#AND THERE'S NO LIMIT TO HOW MUCH THEY LOVE EACH OTHER

[hyukascampfire]

𝑯EART 𝑊ORM ⸺ hueningkai ℘˒´ˎ˗

  ⨾𓍢ִ໋ ˒˒ 𝚑𝔢art𝚠𝔬rm

[𝑛]. a relationship or friendship that you can't get out of your head, which you thought had faded long ago but is still somehow alive and unfinished, like an abandoned campsite whose smoldering embers still have the power to start a forest fire.

⸺ listen to the playlist .ᐟ ‧˚

〝﹙ 📼 ﹚“I was just... wondering,” you say, blood roaring. "Well, Yeonjun wants me to come over to his place this weekend, and... I’ve never...” Sucking in a quick breath, you just spit it out to get it over with, “Would you be my first kiss, Kai?”  ˛ ､､

wc ➛ 17.9k

𝔭airings childhood bsf!kai x reader (lowkey soulmates?) ⤷ ft. asshole!yeonjun x reader

𝒢 ‎; smut ˒ angst ˒ some fantasy

𝔴arnings angst, family issues, fingering, jealousy (i’m sorry i just love ts), yeonjun really is an asshole, orgasm denial, thigh fucking, unprotected sex (they're stupid!), strength kink a lil bit, breeding kink, possessiveness, creampie, choking... i think that's all, lmk if i missed any

✎୭ ashlynn's note omg. this was such a fun palate cleanser to write. this wasn't supposed to be as big as it is, but it just kept getting bigger and bigger, and i got super into the story. this kai is SOOOO!! yeah. i’m so nervous posting this because i’ve only ever posted TSFAWC, but…. here you areee (^^;; this is not proofread, so if you see a mistake... give me a sec. i'll get to it. hehe

Though you fan your hand furiously over your face, the little breezes washing over your clammy skin are not enough. The air is thick and heavy with summer’s heat. So thick that you almost feel it each time you swallow. It’s better than just letting yourself melt away, though. The cushion at your back doesn’t help much. It holds your warmth and returns it to you the longer you sit slumped back into it. You suffer it though—you’ve gone too sluggish to move.  

You let a leg dangle over the arm of a chair, watching a hopeful moth dance in the light of the buzzing porch light overhead. It flutters frantically in it, making a grand fight to reach that false moonlight, only to drop away when it realizes that it’s being burnt. You watch it rinse and repeat, relentless and sure, for who knows how long. It’s no special moth—no luna moth or the ones with the pretty pink wings—but the light falls down on it and colors it a pleasant stardust silver.  

You delight in letting your conscious brain turn off to watch it. It lets you forget the sweltering under your skin, and also that Kai had drug you out here. His dad gives him shit when he plays inside, but it’s way too hot to be out here. Isn’t it supposed to cool off after the sun goes down? It doesn’t feel like it. The deep acoustics are drowned out each time a car whirrs by. Playing outside should be the best option, but you and Kai live right on a busy road.  

When the roar of some car going ten miles over the speed limit doesn’t obscure his playing, though, you admire the intricacy of it. His fingers work up and down the neck, jumping frets that you imagine would be impossible to anybody without those long fingers of his. You had always been a loud supporter of his playing, even way back when the most he could play were simple chords, but you became especially so when a few years back he put a guitar in your hands and tried teaching you. Even with his fingers guiding yours, it was quick to learn that the effortlessness with which Kai handles the instrument is hard earned.  

He practices on the acoustic guitar, but that’s not his domain. With houses just a dash across the street from each other, Kai had grown up at your home more than he had at his own. So vividly, you remember the stars in his eyes when he’d listen to your dad’s music. Metallica, The Smashing Pumpkins, Linkin Park, any of it. He had fallen in love with it a long time ago. Your whole life you knew that it was only a matter of time before he was in his own band, chasing his dreams with a boundless mind and an indelible vision of himself on stage. How had that time come so soon, though? You don’t know if the notebooks full of inky lyrics that live wherever he deems inspiration might hit him make you proud or nervous. He’s making good on his dazzling aspirations, and you? 

You speak finally into the air, cutting through heat waves and his music and the night. “Isn’t it weird that we’re not going back to school after this summer?” 

He doesn’t have to even stop playing to answer you. Playing comes to him as a second nature. “Kinda,” he answers, brown eyes flitting up to you. “But it’s not like you won’t be back to it in September. College is the same shit.” 

The leg you’d been dangling and bouncing pauses. That’s right; you’re supposed to be going to that college you’d chosen because it was only a three-hour drive away from here. You pluck at the seat’s threadbare fabric, and the moth, still there, becomes oh-so-interesting once again. When his playing stops, you drop your head back with a cushioned thud and a groan that you wrangle in your throat. 

“Why are you acting like that?” he says, voice gone sharp like accusation. He doesn’t even know the truth, but he’s known you too long.

Can’t you just keep secrets for yourself, sometimes?

Kai, arms clad in a well-loved hoodie even in this dreadful weather, lays the guitar down. You maintain your silence. “Seriously, what?” 

Some secrets have timers, though. This one could only last you until about September, or even August when he realizes that you’re not preparing to return to school. A controlled sigh from your chest isn’t enough to soothe the nerves that sparks. “Nothing.” 

“Secrets, huh?” Kai says. When you do finally look to him, black spikes of hair frame his eyes and the accusation in them. 

It’s a simple poke, but it gets under your skin as sharp as any thorn might. It’s not like you don’t keep secrets from him, and you’re sure he keeps some from you too. But those are the little kinds, the inconsequential ones—like I ate already when asked why you’re not eating or like Yeah, I’m fine when it’s been a bad day. You don’t hide this kind of stuff from each other. Usually, you’d run over to his place to tell him whatever’s bothering you. Why not, when he’s known even the worst details of your life for almost the entirety of it? You’ve been holding this one close to your chest since somewhere around the end of senior year, though. The longer you let it fester, the worse your nervousness snowballs. “C’mon, Kai. Let’s not do this. Can you keep playing?” 

He doesn’t like that, of course. But you watch recognition dawn over his chocolate brown eyes, helpless to stop it. “You’re not going,” he says. It’s not a question nor a suspicion, it’s a bone-dry fact.  

Well. There that goes. You want to tear every hair on your head right out. Why had you even thought you’d keep him in the dark about it? When he’s not out in some garage making music, you two are together. The conversation was going to stroll by at some point; this was only inevitable. His disappointment radiates off him in waves and blisters you. He hasn’t even said anything yet, but you know exactly what he thinks of it. It’s why you kept it from him in the first place.  

Your silence is enough confirmation for him. “Why?” he says. “I thought you were excited to move out.” 

