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chocosvt · 1 month

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HER | part six (m).

✧✎ synopsis: wonwoo, a heartbroken and burnt out writer nearing the end of his math degree, wants nothing to do with the seemingly perfect, intimidating girl who has everyone under her thumb. you. unfortunately, his literary talent has got him shoved him between a rock and a hard place when you want to write a book and require his expertise. you two are the furthest from compatible. wonwoo can’t see this going well. at all.

pairing: wonwoo x fem!reader word count: 22.6k genres/tropes: writer!wonwoo, university!au, plug!vernon + boyfriend!mingyu as prominent side characters, SLOWBURN (i am not fucking around this is my slowest burn yet), relationship drama, soul searching, strong angst/hurt (i’m coming for the jugular), comfort, romance, smut, a smoothie of every emotion on earth.

(!) warnings: drug use (weed, cocaine, ecstasy), wonwoo has anxiety + anxiety attacks + fairly dark thoughts, prescribed medication, gambling, intense language, infidelity, throwing up.

✧✎ a/n: just some quick things i want to make apparent!

the fic is told from wonwoo’s pov, not the reader’s!

all major timeline events are organized through chronological dates

any smut or potentially triggering scenes are NOT MARKED bc the content is already quite mature, so just plz be aware of that!

bolded and italicized text implies the characters are conversing in korean, tho it doesn’t happen often!

the fic in its entirety is 140k, so it has been split into 6 parts.

here it is... the FINAL part 😭 it seemed that a number of you were quite worried as to how i'd wrap this up, and i can finally give you the answer! :3 this has been an epic journey. thank yew for ur time 💕

more rambling continues at the very end. as per usual. again, a little bit more of an early upload! as a treat <3

⇢ part one | part two | part three | part four | part five ⇢ soundtrack for those curious! ⇢ read at ur own pace! :)

—SEPTEMBER 30TH.

The morning after was strange.

Early sunlight permeated through the living room’s white cloth curtains, dappling in water-like speckles against the glasses still held on his nose. For a moment, Wonwoo was frozen, as his mind made the shift from deep sleep to consciousness, though when he finally did awaken to find his blanket half-pushed off the recliner and the remnants of Chinese takeout left scattered across the coffee table, his lethargy started fading.

Vernon was gone.

Judging from the text on Wonwoo’s phone, the boy had quietly made his way out at around seven in the morning. It surprised Wonwoo to no end that Vernon could manage to sleep so little yet remain fully functional all the time. He seemed magic—or maybe it was something else that Wonwoo would be concerned to know about.

He spent some time cleaning off the coffee table.

Down the hall, his bedroom door remained closed.

When you finally did emerge, it was with the olive-green dress draped over your arm and the ivory heels in hand, which you proceeded to arrange on the small dining table by the kitchen.

Notably, however, there was something off about you, something that Wonwoo interpreted as nerves with an underlying awkwardness you didn’t typically, if at all, demonstrate. When he asked if you wanted breakfast and tea, your response was a tiny head shake and a poorly fit smile. Though, Wonwoo wasn’t going to paw at you.

He found that mornings always tended to be quite sobering, even if he hadn’t exactly drunk enough to make the room spin or swallowed some colourfully disguised pill on his tongue. Just the air was enough to rewire his head—that cooler, crisp air that he either loved or hated.

Undoubtedly, you had much to think about.

Wonwoo helped you get a hold of Princess using his phone, and the two of you watched television in silence while waiting for her to pick you up. He escorted you down through the pottery shop when it was time, and you sported very little shame, walking out onto the bright city sidewalk in just his t-shirt, clothes and shoes wrapped in your arms. Princess had this awfully perplexed look slapped onto her face while leaning over to nudge the car door open for you, and in that moment, Wonwoo was scared of how it all appeared and what might transpire now that the giddiness and frivolity from the night before had ebbed away. He didn’t regret anything, though. Not at all.

But, in truth, what the fuck even were you two?

And what was supposed to happen now?

—OCTOBER 3RD.

Since you had left his apartment in a daze that Saturday morning, Wonwoo hadn’t seen or heard from you. It was concerning him as time passed, he couldn’t deny it, but he also trusted you and wanted not to make you feel pressured into explaining yourself.

He was caught in a brisk walk along campus after leaving his early lecture, a warm coffee cup pressed against his lip that he had grabbed from the ground floor of SRX—they had been giving hot drinks away for free, and, consequently, it tasted like it. Nonetheless, the air was chillier by the day as autumn pushed its way in and decorated the walkway with dry leaves that rustled and crunched under his shoes. It was nice to have something hot in his hand.

He took a second to glance down at his phone.

Still, no messages from you, Wonwoo realized with a suckling sip of the very watery coffee, nearly tempted to text you himself—not anything pushy—just a simple reassurance that he was there for you if things weren’t going well.

Suddenly, however, Wonwoo had smacked into someone.

“Fuck—sorry,” he muttered, readjusting the computer bag slung over his shoulder and pushing up his circled glasses.

To Wonwoo’s complete and utter misery, he was unfortunately acquainted with the person he’d bumped shoulders, and now he was wishing that he had just kept walking like an impatient asshole.

Seokmin was standing before him, dressed in a similar-style woolen trench coat that his hands were stuffed into, the sun turning certain threads of his chocolate brown hair all shimmery. He hadn’t gotten back to Seokmin’s numerous texts ever since Wonwoo sent a brief, very purposefully vague message to the boy that night he ran out with you at the dinner party.

Now he was wondering if the shoulder bump was intentional.

“Wonwoo… uh, hey,” Seokmin stumbled.

Sniffling, Wonwoo let a second or two pass before answering.

He was still debating whether or not to walk away.

“What’s up?”

“You just get out of class, or?”

Wonwoo nodded. “Yeah—advanced stats.”

Seokmin flitted a barely-there smile, staring at his coffee cup.

“Is that the free stuff from SRX?”

“Indeed.”

“How does it taste?”

“Uh, watery… like shit, basically.”

Wonwoo knew—he fucking knew—that there was something buzzing on the tip of Seokmin’s tongue that he just couldn’t spit out. His absentminded expression and clear not-giving-a-damness about whether Wonwoo’s free coffee was actually good completely betrayed him. Not wanting to dawdle and get stuck in the mud of conversation, Wonwoo swallowed the lump in his throat, flashed his friend a tight-lipped smile, and pitched a goodbye, blandly wording it as, “I won’t keep you. Later.”

But Seokmin didn’t seem prepared to let that happen.

And Wonwoo’s eyes nearly rolled backward into his skull when the boy turned around and attempted to catch his attention again.

For some stupid, incomprehensible reason, Wonwoo stopped.

Maybe he knew the conversation needed to happen.

It only made him loathe the situation more.

“Yeah?”

Seokmin dragged a hand through his hair, brushing it up and down against the back of his head while he squinted at Wonwoo.

“I think… uh… if you’re not busy… I think there’s maybe some stuff we need to talk about. I don’t mean to like, catch you at a bad time or anything… do you wanna go sit at the picnic table over there?”

At Seokmin’s carefully suggested inquiry, Wonwoo followed the boy’s pointing finger toward the empty table placed on the large grass circle that the walkway wove around. With his grip hardening into the coffee cup, Wonwoo stopped to think despite knowing his answer.

“Okay… yeah.”

Wonwoo realized it had never felt this weird and stilted to sit down with Seokmin despite him being quite a reliable friend over the months, though Wonwoo was developing the sneaking feeling that his study buddy was about to deal an irreparable blow to their relationship. Seokmin’s folded hands were sitting atop the flecked, aged wood of the table, thumbs nervously twiddling, meanwhile Wonwoo remained silent to sip from his coffee that only became more and more tasteless.

Eventually, his friend seemed to find the words he needed.

“So, I don’t know if you’ve heard… but… Her and Mingyu are taking a break. They’re officially pressing the big pause button. I wasn’t there to witness the conversation, although I get the gist it was a pretty… uh, unpleasant talk,” Seokmin winced, bracing his teeth, “and… well, naturally, I learned that you were a big part of that talk, seeing how it looked and all—you and Her running out at the dinner party…”

He left what seemed like a purposeful pause, and Wonwoo assumed that he was supposed to feel pressured and jump to make a correction or provide an explanation, but he kept silent and rather expressionless. Ironically, Seokmin was the one to continue his spiel.

“Well, basically, there were some accusations thrown around as you can imagine. And I’m not sitting here to point a finger and question you to death about everything, but I just thought I’d give you the table—uh, literally—to explain what’s been happening.”

Wonwoo finally set aside his drink, then shifting off the strap to his computer bag, letting it fall down his shoulder. He didn’t make a huge, overwhelmed sigh even though his body was screaming for it, nor did he ponder abandoning the conversation despite the magnitude of everything Seokmin laid out for him.

Fuck—he hated being matured.

“I can’t speak on her feelings. But I like her.”

“Oh—you do?” Seokmin was astonishingly surprised.

Wonwoo shrugged. “Yeah.”

“So, then, does that mean—”

“Actually, sorry, I’m downplaying it like a coward,” Wonwoo interrupted, shaking his head, “I don’t just like her. I’m in love with her.”

It was then that Seokmin simply didn’t speak at all. His mouth had formed a hollowed shape, resembling something like a gulping fish, and Wonwoo capitalized on the silence to keep his thoughts fluent.

“I understand, okay? I understand why Mingyu is pissed. It takes two to tango, I get all that. And I know you probably want me to state my regret and all that so I don’t seem like such an asshole, but, honestly, I don’t really regret anything. Mingyu doesn’t care about her.”

Seokmin chuffed, rubbing at his chin. “Okay… I don’t know if I would go as far as to say that in particular. But you are admitting to it? I don’t know what it is you’ve done but you’ve done things with Her.”

“We’ve never had sex if that’s what you’re asking.”

“And—”

“We’ve never kissed, either… the only thing I was supposed to do was help her write that little love story. Which you set up, by the way. I didn’t know it would turn into this. I tried to get out of it.”

“I never thought she would stick it out.”

“I know.” Wonwoo sucked in his bottom lip, staring across the weathered wood at Seokmin. “You probably wanted her to drop it the second she mentioned it. I bet Mingyu thought the same.”

Seokmin scrunched up his face in disagreement. “That’s not necessarily true. She just fixates on stuff and then burns out after. She's always been like that, ever since I've known her. I figured the book would be no different. I thought it was something she needed to get out of her system, I didn’t think it would start rolling and—” he leaned forward into his palms for a moment, swallowing audibly. “Sorry, I just—I don’t get it, that’s all. I don’t get her fixations.”

“I think you’re just uncomfortable with her self-expression.”

“She—it’s not self-expression, though. Look, I know a pinch of what her story is about. It’s not about herself. It’s about Mingyu.”

“You think that just because she’s writing about someone else, there’s no pieces of herself in it? Her own feelings? Her own perspective? C’mon, Seokmin. You’re fucking smarter than that. You know what it's actually about.”

His friend’s eyes drifted away from him.

Wonwoo then cleared his throat. “Look, you don’t really need all the details, Seokmin. Like I said, I don’t know exactly how she feels about me. I can surmise. I can say we’ve had moments that we shouldn’t. But—genuinely—you probably know more than I do and you’re lying to yourself if you can’t realize that Mingyu is just some advantageous prick who makes her miserable.”

“Well, I think that—I don’t know if it’s really—”

“He walked into an opportunity with her and he knew it. His whole fucking life and career was basically set up for him the second he met her family. He’s beyond lucky Her ever looked his way.”

“Jeez, Wonwoo. Honestly, it’s not like that.”

“How is it not?”

Seokmin ran a hand through his hair, appearing flustered and without a tongue to make sense. “Just—okay—I’ve been around them a lot. I know how it seems from an outsider’s view. They can argue and push buttons. Their relationship isn’t perfect, but whose is? Mingyu didn’t just walk into the family asking for this and that—he’s never asked for anything, no handouts. Everything that’s been ‘set up’ for him was because Her’s family wanted it. They know he’s a good guy.”

The scoff shot from Wonwoo’s mouth like an arrow. “I’m sorry but, what do they want for Her? Were we at the same dinner party? Did you see her nearly burst into tears? She has to live life in this rigid box, trying to conform to everyone else around her. Don’t you think she wants to live her own life? Be her own person?”

“Of course, but—”

“No—why is there even a ‘but’?”

“I don’t think you understand. Her has everything she needs.”

“You mean, what everyone thinks she needs.” Wonwoo tossed his hand up in the air, laughing, while also getting the strong impulse to ring out his friend’s neck. “It doesn’t make any sense to me. How can you be so close to her, but you don’t realize how unhappy she is? You know what I think? You’re part of it, Seokmin. You're always in her business, hovering, watching, sewing seeds of doubt, shooting down her interests—and you disguise it as help. No one in that house listens to her. They’ve told her who she should be instead of letting her figure it out for herself. How can you be so complicit in that? She gets no support from any of you, about the decisions in her life that actually matter. And Mingyu—honestly, he can go fuck himself. He’s just as complicit as you. He’s soul-sucking.”

“God—sh-she’s an adult.” Seokmin was exasperated, his cheeks reddening like two ripe apples. “She doesn’t have to visit her parents. She doesn’t have to date Mingyu. Nothing is forced on her. No one is dragging her there. I help because I know what she's capable of. I know the perfect life she can have. Her parents know, too. But she just gets sidetracked! She gets wrapped up in stuff that doesn't matter! If she hates everything, she can easily walk away.”

“But you guys have made that so impossible for her.”

“How?”

Wonwoo proceeded to clench his fist up so tight he thought his skin might bleed, the edge of his knuckles pressing down on the table.

“She doesn’t know who the fuck she is.”

Seokmin instantly paled. He looked whiter than a snowflake.

“That’s like clipping a bird’s wings and then asking why it can’t fly away. Knowing who you are is such a big part of life. It’s arguably the foundation. What the fuck do you want her to do? I don’t even—I honestly don’t even want to look at you, Seokmin. Let Mingyu beat me up if he wants to—let it happen a thousand times—” slinging the computer bag back over his shoulder, Wonwoo was rising from the picnic table while glaring down at the stiff, empty-faced Seokmin, who had suddenly morphed from a friend to a bitter stranger, “—I don’t care what he thinks. It’s not going to change how I feel about her, or make me stay away. I’ve seen who she can be and what she actually wants from life, and it's not some snotty, vapid, copy-and-paste hell that her parents are forcing on her. But neither of you seem to give a shit. You’re both completely undeserving.”

Stepping away from the bench, Wonwoo tensed his jaw as the sunlight splashed over him, breaking in between the skeletal trees and their resilient orange leaves. “Got everything you wanted to know? Go run it back to Mingyu. I’m sure that’s what you were gonna do anyway.”

The anger in his chest felt like it was going to crawl out from his mouth and squeeze Seokmin into a ball, therefore Wonwoo exercised his breathing while on a strict path back down the walkway.

Abandoning Seokmin did hurt him more than he had thought, knowing he just lost a friend from his already very limited circle, someone whom he clicked with so readily. At the same time, however, there was a lightness about it. As Wonwoo’s frustration seeped out during the walk back to his apartment, some of the weight pressed into his shoulders released itself like water evaporating from a blacktop.

He just wished he could be at your side more than anything.

There was obviously a reason for your silence.

[ Wonwoo | 11:28 am ]: I heard about the break.

[ Wonwoo | 11:28 am ]: I’m here if you need anything at all.

…

[ Her | 4:05 pm ]: you talked to seokmin?

[ Wonwoo | 4:07 pm ]: Yeah. Never again.

[ Her | 4:07 pm ]: mingyu is so mad

[ Wonwoo | 4:07 pm ]: I figure.

[ Her | 4:08 pm ]: please avoid him if you can. i’m worried

[ Wonwoo | 4:08 pm ]: I’m not.

[ Her | 4:08 pm ]: wonwoo he’s seriously pissed

[ Her | 4:08 pm ]: can’t you hang out with vernon some more

[ Wonwoo | 4:09 pm ]: Seriously?

[ Her | 4:09 pm ]: yes

[ Her | 4:09 pm ]: mingyu got into trouble with dots and had a real big scare. so he doesn’t like to mess much with him or his friends. he'll showboat but that's about it

[ Her | 4:09 pm ]: well ik dots died but u get the point

[ Wonwoo | 4:10 pm ]: Fair.

[ Wonwoo | 4:10 pm ]: But I can’t just pull Vernon around as my Mingyu repellent lol. Honestly, if he wants to rock me, idc.

[ Her | 4:10 pm ]: well I do care

[ Her | 4:10 pm ]: ugh

[ Her | 4:11 pm ]: life has been sucking so hard lately

[ Wonwoo | 4:11 pm ]: I want to come see you.

[ Her | 4:11 pm ]: I want that too. but I need more time, k?

[ Wonwoo | 4:12 pm ]: I know.

[ Wonwoo | 4:12 pm ]: Here if you need me.

—OCTOBER 18TH.

For the past two weeks, Wonwoo had been walking around with the looming possibility of getting jumped by your six-foot tall, rather muscley boyfriend, and he was thus very relieved to have made it this far without eating a fist to the face. Well, now Mingyu was an ex.

Maybe.

The pause in your relationship read like a gray area that Wonwoo had been treading the thinnest eggshells on, prompting him to wait and hear the truth from you directly whenever you felt steady enough to tell him. He wondered if today might be that day.

Placing another strawberry onto the cutting board, Wonwoo chopped his knife through the leafy green bit, removing the stem. The cleaned-up strawberry was then dropped into a bowl of fresh ones that you had been picking away at for the past few minutes or so.

Wonwoo smiled while grabbing another berry to cut.

“I feel like this bowl hasn’t gotten any fuller, for some reason.”

Your legs were swinging as you sat atop the small kitchen island while looking down at his every movement with the knife. Once he dropped another cut strawberry into the bowl, you scooped it out.

“Just making sure they don’t go bad,” you responded, shrugging.

He raised an eyebrow at you. “The fruit you buy usually goes bad within the minute? Are you getting into a fist fight with it?”

You poked at his hip with your socked foot. “Well, you said you were cutting it for me. So can I eat it or not? I’m getting mixed signals.”

“No, of course you can eat it. I’m just teasing.”

“I don’t do too well with delayed gratification.”

Wonwoo smiled at you, proceeding to remove the last few strawberries from the basket to cleanly dissect their stems. He then turned around, tossing the cutting board and knife into the stainless-steel sink with a clatter. After washing his hands, he was back at the island, noticing that the bowl was now seated in your lap like a bag of movie theatre popcorn with just the perfect amount of butter and salt. For a moment, Wonwoo didn’t say anything—that focused look to your face as you ate the fruit he prepared was much too captivating. He wanted to catch one of your swinging legs, pull you right to the counter’s very edge and have you wrap yourself around him. He wanted everything with you.

In your earlier days together, Wonwoo used to be a lot more evasive about his staring (at least, that’s what he wanted to believe), but now he didn’t feel as required to be so painfully subtle and imperceptible about things. He let you snack until you were satisfied, the empty bowl then being exchanged with a damp rag to clean your fingers.

“So,” clearing his throat, Wonwoo braced his hands against the granite island and glanced at you from behind his glasses, scanning down the unbothered, relatively straight face you had, “everything going okay?”

Pressing your lips together, you nodded, making only an “mhm” sound that didn’t leave much to be interpreted.

Wonwoo saw the hands that plunged swiftly between your thighs, how you were quick to squeeze around them, like there existed something weighted and hidden.

He wanted to leave it up to your discretion—he really did.

“Okay, that’s good… just—uh, he’s not giving you a hard time, right? He’s not bothering you at all?” Wonwoo asked, adjusting the rim of the black beanie he’d thrown on to keep his messy hair tucked back. “I don’t mean to disinter anything. I’m only asking because I—”

“Because you care,” you finished his sentence quietly with a trusting and faint smile, “I know. Thank you. It is hard for me, though… I don’t know why this particular thing is so hard but it is.”

Wonwoo slid his hands together, moving them slow along the cold granite. “No… that’s understandable. I get it plenty.” Hell—he didn’t just get it—Wonwoo had miserably and insufferably lived it for damn near a year at that point. In fact, tomorrow would mark the day that he came home to this same apartment only to discover the interior stripped of all the traces, sentiments, and artifacts that breathed miraculous life into the girl he once thought to be his other half.

A whole fucking year without Jeanie.

How flipped things were. How oddly coincidental that he was now in the same space but with a new person to create everlasting memories. You had the most opposite personality and spark.

Wonwoo sighed. He got close to you, settling his hand atop your knee before gliding it underneath your thigh, gripping at you firmly and pulling you forward until he was bracketed in between your legs. Your response was smitten, and he couldn’t deny that he loved to practically see your heart beating under your chest in addition to sensing the warmth that flourished off your skin like you were sizzling in a pan.

Wonwoo set one hand down on the counter, right next to your hip, while the other tended to the side of your face, his fingers running behind your ear and down the slender path to your silk-smooth neck.

“Look…” he breathed out, finding your eyes that were now a bit watery and tinged with stinging emotion, “I know it’s hard. And I would never rush you into figuring things out… but I like you…” Wonwoo swallowed, letting his thumb play with your earring meanwhile his deep voice triggered the sharp, raised hairs spreading down your arms like an electric current, “I love spending time with you—even just being in the same room as you, getting to stare at you—but I just—when I don’t know what you are to Mingyu, I don’t know what to do with us.”

You drew in an immediate breath, then releasing a quiet laugh mixed with a runny sniffle. “I-It seems like you know…”

He pushed both his hands into the countertop, smiling at you.

“Well, I know what I want to do…” Wonwoo murmured, gazing so intimately into your eyes as the oceans he urged to drown in, “but you have to understand my reservations about it. That’s all.”

Bringing a pinky finger to your mouth to nibble on, you nodded.

Softly, he pinched the bare expanse of your waist. You gasped.

“Because I do, in fact, want you.”

You didn’t say anything, although Wonwoo noted that you were staring back into his gaze with so many hues of simple human emotion pulsating behind your eyes—there was frustration, possibly at yourself and everything you couldn��t yet communicate, and twinkles of impulse that matched rhythm with your heart. Then, employing unforeseen abruptness, your fingers were running down the back of his neck all ticklish and he felt the warmth from your breath feather his lips as you moved in closer, smirking at him, hazy like a sunrise pouring its light through a thick cover of morning fog.

“If you can be patient for just a little longer, you'll have all of me.”

Thankfully (or maybe not so thankfully judging from the pure adrenaline coursing through his veins in a hedonistic, addictive sort of way) there were a few knocks at his door.

Your eyes rolled. “Is that your landlord or something?”

Wonwoo took a step back, letting you slide off the countertop while he adjusted his glasses and brushed down his t-shirt. How were you suddenly so casual? One second you were chewing nervously on your finger with the timidness of a newborn doe and the next—back to your typical self. He watched you approach the door, tilting his head.

“Uh, maybe? She usually texts me, though.”

“Or Seokmin with a batch of chocolate apology brownies.”

He chuckled, folding his arms. “Doubt it.”

Really, Wonwoo had no idea who it could be. It possibly was his landlord who had perhaps forgotten her usual warning text, or maybe his younger, sometimes irresponsible neighbour across the hall who would specifically ask to borrow his scent-free laundry detergent every now and then. As long as it wasn’t Lady Liberty on the other side (in Vernon’s tried and true nicknaming spirit) then Wonwoo had no reason to care.

“Welp,” you made a balmy, popping sound with your lips, “only one way to find out. I think I can smell the chocolate.” But once the door was pulled open, that little joking smile fell from your face concerningly fast, as though someone had plucked it right off.

Fuck—Wonwoo thought right off the cuff—it was Lady Liberty.

Your head quirked ever so slightly. “Uh, hello…”

Whoever the person was, they were just outside the threshold of what Wonwoo could see from his spot in the kitchen—except, now he didn’t think it was Mingyu at all, since your tone seemed more confused than anything else.

For a moment, Wonwoo just stood where he was, not particularly understanding why he couldn’t even twitch a measly finger.

“Hi—I’m sorry, is this the—is this—does Wonwoo still live here?”

From across the room, you shifted him a glance.

There was a heavy pause before you answered.

“… Yeah.”

“O-Oh, well… um… I’m so sorry, but are you living here as well? Is he home? I don’t mean to bother or anything. I guess I came by on a whim. It’s a little hard to explain… I can always come back later.”

At that point, Wonwoo was making his way beside you.

That voice—that delicate wispy voice, lighter than a tuft of cotton adrift through the breeze under a salt blue sky—there was such a familiarity about it that he was getting dizzier by the second. Your jaw was distinctly clenched as Wonwoo stopped at your side.

He took one look into the hallway and damn near fainted.

“What the fuck…” Wonwoo whispered, his mouth suddenly stark of moisture as he lifted a hand to grab the door’s edge, “Jeanie?”

“Uh, hey, Wonwoo.”

Wait—never mind, never mind—he panicked. Maybe he did want it to be Mingyu. In fact, Wonwoo would have anticipated Bohyuk showing up outside his door, or his parents, or his girlfriend of two weeks back in sixth grade who broke up with him over a juice box before he could guess that his ex who disappeared without a trace would be there.

It sounded borderline insane, but Wonwoo almost wanted to poke her just to test if she was even real. She looked real. She sounded real. You didn’t seem to be staring into empty space while side-eyeing him worriedly, rather you had very much acknowledged her. Wonwoo’s grip fastened to the door, then realizing he was using it as a personal crutch to keep him upright as his legs slowly regained their rigidity and strength. He also realized that you likely had no idea who she was until her name had been distantly tugged from his lips by his instincts.

Jeanie splayed out her hands in a demonstration of submission.

“If it’s a bad time, I can come back later…”

Wonwoo noted that you had taken a step away from the door, although you continued to stare at Jeanie with a countenance that refused to spoil much—it seemed inquisitive and curious but still hardened—the moment was probably overwhelming you, too.

He gulped dryly, flicking his eyes back to her. “Uh, well, I wasn’t even—you’re like, the last person I would expect to see and—”

“It’s okay. I’ll leave.”

Jerking back to you, Wonwoo nearly gave himself whiplash.

“Her—you don’t need to—”

But you shook your head.

Grabbing the cream purse off the couch and slipping back into your comfortable, clean white tennis shoes, you seemed eager to go while simultaneously jaded at the circumstances.

“No, don’t worry about it,” you stopped in front of Wonwoo, adjusting the strap wove around your shoulder, “this seems important, so… I don’t want to stand in the way of anything… I’ll see you later, ‘kay?”

Then, you turned to Jeanie, sticking out your hand. “Nice to meet you.”

She looked to Wonwoo for a split second.

“Um, yeah, you as well…” Jeanie eventually accepted the handshake, sounding breathy with nerves, “sorry about all this.”

While making your way to the staircase, Wonwoo quickly stepped into the corridor and waved at you, feeling his chest tighten.

“I’ll call you, okay?”

You flashed a transient smile. He hated watching you leave.

Jeanie was watching you, too, hands politely folded at her abdomen, bunny rabbit teeth digging at the skin of her ruby-stained and calloused lips. She had always been a chronic lip-biter—anxiety, thrill, or stress, Wonwoo vividly remembered the blisters she absentmindedly inflicted unto herself from the bad habit, similar to the scars marking the cuticle of his thumb. After a year Jeanie looked different no doubt, but she also reflected an unchanged image through her conserved, fidgety behaviours. She was shy like a budding flower kept just short of the sun.

“Are you okay if I come in?” Jeanie mumbled, hardly able to maintain eye contact with Wonwoo for no more than a second or two.

He stepped back, beckoning indoors.

“Yeah… that’s fine, I guess.”

“Looks pretty nice in here…” she remarked soft-spokenly, taking a moment to marvel the space she once came home to every day, although she couldn’t seem more like a stranger to the apartment even if she tried—like a magazine cutout slapped onto a novel.

Wonwoo rubbed under his nose. “Well… I make due.”

Her hair used to be a symmetric, blunt length with her chin, but she had clearly grown it out over the months. The black tresses thrived in long and loose ribbons down her back, shinier than sea glass polished by rough waves. She was never one to wear much makeup either—trimming her eyebrows, glossing her lips, and flicking on some mascara was all she really ever cared to do, and Wonwoo remembered being in love with her simplicity.

Jeanie proceeded to walk behind the couch, squeezing the back in her hands. She was so tiny. That hadn’t changed much. He could only stand in one place, keeping still, examining her every movement and fighting against the trillions of voices clawing to his mind’s surface.

“Feels strange to be in here,” she laughed, running her fingers along the couch’s fabric, staring around the space, “I think it definitely has more of your touch now… it was nice to see Saskia again, too.”

“Yeah.”

She stopped on him. “You look well. Healthy.”

Wonwoo squinted at her. “Why are you here?”

He didn’t say it in a rude, impatient way. Genuinely, Wonwoo wasn’t angry with her, not like he might have been a few months ago.

But he was confused and feeling increasingly anxious. You were gone, probably on your way back home, though Wonwoo wished you hadn’t left at all, even if it were to make things sticky and awkward. Your presence in a room was the comfort he badly, painfully missed.

“Sure,” Jeanie cleared her throat, “I’ll explain. Care to sit?”

Together, they nestled onto the couch.

Wonwoo was kept to one end while Jeanie sat more in the middle, pulling at the long, flowy hem of her fern-patterned blue dress.

He tugged at the rim to his beanie, waiting for her to speak.

The girl gripped onto her knees, poised a soft, gentle look in his direction while taking in a breath. Their nerves seemed to be coalescing like different colours bleeding from freshly soaked paintbrushes. If anxiety were personified into butterflies, the room would start fluttering.

“I guess I thought it was time. Taking a shot in the dark, I know. I didn’t know if you would still be here, but I got lucky…” she clutched at her dress, fingers pulling into the airy material. “Wonwoo, it’s not like I don’t think about you, or wonder about you. I know what I did, how much it hurt… then I wasn’t sure if I’d be able to come back to here, with you. But I processed it all and it became an itch I had to scratch.”

Puffing out through his nose, Wonwoo almost laughed.

“Yeah—you wanted to see if I, what? Threw myself off the building or persevered, becoming some big money writer?”

Jeanie blinked at him a few times, furrowing her neat, straight brow, with every hair gelled down perfectly in place.

Wonwoo shook his head, lifting out his hand.

“Okay, my bad. That sounded like such an asshole thing to say.”

“No, it’s okay. I get it.” Her cheeks flooded with a tide of rosy pink as she chuckled. “I-I just… well, you seem different now.”

He pushed up his glasses. “You think?”

“Yeah.”

“In a good or bad way?”

Jeanie clasped her hands together, thumbs tapping.

“Well, I guess you seem more... upfront, not as prevaricating. Maybe that’s how you’ve always been and I just never really saw it or you picked it up from someone else.”

Wonwoo shrugged. “Probably a bit of both.”

“I am sorry. I know it was all so… sudden. I know this is sudden. I thought about calling... my hands would just shake so much whenever I picked up the phone, getting all sweaty and stuff. It felt like something that I had to just do. And, well, once I was back in the area, I didn’t even want to lend myself time to dwell. I only came in yesterday.”

“You went back home, then?”

“I did.”

“I figured… well, I got the hint pretty clear when your mom sent me that email. It was only a sentence or two long, but it hurt like hell.”

“It’s what I asked her to send. It’s all I felt you needed to know.”

“Yeah, I get that.”

Jeanie sighed, “I feel warranted in what I did… even so, I-I think I owe you an apology. Because, well, you were and still are someone I regard highly. You were going through something pretty serious… I mean, it’s obvious you’re taking such better care of yourself.”

“It definitely hasn’t been linear.”

Tucking some hair behind her ear, the girl smiled. “Well, what in life really is? It only feels that way when you’re going straight down.”

He hmphed, thinking. “… Yeah. Really though, don’t worry about it. An apology isn’t necessary. You’ve always been too gracious.”

“I-I guess… but, I think it is, since—”

“Jeanie, c’mon. It’s really not. I was dragging you down.”

