#The Summer Romance Bloomed From A Lie

[lgbtpopcult]

2023 Best WLW Video Games

Baldur’s Gate 3

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Fae Farm

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Love's Crescendo

En Garde!

Tales Of Aravorn: An Elven Marriage

R is for Rachel

Storyteller

Sushi for Empress Setsuko

Little Goody Two Shoes

~The Summer Romance Bloomed From A Lie~

[passivenovember]

Happy Valentines Day!

Dedicated to my babies over in the smut cave. Thanks for making everyday so saturated in horniness that I can’t feel anything but love. You’re the best.

And to @cherrydreamer , who is so good I’m pretty sure God could learn a thing or two.

--

Steve’s not his boyfriend. Billy ties honesty around each wrist to keep himself in place whenever things start to feel a little too much like a roll of party balloons.

And they always do, with Steve. Because Steve’s an idiot.

He’s full of shining romance. He parks the Beemer outside Billy’s house every morning before school even though Billy’s got a car because Steve hopes, against all hope, that Billy will roll over and be his girlfriend.

That he’ll let Steve hold his hand and carry his books and allow Steve to drive them to school. Billy and Max, fighting over the radio station and tracking mud onto the floors while Steve grins like a moron.

Harrington has a death wish disguised as chivalry.

Because even though Billy aims to chew his head off and Neil would probably bury them both alive if he ever caught on, Steve climbs through bedroom windows and tucks notes onto mattress pillows and in between the slots of lockers because he’s got flowers growing out his ass.

Love’s gonna win out, for him.

Billy doesn’t get it. 

The hope. The peppery, love-sick gestures. He could pick them by the handful, each colored for a different moronic display of Steve’s lingering affection. 

And it’s not that Billy hates flowers, it’s just. 

It’s spring. 

It’s the promise of the days getting longer and air gusting warmer and the hope that even though he’s still living like a stoned crab under the ever-present weight of his father, Billy could relax into Steve’s attention and summer will drape itself over the land. 

If he just gave in, July would burn hot on his shoulder blades.

–

Billy doesn’t give in. 

He can’t.

He could lie and say it’s all part of some rude awakening. He’ll take Steve’s dick up his ass, down his throat, blooming like cactus blossoms between both hands, but he doesn’t love him.

But, turns out, as January melts into six more weeks of winter and Heather’s warning that this thing between Billy and Steve’ll vanish as soon as the ground starts to thaw, Steve gets restless.

Billy can’t blame him. Knows they’ve both got a lesbian ear-worm chewing their confidence to shit. 

Heather urges Billy to stop being such a piranha and Robin tells Steve he’s gonna get his heart smashed and tossed like a new penny into the ocean. Lost. Forgotten on its descent to the bottom of the hapless sea. 

And to be honest, no one’s ever been able to guess why Steve chose this. Billy, in all his pathetic glory. 

But he did. He picked Billy like a thorn from his side.

And they hammer themselves into something like the mockery of a relationship because that’s what people do. They fuck. They smoke pot and dry hump and fuck again, each chewing on the idea that maybe this won’t last. 

Billy’s good at ignoring it and Heather and himself until the weekend before Valentines Day. 

Steve pulls out of him. Rolls onto his back and says, “You never gaze at me,” even though his spunk is cooling the sheets under Billy’s naked thighs.

Billy shifts on the pillow, blowing smoke at the ceiling so it won’t end up in Steve’s eyes.

Steve won’t look at him.

He’s got the sheets tucked up around his chest, arms crossed over their slick face like he’s ashamed of himself, maybe, for the first time ever. Regretful of Billy. Of this thing between them.

Billy frowns. “I don’t do what?”

“You don’t gaze at me,” Steve tells him, Adam’s Apple bobbing like he needs a cool drink. “Y’know. Like when you see a pretty girl–”

“Don’t like girls, remember?”

“Okay, then,” Steve rolls onto his side, propping himself seriously on one elbow. “Say it’s a cute guy. Handsome.”

“Alright.”

“When you see a handsome guy, you know? In a nice car, do you ever–”

“Is it a fast car?”

Steve blinks. “Does it matter?”

“‘Course it does,” Billy sucks on his smoke again, teasing, “Fast car’s a sign of taste. And to be able to afford that kinda car you’ve gotta have money. And in my experience, any guy with money’s got a cock on him.”

“Every guy’s got a cock.”

“Yeah, but not every cock’s a good one,” Billy winks, “Ain’t that right, Rolls Royce?”

Steve turns red, all the way down his chest. Billy has the familiar urge to pin him to the mattress and lick at his nipples, see if they taste like strawberry jam when he blushes like that.

But Steve’s eyebrows are threaded together. Serious, when he says, “You’re saying the only thing that’d trap you in a gaze is a nice car?”

Billy shrugs. “I don’t gaze.”

“I’ve noticed.”

“I could, though,” Billy looks over at him, guilty for the thrill that rolls through him at the sight of Steve, naked and pissed off. “If we’re talking about a fast car, and a rich guy, and a nice cock–”

“Forget it,” Steve snaps, sitting until the sheets pool around his waist. “Forget I said anything, alright?” Harrington jostles the bed, swinging his legs over one side. He reaches for his pants, tugging them on so roughly Billy’s worried he’ll give himself rug burn. 

Billy puffs on his cigarette. “Where you going, pretty boy?”

“Gotta piss.”

“You’re putting clothes on for that?”

Steve drops his pants as if they’ve caught fire. “Maybe I’ll leave.”

Billy snorts. “You live here.”

“Well, I’m not gonna kick you out,” Steve snaps. Annoyed. He’s never been this irritated with Billy before. So pressed he won’t even look at him.

Steve always looks at him. 

Gazes. 

It’s not a great feeling.

Billy props himself against the headboard, trying to backtrack whatever landmine he ate shit over. Steve’s seething on the edge of the mattress, so far away he might as well be in Asia. So close Billy can map the constellations between his shoulder blades. “Come here,” Billy says softly.

Steve shakes his head. 

“Steve.”

“You’re such an asshole sometimes.”

“I know,” Billy pinches the butt between his teeth. “Come here anyway.”

One moment yawns into the next and then Steve’s toes follow each other back onto the mattress. He tucks under the sheets, eyes tacked to the ceiling. 

“What,” Steve says. Taught and fragile. Bitchy.

Billy chokes on a swell of something. Swallows it down. “You don’t wanna cuddle?” He asks, exactly how Steve always does. Batting his eyelashes where he knows Harrington can see. 

But Steve won’t budge. He crosses his arms. “Tell me what you want and I’ll consider it.”

And Billy. 

He’s a pro at flipping the script. At hiding in plain sight. He’s been pretending to want this and nothing more if it means he’ll get Steve. A couple nights a week fucking in a bed he never sleeps in, watching every flash of desperate pleasure on Harrington’s face because there’s no chance he’ll run into the weight of anything when he’s caught in orgasm land. 

Billy doesn’t say the only time he feels good is when Steve comes. Doesn’t own up to the way it gets him through the swell of night, the memory of being so close to someone who’s good because it’s his nature. 

Steve never has to try. He’s perfect.

And Billy isn’t ready to admit anything. That he recognizes it. Feels Steve’s brilliance like a twisting knife in the back; Tell me what you want–

Billy clears his throat. “Do you want me to leave?”

The possibility makes him nauseous. Steve takes the cigarette that’s handed to him, perfect plush lips closing around the butt of the thing.

“Tell me, baby. I’ll go right now. You’ll never have to see me again–”

“God, you’re a dumbass, too, you know that?” Steve hands the cigarette over, jaw tense. “If I wanted you gone I would’ve kicked you out forever ago.”

“You. You mean tonight, or–”

“Yeah,” Steve tells him softly. “Months before that. Before I fell in love with you.”

Billy chews on their cigarette and watches Steve in between puffs. The way his lashes flutter when he’s trying not to give the side eye. 

Billy feels haunted. By everything. His future. The way Steve’s so free with his words and his truth, tossing them at Billy like red roses and rotting tomatoes. Steve says he loves him, and Billy’s heard it before. Steve’s sentiment gets lost in the roiling anger that makes Billy who he is. 

But tonight, it’s silenced.

Steve’s I love you’s have that effect on him. Cutting all the noise from the sky as his attention drapes over Billy like the lid of a coffin. Like sunlight, too. 

Daylight.

Billy turns to face him, his wrist cracking under the weight of his head. “Do you want me to gaze at you more?” He asks.  

Steve chews on a mouthful of smoke and then blows it at the ceiling until it looks like a cloud.

A bunny or an anvil. Something.

“I could,” Billy says. “You’ve got everything that grabs my attention, you know?”

“What? Money and cars and–”

“Yeah, but. It’s not only that shit, I was. I was kidding.”

Steve blinks. “You were kidding?”

“Mostly.”

“Mostly,” Steve says, as if tasting the caramel drop word on his tongue. He shifts on the mattress, glancing over and away again. Teasing. “Alright. What else about me grabs your attention?”

“You’re really gonna make me spell it out for you? Itemized list style?”

Steve’s demeanor falls flat again. A punctured balloon trickling from the sky. “Never mind,” He says, “Forget it. You obviously don’t feel the same about me as I do about you–”

“You make me laugh, okay?” Billy spits. 

He swallows thickly. Fiddles with the lip of the sheets. His words burn like acid. He’s cut to the bone. 

“I like the way you drum on your knee when there’s a song you dig. You have passions. You read, but you’re not very good at it. You help me study even though you mispronounce everything. You’re kind.”

And suddenly, Steve’s looking at him. Through him, too, past every swirling atom, toggling layers of bullshit and titanium walls meant to keep everyone out.

But under the cosmic starfall of Steve’s gaze and his attention and his love–

Billy’s walls never stood a chance.

“I like you,” Billy grits. 

There. 

He said it. He told the truth and now Harrington can out a lid on those eyes and stop looking at Billy like he ran over the family dog–

“You mean it?” Steve asks.

As if Billy’s saying something else. Like he’s admitting to a crime, or accepting a ticket to go anywhere in the universe.

Billy frowns, not understanding. “I guess so.”

Steve watches him for another endless, yawning moment. “Prove it.” He says, and finishes the cigarette.

–

It’s kind of how Max was, in that weird space between Billy’s first I’m Sorry and where they are now. 

Billy had to work for it because Billy has to work for everything. It’s like purgatory. Paying out of pocket for all the shit he’s done wrong in his life. 

Steve says, “prove it,” and Billy doesn’t really believe him at first. 

They aren’t together. Billy isn’t his fucking girlfriend, and Steve’s old enough that he’s supposed to have stopped wishing for grand gestures. 

Doesn’t he know that shit isn’t real? That husbands get their wives flowers because they got caught fucking their secretaries, and boyfriends only tuck fuzzy animals into their girlfriends arms to apologize for getting drunk and covering her in bruises?

But the more Billy turns it over in his hands, the more he realizes he should’ve seen this coming.

Steve’s got a pension for anything sappy and romantic. 

He goes hog wild for John Huges and sets money aside for February 15th, when all the Valentine’s candy is on sale. He sings the Ronettes at the top of his lungs when Billy’s pissed off, wiggling his hips and begging Billy to be his little baby. 

Steve pretends not to trace love hearts on storefront windows. He ignores thoughts of dinner reservations and avoids all conversation of expensive springtime bouquets until someone asks his opinion, and suddenly Steve’s a florist. 

