#stressed ... how is it already end of june

[andatsea]

Inside, it rained.

--

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[deityofhearts]

I’ve found that it’s easier for me to figure out budgeting if I have a friend hostage to listen to me plot out my budgeting

[loumauve]

I snapped today at work, and by snapped I mean I politely commented on a help desk ticket by summing up an mess of an (type of) issue that's come up for at least the fourth time in the 2+ months I've been managing user accounts, and asked the person responsible to fix it (himself for once) because last time I fixed his mess-up it took me two whole days to work out the details with at least four other colleagues from different departments and I really don't want to do it again. there's other shit that needs doing, I've been working 10+ hour days for most of this week already, so I need to cut down not add on more.

(good thing tho - at least we managed to fix the issue where the dataset of a newer employee got mixed up with another one of the same name and therefore wasn't able to apply for any of the access/accounts she needed. technically not entirely my area but it does impact us not being allowed to create an account for her so I figured I might as well track that issue down. took three days and at least three other people, but hey - it should all work out now. yay for that)

[ddarker-dreams]

Thrones.

Gojo Satoru x F Reader x Geto Suguru.

Warnings: Canon-typical violence, Gojo & Geto are weird and questionable in their conduct. Word count: 7k.

-Index-

June 22nd, 2007.

11:40 a.m.

-

Your first impression of Amanai Riko is that she’s tragically young.

You can appreciate the irony since you’re only two years her senior. Still, it feels like decades have come and gone since that time, even if your biological clock would argue otherwise. As you brush through her long, dark locks, you feel like an understudy unfairly given the lead role. The setting is plausible. It’s likely she’d visit Okinawa one day. Perhaps as a school trip or a vacation planned with friends that she eagerly scrimped and saved for. 

The itinerary would’ve been similar to what Suguru planned. She’d visit the beach, Churaumi Aquarium, Kokusai-dori, and try local cuisine like soki soba or shikuwasa-flavored sweets. The beginning and middle could align; the end will differ. She won’t be flying home with memories to cherish forever and a carry-on stuffed with souvenirs. 

She’ll be flying back home to disappear. 

You separate her hair into three parts and begin braiding. She’s humming Arashi’s Wish, content to loop the catchy chorus. Suguru and Kuroi are purchasing necessities, considering no one had time to pack for this impromptu trip, while Satoru peruses vendors for sugary treats. You’re both sitting on a wooden bench beneath an awning’s shade. Halfway through your process, her fingers no longer tap to the rhythm. 

“Y’know, those two might be weirdos, but you’re not so bad,” she decides. Then, in a small, quiet voice, “I’m glad that it was you three.” 

It’s a small miracle her back is turned so she can’t see your expression. 

“... Me too.” 

-

“Could you quit frowning already? It’s stressing me out.” 

You cross your arms over your chest. “I’m not frowning, I’m thinking.” 

Though you can’t see them, you can feel Satoru rolling his eyes. “Then quit it, cause—” 

“What are you thinking about?” Suguru interrupts, putting a premature end to Satoru’s tirade. You expect the white-haired sorcerer to continue his histrionics, but he falls silent, staring at you impatiently. Although Suguru’s gaze remains on Riko, who is trying on different sun hats and awaiting Kuroi’s verdict for each, you know where his attention truly lies. 

You don’t think you’ll ever get used to their shared scrutiny. 

Apart, it’s tolerable. You can redirect Satoru if you try hard enough and muster up a lie that Suguru pretends he believes. Together, they’re a different beast, complementing one another’s strengths and erasing their faults. You don’t stand a chance. Especially since it’s coming from a place of genuine concern, unconventional as that concern may manifest itself. 

“It’s just…” You hesitate, unsure how to best get your point across. “Is this the only way?” 

“The assimilation?” Suguru clarifies. 

Assimilation. That’s a nice, clean word to describe it. You feel death would fit better, despite Riko’s protests. She admitted — albeit with unexpected zeal — that she’ll ‘become’ Tengen. What does assimilation entail? At the very least, she’ll lose her physical form. Will any of her consciousness remain? Or will it be like a drop of rain falling into the vast sea, rendering it indistinguishable from the rest? 

“I said there’d be issues if she tagged along,” Satoru juts his thumb in your direction. “She's too sentimental.” 

You frown. “If you were so opposed to it, why am I here?” 

“Hell if I know.” 

Suguru clears his throat. “Tengen-sama’s orders show consideration, or we would’ve been told to bring Riko-chan back to Jujutsu High immediately. I assume [First]’s presence is an extension of his thoughtfulness.” 

“‘Thoughtfulness,’ huh?” Satoru scratches his neck. “Sounds like a pain.” 

You kick him in the shin, to which he dramatically yelps. 

“If it’s impossible, then it’s impossible.” Your words come out more clipped than you intended. Wanting to rectify your error, you add, “Let’s just focus on making this time meaningful for her.” 

Though they don’t respond, you’re sure they agree. 

-

“Are you gonna swim with us?” 

Riko’s question cuts through the air. In an instant, all eyes are on you. For some reason, there’s a shift in the mood, like her inquiry holds great significance. Satoru, who was sipping a can of soda, starts sputtering wildly, whereas Suguru tugs on a loose thread of his uniform. Kuroi suppresses a laugh. 

“What’s wrong with those two?” Riko grimaces, unimpressed with their antics. 

“I gave up on figuring that out,” you shrug. “Swimming, swimming… I guess I could? I don’t have a swimsuit, though.” 

Satoru abruptly stands, having seemingly recovered from his close brush with death. “Way ahead of you.” 

You’re ushered toward the closest boutique, where ceiling fans do their best to dispel the sweltering heat. It’s stuffed to the brim with tourists. Some try to calculate the prices in their currency, others give haggling a shot. Amidst the pandemonium, you shuffle through the collection, none of their displays catching your interest. Your search is frequently interrupted by your classmates, who have questionable taste. 

“That shows way too much skin!” 

(Satoru hangs his head as he walks away in defeat). 

“I’m not scuba diving, what’s with the full body getup?” 

(Suguru’s arguments in favor of his pick fall on deaf ears). 

Eventually, Kuroi approaches, holding a light pink two-piece you must’ve overlooked. A white bow sits in the middle, with diaphanous fabric flowing down from the hem. After you express approval, Riko jogs over, an obvious pep in her step. Grinning, she presents a pink and white polka dot headband similar in width to hers. 

“It’ll be a matching set!” 

Satoru is promptly hunted down to foot the bill. 

-

You consider your reflection. 

The headband Riko picked sits snug in your hair. The bathing suit accentuates your features, fitting just so. Your skin has a slight, glossy sheen, courtesy of the ample amount of sunscreen you applied. All that’s left to do is fix your countenance. You don’t want Riko to sense your apprehension, she deserves to focus on having fun. 

You take in a deep breath and shakily exhale. 

With some effort, you manage a convincing smile. 

Suguru stands waiting when you emerge from the changing room. Upon locking eyes, he’s quick to glance away, clearing his throat while he does so. It could be the lighting, but you swear the tips of his ears are red. Is it possible to get sunburnt that fast?

“You all good there?” 

“Yes,” his voice comes out tight.

The closer you get, the more you notice his flushed complexion. Scrunching your eyebrows together, you stand on your tiptoes, pressing the back of your hand against his forehead. The usually calm and collected Suguru gapes like you suckerpunched him. As you perform your medical examination, he stands still as a statue, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallows thickly. 

“You’re really hot.” 

His pupils dilate. “I— what?” 

“Your skin,” you explain. “Have you been drinking enough water? Dehydration’s nothing to play around with.”

“Ah. Of course. That must be it,” he chuckles weakly. “Should we find a convenience store?” 

You nod, content with his acquiescence. Shoko would be proud of your diagnostic capabilities. 

The two of you walk side by side, navigating the crowds. The ideal weather must’ve drawn everyone out. In the distance, you hear the faint crashing of the sea and the call of seagulls. A steady breeze carries the scent of saltwater and sunscreen. Sunlight beams down, its rays oppressive. You’ve only been out of air conditioning for a few minutes and you already miss it. Sweat beads at your forehead and drips down your temple, stubbornly persistent no matter how many times you wipe it away. 

The advertisements for icy treats catch your attention. Suguru says your name, breaking you from your stupor. You didn’t realize you’d stopped in the middle of the walkway. He follows your line and sight, his lips quirking up. 

“See anything you want?” 

“Er… maybe…” you trail off. “But my purse is back at school. And my walking wallet’s splashing around in the ocean like a magikarp.” 

Suguru laughs, the sound soft and soothing. You could never get tired of hearing it. “I assume that’s Satoru?” 

“Yep. He’s rich, so I don’t care about mooching off him.” 

“You say that like you don’t turn him down if it totals up to more than 3,000 yen.” 

“W-Well, there are limits to these things,” you huff. “I can only mooch up to a point.” 

Suguru reaches into his pocket and pulls out his wallet, flicking it open. “How about letting me treat you for once?” 

You wave your hands around. “Oh no, I couldn’t! You're my working class brethren!” 

“If you don’t tell me which you want, I’ll have to buy one of everything.” 

“Eh? Then they’ll all melt!” 

He makes his way over to the stand. “You better hurry up and tell me, then.” 

Suguru couldn’t look more pleased with himself as you point to the Suika Bar if he tried. Soon enough, you’re eagerly ripping into the colorful packaging. You pop the triangular treat into your mouth. The sweet, refreshing flavor coats your tongue in icy waves. Your eyelids flutter shut and you hum in utter bliss. 

“Thank you. You’re the best, Suguru.” 

“I’m just glad you’re acting more like yourself.” 

You avert your gaze. “Have I not been?” 

“In a way,” he opens the water bottle he bought and takes a few gulps. “It’s like you to worry about others. I’m just not used to you being so quiet about it.” 

With each step, you’re getting closer to the beach where everyone else awaits. You’ve felt hesitant about rejoining them. You wonder if this conversation is why Suguru offered to hang back while you got changed. His thoughtfulness is like the moon, ever present regardless of its visibility. You once made the mistake of comparing him to a big brother, an observation that, for whatever reason, made Satoru laugh so hard he started tearing up. Suguru’s strained smile dissuaded you from every mentioning that again.

“I guess… I’ve just accepted that this is the way things have to be.” 

Suguru’s eyes sear into your side profile. “Even if it’s an outcome you desperately want to avoid?” 

You can’t find the words to respond. 

“There’s always another way,” The tone he uses conveys near-frightening conviction. “If you asked Satoru or I to change the course of this world, we’d tip it off its axis.” 

The ground beneath your feet turns soft as you walk onto the vast expanse of sand. It glitters in the sunlight, blown along by the wind in mesmerizing swirls. The coarse texture brushes against your exposed skin. It burns hot through the soles of your flip flops, encouraging you to lift your feet, but you stand planted. For once, Suguru doesn’t wait for you. He keeps heading forward, leaving you to your tumultuous thoughts. 

It’s strangely lonely. 

Eventually, you reply, though you doubt he hears your small voice. 

“... I’d never wish a burden like that on you.”

-

You find Kuroi situated on a towel, whereas Satoru and Riko are playing around in the ocean. Satoru’s the first to notice you. He starts waving, then freezes like a paused recording. His sunglasses slip past his nose and almost fall off his face. Suguru must have mouthed something behind your back, because Satoru yells at him to ‘shut up.’ 

Riko wades through the water to meet you halfway, the apples of her cheeks prominent from how wide she’s smiling. “There you are!” 

Cautiously, you test the water’s temperature with your toes. 

“It’s good, trust me,” she takes your wrist and starts tugging you along. “C’mon already. I need your help taking this guy down.” 

You bend over and whisper, “What’s the plan, general?” 

“Just follow my lead,” she whispers back. Then, in a louder voice, “I’m glad you got that guy’s number. Do you think we’ll see him again? He’s probably staying nearby.” 

Satoru’s head whips in your direction. “Hah?” 

You decide to trust Riko’s vision and play along. 

“I don’t know, I’m worried I’ll say something stupid and scare him off.” 

“You can’t go through life thinking like that! Here, let’s go find him, he’s gotta be nearby—” 

“Who exactly are you referring to?” Satoru snaps. 

“Now’s our chance! Get him!” Riko exclaims, running her hands through the water and splashing it in his direction. You’re quick to join in on the frontal assault. Your joint barrage is relentless, seawater gliding through the air and dousing where he stands. Much to Riko’s chagrin, it hits his infinity. The water bounces off the invisible barrier and drips down uneventfully. 

She puffs out her cheeks. “Man, I was so confident that’d be a good distraction too…” 

You give her a reassuring pat on the shoulder. “The effort was there, that’s all that counts.” 

Satoru stands with his hands akimbo, the skin between his eyes wrinkled from how hard he’s scowling.

“Is there or is there not a guy?” 

-

When you get out of the shower, you find Riko lounging on the hotel balcony by herself. 

Gingerly, you sneak over, uncertain if she’s fallen asleep. It’d been an eventful day. Rescuing Kuroi from kidnappers, Satoru's decision to delay the assimilation, and the activities around Okinawa. You’re worn out yourself. You plan on turning in for the night after checking in on her. 

The sound of chittering bugs and cars driving through the streets greets you upon sliding the door open. Riko turns to face you, the earlier signs of exhaustion on her countenance no longer present. No vestiges of satisfaction or contentment remain. The slight puffiness and its implications aren’t lost on you. You hold your breath, the sluggish cogs in your head spinning as you consider your next move. Riko is a headstrong girl, carrying herself with a sense of pride you believe she’s earned. You don’t want to take that away from her. 

Offering a hushed apology, you prepare to return inside and act like you hadn’t seen anything. 

“It’s fine,” she mumbles. “You can stay… if you want.” 

In that moment, you’re reminded of a story that left a lasting impression on you as a child. 

It’s the story of a father and his beloved son. The father was commanded by his God to take his son to a mountain, where he must build an altar and sacrifice him. The father did what was bid of him, setting out with his only son, carrying the tools necessary to complete his task. He binds his son, yet before he can commence the ritual, his God provides a ram to use instead, sparing his son’s life. 

Even then, you wondered what the trip to the mountain felt like for the father. Did he have any doubts? Was he not angry at his God for making such a request? Would he really have killed his son had the ram not been provided? Could he stand to look his son in the eyes, knowing what fate awaited him? 

Is it wrong to deny a God who asks you to sin? 

You pull a chair alongside Riko’s and sit. 

“I’m not having second thoughts or anything,” her words tumble out fast, like a criminal caught in the act. “It’s the change in climate messing with my senses, I think.”

You gaze up at the night sky. The tapestry of wonders glimmers against its dark backdrop, the stars boasting unrivaled majesty without light pollution to dull them. This celestial mural fails to pique Riko’s interest. Her eyes remain downcast, transfixed on her lap, where she has folded her hands together. She’s a shadow of that boisterous soul who slapped Satoru and insulted Suguru’s bangs. 

“Do you want to have second thoughts?” 

She scrunches up her nose. “What?”

“Like, does it feel wrong to doubt?” 

“This is what I was born for,” She sounds like she’s someplace far away. “If I don’t do it, then who will?” 

You stare at her like she’s already a ghost. Bile rises up your esophagus, spreading a bitter taste inside your mouth. You want to argue until your voice is hoarse, even if that makes you a hypocrite. Counterpoints slot into place like bullets in a revolver. Each newly loaded chamber is capable of potentially piercing the bulwark she’s built around herself through the crenelated stone. However, your finger hovers over the safety, hesitant to pursue such a brutal offense. 

Especially when you’d be shooting from behind an identical fortress. 

“Sorry, didn’t mean to get all depressing on you. Maybe it’s selfish, but I’m grateful things turned out the way they did. It’s been fun — really fun. I got to spend more time with Kuroi, I even got to meet people like you. It would’ve been nice to get to know you better and experience more things, but… this day was always going to come.” 

Is that enough to make this right? 

Riko smiles weakly as your eyes widen. You didn’t mean to say that out loud. 

“Who knows? I never gave that part much thought,” she reaches up toward the heavens, grasping for something only known to her. “It could be sad, it could be wrong. Either way, it’s what I’ve been waiting for.” 

It’s your turn to look away, an act that causes her to fistbump your shoulder. 

“‘I can say cheesy stuff like ‘I’ll always be watching over you,’ ‘cause I will! When Tengen-sama and I become one, your school will be my new stomping grounds! Spiritually, or something. No one really knows the specifics.” 

Upon reinitiating eye contact, a new sentiment regarding Amanai Riko is sown. 

That night, and in the years that follow, it bloomed into one recurring thought. 

“I wish I could’ve gotten to know you too.” 

-

Kuroi stands beside you inconsolable. 

By now, you can no longer see Suguru and Riko’s retreating figures. They’ve entered the labyrinth that is the Tombs of the Star, the hallowed ground Tengen indwells. The further the elevator sunk, the more you felt like you were being ferried into the underworld. Four souls descended, three would return. In this limbo, every second is amplified tenfold, as is any slight change in atmosphere. Your senses have dialed past their normal parameters. 

You don’t think the past thirty minutes were real. It’s as if you’re witnessing the events yet not living them, your body propelled forward by an independent entity. 

Here, in this terrible impasse, you want more out of life than you’ve ever asked. To hear Satoru’s annoying self-confidence. A phone call with Akane where you admit she may have been right. A long nap on Shoko’s bed. Words to comfort Kuroi that aren’t lies. Another day at the beach with Riko, where you can share sweets and funny anecdotes from school. More than anything, you want to go home. 

You shake your head. 

Now isn’t the time for that, you chastise yourself. There has to be something I can do for Kuroi—

Something to your left snaps. 

You know this sound. You heard it in rapid succession once, that night you visited a daycare abandoned by the living and colonized by the dead. It’s an instrument you wielded to the tune of your potential demise, a discordant requiem. You glance toward the source, where Kuroi was. 

Was? 

On the ground lies a pile of shredded fabric, exposed bones, punctured skin, and a pool of blood slowly seeping outward. Clumps of brunette hair stick out like a child had played at being a barber. You don’t understand. There’s no one else around. You hadn’t felt a draft in the air, nor the telltale prickling of cursed energy along your skin. 

You’re no stranger to fear. Ever since discovering the existence of curses, the emotion has become intimately interwoven with your existence. In the past few years, death’s skeletal hand has hovered near your pulse, ready to extinguish your life’s flame. Every close call leaves an indelible mark on your psyche. To dwell on it would tear your sanity asunder. So you choose instead to accept the hand, following a macabre waltz to the tempo of your frenzied heart until the final beat. 

You believe the metronome’s pendulum is on its final swing. 

A hulking figure examines the jagged blade in his hand, dripping with fresh blood. His materialization leaves you speechless. For an instant, you stare at one another, your body frozen in horror. Isn’t this the man who stabbed Satoru? What is he doing here? How is he here? If he hasn’t lost yet, he should still be engaged with Satoru, whose presence you can’t sense anywhere nearby. 

He scratches the back of his neck, his head tilted as he stares you down. 

“Ended up here anyway, huh?” The man remarks. “... Unlucky.” 

You act without thinking. Your fingers rise to meet one another, the hand gesture necessary to initiate Cursed Technique: Null. The stranger lurches forward, swifter than your senses can comprehend. The pain that comes next isn’t a surprise, aside from how it manifests. Instead of stabbing you with his blade, he kicks your stomach. You’re sent flying, your back hitting the wall with such force that debris splinters in every direction. 

Wheezing, you cough up blood, its metallic taste heavy on your tongue. Your vision goes in and out of focus as he walks closer. Every inch of your body cries out, pain unlike anything you’ve ever experienced setting you on fire. The act of breathing is agonizing. Every time you try, you feel something sharp and jagged dig into you. Through the haze settling over your fading mind, you realize that must be your fractured rib cage. 

“... not gonna… might kill me…” 

The stranger’s sonorous voice fails to penetrate the high-pitched ringing in your ears. Your fingers twitch, but your arms remain limp by your side, refusing to rise as you repeatedly instruct. There’s no way for you to activate Null in this state. Refusing to give up, you summon Ophanim. Your disorientation makes maintaining more than one ring at a time impossible. 

It whirrs through the air and toward the stranger’s jugular. 

He raises his katana to deflect, but Ophanim slices through the blade. Now unarmed, you have the faintest flicker of hope. The golden ring is too close for him to dodge. Even if he tries, Ophanim’s speed is at its zenith when concentrated into a singular ring. It’s seconds away from making contact. Though you’re confident you have a concussion and are clinging to consciousness, a few moments are all you need.