“Wonwoo, I feel like—”

“I’m telling you—”

“Well, I’m telling you and it would mean a lot if you just let me speak and get this off my chest. Please. Then you can have the floor. Tell me to package it all back up. Whatever it is you have to say. But I spent our entire relationship just listening and trying to understand you and interpret all your vague signals when I should have been trying to understand myself, and what I wanted. I’m not the verbose type, I know that. Going off on longwinded tangents about my feelings has never been something that suits me but I’m here now and I owe it to the girl who just sucked it all up, all the time, trying to be this perfect girlfriend for you.”

He managed a long, introspective breath.

Fuck—he really did owe her that. He owed her so much more.

“… Okay,” Wonwoo nodded complicity, “you’re right.”

“Leaving was the very last thing I wanted. I swear it. I agonized over the choice every day. But you didn’t even notice. That’s when I knew it was more than bad, and whatever it was you were going through was just pulling you down so deep, like a whirlpool. It’s like… I would talk to you, and there was no one inside. When I felt like you needed space, I gave you space. When I felt like you had something hard to say, I would sit with you all day, trying to ease it out, waiting for you to say it.

When you seemed so angry at yourself and everything around you—I-I don’t know—I tried to be the best thing for you. But I was hitting wall after wall. Sometimes I wonder how much of it was my fault. If I had just been upfront about my feelings then maybe things would have been… well, you know, different. I guess I never did say much because it seemed like the last thing you needed to hear, like I would be adding to your already massive collection of burdens. You have to understand, I felt trapped, Wonwoo. Like I was in a glass box or something.

I was decaying from the inside out. If I didn’t leave, if I didn’t make that split second decision to phone up my mom and tell her everything that morning you left for work—then maybe we would have gotten even worse. Maybe we would have just drowned. I don’t know. I’m… glad, relieved, happier than ever, that I don’t know what might have happened. And now that it seems we’re both… whole… I feel like an apology is just a way for me to say that if I had the steel to speak for the both of us, maybe we could have spared so much pain in between.”

Jeanie’s doe eyes twinkled with tears. “I thought that being apart might heal us both… I-I did it ‘cause—in essence—I did it because I cared, Wonwoo. About you. So deeply. But I also needed to start caring about myself, too.”

The corners of his mouth flitted in an unbridled smile toward the girl, his gaze admiring how the evening sunlight warmed up her cool-toned skin and shimmered through her strong, healthy hair.

“I know,” Wonwoo finally answered. “I’ve known for a while.”

Jeanie stayed for about an hour longer, until the sky started darkening. Together, they filled each other in on the breakages in each other’s distant lives, like a spider reweaving a gash through its cobweb. He was pleased to learn that she was doing quite well for herself—now moved out from her family house and living with her younger sister, Jeanie held true to pursuing her ambition of managing the library she had always adored coming to during her childhood (he remembered it specifically as “the one with the bean bag corner and the giant toy crate with the giraffe.”)

Wonwoo felt he didn’t have much to say regarding himself, however, he had plenty to say about you.

Rubbing at a strand of her hair, Jeanie nodded. “Yeah, I remember Her. She—like—she did scare me a bit… I don’t know—she really seemed to know what she was doing. I was a little envious of that. And she had really great style. She could pull anything off. She came in looking for a textbook one time, but I made my co-worker help her instead. I think I was too nervous to talk to her.”

Wonwoo had his legs stretched out onto the coffee table, hands settled on his stomach. Itching at his eyebrow, he smiled. “I probably would have done the same, back then. Honestly though, she’s nothing like what she seems. I can promise you that.”

Jeanie was quiet for a moment, adjusting the legs tucked up underneath herself. “So… you two are… you’re dating?”

“No… it’s weird. I wish.”

“I recognized her when she opened the door. I was pretty confused since… of all the people that you could have over… she seemed like the most unlikely candidate. I-I mean, I’m not saying that you could never—I’m not saying that it could never happen—”

He tilted his head at Jeanie, grinning slyly. “No, just say it. You didn’t imagine I’d ever even be able to talk to someone like her.”

The girl’s face flushed. “Well, you’re quite the opposites.”

“In some ways.”

“I don’t think she’d like me.”

Wonwoo pursed his lip in disagreement. “That’s not true. To be fair, you’ve ever only got to see one side of her. She’s trying to figure shit out just as much as we are. You never really stop, I suppose.”

He felt Jeanie’s gaze still on him for a few seconds, her mouth twitching into a delicate, sincere smile made brighter by her eyes. “So… you figure she’d like me? Even if she knew all the details about us? How rough it all was?”

Wonwoo crossed his arms, staring back toward her confidently. “I figure she’d probably like you more than me, actually.”

8:28 pm

“Hey, thanks for picking up.”

“Oh, no big deal. You called me at a good time. I was just about to start my skincare and I would have needed to sit for fifteen minutes doing absolutely nothing in a slimy face mask.”

“Sounds fun.”

“I’m guessing your conversation is over and done with.”

“Yeah. She only left like, five minutes ago.”

“And you didn’t want to sit alone in your bedroom contemplating the universe for an additional hour with all the blinds drawn? Woah. Wonwoo, I am impressed. Finger snaps.”

“Finger snaps.”

“So… am I allowed to know how the whole thing went or did you just call me to hear the sound of my voice?”

“Both. But mostly to hear your voice.”

“Okay. Enlighten me then.”

9:45 pm

“Anyway… yeah. The conversation went well. I still can’t believe she actually came back to see me. Like, what a mindfuck, you know?”

“That took a lot of courage from her part.”

“Yeah, it did. Makes me proud, though. To hear her actually speak her mind. She really was just trying to be the best possible person for me and the only thing that got her is heartbreak. She’s putting herself first, now. She’s spending a couple days in the city with her sister.”

“… Do you think that you’ll want to see her again?”

“I don’t know. Do I need to?”

“Do you?”

“No. I mean, don’t get me wrong, as much as it was a shock to see her again, there was great closure in it. If she had come to see me way sooner, no way would I have been open to it—I probably would have freaked the fuck out and had an anxiety attack or some shit—but I feel way better about everything now. I felt like I understood her choices, kinda like I was the one making them... but, you know, we’re evolved people at this point. We’ve veered onto two separate paths, neither one being greater than or less than the other… just different.”

“Right.”

“We just wished each other well.”

“No, that’s great. You put a bow on it. I just didn’t really know what the whole thing was gonna entail… so, yeah, I had gotten kinda worried… like—once I knew it was her—I thought she looked so perfect for you. You two just made immediate sense in my mind. She’s got such a sweet voice, and the kind, shy personality that everyone always adores. I think if you stuck her in a room with me, she’d hate my guts.”

“Ha—Jeanie hates no one’s guts. She’s got no room in her heart for that kind of stuff. You two are different for sure, but I think that’s what would make you interesting and attractive to each other.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. If it makes you feel any better, she didn’t think you’d like her either. But I told her you’d probably like her more than me.”

“What! She actually thought that? I mean, maybe I seemed a little damp when I left, but that was just my mind on overdrive.”

“Need me to arrange a date between you two?”

“Ha—she did have a great perfume on. Maybe ask about that.”

“Well, I will if I see her.”

“She doesn’t know about the book you were writing for her, does she? I can’t believe that’s been sitting on your laptop all this time.”

“No, she doesn’t. I used to sit there and stare at it every day, but I don’t think I’ve even opened the damn document in months… since I met you, my mind has gradually moved away from it, I guess. I think now it’s more of an effort thing. All the time I put into it. It’s like, if I delete it, I’m deleting that time from my life… does that even make sense?”

“Yeah, I know what you’re saying.”

“… Did you ever finish your book for Mingyu? I know you wanted it done before your anniversary in December. It seemed like you were on track to have it done quite early, with all that time you gave yourself.”

“I did finish it, actually.”

“No fucking way—that’s a big accomplishment.”

“Yeah. Now I’ve just gotta decide what to do with it.”

—NOVEMBER 3RD.

Wonwoo was fairly surprised that Princess had invited him to her birthday dinner at Terra Cotta. At one point, he wasn’t certain where he stood with your closest friend, even if his relationship with her presented itself as amicable on the surface—he always thought that maybe deep down, Princess really did despise him. Then Wonwoo wondered if you had nipped at the birthday girl into inviting him, although that didn’t seem like something in your character.

Through all his fretting, thumb-scraping, and late-night pondering in the shower, Wonwoo eventually came to the conclusion that was probably the simplest and most accurate: Princess just liked him.

A call from Vernon came through right as Wonwoo was getting into bed last week, to which the rambling boy had impetuously thrown out, “yeah, I got an invite to Her’s best friend’s birthday dinner or somethin’ like that—what was her name again? Penelope? The sexy dark skin girl with the braids? Anyway, I told her I’d love to go, but I’m gonna be out of town for a few days in November. Said I could hook her up with a couple MDMA bombs, though. Y’know, as a gift.”

Thus, that concluded the story of Wonwoo having to sit at a rather large and reserved candlelit table in an expensive, esteemed restaurant, surrounded by some friends and strangers alike, with a plastic baggie of hard drugs shoved into his pants pocket that he couldn’t stop worrying about. Vernon had wanted him to leave it with Princess when appropriate. Most people invited were going to the club later in the night—Room 319—which he figured could only be survived by going buckwild off ecstasy. As his knee continued to ricochet underneath the tablecloth, Wonwoo was soothed by your hand sliding over his thigh.

You gave him a solicitous glance, smiling with care. “Why don’t I just put it in my purse?” The offer was whispered amongst the conversation.

Wonwoo couldn’t help but flit his eyes around the table, ensuring no one was giving his general direction a lick of attention. The waiters and waitresses would pop from the blue every now and then with bottles that seemed glued to their hands, scouring for anyone who needed a top up on alcohol. His glass had been seldom touched for the past half-hour.

He sighed, shaking his head. “No, it’s fine.”

“Wonwoo,” you deadpanned at him.

“It’s fine.”

“Oh my God—just give me it. It’ll take me two seconds to dig it out from your pocket and shove it in my damn purse. Besides, I can’t enjoy myself when the anxiety is emanating off you in waves.”

His knee immediately stopped jerking. Wonwoo looked you straight in the eyes, the stiffness turning him into straw. “Is it really?”

“Yes!” You laughed quietly, your head hunkering down on his shoulder for a brief moment. “Now, give me it please. Pretty please.”

Sliding a hand into the smooth pocket on his pants, Wonwoo began fishing out the small plastic baggie while puffing, “fuck—alright.”

“Gosh,” he heard you mumble while discreetly taking the capsules from him, rustling them into your purse, “you could never be a drug dealer, could you? How are you even friends with Vernon? That dude probably walks around with sample sizes taped to his jacket.”

“It’s different.”

“Is it?”

“Yeah,” Wonwoo was finally able to roll out his shoulders and relax—even give you a humorous little smirk, “I have a way better chance of escaping the drug dogs than he does. I’ll get a nice head start.”

His thigh was met with a slap before your hand pulled away. “I’m acting like I don’t know either of you.”

To be fair, Wonwoo couldn’t picture his bad-mouthed, fairly uncouth friend in a snotty establishment like Terra Cotta, especially considering his ideal places to eat were twenty-four-hour diners and cereal pantries belonging to girls whom he’d just slept with. The restaurant was no doubt beautiful, though it was definitely for the upper echelons who could not only afford it, but also act the pleasant, opulent guise.

At least the table that Princess reserved was a bit more separated from the other tables in the restaurant—it was close to a waterfall built into the wall, encompassed by all sorts of burnish-looking smooth stones.

Neither Seokmin or Mingyu were at the dinner—two absences that no one seemed to be questioning. To Wonwoo, that was a gigantic relief—he assumed you felt the same. Clara was there, seated further down the table, but Bells wasn’t. Seungcheol was an obvious guest, and besides you, he was the person that Wonwoo had spoken to the most since arriving at the restaurant—he’d even given Wonwoo the slip on his secret gift for his girlfriend, which was a two-week vacation to the Bahamas after the winter exam season.

Wonwoo was a little jealous.

He would love for you and him to vacation somewhere.

Maybe even take you back to South Korea.

“So, you guys,” Princess had started a conversation with you and Wonwoo from across the table, hands folded underneath her chin while she smiled kindly between you, “think you’ll come to the club after?”

You pouted at her, “we’re passing, babe. A million sorries.”

“Awe, that’s okay.” She reached across the pristine tablecloth to lay her hand over top yours. “You already took me out for my birthday, anyway. And let me vomit in your washroom for two hours.”

“Mmhm. You’d do the same for me.”

Princess giggled, her grin luminous and wholly genuine. “Oh, of course. I have already done it!”

“Well, you’ll have to tell me all about Room 319. The stories I’ve heard about that place—sounds like some shit from a movie.”

“Trust me, you’ll get the entire script in a bound book. I know the club thing isn’t for everyone—that’s why I did the dinner. And I’m doing cupcakes instead of cake! Remember those red velvet cupcakes we had that one night? And then that other night? Fuck—I couldn’t stop thinking about those damn things.”

“Oh, those were fucking delicious.”

“De-licious. Have you ever got to try one, Wonwoo?”

He swallowed, a bit jarred to be welcomed into their conversation that he had been happily listening to from the sidelines.

“I tried one. I liked it.”

Princess gasped at him. “Only liked? Be serious!”

“Well, ask me again later tonight. I wasn’t having it fresh.”

“I will be asking. How’s Vernon? I’m sad he couldn’t make it.”

“Oh, he’s fine. Sometimes he just mysteriously disappears from town for a couple days—I don’t ask because I don’t want to know. But, uh, he did leave me with a gift for you… if you didn’t already know.”

“Oh… oh! Right!” Princess straightened up, nodding. “Yeah, I remember. You can give it to me when we leave. Outside.”

“I have it actually,” you clarified, flickering a transient look at the tiny purse you had moved onto the table, “when we take a girl’s trip to the washroom, you can have it. The dose is pretty high. I know I don’t have to worry about you and this stuff, but be careful, y’know?”

“Of course. Just make sure you hide the purse in your lap when the waiter comes back. They love offering to take bags and satchels and all that stuff to hang in the coat room.” After clearing her throat with a sip from her pink, frothy champagne, Princess curiously poked at you two. “So, how do you guys plan to spend the rest of your night?”

Wonwoo opted not to speak.

You grabbed your wine glass, swirling the aromatic alcohol around inside while shrugging. “Not sure. It’s chilly out. Hope you don’t freeze your tits off standing outside in the mile long line for the club.”

“That’s what this push-up is for. The padding’s so toasty warm.”

Laughing with Princess, you ended up snorting.

Seungcheol, who was sat beside his girlfriend and had been occupied in speaking to a friend Wonwoo forgot the name of, finally parted from his conversation, turning his head at the last second to hear the giggling.

“Push-up? What are you guys talking about?”

You shook your head. “Nothing—just her bra.”

“Oh,” Seungcheol mumbled, “what about her bra?”

Princess smiled. “Just that with all this padding it’s got, it’ll keep me nice and warm when I’m waiting outside. Perfectly insulated.”

Rubbing a thumb and index finger along his jaw, Seungcheol grinned all relaxed-like while Princess rolled her dark brown eyes at his comment, the gold accents in her inner corners glimmering.

“I bet my hands would be a lot more efficient. Nothing warmer than skin on skin as they say.”

She shoved his shoulder half-heartedly. “Who says that? Now, bedroom eyes away before I make you wear a bag over your head.”

“I don’t see a bag here.”

“As the birthday girl, I’m pretty sure I can request one.”

The dinner officially wrapped up around ten at night. Wonwoo was able to reaffirm with Princess that the red velvet cupcakes were indeed moist and delicious. As everyone stood right outside the restaurant in the nippy, cold November weather, giving hugs and farewells to those who weren’t clubbing, he made sure to wish Princess probably the twentieth happy birthday she’d heard that night. He waited for you to give her another speech about staying safe but still having fun, sprinkled with lots of “I love you’s” and inside jokes that Wonwoo wondered if he would ever understand, before you two left on your own.

Each time he spoke, his breath would come to life in a warm wisp from his mouth, meanwhile the streets lights reflected in the melted snow all over the sidewalk he aimlessly wandered down, with you sticking close to his side. It hadn’t been a heavy snow, at least.

“Be honest,” you said, glancing toward Wonwoo, “how relieved are you that we’re not going to the club? On a scale of one to ten.”

“Is ten the most relieved?”

“Yeah.”

He looked at you, completely unabashed. “Ten.”

Kissing your teeth, you nodded. “That’s what I expected.”

“So,” Wonwoo hummed, stopping beside you at the intersection while waiting for the crosswalk light to change, “what now?”

Your eyebrows raised. “Still want to do something?”

As the cars whipped past, throwing up brisk winds and exhaust into the twinkling city atmosphere, Wonwoo shrugged. “The night is young.”

“What's on your mind?”

“We’re not far from Centertown. It’s maybe a fifteen-minute walk or so at this point. There’s a bar there I want to try. The Honeymoon.”

He was glad you didn’t seem opposed.

“Sure. I’m down.”

Once the crosswalk was open and the floods of people started pressing forward, there was somebody who passed them—somebody who almost went completely unnoticed by Wonwoo until his memory reloaded and he suddenly found himself pausing to observe over his shoulder.

You pulled at his sleeve. “What?”

“Uh, nothing,” Wonwoo replied, wetting his dry lips while heeding your polite tug, “the woman that passed us—she’s dressed exactly like this prostitute that Vernon told me he saw last winter, hanging outside Room 319. She has the heels and everything.”

“What the fuck. Really?”

“Mmhm,” he laughed, “he called her Pink Heels Lady. To be honest, I thought he was lying… but I’m pretty sure that was her.”

“Spooky. Coincidence or fate, do you think?”

Wonwoo glanced at you, seeing the intrigued smile on your face.

“I don’t know, actually,” he responded after the question hovered around in his mind for an oddly long second, deciding to pick up your hand in is, “I assume it’s just the universe working its magic.”

Wonwoo was never particularly into bars, although he could tolerate them much more than a club despite their parallels. The seedy lighting, deafening music, and signature throw-up gutter in the street or alleyway right outside the building was crucial to both, he had realized.

The Honeymoon was a newer bar that had garnered some notable buzz. It was less like a pub, being slightly more formal with a touch of modernity that had landed it just below presumptuous, in Wonwoo’s opinion. At least the music wasn’t overbearing, nor was there intoxicated, flush-faced men hollering at sports teams on televisions that would never hear them. You decided to sit at the counter, sliding onto the heightened chairs and leaving your jackets draped over the low backs.

You bristled, shaking out your shoulders. “I’m cold.”

Wonwoo cupped his hands overtop your icy cheeks for a moment, allowing some of his warmth to seep into your skin.

“A drink will fix that right up.”

“How are your hands hotter than mine? You’re always freezing.”

He smiled at you, letting you have your face back. “I can warm them up at will to your benefit.” Wonwoo joked, bumping his knee against yours. “What do you think of the place?”

Your lip pursed as you glanced around, examining the bartenders filling up glasses with their silvery, shiny spouts, and then over your shoulder at the numerous other tables occupied by the city’s strangers. For a frigid November night, it was quite full.

“It’s nice. The lighting is pretty. Reminds me of Alley Cat.”

“Oh, yeah. Vernon took me there once to celebrate my exams being done, then he got into a fist fight with this university student over something I can’t remember—smashed a glass on the dude’s head.”

Predictably, your eyes rolled. “Only Vernon is getting into fist fights at Alley Cat.”

Wonwoo chuckled. “Well, now he can’t get into fist fights there at all—management banned him and the other guy. Apparently, they’ve got this back wall of people who’ve been kicked out and he’s on there.”

“Figures,” you sighed.

“Oh my gosh! Wonwoo? It’s you!”

At the sound of his name being excitedly called, Wonwoo was soon met with the surprised but cheerful expression coloured to Sierra’s freckled face. He hadn’t forgotten that she worked there, but he was clueless about her schedule. She looked very pretty, glowing in a halo almost, with her coarse, reddish-brown hair pulled back slick into a ponytail and a crisp, clean black uniform tailored to fit her perfectly.

Wonwoo grinned. “Hey there. I didn’t know you worked tonight.”

Sierra set one hand onto the lacquered wood counter while the other stuck to her hip. “I don’t usually. Fridays are game nights with my little sister. But there was a call-in. A little extra cash never hurt.” The girl’s big, round eyes then flitted to you. “Her, right? I don’t think we’ve ever met formally. I know you’re one smart cookie, though.”

“I’d like to think so,” you answered, smiling back at Sierra, “you were at the party, weren’t you? The one Seungcheol threw this summer?”

She nodded, “I was. I made a few drinks here and there.”

“I never got to taste one,” you frowned, pouting.

Throwing up her hands, Sierra was quick to exclaim with her typical charisma and sugar sweetness, “what! Preposterous! I think I’m pretty wicked at it. What are you thinking of having?”

“To be honest, I’m not looking for anything too fancy at the moment. In fifteen minutes from now, I won’t be able to promise the same. I’d like to start off with a rum and coke, if that’s alright. For now.”

Sierra grinned. “No, that’s perfect. What about you, Wonwoo?”

He shrugged. “I’ll have the same. For now.”

“Well, for now, I’ll start you guys off with two rum and cokes.”

Leaning his elbows onto the countertop, he threw her a question.

“How’s it going with Carmen?”

While she prepared the drinks, Sierra blossomed into a smile. “Oh, it’s going great. She’s genuinely a blast. We’re going to the movies next week—that horror one is coming out, about the swimming pool—we think it’s gonna suck but that’s what makes it fun.”

Once Sierra slid you the cold glass, you tilted your head at her while fixing your lips around the black straw. “Who’s Carmen?”

“My girlfriend.” Sierra answered. “We met here, actually.”

“Ugh, no way,” you swooned, pressing a cheek into your hand as the next drink was given to Wonwoo, “that’s so fucking adorable. Does she ever tell you how beautiful you look in that all-black uniform?”

Giggling, Sierra wiped down the countertop and flushed. “I’ve heard it many times. It’s honestly just a t-shirt and slacks!”

“Well, you’re making it work.”

“Please—my face is heating up! You’ve got quite the gorgeous dress on yourself, you know. I always wonder where you get all your clothes. Wonwoo, have you complimented her yet, tonight?”

Mixing the ice cubes together to hear the satisfying clinks using his straw, he answered easily. “It was the first thing out of my mouth.”

Sierra nodded in satisfaction. “Good! Well, I won’t hover. But if you need any refills or have any questions, you can try to flag me down—or ask Jamie! She’s just down there. She’s great at martinis. Later!”

Once Sierra had left to busy herself with tending to others waiting service at the counter, you looked to Wonwoo, lips downturned.

“Jeez, she’s so freaking nice. How come I don’t have that kind of natural charm? Not that I’m not charming. But hers is so… magnetic.”

“Everyone’s got their natural quirks.”

“Yeah, well, my natural quirk is that I’m probably going to down this in the next two minutes. And then have three more after that.”

Wonwoo rubbed a hand to your shoulder, smirking into the glass that he raised to his mouth. “Just focus on the one you have now.”

3 more rum and cokes (+ 1 martini) later.

“No, no—but then, it gets even worse! Because not only had she been lying straight to his face the entire time, so was his best friend! They were seeing each other for weeks and weeks—he had no idea. What gave it away though, was the perfume. He was always telling her not to wear heavy perfumes and stuff because it will leave a scent on the sheets, but she messed up—so they freaked it, she spends the night, and then the next day when he’s over, he goes into his friend’s room looking for a charger and smells the perfume on the sheets! He puts it together! And then, and then—”

You paused, picking up the wide-mouthed martini glass to take a sip in the midst of your long-winded and passionate adultery story that Wonwoo had been struggling to follow for the past blurred time interval, the names now completely lost on his ears. There was hardly anything left in your glass, which led to your frustrated grumble, followed by an attempt to flag down the bartender, Jamie.

However, Wonwoo swiftly caught your hand despite his own impaired state, lowering it back to the countertop.

“Okay, I think that’s enough.” He pushed forward the cup of water he requested for you. “The least you can be right now is hydrated.”

Although you weren’t happy about his thwarting, you did yield to the advice and drink some of the water. Wonwoo knew he should probably have some himself after his own splurge on the bar’s pricy concoctions, but he still felt that he was holding up quite well. Before Jamie could whisk by again, he made sure to ask for another cup.

“So, what happened next?” Wonwoo nudged your elbow while you stared off cluelessly, urging you to continue the story.

“What?”

“He smells her perfume on the bedsheets. Now what?”

However, you were suddenly slumping forward, forehead nestled into your hands. For a moment, you stayed like that without word, until Wonwoo couldn’t help his concern and touched at your bare shoulder.

“Not feeling well?”

You shook your head, whining out, “no, no. It’s not that.”

He frowned, scooting to the edge of his chair and securing his arm across your shoulders. His voice was softer and closer against your warm cheek as he attempted to gauge that sour, twisted expression past your concealing hands, wanting to understand your hiding.

“Well, am I allowed to know what’s bothering you?”

Again, you remained silent, biting your lip. There was such tenseness in your body that he could simply feel with just his arm.

Wonwoo leaned back, instead tugging at your wrist. “Can I at least see your face? Please?” You didn’t budge. “Her, you’re worrying me a bit, here. Do you need me take you home—”

“Okay, I have something to tell you.” Breaking abruptly from your husk, you were now staring straight and square at Wonwoo with distinct inebriation cloudy in your eyes, although there was something else too that compelled Wonwoo to bite his tongue and listen. “Honestly, I think I’ve held onto this long enough. And, I’ve wanted to confess this to you for a while now, but there was just so much debris in my life that I needed to sort through first. But you’re beyond important to me, and I just think that it’s time you finally know… so, can I tell you?”

“Um…”

Wonwoo’s throat was suddenly bone-dry and his pulse had spiked to the point where he could feel a vein along his neck start throbbing—he even pondered waving down the bartender for another drink to pacify his growing nerves.

Ultimately, Wonwoo wouldn’t last that long. Pushing up his glasses, he nodded, noting that you hadn’t blinked once while you waited.

“Sure. Tell me.”

Your upper lip twitched.

“Mingyu’s been cheating on me, for two years.”

Wonwoo was quick to feel all his awareness become dull and drowned. He hardly registered his elbow shifting across the countertop, almost knocking over the glass of water onto the floor, nor did he realize the manner in which his mouth had subtly dropped open. You continued to stare at him with intensity, likely studying every tweak and fidget in his body language before swallowing deeply and choosing to continue the revelation.

He tightened up his jaw, trying to seem firm.

You looked ashamed of yourself as you admitted, “it’s been going on for two years, and I’ve known for about a year.”

“Really?” He answered, sounding mystified. “An entire year?”

“Give or take.”

Then, Wonwoo was shaking his head. His fist had clenched up tight, though it wasn’t the usual automated response that accompanied his anxiety—he found there was immediate distaste and anger swirling together like storm clouds in the pit of his stomach.

Your gaze was cast to the water glass on the countertop, which you moved away for no apparent reason, your expression emptied.

After a frail sigh, you continued, “do you remember that day I came into creative writing and got super upset at that guy for sitting in my seat? Remember how we talked about it at the nature museum, and I told you that I had a fight with Mingyu before going to class?”

“Yeah…”

“Well, that day, I tried bringing it up to him. And it totally didn’t go over how I thought it would. Mingyu denied it all… of course, I only had some vague but suspicious texts to go off of, which he explained his way out of pretty poorly. But I just accepted it for the sake of our relationship. And I never brought it up again until… you know.”

Wonwoo let a natural, stagnant silence fall in between you, meanwhile the encompassing atmosphere was kept flowing by the various conversations of those around you—seemingly happy—with plenty to drink as they kept warm from the bitter cold just outside.

He was biting his tongue, though he couldn’t hold the question any longer, piquing his, “do you know who he was cheating with?”

A huff shot straight through your nose.

“I know…” you mumbled, “and you know her, too.”

Suddenly, a name popped to his mouth without thought.

“Bells.”

When you didn’t confirm nor deny, opting to stare off to the side to conceal the emotion springing forth, Wonwoo knew it was solid truth.

“Fuck…” he cursed, grazing his hand across the smooth leg that was folded over your knee, “I’m so sorry… I’m at a loss for words.”

You could only sigh while a glossy film developed in your eyes.

“I mean, I’ve been through all the stages already—grief, denial, acceptance—whatever the other ones are—so I don’t know why I’m still getting so choked up about it. I obviously didn’t want to believe it… I mean, who the fuck does? Especially when you truly do have feelings for that person.” Shaking your head and sniffling, you exasperatedly flicked out a hand. “Her and her stupid sparkles. That was when I really started putting it together. Oh, I’m going out to play poker, babe! And the next day, I’m wearing his sweater, and I realize there’s these fucking little bits of glitter on it, inside it—it was like a fucking beacon that was just screaming at me—hey! Your asshole boyfriend is cheating!”

That was something Wonwoo had noticed himself, after Bells had bumped into him at the party—the girl’s adoration for sparkly clothing and makeup essentially left behind a glaring trail of glimmery breadcrumbs. Wonwoo had found them on his clothes once he took them off and could really see the fabric underneath the light. The confession suddenly painted your actions that night in a new colour.

Rubbing against your temple, you explained further despite the struggle to speak over that clogged sound coming from your throat.

“It’s not like I’m stupid, either, even if right now, in this situation, I seem like it. I know what Bells is like… she’s spoiled rotten—always has been—and is used to getting whatever the fuck she wants. But, you see, that’s the thing! That’s the fucking thing! Seokmin, Clara, Bells, even Princess—I only met them because of the webs my parents have in their business world. I was never really allowed to find my own friends. It really just shows how much they had a say in my life… don’t misconstrue, I truly do love Princess and she’s by far the most normal, grounded person amongst them. She actually listens, and cares. But I was only allowed to befriend her ‘cause my parents know her parents.

Mingyu seemed like the one person I was actually able to connect with on my own… but he’s honestly changed so much. It’s like, my parents were able to get their little fangs in him and warp him. And now… I really don’t think he loves me at all… I think he loves my image, and what I represent, and the opportunities that come with me… but, I don’t think he actually, genuinely loves me like he used to... like, back then, he was so, so sweet. He was always fumbling over himself, nervous, trying his best. I mean, you've read about it! He used to want to be an architect, Wonwoo. A freaking architect! He sketched all the time. He has a closet drawer full of sketch books from when he was younger. But everything's different now. He doesn't care. He hates when I bring it up! He hates me!

And I don’t just think—I know it, Wonwoo. He resents me, but he won’t let go. Instead, he just sucks the life out of me, like he’s trying to get me to hate myself, too. And I do. I guess, as long as I hate myself, it makes me perfect in their eyes. I’ll just keep letting them mould me until I feel complete.”

Wonwoo didn’t know what to do.

Hell, he didn’t even know what to say except for the fact that you were right—as long as you always felt subpar, or lacking, or frustrated with your drought of true identity, it would lead you back to the reliance you had on the deceptive characters in your life—it was nothing but a miserable cycle designed to bog you down and snuff you out. At least your tearful eyes had dried up.

You looked at him fondly, with a gentle smile. “That’s what I like so much about you… even if you didn’t intend to—which I know you didn’t, judging from what I’ve heard about you trying to avoid writing with me—” (he bit his inner cheek coyly, casting a somewhat anxious hand through his hair), “—you helped me realize parts of myself that were always there, but only needed some nurturing. You actually encouraged me. Supported me. And—okay—I know I said that I hate myself—but since I’ve met you, I’ve been replacing it with an understanding of my situation. I’ve been kinder. I’ve been more of myself. I like to think what we have is a sort of symbiosis.”

Wonwoo nodded. “I think you’re right.”

“Do you think that I’m… stupid… for staying?”

Immediately, Wonwoo’s face furled in disagreement. “No, no. Absolutely not. Mingyu’s been with you for so long. He has an integral quality in your life. It would be difficult to uproot yourself just like that. No one’s a better judge of that situation than you.”

“You think?”

“I know.”

As you relaxed back into the bar chair, Wonwoo could practically see this heavy, dark mist levitate from you and dissipate into the air. He knew that feeling of relief and inner freedom very well, and there was almost nothing that could compare to it.