Wincing, you nod slowly. You were. Even went through the whole application process, along with most other kids your age. Ultimately, you never went through with declaring a college. You don’t exactly know why, but somewhere weaseled down in the shadowy recesses of your soul, you know. Taking those steps, the massive and terrifying ones from adolescence into adulthood, meant agreeing that this form of your life was over. It meant that at some point, you’d be moving away from here to where living your days away in Kai’s room would not be a choice. Everybody has to do it eventually, you know that. Kai’s music gig could take off any day, too. He’s going to make it happen. And then what? All this stalling and wishing on just a bit more time would mean nothing, he’d be off and chasing that dream. As excited as you are for it to finally become reality for him, there’s a nasty bitterness that’s budded in your chest, infecting your person.  

Can’t things just stay like this? 

“I was,” you say. It comes out of your mouth heavy.  

“Then why aren’t you going?” he says. Crickets, never seen but always heard, sing their song into the night’s darkness. “You didn’t get rejected. You’re too smart for that.” 

An ache sits heavily somewhere near the center of your chest, maybe over your heart. All those good grades, nights spent bent over a desk and AP paperwork—you’re wasting it. You shake your head. “No... just...” It’s an effort to dress your thoughts in a way that might appease him. A quiet moment stretches with your thinking before you continue, “I don’t know what I want to do.” 

He doesn’t like that, the yellow wash of the overhead light dancing over his taut lips and hard eyes. “Don’t know what you want to do?” he says, bringing his legs up onto the seat to crisscross them. He wears his favorite jeans. They’re heel-bitten and baggy enough over his legs that he can wear them around the house without any bother. “You’ve wanted to be an artist your whole life. You know exactly what you want to do.” 

Your chest only seems to ache harder. When the both of you were only young and hopeful, you both had big dreams. Kai was going to be the face of a metal band, and you were going to be an artist. A painter, potter, sculptor, even doing animation for those big companies like Dreamworks and Disney. You wanted any of it, just as long as you were doing art. You’d even promised him that you’d do the cover art for his albums with interlocked pinkies and flushed, hopeful cheeks. That passion and love wasn’t gone from you, it blazed strong in your veins. This blaze wasn’t the kind that kept you warm and excited to push forward into life, though. It had morphed into something that scalded you when you got too close or started imagining yourself pursuing its call. It’s a taunting silvery glow, no longer a guiding north star. Taunting words of family members stamped down on that hope hard. When you were little, it was said lighthearted and in passing. The older you got, though, the more serious their faces became. They wouldn’t say it outright perhaps, but you hear what they think well enough. Art is a dead-end career.  

Shifting in your seat, you tell him, “I don’t know.” 

“What do you mean?” Kai says. “There are good colleges for that.” 

“I just... don’t know.” 

Shaking his head, he tells you, “But you love it.” 

You do. In its every form, you love creating. But loving it doesn’t mean that it’s right for you, or that you should trust your future in its hands. “I think I can do it in my own time,” you say, finally pushing yourself upright from the cushion. “Don’t wanna kill the passion by doing it for a living, you know?” 

He thinks on that for a moment. “If you love it, you should do it,” he says. 

An awful frustration bubbles in your chest. Kai has always had a clear life path, the steps ahead of him set in stone and waiting for him to follow in them. It’s hard for him to see why you might not want to do the same. There’s nothing that makes you as happy as the fact that he has it all figured out, that he knows just where he’s going and that he’s so incredible at it that he doesn’t have to worry about meeting the requirements, but your path seems obscured and untrodden. Punctuating a deep, resonant sigh, you say, “It’s not that easy, Kai.” 

“If you’re not doing that, then what are you going to do? Are you just going to settle for a nine-to-five?” he says full of accusation, the tapping on his knees gone still.  

A dry laugh, you say, “Maybe I’ll marry a super rich guy and just do my art for a living. No nine-to-five.” 

His face flashes. He’d always been a bit reserved, especially around others, but he bared his emotions freely around you. You hold them dearly to your chest and made sure to do your best to make good on that trust. He says, “You’re more than some guy’s housewife.” 

Cheeks radiating in the heat, you snort. “I know, dork. I’m a rockstar’s best friend. It’s my personal favorite achievement.”  

His face sours when you reach out and pinch hard at his cheek, but he doesn’t pull away or brush you off. The skin there is warmed and clammy. Really, the two of you should go meet the cool AC inside before you suffer heat stroke. But this moment feels so nice—your shoulders feel tons lighter without something to hide. If you had it your way, things would stay like this forever. Just the two of you, sat here like you have so many times before, just taking for granted the time you’ve got together.  

His mouth opens to banter, probably something about how he’s not a rockstar yet or to get you back for calling him a dork. Wingbeat and sterling dashes about your face send the image into a blur, though. You’re a quick mess of limbs and a whipping head, as if it’ll chase the thing away from you. 

“Seriously?” Kai says. You’d climbed halfway over him, elbows digging into him and knee doing a number on his thigh. “It’s a moth. You’re not scared of moths.” 

Lingering for a few moments later to ensure the flying thing was nowhere on you or around you, you hold back a laugh before you climb off him and fix your hair with undignified tucks behind your ears. “He was in my face,” you say around a laugh, because you know it was a bit too much. Nobody likes wings in their ears and spindly legs in their face, though, and you’re in no control of what you do when anything with six legs tries and get too friendly. Even moths.  

“You just wanted me to protect you,” he says. A sarcastic, shit-eating smile tugs at the corners of his mouth.  

“Oh,” you scoff, batting your eyelashes and clasping your hands together all saccharine-sweet. “Yes, Romeo, won’t you kill that bug for me? This girl’s heart just can’t take it!” 

Kai’s nose crinkles, and the playful light twists into a glare. “Nasty.” 

“That’s how you sounded,” you say. “I only reacted accordingly.” Laughing, you kick your legs out over his lap and sprawl back out. He takes the guitar back into his hands. 

As much as you want to escape the mugginess, you’ll survive it for just a little while longer—if only with the force of an indulgent heart. The eternal moments are those you allow to linger.  

⚝⭒ 

Some things, you forget when you’re older. Maybe it’s time’s hand, eroding memories down and stuffing more in the longer you live to experience them. But also maybe because they’re the sort of things you can’t say in the adult world without a laugh in the face and a look from down their noses.  

This memory is one of those forgotten things. It’s moth-bitten and dusty, something you one day folded up in a moving box and decided to never revisit. 

You’d been down at the creek. Kai and you had spent so many summer days there. It wasn’t too far from home, just past the filbert trees and into the shallow neck of the backwoods, but there you were out of sight and free to get up to nothing good. It was a wonder your mom ever let you do it. Kai’s dad didn’t care too much where he went or what he did, but your mom dug her claws in deep. You like to think that she imagined you two would have each other, if anything ever happened. 

Usually, you’d be there holding your jeans up from the stream and Kai would be letting his jeans go dark with it. The bite of water was nice as it washed over warm skin. Fun was a simple thing to find, then. You dug your fingers into the mudbanks and tossed stones way too big to be throwing at each other, just because you two remembered how much the adults hated it when you did. Then, you’d drag tired limbs home avoiding sweetgum tree spikes that had fallen to the ground and dug splinters out from your feet.  