Or so you thought. 

You wish it were a hallucination conjured up by your swelling brain. The monster of a man catches the ring with his bare hands like it’s nothing more than a frisbee. Ophanim — a technique strong enough to cut through solid steel — comes to a grinding halt. Your lapse in concentration causes the ring to disappear, leaving nothing but a small cut in his palm. Black blobs devour your vision, pushing you further into an inky abyss. 

Your head falls down as you lack the strength to hold it up. He walks over, likely intending to finish the job. 

I’m going to die, you think. I’m going to die, I’m going to die, I’m going to die…!

The world around you grows further away.

…

I’m scared. 

Maybe I’ve always been scared. 

There are so many things in this world I can’t do anything about. 

I thought by coming here, I was doing the right thing. 

Even if I’m not as strong as they are, I could still do my part. I had to help. It’d be selfish not to. Wrong. Unforgivable.

Run away and live, or stay and die. 

Mom and dad are never going to know why their daughter died. 

It’s going to hurt them so much and it’s all my fault. 

They don’t get to be proud. They don’t get to understand. 

I wonder if I could’ve explained it to them. 

Would they have stopped me from coming here? 

What a joke. Of course they would have. That’s why I never tried, isn’t it?  

I’m sorry, Akane. 

Please don’t blame yourself. 

Knowing how stubborn and stupid I am…

… It always would’ve ended up this way. 

-

Shoko can’t help noticing how quiet it is without you around. 

She’s made a point of avoiding the dormitory, disliking how empty it feels. Most of her time has been spent in the infirmary, assisting with your recovery. It won’t be much longer until you’re discharged. A few days, by her estimate. Her reverse cursed technique has improved since Kaizu, where you had to be hospitalized to compensate for her inexperience. Recovery times post-treatment have decreased in light of her progress.

As an aspiring doctor, she should be satisfied with these results, but for some reason, she can’t muster much enthusiasm. 

Her box of cigarettes is light when she pulls it out. Upon opening it, she sighs. She forgot she’d run out. She tosses the empty box into a nearby trash can and begins the trek back to the infirmary. So long as either Gojo or Geto are around, they’ll get her some more, though convincing them to leave your side is a pain. She doesn’t understand how or why you put up with them.

At least they mean well, she thinks. Most of the time. 

Occasionally, she considers warning you, only to change her mind at the last second. It’s your nature to see the best in people at the cost of overlooking their most damning qualities. To an extent, she gets why Gojo and Geto are so possessive. When she’s receiving your kindness, she can’t help thinking how nice it’d be if she were the only one you looked at that way herself. 

Unlike them, she can’t justify acting on such selfish impulses. 

She hopes they won’t start demanding more than you can give, because knowing you, you’d offer everything. 

-

You happen upon your underclassman, Nanami Kento, struggling with his tie. 

Frustration grows prominent on his countenance. While he’s still composed, it’s like a dam nearing its limit, ready to burst forth. You walk over, taking the tedious fabric into your possession. As you work through the steps, you can feel how he assesses you. You’re certain there’s much he wants to say. You get it — you’re in a similar predicament yourself. Crushed by the weight of the world and forced to soldier on like you’re not one misstep away from being crushed. 

“Are you sure you should be up?” he asks, dispelling the heavy silence. 

“I’m alright,” you manage to quirk your lips up. “It feels good to move around.” 

It strikes you then that this could’ve been your funeral Nanami had to attend. 

Your blood turns to ice, as does your smile. 

Misato Kuroi. Amanai Riko. And now, Haibara Yu, who just two weeks prior, you played video games with late into the night. 

You notice your fingers shaking as you complete the last step, the tie now secured into place. Nanami’s frown deepens. He opens and closes his lips, unusually indecisive. You’re contemplating various excuses to run off when he speaks again, his eyebrows knit together, lips curling into a grimace. 

“... Does it ever get easier?” 

The words are spoken so quietly, they barely reach your ears. Nonetheless, you heard them, each syllable dredging up terrible sentiments from the depths of your soul. As his senior, you feel an obligation to offer guidance. It’s what you would’ve wanted if the roles were reversed. There are platitudes you could espouse. The kind you’d find inked into cards that express condolences, hollow and useless. 

Bitterness seizes you in place like paralytic venom. Your heart aches, heavy as an anchor in your chest. 

“It doesn’t,” you admit. “Not really.” 

His expression remains impassive. 

Before you can walk away, he steps forward, his haste taking you by surprise. 

“Don’t go dying anytime soon.” 

You blink, slowly processing his words. Promising you won’t would be a lie. Your recent brushes with mortality have proven that. So instead, you say the next best thing, the casual phrasing belying the wish’s gravity. 

“Back at you.” 

-

Nighttime has become your most consistent enemy. 

There’s no escaping it, try as you might. While much appreciated, summer’s domination is a small kindness that can’t erase twilight’s encroachment. Every day, darkness’ dreadful descent is inevitable. Your biological clock must obey its creed. In your most vulnerable state, it's there that, like vultures circling above a rotting corpse, your subconscious dives down to strike. 

Nothing is sacred. Your deepest fears — some fully realized, others still in development — cast you as the lead in their macabre plays. If you’re lucky, you’ll awaken in distress, crying out the names of the deceased and those that might one day join them. Otherwise, you’re forced through scene after scene, stumbling through eidetic sequences that rip at the seams of your wounded heart. 

It hasn’t been this bad since you were a kid. Back then, your parents would find you sleeping on their bedroom floor come morning, tear stains visible on your cheeks. In the present, you’ve settled into a new routine, though vestiges of the old remain. Shoko has become your safe haven. She leaves her door slightly ajar, allowing easy access should you seek her out. Swaddled beneath her covers, smelling faintly of cigarettes and vanilla, you’re granted temporary solace.

This strategy isn’t foolproof. Shoko has designs of her own and can’t always be on campus, like now, for instance. She’s busy elsewhere, attending a five-day-long medical conference in Osaka. Her absence has seen your energy levels greatly depleted. Lethargy has made your bones as heavy as lead and your spirit numb. 

Sometimes you wonder if the Tombs of the Star had been your mausoleum and you’ve yet to notice. 

That searing pain, bleak despair, wretched cries that went unheard and prayers unanswered… how do you resume normal life with such a blot staining your soul? 

“Is the movie that boring?” 

Satoru’s voice cleaves through the miasma enveloping your thoughts. Blinking sluggishly, you’re about to ask what he means, until you consider your posture. You’re both sitting on a couch, but unlike him, you’ve begun to slump over, your wearied muscles seeking respite. With some effort, you manage to sit up straight. By then, it’s too late. He pauses the film and stares at you, his expression hidden behind his sunglasses. 

You feel impossibly small beneath his unrelenting gaze. 

“Sorry. Didn’t mean to zone out.” 

He hums, the upward inflection hinting at where this is going. It’s a sensitive topic you’ve been trying to avoid. He played along for a bit, but you sense the pantomime is coming to an end. 

“You need to sleep,” his tone is unusually severe. “You can’t avoid it forever.” 

“I know that.” 

“Do you?” He leans forward, looming tall. “Looks like you’re just trying to punish yourself to me.” 

“That’s…!” You bristle, adrenaline jolting through your system like an electric shock. He quirks an eyebrow, clearly finding your outburst unimpressive. Your shoulders droop. Finally, you murmur, “... Not true.” 

“You really do suck at lying.” 

You shoot up, standing over him as he reclines back, uncrossing his legs. 

“What, should I just take a page out of your book and act like nothing happened? I hate to break it to you, Gojo, but not all of us are as indifferent as you are.” 

You regret it as soon as it leaves your mouth. You don’t get why you’ve chosen him to unleash your pent-up frustration on; you should be used to his lack of tact by now. Still, he should’ve known he was stirring up a hornet’s nest. It might not justify your vitriol, but what did he expect? Why can’t he reach out to you normally? 

“Do you actually mean that?” 

You bite your bottom lip. “... No.” 

“You’re not entirely wrong,” He’s smiling now, but it’s cold, like an arctic gale. “Sometimes, I wonder if I’m still human.” 

You shiver.

“What do you mean?” 

He waves your question off. “Nothing, nothing. Guess I’m a bit out of it myself. Still working out the kinks with always running Limitless, and all that.”

Satoru pats the spot beside him. Wordlessly, you obey, feeling defeated somehow. You fold your hands in your lap and fixate on them. You’d been so close. Had you been faster and more capable, you could’ve activated Null, the ultimate win condition. That anomaly made human — Fushiguro Toji — would’ve been shredded into ribbons. Or, at the very least, immobilized until reinforcements arrived. Then Riko’s life wouldn’t have been stolen from her in such a barbaric way. Suguru would’ve been spared those injuries, and Satoru from the weight of taking another’s life. 

There’s a dull throb in your head. According to Shoko, your hunch was correct; you had sustained a nasty concussion, among other life-threatening complications. She had treated the worst of it, but warned that headaches were going to be an ongoing issue.

However, physical pain is turning out to be the least of your concerns. 

“Hey, Satoru.” 

“Hm?”

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. Like I said, you weren’t far off the mark, anyway.” 

“That isn’t true,” you squeeze your hands together so tight it hurts. “I know how hard you tried. Because of you, Riko got to have so much fun. I’m sure she treasured each moment.”

For a moment, he’s silent, undoubtedly untangling his own chaotic web of thoughts and emotions. 

“... I hope so.” 

You’re about to look at him when an arm slips around your shoulder, drawing you close to his side. Warmth erupts over your face. He’s never cared much for respecting personal space, but this feels different. Meaningful in a way you can’t quite articulate. Instead of squirming away like you would’ve in the past, you sit still, curious about what he’ll do next.  

“Tired?” He asks. 

No longer seeing the point in feigning otherwise, you respond with a muted ‘mhm.’ 

“Then sleep.” 

Incredulity overcomes you.

“Right here?” 

At this, he scoffs. “Well, duh. Where else?” 

A beat passes, then another. Your face goes from feeling mildly warm to a scorching inferno. 

“But that’s—” 

“What?” He cuts you off, his voice sounding tight and rising in pitch. “You can sleep with Shoko, but not me?” 

So he picked up on that? It doesn’t surprise you, given how observant he is, but he’s acting peculiar, almost childish. There was an underlying bitterness to how he enunciated Shoko’s name. Your current acumen is dull from fatigue, or you would’ve picked up on it sooner. Satoru’s annoyed that you haven’t been confiding in him. No wonder he’s been so abrasive. It’s easy to be blinded by his strength and forget that at the end of the day, he’s still a teenager with a massive ego. 

You can’t stop yourself from smiling, which he must misinterpret as mockery. 

“Forget it. Go faint from exhaustion, see if I care.” 

He starts retracting his arm, huffing as he does so. You coil around him before he can fully pull away. Satoru must not have expected your boldness, for he grunts and goes stiff. Taking the strongest sorcerer by surprise is no small feat. Under any other circumstances, you’d flaunt your triumph, but right now, you’re content. His muscles gradually relax, allowing you to make yourself comfortable. 

You lay your head upon his shoulder and close your eyes. 

Yeah, you think, fondness teeming in your chest. You’re still human, Satoru. Very much so.

-

There’s something different about Suguru.

This thought has lain dormant in your subconscious for a while.

You were content to keep it buried, fearing what may happen once it’s exhumed. While you’re ashamed of your cowardice, this thin veneer of normalcy that gives your day-to-day life a sleek sheen is fragile. Any pressure could see it shattered beyond repair. These shards, once scattered, might never fit back together, hence your vigilance. 

Sitting silently on the subway ride home, you’re forced to consider the possibility that the cracks are already there. 

Despite being the only two in this car, Suguru remains standing, holding onto a grab rail. Your mouth feels dry as you mentally rehearse different ways to broach the elephant in the room. You aren’t used to being tongue-tied, especially around him. This inexperience leaves you at a loss. Should you just come out and say what’s on your mind? Or is it better to subtly approach the subject? While weighing your options, he turns around, finally giving you a chance to study his visage. 

He looks tired. 

“I messed up,” he says. “I should’ve let you take care of yourself and prioritized the civilians. You don’t have to sugarcoat it.” 

You chew on the inside of your cheek. “It worked out in the end, though.” 

“If that’s what you think, why do you look so conflicted?” 

It’s now or never. 

“I’m worried about you,” you confess. “And it’s frustrating ‘cause— well, I get it. I know there’s nothing I can say or do to fix everything. But I want to do something. Anything, so long as it helps.”

Suguru closes his eyes and smiles. “Anything, huh?” 

“Would you run away with me?” 

You focus on the click-clack of the tracks beneath you. The subway grinds to a steady stop, its brakes huffing as it does so. The automatic doors fly open as a prerecorded voice announces the stop through the fuzzy intercom. No one gets on and no one departs. A chime sounds, indicating that the doors will be closing shortly. Your body jerks to the side as the car rises, going into motion again. 

“What?” 

It’s the only word that your tongue can successfully form. 

“I realized something,” he quietly begins. He looks past you, out the windows, at something only he can see. “This world is far uglier than I ever wanted to admit.” 

You freeze up like he’s a gorgon when his eyes find yours. 

“Satoru could come too. I’m sure he would, if you were the one who asked.” 

Dizziness overtakes you. Your skin is clammy, despite your incessant shivering. Or are you shaking? You can’t tell. His figure eclipses the setting sun, a halo illuminating his silhouette. You’re unable to look away, even when it hurts. You’re worried that if you do, he’ll be gone when you reopen your eyes. It isn’t until foliage blocks the blinding rays that you’re given reprieve. Even then, a faint burning sensation remains. 

There’s a lot you could ask, but you settle for: “What would we be running away from?” 

“I don’t know,” he responds in truth.

A pause. 

“I take it my joke was in poor taste?” Suguru laughs weakly, rubbing his neck. “I thought I could lighten the mood; I suppose Satoru’s better suited for that.” 

You think you should be upset, but all you can feel is utter relief. 

“A joke,” you repeat, your cadence flat. “Right.” 

“I’m sorry. When you said ‘anything,’ my imagination went wild.” 

His shift in demeanor, although drastic, is no less welcome. 

“Really, though… just being near you helps,” he nods as if it’s a foregone conclusion. “I’ll be alright. I only need a bit more time.” 

The finality in his tone poses a difficult obstacle to argue against. Your trepidation must be obvious, for he walks over, gazing down at you with soft eyes. The dark circles beneath them shoot through your heart like a bullet. If there’s anything you understand, it’s sleepless nights. Remaining upset with him or Satoru is impossible. They always find a way to thaw the ice, one layer at a time. 

“Don’t scare me like that,” you murmur. “I thought you were going off the deep end.” 

Suguru’s next laugh is melodic and, most notably, genuine. 

“Not a chance. Not if you aren’t there beside me.” 

-

December 24th, 2017. 

4:30 p.m.

-

“Feeling restless, sensei?” 

Zenin Maki’s voice echoes throughout the empty hallways, earning your attention. She regards you with an impeccable poker face. Nonetheless, you catch hints of her unease. Her posture is stiff and her eyes meticulously scan your surroundings. You can’t blame her. The entire Jujutsu world is waiting with bated breath, anticipating an unprecedented disaster. All sorcerers — with the exception of you, her, and Yuta — have taken to the streets of Shinjuku and Kyoto. 

There’s nothing you can do except wait. 

“What gave it away?” You ask, despite knowing full well you couldn’t be more obvious if you tried. The chance to take your mind off things with banter would serve you both well. 

“Oh, I dunno,” she shrugs, lips forming a wry grin. “Maybe just the fact you’ve lapped the school like, fifty times. Impressive stuff.” 

“And here I thought I was being discreet.” 

Maki snorts. “Mind if I join you for lap fifty-one?” 

“Be my guest.” 

She half-jogs until she’s by your side. “Any word yet?” 

“Radio silence,” you shake your head. “We’ll hear as soon as there are any updates.” 

At this, she hums, throwing her arms behind her back. You walk absentmindedly through the halls, no real destination in mind. A part of you remains doubtful of Satoru’s decision. When the fighting starts, your presence on the battlefield would’ve been a great benefit. Ophanim excels at eliminating multiple small targets, which, according to the meetings you attended, constitute the majority of Suguru’s armada. 

“You were classmates with that guy, right?” 

You hope she doesn’t notice how your countenance falls. “Mm. Yeah.” 

“One of Jujutsu’s most notorious boogeyman and the blindfolded idiot,” Maki grimaces. “Sounds like hell.” 

“It wasn’t so bad.” 

“Right. Guess Ieiri-sensei was there too. That helps balance things out.” 

For a moment, she pauses, glancing at you from the corner of her eyes. “... What was he like?” 

You tilt your head. “Satoru?” 

“God, no. I mean the other one,” she waves her hand. “Geto.” 

How would you describe him from those carefree, bygone days? 

He could be a bit mischievous. He knew how to get away with things, how to test the limits of others. He wanted to make good on his strength. He tempered Satoru’s ego, challenged him to be better. But most of all, he had this quiet resolve others couldn’t help but admire. I trusted him wholeheartedly. I wanted to grow alongside him. I wanted to make him proud and be proud of him in return. I thought we could change the world for the better.

He was my best friend.

More than anything, he was my biggest regret. 

“If I had to pick a single word… it’d be ‘lost.’” 

[omorithedreamermod]

JUNE DEVLOG

June DEVLOG time for OMORI THE DREAMER and...some big things have happened.

IMPORTANT INFORMATION:

In even more contrast to prior optimism, it seems the entire DREAMER release timeline will be overhauled. Due to the size of the story, the assets that relies on other's to complete, and the large amount of new assets far outweighing the amount in the PRELUDE...

From now on, we will be following a "CHAPTER BY CHAPTER", or in accordance to DREAMER's naming conventions, a "BOOK BY BOOK" release schedule. So, instead of waiting for the entire game to come out and getting overloaded with way too much content, books will be released in this sequence; BOOK 1 - KEL BOOK 2 - AUBREY BOOK 3 - HERO BOOK 4 & 5 - BASIL + ???

The final release of Book 4 & 5 will be the entire game. Each new release will include the chapters before, and save files will carry over. I believe this will be better overall for development, and for you guys to experience the story without being overwhelmed. The current plan is for BOOK 1 to release in the fall, and for BOOK 2 to release before the end of the year. I want this project completed in 2026, and with the additional time, hopefully everything will be at a higher quality. The narrative was already built in this book by book format, so nothing is actually changing besides release dates!

I'm sorry if this is frustrating to hear, but I'm confident this is better overall for both players and definitely for the team. We are not in development hell–people just have actual lives and are not being paid to work on this, so it can't be a priority. Still, the goal is a timely release schedule, with each book getting its own release trailer. I hope you can still look forward to the releases ^^

PROGRESS (BOOK ONE):

Due to the time of the year and a certain game releasing, a lot of the team was busy. Progress significantly slowed, but will hopefully pick back up again. Unfortunately, I cannot help with tile-set creation as it's outside of my wheelhouse (though I'll do my best to learn in the future!) so that team has a lot of pressure on them to handle SECTION TWO tile-sets on their own. Hopefully in the future I can help carry the burden. For now, it'll take as long as it needs to to avoid stress, but hopefully the internal deadlines can still be met!

Music is coming along amazing, and once again, there is going to be a large soundtrack coming with the chapter. Lots to see and lots to hear!

As of now, I'm making as much art and surrounding assets as I can while waiting for SECTION TWO to be ready for programming and writing. Progress is steady but certainly not at the breakneck pace it used to be. I got severely burnt out after continuing to work on THE DREAMER right after PRELUDE release and churning out SECTION ONE...but I am recovering! I'll bounce back passionately soon enough! I'm learning more and more how to rely on others and be patient with myself.

Battling is in the process of being overhauled and fixed up, and that will be available for the Book 1 release still!

For SECTION THREE, progress is also steady, though similarly significantly slowed. Still, nearly all maps are actively being mad, so it's looking very promising. Bug fixing still needs to happen for SECTION ONE, though...

CONCLUSION:

Wish us luck. A lot of luck. And for more pixel artists to sign up. This mod is on the right track and will certainly be completed! Just...at a more steady pace than originally assumed. On the bright side, that means you guys don't have to wait as long for more of THE DREAMER! Yay!

[sanguinesky-if]

[Dev Log] June 2025

Hello, I hope you're doing well!