Wonwoo then sipped from his glass of water, continuing to watch the stiffness melt off you like ebbing spring snow. "So, what was his response like? To your accusations? Was he at least honest?"

"Yeah, I got it all out of him eventually," you revealed with a very cumbersome sigh. "But he was deflecting like crazy... I'd never seen him like that before... he was fumbling his words all over, like he used to when we were first dating. But it was different. It wasn't nerves, it was just blind anger. He said I was no better. I mean, he's convinced we've had sex, and he wouldn't accept my denial, no matter what."

"It's not black and white," Wonwoo said, squeezing your arm, "it seems to me like a natural consequence. You felt trapped and alone."

For a split second, Jeanie flashed in his mind. A sear of guilt snapped through him. Mingyu would have much reflecting to do.

Nodding your head, you looked to Wonwoo and graced him with the words he may or may not have been waiting months to hear: "it's all over now—Mingyu and I—I made that extremely clear. And I honestly don't care what anyone else has to say. My mom didn't want to believe it... she's been acting strange since. I don't blame her."

In response, he merely nodded, warming you up with his gentle eyes.

But then he was shifting forward in his seat, elbows settled to the counter. Although it was quite late and he felt exhausted from drinking, his curiosity about a particular matter was still sharp.

“So… I’m wondering… what's your reason for writing the book?”

You gulped. “I wanted a way of looking back on everything. Seeing if maybe I could find myself somewhere amongst all those memories. Maybe when I started losing Mingyu was when I started losing myself. Maybe that's when I realized I was losing myself. Maybe that's when I realized I never really knew myself to begin with.”

He shrugged, his face colouring with admiration for you.

“Well... have you found something?”

Your only means of response was a twinkle-eyed grin.

The walk back to your apartment wasn’t as dreadful as Wonwoo anticipated, mostly attributed to the alcohol soaking up in your stomachs, keeping your blood warm even in the face of a tough, harsh wind. Back when it wasn’t so late in the night and his lips had yet to touch his first rum and coke, Wonwoo thought he would take himself home after seeing you off first. But now it was almost midnight, and he had this impending feeling of vertigo while he walked, and he was therefore very limp to fight the offer that involved a comfortable stay at your place until morning.

Wonwoo wasn’t exactly sure where he deposited his coat or his shoes, or even his phone—instead he found himself sitting at the end of your bed, listening to the muffled sound of a running sink behind a closed door as you were busy in the washroom.

He leaned over, removing the glasses already slid down his nose and rubbing a palm into his eye until stars traversed the length of his vision. So, Lady Liberty was a cheater. For the past two years. It did bring Wonwoo to wonder what else Mingyu had said during your argument. Did he ever give a reason for cheating? Did he feel boxed into a life that wasn't the enriching utopia he surmised it might be, but he was toughing it out for the sake of success? Was he cheating because he was mad at you or mad at himself?

Or was he honestly just an asshole?

The Mingyu he was familiar with was shifty, and hardened, and image-obsessed, and now Wonwoo knew for a fact he wasn’t delusional for feeling the tension between you and him whenever you were together. God—he could practically cut all the thickness in the air using Seokmin’s nose and serve it like pieces of cake. But Mingyu hadn't always been like that according to your allegories. Deep down there could still be traces of the man you fell in love with, flickering like shiny little minnows beneath murky, clouded water.

But it was too late now.

Fitting his glasses back on, Wonwoo rolled back the sleeves to his crisp white dress shirt, proceeding to take a gander around your bedroom that he hadn’t revisited in quite some time.

The running sink in the washroom across the hall was finally turned off, although Wonwoo had stopped paying attention to the background noise in place of reading your every detail off the walls. In minuscule ways, the room had changed. There were missing photographs from the dresser, your makeup vanity drawers no longer left ajar in your likely last-minuting rushing to ensure everything was perfect. The closet seemed cleaned-out. Emptier than it once was.

“I thought you might fall asleep.”

He jumped slightly, realizing that you were in the bedroom now, setting down your heels in the corner before making a stride toward the closet where the dress over your arm was hung back up.

Wonwoo bit his lip. “I questioned it.”

You smiled, and within that moment he noticed the long t-shirt you were draped in was the dark blue, logoed math shirt, the one you’d picked after sprinting back to his apartment amidst a rain storm. He felt something in his chest swell and ache in response to how pretty you looked wearing it. Wonwoo knew he was staring, blushing, but he didn’t care. You had two of his t-shirts now. He hoped that collection might continue growing. He hoped that you wore them until his scent was naturally replaced by the strawberry sweetness of your own.

“Thinking about anything in particular?” You asked, arms folded.

Slapping a guilty little grin on his face, Wonwoo shrugged. “No.”

But then you started striding toward Wonwoo, uttering out something half-whispered that sounded a lot like “liar”, and now he truly wasn’t thinking about a damn thing, not even his own breath, as you proceeded to slide your arms around his neck and seat yourself in his lap. He was frozen. You hadn’t been this fucking close to him since you two had cuddled during Seungcheol’s party.

But this was worse—this was full-throttle intimacy with your penetrative, fluttering eyes eating up his soul while your bare thighs squeezed the sense out of him, trapping him, testing him.

“Scared?” You whispered, moving your face in closer.

Yes—he was horrified—he couldn’t even speak with you smiling at him so innocently despite the flames you were igniting.

Though, when he felt a wriggle from your hips that seemed to push against him in all the right places, Wonwoo’s hands were immediate on your waist, tight and stilling, and he swore there was a vulnerable, pliant spark in your eyes that he had never seen before. Maybe Wonwoo could have been more polite about the approach, but after waiting so, so long, he felt like a rocket ship rife with fuel.

He kissed you.

In one decision his lips were pressed to yours, and in a kiss that was full of friction and earnest want, he could only dig deeper. Your arms curled further around his neck, to which you slipped in a quick, sharp breath before pouring yourself back into him so suddenly, mouths moulding again and again, spit slickening, noses bumping. He would have paused to take off his glasses, though Wonwoo was in no place to leave your lips for even a second—especially when your playful tongue glided with his and the world around him melted like wax.

Maybe he was biased (or maybe it was love), but Wonwoo swore it had never felt this right to kiss someone. He knew it, somewhere outside himself, far out in the ever-expanding universe and every other version that belonged, that this moment felt destined to happened. Wonwoo had never particularly believed in fate.

But then he wouldn’t know how else to describe you.

His hands itching to touch more of your skin had gravitated to the thighs clenching at his hips. Your warmth and smoothness only made him greedier. As the kissing became messy in the desperation, he couldn’t help but slide his hands to your ass, immediately kneading his cold fingers into the flesh, pulling, squeezing, pushing you closer into him because he quite literally wanted you to engulf his body.

Then, you were gripping at the back of his hair. You had opened up his throat for your wet lips to continue exploring, and Wonwoo felt every suckle and teething bite draw him further from clarity.

Each kiss slithered lower, until you were gradually lifting from his lap and placing yourself onto the carpet floor. Wonwoo had leaned back to tightly fist the bedsheets behind him, although he would never waver his lusted eyes from the sight of you between his spread legs, on your knees, palming him overtop his dress pants while biting your swollen, glistening lip. He almost wanted the camcorder to capture it.

“How does it feel?” You hummed, staying focused on each pressured movement your hand applied to his prominent erection.

Wonwoo chuckled, clearing the huskiness in his throat, “like I’m gonna die.” His head tilted back. “Holy shit.”

Flashing nothing but a conniving, pleased smile, you tended to undoing his belt buckle. Wonwoo was burning up. As you pulled down the zipper to his pants and helped him shift down the waistband to his underwear an adequate distance, he couldn’t process anything but the fact that he might burst like an explosion of confetti the second your hand would touch him.

Except, you opted to sit back on your haunches.

Tilting your head, you smirked at him.

“I would like a demonstration, please.”

He almost choked. “A what?”

“A demonstration,” you repeated, shuffling closer in between his thighs and gazing up much too seraphically through your lashes, “won’t you show me how you touch yourself, Wonwoo? Please?”

For the life of him, he couldn’t produce one stupid fragment of a sentence, or even a word. God—it didn’t fucking help that you took reign and offered to get him started—your hand carefully reaching past his underwear, gripping onto him gently to spring his erection free. A shiver surged throughout his body at the sensation. Hotness spread like molten lava across his face as the result of your lascivious, teasing actions stood leaking and stiffer than wood right before your eyes, which were agleam with thrill and haze.

You seemed as though you were going to pounce on him.

But he could visibly see you swallow the temptation.

“Aww, you have the prettiest dick I’ve ever seen,” you giggled, wrapping a hand around him that was soft and warm, “would it make you feel better if I started you off, then? Gave you some help?”

Wonwoo’s fists were tangled so intensely into the bedsheets he was surprised the fabric hadn’t disintegrated. Holding his breath, he watched you lean forward until your mouth was hovering an agonizing distance over him, only to produce a line of spit that dripped onto his head. His jaw unhinged in a groan. Then you began working the saliva along his shaft, pumping a hand up and down, occasionally flickering your thumb over the sensitive tip only to remove the contact so casually, likely knowing it would rip him apart.

“Your turn.”

He took a second to push up his glasses and shake his head.

“M’not gonna last long, you know,” Wonwoo grunted, at last heeding your request and beginning to stroke himself for your viewing pleasure, “especially after that big display. You fucking tease.”

With an arm slid over his thigh and the drool collecting in your mouth, you couldn’t have looked anymore dazzled by the thirst you were experiencing, your eyes refusing to part from every tug delivered by his own hand. It was a spell, and you were unapologetically under it.

“Mmm, a tease?” You purred, smiling. “I was just trying to help.”

“Were you?” Wonwoo scoffed, pumping faster while continuing to twist up the bedsheets using his other hand. “Rubbing your fucking spit into my cock is tt-trying to help me? Is that what you think?”

“Mmhm,” you answered, straightening up as Wonwoo felt himself become tenser, felt the pressure in his abdomen climb.

He shuddered, a groan reverberating from somewhere deep in his chest. The sound of his fist wetly slapping up and down consumed the room and Wonwoo knew it was only a matter of seconds before he lost it. You were basking in every sound and movement.

“Fuck, fuck, I-I can't—”

Suddenly, you’d pushed Wonwoo’s hand away. His stomach flipped upside down. Before he could recognize the brief loss and regain of pleasure, your suckling, wet, hot mouth was already sliding down around his erection, your grip fastening to whatever you couldn’t quite reach. Wonwoo bit his lip so hard at the sensation that something coppery-warm was tasted on his tongue, although that was the least of his concerns when you were throating him with messy desperation. His hand rested on your scalp, nervous to push your head down too firmly, but once he did, you moaned out so erotically around him that Wonwoo fragmented.

His hips bucked straight into your face while his fingers had tightened at the back of your scalp, feeling every intense throb expand against your throat, spurt after spurt filthy in your mouth. But you were diligent and zealous and Wonwoo knew you were swallowing it all despite the few tears trickling onto his pelvis. His length didn’t leave the velvet, pillowy confines of your mouth until every bit was expertly milked out from him, though had Wonwoo let his hand drift off your hair in case you wanted a breath.

With a hiccup and a wipe against your chin, you were tasting the bedroom’s heavy air and exhaling ragged as Wonwoo marvelled you.

“Trying to take my soul with you or something?” He huffed, using his thumb to remove some leftovers from the side of your lips.

You caught his hand in an instant. “No—” you piped up, quick to close your mouth around the digit and suck off whatever he politely removed, laving your tongue like you were licking a popsicle, “—I want all of it.”

He thought he might crumble, hearing you mumble such obscene words while tracks of tears dried overtop your cheeks, your voice sounding somewhat hoarse from the labour of taking him whole.

You were climbing back onto Wonwoo’s lap almost blindly, his next breath taken away by a passionate kiss you pushed so fervently onto his lips. There was another tangling of tongues, saliva mixing together, but neither attempting to take control— though at this point Wonwoo would gladly oblige to throwing you on the bed and twisting off those frustrating panties he imagined were sticking to you. He could feel your arousal dampening through the baby pink cotton as his length twitched back to hardness underneath you.

“Wonwoo,” you whined breathily into his ear while grinding your hips against him in search of friction, “I’ve got to tell you something I did.” You bruised up his neck with more kisses. “Something bad.”

His eyes were shut, hands continuing to grope your ass. “Yeah?” He mumbled, feeling your tongue drag across a vein in his neck. “You did something bad? What could that be?”

Your hands drifted down his chest, yanking open the buttons on his dress shirt in satisfying pops. Warm, feathery breath hit his ear. “That day I stayed the night in your bedroom… alone…” you kissed him on his mouth, letting it linger and last, “I couldn’t help it.”

Wonwoo had gripped the side of your face, meanwhile he rubbed underneath the waistband to your tiny, thin underwear.

“Couldn’t help what?”

He flinched as your hand sunk down to grab his cock.

“I touched myself,” you confessed just an inch from his face, “I laid back against your pillows, spread my legs all wide… I had my fingers stuffed so deep inside myself, but it still didn’t feel like enough.” Again, you were softly stroking him. Wonwoo continued to uphold that unwavering, painfully honest gaze you were pinning him in. “Nd’ I came all over your t-shirt, Wonwoo. I played with myself until my fingers were cramping and my legs couldn’t stay open anymore.”

He gulped—heavy—like swallowing a chunk of lead. His tender thumb grazed along your cheek and rubbed over your puffy lips. “I wanted to fuck you so bad that night,” Wonwoo soothed your confession with another, which was already quite obvious, “I dreamt about it. I wanted to bury myself so fucking deep inside your gut.”

You shook your head, eyes teary. “Why didn’t you?” He felt the delicate stroking motion along his erection come to a pause.

Wonwoo cradled your cheek. “It would have fucked everything up.”

“But I wanted it,” you whimpered. “I’ve been wanting it for so long and you just left me there. I would have been quiet. You could have put me face down in the pillows and just used me all you wanted.”

“No,” Wonwoo argued, “I would never want to use you. I want us to be together in everything. I know you wanted it. But lust makes you think different. Just like it’s making you think different right now.”

He softly slotted his mouth with yours, exchanging a much slower, sweeter kiss that lit a glow in his belly. You puddled right into the contact, curling your arms back around his neck to hold him tighter.

Much lighter kisses dappled the edges of your lips.

Wonwoo could feel you start to smile.

“I figured something was off the next morning,” he said.

You chuckled, “I didn’t know how to face with you without thinking about it. I felt so dirty. But in the moment, I needed something.”

He nipped down your slender neck, letting his hot breath and reverberating, husky tone tickle your skin until your hairs stood up.

“How wet were you?” Wonwoo purred, smirking.

Immediately, your hips were pushing down on him. “Soaked,” you then whispered, “I was making such a mess. I tried so hard to be quiet. But part of me wanted you to hear.”

Wonwoo’s hands drifted up your t-shirt, gliding slow against your stomach, coming to reach the plump, sensitive breasts that he could only surmise were waiting for his attention. He cupped them in each palm, giving a tender squeeze and pull that pitched your breath into a squeak. Caressing your neck with more wet, open-mouthed kisses, he felt the absentminded grinding reignite the friction between you.

“Did you touch up here, too?”

His thumbs brushed your pert nipples. He felt you shiver.

“Y-Yes.”

Tsking his teeth, he pleasured them with slow, rubbing circles that you mewled in response to. “You’ve got the softest skin. I could touch you until I die, and it still wouldn't be enough.”

“Mmhm,” he heard you exhale shakily, “I touch myself at home, too. Put my pillow between my legs. Pretend I’m grinding against you. Then let my fingers take me again and again until it hurts.”

How dare you fucking say that to him—how dare you put such an intimate visual in his mind to haunt him like a ghost to hallowed grounds. How many times had you done it? How many times had you stood right in front of him, smiling so innocently, despite knowing damn well what you had done to yourself the night before.

Wonwoo pinched your nipples, watching you flinch.

“Does it hurt right now?”

You nodded.

“Where?” He lowered his voice, sinking his hand back down the creases in your tummy until it paused right on your mound, his eyes trained to your suddenly very desperate, misty look. “Down here?”

“Yes.”

Holding eye contact with you, Wonwoo trailed his hand further along your panties until his touch was situated right between your thighs, directly feeling the wet fabric, the radiating heat, the aroused pulsations. Your fingernails were pricks in his shoulders.

“Fuck, you are drenched, aren’t you?” Wonwoo commented, rubbing his hand against you through the cotton material, your hips soon chasing the overwhelming pleasure. “Can feel you throbbing against my hand, you know that? Bet it aches so fucking good, hm?”

He grinned hard at your eyebrows knitting together. While he massaged you with one hand, the other gripped your chin where he pushed a hot, uncoordinated kiss onto your whiny mouth.

“Lay across my lap,” Wonwoo whispered in between the hasty break for air, “let me play with you instead, make you cum. Please.”

To his delight, your compliance came easily.

It didn’t take long for you to splay yourself in the desired position, with Wonwoo pushing up the shirt to bunch at your waist while your bottom was perfectly presented in his lap. He massaged you, leaning down to mark a trail of kisses along your lower back, along your ass—spreading you wide to see the large, soaked patch glistening on those easily rippable underwear.

“Just open your thighs a bit more,” Wonwoo instructed, to which you quickly listened, “fuck—perfect—all this, only for me.” He pushed his thumb against you through the panties and you instantly squeaked.

“Right?” He urged. “Is this all just for me?”

“Mmhm—yes, yes. I fucking promise. Just for you.”

Wonwoo bit his lip to stop the size of the immediate smile from breaking across his face. Your hips wriggled up as his touch drifted away.

“I need more,” you groaned in frustration, “please.”

“More here?” Wonwoo pulled back on one side of your glute to help reveal the sensitive area, then rubbing his thumb against your clit.

Your entire body jerked, and he noticed your fingers dig into the bedsheets, clawing them up. He figured the wet friction between his thumb and your panties was frustratingly amplifying every little sensation in a dull but very cruel way. He continued his ministrations, adding some more pressure for you to squirm and moan at.

“Does it still hurt?” Wonwoo asked, letting his other hand slide up your bare waist, the skin beginning to sweat and turn even warmer.

“Please,” you groaned, attempting to adjust your hips against the stroking from his thumb, “I feel like m’gonna fucking die, Wonwoo.”

“Still need more, then?”

“Yes!”

Deciding to throw you a bone, Wonwoo grabbed those thin, pink panties in his hand and helped you slide the constricting fabric down and off your legs. Once he spread you nice and wide, let the cold air ghost the slicken, swollen skin, you had gasped. For a moment, Wonwoo didn’t speak—he only stared at you with all the stars in the universe collecting behind his eyes, glittering like a snow globe—at how beautiful and exposed and needy you looked.

He let his fingers slide ever so slowly along your clit, drawing up to your hole, then pushing back down to hear you whimper brokenly.

Wonwoo swallowed the dryness in his throat.

“Do you have any fucking idea how beautiful you are?” He complimented, his fingers soaking in your arousal. “I knew your cunt would look pretty, but this is more than that. God…” experimentally, Wonwoo shifted a finger gentle into your opening, giving the digit a wriggle and few shallow pumps. Immediately your intense warmth clenched down tight before loosening, engendering him to effortlessly press in two more long fingers. “There you go… good girl…” he mumbled his encouragement as you gripped the bedsheets and moaned a guttural sound, “taking in my fingers so fucking well—they slide in so easy… make such perfect, dirty noises whenever they fill up this gorgeous cunt.”

His thumb touched at your clit, lending it some attention that had you twisting and bucking back to receive even more pleasure.

“God, Wonwoo…” you gasped, sounding lost to the ecstasy while letting him take his time with mapping out your inner walls with curious strokes, “that feels so fucking good. You have no idea. Feels like m’gonna pour all over you.”

He grinned, further stimulating your swollen clit, maintaining the pattern as you propped up on your elbows, tugged at the bedspread, and released a mellifluous, shuddering moan from your throat.

“F-fuck ye-yess…” you whined as his fingers squelched deeper and his thumb continued its circles, “yes, yes, yes, keep doing that—oh-oh, fuck! M’gonna cum all over your fingers—m’gonna make a mess!”

“That’s all I want,” he breathed, his chest tightening at how much arousal was pooling sticky around his digits, “that’s all I’ve ever fucking wanted—make a mess all over me, like the pretty, desperate girl you are. Let me see it. Let me feel everything. Cum just for me.”

Your entire body proceeded to seize, Wonwoo’s fingers now struggling to pump, as this striking wave seemingly coursed through you and resulted in heavy fluids wetting his dress pants. It took a moment for you to power through the pleasure, though Wonwoo was at least able to maintain his stroking gestures against your clit until he noted the sharp, almost spastic twitches in your muscles.

“That’s a good girl,” Wonwoo hummed in satisfaction while he gingerly eased his fingers out and left your poor, throbbing bud alone.

He smoothed his hand down your back, offering you a moment to relax, breathe, and ride out the electricity.

“Fuck,” you wiped at the sweat on the back of your neck, chuckling at the discomfort, “I can feel it all between my legs.”

Wonwoo smirked. Hard. He bent forward to peck your temple, then brushed his lips against your stinging hot ear. "How about I clean that all up for you?" The velvety whisper caused your body to jitter.

"Clean me up how?" You turned your head, catching his eye.

There was a swap of positions. Wonwoo lowered himself to the bedroom floor, the carpet spongey against his knees, while you lay down on your back and draped your legs off the edge of the bed. But he was hungry for you, and greedier than a treasure hunter, and you went limp as he hitched your knees over his broad shoulders.

Being face to face with your intimate heat was like the kiss of life—new energy was taking over him—giving him desire unlike any other.

He didn't know if he wanted to keep staring at you, your soft skin messy with slick and twitching anticipatorly at his closeness, or if he should stop prolonging the moment and just bury everything into you. Adjusting his glasses, Wonwoo licked his bitten lips. You were in the midst of shuffling up to your elbows, likely wondering what the hell he doing, staring between your thighs for so long.

But as quickly as you squeaked his name, it was interrupted by an intense gasp a second later. You leaned all your weight onto a single elbow, tossing your head back, panting for dear life as Wonwoo striped his tongue long and flat against your heat. His hands gripped your hips, sculpting them over your bone while he tasted your arousal, all sticky and musky and delicious to the point of addiction.

"O-Oh my god, Wonwoo," you cried, letting your body collapse onto the bedsheets, limbs becoming jelly, "that feels fucking amazing."

He licked into you like he were trying to reach the centre of a sweet, colourful jawbreaker. Every pass from his tongue was firm, encompassing, smothering you in pleasure and painting you with spit. But you reacted best when he toyed his ministrations around your sensitive clit—your back would jolt off the bed, arched, as your thighs hugged him tight—Wonwoo heard your begging akin to a distant echo. He would even smile into you, glasses all foggy, chin running in wetness, as you preached his name dumbly, losing your mind. Wonwoo pressed his mouth hot against you, flicking his tongue to your overstimulated clit, focusing hard on his pattern.

"Fuck, fuck!" You shouted, writhing into the sheets. "Please, Wonwoo. Please, please, please—I'm—I'm gonna cum! Please, just—k-keep—"

There was a surge of something warm and liquid that Wonwoo wanted to drink like a peach's nectar. You were throbbing right under his tongue and he loved it to a point that felt utterly insane. He didn't want to stop even if the world was ending. His face plunged in deeper, his hands grafting into your hips harsher, completely ignorant to your fingers pulling at his hectic locks of hair. Wonwoo only wanted you and nothing else and he was going to drown in it.

But you were attempting to sit up, your sweaty body becoming better at escaping his eager, hungry licks that dug into your slit, and once he heard you wince particularly sharp, he knew he had to stop.

He sat back, removing his glasses and wiping off his chin. You slid a leg from his shoulder, using a foot to gently prod against his chest—a light scolding for perhaps enjoying you a little too much.

"Are you starved?" You laughed heavily, gulping down a breath.

Wonwoo fit the glasses back to his face. "For you? Yes." He then licked at his teeth and lips, still yearning to find traces of your arousal, only to realize you were shaking. "Shit—I'm sorry if I hurt you." Standing up, he cupped your face, bending down to kiss you gentle on the lips over and over. "I'm so fucking sorry. You taste amazing, that's all. And you're so beautiful. I couldn't fucking help it."

With a giggle, you tousled his hair. "No, I'm fine. I like a little pain." Your eyes were back to shining. Then, you caught his mouth, stealing another kiss. "But I’m even greedier than you—," pushing yourself up, you nipped at his lips, “—and I want that pretty, long cock inside me to hit all the right spots.” The exchange had you seated back in Wonwoo’s lap, where your bare, soaked pussy was free to brush against his straining and achingly hard length.

“Yeah?” Wonwoo smirked, welcoming your spit-smeared mouth.

Feeling your hips grind against him, you purred, “yeah.”

“I’ve got no protection,” Wonwoo admitted in between the make-out session, hardly able to pry your lips from one another as you slid backward on the bed with Wonwoo climbing over top.

Helping to shove off his dress shirt and slacks, discarding them to the floor, you shook your head. “Don’t need it.”

Returning the gesture, Wonwoo had you fully undressed. The entirety of your bare body on full display felt like something sacred—an artwork that had been crafted with unimaginable attentiveness to every single detail, no matter how miniscule. He couldn't liken it to anything else in his life but a distant memory from childhood—a grand mausoleum that he found himself inside with his older brother, the ceiling intricately chiselled with angelic, satin-like bodies.

Your words seemed distant. It took a second for him to remember.

“Don't need protection? Why?"

As your hands locked behind his neck, pulling him down close, you dug into his eyes with an emotional gaze. “Finish inside me.”

He stuttered, furrowing his brow, “seriously? You won’t—”

“No. I’m taking precautions, you know.” Brushing at his dampened, thick hair, you asked, “have you ever had unprotected sex?”

Wonwoo scoffed, surprised at the inquiry, “yeah. But—is that—you really want that? With me?” He stared down at you intensely.

“I only want it if you want it, too.”

He nodded, biting his lip, taking a moment to examine your perspiring face alongside the the rising and dipping of your chest.

“I want it,” Wonwoo reaffirmed, “I definitely want it.”

Truth be told, a splinter of nerves had lodged into his chest at the thought of having to perform to your anticipation—Wonwoo was never really sure if he would ever get intimate with you—and as his gaze again streamed your body, he felt overwhelmed. But then your fingertips were stroking down his bicep, seemingly drawing out the forthcoming anxiety from him like you were pulling out a thread of energy, and the easygoing smile he was met with tamed his heart.

Wonwoo eased closer toward you, allowing your expert touches to be the guide. Your hand had returned to his length for a few more thorough and especially lentamente tugs, prompting him to hiss into your neck while very flushed shades of pink crawled up his face.

He felt himself throb, wanting to simply collapse against you and climax at your hand for the second time. To make matters even more complicated, Wonwoo felt you shift slightly, and then the tip of his impatient cock was suddenly gliding all slippery like butter along your folds. Wonwoo’s arms started to shake.

You laid your palm gentle against his neck.

“How’s that feel?” You whispered in a trembling breath, meanwhile continuing the heavenly ministrations of tracing your clit with his length. “I-I think it feels quite nice—getting you all wet.”

“Amazing,” he answered, pressing his forehead to yours and pecking at your lips, “you want me to take it from here?”

Keeping silent, your grip drifted from his erection and you seemed satisfied to let the control sway now that Wonwoo was adjusted. Just before he aligned himself, however, he looked at you and laughed.

“Can you push up my glasses real quick?”

You chuckled, “seriously?”

“What’s wrong with wanting to be see you properly?”

“Nothing,” you flashed a tender smile, then using your finger to help position the glasses back up his nose, “there you go.”

Wonwoo proceeded to slide himself inside you at a slower pace that allowed him to bask in the intimate sensation—he made damn sure every little squeeze, flutter, and convulsion your heat cushioned him with was felt—though that made it considerably hard for him not to release in pathetic fashion, before he had even made a good, swift thrust. You were soaking up the moment just as much.

He didn’t want to advert his eyes from the pleasure cascading like ripples across your face for even a second. Once he was buried in still and deep, completely stuffing you to the hilt, your breath had fogged up his glasses.

“Fuck—s-sorry—” you squirmed through the apology, your hips occasionally canting against his in unbridled twitches, “—I can hardly fucking think right now. Do you know how much you’re throbbing?”

He choked out a hoarse laugh, “do you know how insanely good you feel to me? Feels like m’gonna fucking break into a million pieces. ”

“I want you to break me into a million pieces,” you whined so needily, looping your arms around his neck, “fuck me, Wonwoo. Please.”

He was positive you had told him that in a dream once.

As euphoric as you felt clenching around him, Wonwoo truly did want the sex to last. His thrusts into your heat weren’t frantically impatient, rather they grooved incredibly, purposefully deep—each stroke was thoughtful but hard, slow but timely, and judging from your high-pitched keens and the nails scraping against his shoulder blades, he knew you were appreciating the moment just the same.

Wonwoo grasped your sweaty hands in his, your fingers interlocking tight, in order to hold them against the sea of silky pillows above your head. With another especially daggering thrust that made his teeth clench and his abdomen flutter, you had jerked and cried out his name, followed by a breathless, “rr-right there!”

A leg wrapped around his hips, your ankle digging uncomfortably into his side while he continued to push his length into the spot that was making you howl. But it was getting increasingly difficult to continue the tempo—your leg was tightening around him like a boa constrictor and your warmth was clamping down with plain strength, almost as though your body was attempting to lock him inside.

He merely squeezed your hands harder, losing his breath. “You’re almost there, aren’t you?” Taking advantage of another thorough stroke, Wonwoo had the bedframe thudding the wall, his words hotly pressing into your ear. “You’re trying to keep me suctioned in.”

Your whimpers were falling apart like crumbling clay. Wonwoo tried to understand what it was you were mewling at him, something involving his name, how good it felt, that he should keep going, meanwhile tears were springing to your eyes and wetting your glimmery cheeks. Wonwoo bit his lip. He was throbbing wildly inside your heat, knowing you were only getting dumber and turning incoherent as he speared you so intimately on his cock.

Wonwoo wasn’t going to last much longer and neither were you. He was already feeling himself burst and break—the convulsion ripped through him like a landslide and now your leg was fully hooked around his hips, pinning him against you while he emptied himself disgustingly deep inside your warmth.

The sensation must have triggered your own orgasm, because his cock felt like it was practically being suffocated as you squeezed down on him. Wonwoo thought he might blackout when you whined his name into the dim bedroom humidity, strung in a loud, trembling lilt that cracked beautifully in the middle.

Your arms were winding back around his neck, pulling his face to yours, a kiss crushed onto his awaiting mouth.

“I need more,” you panted in between the kisses, “don’t feel full enough yet. Cum inside me again, Wonwoo. Please, take me again.”

“Again?” He smiled, his glasses bumping your nose. You were completely uncaring, only nipping at him harder. “Are you sure?”

“Yes, yes, yes,” you chanted, “I’ve never been surer of anything in my fucking life.” Suddenly, you were wriggling underneath him, rolling onto your stomach, and repositioning yourself such that you were face-down-ass-up. With eyes twinkling bright in pure, carnal lust, you threw him a a yearning glance from over your shoulder. “Fuck me again, nice and deep like before." His heart shot into his throat. When you begged, it was like his world was shrinking into a bubble where only you and him existed. "Please—I need it before your cum starts leaking out. I need to be filled by you, Wonwoo. Please.” You looked like you might cry if he didn't oblige the plead.

And so he did, his fingers planting a firm grip on your strong hips.

As much as you were willing to take, he was willing to give, finding himself submerge further and further into the intoxicating nature of it all until he started to lose his mind—all he knew is that it was concerningly late at night, your bedsheets were sticky and ruined, and you had gone from being thrust into the pillows to slapping yourself down on his cock while Wonwoo hazily watched. He loved the sight of your sweat, your glowing light, your bouncing breasts and pleasure-drunk face far too much. At some point, you had slumped forward into him, spent to fucking hell.

With your chests were pressed together, his cock still throbbing and stuffed inside you, there was a moment of nothing but thick, laboured breathing and heartbeats synchronizing. He kissed your temple and wrapped his arms around you, proceeding to mumble something sweet and half-asleep that contained your name.