This day, you had been in the blackberry bushes. It was maybe late July or early August, and they’d gotten heavy on their branches. You’d waited until the smell of them, summer-warmed, was sweet and cloying in the air to pick them. With buckets in your hands, you plucked only the fattest berries from their bunches. Your fingers were stained a delightful purple and perhaps a bit thorn raw, but you didn’t mind much then. You plucked for hours, and it was dusk before you could catch it. Dinner was no doubt waiting for you back home. 

“There’s a bunch over here,” Kai had said. He reached a long boyish arm, still awkward and lanky with puberty, up high for ripe bush. You finished off picking before climbing around thick branches sticking out to take a peek. A bunch, there was. 

When you went to drop a handful of them into your bucket, Kai hissed. He’d been snagged by a vicious looking branch, those ones as thick as a finger with thorns to match and you’d warn each other tongue-in-cheek to watch out for that one. He’d worn those ridiculous shorts that day, the ones that looked half pants half shorts with how long and baggy they were, and the claws of the bush had jumped at the opportunity. At first the scrapes were white, but then red blood crawled out and down his leg.  

“Kai,” you said, some parts chiding and some parts just wondering how he’d managed that. You surveyed his leg for a bit, and then determined that he should wash his leg off in the stream. He walked there strong, but of course you noticed the hobble beneath his acting. When you squatted down into the dry grass and cupped water to wash off his leg, you laughed. 

“What?” he had said, holding the shorts up. You covered your laugh with a hand, but it erupted past your palm. You remember the glare on his face very well.  

You still laughed. “You’re stupid,” you had told him. 

“I didn’t see it,” he said. “I tripped over it because it was sticking out.” 

That time when you brought your hands to catch some water, there was a twinkle in its surface. You didn’t notice it for a second. The creek moved fast and you could see a lot of things in its reflection. When it lingered, that’s when your brows furrowed. It seemed to twirl, dancing around like alive over the stones. 

The sound of Kai’s voice remains with you. “Hey,” he had said, strong to call your attention but also wavered with uncertainty. 

When you looked up, there was silver dust dancing around you. 

It was fluffy and whorling, fine silver stardust. It’d moved weightless in the air, as though it barely existed. In the center of it were a few moths. They seemed to be made of sterling powder just as the dust was, and they glowed against dusk’s backdrop. If your memory serves you right, there had been a sweet hymn of coos from them. They beckoned you. Summer’s heat felt lighter, and so did your chest. You wondered where they had wanted you to go. 

Almost afraid that if you spoke they might have fluttered away, you whispered soft and low to Kai. “What is that?” He was stood frozen there, pant leg still scrunched up in his fist. Stardust glowed soft in his brown eyes while he took it all in, you remember. It wasn’t a scared frozen. You weren’t scared, either—rather, it was as if that lightness had found its way into the core of your being and brushed over it with mending hands. 

He whispered back, “I don’t know.” How could he have known? It was absurd. 

Those whisps had beckoned you, flowing toward the deeper woods. The soft moths, their murmuring brushing up against your ears, seemed to wait for you to follow. You remember a pull, soft tendrils wrapping themselves around your heart and the yearning it planted there.  

But there was also this reluctance, a bone-deep answering that had told you: No. You’re not ready. 

“Kai, I wanna go,” you told him. 

You didn’t even need to tell him twice. Berry buckets forgotten; the journey home was a stranger one. When your dad asked why you returned from berry picking emptier handed than you had left the house, Kai and you only shared a look. You pair kept that evening at the creek hidden so well that it became more forgotten than shared secret.  

⚝⭒ 

Once, you had been the type of girl that loved being around family. Some of your favorite days of your life were spent in this living room, T.V. roaring over bouncing conversation. Some of those nights ended in rosy cheeks and laughs, and some ended with words thrown angry like fireworks. You never knew which you’d be getting, but you endured the fear of not knowing because it was a simple love—the basic kind built with biology into you the moment your infant skin touched your mother’s. You endured it because eventually, sleep washed away the bad taste left in your mouth and you forgave them quick, sometimes quicker than you ought to, and things would go on as if it hadn’t even happened. You endured it because you could handle its burden, if only to feel the warmth you feel when it’s a good day.  

Kai was always there—his dad was hardly home, so he found family in yours. When you were younger, you’d been embarrassed he was there for caustic, spitted words and intimate fights. Now, you’re just grateful for his shoulder.  

So, yes. Once, you had loved being around your family. But things feel tenser now, nights spent all together less frequent and when they do happen, they’re tainted by a strange air. You think that this strangeness is new, but an awful worry also makes you think that it’d always been there, that you only feel it now because you’ve grown into your adult mind. A hollow ache stakes its claim in your chest, declaring that it won’t leave until you find that youthful ignorance and joy once more. You think that it might stay there forever. 

Bare feet bounding down the stairs, you make a rare appearance downstairs. The cupboard is only half open to make way for a snack raid before your mom’s voice cuts through the air. You know quickly just by the look on her face that you should’ve stayed upstairs. 

“Hey,” she says, gathering laundry into a basket. “You’ve been applying to jobs?” 

With an anxious belly, you tell her, “Yeah. A few. They’re not really, like, ideal, but I sent applications.” You don’t remember when it got hard to look into your mother’s eyes, but you can’t bring yourself to do so now.  

“Not ideal?” she says. “It’s not like you can be picky. Mcdonalds or wherever, I don’t care, you’re going to need to get a job if you’re staying here.” 

“I know. I applied,” you reiterate around a mumble. You close the cabinets, not so interested in a snack anymore. “I just... I don’t know, ma. I don’t want to do that for a living, going between those sorts of jobs.” 

Face hard and abrasive against the truth you bare, she does that awful taunting smile that makes you feel small. Stupid. “You’re not going to college, so that’s what it’s gonna be. You can’t sit up there and draw for a living. You’ve gotta get into the real world, get some real experience.”  

There’s a burst of hurt in your chest, dazzling and gnawing. She’s getting closer to saying how she really feels about your dreams out loud every day. Your face burns and so do your eyes, knot thick in your throat. “Yeah, okay. Got it,” you say, nodding. You’re at the front door before you even know it, slipping on shoes and fighting the greatest internal battle to will back tears. She’d use those against you, no doubt about it. “I’m going to Kai’s,” you throw over your shoulder.  

Whatever she barks back at you, you’re glad you don’t hear. Bells on some old Christmas decoration hung on the door that had yet to be taken down, even into summer, jingle and wash it away for you. 

Kai’s brows shoot up when he opens the door to your face crumpling. You’d done so well at damming it up, but the wall cracks and the water crashes through once you see him. If it were anybody else, you’d feel icky and attention seeking, but you’d held Kai to your chest through gut-wrenching sobs as much as he’s done it for you. Without question, he takes you into his arms, warm hand running up and down your back. The warm soothing is so familiar. You melt right into it.  