Summer arrived so quickly that I barely noticed while working on the update, but I hope to catch up with everything once it's released.

As for my progress, here's a quick overview of my activity over the past month and my plans for the current one.

Announcement.

For Patreon members: The release date is scheduled for June 28.

In mid-June, I'll post a progress update to let you know how things are going.

Please note that access to the code for the Patreon demo will be disabled until the public release.

For other readers: I'll share some of the sneak peeks previously posted on Patreon a week before the release date [here on the Tumblr blog].

I'd like to note in advance that I don't have an estimated time for the public release. The update may need additional polishing and changes before it's ready to go public.

Thank you so much for your support and interest!

What was done last month?

▹ Chapter 3 Pt. 2: finished working on I's scene and rewrote R's scene.

It's still a bit hard to admit because it slowed my progress, but while working on R's and I's scenes, I realized that what I had originally written just wasn't working well. I had to rewrite both scenes. While I'm happy with how I's scene turned out, I still have some doubts about R's. In short, this rewrite means that a few answers I gave to previous asks are no longer valid [you won't be able to get your MC drunk, and you won't meet another secondary rival]. Even though it was a stressful process to change what was originally planned, I don't regret my decision [I might even reuse the cut content in future scenes].

▹ Stats Changes.

I also spent time revising and refining some of the stats. Here's what the stats will look like in the update [comparison to the public version]:

I know that the stats still aren't perfect, but I think the change made them represent the choices readers can make much better than they did before. Also, there's a small coding feature I wanted to mention: If the MC has a higher "Genuine" stat than "Guarded", some of the ROs will lose alignment points if you choose to lie to them or hide things. It's a very simple mechanic:

However, there are also several ROs whose alignment points increase if the MC shows distrust or acts more guarded, so it's a situational feature.

What will I be working on in June?

Since I've paused Patreon billing, I'll be focusing on releasing the update by the deadline [T's and S's scene are last for a reason].

As I mentioned on Patreon, I was recently prescribed medication, and I'm a bit concerned about potential side effects which could impact my ability to work [and possibly the deadline as well].

Still, I hope that won't be the case. I know you've already waited a long time, and I'm doing my best to make sure the final result lives up to your support.

Thank you for reading to the end! Wishing you a wonderful week and days after that! ♥

[dakusan]

📁 ASK DUMP 𓆩🩸𓆪 26 JUNE 2025

HELLOOOO EVERYONE yes yes I KNOW I missed Wreck Me Wednesday, yes I rage-deleted my Sims 4 CC folder out of spite, yes I spiralled over grey sweatpants and forgot to drink water BUT!!! I return bearing GIFTS. This is the official feral ask flood and all of you being absolute MENACES in the best way.

You sent asks. I short-circuited. Now we suffer together.

Let’s rot. 🩸🖤✨

· · ──────༺♱༻────── · ·· · ──────༺♱༻────── · ·· · ──────

👻 ANON LOGGED: "What if someone went for Chan’s blood doll instead—lies, forged receipts, fake scandals, until she breaks and pulls away from him?"

OH 👻 ANON YOU MONSTER. you broke channie's doll. you wounded the empire boy. you planted a lie in a palace of blood and now the whole thing is cracking.

but fine. let’s answer. sharp pain first, then the sugar—just how Chan likes it.

⸺⟡⸺

Chan doesn’t flinch at threats. He’s had fangs to his throat before. He built this empire from ashes and rage, and he’s watched men far bigger than you crawl. But they didn’t go for the king. They went for the girl in silk sheets and stolen glances. They went for the soft thing he keeps in his arms like a rosary.

The threats? He handed them to Changbin with a yawn.

The letters? Had Minho do a scent check. All dead ends. He figured they gave up.

But then… You flinch when he touches you. You stop calling him “my sun” and starts asking for space. You won’t look him in the eye when he drinks from you.

He doesn’t understand at first. He assumes it’s stress. Overwork. Hormonal instability.

Until he finds the manila envelope under your pillow. Photos. Screenshots. Lies, doctored messages, faked receipts, twisted stories. Actors claiming to be former dolls. Accusations of cruelty. Of abandonment. Of “burning them out.”

All false. But just true enough to hurt you.

You stop sleeping in his bed. You start crying after feeding. You ask for termination papers.

Not because you hate him. But because you think you've been protecting a monster. Because you can't tell what's true anymore. And because you think if he ever really loved you, he'll let you go.

Chan is powerful. Commanding. Unshakable. But he is not cruel, hurt yes, but not cruel. So he says nothing. Just nods. Folds his hands. And says: “If that’s what you want, you’re free. You always were.”

But dolls don’t thrive without their keepers. And soul-bonded ones? They wither.

You lose color. Stop eating. Wake up cold and aching with phantom pressure where his hand used to rest. And then the truth surfaces.

The actors get sloppy. The scheme leaks. Minho finds one. Changbin traces the wire. Jisung decrypts the audio.

You hear it. All of it.

One night, you're standing outside Luke Health. No pass. No warning. Just eyes rimmed red and fingers trembling. He sensed you here, so of course he walks out to find you already crying. Falling to your knees. Not for forgiveness — but because the bond hurts too much. Being apart ripped you open.

And Chan? He doesn’t move. Doesn’t speak. He just kneels with you. Takes your hands. Kisses each wrist.

“You never needed to beg. You were always mine. And I was always yours.”

You are being guided inside, to his office, where he pulls you into his lap and tells you the truth. Everything. Lets you cry until your sobs go silent.

And when you finally, finally, move back in with him. Share the same bed again. Sleep together, Chan's arm stays wrapped around your waist, firm, just to be sure you're not leaving him again. Not ever again.

⸺⟡⸺

now go apologize to channie for hurting him 💋🦇

· · ──────༺♱༻────── · ·· · ──────༺♱༻────── · ·· · ──────

🧊 ANON LOGGED: "What happens if an asexual soulmate tries to bond with vampire!SKZ, even though PIV is off the table?"

Hi my darling,

First off — thank you so much for the ask, and I want to offer a gentle apology in advance. This answer might not be what you hoped for, but I want to be honest and respectful with you, always.

Sadly, it won’t work. And that’s okay. Not every universe is built for every body.

This isn't a "representation fail" thing. This is a biological incompatibility in a feral, bloodborn system where intimacy = sustenance = survival = anchoring = sex. Not because vampires are horny for the hell of it (though… they absolutely are), but because Abnormal biology requires a deep, carnal, penetrative ritual to:

seal bonds,

regulate magical overload,

and safely transfer volatile power.

Think less romance novel, more blood-coded circuitry.

❌ Asexuality vs Abnormal Vampire Lore

Asexuality = completely valid. Always.

But Abnormal vampirism is a different beast:

Magic-triggered reproductive chaos.

Biochemical heatstorms.

Soul-deep regulation through penetrative feeding and sex.

There’s no “skip” button. There’s no “just cuddling” workaround. There’s only burn or bind.

If someone’s hard limit is no penetration ever, then it becomes a biological mismatch in this world. The vampire would:

enter looping hunger states,

suffer rage feedback and ferality,

and the bond would never stabilize.

You’d both suffer. Or worse — implode the tether trying to force something that this universe physically doesn’t allow.

💔 What Happens If You Try?

The vampire stays starving, no matter how sweet you are.

The bond stays fractured. Unsealed.

You become a flickering blood ghost — close enough to ache, never enough to satisfy.

Eventually, the vampire either detonates, or is forced to sever the connection.

Some vampires might try to resist. Might try to find workarounds. But even the softest boys burn in the end. Because this world? It’s not built for denial. It’s built on visceral surrender.

I’ll be honest with you too — I don’t write ace stories. I don’t live that experience, I’m not surrounded by people who do and I haven’t studied the nuances of the identity. I don’t want to speak on something I don’t live or deeply understand. I’m not the writer for that, and I won’t fake it just to check a box.

What I can do is protect the rules of this world — and keep it honest.

This isn’t about exclusion — it’s about worldbuilding integrity. I want every reader to feel safe and respected, even if this particular universe isn’t a match for them. If you're ace and still enjoy reading from the outside, watching the fire from a safe distance — you are so welcome here. Just know the fire burns hot, and it doesn’t change its nature.

🩸 With love, always — and fangs bared 💋🦇

· · ──────༺♱༻────── · ·· · ──────༺♱༻────── · ·· · ──────

🧎🏼‍♀️ ANON LOGGED: "Will you be doing the Bang Chan tattoo artist fic? Because I am on my knees for it."

OH BABES 😭💘 HE'S COMING—but he’s the grand finale.

i've done minho now, so next in line is:

🥀 changbinnie ☁️ felix 🔥 channie

🧎🏻‍♀️ so yes. yes i plan on it. but i am SAVING that man for last because when he comes?? you will not be left standing.

· · ──────༺♱༻────── · ·· · ──────༺♱༻────── · ·· · ──────

🐈‍⬛ ANON LOGGED: "What if vampire!SKZ had an easily overstimulated soulmate?"

OH 🐈‍⬛ ANON. YOU GET IT. YOU GET THE SOULMATE WHO’S JUST BUILT DELICATE. like their nervous system was spun from lace and static. they were made to tremble. made to sob. made to overload.

⸺⟡⸺

👥 FAMILY GATHERING VERSION:

you step into the vampire family’s private estate and it’s just—

🩸 too many new scents 🩸 too many sharp glances 🩸 too many ancient creatures asking “is this the one?”

you're already sweating. blinking too hard. trying to hold a wine glass with shaking fingers.

and then you catch sight of him across the room— your vampire. your anchor. and you BOLT.

“I don’t know who they are, I don’t know where I am, you weren’t looking at me—”

he just catches you. pulls you into his lap. fangs brushing your ear. hands around your waist.

“Shh, baby. You don’t have to know anyone. You just have to stay with me.”

you melt. bite goes in to regulate you. eyes flutter. brain goes fuzzy. now you're just blinking prettily while the family laughs knowingly.

💀 BEDROOM VERSION:

you think round one is over. you think he’ll give you time to recover. you’re wrong.

you’re already sobbing into the sheets. hips twitching. thighs quivering. and he’s still hard, still hungry, still purring filth into your neck like:

“Don’t crawl away from me, baby. You’re mine. You said you could take it.”

you didn’t say that. you moaned it. with a bite mark already on your collarbone. so now you’re crying. not because it hurts—because it’s too much. but it’s the good kind. the soulbond kind. the “i love you so much i’m going dumb” kind.

and when he bites again—mid-thrust? your brain short-circuits. you scream his name like a spell. and your last coherent thought is:

“i’m gonna die loving him like this.”

and maybe you do. but he brings you back with a kiss and a cold cloth.

⸺⟡⸺

thank you for the ask, you sinful genius 🐈‍⬛ come back anytime 💋🦇

· · ──────༺♱༻────── · ·· · ──────༺♱༻────── · ·· · ──────

🖤 ANON LOGGED: “I’ve read half your filth, I’m feral over grey sweatpants, and I will not be elaborating.”

🖤🖤🖤 ANON MY LOVE!!! YOU’RE HERE!!!!! 🖤🖤🖤

the 🌙 slot may be taken, but listen… the black heart? it suits you. you’re dark. mysterious. you belong here. welcome to the blood-slick, thirst-ridden inbox family.

also YOU’VE READ HALF THE MASTERLIST?? I AM SCREAMING.

the fact that you “have thoughts” about the grey sweatpants and chose to withhold them like a menace?? ICONIC. POWERFUL. YOU SCARE ME. I WANT MORE.

thank you for being here. for reading. for being soft and sexy and lovely. i’m so so glad to have you as 🖤 anon and i promise to keep feeding you unholy content until we both pass out from overstimulation and plot twists.

sending u forehead kisses w consent 💋🦇

· · ──────༺♱༻────── · ·· · ──────༺♱༻────── · ·· · ──────

🧋 ANON LOGGED: “I reread your smut like it’s gospel and asked how fast SKZ would fold over a little skin.”

welcome to the unholy circle, sweet boba baby 😭💖. you are now officially on the roster as 🧋 anon, bringer of praise, thirst, and dangerous questions.

ALSO?? THE COMPLIMENTS??? my heart is punching holes in my ribcage.

AND THIS QUESTION??? oh. oh we’re gonna be so evil. tight shirts. short skirts. roommate tension. hands twitching. filthy, repressed SKZ energy. i’m feral just THINKING about it. LET'S GO

⸺⟡⸺

❤️‍🔥 SKZ REACTING TO YOU WEARING SOMETHING JUST A LITTLE TOO REVEALING… AS THEIR ROOMMATE / SECRET CRUSH.

BANG CHAN

He's doing everything in his power not to stare—but then you reach for the top shelf and your shirt lifts just enough. His jaw clenches. His knuckles go white around his coffee mug. “Are you trying to kill me?” he mutters, barely audible. And when you blink innocently at him? Oh no. He's clearing his throat, adjusting his sweatpants, avoiding eye contact like it's a full-time job. Will not act on it… unless you sit on the couch beside him with a blanket, and his hand accidentally grazes your thigh. Then it’s over. “...We should talk,” he whispers—right before kissing you like he’s been dying for it.

LEE KNOW

He notices. Of course he does. That little black skirt you’re wearing? It’s short. Dangerous. And he’s watching like a hawk while pretending he isn’t. “Did you lose your pants or is this a new strategy?” he asks dryly, but his ears are pink. You cross your legs on the couch and his eyes drop—for half a second. And that’s all it takes. He gets up and leaves the room. But he comes back. Leaning over the back of the couch, voice low: “You wore that on purpose, didn’t you?” And suddenly you’re pinned to the cushions and his hand is sliding up your thigh like it’s always belonged there.

CHANGBIN

One look at your outfit and he forgets how to function. Wide eyes. Sweaty palms. Tongue-tied disaster. “Uh—th-that’s… that’s a nice shirt,” he stammers. “Is it… new?” It’s not. He’s just never seen that much of your cleavage at once and now he’s spiralling. When you bend over to grab something, he audibly chokes. And when you come over and sit next to him like nothing’s happening??? His inner monologue is SCREAMING. Eventually he blurts out, “You can’t wear stuff like that around me, I’m not strong enough.” And then—quietly, almost desperately— “…Do you want me to touch you?” (He hopes the answer is yes. It is.)

HYUNJIN

You walk out of your room in that tiny little skirt, half a tank top, and he stops breathing. Literally. Forgets how. “You going somewhere?” he asks, but he’s not even pretending to be casual. He's leaned against the kitchen counter, sipping water like it’ll save him, jaw tight, eyes burning holes in your thighs. And when you lean over to grab something? He inhales through his nose like a man trying to resist the devil. “…You really shouldn’t wear that around me.” Your laugh makes it worse. “Unless you want me to do something about it,” he adds—and then waits. Waits to see if you’ll bite back. You do. The water bottle hits the floor and so do your morals.

HAN JISUNG

You come in wearing that tiny crop top and a skirt that’s clearly illegal. He stares for a second too long, then looks away like he’s been caught looking at porn in church. “Wow! Haha! That’s a… cool outfit!” he squeaks. He’s so red you’re worried he’ll combust. But when you bend over? Oh. Now he’s chewing his thumb, fidgeting, pretending to be chill. You sit next to him on the couch and he whispers, “You’re playing a dangerous game.” You: “What game?” Him: “The one where I lose control and ruin our friendship in 0.5 seconds.” (He does. You both love it.)

FELIX

Felix adores you. Would never touch you without permission. But then you walk into the kitchen in a soft little off-the-shoulder shirt with no bra. And it’s like someone flipped a switch. He stares. Silently. Lip between his teeth. You ask if something’s wrong and he just… hums. Then, softly: “Do you know what you’re doing to me right now?” When you pretend not to, he steps closer. “Maybe you want me to lose it.” Oh, he loses it. You end up pressed against the fridge with his hands under your shirt and his breath hot in your ear.

SEUNGMIN

He’s so fucking smug when you enter the room, like, “Really? That’s what you’re wearing?” Raises an eyebrow. Makes a sarcastic comment. Pretends to be unbothered. He is bothered. So. Bothered. He can’t stop glancing. His fingers twitch when you sit close. Then you laugh and his eyes drop straight to your lips, to your thighs, back up. You cross your legs. He crosses a line. “You keep testing me like this,” he murmurs, “and you’ll find out exactly how good I am at making you beg.” And oh, you find out.

JEONGIN

He starts off innocent. Flustered. Giggly. “Whoa… you look cute.” Can’t make eye contact. Doesn’t know where to look. But then you stretch, and the shirt rides up. The skirt shifts. His eyes lock in. He swallows. And he does not look away this time. You giggle. Call him out. “What? I’m just admiring,” he says, voice low. “You shouldn’t tease your roommate, you know. That’s how you end up in my lap.” And suddenly… that’s exactly where you are.

⸺⟡⸺

thank you, my sweet lil boba menace 😭🖤 for this question, for your praise, for being insane in the exact way i like. welcome to the chaos. you are now fully initiated. there’s no way out.

love you 💋🦇

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🩺 ANON LOGGED: “What if getting better meant letting him taste the trust in your bloodstream?”

HELLO MY BELOVED BLOOD-BASED ROMANTIC 🩸😭. thank you for this ask. THANK YOU for this concept. it’s so gentle and so devastating and so hot and i want to chew on it like a sacrament.

you’re getting added to the Sunday Softdrop request queue IMMEDIATELY. you said: “hey what if soulmate vamp!chan felt their healing in the flavor of their blood,” and my soul folded like origami.

you want him to taste trust. you want him to know they believe in him now. that’s so intimate i want to cry and also write it 4 times in a row.

your brain is beautiful. your vibes are immaculate.

thank you for reading, for working so hard, and for coming here to rest your heart and thirst. you’re safe here. you’re welcome here 💋🦇

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🧨🩸 ANON LOGGED: “What if I gave a vampire a jealousy arc and watched the world burn?”

OOOOHHHHHHHHHHHHHH ANON. YOU’VE OPENED THE BLOOD-GATES.

you think they’d be patient. but you are WRONG. you think they’d respect boundaries. but they’re vampires. born, bred, and blood-bonded to you. and now you’re out here kissing someone who isn’t them?? they feel it. they taste it. your body is bonded to the wrong hands, the wrong scent, the wrong mouth. and they’re going to lose their goddamn minds.

so here’s what happens:

⸺⟡⸺

Bang Chan – goes feral with a smile.

he’ll act polite. he’ll pretend to be calm. he’ll offer to “meet them.” but he’s already rewritten your future. he doesn’t need to get physical—he’ll win with words. one conversation. one look. one soft, “you don’t even see them the way I do, do you?” you’ll leave that relationship and crawl to him willingly, already marked.

Minho – dangerous. precise. inevitable.

he won’t say anything at first. but he’s always there. watching. calculating. the first time you flinch when your partner raises their voice? he’ll be in your doorway that night, silent, calm, hand on your cheek. “you deserve worship,” he’ll say. “not that.” and he’ll make you feel it.

Changbin – physically aches with jealousy.

he tries. he really tries. but his fists are curling into his palms, and his jaw is locked so tight it creaks. he’ll tell you straight: “i can’t pretend this doesn’t drive me insane. i need you. you’re mine.” and if you hesitate—just for a moment—he’ll be at your throat. softly. reverently. “i’ll wait,” he says, but the hunger will never stop.

Hyunjin – tragic, romantic, and apocalyptic.

he writes poetry about you. burns it. rewrites it with blood. he cries over you. but that doesn’t mean he’ll let you go. you’ll feel him in dreams. in mirrors. in the tug behind your heart. when your partner touches you, it feels wrong now. because he’s already inside you—mind, soul, bond. “you’ll come to me,” he whispers.

Jisung – turns manic. obsessive. unstable in the prettiest way.

he spirals. talks to himself. laughs when he sees you kiss someone else and then punches the wall. but he waits. he waits for the moment your lover slips, messes up, lets you down. and then he’s there. arms open. fangs bared. “it’s me. it’s always been me. just say the word.” you do.

Felix – sunshine gone unhinged.

he smiles. he hugs you. he congratulates you. but he can’t touch you without growling. he dreams about draining them dry and bottling your moans instead. his light dims. until one night, he snaps. “don’t you get it? i was made for you. and i’m not letting you go.” his bite is the softest thing you’ve ever felt. you never want anyone else again.

Seungmin – strategic. terrifying. terminally calm.

he doesn’t interfere. he lets the relationship rot from within. all he does is wait. observe. whispers in your ear when you're half-asleep, “he doesn’t know how to love you. i do.” and one day, you believe him. you show up at his door. he lets you in. “took you long enough,” he mutters. then he ruins you, permanently, perfectly.