Last year he even helped Max and her Nerdy friends plan a romantic double date night, complaining all the while even though he made Billy hide with him in the back room so they could spy–

And.

It hits Billy like a freight train.

“No,” Billy tells himself. He shakes his head, curls catching obnoxiously on the pillow beneath him. “No way–”

He’s not asking the Nerd Squad for help/

He’d never hear the end of it. They’d roast him alive and it would cost him every cent in his California fund. Curly top would accuse him, all over again, of not being suave or good or smart enough for someone like Steve, and the rest would co-sign without ever saying a word, and–

No.

Billy isn’t going to put himself through that type of ego-death all for a pair of legs, and that’s final.

But just as he starts to doze off, dreams lapping at his toes like warm ocean water, Billy settles with the fact that he has no other choice.

It’s his ego or Steve, and if Billy doesn’t play this right he’ll never love again.

–

“He says you never gaze at him?”

Billy digs his nails into his palm. “That’s what I said.”

“Steve’s kind of confusing.”

“You’re telling me.”

“I mean, it’s so weird,” Max’s shoes thump against the base of the couch, filling their empty house on Cherry lane with music. “You throw plenty of gaze at him.”

“I know, right?”

“You are gay-ze,” Max teases.

And if Billy were any less desperate, he might stick a wet thumb in her ear for that one. But he’s on his last leg. He’s tearing his curls out by the root. He’s climbing the walls, he’s–

Max frowns. “Tough crowd.”

“It was funny,” Billy tries, smile stiff and unnatural. “I was gonna laugh, but–”

“But you’re worried if you don’t do something grand and rom-com perfect Steve’ll dump you.”

Billy glares at her. “There’s nothing to dump. We aren’t dating.”

“Sure,” Max says slyly. 

She’s such a little shit. She’s the worst.

Billy bites against the urge to bully her. To pinch her arm and revert back to his old self to get what he wants out of the situation.

Max shrugs her knobby little shoulders and admits, “Steve’s not that hard to romance.”

Billy drops the act entirely. “How the fuck would you know that?”

“When he helped Lucas and Mike plan our double-date last year he gave this obnoxious speech about how girls pretend like we want diamonds and flashy declarations, but really it’s the thought that counts.”

But. “Steve’s not a girl,” Billy thunks his head on the back of the couch, exhausted.

This is bullshit.

This is so difficult–

“It’s not like you could afford to do anything obnoxious even if you wanted to,” Max tells him. 

And Billy gets that it’s meant to be reassuring.

Steve was born with a silver spoon in his mouth. Anything he wants he can get for himself, including expensive bouquets and five-star dinners. Hell, he could get himself off, too. Doesn’t need Billy for anything. Not really. 

But that’s half the trouble.

If Billy can’t live up to the Valentine's Steve can plan for himself, he doesn’t know why he’s trying. 

Why he’s losing sleep, sick to his stomach over the thought that this might be it.

“Stop spiraling,” Max sits on the coffee table in front of him, knocking their toes together until Billy pins her with a heat-less glare. “When you imagine a perfect day with Steve–”

“I’m not talking about this with you.”

“Why? Max demands, “Because it involves a lot of open mouthed kisses?”

“Just tell me what you think he would like.”

“A handjob, probably.”

Billy sits ramrod straight. “Max, let’s watch the mouth.”

“Don’t take it out on me. I’m pretty sure that’s what every guy wants.”

“Steve’s not every guy, he’s. He’s fucking perfect and he was born in a castle and he’s always had anything he’s ever wanted and I’m a piece of shit–” 

“Billy, you’re fine,” Max tells him. Because, of course, she sees right through Billy’s vitriol.

He’s made of glass.

He’s a window. A crystal slipper, plummeting to its brain-shattered death.

Max knocks their toes together again. “Even if you served him a burnt pot of macaroni on a dirty plate, tucked over a sticky dining room table, he’d love it.”

“Why,” Billy snaps, “Because it’s me.”

“Because it’s you,” She says, eyes blue and earnest. “Now, walk me through your perfect date.”

–

In the end, mop top and the wheeler kid think it’s sweet that Billy’s trying in the first place.

They give him his blessing.

On February 14th, a day that’s so cloud-covered and rain drenched that Billy almost wants to call the whole parade off and stay in bed until the sun rises red and new, Steve’s dorks manage to get him out of the house.

His parents are in Rome, because.

Of course they’re in Rome. The city of love.

And Billy’s been shaking hard enough to cause an Earthquake since the second he got into the shower this morning, but Max smiles and says, “Tonight, Hawkins is the most romantic place in the world.”

So Billy chooses hope.

They light candles. They decorate. Billy orders heart-shaped pizza because he’d probably give them food poisoning if he tried to cook, and suddenly it’s 5:00.

The dorks clear out.

When the front door opens, Steve runs headfirst into a hallway covered in wilting daisy petals. He’s immediately tangled in the strings of four stubborn Get Well balloons because Max tried her best.

He drops his shopping bags when he sees the candles.

He almost brains it on the stairs, because Billy’s waiting in a suit, collar uncomfortably tight around the knob of his throat.

“Billy–” He says, with tears in his eyes.

But Billy’s gotta spit it out, before the words choke him to death. He takes the stairs two at a time, arriving at the bottom.

“Steve,” He says, kind of breathless. “I don’t just like you. I love you, and. Max helped me plan this because I’m an idiot. And the balloons are all wrong and I didn’t cook you anything, not even macaroni, but I love you, and--”

“It’s perfect,” Steve tells him.

And Billy doesn’t want to brag, but.

He proves it. Seals the deal with a kiss.

[muffinsin]

Hey, I like to think castle Dimitrescu has a nice sizable garden. I like to think the family employs maids to upkeep the gardens alongside the vineyards; planting and designing elaborate flower beds, Roman statues, trellises, arbor gate, a beautiful hedge maze mixed with climbing roses, secluded seating in dead ends and an elegant fountain hidden in the middle. I also like to think that once spring has sprung, Daniela reads in the gardens rather than the library.

I also also like to think that one late summer night, a curious outsider scales the garden walls for the sole purpose of picking a rose. What they find instead is Dani, sitting by the fountain reading out loud Romeo and Juliet. Enchanted by the youngest Dimitrescu’s beauty, the outsider (fem g!p) admires from afar. Dani is reading Act 2 scene 2 where Romeo scales the capulet garden wall to see Juliet again (aka the balcony scene). She reads out a Juliet line, “How camest thou hither, tell me, and wherefore? The orchard walls are high and hard to climb, And the place death, considering who thou art, If any of my kinsmen find thee here.” Before she can continue, the outsider reads out the Romeo line, “With love’s light wings did I o’erperch these walls, For stony limits cannot hold love out, And what love can do, that dares love attempt. Therefore thy kinsmen are no stop to me.” Of course, this startles Dani at first, but soon she relaxes and finds herself taken by this dashing outsider. She gets the idea to test this outsider and see how long they can recite the story until things become…..too heated.

Lol I’m sure you can see a pattern with me. I love romance, especially the classics. Also, happy new year day!🎉

I absolutely agree about the garden!🪴 also such an interesting concept!👀 I’ll admit I’ve never read Romeo and Juliet lol so this might be a tad bit messier than I’d like it to be- won’t lie tho I had a lot of fun with it😬 Happy new year! 🎊 (little late as I took my time with this request, but still! Happy 2024 y’all!🎊)

Let’s get into it!

Masterlist 1

Masterlist 2

You barely manage to hold onto the stone wall as you climb alongside the small ledge. It’s cold, and slippery, and if it wasn’t for the vines covering it, you doubt you would be able to find your grip again at all.

Below you lies sure death by now, rocks and hills, thorns and boulders. You don’t spare it a glance now- never has looking down worked for anybody. You’ll just be able to return the way you came, all the way at the end of the ledge and into the tree that stands tall and proud.

A rose, is your goal.

You’re not sure why you’ve accepted this bet in the first place- to pluck a rose from the gardens of the Dimitrescu family. It’s by no means an easy task, much less one that promises safe return.

Maybe it’s your curiosity that led you to accept.

After all, the Dimitrescus are somewhat of a myth, merely a very real one.

You’ve never personally laid eyes on any of them, but heard the stories.

Stories of women, virgins, dragged off and made into wine. Others enslaved to work at the castle, at which a gruesome fate awaits them should they not perform well.

Other stories speak of a woman, a countess, taller than any man or woman one has ever seen. And three commanders, daughters.

It is said they are a family of royal standard, yet blood-thirsty huntresses willing to kill and slaughter innocent people.

You know of their distaste of men- everybody does.

And yet you have never seen them, not one of them. Are they truly as bad as they are made out to be? Are they filthy hags with bloodied limbs and large, unforgiving eyes?

It says it is curiosity that kills the cat, and yet you’re feeling exceptionally curious.

Perhaps, your questions will be answered at last.

You steady your grip as you near what must be the gardens of the castle. The summer air is warm, and even from the opposite side of the wall do you smell the scent of many blooming flowers.

You freeze momentarily at a voice. Have you been discovered?

No, the voice is faint, and dreamy. Soft, and beautiful. You feel as though pulled in.

Faster and more eager than you should, you scale the ledge faster, eager to see who this beautiful voice belongs to.

“What man art thou that, thus bescreened in night, so stumblest on my counsel”, the dreamy voice goes on.

You frown- you know this quotation.

For a moment you feel a small blush creep to your face- how fitting the line is, in a way. Only is it you who suddenly has their mind invaded by the calm, soft voice from the other side of the wall.

It’s soft and warm, gentle and yet- hopeful. Phrases roll off the sweet maiden’s tongue like honeyed words, from what must be honeyed lips.

You wonder- is this one of the women kidnapped by the almighty Dimitrescu family? A beauty trapped in the castle? You would free her, and yet beg her to sing her sweet phrases more and more.

You keep moving, you can see a bunch of thicker vines near you, perfect to climb the thick stone wall and make your way into what can only be the Garden of Eden.

“By a name. I know not how to tell thee who I am. My name, dear saint, is hateful to myself, Because it is an enemy to thee. Had I it written, I would tear the word.”, the dainty creature reads aloud.

You grunt quietly as you at last climb the thick vines. As though enchanted by a siren’s spell, your eyes immediately find the woman the beautiful voice belongs to, and are at once unable to gaze away from her for even a moment.

Auburn hair falls down her back and shoulders, glistening in the beautiful light of the moon. It has her skin appear almost white-grayed, the pale color a contrast to her dark clothing.

She is ethereal, you realize. You can’t make out the details of her face from a distance, the urge to move closer to her taking over your mind.

The beauty sits perched on a small, regal looking bench, surrounded by flowers.

You watch her pick one, a white, large one, and bring it to her face. Even from the distance you see her eyes closing in content.

She’s completely in her own little world, it seems. It’s a beautiful sight to see. Never have you gazed upon such beauty and purity.

Then, she giggles, and it’s as though your heart skips several beats.

The flower you are supposed to pick- there are plenty right within your arms reach, yet you can’t be bothered. Your eyes have set on a by far more perfect prize.

The beautiful woman smells the flower once more before picking up the book resting in her lap again.

“My ears have not yet drunk a hundred words. Of that tongue's uttering, yet I know the sound. Art thou not Romeo and a Montague?”, she reads aloud in an angel’s voice, though she is giddy now. She seems to be reading to the flower she has picked, as though it was her beloved Romeo.

You’re blushing, the next line well on your mind. Again, it applies to you.