He keeps you there for a long moment. Then, his chest rumbles as he tells you, “Come on.” The walk through the AC to his bedroom is nice. Having a house like Kai’s to come to where it can just be you is nice, too. You step around the mess of clothes and scattered belongings on his floor like you have a muscle-memory roadmap of his room. Boxsprings creak and hard mattress welcome you back home. His room is dark as always, a night-dweller you call him. The array of peeling band posters plastered over walls you two had painted blue some years ago, when it’d been his favorite color, don’t help to lighten it up. He keeps a low lamplight on.  

“She never listens to me,” you say, crying gone to occasional sniffles from your chest. You rest your cheek on your bent knee. 

“I know,” he says. “But at least she cares about you. Pays attention to you.” His voice is soft and deep and right next to you. Always right next to you, there for you even when you might not appreciate it as you should.  

His dad cares too little what he does, and yours care too much. The grass is always greener on the other side, you know it. Still, you hold a fantasy where you’re able to do teenager stuff. Where you’d allow yourself to do bad things, because you weren’t so intent on painting yourself with their will. You two hold eyes for a long moment, your twinkling ones caught in that steady brown. “I just want to get away. Be my own person.” Your words are muffled in the softness of your skin. 

“You had the chance to do it,” Kai says, hand playing with your fingers. “But you didn’t.” 

Holding your legs closer, you lick your lips. What do you say to that? Would it ever be the time to tell him that you did it because you think that your soul is pathetically intertwined with his, and that it might snuff your lifeforce out to even try pursuing life without him? Without this? How do you tell him that you’re so frozen and unwilling to pursue any sort of future because it means accepting that this chapter is over? You clutch childhood to your chest like a wild animal guarding scarce food; you refuse. You refuse to acknowledge its end.  

“Kai,” is all you say, trembled and thick. It’s not just your mother’s words that dig at you and tear to shreds the last bits of what dreaming you had left in you, but so many other reality checks too. This isn’t the first time you’ve heard those sorts of words, urging you forward. You can only dig your heel into the ground for so long before you’re swept away in time’s ruthless, endless moving.  

He understands. Lifting your face with warm fingers against your cheeks, he says, “Hey. How about we go get ice cream, or something?” 

Ice cream does sound nice. “Dairy Queen?” 

Smirk tugged over his mouth, he says, “Yes, Dairy Queen. A blizzard. C’mon, let’s go.” Sliding off the bed, he offers you an urging hand up. 

But you falter. “I don’t know if we can. She’s mad at me. I don’t think she’ll let me go.” 

“Let you go?” he says, eyes narrowed. “She doesn’t have to let you go. You’re an adult now, you go if you want to.” He offers his hand to you again. 

It’s so him, freely going wherever he ordain it. The bullheadedness is very him, as well. Always the devil on your shoulder, he was the root of any rebellious thing you’ve ever done. He could never understand your apprehension, or why getting in trouble was such an awful thing to you. “I have to ask to get money.” 

Brows pinching, he says, “You think I’m not gonna pay for you? You don’t need them to give you money, I’ll pay. I’ll take care of it.” He drags you up from the bed this time. “Live a little. Do you want to go?” 

It was never the punishments or the getting in trouble that you were scared of, though. Disappointment was a scarier word than grounded. Sneaking out and those sorts of things, it’s not like you had angel wings at your back and never considered them. It’s that you are deeply, utterly terrified of changing how they look at you. You begin to tell him, “I do, but—” 

He cuts you off, adamant. “Then do it. Let’s go. If you want to go, then go,” he says. “At some point, your life needs to become your own. It’s not sneaking out when you’re graduated and eighteen years old, it’s going wherever the hell you want. You’ve... You’re gonna end up stuck here, in this town, forever. You don’t deserve that.” 

That sounds like both the best and the worst thing you’ve ever heard. You take his hand.  

⚝⭒ 

Your frozen fingers nurse your ice cream. The cup itself is cold, but the Dairy Queen on your side of town is always thirty degrees below what it should be. It’d always been that way. Even way back when you two couldn’t drive, you’d get dropped off here to escape the melting weather and get a frozen treat with a handful of dollars. Each time, you’d start off sagging with the relief of summer’s weight off your shoulders and left the place shivering and sugar-mouthed.  

It’s really only you two in here. You crinkle your nose when he takes a spoonful. “Out of all the flavors...” 

Unbothered and no doubt expecting you to say it, he offers you a flat, “You get your flavor, I get mine.” He makes a point of taking an extra-long bite. His lips linger around the red plastic of the spoon and his brows rest high in silent challenge.  

The corners of your lips twitch up. “Hmm. Well. I just have a hard time believing that Oreo... or, like, brownie fudge, is right there, and you actually want M&M. I don’t get how M&M your favorite.” A familiar banter falls over your tongues. Your heart buzzes and your cheeks radiate. This is the first you’ve done this all summer, and it’ll be weaning off into fall soon. Any other summer, you would’ve been here on all the hottest days. You hate that Kai’s been so busy with his music; you hate that you can hear the resounding ticks of the clock counting down your time. You also hate that the stubborn depths of you still believe that if you freeze yourself here in stasis that the world will relent and stop along with you. 

You look over the sharp lines of Kai’s jawline as it feathers with his chewing, and the broadness of his shoulders where his jacket stretches around it, and the starkness of his collarbones against his chest and the bobbing of his adam’s apple when he swallows. No, time doesn’t stop. Some of him remains the same, though. In it, you see the boy that had love creeping up on you so long ago, with all its aching and all its hope. That freckle on the column of his neck, the bump in his nose leading down to the button tip that beckons your lips to steal a quick kiss.  

And, those lips. They’re as soft as ever around the discontented grimace he pulls. “M&M isn’t my favorite.” 

With a pursed mouth and patronizing brows arched over your eyes, you say, “Oh, huh. That’s funny, because if my memory serves me right, it’s the only flavor you’ve ordered for the past... six years.”  

Kai husks a laugh at that. “That’s because they haven’t had my favorite for years,” he tells you, scooping up the final bit and then pushing it off to the side. “It was a blizzard of the month that they discontinued. The blackberry cheesecake one. I made peace with it, though. It lives on in my heart.” He grins, arms crossed over his chest and his back settled into the booth seat to let you finish your cup.  

“Blackberry cheesecake,” you say, voice made taunting. Your nod is slow and taunting, too. “Well, forget M&Ms.Why would blackberry cheesecake be your favorite? Ever?” 

His face falters, a moment where something flows over his eyes as if reliving a memory in a few short seconds. Then, he shrugs. “It just is.” 

You roll your eyes. “Whatever,” you laugh. “Maybe my palate is unrefined.” Imagining the tarte fruit in purple swirls of ice cream, you’re taken back to a humid July day and the scent of churned mud.  

The strange memory unfolds itself quick. As if it were waiting for you to find wherever it’d hidden itself away. With a sharp gasp, you say, “Oh my god, Kai. Do you remember that one day? That weird stuff we saw down at the creek?” 