Jeongin – youngest but scariest when provoked.

at first he’s heartbroken. confused. but when he sees the one you’ve chosen over him? the rage sets in. not loud. not violent. just cold. sharp. precise. he won’t say a word. just look at you with those molten eyes and whisper, “you know it’s supposed to be me.” and eventually, you can’t resist him anymore. he drinks you slow. and marks you so no one else ever can again.

⸺⟡⸺

anon… thank you for this unhinged, delicious, emotionally violent question 🥀🩸. welcome to the chaos 💋🦇

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🦄 ANON LOGGED: “If I must perish in a heatwave, I want to do it on a vampire’s silk bedsheets with a cold drink and fangs in my neck.”

AAAAA 🦄 ANON YOU BEAUTIFUL DELULU ANGEL 😭🩷 you’re melting, I’m melting, we’re all melting—but at least we’re doing it in vampire luxury.

⸺⟡⸺

🔥 “How would vamp!SKZ care for their blood doll during an extreme heat wave?”

Bang Chan – “Babe, you’re gonna combust—get in the damn fridge.”

He’s the responsible one™ who tried to warn you. You: “I’m fine.” Chan, staring at your sweaty forehead and limp tank top: “You are NOT.” He turns his entire walk-in freezer into a cuddle den. Throws a mattress in. A playlist. Cold drinks. You sleep there now. Also he keeps pressing his freezing hand to your inner thighs and going “better?” like he’s not trying to kill you.

Lee Know – pretends not to care, is secretly plotting your cryogenic salvation.

You’re sprawled on the floor in a sports bra. “You look like microwaved sin,” he deadpans. Meanwhile, he’s brewing iced tea and silently adjusting the AC to arctic tundra. Later that night? You wake up to find him spooning you shirtless with a literal frozen pack of blood bags pressed to your neck. “Shut up and go back to sleep,” he mumbles, already half hard from how warm you are.

Changbin – panics and over-cares like a gym rat in a crisis.

He’s googling “how to cool down a human” like you’re a broken laptop. Brings you seventeen electrolyte drinks. Lays you on your stomach and fans you with a protein bag. “You need shade,” he says, dragging the blackout curtains shut like a vampire cave dad. Also? Carries you everywhere. Absolutely refuses to let you walk. “You’ll die,” he insists, hoisting you bridal style while sweating more than you.

Hyunjin – delirious romantic who turns heatstroke into a gothic monologue.

You: “Hyun, I think I’m gonna faint.” Hyunjin: “Then collapse in my arms, beloved. Let the heat take you like a tragic poem.” He fans you dramatically with a vintage art magazine. Kisses your temple like he’s blessing you before battle. Also paints ice cubes and places them on your back like cursed little art installations. “You are my masterpiece, even in decay.” Sir. Please. I need a popsicle.

Han Jisung – you’re dying and he thinks it’s hilarious.

“Babe,” he snorts, watching you crawl across the tiles like a corpse, “you look like expired cheese.” Hands you a frozen Capri Sun and says, “Here, hydrate or die-drate.” But then?? He lays on the kitchen floor with you, puts his cold feet on your thighs, and whispers, “I could bite you and cool you down from the inside out… just saying…” You: “That’s not how thermodynamics works—” Him: “Let me be your sexy ice pack.”

Felix – sunshine vampire turned aircon sugar daddy.

He literally BUYS YOU A PORTABLE AC UNIT. Brings you frozen fruit in a crystal bowl. Wears nothing but silk shorts. “Want me to press my cold hands on your chest?” he asks, eyes big and innocent. Spoiler: he does it anyway. Also insists on cuddling because “your heat makes me feel more alive 🥺” You: “Felix I’m gonna die.” Him: “But you’ll die loved and moisturized.”

Seungmin – dry, sarcastic, literally a vampire Yeti.

He’s fine. He’s cold. He looks amazing. “You look like a damp sock,” he says, sipping cold blood. Watches you melt with zero emotion. Then tosses you a frozen towel and goes, “Here. Try not to perish before dinner.” But later? You wake up to him silently pressing popsicles against the back of your knees like some weird vampire ritual. “It’s effective,” he mutters. “Shut up.”

Jeongin – baby vamp who doesn’t know how to help so he just gives you ice and panic.

“You’re melting! Should I bite you?? Will that help?? Should I call someone???” He tries putting you in the bathtub. Forgets to add cold water. Genuinely looks like he might combust until you let him lie on top of you like a human ice blanket. He’s freezing. He smells amazing. You survive. Barely. “Next time,” he murmurs, “we move to Alaska.”

⸺⟡⸺

thank you 🦄 anon for this ✨deliriously sweaty✨ vision. i hope you're still hydrated. and if not—someone call Chan and tell him to fridge you immediately🩸🧊🖤

love ya , use sunscreen 💋🦇

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🍀 ANON LOGGED: “I asked to be bitten nicely and ruined emotionally, is that too much?”

OH 🍀 ANON. OH YOU FERAL, DELECTABLE LUCKY CHARM. you said: “what if I looked into my vampire lover’s eyes and said 'bite me' with my whole chest and my whole throat” and now I’m the one short-circuiting.

⸺⟡⸺

“Vampire!SKZ reacting to you begging to be bitten.”

Bang Chan – The Control Snaps™

You whisper, “Pretty please... bite me?” Voice soft. Neck tilted. Pupils blown. He pauses—completely still—fangs already itching. “You don’t mean that,” he murmurs, voice rough like gravel. But you nod. Eyes wide. Voice smaller now. “I do. I want you to... I need you to.” He’s across the room in a second. Hands in your hair. Breath scorching. He doesn’t ask again. He just sinks in, deep and slow, groaning like he’s starving—because he is. Your blood hits his tongue and his hips stutter into yours. “You have no idea,” he growls, licking over the punctures, “what you just started.”

Lee Know – Silent. Deadly. Feral underneath.

You tug his sleeve. Whine softly. “Bite me?” He stares at you like you’ve just offered to hand him the universe. Eyes black. Still as a statue. Then he hums. Low. Threatening. “You really want it?” he asks, voice low enough to make you shiver. You nod. Bare your neck. Breathe his name. He pins you against the wall in one motion. No words. Just teeth. He bites you with precision. Slowly. Possessively. Fangs drag longer than necessary, just to hear your moan break. “You beg pretty,” he whispers, licking the blood from your skin. “I’ll make you beg again.”

Changbin – Panics. Then destroys you.

Your hands are on his chest. Your voice? Breathless. “Changbin, please. Bite me.” He freezes. Entire system crashes. “Wh–what? You want... me to—?” You nod. Pupils dilated. Clinging to him. His restraint snaps. He groans, low and wrecked, presses his forehead to yours. “Fuck, baby, don’t ask for that if you don’t mean it,” he warns—then bites you mid-sentence. Growls into your throat like it’s the only thing grounding him. Blood rushes into his mouth and so does your moan. You both see stars. After? He holds you like you’re made of glass.

Hyunjin – Gets spiritual about it. Still ruins you.

You crawl into his lap, voice sweet and shaky. “Please... I want you to bite me. Want you to drink from me.” He gasps like you just confessed love. His hand trembles as it cups your jaw. “You’re sure?” he breathes. “You know what this means?” You: “I want to be yours.” His eyes roll back. His fangs drop. He kisses your wrist like a prayer and bites it, gently—like you’re a miracle. Your blood coats his lips like wine and he licks it off slow. Worshipful. He moans your name. “You taste like devotion,” he whispers. “Don’t take that back.”

Han Jisung – Turns insane. Like immediately.

You whisper it in his ear, soft and teasing: “Jisung... will you bite me? Please?” He short-circuits. Like visibly. Falls off the couch. Stares at you like you’re a glitch in his fantasy. “Say it again.” You do. And then you’re pinned to the bed, his fangs grazing your skin, hands shaking. “I’ve been trying to be good,” he whimpers. “But you’re not making it easy.” He bites. Hard. Messy. Breathless. He drinks like it’s the only thing keeping him alive. When he pulls back, your blood on his lips, he’s whispering, “Say it again. Beg again. I’m not done.”

Felix – Sunshine cracks. Fully wrecked.

You brush his curls back. Nuzzle into his cold neck. “Lixie... please bite me. I want to feel you.” His eyes go wide. Like anime protagonist realizing he’s in love. “You... you what?” “I want it,” you whisper. “Want you.” He whimpers. Bites his own lip. Pulls you close like he’s scared you’ll vanish. Then he very gently sinks his fangs in—while whispering, “Thank you. Thank you. Thank you.” His breath hitches. His hips roll against yours. He’s gasping into your neck. “Can’t believe you’d offer yourself to me,” he says between licks, “I’ll never forget this. Never.”

Seungmin – Laughs. Then makes you scream.

You say it casually—like it’s a favoir. “Please bite me, Min. I need it.” He blinks. Smirks. “Oh?” he says. “You need me now?” You nod. His pupils expand instantly. He leans in. “Then ask properly.” You beg again. Sweeter. Desperate. Eyes fluttering. And that’s when he loses it. Bites you like punishment. Like payoff. Drinks slow, precise, with a wicked curl to his mouth. “You asked for this,” he growls, licking the blood off your clavicle. “Hope you’re ready to handle it.” Spoiler: You are not.

Jeongin – Breaks. Rebuilds. Bites again.

You pull him close by the shirt. Whisper, “Please bite me, Innie.” He dies. “Wh–you… are you serious?” You nod. He stares. You whisper it again. “Please, Jeongin.” He leans in, voice shaking: “...Since you asked so sweetly.” But he’s gentle. Tender. He kisses your shoulder. Sinks in slow. And moans. Loud. Choked. Honest. You whimper and he shudders. “You taste like mine,” he whispers. Then he bites again.

⸺⟡⸺

🍀 anon… YOU’VE RUINED THEM. AND ME. thank you for this soft-depraved masterpiece of an ask. i hope you’re happy knowing that 8 powerful vampire men are now feral because you blinked at them and said “bite me.” 💋🦇

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🐚 ANON LOGGED: “Lotus was taken so I embraced the sea and claimed the shell—glub glub bitch.”

you are OFFICIALLY ON THE ROSTER and you are SO powerful for the 🐚 pick—soft ocean mystique meets secret fang-thirst?? YES.

and babyyyyy don’t worry 🥺🩵 i would love to see your Chan fan art if you ever feel ready to share. NO pressure, no face reveal needed, just vibes and glub glub magic.

welcome to the blood ocean, darling shell creature. love u 💋🦇

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if you made it to the end of this ask dump: CONGRATULATIONS YOU ABSOLUTE BEAST. you get a 🪙 GOLD STAR, a shot of vampire venom, and a forehead kiss from your fave.

thank you for the chaos, the thirst, the love, and the INSANE BRAINROT — keep sending asks!! I love them, I hoard them, I read them at 2AM and giggle like a Victorian ghost texting her crush via candlelight.

NOW IF YOU’LL EXCUSE ME… I am off to go write Changbin’s smut fic 🫣💦. and also think about what kind of mental illness I’ll unleash for Filthy Friday tomorrow.

ALSO. watch KPOP HUNTERS on Netflix. SAURRR GOOD. Your Idol and How It’s Done are on loop on my Apple Music.

until next time… Daku loves u 💋🦇

[fairlyang]

Roommate 🕷️

you get caught masturbating by your hot cocky roommate, and he helps you out

w/c: 4.3K

pairing: roommate!miguel x f!reader

tags: 18+ smut. fantasizing about him, thinking you're alone, being watched, flashbacks, he scared the living daylights out of you, secondhand embarrassment (I live for some cringe), confessions, rough, some spanish dirty talk (no Google translate but yes English translations), creampie, and passing tf out

notes: number three of my og fics from june and I don’t hate this one as much

You were a college student living in an apartment in New York with a cocky roommate because the rent would be too much for you alone. Miguel O'Hara.

You stumbled across his ad looking for a roommate who didn't have any kids, and wasn't a piece of shit who paid bills late. So you messaged him and said you were responsible with bills and didn't have any children. He messaged back within the same hour and asked when you can move in.

It was a little over a year since then and time flew fast. You almost never got to see Miguel because of school and work. You were in your junior year of college and were finally in a good working position with decent pay.

You weren't sure what kind of job Miguel has but it has to be something really frustrating because he comes home mad as shit super often. Maybe he works in construction? Not sure but he definitely has the build for it.

Now with finals week you were stressed as fuck scrambling to finish some work and any extra credit assignments to end your junior year of college well. You already had your day to day schedule set, classes between 8am-12pm and work between 2-10 occasionally 11.

Miguel's schedule on the other hand was all over the place and you never knew when you'd be seeing him, when he'd be home, and he still pays his half of the bills but what was the point if he barely stays here anyway?

You minded your business and the very rare times you end up stumbling across him you keep conversations casual not wanting to overstep or make him uncomfortable. But you still end up talking back to him playfully and he doesn't mind so that's been a good sign.

Tonight there was no sign of him, and you've been very stressed and touch starved all week long. You shut your bedroom curtains and jump onto your bed. You get comfortable and take off your pj pants but keeping your tank top on. You first start lightly rubbing your nipples, then pinching one and the other. You moan and feel them both getting hard. You squeeze your tits, closing your eyes.

You play with them imagining it's Miguel's hands on you instead of yours. "S-shit."

Your right hand trails down to your panties, you slowly rub your clit in circle subconsciously clenching your thighs from how sensitive it feels. You open your eyes and giggle. It's really been a while.

Your thoughts go back to Miguel and you've found him attractive since you stumbled upon his ad but it intensified when you moved in and he was around way more.

You were hanging in the living room reading when you hear a door slam and it startled you a bit. Then you hear a door open so you assumed Miguel just went back to his room so you kept reading.

You were sitting with your legs out on the sofa and you were facing the kitchen instead of the tv. Past the kitchen is a hallway that leads to your room, the bathroom then Miguel's at the end. You heard his footsteps moving around until you saw him walking straight into the kitchen with only a towel on his waist.

His skin was glistening, still wet. You widen your eyes and shook your head looking down at your book. But who were you kidding.... You bite your lip, looking up to look at his muscular back as he was getting something from the fridge. You look at how his shoulders move as he grabs something and your breathing becomes uneasy.

You quickly look back down at your book as he closes the fridge. We had an open bar kinda of island so you could look into the kitchen and he could look into the living room, which was what he was doing...

You felt his eyes on you so you try your best to stay calm, control your breathing and boom you're fine. Until he turns back around to get a snack from the cupboard reaching for the whatever was on the top shelf- he was already very tall so you knew he was doing for your viewing pleasure making you flush.

You roll your eyes but might as well- his biceps were huge, his shoulder blades were insane and your eyes began to feel very lustful. He puts down whatever he got and all of a sudden has to yawn and crack his back flexing everything for you to see. You felt like you were in a trance and couldn't look away until you heard him chuckle.

He starts turning around and you look down as soon as you saw him move and bite your lip. Shit shit shit. "Y'know you could take a picture if you'd like muñeca, they last longer." He says with a smirk on his face. (doll)

"I think I'll pass thanks." You say looking him in his eyes as you're scrunching your nose in fake disgust while he just smirks at you and walks away.

Your fingers were rubbing a little faster now slightly feeling your wetness over your panties. Damn.

You stop and lean over to your bedside table and grab your dildo. Might as well.

You move your panties to the side then spit on your dildo and making sure it gets everywhere. You grab it with one hand and use the other to stroke it. God why isn't this Miguel.

You lay on your stomach and close your eyes. You kiss the tip and start to slowly take it in your mouth. You moan and go lower until you feel the tip at your uvula. You pull away and moan using all your spit to stroke it again.

You move it to your bottom half and line it up to your wet pussy. "O-oh shit-" your eyes widen realizing how tight you are. Has it really been that long???

You take it out and start sucking again until you get more saliva and try to fit it inside again. The tip is barely in and you whine. You slowly fuck the tip into you until your pussy gets use to it and then it feels fine so you put it in a bit deeper and now you're halfway on your 8 inch dildo.

You moan and clench your thighs. You roll your eyes back and blink them open looking at how you fuck yourself slowly. You spread your legs with one hand between them fucking your pussy slowly when you push in further and take all of it. You whimper and shake a little. You grab a body pillow and place it on top of you, your empty hand grabbing onto it hard. You close your eyes and start to think of it being Miguel's dick inside you, teasing you not wanting to pound into you yet.

You decided to do some yoga in the living room while watching a video on the tv. You were in a sports bra and tight fitting shorts accentuating your curves, thighs, and ass. You didn't even hear him come in when you were doing the downward dog then switched to the doggy position unknowing you were being watched.

You did a straddle split and leaning forward for a solid minute when you heard a low whistle startling you. Your heart jumped out of your chest as you sit up and look behind you. "Were you... watching me?" You ask your eyebrows furrowed, confused as shit.

"Thought I could take some notes..." He says with a confident manner and gives you a wink making you roll your eyes.

"Acting as if you could do that O'Hara, no seas baboso." You chuckle and smirk. (Don't be stupid)

He has a smug grin on his face and you think of something. You go get into the extended doggy position earning a gulp and a quiet "chingada madre" from Miguel. (Mother fucker)

You try not to make any noises besides your steady breathing. You hold it for a good fifteen seconds before saying, "Take a picture it'll last longer."

"I just might..." he says sounding like he's out of breath making you smirk.

You fuck yourself faster and harder feeling your pussy starting to cream against your dildo. Your grip on the pillow was harder and needy, as if you were grabbing against Miguel's back. "F-fuck- mmmm god j-just like that" you moan out clenching against your dildo making you shake.

You stop for a second to control your breathing. You go back to it but at a slower pace, lovingly, and passionately. You fight back the urge to moan his name but couldn't resist. "Así Miguel- n-no pares—" you moan and feel yourself squirming into the mattress. (Just like that Miguel- d-don't stop—")

You move your hand a little faster and trying to hit deeper but you're feeling tired already. You whine as you hear the creaminess with every trust. My cream would look so good on his thick cock. "Miguel te necesito- fuckk- I need you- oh I need you so ba- bad-" you moan out shaking. (I need you)

You feel that familiar feeling in your stomach and you start to fuck yourself deeper and faster whining and moaning so much more. "Fuck- so g-good."

Your juices make even more noise and you start sweating so you move your pillow to the side never opening your eyes, for more immersion. Your left hand rubs your clit while your right is still going in and out of you. You suddenly feel your orgasm take over and you fuck yourself as deep as you can take it letting out the most animalistic moans and needy whines ever. "a-a- fuck- a-ay M-Miguel-! fill me s-so good p-pl- please-"

You completely stop, your whole body shaking, your mind all foggy and when you try to open your eyes they're all hazy so you just close them again. You calm your breathing and slowly take your dildo out. It plops out and sounds like it splashed out. Really sounds like you got filled.

You sigh and bring your dildo up to your lips softly kissing it. You then lick it and get a taste of your creamy pussy until you start to lick it off the whole thing. You get the taste of your pussy off your entire dildo until you find yourself sucking on it again. You take it down your throat just gagging on it until you pull it out and breathe out. All done.

You leave it on your stomach as you rub your eyes slowly a yawn coming out of your mouth. Wonder what time it is. You lean over to your bedside table putting it on a clean towel and check your phone. It's 12:58pm. Damn.

You leave your phone there, and go back to your previous position on your bed and yawn again rubbing your eyes. When you open them you scream. You sit up trying to cover yourself fast but it's too late. "M-MIGUEL??? W-WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING HERE?!?!??!?" You yell pulling your tank top down, and grabbing your pillow to cover your bottom half.

Your cheeks have never felt this hot in your life, oh GOD WHAT DID HE HEAR-

You feel sick to your stomach- he's literally just standing in the middle of the room with his eyes closed? But WHY-

Your eyes are wide, cheeks so fucking red. Oh my god he saw everything-  you gulp and reach down to quickly fix your panties and try to calm down. "So!??!??" You yell waiting for an answer.

He takes a step closer and you can finally see him clearly in the light. He was wearing a black tee with grey sweatpants making your breath hitch when you saw his stiff bulge. Once you look back at his face his eyes open and they're red.