“Neither, fair maid, if either thee dislike.”, you whisper to yourself. What are you- a burglar, technically? A villager?- neither, if she shall not like even one. You wish to be whatever she wants you to be, for her.

Soon enough the dainty creature repeats, gently, the words from the verse.

“Neither, fair maid, if either thee dislike.”, she hums. You fully climb over the wall, hidden by the shadows as you step into the garden.

This woman, you notice in the back of your mind, doesn’t seem like a captive. Like a helpless maiden. She seems powerful, yet delicate.

Upon getting a closer look, you notice her golden eyes nearly glowing in the darkness of the night. They’re beautiful, unique and breathtaking.

You yearn to touch the beauty, to feel her words of love and affection addressed to you.

“How camest thou hither, tell me, and wherefore? The orchard walls are high and hard to climb, and the place death, considering who thou art, if any of my kinsmen find thee here.”, she reads aloud, and her voice is so soft, so enchanting and alluring, seductive and sweet, innocent and tempting all at the same time, you can no longer hold back.

“With love's light wings did I o'erperch these walls, for stony limits cannot hold love out; And what love can do, that dares love attempt. Therefore thy kinsmen are no stop to me”, you blurt out.

She’s visibly startled, so much so that the flower falls from her delicate thighs and onto the stone pavement, her golden eyes bright and wide as she turns her head adorably, trying to find you.

It seems even before you step out of the shadows, she finds you.

Still, the beauty stares in bewilderment as you approach, stepping closer and closer. She takes a step back, gasping when the back of her knees hit the bench behind her.

To your shock, a sickle is summoned to her hand, and her position grows defensive. Perhaps it’s foolish that it took you until now to realize that the dainty creature is no helpless maiden, but one of the predators taunting the village and its inhabitants.

But, she’s pretty.

And so you march on no matter the risk, as though she was a siren and had lured you in.

When in front of her, you bend down somewhat gracefully to grasp and pick up the fallen flower. It’s shines in the moonlight, not entirely unlike the beautiful woman’s eyes.

When you rise and, with to Daniela surprising and never seen confidence, grasp her hand, you note a small, but surprised gasp coming from her.

Her hand is soft, but cold, and she gasps again as you bend down to place a light kiss to her knuckles.

How…romantic. You’re unlike anybody she has ever met or even laid eyes on.

The woman wordlessly stares, a blush on her pale cheeks making her seem more petite and innocent than she surely is.

As she accepts the flower back into her hand, words tumble from her lips- the continuation of the verse.

“If they do see thee, they will murder thee”, she whispers.

Unbeknownst to you, Daniela’s words ironically are a warning. If one of her sisters or mother was to spot you, you will be slain. Her eyes glisten with something- curiosity, love, hope, darkness. You feel as if you could drown in those beautiful pools of gold.

You hold her gaze. For some reason you find yourself deeply disappointed when her hand slips from yours.

She looks shy, yet seductive. She knows exactly what she is doing, and is yet cautious- you are an intruder, after all, with intentions unclear to her.

“Alack, there lies more peril in thine eye than twenty of their swords. Look thou but sweet, and I am proof against their enmity.”, you answer, stating Romeo’s verse.

Again, you seem to almost be responding to her warning in the poem of the beautiful words of the verse coming from your lips.

Then, a small promise falls from Daniela’s lips. Again, you would not know the true meaning of the spoken phrase until later.

“I would not for the world they saw thee here”, she says, and means it.

Her sisters will not find this delicious and intriguing intruder. You’re all hers, she decides.

You’re quick to respond to her.

“I have night's cloak to hide me from their eyes, and but thou love me, let them find me here. My life were better ended by their hate, than death proroguèd, wanting of thy love.”

You smile at her blush, as well as when you notice her breath quicken. This woman is adorable.

Daniela feels as though her head is spinning. She feels weak at her knees at your romantic words. This is like the most delightful of games!

The auburn haired woman grips the flower a little tighter, smirking at you as she smells it again and smiles.

With a light push to your shoulder, she walks past you, elegant in her slow and seductive movements.

“By whose direction found'st thou out this place?”, she asks, real curiosity burning in her golden eyes.

You see what she is doing, too. She’s testing you, to see how far you will be able to go until you cannot keep up with her.

As though you were the predator you know this woman apparently is, you stalk after her as she moves, admiration and want clear on your face whereas her is a perfect mask of seductiveness, hope and eagerness.

You don’t keep the beautiful woman waiting, instead answer proudly: “By love, that first did prompt me to inquire. He lent me counsel, and I lent him eyes. I am no pilot, yet wert thou as far as that vast shore washed with the farthest sea, I would adventure for such merchandise.”

The woman’s eyes shine at your answer, and yet as you reach out to grab her, she spins and keeps moving.

She’s a siren, and you’re eager to be pulled under.

Her fingertips caress the flowers she passes, the vines and even the cold stone wall. She rests on top of the stairs of a gazebo, excitement betrayed in her eyes.

You stare in anticipation, your greedy eyes taking in the sight of this woman. Her auburn hair falling gently and blowing in the warm wind, the black rose tattoo in her forehead symbolizing her house. You wish to trace it.

The choker necklace sitting snuggly around her throat, regal and gothic looking, with a single, green gemstone embedded in it.

Her large cleavage, exposed due to the V-Cut of her dress. You do your best not to stare, yet feel your dick twitching beneath your trousers at the sight and scent of the woman, the flowery and sweet one lingering in the air as long as she is only around. You feel your arousal rising with every passing moment.

She’s the most stunning creature you have ever encountered.

“Thou knowest the mask of night is on my face, else would a maiden blush bepaint my cheek for that which thou hast heard me speak tonight. Fain would I dwell on form; fain, fain deny what I have spoke. But farewell, compliment. Dost thou love me? I know thou wilt say 'Ay,' And I will take thy word; yet if thou swear'st,

Thou mayst prove false. At lovers' perjuries they say Jove laughs. O gentle Romeo, if thou dost love, pronounce it faithfully; or if thou thinkest I am too quickly won, I'll frown and be perverse and say thee nay,

So thou wilt woo, but else not for the world. In truth, fair Montague, I am too fond, and therefore thou mayst think my behavior light. But trust me, gentleman, I'll prove more true

Than those that have more coying to be strange. I should have been more strange, I must confess, but that thou overheard'st, ere I was ware, my true-love passion.

Therefore pardon me, and not impute this yielding to light love, which the dark night hath so discoverèd.”

By the end of her turn, she is in front of you, so close that you feel on fire, almost. Her hands, bare and soft, rest on your shoulders as she gazes down at you from the step she stands on. Golden eyes betray the arousal she feels, and give a hint towards the delusional “love” she believes to feel already.

It’s a dangerous game, and one you’re eager to play.

The woman gasps as you grip her hips, slim but soft, and allows you to lift her off the step.

Her golden eyes find you, tension building up farther between the two of you. Her gaze is piercing almost, as is yours.

“Lady, by yonder blessèd moon I vow, that tips with silver all these fruit-tree tops-“, you begin, smiling softly as she eagerly responds, her hands squeezing your shoulders as you squeeze her hips.

Her cheeks are warm and pink as she talks, the dainty creature only yours for this moment.

“O, swear not by the moon, th'inconstant moon, that monthly changes in her circled orb, lest that thy love prove likewise variable.”, she responds, breathless.

Daniela feels eager, and she spots the eagerness in your eyes.

You feel her so close to you, and it’s making your head spin. All in you demands you to lean forwards and capture the woman’s soft looking lips in yours.

“What shall I swear by?”, comes your breathlessly spoken reply.

“Do not swear at all, or, if thou wilt, swear by thy gracious self, which is the god of my idolatry, and I'll believe thee.”

You can no longer hold back.

A small, surprised gasp comes from the woman as you grip her back and push her forwards, your lips capturing hers effortlessly. She hums and moans against yours, her small noises more erotic than any you have ever heard before.

She is a seductress, a huntress, and you are her all too eager prey.

“Tell me your name, Juliet, I must know”, you beg, words hushed and whispered against her soft lips. She’s panting from the kiss, hands rising to your neck.

“Daniela”, she answers. “Daniela Dimitrescu”, she adds, as though there was any doubt remaining to her true identity.

You capture her lips in a kiss lest she can speak again, your tongue addicted to the taste of hers again already.

Her little noises, her moans and gasps, hums and giggles do a number on you. You must not look or reach down to feel yourself become hard, and you barely refrain from groping and kneading the soft flesh of her body.

Softly, you lead her inside the gazebo, and an equally soft gasp escapes your lips as the woman pushes you down on the bench.

You must not yearn for her touch, however, as she straddles your thighs immediately and leans in for yet another kiss, her hands coming up to the sleeves of your blouse, tugging gently.

You know what she wants, and grant it to the beauty.

With a simple movement you unbutton and take off your blouse, eyes watching hungrily as Daniela slips off your lap to undo the corset around her waist. You watch greedily as she pulls its strings and it falls to the floor, then reaches back to pull open her dress.

One by one skin is revealed as her dress inches down- pale shoulders, perky, round breasts and hard, slightly darker nipples, a soft stomach and waist with smooth and wide hips, black panties in the way to see her most intimate part. Thick thighs and black, near transparent tights, black heels. You can’t help ogling the beautiful creature.

Daniela blushes under your gaze, climbing back onto your lap as she kisses you. Your hips settle on her hips again, and you feel your bulge press up against her covered cunt.

You want nothing but to press up, to grind against her.

“Perfect”, you whisper, trailing kisses along her sensitive neck. She’s moaning and whimpering on top of you, hands kneading your thigh only arousing you more.

She cups your bulge, and you near bite down on her pale skin. Groans slip past your lips as she gropes and squeezes, eagerly exploring your body with one hand on your bulge, the other traveling up and down your front.

“You’re ethereal. Breathtaking”, you moan. You feel her shiver and hear her gasp at your words. She’s adorably sensitive as you prod at her neck, kissing, biting and sucking, creating hickeys on pale flesh.

Daniela lets out a light gasp as your hands slide up to her breasts, squeezing and cupping them. They’re large and round, soft and firm. A pull of her nipples has the redhead arch her back slightly for you.

“So beautiful”, you whisper, like you at last receive your prize. She whimpers, moaning and mewling softly for you.

With desperation clear in her golden eyes, Daniela grinds down on you, her warm panty-covered core rubbing against your bulge. You feel yourself growing painfully hard and twitching underneath her. You want release, and you want to grant her hers.

“May I, my fair lady?”, you whisper against her neck, lips brushing against her bruised and marked skin as your fingers slide down and toy with the waistband of her underwear.

She nods quickly, eagerly. “Yes, my love, please”, she gasps all so happily.

As soon as she stands enough to allow you to slide her underwear off, her eager hands grip the waistline of your trousers. Eager, seductive eyes set on you yet again and you nod, lifting your hips enough for her to pull the clothing down and expose you.

Your eyes widen as she drops to her knees, a hand snaked between her own legs, her other on your thigh. She stares up at you, submissively and blushing, yet so eager and enticing.

“Please”, you whisper, a gentle command for her to take you in her awaiting mouth. Daniela doesn’t have to be told twice, head leaning forwards as she takes you in, humming and moaning around your tip.

It’s been ages since she’s had one, she feels giddy with excitement at the prospect of getting to play with you!

You tangle your hand in her hair, feeling the soft locks as she bobs her head and squeezes your thigh.