You had squeezed his length unforgivingly in response.

“Fuck—don’t get me hard again. I’m fucking exhausted.”

“I like when you use my name.”

He smiled into your cheek. “I can tell.”

Wonwoo had woken before you.

Mostly because the bedsheets had been gradually wrapped up and tugged away and progressively stolen from him during the night, letting the cool, morning air dust over him like spray from an ocean. You were a fidgety sleeper, he had realized, sometimes even a mumbler, although Wonwoo had never been able to discern what it was you were sluggishly declaring in your dreams.

He turned his head to you, saw the bare groove of your back, shapely like a flower petal, and your arm dug underneath the silk pillow, observing every breath your unconscious body took.

Then, Wonwoo was leaning over you, feeling his fingers sink into your fleshy waist while his lips touched a kiss against your warm cheek. He hoped you wouldn’t mind him using your washroom for a shower.

Afterward, Wonwoo retraced the apartment, finding his shoes a questionable distance apart—one stood square at the front door while the other was left in the hallway leading to your room. His winter jacket was tossed over the arm to the couch, meanwhile his phone involved a more in-depth search. For some reason, he’d left it atop a shelf beside the television, hidden by a clumsy stack of textbooks.

When he tapped the screen, it illuminated some text messages from Vernon that had been sent at around two in the morning—mostly inquiries about the birthday dinner and whether or not Wonwoo had bothered going to the famed and mysterious Room 319.

Though, he opted not to respond, realizing the details he wanted to share with his friend would likely require a sit-down discussion over burgers, fries, and sodas at Solar Pop. Making his way back to the bedroom, Wonwoo carefully creaked open the door to find you half-shoved onto an arm, making tired circles against your eye.

He smiled, coming to sit beside you, handing off the glass of water he poured for himself.

“Are you leaving?” Was the first question you blearily pieced together after accepting the water but not drinking anything from it.

Wonwoo shook his head. “No.”

You managed to sit up properly, the sheets settling around your hips while you continued holding onto the glass. For a moment, you seemed to just observe Wonwoo, your eyes still swollen from sleep.

“Where are you going, then?”

He furrowed his brow. “Nowhere,” Wonwoo laughed, pulling one leg up onto the bed. “I got up to shower. Went and found my things. Got a glass of water, which you’re now holding, by the way.”

You swallowed, looking down at your lap.

“Oh…” after a recollecting pause, you took a sip from it.

Wonwoo smiled, his eyes softening like fresh brown sugar, as he proceeded to unstick some matted hairs from the edge of your face.

“You’re a pretty big sheet stealer,” he said, continuing to spread his fingers about your features, removing fluffs and rubbing off bits of dried spit, “and you seem to like talking, even in your sleep.”

“Oh, yeah… I should have told you that.”

He shrugged. “It’s fine. I liked not knowing.”

“Did you?” With a laugh and smile, you drank some more water.

“Yeah. Because it’s you, it makes me adore it even more.”

“I don’t always mumble. I swear. Only sometimes.”

Wonwoo didn’t care. “It’s not a big deal.”

“I guess I should shower, too. Then I’ll change the sheets and get new ones on.” You abruptly raised the blankets at your lap, lifting up a leg to examine something Wonwoo couldn’t see. “Yeah, I definitely need to change the sheets… oh! And take my pill. Fuck. I can’t forget.”

“I can help with the sheets.”

“Okay,” you said while leaning forward to pull open a drawer on your nightstand, revealing a thin, silver cartridge of pills, “thanks.”

After you had showered and gotten dressed in a clean spare t-shirt, you changed the dirtied sheets to your bed together.

Then you and Wonwoo spent some time together in the open, bright living room, lounging on the couch. Maybe you had kissed a few more times, and maybe his naturally cold hands had found their way underneath your loose t-shirt to curiously massage and press along your pretty chest, and maybe you had kissed a little more after that while the sun rays slid up your sensitive skin.

You twisted away from Wonwoo’s lips with a giggle.

“M’kay, that’s enough, or else I’ll need another shower.” You grabbed at Wonwoo’s hands that had been squeezing your breasts.

Although he didn’t want to stop, he listened, relaxing against the pillow he had stuffed between his spine and the arm of the couch, now throwing an elbow behind his head. You were leaning back against him, getting comfy between his legs, and for a few minutes or so, the two of you gazed out those large, floor-length glass windows into the awakening, snow-capped city.

He felt you stir against him.

“You know… sometimes you don’t always speak English.”

Wonwoo itched his eyebrow, chuckling, “what?”

“Last night, like, when I was riding you—” your head tilted back onto his shoulder, beaming him a smile, “—you would start switching languages. In between English and Korean. It was so cute.”

“Oh, yeah.” He adjusted his glasses, staring down at you while his cheeks became rosy. “I don’t know, it’s just something my brain does automatically. I don’t always realize I’m doing it.”

You grinned; eyes sparkling. “When it feels too good?”

Ruffling a hand through his hair, he simply smirked at you.

“Having a front seat view to the most beautiful girl in the world riding me just happens to be something that makes me feel really good.”

You pushed your head up to kiss him, followed by a sweet and brief whisper that he smiled at, “compliment appreciated.”

A few more quiet minutes passed. Wonwoo thought he could spend the entire day just sitting on the couch with you warm in his arms, watching the snow tumble down like wisps of tender willows.

“Wonwoo?”

“Mm?”

You got quiet.

Then, your weight against his chest was gone, and you had half-turned yourself around to look at him, seeming nervous.

He tilted his head. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” you answered, glancing down briefly before soaking him back into your agleam eyes. “I just want to apologize, actually.”

At that, Wonwoo stiffened. “Yeah? What for?”

With a sigh and another anxious moment to fiddle with the rolled-up cuff belonging to his wrinkled dress shirt, you were reserved.

“Ever since we fought, I can't help thinking about it. I mean, I’ve thought about what you said, and the fact you apologized, and explained yourself, and how you gave me time to process it all. You gave me so much grace, even when I felt like I hated you… but… I also said some hurtful things about you… I mean, back then I felt like you deserved it. And, I don’t know… maybe you did? Like, maybe we both needed to just be there, screaming at each other, digging our guts out, throwing up all this stuff to the surface because no one else has ever given us that freedom or made us feel like we could before. Anyway, I just feel like it’s only right that I say sorry, too.”

Scratching at his neck, Wonwoo swallowed. He never thought of it like that. “Uh, sure. If that’s what you feel you need to do. ”

“I’m sorry, Wonwoo. I really, truly am.”

He smiled, grasping at your hand and threading his fingers with yours. Pangs of regret were flooding your eyes, filling them up until they were undoubtedly teary and Wonwoo had to wipe it all away.

“It’s fine, I swear,” he whispered, moving in closer to you, brushing at your cheek as you sniffled. “Nothing has ever truly changed how I feel about you. You’re incredibly firm but sensitive, and have such fiery passion, and you’re curious about everything, and I know that it hurts so much to live without really knowing yourself. But I see you, and I feel like I know you. I never want to stop knowing you, alright?”

“Wonwoo?”

“Yeah?”

Your mouth pressed against his, and he tasted the salt from the tears that beaded down the slopes of your cheeks, warm with life.

“I love you.” He felt the whisper touch at his lips. “I really do.”

Wonwoo held onto your face like he was cradling a big pearl. “I love you, too.” Another kiss sealed the expression into felt, tangible emotion. “But honestly, you already knew that.”

Later in the day, you came up to Wonwoo as he ate lunch at the table, only after having disappeared into a distant office space further down the hallway. You dropped before him a clear, plastic duotang, which held a notably thick stack of papers that had quite a weight to it upon picking up. It only took a few flips into the papers for Wonwoo to realize that it was the completed book he used to proofread for you—a series of chronological memories between yourself and the boyfriend you had gradually drifted apart from.

True to your word, you had forged ahead and finished the book alone.

He was proud to hold the evidence.

Wonwoo asked what you planned to do with the book now that it was done. He even wondered if you might let him read some parts he never got to work on, though he understood if you preferred to keep the contents private. As he was in the middle of lifting a hot spoon to his mouth, Wonwoo suddenly paused at hearing your response.

“I think I’ll just shred it.”

You didn’t seem to care.

The decision came easier than pressing a button. There was only one copy of the book, apparently, and you had plans to turn all its pages into literary confetti. But that was a very you thing to do, Wonwoo had come to accept. Writing served many purposes, and it seemed that the purpose you had sought out was met. Somewhere, in all those paragraphs, sentences, letters, and ink, you found the fulfillment you had always ached for. At last, you struck a glimmer of promising gold after digging through all the haze and confusion.

“Sure,” he answered, “shred away.”

—8 MONTHS LATER. END OF JUNE.

“It looks so pathetic!”

“What?! No it doesn’t!”

Peeking up from the mason jar of earthy blue water he’d been swirling together using some dirtied paintbrushes, Wonwoo saw you seated across from him, talking to a very dismayed, upset twelve-year-old girl. Sierra’s little sister, Cora, had enrolled in his landlord’s ceramics class over the summer, and thus every Saturday evening she spent her time moulding unwilling chunks of grey clay alongside other similarly aged students. It was only Cora in the shop since she had been the last to get her teapot in the kiln, taking extra time with every minute detail.

Though, despite her care and attentive pace, Cora was still not pleased with the teapot, leading her to grumble and shake her head.

You were sitting beside her, a hand rubbing along the little girl’s back while she continued scrutinizing her creation. Ever since you moved into Wonwoo’s apartment back in May, Saskia had quite liked you more than her average tenant, and that somehow transformed into an offer to help her teach the summer ceramics class (with pay).

Wonwoo was always there to assist in the clean-up afterward—his favourite part was submerging all the greasy, bristly paintbrushes into a clean jar of water so that he could watch how their colours bled out in thin, swirling hues.

“No, no, no—it’s just bad.”

“I’m telling you. It’s not.”

Cora picked up the lid to the pot, then placed it back down. “There—look—it doesn’t even close properly. And the spout is not spouty enough… it’s too thick, I think. Hardly any tea will go through!”

“Well, I really like it.”

Tucking a tuft of poofy, rust-brown hair behind her ear, Cora gave you a suspecting and funny sort of look that made Wonwoo smile to himself. She was a very shy student, but she talked to you the most.

“You say that about everything I make,” Cora sighed.

“So what?”

“So…” she nibbled on her small lip, looking off to the side, “you have to say that, because you're nice. You’re like my mom. She says she loves everything I make. But then why don’t I ever love it?”

“She loves it because you made it, obviously. And she loves you. I think love changes how we look at things. Even the impractical.” Then, you picked up her teapot and moved it closer. “You know why I like this teapot? Because it shows you’re determined. I mean, look at all those bowls on the newspaper over there—you’re the only one who did the teapot! And you did it mostly by yourself. You wouldn’t even let me help you roll out the clay. So, that’s why I like it. Because I see you in it. And when you tackle it again, you’ll know what to do differently. Plus, you know you can ask me for help, right? You know I’ll always help you.”

The little girl’s freckled face suddenly became less twisted with judgement and frustration. She set her elbows onto the table, scratching at a Hello Kitty bandaid along the back of her hand, while you gave her hair a quick ruffle. Wonwoo started drying off the paintbrushes using paper towel before moving them into the cup labelled “clean” with a piece of tape.

“What should I do with this, then? If it won’t work,” Cora asked.

You shrugged. “I don’t know. But for now, just leave it with the other stuff. We’ll give it a nice glaze next time around. Make it even prettier. Then you can decide what to do with it—whether or not you want to keep it or smash it on the ground. It’s up to you, Cora.”

Wonwoo tilted his head. “Why don’t you turn it into a miniature flower pot or something? Fill it with soil and plant something in it?”

Cora raised her eyebrows. “I like that idea, actually.”

“Me too,” you said, shooting Wonwoo a sly wink that he smiled very stupidly at, “look at this guy over here. Lurking with his good ideas.”

By the time Sierra was available to pick up her sister, Wonwoo had officially finished cleaning all the paintbrushes and whittling tools, as well as replacing the tablecloth with a fresh one. The three of you stood at the base to the shop’s very small stoop, exchanging some general conversation while a sleepy Cora held onto her sister’s hand and leaned her seemingly heavy head against her side.

The sky was a tame yellow shade, not as bright as a buttercup, but something delicate of the like.

“Hey—I heard you guys are planning a vacation!” Sierra chirped, adjusting the car keys in her hand, “is that all true?”

“Yeah,” you nodded, flashing Wonwoo a soft smile, “uh, we decided that we’re gonna spend some time in South Korea. I haven’t visited his family at all. But, yeah. Gonna leave start of August and come back right before October. So, a pretty good chunk of time.”

“No way!” She exclaimed.

“We’ll see how it pans out,” Wonwoo commented, sliding his arm around your waist and digging his fingers into your hip. “But my brother won’t shut his mouth about meeting her. And my parents are obviously curious. Besides, there are some great places I want to show off.”

Sierra shook her head. “I’m jealous. And totally sure you guys will have a great experience together. We’ll miss you here, though.”

“Please do,” you laughed, and Sierra pinched your cheek.

She then looked down at her sister, who had her eyes shut.

“Okay, I’m gonna get this little dove home. Thank you so much for helping her at ceramics by the way. She talks about you all the time.”

“Really?” You touched at your face, seeming flustered. “Well, I love helping her out. She’s a sweet girl with a lot of will on her shoulders.” Lowering your voice, you moved in closer to Sierra. “I’ll keep my eyes peeled for a cute gift she can have while we’re gone.”

After parting ways with Sierra and Cora, you and Wonwoo returned upstairs, back into the apartment to prepare for supper.

Both of you were feeling particularly lazy, and the shiny red tomato he was supposed to chop ended up being ignored in place of eating ice cream straight from its tub.

You were the one who grabbed it—Wonwoo was only following suit as he picked up a spoon and curved some out.

Something else interesting about you that Wonwoo had learned since moving in together was that you didn’t really care to ever sit on a chair, even when you were eating. It was either the sofa, the floor, or the kitchen table, in which you would be holding onto your food even though he always thought how easier it could be if you did sit down properly. The quirk was fun, nonetheless, and Wonwoo had admittedly started looking at the kitchen table in a different light after he proceeded to give you oral on it one night. Consequently, it bloomed a very dangerous habit between the two of you.

A habit that might become drastically less accessible once you two jetted off to his native country for over a month, confined between his parent’s cozy home where he grew up and the two-story apartment his wealthy brother and sister-in-law owned in the glittering heart of South Korea’s Seoul. He was nervous. You were nervous. But at least you were together.

Over the months, your parents had gradually come to accept him as your boyfriend, even if they weren't exactly warmed up to the idea at the start. Wonwoo revisited your home a few times alongside you to help in the explanations of your story and future prospects, although he partially understood that Mingyu was like a precious sapphire to your family and having him out so suddenly was hard to stomach.

He spent years nestling himself a comfortable burrow and smoothing out the bumps to make a crafty façade that, particularly your mother, couldn't help but outwardly adore. Like a son. Like Seokmin, too.

Wonwoo thought Mingyu might give him trouble.

In truth, he'd scarcely seen him, unless transient glimpses of his towering, quickly bustling figure from across a university campus or city street were noteworthy. Obviously, he wasn't inside Mingyu's head and he really had no inclination as to what the boy might be thinking on the occasion he spotted you and Wonwoo hand-in-hand at the park, or sharing breakfast at the café along Sunnyside.

But if Mingyu maintained even half the feelings that Wonwoo did for you, then he was positive it hurt like fucking hell.

Of all people, Wonwoo supposed he himself knew best.

—AUGUST 1ST.

“Wonwoo!”

He closed his dresser drawer, almost slamming his fingers inside. Your voice echoed from the living room, sounding hectic.

“Yes? What’s up!”

“The taxi’s here!”

Fuck. He immediately thought. The time was flying by.

Wonwoo had made a gigantic list of what to pack, but over time he kept adding and taking things away from it. Now, it was early morning, soft rain and cracks of bursting light coming down outside, and he was doing a final clean-sweep of the bedroom as well as his poorly scribbled list to ensure everything he needed was with him.

Quickly approaching the window, Wonwoo glanced outside to see the cab parked at the curb. Fuck. Again. Vernon always said he would happily provide you two a ride to the airport, but then the boy was unsurprisingly wrapped back into some trouble, and Wonwoo hadn’t seen his best friend in over a week.

Graciously, however, Vernon had given him a heads up and a proper goodbye beforehand. He’d even left him a voicemail to listen to, which immediately jumped into Wonwoo’s brain at random as he scrambled around the bedroom in search of his phone.

“Just give me one more minute!” Wonwoo shouted.

There was a pause on your end, and then a sigh.

“Do you need help?”

“No—all good. I promise. Can you let the cab driver know?”

“I will.”

“Thank you!” Wonwoo sang, finding the phone blended into his bedsheets, then proceeding to open his inbox. “I love you!”

“I love you, too!” You shouted back. “Just hurry the fuck up!”

He let Vernon’s message play while also tossing his suitcase onto the bed, stuffing in a few more last-minute grabs with utter clumsiness.

“Heyyy, Glasses! How are things? I’m shooting you this cute little message at arounddd—oh! Looks like it’s two in the mornin’! It’s two in the fuckin’ mornin’ and I’m pulled up outside this dude’s house all ‘cause he can’t pay me back for my good, hard services. It’s nothin’ serious, though. Don’t get all uptight like usual. You know I’m good at handlin’ stuff and keepin’ my cool. Probably my better qualities. Anyway, I’m bored as fuck. I’ve spun this Lloyd CD about four times and I just can’t listen to that dude anymore. He can sing, though.

I am pissed you’re leavin’ me. And I’m pissed she’s leavin’ me, too. You guys are what I look forward to whenever I drive down into that shithole city. Well, I think just about every city’s a shithole city. In fact, the city I’m in now is probably more of a shithole… Seokmin texted me the other day—said he wants to talk—which is vague as fuck and to be honest, I’ve been ignorin’ it ‘cause I can’t get myself to give a god damn. But maybe I’ll hear him out. That guy was a cutie, wasn’t he? I still think you’re a bit cuter. And better at mini-put.

I’ll miss you a lot when you’re down there… it got me thinkin’ about the night when we first met. The New Year’s Eve party. You remember that pretty well, don’t’chya? I saw you come in with those guys—they didn’t look like your crowd at all—but then after a while you were alone. Wanderin’ around. It didn’t even seem like you knew anyone else was there. You had the blankest look on your face. Like you were stuck in a loop and you didn’t even know it. I don’t know that I felt pity or anything… hell, maybe I felt a little. I just talked to ‘ya ‘cause I wanted to know if you knew where you even were.

You knew you were at some stupid, loud, awful fuckin’ house party jammed with unfamiliar faces. You knew how much you hated bein’ there. But I don’t think you actually knew how you got there, or why, or what was supposed to happen next. It kinda drew me to you. I wanted to understand it. And you gave me the weirdest look, too, when I stopped you. But once I got you outside, away from all the bullshit, you loosened up just a bit and I realized I was talkin’ to this smart, well-rounded, thoughtful guy who was just a little lost in the weeds.

I know you didn’t really care about me like that. I was just some jumped-up weirdo who could give you mint weed at a sweet price. But I still liked you… I dunno… other people see you differently when they care a whole lot, don’t they? I guess they see things about you that others can’t, or they know exactly what you could be when others don’t. They see stuff even you can’t see. It’s like a superpower, I think… my best superpower is probably makin’ girls giggle. I’ve got a lot of charm, wouldn’t you agree? Ha—anyway—stay safe on your trip, tell Her that I’ll miss her a lot, too—oh! Oh!

Fuck! That’s it. That little fucker is comin’ outside—he can’t resist his two am darts on the porch. God bless you, nicotine! Okay, uh, guess this is me hangin’ up on you. Later, Wonwoo!”

At that point, everything Wonwoo needed was packed. But he’d taken the additional time to complete Vernon’s voicemail, now sitting on the edge of his bed while staring out into the early, glimmering rain shower and the water droplets collecting against his window.

Then, Wonwoo glanced down at the laptop he had open.

He hadn’t written in… months. Not even months—it had been over a year since Wonwoo wrote. And, somehow, it felt good not to write.

It felt necessary to step away from the craft.

Besides, writing would always be there. Just because he hadn’t filled up a document on his computer with harmoniously arranged words, or penned anything down in the journal he used to scribble poetry in, that didn’t make him not a writer. In fact, it could be crucial to know when to step away from something—when to let go of an invisible weight keeping one from progressing. While he hadn’t thought about it in months, it floated to the surface of his mind that there may be something he should let go.

The unfinished book. 01.

Wonwoo deleted it. Simple as that.

Shoving the laptop into his shoulder-sling bag, Wonwoo made sure to knab his journal from the nightstand before he left, just in case anything did excite him with a crack of inspiration as he embarked on his newest chapter with you at his side. Rolling his suitcase hurriedly behind him, Wonwoo rushed out onto the street, feeling the rain graze his hair and skin, while you were leaned against the cab, arms folded and teeth anxiously raking over your bottom lip.

He peppered the cab driver in apologies while he helped shove the suitcase into the trunk.

“Liar—” you grumbled after sliding into the cab, undoing the buttons on your coat, “—you said one minute, not one lifetime.”

“I know, I know,” Wonwoo laughed, removing his glasses to rub off the mist and dew, “but that voice mail from Vernon distracted me.”

“Let me do it,” you said, taking his glasses with a sigh, “we should be fine. I know we’ll make it on time… I guess I’m just on edge.”

He watched you massage at the lenses gently with a sleeve. The driver climbed back into the cab, now pulling away from the pottery shop and driving toward the beam of light that sliced through the dense clouds, like the sun was handling a giant blade.

“Everything’s gonna work out, I promise… and I already told you that we’ll be staying with Bohyuk first, right? Him and Nari?”

Handing the glasses back to Wonwoo, you nodded.

“Yeah… god—I hope he likes me.”

“Oh, he will. You guys are pretty similar, actually.”

The look you gave him warbled slightly.

“What if that’s a bad thing? Every time you tell me a story about your brother, it usually involves you loathing him for something.”

“Those stories took place years ago.”

“But the feelings are still there, aren’t they?”

Wonwoo settled his hand over top yours, giving your fingers a soothing squeeze. He knew you wanted to make the perfect first impression. After all, first impressions were not something that could be easily taken back or erased, unless the people you were meeting were quite forgiving. And Bohyuk was fortunately the forgiving type.

It was only time that Wonwoo exercise the quality as well.

Leaning in close to your face, Wonwoo gazed into your eyes, watching their frantic nature become still like the surface of a calm pond.

“You’ve got nothing to worry about, alright?” He murmured.

Huffing out an intense, long breath, you nodded.

“Alright… can I have a kiss, please?”

Lifting his hand to graze against the side of your cheek, he paused to admire your beauty for a moment, only to properly cup your face and push his lips to yours—which tasted sweet and balmy—before feeling you push back firm. He proceeded to give you another soft kiss for good measure, one that cured you to smile all fluttery and coy against his mouth until he was inevitably smiling, too.

In fact, Wonwoo only ever found himself smiling that hard when he was with you.

—END.

heyyyy :] ramble incoming...

first and foremost, ABOVE ALL ELSE, i just want to say thank you! i know this was a very, very long fic for me to be uploading on tumblr. this site is not the most fanfic friendly (or creation friendly for that matter) so stomaching the fact that this needed to be split up into so many parts was like a dagger to the heart! for those who decided to buckle up and lock into this journey, i honestly thank you so much <3 life was not always kind in the process of writing this (hence the fact it took me 2 years, plus some extra) but i was so dedicated to seeing this story through! a lot of the frustration i was feeling toward myself was funnelled into wonwoo's character, so this is quite personal :3

nonetheless, i hope there's something, even a single thing, someone else can take away from the story as well! both wonwoo and her as characters introduce their own unique themes--wonwoo (at the core) is more so about learning to let go in order to progress, whereas her is about using creative tools to help guide the search for identity. i think that writing has helped me learn a lot about myself (even uncomfy, icky things) so i wanted that to be represented through her.

of course, these are not the only things they stand for! but these are the elements i based their characters on, to which other concepts sprouted from. i also loved the idea of pairing someone as lost and misguided and emotionally stunted as wonwoo with this girl who seems so bossy and firm. at first he doesn't like it, but that was really what he needed to accept some of the flaws holding him back. idk if you're familiar with the EXCUSE ME! HE ASKED FOR NO PICKLES! meme but that's what comes to mind when i think of them xD

additionally: special shout out to vernon. he became a much bigger part of this story than i originally intended. he is in some ways wonwoo's foil. vernon knows he's flawed but that's sorta his strength and what makes him genuine. he witnesses wonwoo's entire journey, so at times he also feels like our role, the "reader" and gives wonwoo some wisdomy parting words without rly knowing it (but that's part of his charm <3 i don't want vernon's emotional intelligence to be underrated, which is also an ode to the conversation wonu & her have back in the museum. wonwoo knows there are different types of intelligence and emotionally he is lackinggg).

also small s/o to seokmin. SORRY! HAD TO DO IT!

this has been my slowest slowburn! i wasn't sure how late they were going to kiss. but i didn't want to force anything. i wanted to add the moment when i felt it was surely right! also, if you haven't yet listened to the playlist and you're curious, i recommend listening to the very last song, writer, by ellie goulding. i've been listening to that song for many years, and one day it hit me how coincidentally her lyrics overlap with some of the fic's storyline!

i think it adds a nice final touch <3

LASTLY!

upon contemplation, i will be uploading this fic to ao3 in the same chaptered format it's been posted here! i realize the convenience to bookmarking on that site (and it also doesn't give people's phones a heart attack when trying to read something lengthy) so i hope that appeases some of you who wish to reread with more leisure! i'll be under the username @/uglypluto!

i'll upload the final chapter (this chapter) to ao3 probably between late sunday & early monday.

THANK YOU x100! 💕

#seventeen scenarios #wonwoo scenarios #seventeen x reader #wonwoo x reader #seventeen imagines #seventeen fanfic #wonwoo imagines #wonwoo fanfic #svt scenarios #svt fanfic #svt x reader #seventeen fluff #seventeen smut #seventeen angst

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svtminghaolove · 2 years

Text

Announcing the engagement - Hip hop unit (SVT)

Hellooo lovlies ~ Do you guys want to know something sick I just realized when I were going to make this post? International GF masterlist has reached over a 1000(!?) notes. That’s insane. Like wow. Thank you. Wow. yeah... Well, enjoy.

Triggers: Online hate

S.Coups: You guys waited until like 3 months before the wedding until announcing it to the public.

The two of you of course started with telling the members, since half of them were in the building as you said yes. To your surprise, the guys were very surprised by the announcement. Apparently Seungcheol had told no one except from his parents and yours. But even though the guys were surprised, it was a happy one. Everyone were so happy for the two of you, and excited for what's to come.

And his parents wee just happy for the two of you, your parents on the other hand were a bit worried about the potential back lash from social media but still very happy to get Seungcheol as a son-in-law. But to be honest, you were a bit worried about the reactions the two of you would get from the fans, even though you knew that most of Carats liked you together with Seungcheol.

And when you went to the office, the two of you had to stay and talk out the "strategy" of how to deal with the news. It was a long conversation that didn't really help with your nerves.

"You okay?", Seungcheol asked as he parked the car outside your apartment complex. You tilted your head in his direction and gave him a weak smile.

"Just nervous. You're the first one in the group to get married, I don't really know what reaction to expect from the fans", you said and he leaned over and took your hand in his.

"I think they will be happy. Most of them at least", you let out a dry laugh and shook your head. "Of course there is going to be some shock, but we've been together for three and a half year, and public for two and a half. Most of them probably realized where this was going, don't underestimate Carats", he smiled and you rolled your eyes but nodded.

"Yeah, alright. You're right."

"Like always", you snorted and shoved away his hand.

"Goodnight doofus", you laughed and opened the door. "I'll call you when I get home form school tomorrow."

"Yeah, love you"

"Love you too"

And three months later the announcement was made and Seungcheol's prediction had been terribly off. Withing minutes of the announcements you started to get so much hate. People were saying that you were ruining Seungcheol's life and career, that you weren't worthy to be his wife and so on. It got to a point where you couldn't even go to class without running into people who would hurl insults at you.

And Seungcheol was devastated by the reactions, he really not expected people to react this way and found that the only way to deal with this was by doing an official live addressing the "problems" regarding his engagement to you.

He sat completely quiet for the first ten minutes of the live, just staring at the comments rolling in.

"Carats…", he breathed out, trying to keep his tears in and his anger down. "I'm so disappointed and sad about the reactions to my engagement.", he sighed and leaned forward in the chair and put his head in his hands. He went quiet for a little while, collecting his emotions.

"You guys get to have your opinion, I took the decision to become an idol and therefore parts of my private life became public. And if this announcement has somehow made you guys disappointed with me, I'm… I am following my heart here and can't say that I'm sorry for doing so, but I do accept your disappointment.", he looked up again. "But I have to draw the line now. I can't accept the fact that y/n is getting hate sent to her daily. That the last couple of days someone has been sending her threatening text, comments and such. It's become so bad that she can't even go to school anymore.", his breath was shaking as he breathed in and he pressed his lips together in a thin line.

"If you need to get upset, take it out on me. Y/n hasn't done anything wrong, she didn't choose to become a public figure like I did. I am the one who dragged her into the spotlight, the one who chose to love her, the one who proposed to her. Blame me.", he went quiet again and read the comments. "That's all I've got to say.", and he ended the live.

After his own announcement, the hate toned down quite a lot. Some of the fans even started to speak up for you, saying that they were happy that Seungcheol was marrying someone who made him as happy as you did.

Wonwoo: The fact that the two of you had gotten engaged was a surprise to literary no one. Everyone knew that you were it for him, his family knew, your family knew, the members knew and even the fans knew that if Wonwoo was going to get married, it was going to be with you.

That also meant that it was no hurry for the two of you to announce it yet. Of course the two of you called you families, both part who was really happy for the two of you (but like said, not really surprised). Then you and Wonwoo decided to just take it easy for a couple of days, since you had the chance anyhow. You guys spent a lot of time at home just talking and dreaming about the future; When and where should the wedding be? Should it be traditional Korean or a westernized wedding? How many should you invite? Where should the honeymoon be?

The two of you got pretty caught up in your own heads, so much that Wonwoo completely forgot to inform the members about the fact that you had said yes. He had told them before the weekend that he was going to propose and by the end of the weekend the group chat were going crazy. Unluckily for the guys Wonwoo had tuned off his notifications, and the guys didn't want to call incase they would interrupt something.

So when the next practice day came he was basically ambushed by twelve curious men asking: "DID SHE SAY YES!?".

"Oh, right I forgot to text you guys, didn't I?", Wonwoo laughed softly. "Yeah, she said yes.", and cheers erupted from the guys. He was hugged, congratulated and patted on the back. And then he had to go through how he did it, Hoshi and Jeonghan wanted and reenactment but Wonwoo settled with just telling them.

You guys decided to hold on from telling Carats and the public for a few weeks as well but when then you guys announced it by posting a picture of him holding your bejeweled hand and the caption:

'Thank you for coming into my life and deciding to stay in it.

I hope Carats are as happy as we are about this

Thank you so much for everything <3'

Mingyu: Everyone close to the two of you basically already knew, I mean: DK and Hoshi were helping out getting the house ready. And Mingyu couldn't keep his mouth shut, he had talked to everyone and discussed how to get the most romantic proposal with all the members.

So since everyone had known that today was the day, it wasn't actually the two of you who spread the news that you had said yes: it was DK and Hoshi. After congratulating the two of you (and asking if it was okay to tell people) they left the two of you alone and updated the other guys on what had happened. You and Mingyu on the other hand just enjoyed each other and the first evening the two of you had been off work in a long while.

When the daybreak came your phones were filled with congratulations and a text from his manager just telling Mingyu to just say when. Both of you knew that it wouldn't be possible to keep this quiet (Because Mingyu would snitch on the two of you) for long and therefore it only took a few days before the announcement was made.