You jump and your heart started beating fast as fuck. "Chingada madr— W- wha- who- Miguel? What the fuck-" (mother fucke-)

He walks over to the left side of the bed making you move to the other side scared shitless. He chuckles and as fast as you can blink he's on your side of the bed grabbing your hips and leading you against the wall, grinding you onto him. You whimper and try to get out of his grasp. "Don't try it doll... no need to act like you don't want me to play with you." He says using a finger to lift your chin to meet his eyes.

His red eyes filled with so much lust it scared you. Excited you even. "W-what are you-" You ask nervously biting your lip.

He chuckles again and pushes you against the wall. You gasp as his hands start to roam your body. You bite your lip as his hands caress your hips, smacks your ass, and then pulls on your hair from behind. Your head was pulled back as well and he leans in to kiss your neck. You moan and wrap your arms behind his neck twisting and pulling on pieces of hair. He groans against your skin and bites on it. You whimper and he leaves a wet kiss on it.

He pulls away but leans close to your face, "Wanna tell me what you were doing?" He leans in about to touch your quivering lips.

"I- uh I got- horny." You whisper breathing on his lips.

"Yeah? So horny you started thinking of me playing with you hmm?" Your thighs clench and you bite your lip looking up at him.

"Contéstame amor." He growls and you moan. (Answer me love)

"Mhm- it's not the first nor the last time I'll do it either." You say looking up at him with the most innocent eyes you could pull.

He groans and grinds his bulge against your stomach making your wide go wide. "Good girl...." He snarls making your thighs clench even more.

"What were you thinking of specifically right now as you came?" He asks tracing his fingers along your neck and collarbone.

"I- I- uh- mmm..."

"Answer." He growls and you nod.

He groans and quickly picks you up and holds you against the wall. "So you like being a dirty girl when I'm gone? Not even thinking I could catch you? Not bothering to think of how hard you make me...." He snarks a hand behind your neck.

This left you breathless and made you whimper more. You wrap your legs around his hips even more to have his bulge rub against your covered but drenched pussy. "I- fuck- I haven't touched myself in a week and I needed to feel something inside me- I n-never knew you thought of me that way-" you say and he growls grinding harder against you.

You both moan at the same time and he leans in millimeters from your lips. "I've been wanting to fuck you since we met." He whispers and you smash your lips together. He reciprocated and moans into your mouth.

You have one hand on his cheek and the other gripping hairs between your fingers. His were on your neck and playing with your hair. His tongue slides into your mouth and you let him. His tongue was exploring your mouth and you couldn't even believe this was happening. You tug on his shirt to take it off and he pulls away for literally a second somehow taking it off and his lips were back on yours. "Tan hermosa...." (So beautiful)

You moan and he grinds harder against you. He groans against your mouth and you feel him grab your tank top. Then you hear the sound of fabric ripping and in two seconds its gone. "I'll get you a new one." He mutters when you stopped kissing back to say something.

"So how long were you watching me for? you perv..." You ask pulling away finally getting your hands on his broad shoulders and big biceps.

"As soon as you started fucking yourself. God I heard your moans and couldn't help myself coming in to watch- mm I needed to finally have you for myself." He answers and leaves another mark on your neck but going towards your chest.

"You can have all of me." You whisper making him squeeze your tits roughly and suck on your nipple so roughly.

You gasp and he carries you to the bed. He puts you down towards the middle and he gets on top of you kissing you desperately. Your hands are all over each other and the kiss get more and more heated, needy, and hot. He pulls away and leaves trails of kisses on your jaw, when he leaves a couple marks on your neck. "Fuck-"

He kisses them after leaving marks and goes down to suck on your nipples again while his hand goes down to rub you over your panties. "Mmm- fuck- así M-Miguel." You moan out and feel yourself shake a bit.

He runs your clit a little faster but it's still sensitive so you buck your hips up whining. He stops and pulls away looking up at you, "was that too much?"

"N-no just uh still sensitive." You say looking anywhere but his eyes.

"Then how about no foreplay and I just fuck you?" He whispers making you clench your thighs.

He smirks and leans in to kiss you. You tug on the waistband of his sweats while kissing him and he grunts. "Well actually I might wanna use your mouth a bit...." He says and you smile.

You grab him and flip positions so you're on top of him. You sit up and place yourself right on his bulge and grind on it slowly. He leans his head back his mouthing in the shape of an o and his breathing heavy. "Don't tease me too much or you won't end up liking the outcome...."

You shrug and lay one hand against his chest while grinding against him. "Jesus you're so hard- did you even stroke yourself watching me or just tortured yourself and watched?" You ask with a chuckle making him smirk.

"Might’ve been more interested in the show to even do anything...." He says and winks.

You grin and go down his body, tracing your fingers along every crevice and line, along his abs and v line. You lick down his v line to where his sweats were. "Don't need these right now..." you pull them down as he shifts up a bit so you can get them over his ass.

You slide them all the way down and just look at his bulge over his tight fitting boxers. It looks so long and thick. "Wore these on purpose hm?"

"Just took a guess." He says with a smirk.

You grab the top of the boxers and pull them off slowly until you get to where the whole thing just plops out and hits his stomach making your eyes widen. "Now suck on it like you sucked on your dildo." He says making you gulp. He's insane.

It was a good 8 to 9 inches but so fucking girthy your mind couldn't wrap your head around it. You grab the bottom of it and you have to practically grab it with both your hands. You bite your lip then kiss the tip softly. Then you stick your tongue out and slap it against your wet tongue. He quietly moans and you look up at him and do it again. He rolls his eyes back and his head against the headboard. You giggle and spit on the tip watching it all go down and slowly stroke it to have all the saliva cover it. You spit on it some more and start stroking him. While you do that you go down to his balls and suck on them. You could hear him moan some more and you could feel how wet it's making you. "Así cariño no pares- ay si-" (Just like that dear don't stop- oh fuck)

You stroke him a little faster now and come up to suck on it. You get in a decent position and slide it in your mouth slowly. You close your eyes and start going down and back up. You go about halfway until he thrusts his hips making you take the whole thing down your throat, and you moan on it. You pull up and breathe out. "Would you prefer to fuck my face? I don't have a gag reflex...."

He widens his eyes and grabs you leading you towards the floor. You get on your knees while he stands in front of you. "It won't be for too long.... This time." He says with a wink making your cheeks flush red.

"I just really need to feel your throat real quick... then that wet pussy." He says and you nod.

"You can pull on my hair too if you want..."

"Dios- porque estas tan perfecta- mas que me imaginé..." he says and goes straight to work grabbing your hair with one hand and letting you put your mouth on it first. (God- why are you so perfect- more than I imagined...)

He starts to slowly move his hips letting you adjust for a few seconds before he finally starts going faster. Your head is still and he's the one doing all the moving, you close your eyes while you feel him in your mouth going deeper and deeper. You feel him go down your throat and he keeps hitting it making you drip. He goes faster and he doesn't stop moaning your name while still having a tight grip on your hair. "Fuck- Y/n your t-throat feels so good."

You moan against his dick and he groans. "Fuck this-" he says and moving back and sliding his dick out of your mouth.

He grabs your hands helping you get up only to have him man handle you on to the bed making you lay on your stomach. "Ass up now." He says in a stern voice and you comply.

You move your ass as much as you can and then arch your back. "The dirtiest girl huh?" He smirks and lines up his dick to your pussy.

"Nomas para ti Miguel." You murmur looking back at him and he moans and slams into you making you jump and whimper. (Just for you Miguel)

"H-holy fu- oh s-shit-!" you moan, your legs shaking already.

He grabs onto your hips and starts fucking you faster already not letting you adjust at all. You moan and roll your eyes back. He's moaning and groaning the room filled with the sound of skin to skin, his body against yours. "Migue-" you moan out and lay your head against the bed.

"Fuck baby- god you feel so much better than I thought you would." He says making you whimper and clench cashing him to moan.

"Fuck- oh fuck you're so tight around me baby-"

His words just do something to your body and you're already feel all dazed and obsessed with him fucking you. So many months of fantasizing and now it's finally happening. He's pounding into you and smacking your ass leaving it red. "Miguel deeper plea-"

He cuts you off by fucking you deeper making you both moan and making you clench around him again as well as whine. "O-oh fuck- oh Miguel I'm-"

"Me too baby, fuck I wanna cum inside you-" he moans out and you clench again making him go faster.

He's pounding into you and you feel your orgasm come fast. He moans with every trust he makes and it's driving you insane. Your arch is no longer an arch as your legs were slowly giving up on you but that didn't stop Miguel from still fucking you hard and also leaning down to you his mouth to your ear, and whispering dirty things to you. "Así soñabas que te cogiera nena? Eh? Quisiste esto desde que me viste huh? Yo se que yo si, mmm desde que v-veniste el primer día." (Is this how you dreamed I'd fuck you baby girl? You've wanted this since you first saw me huh? I know I did, mm since the first time you c-came.)

Your eyes rolls back and you whimper, "fuck- yes- fuck I dreamt you'd fuck me like this every- every fucking night Miguel."

He goes back to his original position but he flips you around so you're on your back while he was still inside you. "I wanna look at your pretty face while I cum deep inside you."

You wrap your arms around his neck and bring him in for a kiss. It's instantly needy and desperate, his tongue in your mouth and yours trying to go into his, with his pace still going strong. "P-pleas-"

He goes a bit slower and he moans in your mouth. Your hands go to his back light digging your nails into his skin which makes him groan. He fucks you deeper again unexpectedly so your nails dig into his skin a little harder and you feel close. "M-Miguel- I'm so- fu- I'm so clo-"

He pulls away him your mouth and nods, "me too angel- cum with me."

You moan and wrap your legs around his legs and it feels even bigger inside you. You both moan together and his legs start shaking. You're feeling tired fast but you need to cum with him. Your eyes are closing as you're ready for him to cum inside you to sleep together. You both start shaking as you clench around him and he groans finally shooting his cum inside you and your orgasm takes over, your legs shaking as he stops. You're both panting in each others face when he goes all the way inside you making sure every inch of you is covered. He slowly pulls out and all his cum spills out. "Jesus fuck Y/n- holy- god that pussy worked fucking wonders."

You shake and just nod before closing your eyes and losing consciousness. "Goodnight love."

[11cupids-tarot11]

Pile 1 -> 3 🩷

Short random messages regarding love for you! 💓

Pile 1- the chariot, the star and seven of coins

For starters the star card is making me think you might already have a crush on this person or might know of them, take what resonates for you.

For others, I'm getting this person might just really admire you. I'm hearing they like you so much they're willing to basically cross seas for you.

This person is strong willed meaning when it comes to you nothing else matters in the world, I think they have their eyes on a prize and are very determined when they want something which would appear to be you lol

I think this person is already planning y'all future in their head, like they've really got everything figured out even how they want to approach you 😭 (that's cute lol)

I feel like this person just really wants to say you're all in their space and they're accepting it. Like they can't wait for the day you two come together (and get married I'm hearing for some 😉😜) but they're definitely planning on making their move soon!

Other messages- 1111 might be significant, you're hot, lots of dates in nature, can't wait to kiss you, I miss you already.

Pile 2- I FORGOT TO WRITE DOWN THE NAME OF THE CARDS BUT I WILL NOT FORGET NEXT TIME MY POOKIES 🤞🏾😜🩷

Okay, for this pile I'm picking up on a dynamic that's like light and day, one person in this connection is a bit colder, closed off and I feel like someone in this connection just refuses to give up.

I'm hearing 'let your doors down' and this person might feel very hurt that the other isn't open to the same emotion intimacy the other is into.

I'm seeing it might be best to take a break, maybe the relationship has gotten to a point neither of you had meant it to or you're just really disappointed by the outcome and they're clearly not up to your standards and it's not good to settle for less.

I'm seeing maybe some of us are trying a little too hard to hang onto this connection but we can't change nor fix something that's not broken.

I am seeing for some of you that removing your energy might actually make this person miss you, and if they love you enough they'll come around and compromise so the both of you can feel fulfilled and happy in the relationship and if they don't clearly they weren't the ones for you and that's okay, because you never know when the universe is going to throw someone new your way! This could be a blessing in disguise 🥸.

Other messages- 444 could be significant, the color red, maybe a red car? I have no idea what song this is but it's got something to do with driving?idk ur person is singing it 🤣 Maybe that's significant for someone out there?

Pile 3-

So for this pile I actually heard 'its time!" I think this pile is being called to awaken to something or for some of you a special someone? 🥹

Okay this message was a little harder to read but I think both ends have been stressing out over this? And it's kind of ridiculous because you're both literally good people according to spirit that would have a very beautiful relationship and would grow like a freaking fruit tree! I think spirit is saying since neither of you will make a move they'll be forced to push both of you using the universe- like magic almost I'm hearing.

This pile was shorter, and I'm also randomly hearing someone in this connection could be short lol? I think someone here might smile a lot too, I'm seeing smiley faces!

Other messages- the song 'Magic by txt', 12, 111, the color yellow and maybe the month of May- June might be significant for some of y'all?

Have a fantastic day! 🌹 See you all again soon! Hope you enjoyed 😊

Dm for personal readings!

[jareaul0ver]

loml

wc: 1.8k warnings: kate being a bad gf, straight angst, no happy ending (sorry! no im not) pairings: kate martin x fem!reader

January, 2023

You sat courtside of an Iowa game, your eyes trained on your girlfriend the whole time. On the court, off the court, she was yours. Every basket she'd make, she'd immediately point to you.

The fans loved it. She loved it. You loved it. You wore her jersey with pride, letting everyone know you were hers. Two years into your relationship, it never got old.

The second the buzzer rang out, she searched the stands for you, noticing how you hustled down the stairs to rush to the court. To rush to her.

Your arms found her neck and hers your waist. She spun you around before placing a kiss against your lips. "Good job out there, K-Money." You giggled.

She laughed softly and hugged you against her. "Always have to do good for you, baby." Her pet names for you never failed to make your knees weak.

After her post-game responsibilities, you both headed to her suite. You laid on her bed, her head resting against your chest as you ran you fingers through her long blonde hair.

"I'm gonna marry you one day, Kate." You mumbled. Her eyes shot open and she sat up straight to look at you.

Your heart almost dropped when she didn't say anything. When she didn't kiss you, or hug you, or even smile. That feeling only lasted a quick moment though, before she pressed her lips firmly against yours.

"You're the love of my life." She whispered against your lips. Tingles shot down your spine.

Early May, 2023

"Where the hell are you taking me?" You laughed as Kate forced you into the passenger seat of her car, shutting the door before walking around and getting in herself.

With a bright smile she leaned in and pecked your lips. "To your surprise."

You rolled your eyes but grinned. She started the car and drove away from campus. Her car was beginning to fill with everything she needed to take home from campus, as it was almost the end of her final year at Iowa.

She drove for a bit before pulling into the parking garage underneath an apartment complex. "Are we visiting someone?" You asked, confusion evident in your voice.

"Uh, no." She said quickly before putting the car in park, hopping out, and rushing around to the other side to open your door.

"Then what-"

"Just trust me." She said softly. You nodded and she took your hand in hers, taking you over to the elevator. She pressed the button to the fourth floor, and one silent ride later, you arrived.

She walked you down the hallway to apartment 403, and pulled out a key. The door was quickly unlocked and swung open. Both of you stepped in and you looked around at the empty apartment.

"Surprise!" She said from behind you. You spun around and looked at her as she held up a small sign, her name and yours carved into it, above the word "home".

Your eyes widened and your lips twitched into a smile. "You're kidding. You're kidding!" You squealed, launching yourself into Kate's arms.

She laughed and held you tight against her. "I'm not kidding." She leaned back, forcing you to look at her. Her hand gently cupped your face, her eyes peering into yours. "I want this with you. Forever."

"Forever." You whispered back.

Early June, 2023

Moving in with Kate should have been the best thing that you two could have done. With you still being in school, living with her took away the stress of having to worry about paying for housing on campus.

She was still focused on basketball, planning to stay with Iowa for a fifth year since she was eligible. It was supposed to be perfect.

But it had only been a month and it was already hell.

You argued constantly. Not even over anything worth arguing about, but she seemed to always want to pick a fight with you. She was rarely ever home, always practicing during the day and going out with the team during the night.

One night she came home particularly drunk. You were up late, working on something for a summer course that you had opted to take, freeing up a slot in your fall semester.

"Babe?" She shouted the second she walked in the door. You winced a bit at the loudness of her voice. You were sitting right there, on the sofa that was directly in her line of sight.

"Hm?" You said, annoyance evident in your voice, but Kate chose to ignore it. She came over to you and pulled your laptop away from you, closing it and tossing it to the other side of the couch. "Kate, what the hell-"

She sat next to you on the couch before putting all her weight onto you, her body slumping against yours. You tried to push her off, but couldn't. Damn her athleticism.

"Get off, Kate, I have to finish something." You reached for your laptop but she grabbed your hand and pulled it down.

"You don't wanna lay with me?" She slurred, the smell of alcohol strong on her breath.

You sighed, once against trying to push her away. "No, frankly, I don't."

She sat up and the smug smile on her face faltered. "Why're you being a bitch?" She spat.

"Excuse me?" You scoffed.

"You're being a bitch." She made sure to emphasize it this time. You knew she was drunk, but it still didn't make it hurt any less.

You stood up and took a few steps away. "I'm not dealing with this right now. You're drunk, you're sleeping on the couch tonight." You quickly walked towards your bedroom and shut the door behind you.

Late June, 2023

The last month had been incredibly tense. You and Kate both decided to pretend that there was nothing wrong, even though there clearly was.

You were walking on eggshells around her, scared that one wrong move would send her running.

You were surprised when she invited you to go out with her and her friends from the basketball team, but you happily went along, hoping to make some relationship amends during the night.

Everyone sat in a huge booth at a random bar one of the girls found. Kate excused herself to go grab a drink for herself, so you sat awkwardly, as you didn't know any of her friends very well.

Jada called out your name and your head snapped in her direction. You held a small smile, while her face was a little confused. "I'm surprised Kate invited you, to be honest."

Your smile faded. "What do you mean?"

"She said you two weren't doing too well. That you were really pissy with her all the time, starting stupid fights and shit." She shrugged. "Thought she would have broken up with you by now based off the things she's said."

The room went silent. Your heart dropped. Was this true? The look on Jada's face silently assured you that it was.

Tears started to well in your eyes and you excused yourself from the table, quickly going outside to get some air.

When Kate returned to the table, she noticed you were gone. Jada nodded towards the exit and Kate started walking towards it. She opened the door and saw you outside, sitting on the curb with tears in your eyes.

She moved over and put her hand on your shoulder. "Baby? What's wrong?" You turned at the sound of her voice and pulled away from her.

"You don't get to call me that anymore." Your voice was shaky, but was laced with malice.

"What?" She laughed, a little confused. "What're you talking about?" She stepped towards you, reaching out but you backed away.

You shook your head and scoffed. "You talked shit about me to your friends behind my back, and expect me to be okay with it?" Kate froze and her eyes widened. She opened her mouth to speak but you cut her off.

"After everything I've done for you. After everything we've been through together, you go and do this?" Tears ran down your face. "Fuck you, Kate. I'm done. This is done."

"You're really ending this over something so fucking stupid?” She scoffed, crossing her arms.

Your eyes widened. “You think this is stupid? Jada was surprised I was here. Jada was surprised you haven’t ended things yet.”

Kate stayed silent, the look on her face was unreadable, something that came as a shock to you. You thought you knew her. You had been together for nearly three years, but now she seems like a stranger.

“You said I was the love of your life, Kate.” Your voice broke.

A beat of silence passed between the two of you, the only sound being heard was your chest heaving and the music blasting from inside.

“I was wrong.” She said flatly before turning around to walk back inside. “Have your stuff gone by this weekend.”

You watched her walk back inside. The second she stepped foot past those doors, you knew it was over. She was never coming back, and you’d have to accept that.

April 15, 2024

You sat comfortably on your couch, flipping through the channels of your television, until you came across the one you were looking for.

You transferred to UConn early in the year. It hurt too much to see Kate being so successful on the basketball team. Every little thing in Iowa was a reminder of her, and you needed to escape.

Figures you ended up at the school that got knocked out by Iowa in the final four, but how were you supposed to predict that?

Things were different at first. You felt out of place, a stranger to everything in Storrs, but you quickly adjusted, meeting some of your best friends.

Those best friends happened to play basketball. Paige, Nika, Azzi, practically the whole team came to love you. So you had to support them. You attended their home games, even the ones against Iowa. It hurt seeing Kate, it hurt more than anything had ever hurt you in your life.