Her cheeks are warm, her eyes bright whenever she glances up at you. Moans ripple from her throat and your head spins when she begins to finger herself, dragging moans and mewls from her lips which’s vibrations bring you immense pleasure.

At the squelching sound of her pussy accepting her fingers inside, you wish for nothing but to bury yourself deep within her.

She takes her fingers well, and is, by the sound of her fingers thrusting in and out, soaked.

You yearn to feel the woman around you, bouncing on your cock and receiving it hard from behind as her adorable, sexy breasts bounce for you, then clean the beauty up.

“Y-Yes, you’re doing so go-good!”, you praise, which only seems to spur her on more. Daniela hums and smiles, hips shaking for a moment as she curls her fingers within herself.

Truly, she would much rather have you inside than her fingers, if only so she wouldn’t have to be as gentle as she must be with her sharp nails.

She tastes the precum dripping from you for a moment, giggling as she lets go of your cock and licks it up eagerly. “Good girl”, you groan, panting and moaning for her. You cup your own breast and guide her head back to your cock, shivering as the minx drags her tongue along you and sucks your tip clean.

You gasp at the feeling, the pleasure driving you closer to your orgasm.

She too feels close, her thighs trembling and her hips bucking up as her thumb grazes against her clit and rubs it as she thrusts her fingers inside.

With gentle, shaky hands you grab her hair again and guide her back to her previous position, moaning as your cock slips back inside her warm and wet mouth and she bobs her head again.

You feel yourself at the back of her throat, pushing up against her collar necklace the deeper she takes you and gags around you.

Your fingers twitch as you play with your breasts, and your head spins. You’re so close, but want her to cum first. So you hold back and continue on moaning and gasping, praises for her falling from your lips that only edge her closer to her own orgasm.

Thankfully, she is not far away from hers, moaning and whimpering constantly with a flushed face and a mouth full of your cum.

At last you notice her cum, her moans and muffled scream bringing you to your own, as you hastily pull away to cover her chest and lips.

You pant and buck your hips beyond control at the erotic picture of the beautiful woman painted in your cum. It drips from her wet lips to her chin, sticks to her chest and collarbone.

You waste no time to pull her back on your lap, the woman’s glee giggles causing a wide smile to form on your face. She’s got you wrapped around your finger, with her sweet voice and adorable appearance and giggles, her unique physique as well as her beautiful eyes- and both of you know this.

Her lips meet yours once again. As you taste yourself on her tongue, you feel the primal urge to taste her.

Daniela blushes shyly when her wrist is grabbed and brought to your face, your eyes taking in the shimmer of slick wetness that coats her fingers.

When you wrap your mouth around the digits, the auburn haired woman grinds down again. Her wet cunt rubs directly against your cock and your head spins at the feeling of her wetness smeared against you.

You hum around her fingers, tasting the sweet, candy-like wetness that must be her cum. You almost chuckle. The sweet flavored taste matches her perfectly.

Daniela watches panting as you suck her fingers clean completely, only letting go of her wrist once all wetness is licked and sucked away.

As you feel your cock hardening between your legs and pushing up against her, Daniela squeaks adorably. She grinds down properly, moaning and whimpering at the feeling of her wet and sensitive clit rubbing against you.

As much as you are a fan of her wet body humping your cock, you barely have any restraint left. All of you urges you to push inside the beautiful woman.

“Can I?”, you ask, wanting to confirm her consent to this. Daniela giggles breathlessly, her hips raising already and her hand reaching between her legs as she sinks down on you.

“O-Oooh!~”, she moans, her mouth dropped open at the feeling of having you slide deep inside of her. She’s shivering and grips your shoulders tightly, as though to adjust to the feeling.

You stay still despite your urges to take the dainty creature and fuck her sore, instead allow her this time to get used to the feeling. Still, your cock twitches and throbs inside of her, and her cunt clenches around you as if to milk you of your cum.

“You feel s-so good, my love”, she whispers, panting and moaning as she moves her hips a little.

“As do you, my beautiful Daniela”

The phrase makes her head spin and has her clench around you tightly. To be called yours so boldly is doing things to her. She doesn’t ever want to let you go! No, you’re all hers, intruder or not. Her sisters would never have to find out…

Daniela gasps when your patience seems to come to an end. You thrust upwards roughly, eager to feel her clench around you again; and you are granted this.

“Divine”, you whisper back, your hands at her hips as you work your hips. You thrust fast and deep, and watch in delight as the redhead moans and shrieks from the pleasure, her hands tightening on your shoulders, her breasts bouncing as she is fucked on top of your lap.

Daniela’s head is thrown back when you lean down and wrap your lips around her breast, sucking eagerly. Now you have a taste of her, you are sure she is what can only be described as utter bliss.

“Ah-ah! A-AAAh!”, she shrieks and moans, little whimpers and moans falling from her black painted lips. She feels you thrust deep into her and does her best to match your thrusts, grinding down and panting soon at your pace.

You don’t deny her, instead move your hand down to rub her small clit in tight circles.

She can’t remember ever being taken like this; raw want and lust displayed in the form of pointed, skilled thrusts into her, hands gripping her hips tightly to ensure she would stay in place right where you want her, as well as the way your lips wrap around her nipple eagerly.

“Ple-A-AH! Yes! Yes! AAHMORE!”

She feels helpless in the best way, succumbing to pleasure and love, whimpering and gasping for more. Her thick ass presses against your balls every time she grinds down again, and as your limbs ache, you feel her riding you eagerly.

Daniela’s hips buck helplessly after a short while already. You feel her tightening around you every few seconds, her chest heaving and her arched back causing her breasts to push against you tighter.

You lose your other hand from her hip and slide it up her ribcage, until you cup her unoccupied breast.

The poor redhead feels herself be brought to her orgasm fast; with your cock buried deep inside of her and her clit rubbed, her sensitive nipples squeezed and sucked.

Eager to repay the favor, one of her hands slides down to cup your breast. The dainty thing is a lot stronger and naughtier than she appears, her fingers bringing you pleasure with ease even as her hips rise and fall.

She looks graceful riding you, even as her head is thrown back and her back is arched for you.

“S-So close, A-AAAAH! Y-yes! YES!”

You bite down on her gently, tearing yet another squeak and gasp from her lips. Her clit feels warm as it throbs under your fingertip, the needy woman so close.

When she cums, she tightens around you, so much it takes all of your willpower not to cum inside of her yet. You don’t want things to end just yet, too caught up in her bliss.

Daniela gasps when within moments she is picked up and turned, instead leaned against the bench with you still inside.

The new position allows you to thrust even deeper into your sweet newfound darling.

It’s ironic in a way; your intention to pick and steal a single flower from the Castle gardens, yet you pluck the most beautiful and precious one for yourself

[polariskai]

txt prompts/blurbs/writing ideas.

⋆ hey hi hello !! so I have around 738272 txt au works in my drafts and I know that I will most probably never get to write any of these so I decided to just post some of them here as writing ideas.

⋆ I've discarded this works for mainly two reasons. for one, it was quite tedious for me to conceptualize or write. two, I just ost interest in writing them lol

⋆ I would also like to say that for these writing ideas, you can freely use them and no need for credit. These can also be used for other fandoms as well, I labeled them as txt writing ideas because originally these were really intended for them. If you do use them though, I would like to be tagged hehe

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[ LEGEND ] ☂︎ : angst , ♡ : fluff

CHOI YEONJUN °

— man of my dreams | ☂︎

yeonjun was everything you’ve ever wanted. You loved and adored him so much, or so you thought. You have created fantasies of him in your head and once they began to crumble down, soon you were hammered with the reality of how he truly was to you . After a bitter breakup, you wonder on who's end does the fault of the relationship lie on. Was it your fault for creating this unhealthy and unrealistic idea of him, being oh so in love with the idea of him than him, really? Or was it yeonjun’s fault for failing to meet your expectations and be a good partner to you that it drove you to create another ideal version of him?

› ideal as a oneshot

› has a complete outline already ! just dm me if you want it

— the villain's savior | ☂︎♡

you are devastated when you find out your favorite character in the Isekai romance fantasy manhwa you were reading, the second lead turned villain, choi yeonjun is on the brink of death on the last chapter update. the next day, you wake up shocked and confused to see a boy who looks extremely identical to yeonjun laying on your couch, in the same exact bloody and injured state in the last chapter you saw yeonjun in.

CHOI SOOBIN °

— summer flame | ♡

choi soobin. the one boy that somehow always gets on your nerves for the most ridiculous reasons. from leaving his pencil shavings on your desk to wearing a teenage mutant ninja turtles shirt to your acting project, you just couldn't stand being around him even if he was the last person on earth. But what happens when you're forced you to spend almost two weeks of your summer with the one person you despise the most?

› has a complete outline already ! just dm me if you want it

CHOI BEOMGYU °

— love is sour grapes | ☂︎

a hanahaki au wherein you only get the disease if you assume the one you love doesn't love you back. the only way you can reverse the damage is by removing every single memory you have of that person through a surgical procedure. not even reciprocated love can save you.

you and beomgyu are childhood friends. your relationship over the years became pretty complicated. there was something blooming between the two of you but you were too scared to put the label and commit to it. beomgyu on the other hand has confessed and has been patiently waiting for more than a year for an answer. at some point, what ends up blooming instead are the petals threatening beomgyu's lungs.

KANG TAEHYUN °

— game on! | ☂︎♡

you and kang taehyun go head to head on a battle to becoming the student council president on your senior year. the conflict really arises when the results come and it's revealed you guys got a tie in the score tally. the school schedules a re-election on the next month. and neither of you plan on accepting defeat, you both constantly bicker and pull pranks on each other. In a party set on the day before your re-election debate, you and taehyun find yourselves stuck in a different type of tension.

[icharchivist]

Low stakes human AU where they're just silly but nobody gets truly hurt

It's just the silliness

wasn't that the summer event last year

it ended with Belial beating us up because he was a bully, we know it's pain--

joking aside i actually have like. a full AU with @nadejdaro that we discussed before of like.

Sandalphon as a coffeeshop owner who one day gets a day job accident, falling from a railing while changing the sign for his coffeeshop or something, and he gets a pretty bad back injury that requires surgery

His doctor there would be Lucifer, who'd take care of him until full recovery, and checking up with him. obviously a romance blooms, especially once Sandalphon is out of the hospital and just have to check with his doctor once in a while. Lucifer becomes a regular at his coffeeshop.

He'd need therapy at the same time to deal with everything that's happening and turns out Lucifer has a twin brother who's really good at reading people. Just. huh. he's also terrible. (yes that's Belial.)

And when it came to having Lucilius in the story we settled on Lucilius being Lucifer and Belial's angry cat who is always purring while cuddling with Lucifer, but constantly scratching Belial's hands and maiming Sandalphon when he comes to visit.

.... this is the only way he managed to write it at the lowest stake possible.

So i guess i would lie if i said i didn't think about it, but it's probably telling that my only thought to deal with Lucilius was pretty much "yeah, angry cat, here we go".

But since this ask was a result of the blind date for Lucilius and Belial ask...... Just imagining Lucilius not being a mad scientist but dreaming to be one is funny enough as it is. and Belial can be head over heels for him.

So. it'd track, for sure.

[vousmereve]

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ㅤㅤㅤ 𑣪 Things That Spark My Curiosity!

The seeds of a profound connection often sprout from shared interests, serving as a gateway to deeper conversations. It is truly remarkable how the intertwining of our respective preferences can pave the way for enduring friendships. Below, I offer a glimpse into my world, allowing you to discern the facets of my better personality.