He nods. “Yeah. I was just thinking of that the other day, actually...” 

Less interested in finishing your cup now, you let the spoon rest. “What?” you say, the word peaking in the middle. That day hadn’t crossed your mind once since it’d happened. “How weird is that?” 

Scoffing a laugh, he says, “Weird, yeah. Just as strange as two kids high on fermented berries.” 

That draws a breathy laugh from you. “Is that what you think it was?” you ask him with knitted brows. The berries had been fresh, and you two had popped plenty into your mouth. But no doubt, you’d have spat them right back out if they were that ripe. “I mean, we saw the same thing.” 

“It happens to animals all the time. Squirrells, and stuff.” He lends you a gallic shrug. “We just freaked ourselves out. Like that one time you said you saw the shape of something in the dark and we freaked out. And it was clothes.”  

Well, hallucinating, in tandem, a glowing mist because you two by chance ate fermented berries is a very long shot. However nonchalant he acts about it, he seems to have thought long and hard about it. Enough to reason it away with some far cry explanation. Would you have even been able to get drunk off a handful of fermented berries? And, god, you’re really sure that you’d have noticed. That taste isn’t really one you just don’t notice.  

Whatever. Maybe you were just drunk idiots. That’s a lot easier to swallow, anyway. 

“Okay, but you saw that. Did it not look sinister?” you say. With your spoon back in your hand, you punctuate the sentence pointing it at him. “You freaked out with me, too.”  

An unsatisfied scowl on his lips, he steals a spoonful of your dessert. You don’t even swat him away—your phone buzzes in your pocket. 

Catching sight of who’s calling, you share a long look with Kai. It’s funny, how fast those three white letters scramble you up. When you hesitate to answer, Kai tells you, “Answer.” 

You hope she can’t tell you’re not at Kai’s by the refrigerators’ dull buzzing. It’s an effort to tussle that invasive worry back. You’re at Dairy Queen. Getting ice cream with the boy she’s known since childhood. She should clutch her hands and thank the sky that you’re here, not out in some nasty frat house like you could be. You thumb the green button. 

Her voice comes through the speaker crackled and asking you to run over to do a quick dish load. For a heartbeat you consider telling her that you will and then start rushing home. Instead, you fork out the truth through resistant lips. 

The hangup tone sits heavy on the air between you and Kai. Having listened to the whole thing on speaker, he says, “What was so hard about that? The world didn’t end, did it?” 

The plush of your lip takes a hard gnawing. No, it hadn’t. “I know she’s not going to get mad at me for just going here,” you say as you rest your elbows onto the table. “It’s that they’re supporting me right now. I still live under their roof. The more I go around and insist I can do whatever I want, they’ll start reminding me of it.” 

His face drawn, he lets his mouth twitch to one side. “Yeah,” he muses. “I never thought yours would be the type to kick you out.” 

Kai’s dad had started threating him with getting kicked out years ago, when he first started telling him that he wanted to do music. How many times had he let reluctant tears flow into your shoulder over it? Because music wasn’t a real job? Back then, you’d whispered in his ears that he’d become everything he’d dreamed of and more as your fingers carded through shaggy locks of hair.  

“I don’t know,” you say, humming it out noncommittally. “Is your dad still... y’know?” 

Nodding slowly, his eyes tell. “Yeah. Always.” 

“Because you’re taking the band seriously, now?” you ask.  

“Probably. I don’t give a shit what he thinks about it. If I’m just his goddamn problem, I’ll give him what he wants soon enough.” His eyes blaze with promise of it.  

It takes a bit out of you to not wince. Kai living anywhere but in the house across from yours is wrong. “I don’t think he necessarily wants that, Kai...” You take his hand in your icy ones, the urge to reach out to him thinly veiled under the guise of searching out warmth. He’d always run warmer than you—your personal heater. “It’s probably because he can see that you’re doing it for real. Not just saying it anymore.” 

“Yeah, well,” he spits, “I can’t fucking wait to see what he’ll say to me when I make it. That piece of shit, though, he wouldn’t even care. It’s not like he ever gave a shit about me enough for it to matter.” 

But, it matters to you, you want to tell him. You understand his need to throw it all in his face. Though. “Is that one label going to sign you? The one you were talking about?” 

His tongue darts out to wet dry lips. “They haven’t yet. I don’t know. But I don’t need that money to get out of here, I’ve been working on it.” 

“They will,” you say. “But, where would you go? Not too far?” You try and keep it light and playful, even as your heart aches. 

“Come with me,” he says. It’s painfully blunt, as if it were that simple. “Let’s go get and apartment; you and me.” 

“Kai...” you say. “You don’t have to drag me along because you feel bad.” 

The idea doesn’t sound half bad, though.  

“What?” His face tightens, as if somewhere under the surface your words had scraped somewhere tender. “You don’t have to stay here forever. Please. I want... I want you to come with me. You wouldn’t have to even tell them; just bring all your stuff and go together. We could do it together. Like we said we would.”  

“We were like, five. Everybody tries to pretend running away at five,” you deadpan. It’s a washy attempt at lightening things back up. 

Living with him, moving out together, should feel like everything you’ve ever wanted. And, maybe it is. But, he’s not asking you to live with him the way you want him to. Not in the way that your aching heart wishes he would.  

Kai doesn’t share the laugh you give him. “Yeah, okay,” he says, leaning into the table.  

Perhaps you should consider the potent disappointment he’s terribly masking with a face of indifference, though. 

⚝⭒ 

Slowly, the knots in your belly have worked themselves out. When Kai had dropped you off, they’d been so awful that you felt borderline sick. You sat the whole ride there in his old beat-up truck picking at your nails and rambling to him. He listened to you the whole time. And then when it was time to walk in, it had least felt a little easier to do so with his eyes on you, watching to make sure you made it in safely. 

You’d gotten a job. It’s not too bad, folding clothes out on display. It would be nice if they kept the lights a bit brighter, but you’ll get used it eventually, you hope. 

Most of your coworkers are around your age, but the one showing you the ropes... your heart had fluttered. 

“You’ll get it,” Yeonjun says. The smile you find on his lips once he straightens up from placing product on a display is smooth and smug. Sleek strands of black hair fall over his eyes. You fluster under his gaze.  

With arms crossed over your chest you say, “Yeah, probably.” You reach into the cardboard box for stock to practice on. 

“Where’d you work before this?” he asks, leaning back into a wall to watch you. Suddenly, you make sloppier work of your folding. “Your first retail job?” 

Some obnoxious pop song falls down from the speakers over the store. Nobody’s in here yet, thankfully; you’ve got some time to try and get a handle on everything. “No, this is my first job. I was so nervous walking in.” 

Interest catches in his eyes. It encourages that smooth smile on his lips further. “Don’t worry, sweetheart, I’ll show you the reins.” 