But you pushed it aside. You were there for your friends, not your ex-lover who treated you like a piece of garbage.

You watched the draft, not being surprised by most of the players getting drafted. Aaliyah, one of your closest friends, being picked at 6th. Nika at 12th.

The smile never left your face. Your pride for your friends shining in your eyes, evident in the texts you immediately sent after their names were called.

That smile faded, though, at the 18th overall pick. “The Las Vegas Aces select… Kate Martin.”

Kate stood up, hugging all those around her, feeling incomplete. She shouldn’t, though. She just got drafted to the WNBA. What could be missing?

She walked to the stage, took a picture, did her small interview and the draft commenced on. The smile she had on her face was real, sure, but it wasn’t nearly as real as it was whenever she used to be with you.

As she stood there, processing everything that happened, she realized the thing she was missing was you. She was incomplete without you.

But it was too late now, you were the loss of her life.

[saraptor-art]

A break

Hi everyone! I'm not happy to make this post and I know I don't owe anyone anything but it is how it is...

TLDR : I need to take some time to write without having to post chapters of the fic. Which I hate to do. Feels like I'm failing at something D:

But I am just so tired... Work is crazy (in a good and stressful way). I'm working on bringing our first video game to life and it is taking all my creative juices at the moment. All my juices full stop.

I want to rebuilt a few buffer chapters for the fic because I've been writing raw for the past few months and I don't like it. To be honest, I feel like the last chapters were a bit rushed and I think they were quantity over quality. Especially the last one, I like the idea and everything I've put in it but it lacks a lot of the ideas exploration I wanted to put in it. It was supposed to be a lot more about Kuro than it ended up being. I might even rewrite some of it.

Especially with the next few chapters, I would like to write them as a whole before posting them. I think that means there won't be a chapter out before August :/ but at least I haven't left you in a horrible cliff hanger I think?

When I started posting Sea, Salt and Sun, I already had most of the plot and I thought I would be done in a year. But I ended up adding much more and wanted to make everything more coherent so it is obvioulsy not been done in a year xD

I'll be catching up with all your lovely questions here also in the meantime :D I'm also writting a little one shot with Hatchan and an OC/reader which is fun. I might do a few quick one shots of life in Arlong Park, to refresh my mind! I also want to bring to paper some of the minor character design and I still really want to do the map of Arlong Park T_T

I'm sure you know the drill, too much ideas, too little time or too little energy!

Thanks for following the Sea, Salt and Sun adventure! I can't tell you how much it means to me! I hadn't posted fancontent anywhere since I was 18! So for all of you to follow along and chat and comment, I'm just in awe! See you soon!

ALSO my birthday is the last day of June and we are almost 200 here so if you want me to do something special, do tell :D

[tf-bigbang]

Sign-ups for the event open in less than a week! Curious about what a Reverse Bang entails? The Decepticon Disinformation Division has put together an infographic just for you. Feel free to check out our Big Bang infographic from last year as well if you want to learn more.

Full text under the cut:

Page 1

Reverse Bangs and You: An Infographic, featuring: Josh Boyfriend, corporate shill’. Brought to you by the mods of the TF Big Bang.

What is a Big Bang?

Big Bangs are fandom events where writers and artists are paried up to create a fic and art collaboration. They’re meant to generate an ‘explosion’ of new fanworks, hence the name. In traditional Bangs, the writer comes up with a fic concept, and the artist illustrates the resulting fic.

So… What’s a Reverse Bang?

In a Reverse Bang, the format is flipped. The artist comes up with a concept for their piece, and the fic writer uses that art as their prompt. This is what we’re doing this year!

Why a Reverse Bang?

1) A different dynamic. This year, artists get the chance to come up with their own prompts, and collaborate with a writer on a short fic. It’s an opportunity to approach your ideas a little differently!

2) Meet the community. Embrace the opportunity to become involved with the wider Transformers creative fandom!

3) Collaborate. Make something fun and exciting together with new friends! This is a chance to broaden your creative horizons.

How Does this Work?

Sign-ups: Artists have until March 24th to join. Writers have until April 7th to join. You must join the discord to participate. Remember- if you sign up, you’re in!

Artists' sketch submission: Artists submit their initial sketch to the Big Bang mods on April 28th. Sketches are shared with writers, who’ll then rank their selections for match-ups.

Pairings!: The mods will use our special algorithm™ to assign each writer one (1) artist from their top choices.

Creation period! Artists and writers will be set loose into their team channels. You’ll have from May 6th - June 30th to finish your fic and artwork. At the end of it all, it’s time to post your work and say “Whoa, I did that!”

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2024 Logistics:

Want to work with someone new?

Meet new friends! Work with a prompt you might not have thought up on your own! Random pairs aren’t exactly random. Writers will rank a set number of artworks they would be interested in using as a prompt for their fic, and the mods will algorithmically assign teams based on this.

Already have a collaborator?

Pre-paired groups come into the event knowing they want to work with each other. When applying to the event, there will be a line where you can request a partner. In order to be accepted as pre-paired, both the artist and writer must request each other. The second section is about the size of the event.

This year we go mini!

Smaller commitment: Lower requirements, lower stress. We’re requiring one (1) full illustration from our artists and 5,000 words from our authors.

Faster timeline: This year, our turnaround from sign-ups to posting is only four months. It’s a smaller commitment!

Bitesized fun: Get a little taste of collaborating with a new friend in the fandom!

[h5eavenly]

Carousel┃H.HJ SMAU

Thirty-Five - Flickers Of The Past I.

TW: mentions of disordered eating, diets, mental health issues and suicide.

wc: 8.3

playlist: dollhouse - melanie martinez / cardigan - taylor swift / until i found you - Stephen Sanchez

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The first time you ever saw Hyunjin you were seven years old. It was amid a hot June summer; the scorching hot weather and unforgiving sun were unrelenting. Swearing to make the process of you and your family moving into a new neighborhood absolute hell. Not for you though, the only thing that was causing you discomfort is your long hair. Adding unnecessary layer to provide heat on your neck and causing beads of sweat to roll down it.

Your mom had muttered countless excuses to you. Something about how this time your dad is finally gonna make it. His business is gonna flourish and soon enough you’ll be rich. You didn’t really understand what does having money make any difference? You only wanted three things right now, your mom, dad and one of the cookies that your mom had placed on a plate on the table in front of you. A rumbling in your tummy only confirms your hunger.

“Stay still Y/N.” she warns, pulling slightly on your hair as you had inched forward without noticing. You nodded earning a tsk in return. You stilled, shoulders slumped and trying not squirm in discomfort. The thigh highs your mom forced you to wear cling to your thighs in sweat. Your mom continued brushing your hair, tying your hair in pigtail to start working on the left section of your hair.

“Can I have a cookie mommy?” you ask with a hiss when she finally tied the remaining hair in a pigtail, like the right one. Your mom stood up; her brown hair falls beautifully over her shoulders, resembles silk. She sighs, a line of annoyance between her brows “it’s not time for your snacks yet Y/N.”

“But mommy I’m hungry” your small palm clutched the end of her red dress, a pout that would be described as adorable to anyone else but to your mom it was an eyesore. It was what she always said.

“Don’t be an eyesore Y/N. I don’t care if you’re hungry you need to wait.” She scolded with a stern voice and a glare you were too used to in her eyes. And just like that your small heart crumbles, breaking into pieces right at her feet. She turned away with a huff, her black heels stepping all over your broken heart. Breaking it into smaller pieces just to make sure that you won’t be able to pick it up.

You didn’t cry, despite the lingering heaviness in your heart. You told yourself it didn’t matter; your mom was probably just stressed. She always is whenever you guys moved and with this being the third time already in a year. She was probably overwhelmed. You adjusted the overall strap of your dress that had fallen to lie beside your elbow. An ache in your knees as you stood up. Your big eyes had stayed on the narrow corridor leading to your parent’s room.

You counted to ten and when there was no sign of your mom coming out, your small hand reached for one of the cookies in a hurry. Panic has your heart picking up its pace, a fear clinging to the tips of your fingers. Your other hand clutching the ear of your stuffed bunny, your small feet scrambling in hurry towards the door leaving a trail of cookie crumbs on the floor. The sound of the front door closing echoes in your empty house. Reminding your little mind that this isn’t home it’s nothing but another stop sign along the way.

Once you’re outside, you sit down on the steps of the front porch. Your stuffed bunny sitting by your leg as you chew away on your chocolate chip cookie. Humming in delight with a smile as you turn to watch the two boys playing soccer on your one of neighbor’s lawn. It wasn’t fun to watch simply because you did not understand a thing, did not understand if they were good or bad. Why was the girl cheering, on the ground with catlike eyes and a big smile. Was she cheering them both or one of them?

As if on instinct one of the boys had noticed you, leaving their game unattended to look at you. Locking eyes with you had you frozen in place, the cookie half way into your mouth. For an odd reason an uncomfortable feeling had travelled its way through your body, like you had been caught doing something you shouldn’t have perhaps that’s why when the boy with midnight black hair, a mole under his right eye, waved at you with overflowing excitement, your face burned, and you turned away. Walking back to your house in hurrying manner. A strange feeling in your chest. You blamed it on the boy’s smile, it was as bright as the sun.

Three weeks exactly after that you saw him again. You were waiting at the bus stop, short legs swinging back and forth as you sat comfortably on the wooden bench. Your dark hair is tied into a high ponytail and away from your face. Your pink skirt and matching thigh highs were added cuteness to your already chubby cheeks or at least that’s what the lady next door had said to you. It had earned you two small cartons of strawberry milk. One that is between your hands and its straw in your mouth while the other is protected in your pink bunny backpack.

The sound of sniffles had your ears perked up; attention stole. Looking to where they were coming from you saw a small boy, almost the same size as you, curled up on the sidewalk. Head in his hands. You eyed him curiously, a bit surprised by the number of adults passing by and not sparing him a glance. You weren’t really a brave kid, always more on the shy side, refusing to talk to strangers and clinging to your mother’s leg during social events. So, what you did next was definitely out of character for you.

Jumping down the bench, you threw your now empty carton of milk into a nearby trashcan. A hop in your step, the sun warming the coldness in your palms as you settled right beside him. Shoulders brushing and with your presence he looked up, eyes red and tear streaks over his pretty mole. You were surprised, didn’t expect it to be the boy from your neighborhood.

“Why are you crying?” you had asked, head tilting in spirit of inquiry. The boy eyes sharpen, a childish glint in them as he crossed his arms over his chest “I’m not crying!” he defended weakly, bottom lip trembling “mom said big boys like me never cry!” as if mocking him a tear rolled down his cheek, followed by another just to break down the act he worked so hard on putting on.

Your chest had tightened painfully in sympathy, an emotion you still didn’t know what to call.

“But it’s okay to cry when you’re sad doesn’t matter if you’re big or small.” The words came to your small brain like common sense, colored in innocence. He shook his head stubbornly, despite the sniffles escaping his mouth. Your own lips have formed into a pout, searching your brain for a way to make his sadness disappear.

“What happened?” you finally asked after a while, a black cat taking its place next to your leg. You scratched behind its ear with a smile and Hyunjin watched you with tear clouded vision.

“I-I think my dad is sick.” He muttered between sniffles; you furrowed your brows “tell him to take some medicine. Mommy always gives me that when I’m sick. It tastes awful but it makes me feel better.”

“I told my mom that too.” Hyunjin replies, his own hand reaching over your lap to scratch at the cat’s ears. It starts purring, eyes closed in bliss “but she says he’s sick in here.” He explains by pointing to his head with his index finger and a pout on his pink lips. You grow even more confused haven’t heard of people being sick in the head, but you keep quiet. Nodding in faux understanding as you tell yourself you should read about it later. A short silence settles between you two when the cat jumps into Hyunjin’s lap and curls on itself.

Hyunjin chuckles, the only evidence of his sadness is the lines of tears drying on his cheeks “she likes me!” Hyunjin mumbles cheerfully as he turns to you with a big smile, the same one you saw three weeks ago and that was as warm as the sun. You smile back at him “yeah.”

At the end of the street, you notice your familiar school bus making its way towards the stop “I have to go now.” You announce standing up and adjusting the straps of your backpack. Hyunjin pays you no mind, nodding slightly as he is too immersed in his excitement about petting the cat on his lap. You loiter, staring at the boy before unzipping your pink backpack and taking out the strawberry milk you were planning on drinking later.

“Take this.” You said, outstretching your hand to him with the carton. Hyunjin looked up, eyes widening slightly in surprise “I don’t like strawberry milk.”

“But why? It tastes good and it helps me when I’m feeling down.”

“Really?”

“Yes! I was feeling down this morning but now I’m so much better!” you boosted, an enthusiasm in your voice that had him growing slightly excited as well. He took it, a pink coloring his cheeks as this has been the first time he had ever taken anything from a girl aside from Yeji “Okay!”

“Later sad boy!” you waved with a big smile, his own words of protest left unsaid when you turned around and ran towards the bus stop.

After that day you never saw Hyunjin, not around the bus stop and nowhere around the neighborhood. You heard your mom and the women next door talk about how the Hwang’s moved away because her husband has passed away. It didn’t make much sense to you back then, but you only remember realizing that you never asked for his name, and he never asked for yours.   

You don’t see Hyunjin again until you’re sixteen. It’s another wheel of destiny that spins you around just to throw you in the same spot as him, for you guys to clash into one another. But back then, you hadn’t realized it yet. It was a similar cycle, an old record that had played repeatedly till you memorized all the tracks. You had just moved to a new neighborhood, a house bigger than your last one, a more modern version than the last one with marble floors and big glass windows, a slick black aesthetically pleasing kitchen. It all meant nothing to your mom though, not good enough because even though your dad was making a lot more money than last year. He wasn’t rich enough for his name to mean something. It’s evident in the way your mom grumbles all afternoon, brows knitted and a scowl permanent on her face. You ignore her, lazing around on the couch in the living room and counting the number of black dots decorating the ceiling.

The faint sound of music coming from the turned on tv aids you in keeping your mind off your reality.

“Y/N! come on it’s time for your meal!” she calls for you from the kitchen, voice sounding a bit far just to remind you of the bigger space of this house. You sigh, rolling off the couch and onto your feet, passing by the unopened boxes and through foyer the only seems to grow longer with every house. You make it to the kitchen to be greeted with the plate your mom had made specifically for you, a bunch of steamed vegetables. Broccoli, carrots, and peas.

A sour taste settles in your throat, the emptiness of your stomach nudges to ask for more and you contemplate it, fingers drumming on the kitchen island.

“Can I at least have protein?” you finally ask, voice weak and unsure and your body wavers in similar weakness when your mom turns to face you with a hateful glare. As if she’s offended “You had protein for breakfast that’s enough.” She spits with disgust dousing her tone, and you don’t need her to say more to know exactly what she’s thinking, it’s the way her eyes trail over your body with a wrinkled nose. As if she hates to look at you.

“But I’m hungry.” You try to argue, ignoring the goosebumps raising on your body due to her harsh eyes.

“Being a little hungry won’t kill you Y/N. Now eat your food and shut up. You’re giving me a headache.” She rubs her hand over his face and then through her hair, an act of stress and your anxiety renders you mute. But your mother never stops and that’s always been her downfall. A greed that’s never full and it’s the same way with her mouth, always spilling venom and leaving it behind for you to clean up.

“Just look at your body, always talking about how hungry you are no wonder none of the diets are working.” She’s talking to herself, you realize that. And it’s not something you haven’t heard before, so you don’t know why it triggered you that day. Maybe it was another card destiny had thrown on your unfortunate table.

“I don’t fucking care about my body” the words have divulged from your mouth without warning, spilling like vomit. It was the first time you cursed in front of your mom, the first time you argued this long for a while, but you don’t get to dwell on the thought, don’t get to reflect long enough when her palms come in contact with your right cheek in a burning slap.

It’s not the first time she has hit you, it happened a few times before, so you wonder why does is it more agonizing each time? Why do your eyes still fill with tears and why does betrayal seep into your eyes, into your shocked look at her. As if she was anything different than a snake who sank her teeth into you. But she looks at you as if you’re a criminal who had stabbed her right in the heart, feed on it and threw the rest to dogs.

“Go to your room no food for you today.” It was a punishment you knew was waiting for you down the line the longer you had talked. And the best way to deal with all this was to take it but instead you run away. An ocean of tears had clouded your vision and you had somehow ended up on the beach. Sniffling as you hugged your legs to your body.

Now that you think about it you know fate had played you, placed you in another position where you would have no choice but to run into him, you had no choice but to be cursed by him but that’s not how you felt when his ball hit you, it’s not what you felt when even more tears had streamed down your face because what else could go wrong?

Frustration had bubbled in your blood, blending itself with your sadness to form a puddle of overwhelmingly painful emotions that you had no choice but to lay in. It gets worse when Hyunjin had jogged your worry, his apology dies on his tongue when you make eye contact with him. Teary yet fiery eyes pierce his soul, and he was never the type to be left speechless. It comes to him like a flame blown out from a candle and the heat burns him.

At his name being called, he picks his ball and turns away. The face of the crying girl on the beach leaves him awake an hour longer at night.

The second time you see Hyunjin it’s in the halls of your school. It was early in the morning, the halls bustling with students rushing to their first class. You were by your locker, getting your biology book out and once you closed it shut the last thing you expected to see that morning is the face of none other than Hyunjin. Leaning on the locker next to you with a tight smile on his face

 “Hi.” He says and somehow his voice is nothing like you expected, it ends up being on the sweeter side, pleasant to hear.

“Hey?” you reply with an edge of confusion in your tone, clear enough that it makes him nervous. Pushing a hand through his already pushed back black hair “I’m Hyunjin. Hwang Hyunjin.” You nod signaling for him to continue, by now you already knew who Hyunjin was. It was impossible not to know him when his name was on everyone’s tongue. The talk about the endless impressive acts of his are a record you had to endure daily from every student you come across. From his outstanding dance skills at the dance club to his impressive plays on the field during soccer games. Getting the captain title was a piece of cake for him, a piece he hadn’t even planned on eating, but it ended up right on his plate by its own.

His silence stretches a minute or two too long as if he’s waiting for you to say something back, when you don’t, he clears his throat in attempt to regain his missing confidence “Uh- I hit you with my ball last week. At the beach? Remember?”

“I do,”

“Great! Uh I’m sorry about that.”

“it’s okay.” You assure with a smile in hope it will dissipate the awkwardness “how is your head by the way?” he trails bunglingly, fingers pointing to your head.

“I still have my memories so I’m probably fine” You reply with a soft smile. Amusement swims in your eyes at the way he acts, the way he won’t meet your eyes for longer than a second before they travel elsewhere. Randomly staring at a few lockers away.

Hyunjin’s blush colored lips twitch upwards in mimicking smile, a breath of a chuckle escapes him “that’s a relief.” He says, bouncing on the heels of his feet with his hands buried in the front pockets of his school uniform.

Another awkward silence settles between you two, he looks as if he has something more to say but the words won’t come out, you try not to rush him, try to wait for him to just spit out but when it stretches. You clear your throat to capture his wandering eyes, they lock with yours, widening as a nervous pink blush takes its place on his pale cheeks “Well I better head to class.”

“Yeah of course.” He nods. Taking a step to the side to move out of the way and with another faint smile of yours you go on your own way. Once you pass by him the smell of peaches and cream coats the inside of your nose and stays there far longer than you anticipated.

If you count the time, you’re sure it’s exactly sixty seconds and if you’re a little bit off then it won’t be more than eighty seconds before you feel his hand circle your wrist, halting your movement with a rushed out “wait!”

His palm is warm, yet his rings are cold as ice, and they leave you more buzzled when you turn to look at him with inquisitive eyes.

“Your name,” he sounds breathless, and you wonder why “you didn’t tell me your name.” the halls had started to empty, reminding you that you’re late to your first period already. The dying noise brings attention to the sound of your heartbeat in your ears and something else in the distance. If you focus hard enough you swear you could hear the chirping of birds as if they’re signaling the beginning of something you aren’t aware of yet.

If your life was a book this will be the chapter where everything changes and flips upside down, the chapter where you begin to see how large the real world is compared to this small bubble you thought was the world. And all what it’d take is a singular look at Hyunjin’s dark eyes. And if this was somehow a movie it would be the beginning of a fairytale like arc and a soft tune with overflowing lovestruck words would be playing right now. Swirling around and tempting you into a spell that tastes like nothing but pure gold and affection.