MUSICAL REPERTOIRE: IU, AILEE, HUH YUNJIN, LE SSERAFIM, SEVENTEEN, ENHYPEN, ITZY, Elaine, Lyn, Kehlani, Taylor Swift (big fan), beabadoobee, NIKI, wave to earth, Novo Amor, The Weeknd, Chase Atlantic, Roosevelt, Reality Club, Laufey, Lonely in the Rain, Sleeping At Last, Westlife, My Chemical Romance, Paramore, Ben Howard, Bon Iver, MALIQ & D’Essentials, Fourtwnty, and the songs I listen to, according to how I’m feeling.

SERIES & FILMS: Sherlock Holmes, Enola Holmes, Harry Potter, Marvel Cinematic Universe, Alice In Borderland, Jigsaw, Wednesday, Elizabeth, Anne With An E, Disney Princess, Barbie(s), Casper (1995), Sherlock, Tomorrowland, The Meg, The Black Demon, Shark Bait, Fall, The Rain, Me Before You, The Crown, Hocus Pocus, 1899, The Sinking of Van Der Wijck, The Maze Runner, and many are not on the list.

KOREAN DRAMA & MOVIE: Hope, 20th Century Girl, Memories of the Alhambra, W (Two Worlds), While You Were Sleeping, Descendants of the Sun, The Legend of the Blue Sea, Vincenzo, Mouse, Taxi Driver, Our Beloved Summer, Law School, Dr. Romantic, Miracle in Cell No. 7, Reply 1988, The Beauty Inside, Crash Landing On You, Are You Human?, Itaewon Class, Who Are You: School 2015, School 2017, He Is Psychometric, All Of Us Are Dead, Squid Game, Train to Busan, Fight for My Way, Romance Is A Bonus Book, Big Mouth, The Lonely and Great God (Goblin), Pinocchio, Psychopath Diary, Hell Is Other People, The Heirs, Strong Girl Bong-soon, When the Camellia Blooms, My Love from the Star, The Moon Embracing the Sun, and many are not on the list.

ANIMOVIE: Your Lie in April, Kakegurui, Singeki No Kyojin (big fan), Jujutsu Kaisen, Naruto, Naruto Shippuden, Tokyo Ghoul, Kimetsu no Yaiba, Blue Lock, Tokyo Revengers, Wotakoi: Love Is Hard for Otaku, My Little Monster, Takt Op. Destiny, Assassination Classroom, and many more are not on the list.

CHINESE DRAMA: The Untamed, Love O2O, Put Your Head on My Shoulder, A Little Thing Called First Love. (I don’t watch many Chinese dramas, if you have any recommendations please tell me)

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[official-witchy-vibes]

STRAWBERRY FULL MOON JUNE 13, 2022:

June is a big month in the stars, as it wrapped up a messy Mercury retrograde, kicked off a serious Saturn retrograde, and will soon herald in the beginning of summer. However, right smack in the middle of it all is the June 2022 full moon, which peaks on Tuesday, June 14. Traditionally called the strawberry moon, this oh-so-sweet lunation happens to be a supermoon — meaning that it takes place in a closer-than-usual proximity to the earth and will appear larger-than-usual because of it.

Understanding the spiritual meaning of the June 2022 full strawberry moon can help you squeeze all the cosmic juice out of this powerful lunar moment.

Full moons occur approximately once per month, when the sun and moon are forming an opposition aspect to one another in the zodiac. In the case of this year’s Strawberry Moon, the moon will be in free-spirited Sagittarius, while the sun will be in witty and sociable Gemini.

Astrologically, full moons have a reputation for heightening our emotions, intensifying interpersonal dramas, and bringing tensions to a boil. However, full moons are also known to be illuminating, as their climactic energy can help us to let go of things or see situations from a new perspective.

Because the June 2022 full moon is the final full moon of the spring season, its release-oriented vibe will hit us even more powerfully than most — and it’ll inspire us to clear our slate in preparation for some fresh summer magic.

Working with the energy of the full moon allows us to align with the flow of nature’s cycles and use the power of astrology to our advantage, so understanding the June 2022 full moon’s spiritual meaning is a must.

What’s The Spiritual Meaning Of The Strawberry Moon?

Per the Farmer’s Almanac, the “Strawberry Moon” is a traditional nickname for any full moon that falls in June. This delectable moniker is based on the fact that strawberries ripen during this time of year in North America, so this juicy berry can finally be harvested and enjoyed.

This lunar folklore aligns beautifully with the full moon’s spiritual meaning, as astrologically, it marks a time to bring our mid-year goals to fruition and enjoy the fruits of our labor. Other historical nicknames for June’s full moon include Honey Moon, Blooming Moon, and Rose Moon, according to Almanac — all of which allude to the ambrosial sense of sweetness in the air during the late spring and early summer.

Like its succulent-sounding epithets, the June 2022 full moon is a time to bask in the magic of our accomplishments and allow our excitement about the future to fully ripen. It asks us to celebrate our growth and progress as we prepare for the new adventures (and new seasons) that lie ahead.

It’s also important to consider the zodiacal placement of the full moon when exploring its spiritual meaning. This one happens to be rising in fire sign Sagittarius, one of the most high-minded and happy-go-lucky energies of the zodiac. The current Gemini season vibe is all about paying attention to the details and immersing ourselves in the present moment, but this Sagittarius-ruled lunation inspires us to look beyond our immediate surroundings and start chasing the pot of gold at the end of the rainbow.

Now’s a time to broaden our horizons, shift our personal paradigms, and shoot for the stars. Be optimistic when setting intentions now and don’t limit yourself to the low-hanging fruit. However, keep your wits about you — as a tough lunar connection to illusive Neptune could make it difficult to see things clearly. Thankfully, a gentle sextile aspect with responsible Saturn will help keep our feet on the ground, even if our heads, hearts, and spirits are sparkling among the stars.

While the full moon won’t be closely connecting with lover planets Venus or Mars, we may still find that this Strawberry Moon energy sparks some summer romance. At the time of the full moon, balanced Venus will be aligning with unpredictable Uranus, bringing unexpected twists to our romantic lives or suddenly shifting our values.

Meanwhile, passionate Mars is aligning with wounded-healer comet Chiron, making us touchy about past hurts and extra sensitive to any potential emotional threats.

Be aware of this heightened tendency to lash out in defensiveness, but keep an open heart to exciting changes that could rock our relationships and inspire new connections.

How To Work With The Full Strawberry Moon Energy

Because this full moon hits right around the middle of the year, it’s a beautiful time to look back at what we’ve accomplished over the past six months and focus on clearing our slates for the latter half of 2022.

Spend some time reflecting on the goals you set for yourself at the start of the year and take stock of where you’re at with each of them. This full moon’s spiritual meaning can help to re-energize our focus toward our larger-scale dreams and aspirations. Allow it to boost your sense of confidence and help you to view our life from a bigger-picture perspective.

Aim high as you visualize what you’d like to see happen through the rest of the year, and consider ways you can bring yourself closer to this exciting potential reality — whether that involves furthering your education, connecting with a mentor, or going out on a limb to try something new.

The adventure-seeking energy of the Sagittarius full moon inspires us to chase after our sparkliest ambitions and trust that we can land on our feet, even if we take a risk.

It’s also important to note that this is the first full moon to hit since the destabilizing spring eclipse season that rocked our world throughout late April and May — meaning it’s our first chance to manifest or do moon magic during this powerful lunar phase.

Get witchy with it by doing a release ritual to fully let go of everything that fell away during last month’s total lunar eclipse, or try a healing crystal meditation that’s focused on accepting whatever changes have been revealed. The magic of this year’s Strawberry Moon is that it reminds us that life can be sweet, and that the seeds we sow will eventually ripen into delightfully nourishing gems.

The last new moon helped us to see the silver linings on eclipse season’s thunderous clouds, but this full moon feels like the rainbow that’s finally emerged after the storm. The sun is shining, the Strawberry Moon is rising, and our lives are ripe with possibility.

[grandhotelabyss]

When last we saw Tomiwa Owolade here at Grand Hotel Abyss, he was skeptical about decolonizing the curriculum in the mainstream literary press; above is his belated reply to one of those Red Guard letters from summer 2020 in the academic journal Critical Quarterly. 

In the introduction to the letter, editor Colin MacCabe remarks on “the rather dismal writings, heavily marked by their rhetorical lineage to the student protests of the 60s and 70s, which claim the [decolonize] slogan.” Regular readers will recall that MacCabe was the professor who introduced me to the “cosmopolitan humanism” of Ulysses, a position MacCabe, one of the first academics to apply poststructuralist thought to Joyce, himself arrived at only after abandoning a position he called Leninism—a development revealing that poststructuralism, sans Marxism and sans identity politics (whether derived from Marxism or fascism), might just be cosmopolitan humanism in disguise. In my Bloomsday 2022 essay on Ulysses, I wrote:

It helps to think of Ulysses as the first postcolonial novel—the first novel, that is, to argue that resisting an empire need not doom a nation to an exclusivist concept of itself, patriarchal and ethnonationalist. Joyce stresses Ireland’s immemorial diversity, from the time the Vikings landed in the first millennium A.D., which he analogizes by implication to the heterogeneity of the Greek-Phoenician fusion that produced the Homeric epics and to the diaspora of the Jews. Every nation, every people, and even every individual mind and body and day, is teeming, veritably rioting, with difference: “Jewgreek is greekjew.” Hence, this novel’s chief polemical enemy is less the British Empire—represented by Shakespeare, whom Stephen judges an acquisitive capitalist and jealous husband, anti-type to Bloom, and therefore no fit model for the modern Irish bard—or the Catholic Church—portrayed here as almost sadly superannuated, the barbaric priests of A Portrait having shrunken into cozy monsters—than the Irish nationalists, the anti-imperial resistance itself.

A well-known undergraduate professor of mine, author of a pioneering poststructuralist monograph on Joyce in the 1970s, liked to compare Joyce to Salman Rushdie and said or at least implied that if Joyce’s books had been easier to read he might have met Rushdie’s fate. Stephen Dedalus himself thinks as much, comparing Socrates’s executioners to Irish nationalists: “But neither the midwife’s lore nor the caudlelectures saved him from the archons of Sinn Fein and their noggin of hemlock.”

There are plenty of bad reasons cosmopolitan humanism is so viciously under assault today, but are there good reasons? Later in my essay, I wrote:

I won’t lie to you: my mood has been darkening on this subject for years. When I first read Ulysses, in the spring of 2001, six months before the Towers fell, I endorsed its values completely. I defended it against its academic detractors (largely Marxist) for a decade after that, one of whom supervised my doctoral dissertation, which I completed in 2013 and which is a monument to my Joycean loyalties. The very next year, on this very website, you can watch some skepticism finally begin to penetrate my mind. In 2014, I compared the novel to Spike Jonze’s cinematic AI romance Her and argued that Ulysses, in spite of Joyce’s own humanistic intent, looks forward to the posthuman gnostic future heralded equally in the last decade, though in very different ways and terms, by the social justice movement and by the neoreactionaries who consider themselves the enemy of all things just and social. This grim and intrusive thought likewise dominated my 2019 essay on Richard Ellmann’s magisterial biography of Joyce.

If cosmopolitan humanism’s horizon is the unconstrained absorption of the human by universal reason, incarnated on earth as omni-surveillant technology, then there’s no surprise if people choose God, race, magic, tradition, culture, or whatever other lords of unreason the capering Joyce so compellingly mocked back in the 20th century. 