Out of all the members engagement announcements, this was probably the one who broke the most hearts. The internet got filled with teenage girls crying their hearts out in the comment sections of his Instagram, willowing in the despair of the fact that: "Mingyu won't marry meeeeeee" </3".

To be honest, the two of you just thought it was kind of cute how the fans was reaction and Mingyu just posted a picture of him pouting with the caption:

'Sorry Carat, she stole my heart before I even knew it </3'

Which… let's just say that it didn't exactly calm down the situation. (But ofc that attention-seeker loved it)

Vernon: Yeah, no the two of you didn't really do an announcement to be honest. You guys just calmly brought it up in conversations when you met the people, and everyone was excited for you, no one were really surprised but it didn't make them any less happy. But it was actually an accident found out by the fan that made the whole thing public.

The two of you had not necessarily been keeping it a secret but you hadn't really felt the need to post it on social media, but it happened when the two of you were away on a weekend trip. You had been taking pictures and videos, and had of course been posting online. By this point you'd gotten so used to the weight of the ring on your finger that both you and Vernon just forgot about it when you posted a picture of the two of you. It was a sweet picture where you were squishing Vernon's face with your hand and basically showing off your ring for the world to see.

It only took about… five minutes before the rumor were all over the internet "SEVENTEEN's Vernon engaged with long-term girlfriend, the runway model y/n"

After a quick call with PLEDIS they posted an announcement confirming the rumors, and you and Vernon posted a short explanation online. The reactions weren't that big, people was happy for you and writing that you two would have beautiful babies. You didn't really pay that much attention to what the public was saying because, let's be honest: you knew that mostly people were just teasing Vernon and getting ready to make wedding memes.

-----

Masterlist

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Taglist:@foxdaisy @pearlygraysky @cixrosie @thmrdrs

#svt #seventeen #svt imagine #seventeen imagine #svt imagines #seventeen imagines #svt preferences #seventeen preferences #svt fic #seventeen fic #svt fanfic #seventeen fanfic #svt x reader #seventeen x reader #svt x female reader #seventeen x female reader #svt hip hop unit #seventeen hip hop unit

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thelaughtercafe · 6 months

Note

Hello! I'm very happy to found your blog... since you said you accept darker content request... would you mind doing something related to "bullying" with lee kageyama and ler oikawa? I feel like only Oikawa strong enough to bully Kageyama, because Kageyama itself was already intimidating in my opinion... Thank you so much in advance! P.S. please avoid foot tickles hehe

Tea Type: Black Coffee

Potential Triggers: Bullying using tickling, I'm gonna give a non-con warning for tickling too, some trauma responses and panicked behavior

Pairing: Oikawa/Kageyama

Length: 1.6k+

Summary: A chance meeting leads to familiar feelings and anxieties thought long forgotten.

A/N: Hope you enjoy this anon, apologies for the wait! I was a little unsure just how dark I wanted to go with it so it took a bit to finish it but I hope you enjoy the final product! Definitely let me know whatcha think <3

Chance Meetings*

“Is that who I think it is?”

Kageyama froze in place; a long forgotten feeling of dread settling in his stomach. He felt his heart beat faster, heat flooding his cheeks as his eyes darted around, looking for an escape. He knew he shouldn't have gone to the sports store today. If he ran- he just knew he wouldn't get far. Not with him.

A familiar arm slung around his shoulder and he whirled to lock eyes, still frozen.

Oikawa laughed, eyes glittering in amusement at Kageyama's shock.

“I should've known if I'd catch you anywhere it'd be here; heard you've been doing pretty well for yourself nowadays. Your team is pretty good.”

Kageyama nodded stiffly, wanting nothing more than for this to be over with. Maybe if he just told him what he wanted to hear he'd leave without a fuss. He cleared his throat and shrugged off Oikawa's arm, turning his face away as he headed towards the doors, trying to make it look casual. He tried to ignore the lump in his throat as he followed just behind him, a cheerful grin on his face.

“Yeah, yours too. You're just as strategic as ever.”

“What can I say? Got to keep my opponents guessing~”

He tried not to remember his old encouragement methods, but failed, feeling more heat in his cheeks as he reached his car. He felt the weight in his chest begin to subside, a bit of genuine happiness making a small smile spread across his lips.

“Sorry to cut the conversation short, I've actually got to meal prep for this week, but it was great seeing you again.”

Kageyama turned to try and open his car door but inhaled as Oikawa leaned over him, one arm over his head, subtly keeping the door closed and drawing his attention back his way. He tried not to flinch at the way Oikawa's once playful, light expression darkened, but only in his eyes. His voice and words remained bubbly. They were still in public after all.

“Aww but I haven’t seen you in soo long Tobio~ I can help you! You don't mind me tagging along do you?”

Kageyama debated his options, nibbling his bottom lip and came to a decision. There really wasn't one. Oikawa was nothing if not resourceful, and stubborn. If he didn't agree now? He'd just get it worse later. Oikawa had never had any issues biding his time. He'd once said it gave him time to think up more “fun ideas”. For him, of course.

So, Kageyama nodded with a sigh.

“Sure, fine, whatever.”

He rubbed the back of his neck uncomfortably and Oikawa giggled, his eyes lighting right back up at his agreeance and poked Kageyama's unguarded midsection, making him jump and cover his stomach.

“Aww c'mon cheer up Tobio! We'll have so much fun!”

Kageyama grumbled and got into his car as Oikawa moved over to his own after a cheerful wave to follow him home.

Once there, things were nicer than Kageyama expected honestly. He helped him meal prep, talking animatedly about setting strategies that he too couldn't help but get passionate about, and their favorite college teams. Kageyama was finally relaxing from being jumpy at Oikawa’s surprise attack earlier when he struck while they were relaxing in the living room.

Kageyama had sat on the other end of the couch when Oikawa eagerly bounded forward and straddled his waist. Kageyama grappled with him but quickly found himself overpowered, with his hands pinned under Oikawa's legs as he straddled his waist.

Oikawa laughed gleefully and cooed at him as Kageyama glowered up at him.

“Aww, you didn't really think I'd letcha off the hook, how did ya? What kind of friend would I be if I didn't test your endurance? You know; for old times sake~”

Kageyama's heart beat wildly and he growled, trying to make himself more threatening. It worked on everyone in Karasuno, and even with his current team. Most normal people would've cowered, and apologized- but Oikawa was the one bastard that had never worked on. Not ever since he found out this stupid, downright humiliating weakness of his.

It was kind of hard to be taken seriously when you were laughing your head off, and squealing like a child.

“Now where to start, where to start? Any volunteers?”

Oikawa sounded sadistic as ever, eyes scanning his body for the slightest movement now that they were alone and Kageyama discreetly tried to squirm. No dice. He was stuck. Unfortunately he bucked his hips in the process and Oikawa’s eyes lit up.

“I never took you to be so eager Tobio~ But if you insist!”

Kageyama threw his head back in mirth as Oikawa drilled his thumbs into his hipbones, making him really buck, for all the good it did him.

“Hhehehehey! Cut it ohohout, get off mehehehe!”

“Nah, you must be having fun. Look at that beaming smile you’ve got! So cute~”

Kageyama groaned in annoyance at that, feeling his blush darken.

“Ugh! I am nhahahahat! I swear when you let me up you’re dehehehead!! You hehehear me!? Dead!”

Oikawa’s eyes sparkled with mirth as he jeered down at him, his fingers ruthlessly toying with his hips before one jumped to scribble at his tummy, his shirt having ridden up from his struggling.

“Oho? Still have it in you to threaten me? That’s not very sportsmanlike of you Tobio! Besides, we both know you’d never be able to overpower moi!”

Kageyama wished he had the strength to fight back, to prove him wrong but tickling had always made him helpless, unable to do anything but laugh. He’d tried to get him back later, give him a taste of his own medicine once, back in college.

It hadn’t gone well- Iwaizumi had walked in and all chances had evaporated in front of his eyes. Two on one was hardly fair, but seeing the momentary panic in Oikawa’s eyes and the snort he’d let out had been worth it. At least till he had been wrecked to tears for the attempt.

His struggling finally bore fruit as he bucked particularly aggressively when Oikawa moved suddenly from his hip to the bottom of his ribs, finally allowing one of his hands freedom. He grabbed his wrist, tugging the offending hand up and off of him, panting and glaring. It wasn’t very threatening apparently, as Oikawa merely giggled at him, the fingers spidering along his stomach pausing. He cocked his head at him, brown eyes glittering with amusement.

“Oho? I’m impressed Tobio! You’ve bulked up since our school days!”

The hand at his tummy jumped to his exposed underarm and Kageyama yelped, air leaving him in a rush. Now that’s he’d gotten one of his hands, he had some leverage and strength and knowing he didn’t have much time, he acted. He raised his knee so it was flush against his captor’s side and brought both their hands down against the couch to push off his tricep to turn. Oikawa wasn’t expecting his sudden movements, and tumbled to the ground beside the couch, freeing his other hand in the process. He quickly released Oikawa’s wrist and jolted up, and over him seeking refuge in his bedroom and slammed it behind him, locking it just as a body slammed against it, causing it to jump back in surprise.

He panted, swallowing harshly, hands trembling as he tried to think rationally. Oikawa wouldn’t break his door down. That was too direct for a scheming bastard like him. His eyes scanned the room for his phone and he felt his blood turn to ice as he realized it wasn’t here. Shit. The banging stopped, and Oikawa’s too sweet voice came through.

“Aw c’mon Tobio, we were just playing~ I guess you’re a tad more sensitive than I remember. Sorry if I pushed you too much; if you come out, I promise I’ll play nice~”

Kageyama snorted, glaring at the door. He felt bolder, now that he was safe from his old “friend”.

“I’m not the same naive college kid you tormented, just leave, alright? I’m not gonna fall for your sweet words anymore!”

There was stony silence and Kageyama immediately regretted his speaking out, but it was too late to take it back now.

So instead, he listened, backing up to sit on his bed and try to process. He couldn’t believe he’d been so stupid. Why did he bring him here? Now he knew his address. Maybe…Maybe he really hadn’t changed that much after all. If he was honest with himself, he’d always known some part of him missed Oikawa. For all his faults, his lack of listening sometimes…those good moments were still good. Maybe he was over-reacting-

He shook his head, holding his head in his hands. He was doing it again. Falling back on old habits to cope with Oikawa being in his life.

“Tobio, I’m going to head out now! I put your meals in the fridge. And…I’m sorry. Really.”

Kageyama looked at the door with wide eyes. Oikawa actually sounded…remorseful. He sounded serious. Still, he didn’t move until he heard his door slam, and even then he held his breath and put his ear to his door, listening for any sign of footsteps, just in case. He twisted the knob and then headed back to the living room, letting out a breath as he realized he was truly gone.

Everything was cleaned up, his living room just as it was, as if he was never there to begin with.

He jumped in place at a sound, and his eyes flew to his phone, making him sigh. Just a text message. Stupid body. Why was he still so on edge?

He grabbed his phone and swiped it open.

His eyes widened and his grip tightened, his other hand moving to cover his mouth.

An unknown number.

The message?

‘Let’s meet up again sometime Tobio~’

#tlc: tickle fics #tlc: black coffee #ler!oikawa #ler! oikawa #lee! kageyama #lee!kageyama #haikyuu tickle #haikyuu tickle fic #oikawa x kageyama #oikawa tooru #kageyama tobio #haikyuu #tw noncon #tlc: nsft #tlc: asks #anon

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bengiyo · 2 months

Text

Knock Knock Boys Ep 8 Stray Thoughts

Last time, Latte took Almond to the beach so he could relax and unwind. While there, he tried to teach Almond how to pick up strangers, but got concerned when Almond intentionally got drunk too fast. He pulled Almond out of that situation and took him back to their room where they kissed for the first time in a scene full of complex emotional layers. Latte stopped them before it went too far, and later shared his own family beach trip trauma. Meanwhile, Thanwa is back with Max and has decided to move back in with him. Peak waited too long, and so Thanwa is choosing to make pragmatic choices in his life to accept a job he doesn’t like and be with a man who isn’t great to him because he’s wealthy.

Trigger warning for 35:00 to 35:30 for attempted sexual assault.

Ew, is MAX the one who is uploading the clips??

I do love the commitment to using Almond waking up Latte as a framing device for the state of the house.

Oh, Peak, you tried.

What in the Princess Leia is this towel arrangement on his head?

These boys are crumbling so fast without Thanwa feeding them.

Okay, I feel better. Thanwa only intends to stay with Max briefly and is not giving him any suckface.

I’m really glad they got Pak for this role. He put a lot of power into that reconciliation scene with Almond and Latte. I like that they’re letting Almond have both desires: Yes he wants to prove his innocence, and yes he wants to help his friend. These are not at cross purposes.

Thank you, Lukpeach. We gotta actually solve the problem.

Gays, let’s please get it together. Y’all are making me feel awkward and I’m not even at this restaurant.

Peak, I understand you, and I am also so frustrated with you.

There’s something so perfect from the costuming of Thanwa in these clothes. They aren’t sitting correctly on him. He looks uncomfortable.

THIS LOOKING BACK AND MISSING EACH OTHER IS DRIVING ME INSANE.

I am in my 30s and spent my 20s either hustling or working in small businesses. There’s way too much chatter in the discourse about red and green flag human beings that strips them of nuance and personality. Let’s talk about a real red flag from a fucking job: Thanwa has told these food reviewer people that he can’t afford to do this little side gig for them, and then they call him out of the blue trying to pressure him into a 3 month probation for a 6 month job, and he must accept today because they’re the ones in a bind? HELL THE FUCK NO. DO NOT WORK FOR THOSE PEOPLE.

I’m glad Peak called Sean. He’s knows he’s the reliable one in this group.

I see you, Lukpeach. She is reaping! She invested early and it is paying off!

Thanwa is in his 20s. Now is the time for him to take these kinds of risks. I hope this works out for him, but keep your eyes open,

Latte has excellent taste in men. I love how every person we’ve seen Latte reconnect with, they all seem to have enjoyed their time with him and are happy to see him again.

Max, if I see you on the streets it’s on sight.

Goddamn, he’s trying to film Thanwa, too. I’m sick of this man.

Kick his ass, Jumper!!

That’s right, Sean, make sure you get your licks in, too!

Oh, what a messy final scene! Thanwa is totally fine to feel hurt about being accused here, but I also don’t think that Peak is off-base to think that Thanwa is trying to protect Max. He doesn’t know what has happened between them because neither of them has shared the important things.

This show continues to hold together! I’m so relieved. Curious where they go next, and if Max just disappears or manages to use his wealth to circumvent trouble. Also worried about potential video of Thanwa also becoming public and causing problems for him in this new role he just took.

#Ben watches #knock knock boys #thai bl #bl series

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chlstarrbaby · 1 year

Text

Neighborhood Academy AU Part 2

Part 1 Part 3 (Final)

Trigger warnings: Angst, depressing thoughts, and brief mentions of suicide, unreality.

Another day, another sprint to Homeroom, neck and neck with Eddie carrying Frank over his shoulder like a kidnapped damsel this time, Frank seemed to be getting some last minute studying done.

Oh shoot! Was there a test today? You hoped it wasn’t Marketing, it could get tricky in places when math was actually involved.

“Mornin’ Frank! Mornin’ Eddie!” You greeted politely despite your jagged breaths in keeping up with the absolute powerhouse that was Track Captain, Eddie Dear.

“Morning, (Y/N)!” They replied in unison.

“Congratulations by the way.” Frank mentioned in his usual quite frankly tone.

“For what?” You breathed in confusion. Why the heck was your Homeroom so far from the front of the school anyway? Sure it's a nice way to stay in shape but it's still nerve wracking when you know there’s a high chance that you’ll be late!

“You got Rizzo in that Grease musical, and Wally got Danny so don’t worry, Sally made sure he wasn’t your exact opposite, but it's still oddly fitting.” Frank replied dryly, but well meaning.

“Did Julie get Sandy? I’m gonna feel really bad when I get into character with her.” You asked, explaining your hesitation.

“Yep, she sure did!” Eddie piped up cheerfully. “Seemed pretty excited about it to me!”

“Well, so long as she’s okay with it, that’s all I can hope for.” You mused loud enough for both of them.

Then you suddenly tripped as you simultaneously remembered why Wally would be happy with the roles anyway. That oddly specific old flame tension between Rizzo and Danny was palpable when played right. He would probably look forward to it. But then you really thought about it and…No, he’d look really forward to it if you got Cha-cha instead.

Despite tripping, you stumble instead, quickly regaining enough balance to continue on running. Somehow you saw two different scenarios for an aftermath that didn’t just happen.

One where you definitely fell, hard enough for the skin to come off your knees but not enough to bleed, didn’t hurt any less, but Eddie, bless him and Frank’s awesome friendship with you, didn’t leave you behind as the potential mailman scooped you up and carried you over his other shoulder to Homeroom. You thanked them graciously despite the pain and assured them that you were fine otherwise. You had a small first aid kit in your bag for such emergencies anyway, especially since the school was so darn big that it was a wonder that there weren’t more nurses offices in it.

The other scenario that popped in your head really made you wonder…Wally popped out of nowhere and caught you from your initial fall, slinging you over his shoulder to mimic Eddie with his significant other, and the irony was certainly not lost on you as you protested with kicking and screaming before giving up since you really needed to catch your breath anyway.

Both of those scenarios felt vividly real, visceral even. But neither happened, Wally was nowhere to be seen until you got closer to Homeroom where he was surrounded by fangirls and fanboys again. Still couldn’t actually see him technically but that crowd wouldn’t be there for anyone else, not even you thankfully. Though it was another piece of kindling to your ongoing argument with Wally about how there was no way you were as pretty as he claims you are.

Regardless, the fans crowding around the door to Homeroom was always such a nuisance. You only had one plan to get them out of the way, and honestly it wasn’t a very good one.

“HOMEROOM’S STARTING! NOW SCATTER!” You screeched over the crowd and it worked…slightly against you as now you were swimming upstream against the bunches of students who had to run back the way you came to get to their respective Homerooms.

Eddie barreled through them just fine, but you had to make yourself smaller and brace yourself so as not to get trampled. It got to the point that you ended up standing still and wasted precious time getting to Homeroom, but there were too many students, you couldn’t move…

Until someone grabbed your wrist and led you through the door. When did you close your eyes? You opened them to find that Wally was the one to drag you through the threshold and safety of Homeroom.

His gaze was intense again, but this time you were looking directly at it and it felt ten times worse than having it directed at the back of your head. He was livid.

But so weren’t you at him for a multitude of reasons, most of which haven’t even happened yet, (and some you weren’t entirely sure if they had happened at some point or not). So you stood your ground while you waited for him to say something.

“What were you thinking, neighbor? You could have been trampled.” Wally’s monotone betrayed what he was really feeling, since he sounded oddly calm.

“I was gonna be late, and so weren’t they, risky as it was, there was a benefit for everyone. Besides, raining on your pretty boy parade is still fun.” You tell him snarkily, mostly gaining confidence on that last sentence.

His stare softened ever so slightly, knowing him it was most likely from the backhanded compliment.

“You still think I’m pretty after all this time?” Wally asked curiously, clearly flattered as his smirk grew again.

“I may be shorter than you but I’m not blind…You’re still way prettier than me anyway.” That last sentence was said bitterly, as once again you couldn’t help but make it sting for him a little, though that tended to backfire as the pinprick of tears made their traitorous little ways to the edges of your eyes again, trying to avoid him seeing it by walking past him and over to your seat.

Unfortunately for you he was as observant as ever, and grabbed your wrist as you passed. You didn’t give him the satisfaction of turning your head to look at him. Some deep internal instinct screamed at you to never look into his eyes for too long, as he could hypnotize you at any time.You don’t know where that came from, but after that weird vision of two scenarios after you stumbled, something wasn’t adding up about this year. Lots of little things that you barely noticed until now, but you knew it wasn’t safe to even dwell on them, so you refocused your mind on how you never saw yourself as ever being pretty, as physically showcased by the fact that you decided to wear shorts today, keeping the suspenders since they were nice and classy.

“How can I get it through your head that you really are beautiful, (Y/N)?” Wally asked with a hint of desperation in his voice, silently apologizing for making you cry again but not being able to voice it properly.

You couldn’t help but chuckle darkly as one of those alternate visions gave you a sneaky idea that he didn’t have to go through with… but it would be funny if he did.

“You could carry me to Homeroom like what Eddie does for Frank, but that’s not very neighborly of me to ask and it would really rain on the timing of your pretty boy parade. Otherwise, there just isn’t a way for you to get it through my head since it’s my demon to bear.” You only turned your head a little bit to him so he could hear you, but you still didn’t face him. At the last sentence you snap your wrist out of his hand and head to your seat.

Class was starting, and Wally was out of time to reply to anything you just said.

Mentally you were cursing yourself for one particular wording choice that you had no idea where that even came from. ‘Not very neighborly of you’…You supposed it was another reference to his cutesy nickname for you since his desk was next to yours…but it felt deeper than that when you said it. As if you were spitting the words in his face without actually spitting, or putting enough venom into it. Too dangerous to do that. You couldn’t put your finger on why that was though…probably for the best.

He was staring at you the entire day of classes. Not that you looked at him directly even once, but it was hard to ignore completely when he’s in your peripheral vision.

You ate lunch on the school roof today, alone you thought. However Barnaby came up to join you. Not surprising, even after a few months you could tell that Wally and Barnaby were absolutely best friends, but in that super comfortable with each other kind of way where they were definitely just friends and not something more like Eddie and Frank. The best analogy you could think of was Mickey Mouse and Goofy.

Regardless, Barnaby was sweet enough to ask to join you first, and though you already had the sneaking suspicion he was here on Wally’s behalf, you did also leave your other friends high and dry too, so he was here for all their sakes too. You couldn’t deny him for checking on you. He even let you lean on him.

“Ya wanna talk about it?” He asked, not beating around the bush, which you inwardly appreciated.

“Depends…what is it exactly that I should talk about?” You ask back, not willing to give in just yet.

“Anything and everything really. Ya look like ya wanna vent but it can only be with specific people, otherwise ya might explode.” Barnaby offered lazily.

“You sure you wanna hear it even if a good chunk of it is about a certain pompadour wearing cactus?” Grateful as you are at being allowed to vent, you couldn’t help but warn him anyway.

“Cactus?” Barnaby questioned in confusion.

“It’s a play on words in this case. Wally’s smile is cat-like, and what are cacti? They’re prickly.” You explain a little, not going further than that and hoping he would get the other half of the joke.

“Oh, so you’re also calling him…?” Barnaby trailed off on purpose.

“Yep.” You answer simply. “Sorry if it seems a bit harsh to call him that, but that’s why I picked a cactus specifically to make it sound more polite.” Surprisingly Barnaby guffawed.

“No, you’re good, it’s really clever!” He chuckled a bit more before getting back on topic. “But anyway, I’m all ears even if it is about him in a negative way, and I cross my heart none of it will go to him.”

“Thanks Barnaby.” You tell him gratefully.

So you rant, leaving out the weird visions from this morning or any other time from little things where you saw an alternate scenario as if it were a highly invasive memory. Even now you saw a version of yourself… jumping off the roof just to get away from…your pompadour wearing cactus. You vehemently ignored it. It wasn’t your reality after all so it wasn’t really your problem. Not now, not yet, and hopefully not ever.

In any case you explain to Barnaby that Wally’s just been insufferable lately even though it's really because of your deeply ingrained insecurity of how you don’t see yourself as pretty even though you have enough sense to know when certain clothes look good on you anyway. You chalk it up to not being complimented very often throughout your life, and Wally’s attempts, especially the elaborate ones (that he had to knock off after a certain point once it got to the principal's ears) just seemed like elaborate but harmless cat-calling.

Barnaby chuckled at the second cat related pun directed at Wally.

“I can assure you he’s not.” He assured you genuinely.

“Thanks, but that brings me to my other fear…but first I have to ask if he really wasn’t into Julie before I came along?” You asked, hesitating because the bigger question was going to sound bad no matter how you worded it.

“Pretty sure he never was, I can see why it would be hard to tell though. We all live in the same area and we all love him dearly as if we were all just family. And sure, he may be highly praised for his good looks by all the fans of the school, but out of every single one of them even after a year, he picked you.” Barnaby explained slowly and succinctly to get his point across. You were all Sophomores so his vague description of the timing made sense.

Doubt bubbled up and through your vocal chords however.

“It could literally have been anyone. I just happened to be a transfer student. A transfer student that ended up in an assigned seat near the rest of our friends.”

Barnaby hesitated, if only because he wasn’t there just yet on that first day of school when you and Wally first encountered each other, he had to hear that from the others.

“Never mind that I know I ticked him off that first day of school twice, and one of those times was when Julie dragged me out of Homeroom to show me where Sally was holding the auditions.” You continued as an afterthought to paint a clearer picture for him. “I’m still surprised he even remotely likes me after that first day, like, I accidentally stopped everyone from fawning over him dead in their tracks at my mere presence, I felt him boring holes into the back of my head after that….I dunno Barns…If he’s really serious about me, I just don’t want to be a tally on a scorecard, ya know? That’s what I’m really afraid of.” You finally admitted to him and to yourself.

Of course that was the base of it anyway, if you were going to be in a relationship, you’d rather it be a lasting one. But you would have to put some effort into it too. As it was, your heart just wasn’t interested in a relationship right now, and if he went as far as to ask for your hand in marriage after graduating and you said yes…it would only be for the tax benefits, and that’s not being honest to him or yourself. That’s no good.

Suddenly you looked up and saw another variation of yourself getting ready to jump off a different part of the roof, definitely a different variation because this one was wearing pants, but you could still tell it was supposed to be you because that was what the back of your head looked like.

Even more suddenly, Wally burst out of the doors to the roof desperately calling out your name…and heading for that alternate version of you.

You only knew Wally wasn’t part of that same vision (this time) because Barnaby reacted to him, and the vibration of the doors opening was so harsh you could easily feel it against your back.

Wally’s desperate screams of your name chilled you to the bone. Of course you got up quickly and screamed his name in turn to get him to stop, to turn around and realize that he was chasing a vision that was only an illusion.

Barnaby followed in calling his name too and running after Wally, but you were faster. Running to Homeroom every morning paid off for something after all. Regardless you had to tackle Wally to get him to stop, he didn’t fall from it, he is taller than you and apparently had enough upper body strength to brush off even physically acknowledging you, so you had to sidestep around him to his front and grab his face, and for safety measures turn him around with his face in your hands so he wouldn’t look at that alternate version of you anymore.

“Barnaby, please stay up close behind me, he’s seeing things that are and aren’t there, we need to limit his view!” You pleaded to the big blue dog behind you.

Directing your attention back to Wally who was still screaming your name and somehow not comprehending you were right in front of him, pleading for you to stay, you had no choice but to do something extremely risky. You reached an arm to cover his eyes.

“Wally? I’m right here, pretty boy! I’m not going anywhere!” You announce loudly but calmly, hoping your voice breaks through his panicking fog with your nickname for him alone.

“(Y/N)?” He whimpered. Oh thank whatever higher being there was out there, he was regaining his senses.

“That’s my name, don’t you dare wear it out. I’m gonna move my arm now okay?” You reply lightheartedly, making sure to warn him of your movements.

“Okay.” Wally said nervously. So you remove your arm and return its position by cupping his other cheek.

His eyes were wide, and his pupils were shaking, not a good sign but you could still work him through this. You walked him through some breathing exercises to help calm him down from his panic attack, and when he finally calmed down enough (that his pupils weren’t going ballistic) he asked if he could hug you.

Of course you allowed it, as you wrapped your arms around his middle to give him more security. Barnaby hugged you both from behind you for extra security. Wally pleads for you to not leave him, he sounded so pitiful, but you couldn’t promise anything.

Surprisingly, over Wally’s shoulder, you could still see that alternate version of you standing on the edge, wanting to jump.

“Hey, (Y/N).” You call out to them. With…great effort, they turn to you, and their face is flickering through different people’s faces, and you realize that they are merely a representative of you, a possibility of you as it were. “I wish you happiness.”

The collective of flickering faces actually smile, and they bow to you before dissipating in the wind.

“I wish all of you happiness, wherever you can find it.” You say to the wind in hopes that it’ll carry to any other alternative versions of you that couldn’t handle the burden of the bigger school that is Life.

Everyone on the planet is here for a reason, unfortunately it takes too long to even figure out that reason most of the time. It might even be to just exist for the sake of existing to help raise the planet’s vibration.

Ultimately, the meaning of Life is 42, as in, whatever you want it to be. The choice is yours through good times and bad. May you find your happiness soon, dear neighbor.

“C’mon, Wally, Lunch is just about over, let’s go ask Ms. Poppy if we can bake apple pies today.” You suggest lightly, slowly easing yourself out of Wally’s embrace at least.

“Ha ha ha. Okay, neighbor. But I still don’t see how there are apples in them.” Wally replies with his usual monotonous chuckle. You and Barnaby join him in that as the three of you pack up your belongings and head back downstairs to deal with the remainder of the school day.

@starleska

@jenjenweeeee

@mikomitheclown53

@bunny-masks-blog

@imoreosdude

@heyitsmeyourdryskin

#Welcome Home ARG #Wally Darling #Wally Darling & Reader #Wally Darling x reader #Frank Frankly #Eddie Dear #Julie Joyful #Sally Starlet #Howdy Pillar #Poppy Partridge #Barnaby B. Beagle #Unreality #TW: suicide mention #Angst #tw: depressive thoughts

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creatingblackcharacters · 21 days

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(Amalia ask continuation)

She also adores nature and her kingdom's people, which gives us the inkling that, even if she's definitely inmature now, has the potential to bloom into a great ruler for the kingdom. (Sorry for the plant pun) Whenever plantlife or her subjects are in danger, we are clearly shown that she cares a whole lot, smug princess façade aside. One of my favourite moments is in the show's second episode, where it is her who manages to effectively stop the episode's antagonist via… Understanding him. I struggle to explain it but seeing a heartfelt conversation between a "monstruous" giant tree and a small girl who despite all odds, despite not having explored the outside YET, manages to be brave and understanding despite her fears. That was the moment I decided to keep on watching the series, thanks to Amalia. (Which I'm very happy about because if you couldn't tell Wakfu is one of my favourite shows.) I'd say that, to me, her writing gets mostly underwhelming and kind of iffy in the later seasons, (especially season 3 but that one was a big mess for everyone in general..) for a lot of reasons that'd make this ask eternal, but even then there's still sparks of good writing, in which we see Amalia is growing up, becoming more mature and serious but still being her cheery, pleasant and funny self that is still looking how to make her way into the world. Season 4 mostly dials down the flaws in her portrayal, consistently showcasing adult Amalia's awesome qualities as she balances her personal life and the whole proper ruler thing without losing who she is. (But again that's spoilers!)

Sorry this got so long, tdlr, I feel Amalia is very cool! Even if we are pretty different, she and her story get presented so earnestly that it's not difficult to find points to relate with or even admire. The fact we see her growing up as a person makes me emotional. She means a lot to me.

To end, I want to say that Wakfu and its bigger universe, the Krosmoz, is super dense, and definitely isn't for everybody. (Also heads up, the latter seasons, Wakfu novel jump up from kid media to aimed towards a mature audience. I definitely encourage looking up trigger warnings and stuff). Amalia is a character that has pretty divided fan opinions, but love her or hate her she sticks with you. I hope you like her, too! Feel free to trim this ask if needed, again I apologise it's so long 😅

Pt 2

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soaringwide · 5 months

Note

Hi, I'm resending my ask (sorry 😅)

I would like a reading about what my love life will be like this month, please

Thanks in advance 😊

Hello,

Thank you for resending the ask! You're 3 out of 5 and here is your month ahead love reading, aka Wind Rose. So yeah since May is already started this is meant for the next 30 days roughly.

So let's start with your current state, coming into these next 30 days.

I definitely think you are currently feeling quite powerless and lacking control over the trajectory of your love life. It feels like things are not happening the way you want them to despite what you feel are your best efforts, and you're running out of patience. You feel lost, confused and don't know what could be done and it's triggering a lot of pessimistic thoughts, where you keep thinking about the worst outcome possible instead of being hopeful about the future. You may also be experiencing very low self-esteem as a result.