But this wasn’t a book nor a movie.

“Y/N” you say “Song Y/N.”

This was a game fate had started and choose you as the main player. The only problem was the rules were never explained and your purpose has yet to be found. Years later when you look back at your meeting you remember how Hyunjin never asked you about the fact that you were crying or the glaringly obvious red mark on your cheek.

You’re thankful.

The next time you see Hyunjin it’s in detention. Given his reputation you shouldn’t be surprised but given your reputation he is more than surprised when he notices you there. His bored and cold stare had transformed into a wide eyed one, eagerness filling his limbs into jumbled tapping of his foot on the floor. Grinding on his teeth as he chewed slowly on his mint flavored gum. Eyes pasted at you, you who was sitting a few seats way from him, you who was too immersed in whatever you were doing on your notebook to spare a glance in his way. Your dark hair falling over the side of your face like a barrier depriving him of stealing glances at your face. It left him withering away in disappointment he didn’t quite understand.

Truth, is you didn’t deserve to be here, well at least partly. Last night you stayed late, working on a brand-new idea you had for a jacket design. You were so focused on it and hadn’t realized the number of hours that had passed by. Once your neck had started aching from your position, fingers sore, you had finally looked at the clock placed next you, you were shocked to see it’s already 3 am. So, when you ended up dozing off the next day and falling asleep in chem class. You did not expect the punishment to be detention. You had argued with your teacher. It was a bad idea because it only resulted in a week worth of detention.

However, now that you’re here you realize it is not that bad. It was quiet, the other students dozing off along with the teacher that was assigned to watch you. It was an opportunity for you to finish your designs. Away from your mother’s nagging and your father’s freezing stare.

You feel it then, something hitting your shoulder to steal your attention from your drawing. You look down at the crumpled piece of paper by your shoes.

Hyunjin gauges your reaction, watches as you elegantly tuck your hair behind your ear. Brows furrowing in confusion as you bend down and pick up the paper. Pulling your pretty lips into an even prettier pout as you open the paper only to find it empty. Only to discern it was an attempt to capture an ounce of your attention. You’re surrounded in softness that has him drowning in jealousy, wishing he was a piece of paper just to be held by you.

He watches as your eyes scan the room, looking for a culprit to blame and then they’re landing on him. Bullseye.

Hyunjin plays his role way too well, leans in his chair with his soccer varsity jacket on. A spread in his legs. Undeterred by the speeding beats of his heart, palms watering in nervous sweat the longer your darling eyes are on him. His own hand raises in a wave, a wink colored in confidence he lacked last time is thrown your way. You feel a wave of shyness wash over you at his unexpected forwardness. Your lips curl into a sheepish smile, a shake of your head as you look away and back down at your notebook.

As if you have given him the green light. Energy surges through his body, overshadowing his nerves and he moves as if your smile has been a magic spell you so willingly put on him. And the empty seat in front of you is taken by him. You smell him before you see him, a whirlwind of emotions swim through you when he’s face to face with you, his back to the sleeping teacher.

“Song Y/N.” he greets with a grin, charm clings to his features and your eyes linger on his mole. Sending familiarity to your mind. Raking through it but finding nowhere to place it.

“Hwang Hyunjin.” You greet back, leaning back in your seat, arms stretching in front of you to cover your notebook.

His eyes flicker to it momentarily before going back to your face. A fresh glint is in there, a pleasant one like he’s happy you remember his name.

“Didn’t expect to see you here.” There’s a pleasant breathy edge to his voice.

“I don’t fit in here?” you ask playfully, tilting your head and he’s almost suffocating on your beauty. Didn’t think it’s possible for someone like you to exist.

“Good girls don’t belong in detention.”

“How do you know I’m a good girl? I might have a wild side to me.” You challenge with a raised brow. With his heart beating wildly in his chest when he reaches forward, his fingers drum on the wood of your table almost brushing against your hand “I’d love to see that.”

You hum, his hand radiating heat that spreads through your body despite the fact that he isn’t touching you “well I expected seeing you here, so I guess that helps with your bad boy image.” You comment.

“Bad boy image?”

“Yeah. Isn’t that why you walk around with a cigarette tucked behind your ear?”

“Oh.” His other hand reaches for the poisonous stick he forgot he placed there “that’s why everyone was glaring at me earlier.”

There’s a short silence that fills the small spaces between your bodies, melting on your skin and in your throat begging you to speak the longer his eyes watch you “what are you here for?” you ask after a while, Hyunjin blinks as if he had forgotten the moment he was in, as if he was lost in you, aa if you were anything deserving to get lost in.

“I got caught smoking in the bathroom.” He says stonily “and you?”

“I got caught sleeping in class,” you reply with a shrug, and he chuckles, amused at how different you two are in the best possible way. It ignites something in him, waters a field he didn’t know was abandoned in his heart.

“What are you writing?” he asks, pointing with his eyes at the notebook you’re still hiding. You hesitate, gnawing on your bottom lip before tentatively removing your hands, allowing him to look. And he does, ever so eager as his eyes study the sketch of your design.

“You did this?” he asks with wide shinning eyes, and you wordlessly nod “Y/N it’s amazing!”

“You really think so?” you ask and Hyunjin’s grin widens in response “yes! You’re so talented holy fuck!” he exclaims in strives to convince you. His tone raising in volume before he slaps his hand to his mouth, eyes wide and he turns around to check if he disturbed the sleep of the teacher. He still snores peacefully.

You break into a fit of giggles, a sound he did not expect to hear and when he turns back to you. Your small hand is covering your mouth. The sight has butterflies roaming through his stomach, violently as if fighting for a way to come out. His own lips stretching into a smile until your laughter dies down, settling into an awkward silence as you avoid his eyes.

“You’re cute, Song Y/N.” he says absentmindedly, as if he didn’t mean for them to run away from his mind to his tongue but he doesn’t flatter, doesn’t take it away and you bask in the way it makes you feel. In the way your face burns as you grip your pencil and resumed the swirls of your hand, running away from his words only for them to hunt you down again.

The rest of detention had passed in a tranquil silence, despite the windows being closed you had felt incredibly warm. It courses through your heart, bumping life into the dull ache that has settled there. The warmth of Hyunjin’s gaze had lingered, it seared on your being even after weeks of not seeing him again.

You don’t see Hyunjin for a long while after that, not until the end of the semester. A week before summer break and during preparation for your school’s summer festival. A yearly event that they held. In the midst of your group making a sign with unmatching colors for your class you had ran out of color, grumbling and complaining they argued on who should go get more “I’ll go get it.” You volunteered, killing their argument successfully and earning thank yous in return.

You strolled along the running track on your way to the main building taking your time as you had grown tired from working all day. It felt like a nice break. Your hand swings back and forth capping and uncapping the sharpie pen you didn’t realize you picked up when you got up. Your eyes linger to your left, watching the soccer practice that is taking place. It wasn’t hard to notice him, the star of the team. The hushed whispers of nearby students remind you that you’re all enamored by the same person.

It is these specific moments that have you grasping the reality of how different you and Hyunjin are. It dawns on you like a cold bucket of water, you didn’t think about it much, didn’t think about him much but it’s like when you see him you can’t stop. Every time you see him you know he will haunt your mind for a few nights after. Perhaps that’s why your steps had come to a stop. Hyunjin had once again managed to filch attention you weren’t willing to give but that was just the kind of person he was. He easily captured the attention of everyone around him, admiring him. That’s the thing with Hyunjin, it was so easy to admire him. And maybe that’s why you had made it a challenge with yourself to be different. To not be a person who waits around the corner just to steal a look at him.

When Hyunjin notices you, eyes widen in gleam and a beam on his face. You don’t think about how fast you fail. And when he waves at you from a distance. A scene so strikingly familiar it has you confused. Your challenge collapses as fast as it comes, lying pathetically by your feet as you wait, just like every other admirer you wait as Hyunjin says something to his teammates. Two of them you recognize because they’re always around him, Lee Felix and Kim Seungmin. You had smiled at them, in attempts to be friendly and kind. It was part of your building reputation after all.

Back then, you were once again proven to be naïve. Constantly pushed into the shadow as destiny liked to fuck with you. You didn’t know it back then, that soon enough Kim Seungmin, the Seungmin you smiled so willingly at would be the same person who’s aiming a blade at you, you didn’t know the amount of pain he’d inflict on you.

Hyunjin is jogging towards you as if he’s afraid you’ll disappear if he isn’t fast enough, his soccer uniform is a tad too big on him. His lithe body leaves space.

“Song Y/N.” he’s out of breath when he’s next to you, sweat rolling down his exposed forehead as he grins at you.

“Hwang Hyunjin.” You greet back as usual.

“I didn’t know you were watching me.” His hand starts wiping away at his sweat, brushing through his hair multiple times as if he’s suddenly feeling self-conscious about his disheveled appearance. It has smile tugging at the corner of your lips “I was just passing by,” you explain lightly, a palpable tension oozes around you the longer he keeps his eyes on you. His stare burns as hot as the sun above.

“Nice ears by the way,” he comments, eyes flickering to the top of your head, and you subconsciously reach for it, your hand touches the fake fur of your cat ears that you had completely forgot you put on. Your face burns in embarrassment while his eyes light up as if witnessing a rare scene.

“My class is doing a cat slash zodiac café thing.” You fumble with your words to explain, your nerves show in the way you go back to capping and uncapping the lid of your pen “sounds like a lot, Y/N.”

“It is.” You answer shortly and he hums into the momentary silence “what’s your zodiac sign?” he suddenly asks and you’re thankful for the change of subject, you show him your wrist, the symbol of your sign your group had drawn for you.

“What’s yours?” you ask, tone curious and gentle. Feels like feathers against his skin as he swallows back nothing “not sure, I was born on the 20th of march.”

“Ah, you’re a Pisces.”

“What does that mean?” he wonders, eyebrows furrowing in thought.

“That you’re a sensitive baby.” You let a playful smile climb to the corners of your lips, lifting over the wall of slight awkwardness that stays around you two. He pauses at the glimpse of it, his own lips quirking upwards, and he rolls his eyes “are we at least compatible?”

“I think we might be the worst match out there.” You reply, giggling faintly. Hyunjin watches you, a garden of flowers blossom in his throat, taking every word he could say back to you. Your softness is prodigious, delicate in ways he wasn’t aware of.

“I have to go.” You say after a while and Hyunjin blinks rapidly, realizes he had done nothing but stare at you like a fool.

“Wait,” his voice is hoarse, his hand that stop you only touch you for a mere minute before he retracts it, it leaves you burning for more “Can I uh-“ he nervously rubs the back of his neck with his hand, eyes lolling everywhere “Can I have your Instagram or something?”

“I don’t really use Instagram.”

“oh.” Hyunjin’s eyes drop in disappointment, so glaringly obvious and you feel like a criminal who had stolen his light. Maybe you felt sorry and maybe that’s why you decided to light a match for him.

“I can give you my number instead.”

Was it then? That your heart had decided to surrender? Or was it when he messaged you for the first time that night with a link to an article, talking about how your signs are in fact compatible.

When was it exactly that you had become a willing victim of his?

On the last night of your summer break you saw Hyunjin again, passing by a skate park in your off white vintage two-piece your mother had picked out for you, your heels leaves a dull ache in your body leaving a trail of disappointment behind you with every step you take, evidence of another failed blind date your mother had set you up on.

“Hwang Hyunjin.” You had spoken first that night and he froze, a cigarette mid-way to his lips as he stared at you in complete awe. As if he couldn’t believe you were real, as if you were a mirage and you were gonna be gone if he blinks. You looked so beautiful to him, you always did. You were the only person capable of making his breath hitch.

“Song Y/N.” he says breathlessly “Wow! You look amazing,” his eyes rake over you appreciatively, you were incredulously pretty. A goddess that threats to steal his remaining sanity.

“Thank you,” you mumble, something akin to relief had spread through your body at the sight of him, you hadn’t realize how rigid you were until your eyes met, melting the tension in the folds of your feature with a single glance of his.

Have you already surrendered?

“Back from a date?” he asks clearing his throat after noticing how hard he was staring at you, he twirls the white stick of poison between his fingers. How lucky, you can’t help but think.

“A blind date,” you specify “it was horrible.” You trail off, eyes fliting to his group of friends behind him before they’re back on him.

You’re not sure of what kind of expression you had on, not sure if Hyunjin had maybe pitied you. If maybe he felt nicer than he’d like and that’s why you ended up sitting next to each other on the beach. He lent you his dark flannel and you used it to cover your bare legs. Your shoulders bump as he splits his sandwich in half and hands you the bigger piece. Your heart was beating wildly, the warmth of his shoulder somehow spreads through your entire being leaving you wondering how could a single person radiate this much warmth?

“It’s kinda spicy,” he says through a bite, acting so naturally and it’s unfair the way he leaves you caught between his dark eyes and his nice gestures.

“I like spicy food,” you retorted taking a bite from your own half, he hums, watches as you chew and doesn’t look away until you’re nodding in satisfaction.

“So, how bad was your date?”

“It had me questioning if I’m even attracted to men. That bad.” Hyunjin chuckles but doesn’t say anything, he looks captivated by you. Watches the way your fingers wipe off the corner of your mouth despite it being clean, the way you tuck your hair behind your ear. The way you hum in delight as you take another bite of your sandwich, the sullen expression you had earlier is nowhere in sight. Was it normal to be this interested in such small mannerism? He felt peculiar.

“Do you think soulmates exist?” You ask after a while of silence, tone soft and content and your food is long gone.

“My answer is a little complicated.”

“Tell me, “You say, turning to look at him as you lay your head on your bent knees. He sees the moon in the flickers of light in your eyes. How exceptional you are, stealing the attention of the great moon. How could he ever not be defeated by you?

“I do think soulmates exist, but I don’t everyone is lucky to meet their own.”

“How come?”

“I just don’t think it’s not realistic for everyone to meet their soulmate. Not everyone can be lucky and happy that’s not how the world works.” He replies with a shrug, mirroring you as he leans his head on his knees. The sound of the waves fills the empty spaces between your words “What about you? Do you believe in soulmates?”

“I don’t,”

“Why?”

“I don’t know I just don’t think they exist. I don’t believe in forever and all that other stuff.”

“You don’t think someone is gonna love you forever someday?” he asks, tone soft and faint. And somehow it feels like there’s no room in your heart anymore for oxygen. It’s all taken by him. And you’re suddenly consumed by him without realizing it. His delicacy waters your heart, it’s in the flannel on your legs, in the scent that had now stuck to your body and it’s in the food you shared. His tenderness was unwonted for you.

Is that why you craved for more? Is that why you wondered if you could just fall?

“The idea of loving someone forever sounds ridiculous.” Hyunjin never said anything back to that, a tranquil hush had fallen over you two. Both of you quietly gaze at each other, entranced by one another. And a foolish little sparkle had formed in the middle of your heart, spreading its light through your being and birthing even more sparkles into your soul.

Was this another a test by destiny you failed or was it possible for him to fall too

Hyunjin had lingered by your doorstep that night, swaying on his feet. The night breeze is cooling as it brushes against you. And his flannel is now around you. His scent mixes with yours, leaving you feeling intoxicated.

“What?” you asked with a hint of a smile. He lets out a shuddering breath, his eyes vulnerable as they stare you down. “I’m just feeling somewhat sad.” he makes no attempt to conceal it.

“Why?” your voice sounded as frail as your swaying feelings.

“I don’t know. I guess I regret spending the entire summer chickening out when everyday could have been like today.” 

Back then you had found his sadness to be indiscreetly foolish . It’s not like you were gonna dissolve into thin air. You had next summer and the one after. You had the upcoming winter and the one after. You had so much time coming or at least that’s what you thought. You wonder if Hyunjin felt it, if he felt your time running out already and just like you, he had desperately tried to clutch onto it. To squeeze himself into every passing second where you coexisted in the same space. 

You didn’t know it then, that your own words would return to you tenth fold. You didn’t know that the words you spoke ever so causally were gonna be your dreading reality. You didn’t know you’d break down to the point where you’d hold on to a sliver line of hope wishing for it to someday bleed into the forever you once said you didn’t believe in. 

You were constantly at the edge of your seat, every time Hyunjin had turned his back to you it left you drowning even more and wondering if tomorrow he’s gonna be there. You had prepared yourself all this time and yet when Hyunjin turned his back to you for the last time. It broke you. 

The sliver of hope had ended up killing you. 

Looking back at it now you think that your sixteenth summer might have been the last moments of your sincerity, the last few moments before change had barged in, breaking your door down and taking place in you to turn you into something you weren’t able to escape. a snake that you pretended to like being in the skin of.

On the morning of your 17th birthday the planets had shifted and just like always you were a pawn in this game fate liked to play. your fairytale like arc had ended. To commingle into something new, an agony that had spreads its roots into your life. Vow to not never leave unless it made a mark on you, unless it sucked the life out of and diluted you to nothing but an immense penumbra.

You were taking a stroll outside on your bicycle, the wind dancing its way in your hair. A cool breeze that draws a smile on your face settling into a peaceful warmth in the center of your chest. You hadn’t anticipated the break of it all. The dull darkness that had replaced every sense of and shape of light you had ever known. It all came in sudden waves, seeing your dad’s car parked three streets away was a surprise that had soon melted into curiosity as you inched closer to look. You didn’t think of why, didn’t think about the consequences. You were naive and that became your downfall when you peeked inside the car and saw your dad with another woman, your dad kissing another woman, your dad’s hand in another woman’s hair. 

That morning you had experienced your first heartbreak, and it was caused by no one other than your own father. 

“Make a wish Y/N.” your mother said, placing the sugar free vanilla cake she had purchased two days ago, and you ended up seeing in fridge in front of you. You didn’t feel happy, not an excited bone in your body. Instead, all you felt was betrayal and rage, melting into liquid to run through your veins. It transmitted through your eyes, sharp as they glared at your father who sat across of you. Sipping on his coffee. 

“Go on.” Your mom urged you with a push to your shoulder. You stared at the candle, your heart catching on fire alongside it. You close your eyes, you draw in a deep, shuddering breath. And you blow on it. Your mother doesn’t clap and neither does your father. He’s scrolling through his phone and your mother takes the cake from in front of you.

 “I’ll give you a piece after dinner.” She says and you wordlessly nod. Fresh pain swims in you the longer you look at him, the longer you notice how indifferent he looked. Was a guilty man supposed to be this relaxed? Did he even care? Just for how long he has been doing this? The questions overwhelm you, leaving you feeling choked.

Your phone’s screen lights up and your eyes flicker to the coming message.

Hyunjin: Meet you at our spot in 5? I have something I wanna give you.

“I’m going out for a bit,” you announce, standing up from your seat with one last glare sent your father’s way.

“What? Dinner’s almost ready. Where are you going?” your mother scolded, followed you as you were putting on your shoes “I’m seeing Hyunjin for a bit.” You explained frigidly, not letting her huff of annoyance affect you.

“Again? All you do is spend time with that Hwang kid! I told you a million times he isn’t good-“you close the door shut with a slam.

Once you see Hyunjin standing on the beach, his back to you as he stared at the sea immersed in the crashing waves, you felt the same waves crash against the walls of your heart. Washing it into a tempest of blues that you didn’t even know you were capable of feeling.  It wraps around your ankles and drags you down, threatening to make you one with the sand. Taking wobbly steps to him, you wish it would happen.

“Hyunjin.” You call once you’re close, once you’re in an appropriate distance for your heart not to jump and attack his. He turns around and your heart is weaker than you hope for. Jumping out of your grasp and into him.

Please give it back.

“Y/N!” his voice is airy, light enough to blend in with your blood, light enough to have you wishing he was running through your veins.

“Hey.” You breath in faux cheerfulness, a smile that doesn’t reach your eyes but he doesn’t get to dwell on it because with three quick steps he’s in your presence, destroying your safe distance as he pulls you into him with a hug, arms around your waist. His scent invades your space and your fingers desperately clutch the fabric of his white shirt, tears brimming in your waterline.

When he pulls back, his cold hands are cupping your cheeks. It has goosebumps and tingles littering along your spine. “what’s wrong?” he asks gently, his concerned eyes search your own. Letting loose, your tears fall like a waterfall that can’t be stopped “I’m just overwhelmed.” You chuckle, humorlessly.

“About what?”