[lgbtpopcult]

November WLW entertainment rundown

TV

Love Senior the series, first episode drops on YouTube November 8.

Scott Pilgrim November 17

Black Cake: Season One Premiere – November 1st

Beacon 23: Season One Premiere – November 12

Movies

You’re Not Suppose To Be Here, November 4, Lifetime

You’re Not Supposed to Be Here,” which premieres Nov. 4, stars Stause and Diora Baird as a lesbian couple babymooning in a remote mountain town. Developed from Lauren Caster’s concept, “You’re Not Supposed to Be Here” follows pregnant couple Zoe (Stause) and Kennedy (Baird), who are offered a vacation from their stressful lives when Kennedy’s boss gives them a key to a cabin in the woods. When they arrive, however, they are met with less than welcoming arms, prompting Zoe to sound alarms of homophobia, which Kennedy attempts to tamper down.

Books, Games Music etc

That French Summer

Reeling from a very public scandal, Delia Holland takes refuge in a run-down French chateau. She’s determined to stay out of the lime-light, to rebuild her life, and most of all, to be happy. Guillotining her husband would be the icing on the cake, if only she could find him.

After an accident and a surprise breakup, Paris Bennett finds herself alone on her longed-for French vacation. Her characteristically immaculate plans have fallen apart, and she’s barely holding herself together. Plus, the novelty of being Paris in Paris is rapidly starting to wear off.

But when a thunderstorm brings the two together for a night, something begins to sparkle. Delia’s heart starts to fill with happiness again, and Paris suddenly finds that her carefully laid out plans aren’t as necessary as she thought.

Grumpy neighbors, interfering English teachers, a housekeeper who’s more than she seems, a battered car, an even more battered moped, rats and spiders galore, and a chateau that could fall on their heads at any moment come together to prove that the perfect love story doesn’t have to be perfect at all. Sometimes happiness is there for the taking, as long as you can persuade yourself to choose it.

This Bed We Made

https://store.steampowered.com/app/1243850/This_Bed_We_Made/

"February 17, 1958. Sophie's shift at the Clarington Hotel begins like any other — until she opens the door to room 505 and a crimson light comes out…" Does that appeal to your curiosity? If so, this noir investigation full of guilty pleasures and a nosy maid is perfect for you. And of course, you’ll be able to form all sorts of bonds with the hotel guests you usually work for.

Available for: PC

~The Summer Romance Bloomed From A Lie~

This is a story about finding love to overwrite the feelings for the one they held dearest. A girls love visual novel about summer, love and adolescence.

3 Nov, 2023 https://store.steampowered.com/app/1575980/UsoNatsu_The_Summer_Romance_Bloomed_From_A_Lie/

[docholligay]

Usonatsu: The Summer Romance Bloomed From a Lie

YOU NOW KNOW EVERYTHING I KNOW ABOUT THIS GAME. We start at 7, but the room is open now.

[freezegirl]

five times comforted:      ( five times the receiver comforted the sender ) 👀😭

5x // @anqael

01: "she's wrong, you know." kie tells nora as she sits down next to her. vee's got the flu so she's out for the count. though nora has promised to send her the important patch related updates. this, however, isn't a patch related update. "marcie. she's wrong about you. sometimes people who are threatened do this... this thing where they project their own insecurities and such onto others and from my vantage point, marcie millar acts like she's the queen bee of this school but she's five seconds away from getting devoured by her subjects, which reminds me of this great horror movie i've seen recently---" and the conversation moves on, ever so swiftly, from marcie to movies.

02: "i've got a weak mind too," kie admits and maybe it's cold comfort but it's comfort all the same. "that doesn't mean you're necessarily weak-willed. it just means you've got issues with keeping out telepaths and the like. as do i. i'd offer to practice but one) i don't know how we'd do that without involving your guy and two) i doubt you would like what you could find in there."

03: yep, that's the fifth time nora has groaned in the past thirty minutes. so kie gets up and inclines her head. "come on, up you get."

nora levels her with a look and kie merely stares back until nora groans once more and gets up: "seriously, what's happening?"

kie grins, then, and says: "a dance party. that's what's happening. it always helps me whenever i'm stuck on something." she gets her phone out of her pocket, opens spotify and hands her phone to nora. "here, you can pick the first song."

04: "conrad or jeremiah, who would you pick?" asks nora, and kie dramatically falls over on nora's bed, if only so she can groan into a pillow. "no! you did not just ask me that!" nora laughs and soon enough, kie is laughing too. "okay, bear with me here, i'll be honest with you: i know that nobody's with me on this and it'll never happen because girls like us never get anything when it comes to tv shows like that but i would pick jeremiah for nicole richardson - that pretty black girl from season one who was conrad's summer hookup - and i would pick conrad for aubrey."

"who?"

"that indian girl. one of his exes. she was comforting him at his mom's funeral in season two."

nora nods, then. "ah, got it. but what about belly?"

"i would give belly a girlfriend. like dara jones, that cute redheaded girl. i think she was also in season one as another debutante. anyway, pan belly rights, you know?"

nora nods once more and, later, when kie asks her how she feels, nora says she feels much better. and this time, it isn't a lie.

05: they keep going because of course they do. "cole walter or alex walter? and you can't say: give jackie a girlfriend this time around!" nora warns kie playfully. it's far too late for kie to drive back so it's been decided that she'll stay with nora for the night.

it'd be nice, having someone in the house, she'd said. and kie relates to that more than she can admit.

"i don't know," kie murmurs, "i watched it all the way through but i liked the family shenanigans and the blooming theatre boy and popular girl romance better. also farkle from girl meets world was in there and he got a boyfriend, which was so cute."

"kie," nora tries to go for stern but she ends up giggling. "out with it."

"alex walter," kie says after a long moment of silence, "if only 'cause he looks kinda like will---" that is, will stronghold. "---if you squint." a decisive nod, and then: "that tall blond guy looks a little bit too much like zach for my taste. even if his personality is nothing like his. no, cole walter would have to clean up his act, and fast, if he doesn't want me to push him off his high horse."

"wow, i never thought you'd be capable of such violence," nora gasps dramatically.

"i know," kie responds, "it's 'cause i'm only five foot three. it fuels my secret rage."

nora laughs and laughs and laughs and kie gives herself a mental pat on the back for a job well done.

[angstama]

apple tree | chifuyu.m

pairing: chifuyu matsuno x reader

genre: angst, slow-burn, unrequited love, pining, fluff, chifuyu doesn’t love you that way :( 

warnings: as usual, heartbreak coming ahead <3

✧. in which you look back on the times that chifuyu had been the highlight and heartbreaker in your youth. 

you were five when you first met chifuyu matsuno under the big apple tree one summer day. 

head deep into bending the fragile weeds into a flower crown when a blonde haired boy with the prettiest ocean blue eyes approached you. “what are you doing?” he asked curiously, licking his already melting chocolate ice cream while looking at the imperfectly balanced flower that you had spent hours on crafting in your hands. “making a flower crown.” you answered simply, not even sparing the blonde haired boy a glance as you were too focused in tweaking the branches. 

“woah that’s awesome!” he beamed in excitement, plopping down next to you instantly and leaning in closer to take a look at it. “yeah i know right!” you smiled in triumph, finally looking up to see whoever was showing interest in your little hobby and behold, there sat chifuyu in a rainbow striped t-shirt with his legs crossed and eyes gleaming with interest.

 in all honesty, your flower crowns were horribly ugly, but in chifuyu’s eyes it was uniquely you. perhaps it was maybe because he hadn’t seen anyone making an actual flower crown before or perhaps maybe he was just feeling sorry for the girl who always sat alone under the big apple tree that never bloomed a single fruit all year round. whichever it was, you wished that it was the first. “teach me how to make one please!” he grabs your wrist, causing your cheeks to burn under the scorching hot sun and heart rate quickening though you were clueless as to why it happened being only at the age of five, so you decided that it was okay to have him around. 

strangely ever since then, you were never seen alone under the apple tree in the park again. 

you were nine when you first understood the concept of crushes, with the help of your best friend, chifuyu matsuno of course. 

“it’s when you want to share the biggest chicken drumlet with them dummy!” chifuyu explained, voice muffled from stuffing his face with fried chicken one after another. you weren’t sure how the two of you derived at the current topic, though you remember the last you checked, chifuyu was rambling on and on about the new girl in your class. “so, you’d share this with whoever you have a crush on?” you asked as you pointed towards the biggest drumstick that chifuyu had saved for the last, as always. 

he nodded impatiently, grabbing the very same drumstick and ready to devour it but only to come to a halt when the two of you locked eyes. “want some?” he offered, waving the fried chicken in front of you. “wh-what?” your words fumbled, taken aback by chifuyu’s sudden offer right after the whole sharing of the biggest chicken drumlet explanation he had just made. “you kept staring at it. do you want it?” he asked, with innocence laced in his voice, oblivious to the shade of red slowly making an appearance on your cheeks. you huffed, “am not!”. chifuyu only lets out a snort, “yeah sure,” he chuckles boyishly, leaning down to rest on your shoulders, causing your body to stiffen upon the sudden contact. that afternoon, for almost an entire hour you were forced to sit as straight as you could, afraid that something was going to erupt in your tummy again as you could feel the bubbling sensation that threatened to explode. 

you were thirteen when you finally realised that you, y/n l/n, wants to share the biggest drumstick with chifuyu matsuno. 

it was christmas eve and chifuyu had invited you over to his place for a dinner, claiming that his mother had threatened to throw his precious romance mangas away if he didn't invite you. 

you arrived at the matsuno’s household ten minutes earlier than stated with a tray of roasted potatoes held in your hands and beads of sweat running down your forehead despite the freezing cold temperature outside. for the eight years of friendship you had with chifuyu, you’ve never felt this nervous seeing him and his family. it’s the cold, you naively thought, when the door swung opened, revealing your best friend dressed in a maroon striped sweater with suspenders. his eyes widened, not expecting to really see you when he was just opening to check in an attempt to ease his mother’s sixth sense. “y/n? why didn’t you knock?” he gasped, gently tugging the tray on your hands into his as he looked at you in surprise. “well, i was gonna but you opened the door before i could!” you scoffed a white lie, wanting nothing but to cover up the fact that you had been standing outside because you couldn’t get your heart to calm down. 

“chifuyu why don’t you give y/n the gift you got for her now?” mrs matsuno chimed, elegance evident in her posture and movement when she lightly dabbed a napkin across her lips which made you wonder how is it possible that she's the mother of chifuyu when chifuyu shared not a single bit of her grace when it comes to eating. chifuyu pauses briefly, “give me a sec,” he nods before stuffing the roasted potato that was previously halfway into his mouth and standing up to jog over to his room. “he cleaned the house for two months for it.” mr matsuno chuckled as chifuyu jogs out again, this time with a paper bag held in his hand. 

“you better wear it everyday.” he sent you a playful wink, handing you the brown paper bag. you carefully unwrapped the ribbon that bounded the paper bag and pulling out an overly oversized hoodie enough to fit you through a lifetime. you noticed that it was same hoodie that chifuyu often wears except that yours was in the shade of emerald green, the colour that chifuyu had taken the effort to remember that you had once claimed as your colour when the two of you had a heated discussion on what colour represents yourselves. 