I think you may have been hopeful about a recent situation that seemed like it had potential, even if it was just in your head, but your illusions got shattered, and left you with a sour taste in your mouth. You feel like you failed here and its making you quite distraught.

For the theme of the month ahead, regarding your love life.

I think you will get a surge of desire to not let yourself go to constant sorrow, but instead, putting yourself back together and pick up the fight again. It's like you're done mourning, done being immobilized, and you want to put yourself out there once again.

However, the cards points at some internal work you have to do before you can achieve what you desire. You will need to shift this very pessimistic mindset you're currently in, as it is neither an enjoyable place to be, nor particularly efficient to achieve your goal. There is a call to reconnect back with your child-like sweet wonder, to remember that things can be good and easy. There is a need to find your hopeful innocence again, to remember that things will not stay as they are forever but that things can indeed change for the better. There is potential for growth ahead but you need to put the accent on that first.

Let's also note that the bottom of the deck was Death, so there's definitely an underlying energy of deep internal change, which for your love life indicates a complete renewal of energies and moving towards a clean slate before you can embrace what comes next.

For the goal you'll have in mind, I see you very motivated to initiate communications with either someone or different people, in order to plant the seeds of new relationships or rekindling an old one, hoping that something will flourish. You want to be clear about what you want and are done waiting around. It seems you're quite eager to make things happen in reality but as we saw, there is some internal work to be done so your goal/vision is not quite aligned with that.

So it makes sense that the challenge you will face is represented by the Tower, which is a way to push you to completely change your ways as you will be forced to reevaluate the way you approach your love life. There will be a need to embrace this big wake-up call that forces you to realize that you are limiting yourself in your mind, keeping you trapped, which is your own doing, and to some extent you are resisting the change.

This is further shown by the ''surprise coming your way'' position. Here, with the Wheel of Fortune and the Queen of Pentacles, there will be a surprising event that pushes you to stop whatever you are doing and refocus on self-care. You will need to nurture yourself like a loving parent and find joy and stability in and for yourself. I really think the challenges you will face and this surprise event are connected. Whatever it will be, it will be for the better because it will allow you to take your blinds off and refocus on yourself. It will be a necessary shift that will ultimately make you happier and more grounded and ready for the next chapter of your life.

For what will be gained in your love life in the next 30 days, I unfortunately don't think your situation will have changed much, as in, I don't foresee a new beginning in the realm of love and feelings. Which makes sense since the reading up until now is pointing at self care and introspection first. There is also the possibility of a ''false start'' here, as in, there might have been someone that made you feel like it had potential but it will not unfold as you hoped and you will be back to square one.

Finally, let's look at some advice from the cards on how to navigate that. Just to clarify, for this I always welcome messages from a higher perspective, which I leave open for whatever these higher realms are for you.

You are being encouraged to love yourself through this difficult time. Yes, things may not be going the way you want them to, but you're still an amazing person with a beautiful heart, that is begging you to be seen by you. You need to see yourself from a higher perspective and realize that you've been judging yourself too harshly, and that in what you perceive as flaws and weaknesses, there is so much beauty and power. What you disregard makes you unique and it's time to see how wonderful you are. Stop underestimating yourself and letting your perceived "failures" dictate your self-worth. Everyone walks a unique path full of detours and surprises that are meant to teach you things about yourself and the world. There is so much out there for you.

To quote the type on the cards: "What if your strangeness was actually your brilliance?" and "I'm not underestimating my own magic anymore", which showed up together and I think they are beautiful messages you can meditate on. There is definitely a lot of loving support being sent your way, so remember that from a higher perspective, we are never as lonely as we think we are.

This is a time of growth for you, and while uncomfortable at times, it will be for the best!

#ask #tarot reading #free tarot reading #soaringwide #soaringwide tarot reading #tarot #tarotblr #tarot community #divination #tarot reader

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decks-writing-blog · 4 months

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The Borealis: Chapter One: How Do You Know That?

Summary: Gordon and Alyx go to the arctic to find the Borealis.

[A/N] First a disclaimer: I haven't beat Half-Life Alyx yet. I started it the same day I started writing this fic but then I got Covid and injured my side coughing. Thus there was a solid 3 week span in which I couldn't play it because I was too physically unwell to do so, thus I finished this fic without having finished the game. I know how it ends though (I accidentally got spoiled before I even started playing) but because I don't know the context surrounding that, I chose to go about achieving the same thing in a different way. Especially since said different way allows for a good opening to this fic and lets me treat the other 2 Gordon focused HL fics I've written to be canon to this fic (you don't have to read those to understand this one though). So basically, if this fic contradicts something in Alyx, that's why. I'm able to play again though (thankfully, I've been itching to continue because I love the game) so I might be able to catch some of that in editing but we'll see because I play VR games quite slowly.

Second: Half-Life 3 confirmed! Yeah, yeah, old joke, but it's relevant to me now so I'm making it again. Basically I was super frustrated that we're never going to get a canon conclusion to the Half-Life story (the Epistle 3 doesn't count, it directly contradicts what is now canon thanks to Alyx and would've changed drastically during the development of the game, so it doesn't satisfy me at all) so I thought it might be fun try to write a conclusion to the story myself. I didn't write it as a 'video game story' because it's not a video game, thus it's not really me trying to write Half-Life 3. Just me taking where Ep 2 left off and continuing the story, focusing more on the characters and their relationship because character focused writing is my strength and what I enjoy writing the most. That being said, this fic did actually push my writing skills a bit, I feel like I've improved because of it.

Also Content Warning for the fic as a whole but it also opens with Temporary Major Character Death. (Which is why the Keep Reading cut is right under this author's note.) Time resets and Gordon comes back when he dies, he Kills Himself a few times to accomplish this. Also, another far less severe warning but potentially still important: OCs pop up throughout the fic as the plot demands so if you're hard against OCs in fanworks, maybe this fic ain't for you.

Alyx sobbed over Eli’s body, pressing on his chest rhythmically… or attempting to be rhythmic, she was too frantic, sobbing too hard. Not that that mattered; the blood pooling on the ground, leaking from the hole in the back of Eli’s head made it clear just how futile that effort at resuscitation was regardless of how good it was. One couldn’t be expected to think rationally after watching a loved one die.

Shaking off the last of the dizziness, Gordon sat up. He fumbled along the ground until he found where his pistol, usually magnetized to the HEV suit’s leg, had fallen to. Lifting it, he pressed it to his forehead. Killing himself was in ways worse than someone or something else killing him but that didn’t make it any less necessary. If he had this power, he was obligated to use it for good.

Closing his eyes, he focused. Right after the rocket launch, before they stepped outside would be a good spot to return to. He pulled the trigger.

As always, he blessedly didn’t hear the gunshot or feel the bullet enter his brain; it was too fast for human senses to register, making it in other ways the best way to reset time. Instead, one second Alyx was sobbing desperately, the next everyone was congratulating themselves and each other on the successful launch of the rocket. Again to Gordon but to them it would be the first time; he was the only one who ever remembered.

Opening his eyes, he stood in front of the rocket’s command console. Through the window the trail of the rocket was still visible, the portal already dissipating. A victory for sure, one he wasn’t going to let be ruined by Eli’s or anyone else’s death.

He knocked on the desk with the metal part of the HEV suit’s glove, getting everyone’s eyes on him. Not something he did often, it was easier to let people talk even if he’d heard it before – it often gave him time to rest, even if it was only for a little while and not a proper sit down or nap – but given where the Advisors had come from it might be possible to get the jump on them instead of the other way around.

“Two Advisors are coming,” he signed. “Or are already here, waiting on the hanger roof.”

The smiles on everyone’s face dimmed. “How would you know that?” Eli, blessedly alive and well again, asked. “Not that I doubt you but… I suppose I perhaps shouldn’t ask.”

Gordon had considered telling them about his dying and resetting thing several times now but… there was no need to burden anyone else with his suffering or the news that he’d watched them die. And so it was indeed best not to ask how he knew because he wasn’t going to answer.

“I don’t see how they could possibly be here and us not know about it,” Mangusson said. “But fine, I’ll send someone to go look.”

“Send Dog.” If he could get the jump on one or both of the Advisors again, their chances were better. “I’ll go too. You,” Gordon indicated Eli, “stay with here with him.” He pointed to Kleiner.

Before Eli could try to protest or agree to the order, Alyx cut in. “You should listen to him, Dad. He knows things sometimes. It saved our lives on the way here more than once.”

“I’m inclined to agree,” Dr. Kleiner said, stepping up next to Eli. “Gordon did just kill a whole armada of striders after all. So if he says there’s danger and you should hang back, it’s probably wise to listen.”

Whether Eli even wanted to try to voice a protest or not, Gordon was already headed through the door. Alyx wasn’t far behind. As she paused to whistle for Dog, Gordon continued forward to the hanger. Upon stepping into it, it looked just as innocuous as it had before. No mental pulse, bringing a headache and distorted vision. Perhaps the Advisors were getting better at reigning that in. Unfortunate in that it meant it wouldn’t be as easy as Gordon had been thinking to know when one was nearby.

Continuing forward, he kept his eyes glued on the window the Advisors had seemingly come through. Not bothering with the elevator, he vaulted over the railing, landing with a clank on the hanger floor. He approached the helicopter.

Nothing… nothing… A loud clatter came from the roof. A moment later one of the windows shattered as Dog, clutching one of the Advisors came spiraling through it. Dog’s spare claw ripped at what looked like its face, pulling bits off, thick oil like blood oozing out.

“Holy shit.” Alyx’s voice came the right, seemingly by the entrance. “Gordon, you were right. Get him Dog! Fuck him up!”

Gordon pulled out and unpacked the rocket launcher. The second one had to be… Ah, there it was, floating through the broken window, perhaps giving chase. He loaded a rocket, aimed, and fired. With how close it was, there was no way it didn’t hit. … Except, moments before contact, the rocket veered, curving off to just barely miss instead. Damn it. Fighting these things wasn’t going to be easy, huh?

The Advisor’s trajectory changed, coming quickly towards him instead. Pain pulsed in his head, his vision blurring. The rocket launcher landed at his feet with a clatter as a now familiar force pushed on his body. It locked his limbs to his sides as it forced him up against the wall once more. Struggling was futile but he did it anyway, thrashing as much as the telekinetic force holding him would let him. Which wasn’t much.

Somewhere Alyx shouted something and a gun went off. The Advisor made a pained sound as just for a moment, the force holding Gordon vanished. It came again before he could even finish falling, pressing into his chest and making it hard to breath.

He slid along the wall, his HEV suit scraping loudly against it as the Advisor moved toward the entrance and thus presumably Alyx. A moment later she was crying out again as she was pushed up next to him. And then they were moving again, the Advisor holding them against the wall as it moved towards where Dog was seemingly finishing off its companion.

Said counterpart Gordon couldn’t see particularly well from this angle but it was on the floor, partially deflated, its blood pooling around it as it twitched and shuddered. Atop it, Dog, seemed to deem he’d done enough before turning and… too late, the second Advisor was in range. Dog’s attempted leap towards it ended abruptly, leaving him hovering in the air, held so tight, he couldn’t move.

His form shuddered and shook for a second before with a ear piercing screech of tearing metal, his body tore apart and crumpled. The light in his eye dimmed and went out before he was dropped to land in a crumpled heap of metal and still sparking wires. No sign of movement.

“Dog!” Alyx screamed, struggling just as uselessly as when she’d tried to save Eli.

With a sigh, Gordon gave up, going limp as the Advisor’s supernatural grip would let him. He’d messed up again. For how much everyone revered him, he did that a lot. If anyone knew even the half of it, they likely wouldn’t look up to him so much. Hopefully his death this time would be fast.

The Advisor turned its attention back onto the two of them. It pulled Gordon towards itself. Good; watching Alyx die was always hard.

“Don’t you dare! Leave him alone!”

If the Advisor was even capable of understanding human speech, it showed no sign of it as its tentacle slipped out of it head towards Gordon. He would’ve told Alyx to look away but well… he couldn’t. Perhaps closing his eyes would be wise but he couldn’t quite bring himself to do that either.

It turned him, eliminating the temptation to look anyway by making it impossible to as it nosed at the back of his neck. Wet and slimy, he shuddered a moment before something sharp and needle like extended out of it, forcing its way through skin and bone. His whole body jerked with it, spasming in the Advisor’s telekinetic grip. Only for a moment as as all sensation vanished, leaving him utterly numb. A pressure built in his head, almost like it was about to…

Blinking open his eyes, he was back in the rocket control room. He flexed his hands, working the shakes out of them as he took deep breaths to steady himself as best he could. Curling up in a ball and crying about it never helped anyone. If anything, with how respected he now was, it’d make it worse. Also, he just plain didn’t have time to freak out about dying for the umpteenth time even if it was a new an awful way to do so. He had to stop thinking about it.

He’d failed again but he had learned something. The Advisors could be defeated and their telekinesis had a range, a seemingly fairly short one. So he just had to get the jump on both of them and stay out of their range otherwise. Easier said than done but it was far from the first time he’d had to do something seemingly impossible. With infinite tries anything was possible. … Hopefully he wouldn’t need infinite though. Dying sucked.

Once he had himself as in control as he could make himself, he knocked the back of the desk again, once more interrupting the chatter around him. “Two Advisors on the hanger roof,” he signed. “I need Dog to help take them out. You and you,” he indicated Eli and Kleiner, “stay here.” He turned and headed for the exit.

“Wait. How do you know that?” It was Magnusson who asked this time.

Gordon didn’t bother to respond.

“We should listen to him,” Alyx said as he paused at the door, holding it for her. “He knows things sometimes. It saved our lives on the way here more than once. So we’ll handle whatever it is, don’t worry about it.”

“I’m inclined to…” Kleiner began, the rest of his sentence being cut off as the door closed behind Alyx.

She whistled for Dog as they came to a stop a short distance away. He came bounding over from wherever he’d been waiting for her. “They’re on the hanger roof, you said?”

“Yes. I want Dog to throw me at one of them while he jumps the other.”

“Uh… that sounds dangerous. Are you sure?”

“Yes.” Dog had proven twice now that the Advisors couldn’t use their telekinesis when too distracted. Gordon just had to do the same thing Dog did and they could kill both… theoretically.

Alyx frowned. “How do you know that? I mean… you were right about other times the Combine jumped us, yeah, but this is awfully specific. Not that I don’t trust you but… you know.”

If Gordon were to ever tell anyone, it’d be her. Her knowing would be helpful in some instances but… as long as she continued to trust him and would do as he asked without an explanation, he wouldn’t burden her. Dying over and over to prevent the true death of others was his trial to endure, not talking about it made it easier to bear. So… “Trust me.”

“Okay.” She sighed and turned to Dog. “Dog, there are two Advisors on the hanger roof. Gordon wants you to throw him at one of them while you jump the other one. Can you do that?”

Dog shuffled as he nodded, seemingly eager for action. Hopefully when all this was done Gordon would get a chance to finally chat with Eli about Dog’s construction and how sentient he was. Such peace seemed impossible to reach but… hopefully one day it wouldn’t.

Reaching back Gordon unhooked the crossbow from his back and unfolded it before handing it to Alyx. “Stay back. Shoot from a distance.” He handed her a bundle of bolts next.

“Got it. Good luck.”

“You too.” He turned and climbed onto Dog’s back. He locked the fingers of one hand in place just in time to not fall off as Dog took bounding off towards the hanger.

Another death and then another and another. It was not the most painful of deaths to have his brain sucked out but the violation brought its own horror, making it among the more unpleasant ways to die.

The next attempt ended with both Advisors dead but Dog was busted and broken beyond repair too. A robot, yes but… how sentient was this robot? Enough to be worth saving? Seemingly so. But more importantly, Alyx was fond of him, reason enough to save him but also, said fondness had rubbed of onto Gordon and thus he lifted his pistol and shot himself to try again.

It was three more attempts before finally, finally the Advisors were both dead without bringing anyone else with them. As with many battles, victory had largely come down to luck.

Panting for breath, Gordon shot the deflating body of the Advisor beneath his feet a few more times, emptying the rest of his loaded shotgun shells into it. Its blood was thick and in the context of being in a hanger looked not unlike motor oil if not for its source.

Reloading the shotgun, he strolled over to the other side of the helicopter. Dog was atop the other Advisor’s body. It was pounded flat already, clearly dead, but just because he was mad, Gordon emptied a few shells into what looked like where its face had once been anyway. These things sucked, pun intended.

“Holy shit, Gordon, that was awesome.” Alyx said as she ran up, still holding the crossbow.

Gordon took a hand off the shotgun to give her a quick, “Thanks.” Not for the compliment though, it hadn’t felt awesome in the least, but because this attempt wasn’t a flop solely due to her getting into position just in time to to hit the Advisor and break its telekinesis before Gordon could be forced to drop his gun again. Having a companion was endlessly a thing to be grateful for. He would move the world for her if she wanted him to.

Her having no idea the depths of what she did for him though, he didn’t express that sentiment as he instead started back for the hanger exit. He had to double check and make sure everyone was alive and thus he was free to continue.

Cleaning up the Advisors’ bodies took some time as did sending teams to patrol the whole of the White Forest base, making sure no more unwanted surprises had made their way in somehow. But once done with that, there was a rush to start getting the helicopter ready for Gordon and Alyx to leave as soon as possible before something else went wrong that might jeopardize their mission.

No time to waste with proper rest, there never was. It was always one thing after another, endlessly. They had a whole alien army to fight, a world to save. And it had to be Gordon because in everyone else’s eyes he could consistently do and survive the impossible without much issue. But even if everyone knew the truth, he was still the best one for the job based solely off the fact that with infinite retries he could ensure the outcome he wanted even if he had to suffer for it.

But if Eli, Kleiner or anyone else Gordon cared for died while he was away, he couldn’t undo it, not as easily anyway. Something that had always been the case but after watching Eli die, it now seemed more of a prevalent threat than ever before. Making the prospect of leaving difficult. But alas, this power of his gave him the best shot at reaching the Borealis and then hopefully using it to get the Combine off Earth. Or to follow Eli’s warnings and destroy it before someone else, such as the Combine, could use it. He would decide when he got there. Regardless, he had no real choice but to roll with it and let Eli bundle him and Alyx with enough supplies and equipment to hopefully get them to the Borealis.

“No Dog, I’m sorry, you can’t come,” Alyx said as they stood by, waiting for the helicopter to finish being loaded for their journey. “You have to stay here and help Dad and the rest of the resistance, okay? They need your help and uh, you’re too heavy. We gotta travel light as we can to stretch our fuel as far as it’ll go.”

Dog shuffled and did the robot equivalent of a whine, the panels on his head pulling back as if wilting. Alyx patted his head. He leaned into it, indicating once more that he was capable of feeling in some capacity, even if it was perhaps only emotional. … Gordon would’ve loved the chance to have worked on him with Eli.

“I’ll take good care of him,” Eli said. “And I’m sure he’ll take good care of us.”

“And you two take care of each other,” Kleiner added. Having had time to finish monitoring the rocket he’d come out to the hanger to see them off. “We’ll be in radio contact with you as much as we can but it’s a long way so I’m not sure how much that’ll be. So mostly you’ll have to watch out for each other.”

“Well we made it this far together, so I’m sure we’ll be fine.” Her optimism was admirable. Even if from her perspective everything had gone well, there was still so much that could go wrong.

“And remember, once you reach the Borealis don’t jump right into activating it. I still think its our best shot at winning this war but that doesn’t mean don’t be cautious about it. Try to figure out what it does first if you can.”

“And if you can’t figure out what it does, consider not messing with it at all.” Eli gave Kleiner a pointed look. The two of them were going to argue about this more once Gordon and Alyx left, huh? Hopefully it wouldn’t cause too many problems between them.

“We’ll figure it out once we get there. But I guess uh… this is goodbye for now. Gosh, I can’t believe I’m the one being sent on this. Not that I don’t wanna go but…” Alyx threw her arms around Eli. “I’ll miss you guys.”

“I’ll miss you too, sweetie.”

Pulling back, Alyx hugged Kleiner next. “Uh… yes,” he said, adjusting his glasses as he pulled back. “Be sure to come back safe as quick as you can. Bring Gordon back too if at all possible.”

“Of course I’ll bring him back. What do you mean if possible?”

“Well I mean, after the Black Mesa incident, when he killed the Nihilanth…” Kleiner trialed off as he glanced at Gordon. “You know.”

Grimacing, Alyx turned to look back at Gordon too. “Oh yeah, huh? Um… I know you guys said I don’t need to know but I think I’ve earned the right to be told why and how he was frozen in time for twenty years, especially since I’m going with him on this and thus might have to try to stop it from happening again.”

Damn! That was possible, wasn’t it? To hide his flinch, Gordon took a step back. Once done here, the man in the suit might put him back into the void until he was needed for another job. One he couldn’t refuse because the alternative was death which he came back from. The vortiguants had seemed to pull him out of the man’s hold but… how sure was that really?

He had to take a series of deep breaths to stave off the sudden need to reach for something to steady himself; there was nothing around to grab. That was something best not thought about. He could only hope for mercy at the end of this. Surely he’d earned it, right? The suited man might not care though because why would he? Gordon was just a tool to help accomplish whatever his mysterious goals were. If so there was nothing he could about that so he had to stop thinking about it. He had to finish this first, worrying about what would happen after would only make that task harder. No more thinking about that or anything else. Only what was right in front of him mattered.

“A man in a suit, huh?” Alyx was saying as Gordon focused himself back in the present. Damn it, they were still talking about him. “Does he have a… briefcase?”

“You’ve seen him.” Eli grimaced, more angry with this confirmation than shocked as he was when he’d first learned of it.

“Maybe, I don’t know. It feels like I might’ve had a dream about him or something. What does he want?”

“We don’t know,” Kleiner replied. “We have a few theories but we don’t have time to go over them right now. You two have to get going before something else comes up. There’s no time to waste.”

Another round of hugs between them, this time Alyx hugged Dog too. “We’ll talk more about this once this is all over though, got it?” She then turned and started for the helicopter.

Before Gordon could finish turning to follow, Eli stepped towards him. “Take good care of her, please. Keep her safe.”

“I will, I promise.” Gordon wouldn’t dream of doing anything different.

“Thank you.” Eli took another step towards him, opening his arms for a hug.

Gordon couldn’t properly feel it through the HEV suit but… it took all his willpower not to cling to it in desperation. The comforts of physical touch had become foreign to him. And so even as brief as the hug was, it still almost brought tears to his eyes by the time it ended.

“Take care of yourself too.”

Gordon couldn’t promise that, not with how often he had to turn his gun on himself to reset time to save someone. So instead, before he did tear up anyway, he turned away and headed for the helicopter.

From there, it wasn’t long before they were getting ready to take off. Since neither of them knew how to fly a helicopter and thus couldn’t be trusted flying all the way to the arctic, a pilot by the name of Mori joined them. Gordon was offered the passenger seat but declined, choosing the back instead. There was more room to lay down, something he really needed. Surprisingly Alyx joined him, sitting in the row of seats across from. “In case you need to say something to Mori,” she said in way of explanation without even needing to be asked.

“Thanks,” he signed. Her talking for him was probably wise.

“All right,” Mori said from their spot in the cockpit’s driver seat. “Headsets and seat belts on and then we’re off to the arctic fast as we can go.”

Gordon put the headset on – being able to hear them even when the helicopter was running was important after all – but didn’t buckle in. Instead he lay down, using one of their packs of supplies as a pillow. It wasn’t comfortable but that didn’t matter, he hadn’t had more than three or so hours of sleep at a time since the night before the resonance cascade, technically more than twenty years ago. So he was going to sleep as much as he possibly could on this flight.

Next Chapter

#Half life #half life 2 #half life 3 #gordon freeman #alyx vance

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toinfinitywinning · 7 months

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What you see & hear- or even if you can. Just a cover.

Open it? There’s no tellin’ the worm. But you bought the ticket. It’s your Day 1.

They’re gonna try to break you.

Yk every Day I wake up. And I’m scared of it. Don’t want to. And not b/c im warm in my bed snuggling w/ my feather duvet and rain, with the weight of a horse on my legs play pretending he’s a 3 lb Show shhnowzaa but b/c I’ve already, already lived it. And having been in a constant State of fight or flight, normal or abnormal, sometimes u can’t tell —I still feel bad. W/e differentiation you had to separate the two both ended up at the North Pole but you’ve at least got Santa.

So this means I’m confused all Day but I still want some of Michael’s Secret Stuff Gatorade (haterade) from “welcome to the space jam—alright.” 🎵. To get me through. A safe energy drink. And your body doesn’t ☊ anymore so the more you talk to yourself the saner. It’s just I’ve never had to fake I’m physically okay to be present so much. Physical sickness affects ur mind Health and if you already struggle w/ that my condolences b/c your leg hurts too.

It’s a nightmare never 1-upping to a dream of being without. Then some days it’s will hear a song or remember a Good time or just Start crying-faucet not included. No acute-reason onset. (We gotta find another word for trigger no joke). I only subconsciously wonder will today be better…Will I get better? And I don’t know why I continue to continue being somewhere inbtw positive and negative. All the sudden my mind is taxed and so are your paychecks and I’ve been up for 15 minutes not even thinking I was thinking b/c Truth is, when something becomes your reality for such a Long time, everything just runs together. You’re afraid to feel anything yet know if you don’t it’s not just your body ready to atrophy. Not Good. And it’s a sneaky lil’ mf.

I can’t Imagine the omnipresent (best word for constant I got) Pain people feel having been with Illness their whole lives. How differently their world is shaped. Pain, prolonged cynicism, Illness prolonged, disability prolonged, w/e u used to think about things is gone unless you’re born one of these ways. Now to be clear I was born this Way but not THIS Way don’t get it twisted. Some days I wonder what it would be like to swap around. W/e it is—This presence does not belong to God— but maybe its mere existence really does b/c we won’t have anyone to thank if things get better? And there’s no joy in the things we’ve hoped for and overcome? And everything always has an End result of some kind…Right? If that’s my endgame I can only look at some things very matter of fact-ly. But. Here we are. Pending. Loading. Accept All Cookies. Your Health for potential healing is At the mercy of literally a button click away from quality or lifesaving or changing Medicine or therapy. CAN YOU AFFORD TO STAY ALIVE? Be fired? Bankrupt-ed? Evicted? No college, no trade School, but you work ur butt off to provide but you’re still paid $7.25/hr as I was as head intramural supervisor at Georgetown College. 15 years ago. Not just that, exist, like eating, clothes to wear, some sort of roof. So you’re choosing between crappy and crappier. Literally no difference. How in the is someone even going to try to stay healthy?!

Thankfully I don’t have to worry as much about the material, which, its Stress alone induces more trauma and Anxiety, but I’d bet how we feel physically isn’t too different. All the sudden again in the subconscious where I am all the time I’m figuring and not truly present you really think existentially like how in not God’s name clearly did I get here? I fixed everything. But Life isn’t played by a claw that has never won anybody a teddy bear. I wouldn’t pin karma to me in itself but it sure makes you think.

None of this is about to make sense but it’s where my mind took me.

Think about what was happening in your Life before things changed. Before literally waking up one Morning and knowing that very second things had to change or I was headed toward death a lot faster than I thought until that God moment. I don’t have many of them that are that dramatic but nothing was clearer to me in that moment. And then that Damn bat and conspiracy crap of government population control. If anthrax was sprinkled in Amazon boxes we’d be extinct. But Pretty sure we know how to get rid of people without breaking a beaker or test tube and then turning on a fan just gifting particles. And Unraveling ALL of the many ways of healing I’d finally lived into. I was so close. To every Fk up id invited. And so asking why anymore seems vacant. Echoing. And my ears hurt. ATP I’m More so saying well, I’m not sure that strategy is going to work anymore. Where’s the ღ in Health. It’s lost it. How much are you worth? No, like write down a monetary number on a piece of paper, fold it and slide it across the desk. Insurance companies be like: I see your offer and I’ll raise your offer: have you tried dying yet? B/c you could save a lot of money that way. The money it will take to bury you might even be more deadly.

So The most defeating part is beginning the Day as it ends. When I think about that it’s just like how did I get here? I’m still stubborn about it but maybe regardless of w/e someone accomplishes there’s the reality you’re still living in an imperfect world where you can only control so many things. Even if u gain that control back all those traps R still available. So you can Imagine my surprise when there’s not enough OCD to Go around to control THIS. regardless of what we can have control over, do that, b/c the smaller victories become magnified and walking to the kitchen to take your Meds that may or may not be helping is like an 8-ball w/ only 8 options. Eenie meenie miney. Mo.

I don’t set out to cry or tear up in the videos I share. I’ve always been a cryer. I’ve been told I feel things more intensely so it hits different, does different. The direct quote will remain anonymous but the sentimental pack rat in me wrote it down ASAP. Like, a handwritten letter. You took TIME for me. The quote—It was several years ago and I almost can’t stand it b/c it’s me in whatever kind of Shell is available at the time.

[“people perceive me as an individual who has the kindest of all hearts, but who struggles with the realities of life given that kindness…Like how the tenderhearted feel the pains of the earth more intensely.”]

It’s so true. But if I can’t be real what Good’s that gonna do? For me it further affirms what I already am living. In Edgar’s scary A** pit or with the company of not one canary in the coal mine.

C’ya in the AM. 🫡

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 1 month

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Crash and Burn 3

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Character: Tony Stark

Summary: a powerful man comes crashing into your life. Literally.

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging ❤️

Another thankless day of serving cold cuts and cheese to the general public as you ready to tear your hair out. You don’t see how anyone could make such a fuss about a trip to the deli but the locals have a way of exacerbating any simplicity. You’re just happy to be free.

The bus is late. You stand at the curb and bounce on your heels. You just want to lay down. The lack of sleep is starting to split your skull.

You yawn and watch a truck blow by. It’s a sleepy old town, nestled between farmland and stretches of dirty roads. The sort of backwoods you don’t drive through after dark. It’s so dull you could fall asleep on your feet.

A sudden gust of air rips through the sky and the unusual whirlwind circles you. You look up through slitted eyes as dirty speckles across your face. You furrow your brow as lights and flames glow as a red figure lands in front of you.

The electric blue haze goes out and your faced with the suit of crimson and gold. You grip your purse strap and gulp. You haven’t checked your phone yet. You couldn’t have predicted this.

“Shit.” You mutter.

His helmet snaps back and he smirks. The silver streaks in his dark hair puff out and he smooths them down. He puts his hand on his hip and scoffs, “name’s Tony Stark, thanks.”

You cringe and cross your arms. “We met.”

“Yeah, I remember you. Nearly forgot before everything blew up. You know, this thing...” he pauses to take his phone out. “Hasn’t shut up all fucking day. I got lawyers down my throat--”

“Your phone is blowing up? My house blew up.” You sneer.

“Okay, relax. It was a trailer. I said I’d replace it--”

“Then do it.”

“Ooh, spicy. I didn’t guess you to be the type but after seeing your little online storytelling, I shoulda guessed.”

“It’s the truth. That’s it.” You turn to watch for the bus. You’re aware of the few people slowing to stare at the man in his techno-suit.

“I mean, a little gratitude here, honey. I’m more than happy to slap a new box in the lot but you don’t gotta be this way about it.” He derides. You look at him from the corner of your eyes and scowl. “At least a smile. Bet you’re gorgeous when you smile.”

He winks and you flinch. Really?

“Fine. Once we have a new trailer, I’ll delete the post. Sounds pretty fair to me.”

“Now. Take it down now and then we can go shopping for a new train car,” he chirps.

You frown and face him. “It’s just a post.”

“I got a reputation, sweetheart. I’m important that way. I know you might not be able to fathom that but one busted up hellhole is nothing compared to what I do for this planet. Didn’t you see me on the TV, handing out lollipops to hurricane survivors? What are you doing besides whine on the internet?” He stares you down, his expression turning sinister as his grin fades.