“I’m getting old,” you sniffle and Hyunjin is smiling, a comfort he doesn’t know he can provide “you’re an idiot Y/N.” he shakes his head at you, and you agree.

“Well hopefully this will cheer you up.” He tells you, eyes glinting with happiness you wish to never leave him, you wish for him to always shine this brightly and maybe that’s why you didn’t tell him back then, the burden you carried felt too heavy for his softening gaze. You watch as he reaches in his pocket, he gauges your reactions as he pulls out a silver chain, a bracelet. Eyes dancing with overflowing emotions as he clasps it around your wrist.

You look at it only to realize that the letter ‘H’ dangles at the end of it, he raises his own wrist to show you a matching chain around his, your initial dangles from it “We’re matching.” He tells you with a grin and just like that Hyunjin had once again managed to pick the broken pieces of your heart and glue it together with emotions you shouldn’t feel.

You bury your face in your hands, overwhelmed and stolen away again by his charm. He had pulled you from the sinking sand under your feet and into his embrace instead. Wrapping you into the delicacy you run away from only to end up drowned in.

The day you turned seventeen your serial mendacious had began with two lies, the first was a witless venture to protect your family. You thought if you kept quiet then you could save them maybe someday, you’ll be able to mend them back together. It was an idiotic idea.

The second lie didn’t matter because you were certain Hyunjin would never feel the same way about you. It was an idiotic idea to explore as well. How could the sun possibly be attached to a dying speck of light?

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[twoidiotwriters1]

Chapter 30. Peach Blossoms

Summary: Benedict can't help the flustered, almost schoolboy manner in which he reacts. Masterlist Previous Chapter // Next Chapter Words: 2,330 Listen to: 'Staring' -by Tipling Rock A/N: Bitches can't be left alone for two seconds i swear -Danny

Last night, Genovians were surprised by the arrival of two foreigners from the rainy lands of Britain at our masquerade ball. 

Benedict and Eloise Bridgerton, brother and sister of British noble blood and close friends with the Princesses (so much so that Mr Bridgerton was Princess Y/N's arts tutor during her season abroad), are to stay with the royal family, leaving us to wonder, is a union between nations happening soon? 

-Elsie Penworthy for the Genovian Daily Gazette, June 1816

Benedict is glad a servant came to find them, otherwise, they would've gotten lost in the hallways until noon. His sister immediately rushes into the room to sit next to Marie and serves herself a generous meal. She doesn't seem to care if her manners are lacking, but that's alright, because the rest of the people around the table are messier than she could ever be.

The twins are seated at the far end, books spread about their plates and drinks, notes and ink scattered on the table as they distractedly shovel food into their mouths. Their clothes are dishevelled as much as their light-brown hair, their hazel eyes are bleary, showing signs of discomfort caused by the drinks from the night prior.

Marie and Eloise gossip about the geniuses in attendance at the ball, no doubt judging overheard comments or costume choices, and next to them, Y/N is listening with a sleepy smile. Benedict is almost sure that she, like him, couldn't rest until hours after going to bed, the incoming avalanche of problems making a mess of their minds.

The parents are nowhere to be seen, and as the group greets him with different levels of enthusiasm, he blurts out the question: "Are the queen and king not joining us?"

"They were up and about earlier than us," you gesture at the chair in front of you, inviting him to sit. "Such is the life of the crown."

"You don't see them much, then?"

"We see them at dinner every day," Marie responds. "Y/N sees them more now that she's started her practicum with Mother."

"Have you started preparations?" A proud smile forms on Benedict's face. "And how are you finding it?"

"Quite rewarding," you admit in a satisfied tone. "I could almost dare to claim I'm a natural."

"You are a natural," Rowan says from the far end of the table. "Born for it and everything, providence granted you the skill to overcome the challenge."

You blush, burying your face behind a glass of juice. "Nonsense."

"I agree entirely with your brother," Benedict says sweetly, wanting to gift you praises for as long as he's still around to give them. After that, he turns to the twins. "Why are you so far away?"

"Mother forbade them to sit near us when they bring their research—sometimes they set small explosions."

"Except during dinner," Richard smiles innocently. "Last time we compromised a perfectly cooked turkey. It broke our hearts."

"Are you joining us later, brother?" Eloise asks, moving past the information as if she's already gotten used to the twins' peculiarities. "We're going to the lake."

"Am I invited?" He asks, pulling a plate to serve himself breakfast. "If you're including me out of pity, I beg you not. I'll be perfectly content exploring the castle—that is, if I'm allowed." He adds promptly, not wanting to sound like he's taking liberties in your home.

"You certainly are, but the plan wasn't just for us ladies," you reply amicably. "I was going to take Reaper for a ride; he gets stressed after the parade, and I like to race about to release the tension."

"Reaper?" Benedict grins. "Your black horse's name is Reaper?"

"Grim Reaper. She is quite the comedian," Marie comments, pulling a bowl of cream closer.

"You could join me," you continue unbothered. "I had intended to ask you in London, but time slipped by and I never got the chance."

Benedict can't help the flustered, almost schoolboy manner in which he reacts. He lets out a pleased little laugh, lowers his gaze, and scratches behind his ear. "Would I have to handle Reaper?"

"Sadly, my horse doesn't take kindly to other people handling him. You wish to ride on the back and hold my waist?" You reply jokingly, expecting him to deny any wishes to get nearer than is proper. 

Instead, his eyes narrow with a hint of challenge, and he responds in a carefree voice as he reaches for a glass. "I wouldn't mind it. You're a fine rider, after all."

You choke in response. Marie and the twins share a bemused glance before pretending not to be listening to the conversation. "P-Pardon?"

"I've seen you ride a horse plenty of times, I know you're good at it," he clarifies with a teasing glint in his eyes.

"Yes, of course," you clear your throat, fighting off lewd memories.

Once at the lake, Benedict sits on a blanket and sketches while the girls splash around the shore, chasing each other and laughing in quite an unladylike manner. Peach blossoms around the lake give the scene an ethereal air, a sight that reminds him of home. The thought makes him stop drawing and begin writing a letter to his mother back in England.

Dear Mother—and Anthony, if he's there,

Eloise and I have reconnected with the princesses, and we are now enjoying the incredible privilege of spending the summer at their castle. My sister is beyond herself with the seemingly endless amenities, and she's made friends with several people, not just the royal family, though the princes seem quite fond of her—and before any of you get any ideas, I assure you it is all platonic. The twins are married to their branches of study and have little time to concern themselves with matters of the heart.

Speaking of... I know neither of you will like it, but it is quite noticeable that Eloise has fallen in love with this land and is probably not going to give it up easily, if ever. If I may speak on her behalf, I have hardly seen more accomplished women in any other place than here, and happier, too.

She would be safe and accompanied—the princes and Princess Marie are students at the College and will continue to be for at least another four and two years respectively—and I know my sister would not waste her time if allowed to explore beyond the restraints of our society's limitations.

Women rule the most powerful countries in our world—is it really that impossible to believe that our El might be a genius in the making? I have chosen to believe in her; I hope you do too. 

Hugs and kisses,

Benedict.

After two hours of sketching together and dipping your toes in the water, you take Benedict to the stables to familiarise with Reaper. The imposing stallion huffs and puffs when the man approaches, and you find it amusing how such a large man recoils at the sight of a horse you treat like a baby.

"He's testing you, but he won't hurt you. Right, Reaper?" You speak to the horse in a sweet voice.

"How did you end up riding this creature?" Benedict asks in a mix of awe and trepidation. "You're the size of his neck!"

"That is an exaggeration," you state patiently, "Reaper was born from my mother's horse, Baby."

"The one she was riding during the parade?"

"The very same," you smile, "she's had her since she was sixteen or so."

"And I suppose it's the same with you and er, Reaper?" He continues, keeping his distance.

"I got him when I turned ten," you explain, feeding him sugar cubes. "He's very loving and playful, but gets fussy when someone else tries to ride him. One time, Arthur tried to take the reins, you know, doing the gentlemanly thing, and Reaper almost killed him."

"Right," he says, looking at the horse hesitantly. "Well, is he willing to let me sit on the back?"

"You'll have to ask him," you say teasingly, stretching out a hand. "Come closer."

Benedict obeys, feeling safer with you than if he were to deal with the creature by himself. You steer him closer while petting the horse's mane, maintaining eye contact with Benedict as you do. When you guide his hand to the animal's muzzle, it feels strangely intimate. He dares to run one hand over Reaper, and the way you look at him as he leans in to kiss the horse and praise him makes the initial apprehension vanish entirely. 

Benedict feels ten times taller now, manlier even, which feels odd coming from an action so tender. You get on your horse, holding the reins steady while Benedict pulls himself up against you, confidently wrapping his arms around your waist. "Ready?"

Benedict smiles, squeezing you affectionately. "Never."

"Tell me," you begin while setting a good pace for Reaper, "how's Britain?"

"Less cloudy since you left���yet somehow less colourful for the same reason."

"Flatterer." You're glad that he can see your face. "And your family?"

"Colin and Penelope have received their firstborn. Francesca and John are somewhere in Scotland, being utterly happy in silence, I imagine."

"Do you miss them?"

"Interesting question," he tilts his head. "I'm accustomed, I guess, to seeing my siblings married off."

"But it hasn't been that long since they started to leave! Your sister Daphne got married... what was it, three years ago?"

"Was it really?" He narrows his eyes in thought. "Funny. Feels like she's always been married to Simon."

"When I was little, thinking about my siblings getting married used to make me cry."

"And now?"

"Now I think they'll never marry," you laugh. "Rowan and Richard love science and dedicate all their time to it. I hope it makes them happy forever, if that's what they've chosen. Marie... well, she cannot make up her mind, she's had plenty of beaus, and has all the freedom in the world to pick whoever she desires, but I believe that—"

"That same freedom is keeping her undecisive?" Benedict finishes with a grin. "I've heard that before."

"It feels like I'll have them forever."

"I wouldn't be so sure," Benedict hums. "Three years ago, I was 27 and felt like it would take ages before anyone decided to leave the nest. Now, three of my younger siblings are married, my oldest brother has a child, and Eloise... well, she's not going to stay after this summer. A lot can happen when you least expect it."

"Well, one thing is certain," you sigh, "no matter what, everyone always ends where they're meant to be."

"Eloise's departure might sting more than I'm willing to admit, though," he reveals bashfully, chuckling weakly. "She's the only one in my family who understands what it's like to be... different."

You hum, carefully moving through the subject. "Does she know about... You know, your preferences?"

"God, no! And she does not need to. That's private."

"I know my sister's previous partners," you shrug. "We don't share everything in explicit detail, but we like talking about it. It's liberating."

"I can talk to my brothers about the women I've been with, but it's a whole different thing to speak about the men. I don't want them to see me differently."

"Do you think they'll react negatively?"

"Yes," he shakes his head, keeping one arm around your waist while his free hand rubs his thigh. "No. I... I don't know. I want to believe they would love me no matter what."

Benedict leans back when you look over your shoulder briefly to face him. "I think they do love you like that, Ben. What we like or don't like doesn't make us. What we are is what we do."

"In that case, they don't have much to love," he says in a self-deprecating manner.

"I disagree." You make your horse advance more into the thick forest area. "Eloise told me your career has been rather prolific in the last six months."

"Is that all I am, then? My career?" He slides off the horse as soon as you reach your arranged destination.

You raise a brow, following him with your gaze. "Is there something else you'd like to be?"

"I'd like to be left alone," he says defensively.

You tense. "I apologise."

Benedict makes a face and turns to look at you. "I do not mean... I've had this conversation many times before with fellow artists and..."

"And?" You dismount Reaper.

Benedict watches your graceful landing with utter focus before responding. "And it goes nowhere. Half of them see art as a hobby, something to waste their time in, to pay for their vices... The ones that share my opinion are all about ambition and merit... But I just want it to mean something. Art is the haven to a very fragile part of my soul."

You tie Reaper's reins to a tree, smiling as you do. "I'm glad to hear you haven't turned your back on your haven since I left, then. Does it make you truly happy?"

Benedict laughs. "I suffer greatly, which is almost the same."

"You sound passionate indeed." You remove your gloves and put them in the saddlebag. "Which can be painfully blissful. Or is it blissfully painful? Either way, it comes with being a true artist, I think."

"It comes with being in love," he says earnestly. "I suppose I am happy. I'm thinking of trying abstract techniques for my future pieces. You seemed to think my dove was quite the artwork."

"You'll have something new to teach me, then," you smile, moving closer.

"Teach you?" Benedict raises a brow, highly aware of each of your movements. "Am I still your tutor?"

"I don't remember dismissing you. Do you?"

"Not quite," he hums, eyes flickering to your mouth. "But I don't remember agreeing to be your guest of honour either, so memory is failing me lately." He fixes his gaze on yours, a small, teasing smile on his face. "In any case, one can't teach the abstract, it is as your imagination makes it."

"Benedict Bridgerton," you stand right in front of him, "it sounds like a style made for you."

"And you."

"Not in the least. But being around you feels that way sometimes." You soften your voice on purpose. "If our former agreement is afoot, would you kiss me right this moment?"

"I live to serve," he mumbles, cupping your face and closing the distance.

Next Chapter –>

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[leo-interactive-fiction]

Happy (belated) fifth anniversary for Triaina Academy, Leo! I hope that you got to at least do a small celebration for five years of work sometime in June. In the spirit of Triaina being five, I wanted to ask you about the old demo, actually; is there a scene you left / are going to leave on the cutting room floor that you miss? Are there other plot points from it that you really liked? I'm curious about how you feel about it after so long. Regardless, I hope this finds you well!

Hey there! Damn, it really doesn't feel like it's been five years since I've began undertaking this project haha. The very first showing of Triaina Academy was in june, and was fairly sizable for its first posting, hovering around 70k-ish words leading up to the middle of the 2nd chapter and having introductions for everyone except S and F. During then, I had far more free time available to me, and worked on that version of the demo until it grew to around 250-300k words spanning nearly 5 chapters.

But I realized as I had progressed through writing that the quality of my early chapter writing wasn't consistent with the current standards I wanted to have now, and so much of that wordcount was scrapped, with only the skeletonized outline remaining of the old work. I returned to square one and rewrote the story in its entirety from the beginning, leading to the current state now, with the revised version hitting close to 220k words. In the back of my head I consider that, had I just continued writing without a revision, Triaina Academy would already be a finished product.

In many ways I regret that despite it being five years, it feels like there is nothing much for me to show for it. Even more so now that my work pushes me between mental stress and physical exhaustion, often giving me little time or motivation to pull up the writing on my computer. But I love what I've created. I love the joys it brings me as a creative, as well as hearing the joy it brings you all to read. So even if it seems like I fall away, I am still pressing on to continue, even if it's a tiny bit at a time, until it becomes something both I and readers can find joy in.

Now, speaking of the old demo, there's many scenes that have become nonexistent. I liked quite a few of them, and there are probably many overarching ideas that will return in different forms within the new context of the current demo. But there are also many that won't.

A few mentions of old scenes that probably won't be making a return, either because they've been replaced or they are no longer relevant:

During the very first date with raven, although the makeshift "home" returned, there was an additional scene where the MC discovers mutilated bodies in a closet space.

Before the festival scene seen in the demo now, the working equivalent of it in the old demo was an underground party held by students of the academy in an abandoned airport. The idea of this was cut out because within the story, I decided the world wasn't in a current state for airspace travel save for very specific exceptions. But during this scene, the party is interrupted by a body being discovered hanging from the overhead walkways of a hangar, paired with a bloody message.

There was a scene where you could order and allow V to shoot and kill a student. Originally I had thought to make this into a fail state where the MC and V were thrown in jail for a game over, but upon the revision this was taken out entirely, as I decided against abrupt, early endings.

Infamously, E was originally written as a step-sibling character in the old demo. I had thought on testing and developing the dynamic, since I didn't see very many games do it, and my game was pretty heavily inspired by various anime and manga related tropes and character styles. But eventually, I decided to shift them into a childhood friend/next door neighbor romance without adjusting their personality because I put a lot of effort into developing the entirety of their story arch, and I wanted them to appeal to a more general audience. Funnily enough, they are still labeled as their old role within the code, just because it has become too much work to change all of the variables haha

F's personal assistant, Fiore, didn't actually exist within the old demo. At least not in the same capacity. She was added because I realized F's personality didn't work well as an independent romantic driver, and they needed an additional external factor to push F into more romantic situations. Fiore RO DLC is an additional purchase of $9999.

In the old demo, MC's, and to a lesser extent everyone else's parents, played far less of an apparent role. I wanted to develop a story showing the previous generation compared to the current one, as in some ways there is a "passing of the torch" theme throughout the plot.

S and F were introduced far later in the old demo, to the point every other RO was given a full extra date scene before they joined the picture. One goal of my revision was being able to give these two an earlier introduction so they could all have their own date scene. In the old demo they were introduced in a scene where P and the MC had to switch rooms, allowing the MC to meet the last two members of Dorm Exul, as well as I think letting them read P's diary.

You used to be able to choose both M and P's gender independently, but with them becoming more structured as identical twins, M will always be the same gender you pick for P.

R used to be far more of a directly flirtatious character like M, but has since naturally shifted to the laid-back, bantering character they are now as I've continued writing them.

Similarly, V was written in a far more robotic tone with only short one-to-three-word responses, and although they are still fairly terse and unemotional, they've developed over time to have far more spoken dialogue and hints of emotional cracks.

There used to be a fail scene in M's romance if you refused to hit them the first time. Much like the other fail state, this was taken out and the decision between leaning into their masochistic tendencies or not became part of their path selection.

Many of the side characters within the story were not introduced, and so neither were their stories. Lewis and S's hostile relationship was not developed, Rex and Acer only had passing remarks, Treyla, Juno, Uno, and others who were nonexistent to the plot now hold some relevance to specific MC specializations, and instructors other than Rosaline and Hoft were given names and a larger part as progressors of MC specializations.

As far as the most favorite scene that I'll miss leaving on the cutting room for, hmm. It is most likely the school tournament arc that I had planned in the old demo. It was in the works and quite far in development at the time that I realized my writing had taken far steps away from the book's early development, both in quality and creative direction. The tournament was supposed to be a method to more actively showcase the combat capabilities of each character's powers, with several rounds and fight scenes already written. But within this new revised plot, I plan for the S.T.E.M. abilities to develop far slower and gradually with trackable leaps in power, not yet becoming combat capable at the time this tournament arc would've occurred. Still, the scene and idea I had in my head, and what I had already written, was quite fun! Although I probably won't be able to figure out a way for this exact scenario to happen now, eventually I would love to bring back the idea of a tournament, or arena type of setting, at some point in the story haha.

Thank you for listening to my ramblings. I didn't think the response would get this long haha. Triaina Academy has recieved so much more positive reception and love than I could have ever imagined when I first began working on it. In all honesty, I had figured that maybe I would be writing for a handful or so to see and think it was neat, and I'd be plucking away at it from time to time with no real thought to its success in mind. But it has instead risen to a stage far larger than I thought it could perform on, almost dauntingly so as I fear for disappointing so many, both with its quality, and the fact I can't dedicate as much into its development as people hope and ask for. Even still, I hope you can forgive me for not being able to rise to expectations, especially in regard to the pace of development, or the length of silence revolving it. The one thing I can promise, is that I still love this creation of mine, and all of you who have seen and may continue to see it flourish, and I do not plan to end its development unless I die a very painful, early death.

Thank you very much!

[khaoala]

i don't know why it feels like it's coming to an end... lately, it just feels different. I might be overthinking, or maybe the girlfriend allegations and the way they are not getting any work really got me, not that I ever thought they were a couple.

you're overthinking it.

first and khaotung will be out of the country for the whole month of july bc they are going on the thk tour, they have cat for cash scheduled as their next series, besides the other side jobs like in stgd and mmp. fk are not the only ones without schedules either. i've seen a lot of earthmix and joongdunk fans complaining about the lack of work for all three couples. we're already past the 4 gfs allegations, too, so let's move on from that. besides, with how gmm is working nowadays, the only way we will ever see the end of fk as couple is if they chose to split up (see the ohmleng situation), and if that happens, we can't do anything about that (though i doubt they will. first worked too hard to let it happen).

the company just went through a major change of work programming since none of them have specified managers anymore as far as we can tell, so it takes time to adjust. even though i think they are sloppy (see how they failed to post about the june 8th event today), this isn't a sign of the end. take a deep breath, drink a lot of water, go outside and feel the sun. don't stress about it.