“wow! now we have a friendship hoodie!” you beamed in excitement, pulling the oversized hoodie over your sweater. “how do i look?” you asked, posing a few turns at chifuyu as he took a good look at you. “pretty.” he held a thumb up before stuffing another spoonful of pasta down. 

your lowered your gaze upon hearing the sudden compliment your best friend gave, opting to look at the last piece of roasted chicken that mrs matsuno had offered you earlier just now before chifuyu could lay his hands on it. your lips pursed, not entirely confident to do it but eventually picking up the piece of meat and placing it on chifuyu’s already dirtied plate from all the sauces he had mixed with his food. “thank you,” you mumbled, looking anywhere else but chifuyu’s burning gaze on you. 

the butterflies were taking flight soon and you on the other hand had no idea how to contain it. 

you were sixteen when chifuyu first broke your heart on the first day of the spring season, openly declaring in front of you and takemichi that he’ll be confessing to the pretty girl sitting in front of him during lunch time. 

her name is haru.

“no way! you’re kidding!” takemichi gaped, leaning in closer to chifuyu as the close proximity between the two of them wasn’t enough for him to hear chifuyu clearly. chifuyu crossed his arms, confidence evident in his posture, “of course not! i’ve already decided, there’s no going back!” 

“be sure not to scare her away!” you stuck your tongue out to which chifuyu rolled his eyes in response. “eh? you’re just jealous that no one’s confessing to you!”, wiggling his head in a playful manner as he brought an ‘L’ sign up to his forehead to further anguish you. you raised a middle finger, wanting nothing more than to end this conversation for you weren’t sure if you were able to contain the effect of your heart dropping six feet down. 

you knew chifuyu succeeded when he came running to you after school with the brightest smile you adored, a faint tint of blush coated on his cheeks. “guess i’m gonna see you lesser huh lover boy?” you chuckled softly, shoving your textbooks into your canvas bag as he swung himself onto your desk with a smug grin. “you’d wish huh don’t you? but no, you’ll still see me as often when i’m off from boyfriend duties,” he sang happily. perhaps maybe because it was chifuyu’s own words, you believed wholeheartedly that you were okay with being just his best friend and being supportive of his relationship. so you watched chifuyu’s love for haru bloomed into something more than just the typical puppy love you often watch on romcoms. 

in just a blink of an eye, two years had passed and the next thing you knew you were spending your birthday without your best friend for the second time in a row. “this sucks,” you grumbled, throwing your phone aside when the time struck midnight, announcing a new day had just arrived. chifuyu’s words were just empty affirmations when you realised that you barely ever saw your best friend. you weren't sure if the two of you were even best friends anymore. it felt more like he’s just a friend that you talk to occasionally now. you see, chifuyu is a loyal friend and that’s a widely known fact and that’s what made it even more heartbreaking for you because chifuyu always does just enough to keep your friendship alive and you had no reason to hate him for that. 

you rubbed your temples tiredly, wanting nothing more than to run your aching head into the wall when a packet of your favourite watermelon mints was thrown onto your desk. “rough night?”atsumu, your beloved table-mate asked smugly. “you don’t say,” you mumbled, rolling your eyes at the obvious as you impatiently tore the packet open. “he didn’t wish ya happy birthday did he?” the freshly bleached haired boy questioned. atsumu got his answer when you didn't sat in silence, opting to look out the window to distract yourself from the threatening tears prickling at the corner of your eyes. and god do love to test you when the scene of chifuyu leaning in to kiss haru on the lips ever so gently unfolds at your sight. oh how you wished that it was you who he’s kissing right now. 

chifuyu always does just enough to keep your friendship alive. 

it was already late into the night when you heard a knock outside your balcony. your breath hitched when you saw that it was chifuyu who had disturbed your little movie marathon alone after the events that had happened lately. “hey,” he breathed, a soft smile wearing on his lips to which you returned it with an awkward one, inviting him into your messy room. “oh we’re in our friendship hoodie!” he chuckles nervously. your eyes travelled on him, realising that indeed he’s wearing the same hoodie that you were currently wearing right now. “it’s late chi, what’s going on?” you sighed, tone coming off harsher than you intended to. chifuyu nods slowly, face soon replaced with an apologetic look. “i’m sorry for missing your birthday, i feel horrible really,” he begun. “ i know i haven’t been around lately, so i want to make it up to you.” 

your brows furrowed at chifuyu’s apology, you knew he was being so sincere so why did you feel even much more upset hearing it? “that’s it? you could’ve just done this in school tomorrow chifuyu.”you sighed, trying your hardest to mask the pettiness within you with a tired voice. “ i know i know, but i couldn’t sleep knowing that i left my best friend alone on her 18th birthday.” he looked at you hesitantly as you quietly pulled your duvet over your lap. “how about let’s go hiking and watch the sunrise this weekend? just the two of us. i know you’ve been wanting to do that.” 

you wished you weren’t in love with chifuyu so that you wouldn’t give in so easily. you wished you were petty enough to make a scene and just be angry at him but you couldn't so here you are right now, hiking up the trail with your hand in chifuyu’s as you helped him up the slope. “your stamina really sucks,” you retorted to which chifuyu huffed in response. “it’s not that my stamina sucks, it’s that this trail is literally ninety-eight percent high slopes,” he pouts. 

“well you could've chose not to show up.” 

“no! i want to do this with you. what are you talking about?” 

you only smiled at his little defence. “whatever,” you mumbled as you quickly dropped your grip on his and walking ahead of him in an attempt to hide your blush. “hey! wait for me!” 

it was near autumn when one day chifuyu appeared in the wee hours of the night with tears streaming down his cheeks when he fell into your arms and hugged you tightly. you found out that haru was moving away to the states with her family and had broken up with chifuyu, refusing to try out long distance relationship. 

so like any other best friend, you let chifuyu cry into your shoulders as you sat in silence that night, heart breaking at the torn state chifuyu was in. he truly loved her. 

you were twenty when chifuyu held your hands and asked you to be his. 

“chifuyu matsuno! where the hell are my batteries?” your voice echoed through your shared apartment, causing poor chifuyu to jump and drop the eggs he was previously holding in his hands on to the floor. it’s been almost two years since haru and chifuyu had broken up and you had spent a great deal of time trying to mend his broken heart though you knew that it would never be fully healed. she was his first love after all. 

the two of you had moved in to a small apartment close to your university as planned since young, officially becoming roommates. “fuck!my eggs!” chifuyu cried out loud as he frantically lets go of the spatula in his hands to grab a kitchen tower and clean up the pool of egg yolk and egg white on the marble floor. you groaned in annoyance when chifuyu doesn’t answer your question, slamming the tools drawer shut and making your way towards the kitchen. 

“i swear chi-” you paused when you saw chifuyu kneeling on the floor with his pink kitten design apron tied against his body, a pout clearly evident on his lips. “what ever happened?” your head tilted slightly, annoyance slowly decimating. “you screamed like a mad woman. that’s what happened.” he retorted. you rolled your eyes, grabbing another kitchen towel and joining chifuyu on the ground. “well if you didn’t misplace my batteries, i wouldn't be screaming.” 

“if you looked close enough, it’s literally on your study desk.” 

“it’s not!” 

“it is!” 

“it’s not!” you huffed, getting up and stomping over to your room to prove a point but your eyes widened, horrified by the pure sight of your batteries accompanies by a fresh pack with a sticky note attached on top of it. ‘you’re welcome <3′, it wrote. you slowly walked out of your room with your head hung low, doing the walk of shame. “say it,” chifuyu taunts as he skilfully tossed the omelette onto the plate and placing it in front of you. you scrunched your nose, lips pursing and taking a deep breath. “i’m sorry,” you mumbled quietly, fingers fumbling at the ends of your shirt. “ah-ah i can't hear you,” you hear him sing, a little too happy. obvious that he’s enjoying this. you sighed in defeat, clearing your throat loud enough. “i’m sorry,” you said it loudly this time. 

chifuyu lets out a laugh in satisfaction, throwing his head back while you on the other hand could only pout at his triumph. but that didn’t mean that your heart didn't swell up at the expression of happiness he has on his face right now. digging in at the breakfast that chifuyu had made for you which had now became a routine, you couldn't help but to feel small under chifuyu’s intense stare on you. “are you not gonna eat?” you raised your brow, eyeing the untouched omelette on his plate. chifuyu rests his chin on his palm, looking at you with a look of as if he had something to tell you. 

“i will.” he hummed before reaching out to grab your hands. your body stiffened, dumfounded at what’s currently happening. “you know, for the last two years, life was a little less painful thanks to you.” chifuyu confessed earnestly, “ i guess what i’m trying to say is that, you’re my end game y/n l/n. i don’t think i would've came this far if it wasn’t for you so i’m going to ask you this once,” he paused, intertwining his fingers in yours as he gazes into your eyes deeply, 

“will you be my girlfriend?” 

your relationship with chifuyu wasn’t a perfect one but the two of you always made it work somehow. which is why here you are sitting against your bed frame with luggages packed by the side wondering what exactly had gone wrong along the way? 

and you realised that you were never meant to be chifuyu’s end game. you were never meant to be his forever. 

“you think that i don’t fucking know that you were always looking at her instagram when you think i’m not around?” you screamed, body shaking from the exhaustion that’s taking a toll on you both physically and emotionally. “i don’t see how it’s wrong wanting to see how my friend is doing?” chifuyu snaps. 

you scoffed, crossing your arms as you looked away. “yeah. as if you don’t still say her name in your sleep. as if you don’t fucking mess up our favourite food, as if you didn’t tell takemichi that you wished i was haru!” this was the last straw for you. you were too exhausted to try anymore. haru was irreplaceable and you were just a temporary band aid for chifuyu. 

it was as if you had hit jack pot when your lover went silent. “i’ve loved you for so long chifuyu. but loving you hurts too much. i’m so tired of this.” you finally allowed yourself to break down, letting yourself go loose on the emotions you’ve suppressed for years as chifuyu could only watch in remorse for tearing you apart till this state. 

you finally understood why the apple tree never bloomed any apples.

you were twenty seven when you decided to leave chifuyu matsuno. fifteen years of friendship and seven years of being each other’s significant other. you finally walked away, planting one last final kiss on chifuyu’s lips and shutting the door on your ex-lover’s sleeping figure. 

[warmau]

☆ [nostalgic] summer romance!au doyoung late birthday post for mr. kim! i am never on time for these posts, apologies.  find others here: johnny | haechan | taeil | taeyong | mark | jaemin | yangyang | yuta | sicheng | chenle | kun | yukhei

a sinking feeling has you rooted to the floor. staring at the lock of your front door as someone knocks politely over and over again.

“what are you doing?”

your mother’s voice gusts past you like a breeze, she leans over your frozen figure and turns the knob.

you step back to avoid being hit by the door and dread the light that washes over your mothers face

“doyoung! come in!”

he steps through and all you catch is a bit of side profile, hidden behind the gigantic plant he’s holding

“oh! that’s the orchid your mother was just up in a fit about? come here sweetie, place it on the kitchen table -”

his footsteps echo and you shrink a little, he didn’t even look at me. 

you’re thankful for your mothers insolent obsession with being a good host and trudge your way back to your room

doyoung is in your house. 

which is weird, the first time he was in your house - you knew, obviously, but he was uninvited. your mother didn’t welcome him through the door.

now - for the past month - after both his mother and yours had come to a unbreakable bond over their indoor houseplants 

doyoung has very much been a presence, an invited presence, a presence everyone but you seemed to be delighted about

“he’s such a nice boy, he’s spending his summers tutoring younger kids and i see him biking all around town.”

your mother gushes almost every time at dinner after doyoung leaves - delivering whatever ailing plant his mother has sent to yours to fix and play botanist with

you pick at your food

yeah, he’s a nice boy. that’s what makes this all so much worse.

now - you’re laying on your sheets with your hand on your stomach and staring up at the wall thinking very much the same thought.

he’s so nice, and so perfect, and everything anyone ever dreams of. why am i such an idiot for not wanting that?

you drum your fingers and again spiral back into the memory that keeps itself wedged between you and him like a piece of food that’s stuck so sternly between teeth, no pushing at it with your tongue helps.

summer starts in ten days, officially you know - by the university calendar. you’re supposed to be focusing on a final paper for some elective politics class you took, but you’re not. you’re staring at the back of doyoung’s neck. he sits in front of you for most lectures.