Your mind stalls. The suggestive, sly flicker to it—are you looking too much into it? Maybe that’s just how guys like Yeonjun act. It’s hard to pretend that you don’t see how he’s looking at you, though. It has your belly twisted up in fluttery knots. It’s not like you hadn’t had your share of his type. But, for some reason you’d rather not address, he’s got your heart thumping in your chest. 

He laughs at your fifth attempt to fold up the shirt. When he takes it from you to help, he smells of musk and vetiver. “You going to college near here?” he continues.  

“Nah, just doing this, I guess,” you answer, watching him fold it up to try and soak it up.  

“Really? Why not?” he hums, crossing his arms about his chest. “You seem like a smart girl.” 

Buffering, your blood buzzes in your veins and your cheeks burn. “Dunno. Not really sure what to do. Are you in college?” 

“Nah. I’m trying to figure things out, too.” 

The both of you pop your heads up when the bell rings to announce the arrival of a customer.  

“Yeah,” you say, eyeing him. He’s a few years older than you, no doubt, and yet his life hasn’t fallen apart because he’s not done anything grand yet.  

Time’s hand around your neck loosens. Just a little bit.  

⚝⭒ 

You sit crisscrossed on top of Kai’s bedsheets. He’d thrown the windows open because the AC died, but it’s no help. The hot air wafting about the room sits heavy on your skin. You’d dressed in as little material as possible to let it breathe, bare thighs clad in a pair of loose shorts and a thin tank top, but it’s still miserable. 

Perhaps you two should be going over to yours, but you haven’t had time alone with him for a few weeks now. You hate this busier life, where you struggle to make room for this. 

Your new job isn’t so awful, though. Especially with Yeonjun there. A bout of nerves flows up through your stomach. That reminds you. 

Sitting up a bit straighter, you consider not doing it. In fact, you really shouldn’t. But your mouth moves before you can put a stopper on it. 

“Hey, Kai,” you say. The thickness in your throat makes you believe that your heart’s jumped up into it, caught. God, what are you doing? The unsure waver in your words has you regretting. 

His eyes flicker up to yours. He hums out a, “Huh?” 

No, this is wrong. You mess with the thin cotton strap of your tank top where it’d slipped down. “Never mind,” you tell him, trying to shrug it off.  

That piques his interest. “No, what?” His brow pinches.  

You lick your lips and shake your head. “Nothing, never mind. Really.” 

His eyes search you from where he sits up against the wall. “Tell me,” he demands. 

Really, you shouldn’t have said it in the first place. It was a ridiculous idea. But now you know he’s not going to let it go. And, ridiculously, you say it. “I was just... wondering,” you say, blood roaring. "Well, Yeonjun wants me to come over to his place this weekend, and... I’ve never...” Sucking in a quick breath, you just spit it out to get it over with, “Would you be my first kiss, Kai?” 

Insects buzz outside as he looks at you, frozen in spot. You reject the urge to dart away or throw up. You’re honestly just as shaken as him. But really, who else could you trust with something like that? You don’t want Yeonjun to be disappointed if he kisses you, or to seem inexperienced to him. 

And, perhaps, the hopelessly in love part of you hopes to at least feel his lips on yours at least once. If you’re going to be alone forever in your longing, you just wish that you can have this. 

“What?” Kai says. He looks rattled.  

Of course, he’s shocked. You shift. “Forget I said that,” you tell him, unable to meet his gaze.  

String-roughened fingers wrap around your upper arm. “I didn’t say anything,” he says, voice strained and face less shock-fallen and more darkened. “But... I mean, you want me to teach you to kiss for some other guy.” He spits out the last bit as if bitter in his mouth.  

“You don’t have to do it,” you say. “I just... thought that I might ask you to do it. I don’t know, I’m sorry I said it. I’ll just wing it or something.” His room’s grown ten degrees hotter, if that was possible. Especially where you feel his eyes on your face.  

Almost imperceptibly, his hand tightens around you. He swallows hard. “You want to learn how to kiss?” he says. “Fine. I’ll teach you.” 

In a heart-stopping moment, your eyes snap to his. Brown and familiar, they hold you with an intensity that turns your limbs into jelly. The air is stifling. “What... do I do?” you ask when the silence becomes too heavy.  

A muscle feathers in his jaw, reflected in the low light of his room. It’s quick and so easy to miss, but it tells you everything you need to know about how this is making him feel. How much disbelief he’s in. “Come here,” he says, stilted around the absolute absurdity of it. He pats on his lap. 

You make a hesitant crawl across the bed toward him. It seems as though your elbows might buckle beneath your weight, but you make it despite the odds. A fog settles over your brain when you rest your hands on his shoulders and bring your legs to straddle his lap. 

But you shove it back; you want to live and breathe every last second of this. No matter how unbelievable or blistering it is.  

Breaths fan out over your face. It’s seizing your mind like undiluted liquor. “Where do I put my hands?” you ask him. It’s breathless, the air stolen right from your lungs though your mouths haven’t even touched.  

“There is fine,” he says. His words sound breathless, too. The weight of his touch on you as he runs his own up to support your back is unsure. “And then...” he says. It falls out on your mouth slowly, and then he’s taking your lips onto his. 

The walls melt away, sound does too. All that is real is the taste of his lips and how they move against you. Your lips start tentative, but you try his mouth movements yourself. It feels like a timid dance—it feels like deep, deep down, finally everything is right. That mist, thick and blinding, falls back over you. 

Something changes. Something in it, where you two meet, changes. He becomes hungry. Softly locked lips turn biting and nipping, shaky breaths exhaled slow through your nose. His hands on your back become surer, and one even ventures off to grab your chin. The other holds you to his chest, melded together despite the intense smoke and flame rolling off your bodies. You wonder if he can feel your heart beating a mess there. 

Reluctance paints you both when you pull back. You’re panting deep drinks of air. It’s hard to think; your mind’s run off and sits just out of reach. Licking your messy lips, stained with illicitness, you can only manage to brush your fingers against it to form words. “How... was that?” you say, searching his eyes. You find his pupils blown so wide that they consume the warm brown. You’re ready to jump out of your skin with that look pointed at you.  

Kai doesn’t answer, though. He slams your mouths back together as if starved by just the brief moment you’d parted for air. Nips on your bottom lip and emboldened hands—he moves like roaring water through a dam. A dam that he’d worked hard to fortify, and yet, at a crack it’s all falling down. Fingertips digging through the fabric of your shorts down to your soft hips, his chest rumbles. You feel it reflected in your core, electricity charging there and shooting up your spine and down your thighs. 

You kiss him for all the times you wish you would’ve, but didn’t. The slight rolls of your hips down onto him come easy. You love how it has him making a sound into your mouth and taking the fat beneath his fingers harder into his hands. He helps you. 

He drops his head into your neck. Your head swims for air and he has you shuddering with just the brushing of his nose against the column of your neck. The walls of his room spin around you. “Kai,” you whine, every bit of friction his jeans provide, even clothed as you are, just enough to rile you but not to give you what you need. 