“If it’s not a big deal, then it shouldn’t take much, should it?” You challenge.

“Wow, you sure are mouthy, aren’t you?”

“I’m tired.” You peer down the street again. “I worked a full shift and my feet hurt. You wouldn’t know about that, would you? With your penthouse and your dad’s money.”

“I earned my company.” He snarls. “You watch where you’re stepping, sweetheart. I’m being nice. I flew all the way back to this ditch, so let’s not play dirty.”

Your heart races. You don’t know why you’ve said so much. Maybe because you’ve worn a customer service smile all day and you’re all out of fucks to give?

And what do you have left to lose? A family that treats you like a gnat flying around their heads and a musty old futon. Your life wasn’t great before but damn if he didn’t make it a whole lot worse.

“You do whatever. You’re Tony Stark. Iron Man.” Your tone is deflated and monotone. “I can’t do anything about it, can I? Just whine on the internet?”

You step further down the sidewalk and stare at the approaching headlights. The bus is finally there. Even if he really means to replace the dusty old shithole, you don’t need his self-aggrandized kindness. Not if this is how it’s delivered.

You pull out your bus fare as you sway beneath the sign. A sharp noise tweaks your ear and you’re seized in a metal vice. Your arms are trapped against your sides as Tony zooms up into the sky, the air whipping around your face as you holler in horror.

“What-- are—you—doing?” You shriek as you wriggle, kicking into the empty void around you.

“Sweetheart,” his voice rises from behind his helmet. “You’re gonna wanna be still. If I drop you, you’re gonna hit the ground like a bug on a windshield.”

“What the fuck?” You exclaim and squeeze your eyes shut.

“Just givin’ you a lift home. Like a nice guy would do.” He chuckles. “Now don’t breathe too heavy up here. At this altitude... well...”

You put your head down, shielding it against the shoulder plate of his suit, and you bend your arms to cling to him. You have no other choice but to hold on for dear life.

You get his point. Tony Stark is more than money. He can do whatever the hell he wants.

#tony stark #dark tony stark #dark!tony stark #tony stark x reader #series #au #drabble #iron man #crash and burn #mcu #marvel #avengers

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e-s-willswriting · 1 year

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WIP TITLE TAG

Thank you for the tag @palebdot <3

RULES: Post the names of all the files in your WIP folder, regardless of how non-descriptive or ridiculous. Let people send you an ask with the title that most intrigues them, and then post a little snippet or tell them something about it! Then tag as many people as you have WIPs.

My short story WIPS are a little scattered, so I'll mainly note down the long-form WIPS I've made documents of.

The CRYPT Archives

“It was incidental I ended up working with criminals. I’d help everyone, if I could. Because I think there’s one thing that’s truly terrifying.” “And that is?” “Feeling alone. Feeling like nobody gets it, or that nobody is there to help you at your lowest. I want to be there for people going through that.” “So you could be in front of a mass murderer, or anything along those lines, but if they’re going through a crisis of mental health, you would help?” “I’d help them. They’re people too."

Crypt is my main project (Contemporary Urban-Fantasy/Horror) about a therapist working with monsters.

Idol Project: (Comedy choice-based visual novel) about a girl who joins an Idol group made up of everything but idols.

Mae: And it’s luck of the draw out there. But I’m sure something will come through for you. I mean, you’ve got naturally pink hair! Mirai: It’s a birth defect.

The Degenerate: (Contemporary Horror/Thriller) Nothing written on the document, though I have the idea for the title and generally what I'd want to do with this one. Though it's major trigger warnings and will take a lot of care to write well. Triggering themes include: Porn addiction, sexual content, murder, misogyny.

Loving Arcadia: Again, nothing written, though I have ideas. (Romance/Drama/Contemporary) Set in the UK, a group of students start making a band. The head of their band is a trans man, but his mother is a leading online figure in the Gender Critical sphere. Yeah, again, touchy areas I have to write with a lot of care.

Lighthouse

This letter shook me. For a moment I had believed the blood to have been my own, since my clothes were stained after the scrapes I took scrambling to the lighthouse. But if this letter were true, if the blood was not my own, I had before me the words of an insane, dying man. A man who had committed suicide. ‘I would never do something like that! God forbid.’ My first thoughts other than survival. A clue to who I was. I am Cecil Best, and I would not resort to suicide. God wouldn’t forgive that. And another- I am a religious man. To write God Bless or God Forbid- those phrases inspire a tightness in my chest. The very name inspires deep feelings within me. God guides me in the right direction. Those are the only two things I know.

(Gothic Horror) Set in the 1800's, a man wakes up on a tiny, rocky island in the middle of a storm. The only other thing is a colossal Lighthouse that touches the sky. Will also have triggering content.

Untitled FIlmmaker Romance Concept

It’s not that I’ve not had ideas. Far from it, actually. What’s stopping me from writing is that I have one specific idea that won’t leave my head. I want to write it desperately. I want to film it and I want to make it a great film. I know the exact people who can help me realise this too. I can see the whole thing in my head, and almost feel the leather of the seat and smell the warm sweet popcorn as I watch it in the cinema. It’s a perfect idea. The problem is that it’s not my idea. It’s C. Daniels’ idea.

(Contemporary Romance) About a filmmaker who gets the rights to adapt a short film from a writer, but she requests to be directly involved in the scripting process. They bond not only as creatives but potential romantic partners, though something is holding her back.

(I'm weird about romance because it's basically that I hate seeing so much toxicity in novel relationships and I just want to write the things that I wish I could see more, but it's not my go-to genre either)

@littleshipofwords

@alnaperera

@stanrendipity

@fictionalbullshitter

@wmlittlemoreauthor

@ryns-ramblings

#writeblr #writer #writing #writing blog #female writers #writing tag game #writing tag

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achoonihaachu · 3 years

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God Must Hate Me; Ch. 2

A/N: Hello beautiful people! Thank you so much for the love you showed the first part of the series! II’ve made a few changes to the plot and it’s looking like this is definitely going to be longer than 3 chapters... sooo... get ready for the massive angst dump about to happen in future chapters! I hope you enjoy chapter two and I would love to get requests or feedback for the future work I plan on doing for the OM! fandom <33 Again, thank you so much to @its-dari for letting me take inspiration from her post of the "replaced mc au"!

pairings: Simeon x mc, Solomon x mc, Diavolo x mc, Demon Brothers x mc (platonic... for now), Luke x mc (PLATONIC!), MC x Fem!OC

warnings: cursing, possibly triggering! insinuated eating disorder (just a tad bit, okayy? :( im sorryy!), verbal abuse, gaslighting (if you squint,, maybe), possible future spoilers for chapter 16, not proofread well </33

reminder: you are loved, you are deserving of love, don’t let anybody tell you otherwise! i’m so proud of you, even if you think you’ve done nothing to warrant that, i’m proud of you okay >:(( ur amazing and beautiful and *chefs kisses* ily <333

“Would you like to move to Purgatory Hall indefinitely?”

“I apologize for my next choice of words but Diavolo, what the fuck?!”

“Did I say something wrong?”

You didn’t know how to reply. You were sure you knew your friends pretty well by now. You knew how Barbatos brewed his super special tea. You knew of how Luke slept with a pillow he brought from the Celestial Realm because he got homesick. You knew how Simeon would switch out pots when Solomon cooked dinner because he didn’t want to risk everyone getting food poisoning after. You could go on and on about everyone else but to put it simply, you knew every little secret all your friends had.

Yet, it still astonishes you how these beings manage to say something so potentially life changing with the same level of nonchalance as if they had just mentioned the weather to you.

Everyone stared at you with expectant, hopeful eyes but you simply sighed, “I’ll think it over tonight.” You state. You could almost feel Luke vibrating with excitement. He knew that this was his big opportunity to finally convince you to live with them in Purgatory Hall now.

Diavolo smiled at you with understanding, Barbatos standing poised behind him with an unreadable expression, “Alright well, you can text me your decision first thing in the morning,”

Luke refused to let you leave Purgatory Hall after that. You were basically guilt tripped into spending the night with the other exchange students sans Yuki. You had to face the girl’s wrath through a call, though it felt more like jealousy mixed than anger. She whined for a good 10 minutes about having made plans to stay up all night with you to binge watch a cutesy anime she found but she settled with doing that after your Ristorante Six dinner. She said goodbye to you and to the others in Purgatory Hall and then she hung up. Diavolo and Barbatos left shortly after, mentioning that they had business to deal with and after steeling through your own set of puppy dog eyes, they bid you farewell and disappeared into the night.

You didn’t see the glares on their faces when they turned. You didn’t see how they didn’t walk back to the Demon Lord’s Castle. They head over to RAD, late at night, to settle a few of the many files and paperwork that dealt with everything happening to you.

You remained blissfully unaware of the growing tension plaguing the House of Lamentation.

With Luke happily snoring away with his head leaning against your chest, you turn to look at the other side of the couch to see Solomon asleep with his arm propped up on the arm rest. Turning to look back down to Luke, you saw Simeon still awake with his attention turned to you, the television droning on in the background, making for perfect ambience, “(MC), I hope I'm not overstepping any boundaries when I say this but… I believe it’s for the best if you move into Purgatory Hall with us.” He says, voice soft as if he were afraid that he'd scare you away if he raised his voice any louder.

You sat up slightly, careful to not wake the sleeping angel against you, “Simeon, I-” You started, only to be cut off by Simeon’s raised hand, “Let me explain why.” He says, expression hopeful as he practically asks you for permission with his eyes.

You bite your lip, silent for a few beats before you nod. Simeon nods back, “Solomon and I have been worried for you for months now. You seemed so stressed when you came to school from the House of Lamentation. You always had something occupying your thoughts, and you’ve started to practically deteriorate in front of our eyes. We weren’t joking when we said we love you, (MC). We can’t stand seeing you like this.” He paused for a moment.

“The brothers, Lucifer especially, have always been like this. They’re… They’re good at being selfish and they toss out the old for the new. I’m not saying that you’re old news, honestly we, including Lord Diavolo and Barbatos, would pick you over Yuki any day, but the demon brothers… Well, they’re not known as the Seven Avatars of Sin for nothing. What I'm trying to say is that we’ll treat you right here in Purgatory Hall. You’d be loved, treasured the way you should be. You can stop pretending to be content living with beings that bring you so much pain. I’d give anything to see you be the same happy (MC) you used to be.”

You felt your eyes prickle with salty tears, “Simeon… I’m sorry for worrying you. I- I just thought that… that… I’m sorry.” you whisper and in that moment, Simeon knew that you were broken. He’s lived many a centuries, he’s witnessed great floods, mass genocide by other humans. He’s witnessed the births and deaths of so many humans from his place in the Celestial Realm. He… He saw great sorrow when the brothers first fell after the Great Celestial War. He felt that sorrow and pain himself when he simply watched on the sidelines.

He knows a broken being when he sees one, and he saw one in that moment.

He gently moves Luke, whose arms are wrapped tightly around his white satin pillow, to lie down on the sofa as he kneels in front of you. You hiccup quietly, eyes still brimming with tears. You stop yourself from blinking. You refuse to let these tears fall. You refuse to let yourself cry over demons who couldn’t appreciate all the sacrifices you’ve made for them.

He stares up at you, concerned, as he opens his arms to you. You hesitate before lowering yourself to the floor and reluctantly bury your face into the fabric of his black shirt. He smells vaguely of citrus and soap, you know the generic kind he bought because his skin would break out in rashes when he tried the different scents offered in the Devildom stores. You sniffle lightly, eyes still blurry as a few traitorous tears slipped from their place.

You cursed those salty tears for sullying Simeon’s pristine clothes.

Simeon slowly rubbed circles on your back, whispering words of comfort as he held you in his arms. Your body wracked with every silent sob, your breathing quickly becoming shallow as your nose grew runny. Now, you definitely forbade yourself from getting your snot on Simeon’s clothes. You cry quietly against his chest, your sobs slowly weakening and slowing after what seemed like hours but was more like a few minutes.

“I’m truly sorry for worrying you, Simeon. I- I just… I love them, y’know? And I love Yuki. God, I can’t even hate Yuki because she’s so lovely but what have I ever done to be punished like this? To be unloved like this after all I’ve given for those fools?!” You cry out weakly.

You find solace in the angel in front of you.

And for once after a long while, you’re glad to have been chosen for this program because… You got to meet Simeon.

You woke up, head pounding, in a room definitely not your own. The walls were painted a beautiful shade of pastel blue. Furniture, like the tall wardrobe and the simple study table situated by french windows, were all painted in pure white. Even the detailing of the windows was an ivory white. A tiny yellow plant that was reminiscent of an angel’s halo was placed on the table, glowing slightly with a radiant yellow. It somehow gave you comfort. You weren’t sure what time it was, your eyes were bleary but you were sure that it was morning. You yawned, stretching slightly when the door opened to reveal Simeon and Luke standing in the doorway with a tray of delicious looking food. You let out a tiny happy sound, feeling extremely grateful for the hospitality.

Since Yuki came, the brothers often forgot to leave food for you, feigning ignorance to your needs for hers. They’d say that the food was only enough for 8 people, that there wasn’t enough in the fridge to make more. They brushed off your early complaints and Asmodus even told you once that it was for the best, as you looked like you could lose a few pounds.

You passed out in the school’s hallway that week from hunger.

Since you didn’t eat at home, you went to school hungry or you ate at a small coffee shop on your way to school. Yuki would apologize profusely for being the reason for their change of behavior. You wave her off with a tired smile.

They’ve always exercised their power and authority on you.

Luke bounded over to the side of the bed, his happiness seemed to know no limits as he talked with the speed of a bullet train, “Good morning, (MC)! I-I’m sorry about falling asleep during our movie marathon! I made you these celestial sugar cookies! Michael sent me a care package full of vanilla beans that the younger fledgling angels tended to in the Celestial Castle!” He climbed onto the bed, elbows clumsily pushing him up to sit by you as he unscrewed the clear glass jar. The scent of freshly baked cookies made your toes curl.

It smelt heavenly, the pun is intended.

Before you could grab a handful of the young angel’s divine treats, you heard Simeon clear his throat, “Luke, I told you to give that to them after they eat breakfast.” He spoke sternly, but he didn’t scare you. You were so used to being scared into obeying a command, to listen to every word spoken by what was deemed to be authority as if their words were written in stone.

It’s how your life has been the past few months in the House of Lamentation.

No, with Simeon, you felt your heart fill with a comforting warmth. The way he chided and guided Luke like a shepherd would with a playful lamb, funnily enough. You believed that his austerity shouldn’t even be classified as such, for he spoke with kindness and love. Simeon’s eyes met yours and his gaze softened immediately, “I hope the bed was to your liking. The other guest rooms were stuffy and a tad dusty so I brought you to my room. I apologize for doing so without your consent.” He looked away sheepishly, his grip on the silver tray tightening ever so slightly. You shot up, almost knocking into Luke as you shook your head,” No! It’s alright! I-I felt comfortable… At home, even.” You say shyly. You missed the light pink dusting Simeon’s cheeks.

“T-That’s a relief. Luke and I brought enough food for all three of us. He insisted on letting you take it easy today.” Simeon mentions as he places the tray on the bedside table.

You pull on the silk sheets, feeling slightly self conscious as the fact that Simeon carried you to bed finally sunk in. Before you could wallow in your embarrassment, Luke waved a cookie in front of you with a toothy grin stretched across his face.

You choose to move on, grabbing the cookie with a giggle as you all dug into the treats and the breakfast.

“Hey, Simeon…” You hear the ravenette hum in response, mouth full with the bite he took of the sandwiches they made, “Where’s Solomon?”

The almighty sorcerer was seated across from Diavolo, quill in hand as he eyed the documents that lay in a file strewn on a small pile on the table in front of him. “I had Barbatos look into the future and document everything he had seen. These papers hold all of that information. I entrust that you will not interfere nor will you try to reveal anything to the rest involved in this situation.” Diavolo states, arms folded on the table as he stares at the tall stack of papers beside him.

There were probably a few hundred files, all recounting different futures and different destinies that you could choose. “I see. Well, why is there a stack specifically given to me?”

“Solomon… I don’t think you’d like to hear it come from me-” Diavolo was cut off by Solomon, hand raised to silence the demon prince.

“Lord Diavolo, with all due respect, why did you summon me and why is there a stack of files here in front of me?” His voice was laced with venom, he feels it’s less of his anger and more of his fear of what was about to be revealed to him.

“Those are the futures where (MC) is killed.”

Solomon has lived for a long time now and there were days when he cursed his immortality. It made him afraid to love. He’s loved before but in time, he had to bury that love 6 feet underground. He couldn’t tell you how many generations he’s had to bury into freshly dug soil. He couldn’t stand the way the people he’s loved be remembered only by the stupid piece of stone that laid erect on top of where they slept for eternity. No matter how many times he’s buried a lover or a friend, the heartache that comes with losing them to time or to an illness never numbs. So, after a few centuries, he’s learnt to stop loving. He’s learnt to make deals with similarly immortal beings, with demons from the underworld. He’d keep his heart under lock and key because he couldn’t deal with another heartbreak. Then you came.

You, this weak little human without immortality, managed to find the key he’s tossed away a long time ago, and you’ve managed to free his heart. He’s grown quite fond of you, the way you can just exist and make a room be so much more colorful, so much more lively. He’s a sorcerer with centuries of knowledge and experience and he knows for a fact that you’re the only being in existence to have such a strong pull, having the strongest demons in Hell, a magnificent sorcerer, and angels in Heaven wrapped around your finger.

Hearing the words that had just come from Diavolo’s lips made the color drain from Solomon’s face. He felt breathless, like the air in his lungs had been knocked out by an invisible force. He slowly shook his head, placing the quill back into the inkwell. “No, there must be some mistake…” He mutters to himself. He was normally a confident man that took everything in stride but in that moment, his shaky hands were untrustworthy. He was forced to steel himself, moving to grab the file at the very top, “Lord Diavolo, if I can presume correctly, your pile is of the futures where (MC) will be safe with us, right?”

Diavolo’s expression was grim, he hesitated to respond. Solomon’s breath hitched in his throat, hands unable to pry the file open. His eyes find Diavolo’s, wide with panic and fright, “Please tell me that these aren’t likely to happen…” He whispers.

In the House of Lamentation, Yuki’s door remained sealed shut, as if it were uninhabited. The brothers all took turns walking by to knock, trying to convince her to open the door. Lucifer made the most visits, knocking every hour to somehow convince her to come out without apologizing. Yuki managed to paste a piece of paper on her door whilst there weren’t any demons roaming the halls.

The paper read, “When you disrespect (MC), you’re disrespecting ME!” With an angry cartoon version of Yuki drawn in red ink on the bottom of the paper.

The brothers were all gathered in the common room, with the exception of Leviathan who had been missing since last night and Lucifer who had just left to bother Yuki again. Leviathan texted them about completing a new game so he wasn’t aware of Yuki’s angry outburst, he wasn’t there after all. Mammon sat by the fireplace, knee bouncing in the growing panic of his favorite human purposefully ignoring him, “I don’t even want an apology! I just need’a take ‘er out to town! I’ve gotta catch this big blackjack tournament with my lucky charm.” He huffed. Satan snorted from a few spots away from his older brother, hands gripping tightly on the book he’s binge reading. “Obviously like the scum you are, you only think of how her anger’s going to affect you negatively. She’s mad at us for one thing or another. Can’t you use that tiny brain of yours to think of how we can get her to forgive us?” He seethes, a wry smile on his lips as he tries his best to keep his wrath under control.

Before the brothers could have the chance to break out into another squabble, Lucifer stomps in, face contorted in frustration as he crumples up a piece of paper to throw into the warm fire that grew by the sofas. “Wait, Lucifer what’s that?” Satan queries, tossing his book on the couch as he approaches his brother. Lucifer’s eyes blazed with unfiltered anger, “Humans are childish.” He spits through gritted teeth, handing Satan the paper in his hands.

It was the paper Yuki stuck on the door.

Mammon scampers over to take a look, only to scoff, “(MC) would never be this childish.” He mutters to himself, unaware of what his words really meant. The other boys walk over to peek at what Yuki had written. Asmodeus shrugged, “Still, it’s kinda cute? I mean, Yuki’s always adorable so it’s alright this once, I suppose.”

What the brothers didn’t realize was how Yuki planned on keeping this up.

Lucifer sinks onto the main couch in the common room, hands furiously rubbing his face as he feels his head throb. He had no time for this. He’s got to report to Diavolo in a few minutes, he’s got a monstrous pile of paperwork to complete, a childish human was the least of his worries.

Just as he moved to get ready to head to the Demon Lord’s Castle, he got a text from Diavolo’s number.

“Good day, Lucifer. This is Barbatos contacting you through the Young Master’s phone to inform you that there are some urgent matters the Prince has to tend to, and unfortunately he will have to cancel your monthly report meeting this afternoon. I will be at the House of Lamentation in 10 minutes to pick up all the paperwork you have completed. That is all.”

Lucifer was completely floored. He was speechless. He… Was he unneeded that day? His eyes scan the text about a dozen times. Diavolo was attending to matters without him. Barbatos was going to pick up the work he finished? He grew nervous in his seat. Did he do something to deem him unworthy of being trusted with the matters being dealt with? Without realizing, he thought back to how you would help him calm down from an awfully stressful day. The way you soothed him without hurting his pride… Yuki. Yuki can do that for him, right?

He shot up from his seat, eyes crazed as he rushed out of the room, leaving his brothers in shock. In his mind, he was acting logically enough; He was upset, ergo he needed comfort from his favorite human.They’d never disobey him, seeing him in distraught would be enough for her to forgive him for now, right? (MC) would always forgive them even after the worst of fights because they knew that they were needed.

It was a solid enough plan in his distraught mind.

His fist was heavy on Yuki’s door, his hair was disheveled from rushing up the stairs so quickly. “What do you want?” Her voice was muffled by the heavy ancient door but even then, he could hear the anger laced in her voice. He winced ever so slightly before he cleared his throat, “Yuki? I apologize but I hope you wouldn’t mind if I came into your room. I’m quite under the weather, and I would appreciate your company and a few rods of comfort. Please.” He said, voice wavering when he said the word please, sour bile threatening to come from his throat as his pride got in the way. He was met with silence before he heard the lock click. The door creaked open ever so slightly, Yuki had peeked ever so slightly at him, “That’s rich coming from you, Morningstar.” She scoffed, glare frigid as if she was staring into his black soul. His patience was running thin quickly, “Pardon me?” He asked. His hearing must be going, that’s it. All the screaming he endured for eons from his idiotic brothers must have caught up to him and he all of the sudden developed tinnitus or possibly an ear infection. Yuki wouldn’t have said that to him, not his favorite human exchange student.

Yuki pulled the door open some more, only to block Lucifer from stepping in. She folded her arms and glared up at him, “You heard what I said. That’s rich, coming from you. When (MC) begged you to stop your torment, you feigned ignorance and you hurt them so deeply. You didn’t comfort them on the days they felt under the weather. I was the one to dry their tears. ” She said unflinchingly.

Somewhere in the house, Satan stilled. He felt great waves of wrath roll over his entire being, almost drowning him in the powerful emotion he reigned over. He gripped the hardbound book in his hands, jaw clenched so hard that he would’ve probably broken his jaw if he were a human. He thought back to what (MC) taught him. Breathing exercises. Count to 10, 1, 2, 3, 4... don’t let your wrath get the better of you, Satan. You’re so much more than the wrath you were born from. You don’t scare me, tan-tan!

Oh, MC...

Yuki rolled her eyes at the fallen seraphim, scoffing as she turned her back on him, “What makes you think I’d choose to comfort an asshole like you?” With that, she shut her door in his face with a slam.

Yuki sat back down on her bed to scroll on her DDD, feeling smug as she heard a vase break in the hallway.

You were washing dishes in Purgatory Hall after a good quarrel with Simeon about him letting you clean at all during your stay with them. Your eyes were glazed over as you thought back to Yuki. She was such a good friend. She defended you when she could, always choosing you and including you every time something happened in the House of Lamentation. You didn’t notice the figure standing in the doorway, “Good morning, (MC). School’s about to start soon, and I got a few messages that the brothers and Yuki had no plans on going. Were you planning on ditching as well?” You jump cartoonishly, almost dropping the pretty dishware before you glare at the figure clad in a blood red suit, “Diavolo!”

Solomon steps into the kitchen from behind the tall demon prince,”Leave those dishes there at once, (MC).” He says in faux anger, his lips twitching slightly as he stops himself from smiling. You stick your tongue out at him as you turn back to the last few dishes in the sink, “I’m almost done, alright? Wait in the common room, I’ll be with you all in a few minutes.” You say sweetly, unaware of the two men's staring.

You emerge from the kitchen, hands still damp with a few stray bubbles on your forearm. You meekly wipe your hands on your uniform jacket as you are met with a crowded common room. Lord Diavolo, Barbatos, and Solomon sat on one of the sofas facing the elongated one you and the other exchange students were lounging on last night. Barbatos had a sizable stack of papers beside him, pristine and unwrinkled and you awed at the butler. How on Earth can someone carry around paperwork without wrinkling it? Well, that’s the overly competent demon butler for you. You had half a mind to ask where it came from so early in the morning but you held back your question.The aforementioned sofa was occupied by Luke and Simeon, who were stifling their laughter at your expression. “Is this an intervention?” You joked as you took a seat beside Luke.

Diavolo snickered, “Sort of.” He teased back as he looked over at Solomon, who had a tight-lipped smile on his face.

“Well, (MC). Have you decided?” Barbatos asked. You bit your lip as you stared at your feet. You sighed, closing your eyes as you raised your head back up.

“Yes. I’ve decided to accept your offer to move me into Purgatory Hall.”

You had a blast at RAD, for the first time in a long time. You had messaged Yuki and told her that you’d just meet her at Ristorante Six, you joked about being mad at her for leaving you to go to a school crawling with demons who would kill to eat your soul. Though true, you knew you were safe in the protection of the Demon Prince, his butler, and the most powerful exchange students in all of the Devildom.

The seconds you spent with your new house mates, basically, turned into hours and before you knew it, it was time for your dinner with Yuki.

In the House of Lamentation, Asmodeus picked at his fingernails nervously as he stood outside Yuki’s door. He had been trying to build up enough courage to just knock and get this over with but he heard the commotion after Lucifer bolted from the common room. If the ever powerful, ever prideful Lucifer Morningstar lost his cool to a measly human, what could he do as the fifth-born?

He strained to listen in on Yuki’s movements, he could make out that she was humming a tune from a human song you adored. He couldn’t recall the title but he knew it was a love song.

“Hmm… hmm.. Hmm..”

“It was enchanting to meet you..”

He was about to knock when he felt a force push him against the door. “Ah!” He yelped as he rubbed at his forehead. Turning to put a curse on whoever just gave him a bruise, he faltered when he saw Belphegor.

“Who is it now?” Yuki’s voice was sharp and unforgiving, so far from the sweet Yuki they were used to. Before Asmodeus could reply, Belphegor put a curse on the door; no one can get in or get out unless he says so. After months of tutoring from you and Solomon, Yuki was able to start feeling strong magic, and she felt this wave of a powerful curse. “W-what?” She ran over to the door, turning the handle but was unable to open it.

“What the fuck are you doing, Asmo?!” She snarled, violently turning the handle. Asmodeus squeaked, “I-It wasn’t me, darling!” He called out, moving to pry the door open. The poor girl would starve if Belphegor chose to keep the door locked! He glared daggers at his little brother, “Open the damn door, Belphie.” He spat out, hands unresting as he kept trying to get the knob to budge. Belphegor lazily sighed, “No. I heard her yell at Beel earlier.” He scoffed.

Yuki was starting to worry. Her date with you was in 30 minutes.

You were walking to Ristorante Six with Solomon. You managed to convince him to hold your hand and you were now swinging your arms back and forth with every step you took. Solomon said that he would only do it because he was a good housemate, saying that he wouldn’t have agreed if you didn’t move into Purgatory Hall (he had half a mind to say that he could’ve used this to blackmail a certain Avatar of Pride into making a pact with him, though he never mentioned this part due to everything that has been happening in the past few months).

You didn’t mention how his face was as red as a stop sign to protect his dignity.

You were feeling so much better after so long and you were going to savor every moment. You were out of the House of Lamentation. You were in a home where people cared about you. You were loved again, just like you prayed for.

And did it feel good.

Just as you and Solomon turned the corner, you got a message from Yuki, “Hey babes, the bros asked me to finish some paperwork. I gotta call for a raincheck on our date, okay? Don’t come back to HoL rn, Belphie’s being a little brat. ILY, take care of yourself at Purgatory Hall!” You pout as you read the text out loud for Solomon, who grimaced as you finished reading.

Did Yuki know something?

He fished his phone out from under his big cloak, “Hold on, (MC). I have to make a quick phone call. I’ll get Simeon and Luke to come here and the four of us can have dinner at Ristorante Six instead. It’ll be my treat, think of it as a celebration for your move to Purgatory Hall.” He says, ruffling your hair before nudging you into the direction of the restaurant.

As you walked away, he chanted a protection spell on you; he managed to rub a bit of his magic man dust on your pretty little head.

He quickly typed a message to Luke, telling him to bring Simeon to meet you at Ristorante Six. After getting a response from the tiny angel, he dialed Diavolo’s number, eyebrows furrowed,

“Good evening, Lord Diavolo. Is this the future you and Barbatos prepared to make happen?”

---------

tags for those who asked! : @edible-sushi , @knmsapplepi , @kxyren , @its-dari , @izukulus , @farysblog , @atinyidea-bon , @affecteddream , @yunbedo , @raven-darkessence , @crystal-freak24 , @gallantys , @xfatefulmistyx , @crystalmystery , @another-one-again , @moni-sama

#obey me x mc #obey me replaced mc au #obey me x reader #obey me headcanons #obey me #obey me angst

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fridayfirefly · 4 years

Text

Warmth - Part One

Read Warmth on AO3

Masterlist

Written for Maribat March Day 3 - Warmth

Damian woke the moment she appeared in his bed, her warm presence instantly triggering his well-ingrained sense of danger. It took him only a half-second of looking at her to realize what had happened. Gently but firmly, Damian nudged her awake.

"You just Soulmate shifted," he informed her as soon as she blinked open her tired blue eyes.

"Okay," she mumbled, speaking with a distinct French accent, "I'm going back to bed."

Damian gave her an incredulous look. "You don't have any follow-up questions?"

"None that can't wait until morning." She rolled over, then immediately sat up. Damian was relieved that she had finally come to her senses until she took off the backpack and purse she had on. "It's super uncomfortable to sleep with a backpack on."

"You brought a backpack?"

"It was the night before my sixteenth birthday. I figured there was a 50-50 chance that I would Soulmate shift, so I decided I might as well pack the essentials."

"That's smart," Damian conceded.

The girl pulled Damian's blanket over her, stopping only when she saw who was sleeping on the pillow she was about to steal. “Is that your cat?”

“Yes, that’s Alfred the Cat.”

“He’s so pretty,” the girl cooed, offering her hand out to the black-and-white cat. Alfred gave her outstretched hand a tentative sniff before nuzzling his head up against her and leaping off of the pillow to settle in her arms.

The girl was asleep in just a moment, soft breathing mixing with the sound of Alfred the Cat’s rumbling purr. Damian was left awake to watch her, to try and puzzle out some clues to who she was based on the half-dozen sentences she spoke before falling asleep.

The most important piece of information Damian knew: she was his Soulmate. It was so easy, it was barely a deduction. On the night of their sixteenth birthday, the younger Soulmate of a Soulmate pair shifts into the bed of the older Soulmate. So long as the younger Soulmate continues sleeping in the same bed as the older Soulmate, they will remain together. However, as soon as the Soulmate pair sleeps apart, the younger is returned to their original bed. After that, the Soulmate pair has to physically travel to meet. The only explanation for what just happened (i.e. the girl's sudden appearance in Damian's bed) was that she was his Soulmate.

By the same logic, Damian also knew that today, August 9th, was the girl's sixteen birthday. That made her five months younger than himself. From her accent, Damian believed her to be Parisian.