“hey, do you know anything about this military-first politics and nuclear armament essay prompt the professor gave us?”

doyoung turns slowly, blinking at you from behind his thin-wired classes, “yeah - it’s been the topic of discussion and reading for like a week.”

you know you sound kind of stupid to even ask - but you will admit, politics isn’t your thing and it seems to really be doyoungs - so you smile, with a please pity me kind of look in your eye. doyoung sighs, but he gets up and slides into the seat beside you - opening up the half blank word document on your laptop.

that’s it. that’s all it was going to be. doyoung helping you skid by, so that your summer isn’t ruined by a shitty grade. 

but that’s not what happens. at all. 

doyoung instead spends a lot of time helping you write a good enough paper to pull through a B-. 

that means a lot of alone time in the library, in study hall, in the empty halls of the school buildings where classes have ended and no one is around.

it’s a lot of being shoulder to shoulder with him, realizing how nice he always smells - how long his fingers are when they type - how he doesn’t have a significant other because no one except his friends ever end up interrupting you.

it’s the day after you get your grades for the semester, something about getting the paper back sparks a fire in you

you scope doyoung out at the coffeeshop and exclaim that you and him did it!

a couple of heads whip around, did it?, you quickly add some mumbling about the paper.

doyoung laughs, it’s the first time you’ve heard the genuine sound, because most of the time he just makes a half-sided smirk or chuckle.

you buy him an iced latte as repayment and somehow end up walking out of there with side by side.

doyoung asks if you live near by if you don’t dorm, you say you do. he does too. that’s weird - you’ve never seen him around the neighborhood.

after that you pretend it’s a blur. because truth be told it isn’t.

you and doyoung are going to be taking the same train anyway, why not take it together. you and doyoung are going to know the same little places around town, why not talk about them.

why not? why not? why not? 

why not invite him inside when you’re back in your hometown, why not lead him up to your room just so he can see it and why not kiss him when he leans over you.

people your age do it all the time, they hookup. that’s the only answer to that stupid hanging ‘why not?’

so when you felt doyoung’s fingers graze down your side and he’d clumsily gotten his glasses off just in time for you to pull his shirt up over his head 

you were convinced it meant nothing. you were convinced he thought the same.

then it all happens and you can’t take it back. 

especially not the part where you’re laying on your bed, just like you are now, waiting for doyoung to start gathering his things and instead a hand loops around your sweaty waist.

“aren’t you going to leave?”

the words blurt out of your mouth before you even think about it. 

the tension that stalled in the room had been so horrible you swore you’d felt it seep into every pore, damn near trickling itself down the walls.

doyoung had darkened, pulled himself away from you, and disappeared before you could string together your next thought.

part of you had been relieved, the other part felt like the biggest asshole on the planet.

you were just grateful the rest of the summer could easily be passed by keeping away from each other - until your mother had found her new best friend.

downstairs you can hear doyoung shuffling around with your mothers plants, you can’t make out what they’re saying, but you’re sure your mother is inviting him to stay and eat with you. asking doyoung about his amazing future plans to become a lawyer. enthralled by everything he is as a child and that you, most likely, are not.

when he finally leaves and the commotions die down you can’t get up

this is the most confusing moment. 

not the whole ignoring each other when he pops over, not the whole reliving the past from just a glimpse. 

it’s why - when it happened, you had been so content with it just staying nothing - you had been the one to make that decision for the both of you

yet

why does it seem like you’re wallowing in it, clinging to it, imaging it all over

every time he comes over

because you didn’t just want a hook-up. you wanted doyoung and were playing it off because having a crush on him isn’t worth it right?

your mind coils itself through a storm

you thought he only wanted to sleep with you too, because the thought of someone as good as doyoung liking you just doesn’t make sense?

despite the summer heat, you feel cold

you’re not good enough to actually be liked, to be the person doyoung chooses for something more than just your-

your phone rings and you sit up so fast it gives you a headache, you feel around and bring it to your ear without checking the number

“hello?”

“our mothers are trying to set us up on a date.”

you want to be anywhere in the world, but here. 

doyoung’s blank expression doesn’t let you know if he feels the same, but the way he won’t get in at least eight feet of you is telling enough.

you’re in his backyard, well technically you’re in his neighbors backyard, because he doesn’t want to be visible behind the hedges

rather be caught dead than be next to me, right? 

you shrill at yourself and try to bury the wince you make internally

“i think you should just tell them you have another boyfriend.”

“i can’t lie to my mother.”

you start and doyoung watches you chew on your lower lip and retreat defensively a step back

“why not?”

“she’s noisy - she’ll find out. she’ll insist until i die to meet this ‘other boyfriend’. plus i’m not a good liar.”

“really? could have fooled me.”

doyoung straightens himself as he says that, eyes unblinking behind the frames of his glasses

i probably deserve that. well actually-

“doyoung, i never promised you anything when we-”

the words wilt and doyoung suddenly looks over his shoulder.

“you’re right, you never promised me anything. im the one who was a fool for ever thinking it was something.”

you look at the grass. 

you wonder, if you had not said that one sentence - aren’t you going to leave - would this summer be different?

would you and doyoung be spending every second together, holding each other at the beach? kissing under the fireworks? sharing ice-cream and diving into pools filled of water and your laughter?

the thought blooms something in your chest

i wish - i wish it was that.

“you say i should lie, but you’re pretty good at it too doyoung.”

“excuse me?”

“it’s not like you - it’s not like you really wanted it to be anything more than it was.”

you think the grass is going to burst into flames with how hard you’re concentrating on it.

“what, you’re telling me-” you swallow “you’re telling me you actually wanted to be with me after? our mothers are trying to get us to go on a date and you called me out here just to avoid that.”

he leans forward

“if you are trying to make me the only guilty party here-”

he’s closer and you feel your voice shake a little, but you try to push to the end of your thought.

“im not, you never made any effort to make it seem like you had any genuine emotion so am i so wrong for just assuming it was just se-”

his hands, large and gentle, manage to find your shoulders and doyoung presses his lips to yours 

you stiffen from the external shock, but then relax under the light grip

his breath smells sweet, like he’s been chewing bubblegum, he’s wearing the same cologne he does at university

“i don’t just sleep with people.” 

he whispers against your mouth

“nothing against it, but i don’t think there’s a point to sharing something intimate with someone who i don’t want in every possible way.”

when you and doyoung agree to go on a date - both your mothers lose it. they’re convinced you’re soulmates.

although you and doyoung both agree they’re thinking way too far ahead in the future - it doesn’t mask the fact that the attraction that ends up forming between you two is undeniable

doyoung is so determined and intently goal orientated that you would think there isn’t the capacity to have fun in one bone in his body, but that’s not true

when he’s comfortable, he’s charming and full of humor - he makes you double over with laughter more than you could have imagined

and you aren’t as spacey and shy as doyoung might have assumed either, you have a competitive streak and you make doyoung feel like this is the summer of his life

the summer of his life that someone could probably make a decent coming of age film out of

he brings it up after you two exit a movie that was just about the same topic and you look down at your hands intertwined and shake your head

“no they’d never cast the right people to play us.”

doyoung sees the reflection of the milky way in your eyes, but he doesn’t say it

“no one on this planet is like you.”

he returns this sentiment with a small kiss that bumps this glasses against the bridge of your nose.

you get nervous sometimes when you think about how the summer started, it’s not like you’re living in the middle ages where intimacy is a sin before eternal commitment or anything

no you just get nervous because the reason you ever even made that situation as bad as it was, was because of your insecurity

does doyoung actually like me? did two weeks of being together at school make him realize something about me is worth it?

you can’t ask him that - even though sometimes you want to, so you can explain why you hadn’t just rolled over and nuzzled yourself into the dip of his chest

much like you do now - you fit so perfectly right between his arms

instead it sometimes gnaws at you until doyoung is cleaning his glasses over your sink and you’re sitting in the bathtub looking at him

your parents are ironically over at doyoungs for some wine party or whatever and although your mothers are in awe about you two being “a cute lil couple” 

they see that - cute, part of it makes you snort. you and doyoung sometimes act more mature than they do.

“i always knew you were staring at me in lecture.” he starts and a little smirk pulls at his long lips

you flick some of the water at him and he leans against the counter

he doesn’t like baths, he prefers showers, but he still stays in the room with you when you take them 

“i wasn’t staring at you.”

“you were staring at the back of my neck.”

you look away because fair, not like he spends a lot of time looking away from the professor.

“so i knew you liked me, or something about me. that’s why it hurt.”

“when we-”

“yes and i like being logical, so not having a real answer for why that all happened like it did still haunts me.”

he tilts his head and you see the line of his thin collarbones through his shirt

“i thought you’d say it first.”

he blinks

“i thought you’d say something like, that was cool. ill see you at uni come fall. and then leave. so i mean, i didn’t even say go leave - i asked, aren’t you going to leave?”

doyoung is smart so he gets what you’re saying in the most roundabout way possible

he walks over and squats down, leans over the ridge of the bath to kiss you and doesn’t complain when you bring your soapy hands up to cradle his neck

“im sorry i did leave, i should have just said what i felt right there.” 

he mutters and you nod. you should have said it too.

when you and doyoung graduate and he goes on to law school and you start working, you almost break up - twice - because of the stress

but somehow neither of you can ever ask the other one

aren’t you going to leave?

because neither of you ever really wants to.

so you don’t, you stay through all the hardships, through every argument and bump in the road. 

you stay, you choose to stay and so does he and you might not even fall asleep next to each other on some days but the heat of the person you love is always there.

and then doyoung gets his first big promotion at his job, runs all the way home with the news and ends up breathing hard and talking nonsense to you in your shared kitchen

“you need a shower.”

you say, wiping the sweat from his forehead as he shakes his head, no. he needs a bath.

you lean back against his chest, stronger and broader as he’s aged. 

he looks down at you and even the eyebags that have gotten darker with all that work he does don’t do anything to make him less attractive

you peck his chin, because it’s what you can reach.

“if we sit here any longer we’re going to prune.”

“are you going to be the first one to leave?”

he asks and you shake your head. 

you’ll sit here forever if that’s what it takes.

on the counter of the bathroom, there’s one of the houseplants your mothers keeps shipping to you. 

you don’t notice that it’s the same orchid that doyoung carried into your house all those years ago, when you thought he hadn’t even looked at you when your mother opened the door.

he curls a strand of your wet hair around his finger.

he had looked at you, quickly, but he had done it. 

even half covered by orchid leaves, you’d made his mouth dry. 

“no seriously though - we will prune.”

“i’ll get up if you get up?”

i’ll never leave, the only way i’ll leave is if it means im taking you with me.