“God,” he growls, thumbs hooking under your waistband. “You always fucking run around dressed in nothing,” he says, letting his fingers linger like a suggestion of undressing you. “Did you do it on purpose? Expect to make me crazy, knowing I couldn’t touch you?” 

And, in those words, it seems that he steals every last bit of breath from you. How often had you gone braless or worn something like this around him? Laid here, in his bed, like that? 

Grown tired of your fruitless grinding, he brings a hand down to support your lower back and says, “Turn around.” 

Though you explode with the prospect of what he might be intending to do or what’s next, if you’re really going to do this, you do so in a flash of eager limbs. His chest is solid against your back, you melt against the feeling of it. He’d become such a man lately, filled out, and you watched it happen. It was hard for your eyes not to catch on muscle-corded forearms while he picked at strings or to not appreciate the timbred rumble of his voice when you’d feel it come from his chest. How could it not do things to you? Now, he’s dragging your shorts down your legs and you’re in disbelief.  

“Fuck,” he breaths out. His fingers find your panties soaked through. “So, you’re the type to get dripping wet.” 

An embarrassed blush decorates your cheeks. Kai drags his index finger in circles around your clit through the fabric as if enamored with how much of a mess you’d made of it. Your hips twitch every time he rolls right over it. It’s strange how he’s got your body acting on its own volition with his touches. Even stranger that it’s your best friend doing it. “Sorry,” you tell him, wavering.  

He continues those terribly slow circles. “Sorry?” he says, chin on your shoulder. He’s got you wrapped up in him, with nowhere to go but to melt back into him and let his fingers work. Free hand on one of your inner thighs digging divots into the plushness there to hold it still, he tells you, “It’s nothing to be sorry about. It’s hot as fuck. You’re so excited for me to touch you, huh?” 

The words wreak havoc on you, feeding the flame that has your belly twisted up tight and the ignition point between your thighs pounding. To hear them coming from him, reserved Kai, has you digging your fingers into his forearm to prove that it’s real. You’d never have imagined him being so... filthy. You imagine him behind falsely nonchalant eyes, devouring you with a perverted mind all the times you’d spent innocently sitting together in this room.  

Your cheeks squish beneath his fingers as he takes your face and turns it to him. He wants to make sure you’re look at him as he asks you, “Do you want me to finger you?” 

Like a record, your brain skips. Between the blunt, lewd question and his hand on you, it’s in overload. How could ask something like that so simply? Stunned as you are, of course you want him to. You want him to do anything to you. You nod.  

Every last nerve and neuron in your system, just below the skin, cry out when his fingers slow down to nothing. “Hmm?” he says, ignoring the chasing of your hips and the opening of your thighs to invite him into paying your poor pussy the attention he’d ripped from it. He wants to hear you say it.  

About ten minutes ago, you lost your mind. It does not return to you now. “I want you to,” you say, chest beating in tandem with your cunt. 

“You want me to, right? Not some dumbass you met a week ago, huh?” he says. “Because you know that this is what it’s meant to be. Me, doing these things to you. Not some twenty-five-year-old piece of shit. He doesn’t deserve you, baby. Understand?” 

His fingers slider under your panties. Dumb brained and cognition gone muddled, you nod. All you can really think about is the moment his fingers slide over you. Fire licks up your lower belly and your insides as he brushes calloused finger tips finally right against your clit. 

Puffed breaths of a scoff raise goosebumps over your skin. “Teach you to kiss so that you can go over there and get his hands on you,” he says, middle two fingertips prodding at your entrance. “As if you were ever anybody’s but mine. You’d come crawling back to me, baby, because it was always meant to be us. He could never satisfy you.” 

His words might alarm you or have you asking questions if he hadn’t pushed his fingers into you and begun curling them with strong, pointed presses, pulling soft mewls and hums from you until he finds a spot that twists up your insides. Even through the palm you press over your mouth, your moans come out more like wavering grunts and croaks. Your thighs quiver and twitch, threatening to snap closed against your own will with each. Only your feet stay planted to the mattress. Like a cone of soft serve under the sun’s blistering attention, you melt down him. Just his frame keeps you upright. 

“Right there, huh?” he says. The smirk on his mouth filters his words into something taunting. “That’s where you like it.” It’s like he’s learning your body step by step, fulfilling all the questions he’d been forced to only guess at before this.  

“Uh-huh.” It comes out whiny and cracks in the middle, but you can’t find even an ounce of you to care right now. If this moment had been a long spiral, a fall from grace, down into a dark pit of forgotten inhibitions, you’ve just hit the bottom. Cheeks blazing cherry blossom pink and with your fingers curling into his pant leg, you don’t doubt that you are a picturesque mess. The kind of mess that’s beautiful because it’s dirty. Your teeth are not gentle on your plush bottom lip. It stings, tugged back and bitten and still a bit swollen with kisses. Perhaps you taste the tang of metal on it, but you pay it no mind. 

Kai redoubles his efforts. Now that he knows exactly how to play you, he’s fucking you on his fingers without mercy. The sounds coming from your cunt were wet, but now they’re different— nasty squelching. The only noises coupling with your pathetic keening. Forget anchoring yourself on his thigh, forget muffling your sounds. Instead, your hands fly to encircle his flexing forearm. Under your nails, angry red crescents dig into the muscle there. What had been a languid, building pleasure suddenly becomes everything. Your breaths run away from you, and you chase them frantically. Deep down in your core, the muscles spasm and rage against his fingers. “H—oh god,” you groan. Even the muscles in your thighs and tummy tighten up. 

“So whiny...” Kai mumbles, voice taut with the effort of eroding you down into pure, blinding-white pleasure. 

And then, in a swoop of mercy, your belly tightens. You hover here, on the precipice of something so consuming and voracious that your muscles and bones reject it, and yet your heart sings. Your eyes and cheeks and lungs and belly burn, the flame charring the edges of you in a beckon. You answer its call. Kai doesn’t mind the snapping of your legs shut around his arm, nor does your bucking or shaking deter him. He just holds you through it, arm like a metal bar around your waist. He’s everywhere, in this moment—the smell of him, leather and utterly familiar, his mouth dusting hot kisses over your skin, his fingers guiding you through orgasm. Where you’d gone silent in the initial crash of it, you devolve into mewls and grunts as you come down.  

He holds you even as you slump against him boneless. Afterglow simmers in your veins and has your brain all lethargic and lazy. Neither of you speak for a while, your pulse thumping a rhythm. His breaths rise and fall against you; it grounds you in this moment where you feel all spacey and gone. You become aware again of how disgustingly sweltering it is in his room, your skin sheened. 

That brainless bliss only lasts you for so long, though. When rational mind returns to you, no matter how you wish it wouldn’t, you’re hit in the chest with regret so hard it knocks the wind out of you. 

How will anything ever be the same after what you’d just done? Stricken still by the thought, you barely register him pulling his fingers out of you. After all your worrying about making sure no wedge comes between you two, look what you’ve gone and done. No; nothing ever will be the same again.  