Damian held off of making any more assumptions about her out of respect for his Soulmate. It wouldn't be fair to judge her before they properly met.

Checking the clock, Damian saw that it was midnight. Figuring that it would do him no good to stay up all night staring at her, Damian pulled a second blanket over himself and went to sleep.

-----

Damian woke up at eight in the morning, the girl still sleeping away beside him. Damian was confused, as the differences in time zone meant that if she were still in France, she would be sleeping at two in the afternoon. Figuring that she had gotten a full eight hours of sleep and that it would be a good idea to stop any potential jetlag in its tracks, Damian nudged her awake.

"Hmm, where am I?" She mumbled in tired French.

"You Soulmate shifted into my bed. You're in Gotham, New Jersey," responded Damian, in English, since he knew she could speak it.

That seemed to wake her up. "America?" she asked again, this time in English.

"Yes."

She blinked, wide-eyed, and shaken. "That isn't at all what I expected. Not that it's a bad thing, I just figured I would stay in Europe, at least. I'm from France - Paris, France. And I'm Marinette, by the way."

"I'm Damian. So I assume you just turned sixteen."

Damian didn't phrase it as a question, but Marinette nodded anyway and said, "Yes."

"Happy Birthday, then."

Marinette smiled nervously. "Thanks. I was very out of it last night, so I apologize if I came off as rude. I was just so nervous about shifting that I stayed up until five in the morning on a caffeine-high and then crashed so hard I think I went into a temporary coma."

"Do you do that a lot?"

"Only on the weekend," she joked. "On weekdays I try to keep it one espresso shot every six hours."

"You'll get along well with my brother, then. He's also a caffeine addict."

"So you have brothers, Damian my older Soulmate from Gotham."

"Five months older. Three brothers and two sisters, though I'm related to none of them by blood. One Father and one butler who doubles as a Grandfather figure. One cat, one dog, and one cow."

"Cow?"

"It's a long story. I'm vegetarian, the cow was on the way to the slaughterhouse, and I decided that I needed to intervene."

Marinette smiled at him like she couldn't believe that he was real. "So when do I get to meet the brothers and sisters."

Damian glanced over at the clock, reading 8:34. "Breakfast starts in twenty-six minutes. That should give you enough time to get ready."

Marinette's eyes lit up. "I have the perfect meeting-my-Soulmate's-family outfit in my backpack." She hopped off the bed and grabbed her backpack, taking it into his connecting bathroom. "I'll meet you in twenty."

Damian watched her shut the door behind her, trying to believe his luck. Marinette was clever, witty, and beautiful, with a smile that could light up a room. He had known that his Soulmate would be perfect for him, but it hadn't really hit him until he saw her up close. Marinette was perfect. Now, he thought as he pulled out his phone and got into the family groupchat, all he had to do was make sure his stupid brothers didn't ruin it.

@maribatmarch-2k21

#maribat #daminette #miraculous ladybug fic #soulmate au #marinette x damian #maridami #Marinette Dupain-Cheng #Damian Wayne #MaribatMarch2021

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shinonometrash · 3 years

Text

Jasper Lane’s Main Story: English vs Japanese version, full summary, comparisons & thoughts. Part 1 of 3. (TW: rape, sexual assault, drugging)

So! Jasper’s route has finally been released in English as of August 31st, 2021. It seems that Voltage is following the same release order for consorts and events as how items were released in the Japanese version. I spent wayyy too much money to binge the entire route in a day...and get all the premium content...(honestly the hardest part about binging a route isn’t the love passes, it’s getting all the spirit points. Ugh.) I took note of a lot of different things in this and wanted to make a post going over all this information. Sorry this post took me so long to make, I had to go back and reread a lot of Jasper’s story in Japanese to refresh my memory as well as make sure I didn’t miss any big details since I had read it first back in May, and my Japanese has improved a lot (I think) since then. It was unfortunate and I didn’t really want to, lol. But! Now it’s his birthday (9/11)! I get to post this on his birthday! Happy birthday, asshole! This post is why you and your route suck! I’m probably only going to be able to post this first part today though, because honestly this post is taking much more time than I expected.

The biggest thing is going to be that

Jasper’s English (Court of Darkness) route does NOT contain any major triggering content. You’ll probably still want to punch him, though.

So, if you’re looking to find out about that, there you go. Anyways.

I’ve broken this into four posts, three that contain summaries of each chapter, regardless of changes, and one that only contains the changes.

(As of the date of posting, 9/11/2021, I have not completed all the posts yet. Please check back later and I will add the links to the rest of them as they are posted.)

This post is part one including the summaries. Part two in currently progress. Part three in currently progress. Post with ONLY comparisons and thoughts currently in progress.

Since I had contacted Voltage about the triggering content in Jasper’s route (and made a very lengthy Tumblr post about it) and they told me they prefer to remove potentially triggering content from stories in the localization process, rather than simply adding trigger warnings, I was more or less expecting this. Although...I didn’t really expect it to be to this extent, nor did I realize how I was actually going to feel about it...! Of course, the CoD did a fabulous job with the content they were given and what they were told to do, as always, and I completely understand why they changed what they did. Like. Seriously. They did the best they could do with the absolute mess of a route they were given. But, like, the route was an absolute mess to begin with. So there’s only so much that can be done to fix it...💀 Anyways, please know that any of my complaining is not directed at the CoD team because they’re wonderful!! Support them by buying in game content if you’re able to!! They recently released a special VIP pack that’s honestly an AMAZING deal. This is just a criticism of the route itself and my thoughts on it, not on the CoD team.

Now, onto the main point of the post...the English and Japanese versions of this route are very different.

Warning: This post contains major spoilers about Jasper’s main story as well as potentially triggering content including but not limited to rape, sexual assault, and drugging.

In addition, I am not including any CGs in this post as I’m not trying to break Voltage’s policy.

Please click under the read more to continue.

Okay, so first off this is probably going to sound incredibly self centered of me, but I sort of get the feeling that my post about his Japanese route had some sort of influence on the changes in his route...? Not sure how big of tabs Voltage keeps on Tumblr...but it seems like nearly all of the main points I was specifically really mad about got changed--and I’m sure they must have definitely seen my post...? Also, this too probably sounds silly, but I was kinda happy reading some of the dialogue that was nearly the same as the way I had translated it. Part of me was still afraid that I had no idea what I was talking about and just looked stupid writing a long post with misinterpretations of lines💀

Pre-notes: 1. For those who named their cat something else, Robin = MC’s cat. 2. In the direct quotes, anytime you see “---” it’s just me cutting out a part in the dialogue that I deem unnecessary for comparison purposes. 3. I bolded whether there’s differences in the chapters or not in each chapter summary, in case you only want to read the summaries for the chapters with the differences. It’s pretty much going to be the same as reading my other post, then, but I explain more of the chapter here, usually.

Chapter 1-3

Literally so dull. Nothing really of note. Pretty much the same between the English and Japanese. Jasper asks about her hands and she’s like “omg he’s so nice he was worried about my hands!!”, she meets Sherry and they become friends, the headmaster tells her she has to learn magic if she wants a chance at going back home. They go to the runes and learn about the history of Saligia. Guy grabs her again, she escapes.

Chapter 4

It starts to get a little bit more interesting here. Overall, nothing seems too different between the two stories yet. Jasper invites her to the rooftop for a tea party. Jasper is desperately trying to get MC to interact (in a positive manner) with Guy, she asks Jasper to have tea with her instead. Sherry and Rio mention a ball. Toa and Guy get into a glaring match. Toa leaves. You know, the usual. Jasper whispers something in Guy’s ear and they leave, and everybody follows them because...you know. They discover that Guy’s room has been trashed. Toa walks in and asks what’s going on, and then falls silent when he sees Guy’s room. Guy is like “Toa, you left before me, did you not?” and Toa is like “What are you trying to imply?” then they glare at each other until Lynt is like “Are you trying to say that Toa is the culprit? He would never.” Fenn agrees. Roy says they should investigate, and Toa says he will also investigate, since he is the dorm prefect after all. Afterwards, Jasper asks Guy if he thinks Toa did it, Guy says “No, Qelsum isn’t that stupid.” Guy says they need information. He sends Jasper out to investigate, tells Jasper to be sure not to be seen. Fenn, Violet, and MC go out for food or something, and MC runs into Sirius, literally. Fenn is like “what are you doing?” and MC says she ran into somebody but turns around and there’s nobody there. I guess it’s trying to imply that Jasper is stealthy and can hide away into the night or something?? But then that’s it.

Chapter 5-6

No overall noticeable changes. It’s time for the ball! Sherry lends MC a dress and they head to the ball. She sees Jasper in the hallway closely inspecting wine, without Guy. She calls his name and he startles. He tells her he’s selecting a wine for Guy because Guy is very selective and will not consume anything that Jasper has not prepared. Jasper essentially says that Guy is his reason for living. Then they go into the dance hall. And Guy is all like “why did you come in together?” then they say they ran into each other by chance. Guy goes to take a sip of the wine, looks startled, and then ends up spitting it out into a handkerchief. He claims he choked on the wine. She finds Jasper in the hallway again, looking at the wine, and calls out. Again, he startles. She wonders why. She tries to ask, but then he dodges the question by telling MC that the dress looks good on her. He invites her to dance and says he’ll teach her. They head back to the ballroom, she asks him some various questions and they all basically end with him saying that he serves Guy or whatever, and she’s thinking all like “work, again...?”. Jasper then tries to make her dance with Guy instead of himself, and when she says she’s going to leave he grabs her arm. There’s a few choices you can make, but one of them is “Please let go of me.” And then! And then! This man literally looks at her and asks “Why?” Yikes!! And she asks why he’s asking why, and he says he doesn’t want her to go, so she agrees to stay a little longer. (Mistake #1) Then he shoves her off onto Guy again. After dancing with Guy she goes out to the balcony and runs into Aquia, and Aquia pricks his finger and it starts bleeding. She tries to look at it and it somehow brushes her lips and at that moment Guy and Jasper come out and ask what’s going on. Aquia apologizes (he did nothing wrong!! >:( ) They then discover that Aquia’s wound has magically healed somehow. Then here’s the scene with Guy: “That girl, I want to know everything about her.” Jasper: “Oh my, have you fallen in love?” Guy: “Something like that” Jasper: “Congratulations! We must celebrate this wonderful occasion!” Guy: “That’s enough now. Investigate that woman’s power.”

Chapter 7

No major changes between versions. But...Ughhhhhhhh. We’re gonna meet Sirius in this chapter. But first some humor. They go to the S rank lounge, I believe after the ball. Jasper offers to make coffee. Literally ALL the valets suddenly RUSH to Jasper’s side to ask him to teach them how to brew coffee. So there sitting in the S rank lounge with Jasper brewing coffee while all the other valets are like 👀👀👀👀 lmaoooo. Aight and so the humorous part ends there, sorry! That’s it! Now we must move on. Fenn says he wants to go out drinking and asks Jasper if he’d like to join, Jasper declines saying he has other matters to attend to. We learn that Hawke, Jasper, and Lance are all drinking buddies. MC is all like “oh thank god, that means he does get time off!” -_- So then Toa laughs and comments how close Jasper and MC are, and is like “wow imagine using your valet for something like that” and then tells her that she’ll be a tool for Avari if she sticks with them, and that it’s not too late to switch to Qelsum’s side instead. (She does not switch. Mistake #2. Arguably her biggest mistake in this entire route, if you ask me.) Guy interjects and tells Toa that MC is his, and Toa is like “lmaooo then why does she seem closer with your valet than you?” and then they glare at each other. MC gets annoyed and leaves. Jasper asks where she’s going. She says she’s going back to her room to see Robin. For some reason, Jasper seems disappointed about this? Afterwards, she goes to her room for a bit but then decides to go explore the town with Robin. Uh oh! Robin goes missing.

She starts looking for Robin and runs into this sketch looking dude. He asks her where’s she’s going, she says she’s looking for her cat. He’s like “oh that flying thing?” and she’s like “Yeah!” and then is like “could you just tell me which way he was headed? I can get there myself.” but the guy insists that she should follow him instead, because the streets are dangerous and she might run into dangerous men. The man is then like “I’m Sirius.” (which, when I first read the Japanese, I thought he was saying “I’m serious” lmaoo) and then he frickin grabs her hand and drags her off!!! Yikes!

Chapter 8, 1st Interlude, and Chapter 9

Okay so we’ve got the most significant changes in these chapters. Like. A LOT. This is what the majority of my previous post focused on: the drugging, sexual assault, and morning after. They basically did their best to make this consensual. It went very similar to what I had predicted, although played up a bit more cringe-y than I had expected...or maybe I just hadn’t thought about how cringe-y it would be. There’s literally so many changes that it’d be a bit of a pain to summarize all of them between the versions, I’m just going to put the actual dialogue/stuff from the stories for a lot of this so you can see the differences more directly. (The Japanese will be roughly translated by me, of course.)

Chapter 8

So Sirius starts walking and walking and walking and she asks where they’re going but he keeps insisting it’ll only be just a little longer or that it’s a shortcut and stuff. Ughhhhh...Then she’s like. This man clearly has no idea what he’s doing, I’m going to run away after all. But then he suddenly tells her they’re going to take a “break”. He drags her into the bar before she can protest or try to run. She tries to say no to a drink, but then he asks if she does drink and she’s like “well I do, but...” and you start seeing the differences here. In English she makes a comment of “Ugh, if only he wasn’t so charming.” Sirius further insists only one drink, even though MC tries to say she needs to go find Robin. He then just straight up orders drinks for them, despite her protesting. She then agrees, and then mentally apologizes to Robin. (Mistake #3) And we start seeing the biggest differences about right here...

For this chapter, let’s play a guessing game on which one is the Japanese version and which one is the English version, shall we? :)

Away from the table, Sirius plants a palm on the counter. Two of the usual are set out before him, bubbles frothing over the top. Sirius glances back and finds MC staring at the patterns in the wood grain. Sirius: Much obliged. Tavern Keeper: Mm-hmm. Scooping up the fizzing, popping tumblers, he tosses a wink at the tavern keeper. Then, he strolls back to spend time with his new friend. - Away from the table, Sirius plants a palm on the counter. Immediately two of the usual shot glasses are set out in front of him. Just to make sure, he looks back at MC, who is staring at the table. Sirius: Ah, thanks. Tavern Keeper: Mhm. Sirius skillfully drops the tablet he had hidden between his fingers into the shot glass of the opposite hand. Then, feigning a nonchalant look, he returns back to the table.

Did you guess which one was which in this part? :) And yes, my friends. In the fucking CANON MAIN ROUTE, it deadass has a line saying that our love interest puts a drug in our drinks. And yet...the Japanese fans still love him! Ugh. Also, that “skillfully” bit really concerns me. That kinda implies that he’s done it multiple times before, does it not??? Honestly I’m not really sure why it says it was a shot glass in the Japanese, though. I thought they were drinking like cocktails, not taking a shot. Maybe that’s why they changed that bit...? Now the stories are the same again for a tiny bit. Some time has passed that they’ve been in the bar/tavern and MC chugs her drink and slams it down on the table. She seems drunk. She’s rambling about Guy and Jasper. Like “I’m not an object!!” “and he’s like “Yes, yes, you aren’t an object.” then like “Who goes around saying stuff like “you are mine” and “give me your power”?? Like seriously! Who says that sort of stuff! It’s so messed up!” and he just listens along, amused. He then says that it’s good to drink sometimes, and she agrees, and then he asks what she wants to do. She notes how she’s only had one drink, yet her head feels a bit fuzzy already, and how it made her very talkative. She says she wants to go home. She reveals that her family died, and that she has a hair clip in her hair from her mom that’s very important to her. She mentions how there are still good people in this world, though. Sirius tries to order her another drink, and here’s where stuff deviates again.

Sirius: Another of the same, if you please. MC: What, no! I’m fine MC: So hey, you’ve been fantastic company but I really need to go find Robin. (Man I got way too into that conversation.) (Robin must be out there looking for me.) MC: Thanks for the drink, though. You’re a really good listener. And also...really, really pretty. MC: It’s been great meeting you. Maybe I’ll see you around sometime? MC: Like...when I’m not looking for my cat. That’d be...nice.” (I have no filter. No filter whatsoever.) MC: Right, so...Bye... He stands up right as I do. The rickety old table wobbles between us and I pitch into his arms. Sirius: Steady on. Sirius: I might almost think you’ve fallen for me. (Fallen for him? But I’ve only just met the man.) Sirius holds me steady as I smile up at him, feeling silly but bold. He’s even more handsome up close. MC: Like I said, very attractive but...gotta go. Sirius: Hold fast. MC: Haha. Did you just pick me up?! Sirius hefts me into his arms like I weigh nothing, and for a moment I feel like I’m being carried off into the sunset. An electrifying thrill runs through me as I sway against him, adn then I realize we’re moving. MC: Where are we going? Sirius: ... MC: The look he gives me then makes my eyebrows shoot up. I nod and let him carry on. (English version, Mistake #4) When I next open my eyes, I’m being placed down on something fluffy. (I can’t believe I’m actually doing this. I should leave well enough alone but there’s something about him...) I peer at the unfamiliar ceiling overhead while Sirius stares down in my eyes. Sirius: No need to hurry. Sirius: The night’s just begun, after all. (Wait a second, aren’t you...?) The seductive smile on his face comes closer. For a split second he reminds me of someone, but it must be my imagination. - Sirius: Bartender, another of the same. MC: Ah, no, I’m good! MC: I really need to go find Robin. (Yikes, I got totally absorbed in that conversation.) (Surely Robin is looking for me, too) MC: Thanks...for talking with me...and listening... MC: Thanks to that I’ll be sure to...remember this... MC: From now on, I’m going...to study...more seriously...for sure.... (Wha...I’m so dizzy...) MC: Sorry...I’m...leaving now... Sirius: Whoa, hold on. MC: Ah... Unsteady on my feet, Sirius picks me up and holds me in his arms. I feel swaying and I open my eyes slightly. I’m being carried somewhere. MC: Where...are we going...? Sirius: ... Strangely, it feels like the ceiling has gotten awfully high... The next thing I’m aware of when I open my eyes is being placed down on something fluffy. (Where am I...?) I gaze at the ceiling above me and Sirius looks into my eyes. Sirius: Let’s take it slowly. Sirius: The night has just begun, no? (Huh...?) Laughing mysteriously, the man’s face comes closer. For a second, I think he looks similar to someone. But it’s just my imagination, right...?

I’m sure you can guess which one is which. One is extremely alarming, the other is cringe. It’s clear they did the most they could to try and make it consensual between them, and ended up doing exactly what I thought with having her make several comments about how attractive he is and then add some playful flirting between them. �� Alright! Ready for the next part?

1st Interlude

I just read the normal first interlude in Japanese before typing out this post and...god, I thought the premium interlude was bad. So, one more time, trigger warning for sexual assault. Damn I really don’t want to write this part, I’m so tired from writing the rest TT (I saved this for last, unfortunately.) I’m not translating all of these so I’ll do a mix of translating exact lines and summarization. In all the stories, first she calls out Jasper’s name at first, confused, and then Sirius looks shocked. And she’s like, how weird, why would I call him that...he’s clearly Sirius...and then they all start to deviate. ><

Normal Interlude

Japanese version (this is the worst one): MC: I’m sorry...I must’ve gotten drunk, sorry for the trouble... Sirius: So you’re apologizing in this situation. (This...situation...?) He kisses her. (Wha...I’m being...kissed...) I’m aware of it, but my body feels so heavy, I can’t resist it. With my arms pinned to the bed, I’m forced to accept the kiss. He says “what is this power?” and then she sees an aura flare up around him. She asks if it’s magic, and he says that it’s interesting, and then asks if it has to do with the length of time or the type of physical contact. -- Sirius: Is it only your lips, or...? His finger runs along my knee, tickling it. With his other hand, he skillfully slips his hand into my shirt. Sirius: No need to be alarmed. Sirius: I simply wish to confirm. (Confirm...?) Sirius: So soft and smooth, you feel nice to touch. Sirius: But, I don’t feel anything from just touching you... Sirius: Is it different depending on where I touch? The sensation of him stroking my skin falsely spreads through my whole body while his fingertips make their way down to my lower limbs. I move my shoulders to try to tell him “I don’t want you to touch me!”, but it doesn’t matter as his fingertips continue to try to uncover something. MC: St...stop it... Yelling out makes him stop--at least, that’s what I had thought. However, the thing that stops him isn’t my voice. He removes his hand that was feeling around in my shirt and then starts to think about something. (Is he...searching for something...?) Sirius: ...so it can’t be transferred through the skin, hm. (W-what...?) It’s finally over--is what I thought, at least. This time, he drops kisses on my ears and collarbone. When he puts his hands on my thighs again, I want to run away immediately. (Why...? Why is this happening...?) MC: Is this...is this a dream...? Sirius: Yes. It’s a dream. So, goodnight. Sirius: You’re about to reach the limit, aren’t you? (Limit? What is he talking about?) Even if I wanted to think about it, my head is too fuzzy and I can’t think of anything. I don’t like it, but...what is it I don’t like? Surely it was something important, but I can’t remember. Before I could say “I’m sorry, I’m really sleepy” my consciousness blacks out. She passes out and Sirius says something about how interesting it is, and that he must report his findings to Guy.

English version: MC: Sorry, I can’t believe I called you by the wrong name. Sirius: Is this the time for apologies? (I guess not...?) He kisses her. (We’re kissing. I’m kissing Sirius...) He’s certainly attractive enough. I’m not attached to anyone here, and yet...Why is it that I keep thinking of Jasper? He says “what is this power?” and then she sees an aura flare up around him. She asks if it’s magic, and he says that it’s interesting, and then asks if it has to do with the length of time or the type of physical contact. -- Sirius: Is it only your lips, or...? His fingers walk along my knee, tickling me. I shiver and grin as he gives me a considering look, then slips his hand inside my shirt. -- Sirius: I only wish to see what you’re capable of. (Strangest bedroom talk ever.) Sirius: You’re exquisite. Soft, smooth, perfect to the touch... Sirius: But I seek other responses. Sirius: Tell me, is this where you want to be touched? He peers down at me expectantly, hands petting along my skin as if to encourage me to speak. I squeeze my thighs together, hoping he’ll continue without the need for words. He raises an eyebrow. MC: Sirius, I need... At first I think the sound of my voice has given him pause. Then I realize something else has happened. He tidies my open shirt a little and frowns thoughtfully. (What is he doing? What is it he’s looking for?) Sirius: Hm, no transfer from the skin. (Uh, what?) My mouth falls open. Has the moment been ruined somehow? If so, what’d I do? But then he plants tiny kisses over my ears, neck, and cheeks. His hands sweep over me once more, but far more soothingly. Still, I can’t get the image of Jasper out of my mind. (I can’t be doing this. It’s not fair to be thinking of one man when I’m with another. I need to sort my head out.) MC: Sirius, I can’t do this. I’m...I think I’m developing feelings for someone else, so it wouldn’t be fair to you to do this... Sirius: Well, well. There’s an unexpected turn. ...All right. We’ll think of this as nothing more than a passing dream. Sirius: This never happened then. Good night, MC. (Good night? But we’ve only just...) Suddenly I feel very drowsy. A second ago I wanted nothing more than a crazy, one-night romp with a man who has crystalline red eyes. Now I can’t think of anything but how comfortable this bed is. She passes out and Sirius says something about how interesting it is, and that he must report his findings to Guy. --

Yikes!!!!! I was so shocked when I read the normal interlude!! Especially the Japanese version!! Now for the other one...

Premium Interlude

Japanese version:

MC: I’m sorry...I must’ve gotten drunk, sorry for the trouble... Sirius: So you’re apologizing in this situation. (This...situation...?) His voice is close. But besides that, I don’t understand the situation very well. Sirius: Is it hard to open your eyes? MC: Yes... Sirius: I’ll make you feel better right now. (Feel better...?) She sees him put in eyedrops. She tries to ask but her voice is really quiet and her throat is dry. MC: Excuse me, could...could I have some water?” Sirius: I’ll give you some right now I felt something cold touch my lips and water poured down my throat. MC: ...nng (No...it’s something else. I’m...being kissed...) I understand that, but, but I feel too drowsy to be able to resist. With my arms pinned to the bed, I’m forced to accept the kiss. He says “what is this power?” and then she sees an aura flare up around him. She asks if it’s magic, and he says that it’s interesting, and then asks if it has to do with the length of time or the type of physical contact. (What...this kiss...) It’s a kiss that makes me feel as if I’ll be swallowed by the torrent of pleasure. (I’ve never experienced something like this...) Sirius: Ha...ahh... MC: ...mm, Sirius... His lips pull away with a wet sound and I sigh. Sirius: It’s as I thought... MC: Stop...it...already... Sirius: Shhh... Sirius: Be quiet. I’m going to make you feel better. He wipes his finger along my wet lips and pushes it inside my mouth. My shoulders jump and I shiver and inhale sharply, feeling like I’m being bitten on the neck by Sirius. MC: Mnn... Sirius: Suck... He moves his finger around my mouth and I move my tongue as I’m told. Sirius: That’s it good girl... Sirius: ...so it can’t be transferred through the skin, hm. (What...is he talking about...?) Sirius: How about...here? He removes his finger from my mouth and strokes my knee. MC asks if it’s a dream, and the rest of the interlude ends the same way as the normal Japanese interlude ends.

English version:

MC: Sorry, I can’t believe I called you by the wrong name. Sirius: Is this the time for apologies? (I guess not...?) I can almost feel his voice vibrate against my skin. Shivering at the sensation, I let my head fall against the pillows. Sirius: Would you rather keep your eyes closed at the moment? MC: Mm. yeah. I like the sound of your voice. It...reminds me of someone... Sirius: Then keep them closed. Sirius tells her to hold on a minute and puts in eyedrops. MC says her throat is dry and asks for some water. He gives her water, but she realizes that it’s not a cup but rather him giving her water from his lips. -- They kiss. (Who taught him to kiss like this?) It’s like some dam has burst within me and a tide of pleasure is threatening to sweet me away. (I’ve never experienced anything like this. Is this magic, too, or just him?) Sirius: Mm..Yes... MC: Ah...Sirius... A wanton moan escapes me as he gives me space to breathe. The thing is, in my mind’s eye I keep seeing someone else. Sirius: Quite as I suspected. MC: That was incredible. What was-- Sirius: Shh. Hush now. I’ll fufill that yearning of yours. He rubs his thumb against my dampened bottom lip then slips it inside my mouth. My shoulders jump as he moves his lips and teeth over my neck. Sirius: Suck. I obediently swirl my tongue over his thumb, taking it in further. Sirius: Good girl. -- Then she says she can’t do it because of having feelings for someone else, just like in the normal English and the rest of the interlude continues the exact same way.

I can’t believe Voltage was really like “hey, pay us and we’ll make the content less rape-y for you! :)” Big yikes lol. I’d only read the premium at the time of my original post, and I thought that was bad enough to write a post about it. That normal interlude though? YIKES. Like...gahhh I know I already said this same thing like three times earlier but I’m just so grossed out!!

Also, a quick note. The CG for this has Sirius laying on top of her while she has her eyes closed. This is because she’s UNCONSCIOUS in the Japanese version. I was wondering how they were gonna get around it, but like not long before it came out I was like “oh they can just have him comment telling her to close her eyes or something” and I guess that’s more or less what they did...?

Chapter 9

Okay so I realize I did make a slight translation error in my original post about the ninth chapter. She does indeed say “I don’t have a headache” rather than what I had thought it said which was “My head hurts, but it can’t be a hangover.” which is what they went with in the English. “My head doesn’t hurt, though, which suggests I don’t have a hangover.” The rest seems about right, though. Anyways, so this chapter starts the morning after the events of the first interlude with MC waking up in the strange bedroom. While not technically as big of change as in Chapter 8 and the first interlude, this is also one of the most changed chapters between versions.

The Japanese version:

(Where am I?) I open my eyes and am unable to move at first. ---- (Robin and I got separated in town...so I was searching for him) (And then...ah, yeah, I met Sirius) (He was showing me the way...and then there was that bar on the dark street where I was only going to drink one drink, and then...) .... ....... .......... “Shit, I can’t remember anything...” I’m not sure how I got to this room or what happened after I blacked out. My head doesn’t hurt, so it’s not a hangover. I only had one drink, that’s the one thing I CAN remember. “No way...” Nervously, I run my hands down my body. The hem of my shirt was untucked, all the buttons completely undone, and my skirt was rolled up past my thighs. (I want to think it’s just from how I slept...I really want to think that, but...) Being drunk can make you roll around and do that. I can’t hide how anxious I am about this unexpected situation. My heart thumps painfully in my chest and my legs shake. ---- (Huh? A tattoo?) I see Sirius taking a shower in the other room, with a tattoo spread across his back. (That would mean Sirius and I...) Looking at the bed with disheveled sheets, I wrap my arms around my body and hug myself tightly. “Maybe...maybe we just slept, that’s all...” (It’s a pitiful excuse, I know.) (Oh my god!! I need to go find Robin!!) Remembering something very important, she runs out of the room. ---- Sirius: “Ha, she ran away.”

English version:

Where am I? I open my eyes and stay perfectly still for the first few minutes. ---- (I got separated from Robin in town and while I was looking for him I, ended up lost.) (And then...Oh right, I met Sirius. Man, he was attractive.) (He was showing me the way, then we paused for a drink, and then...) Then...Hmm. What did happen? I’m drawing a blank here. “What the? I have no memory of last night.” I have no idea where this is or the events that led to me waking up here. There are flashes of groans and sighs, but that’s all. My head doesn’t hurt, though, which suggests I don’t have a hangover. Not that I’d expect to have one over a single drink, but I remember that drink being similar to a potion. “Uh-oh. Did I hook up with someone?” I carefully pat myself down. My shirt’s untucked, the buttons are undone, and my skirt’s hiked up around my thighs. (Then again, I could’ve just slept weird. Here’s hoping.) I’ve definitely rolled around in my sleep while drunk before. Still, I never thought I’d have to do a walk of shame in another realm. My heart pounds as I look around, trying to figure out who I spent the night with. (Did I somehow manage to book a room for myself? With what coin?) (It’s like everything that happened since I got here caught up to me all at once. What did I do...?) ---- “What was that?” (A tattoo? It was a gorgeous one, if so.) (The question is, how acquainted did I become with that tattoo last night?) The rumbled bedding comes back into view as I put my head in my hands. “Maybe we just crashed here together after our drink.” “...” (Pitiful excuse, but I’ll take it for now.) (Wait, Robin! Oh god. I have to go find him.) I run out of the room as soon as I remember. Given how little of the situation I remember, it’s probably better if we put that night behind us. ---- Sirius: “Alas. She has absconded.”

Then after she leaves, it goes about the same in both versions. She finds Robin at the gates, is rushing to Toa’s class, gets stopped by Jasper. His voice reminds her of Sirius. He then teases her for being late and is like “You said you were going to go back to your room last night, but it seems like you went out and had fun instead.” and she snaps at him and says she didn’t. He acts surprised. She apologizes and walks off, embarrassed. He laughs.

So. Yeah. One of them, MC wakes up confused after being drugged and raped and is trying to process that and then remembers Robin, runs back to the dorms, and has to deal with Jasper teasing her saying she went out and had “fun” which triggers extremely fresh, bad memories. While the other one...MC is like. Did I hook up with someone?? Whoopsies! Hm, I wonder how I did that. Oh but that Sirius guy was SO hot. Oh shit! I have a cat that’s missing! Gotta go. And then Jasper teases her but she just gets upset because she feels embarrassed about hooking up with someone. Neat. Also, what is with Voltage and their obsession with using “abscond”???

----

Are you feeling uncomfortable right now? A little horrified that Voltage would write a story like that, and romanticize it? Awesome! Me too! Let’s take a break here before moving on. Thankfully, the next parts won’t contain anything near as triggering as the first interlude and chapter 9.

(Next post currently in progress, will add link as soon as possible! This is taking much longer than I thought it would to write;;;)

#jasper lane #jasper court of darkness #court of darkness #court of darkness jasper

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