⚝⭒ 

A couple of weeks ago, you ruined the one friendship you were supposed to have forever. It presses down heavy one you while you sit sprawled out on Yeonjun’s couch, his arm around your shoulder. His phone casts a glow over his features with all the lights out. 

It doesn’t smell like home. He, pressed against your side, doesn’t smell like home.  

Some stupid movie that he’d picked out, yet somehow you’ve ended up the only one still watching it, weaves a hum into the quiet of his apartment. Tangy hurt wells up in your throat. Even the moments when you and Kai would sit in mutual silence on your phones never felt like this. This is different.  

You haven’t seen Kai since that night. He’s been busy getting ready to move out, and you’ve been here most days. How fast all of it had changed. You wish you’d feel whiplashed, left empty, by the drifting that you’d been so terrified of. But you don’t. It’s just been you, locked on land, watching him being taken away by the ocean’s tide with no way to change its course. You tried and screamed to call him back, but now your voice has gone hoarse.  

And instead of watching him go, you choose to look elsewhere. It’s all you can do to protect yourself from the hurt. 

“Hey,” Yeonjun says, finally addressing you rather than whoever’s he’s got in his phone. “Did you bring anything to change into?”  

“I brought stuff to sleep in,” you say, eyeing him. You know that’s not why he’s asking. If it came down to it, you could just steal something from him and pull it on. He means going out clothes. Your jaw tightens. “But nothing nice. Why?” 

He stretches his arms behind his head in a flaunt of long arms and tanned muscle. Hours spent at the gym lent him those; you appreciate the look of it with a watering mouth. Kai had earned his build by hours spent outside with your dad, because his own could care less, helping him fix up cars and vehicles of all ridiculous sorts. You remember when Kai had first gotten his truck—junk on wheels, honestly—he’d spent so much of summer out there getting it running. And, well... the sun-kissed bronze of his skin and frame that came with it, you had no qualms with. 

But those memories only sit heavy in your chest as you’re sat here beside Yeonjun. You banish them elsewhere; you need to let him drift off. If you can’t have each other, and your feelings won’t permit just being friends, then you have to. You want him to do amazing things, and you fear that it’s your presence in his life that will interrupt that. As much as your feelings are real, they are selfish. You, your unsure direction and all your dead weight, should let him go. Because you love him. 

“The guys want to come over,” he tells you, pushing off from the couch. “You should probably into change into something less showy.” 

Less showy. Your mouth drops into a scoff of disbelief, looking down. A pair of shorts and a shirt, showy? You have to laugh, or else you’ll succumb to the strange embarrassment crawling at the back of your skull. What’s he trying to say? Is that what he thinks of you? “What’s that supposed to mean?” you say, face tilted up to him in a twist of distaste. “I’m wearing something comfy.” 

He shrugs, hands shoved into the pockets of his black sweats. “Don’t want to give them the wrong idea about you, that’s all, baby. They’re guys; I just want to protect you.” 

“No,” you say, the word falling out in a barked laugh. “Why would you even be bringing over dudes that you think will look at me like that? Why are you even friends with people that you think are gonna make moves on your girlfriend?” He holds a hand out to you, but your hands stay right where they are: crossed solidly over your chest. 

Throwing that hand up in audacious exasperation, he gives you a look that makes you feel small and petulant—like you’re throwing an overblown fit. And, maybe you are. You should probably just do it; him seeing you as some overbearing or high maintenance girl has that embarrassment flaring like wildfire that’s found dry brush. “C’mon, baby,” he says, a lazy smile on his mouth that gets under your skin. “Let’s just have an easy night. Don’t make it a big deal.” 

Let’s just have an easy night. As if you’re the one ruining the night. Something snarky tries to seize your tongue, but you hold it down. “I thought it would be just us. We wanted to watch the movie together, Yeonjun. Can’t you wait to hang out with your friends? Let’s enjoy our time together; you’ve got your shift tomorrow.” 

“My fucking god,” he groans, running a hand through his hair furiously. “You’re needy, you know that? The neediest I’ve ever had to put up with. I don’t put up with needy, baby. Can’t you just chill out a little? My last didn’t mind when I’d have friends over.” 

Your eyes burn. Your cheeks burn. He’d been with plenty of other girls before you; that, you’re well aware of. It’s been a corrosive source of self-doubt for you. You don’t want that title: the neediest he’s ever had. Don’t want him to think of you as some prude that won’t let him have fun. Just... hearing him bring up the other girls he’d been with before you stings and leaves welts no different from a slap in the face. Feelings of inadequacy shackle you and have you saying, “Fine. I’m gonna borrow some of your clothes.” 

Heavy resentment blooms on your skin where he bends down and presses kisses to your cheek, and then mouth, and then down your neck. “Thank you, baby.” 

And, where those ugly, wilted flowers of it bloom, you hear echoes of something. Something that tells you that Kai wouldn’t treat you like this. But you’ve made your bed, decided to do it yourself, and now you’ve got to lay on it. 

⚝⭒ 

The frat parties are the worst kind of social outing that Yeonjun insists upon. The smaller kinds, more intimate gathering with just his closer friends, you tolerate much easier. You’re not fond of the circles he chooses. Breathing in thick, smoked-out air surrounded by alcohol-coated breaths is not your type of fun night. Somehow, you end up doing that more than date nights. But that’s better than being here. The base rumbles up through your feet and makes your stomach sick, and it reeks of grinding bodies and body odor, and condensation coats your fingers from the red solo cup as full as when you’d first gotten it. 

But, still, you come along. Not every time, but when you don’t, you lay in his bed sickening yourself with images of what he might be doing here. How pathetic is it to attend parties with your boyfriend because you fear that otherwise, he might stick his tongue down the throats of other girls? 

You’re looking for him right now, awkward and left alone. He’d promised to stick around; you had begged him to. That was pathetic, too. You know that you put up with too much. If he loved you, or honestly even liked you, you two would be in the thick of the throngs dancing or off somewhere talking with others. Together. The frantic skimming and weeding of your eyes through the blur of faces is not right. That’s not how he should make you feel. It’s not how Kai would make you feel. 

Well, Kai would never have you here in the first place. 

Venturing out from your little corner, you sift between the bodies of people have a hell of a lot better time than you. Drunken, some you bounce off of like bumper carts. You press your palm over the round face of your cup to spare the floor from spillage threatening to pour over the lip. It’s not like a splash from yours would matter much, though. The linoleum has already been made a fetor mess of dirt off shoes and the sticky sugar of liquor. Your shoes peel from it as you walk. God, what would your parents think of you being here? 

You peek around corners and eye big groups. He’s not in the kitchen when you look there, either. Your stomach feels sick in a knowing way—a gut feeling that doesn’t justify anger or tears just yet, but you know. Right in the center of your chest, you know. 

It’s in some room that you find him. Sat on the floor along with a few faces you don’t know, he pulls from his bottle. And on his shoulder, he lets a girl with shining curls and pink cheeks rest her head. At your busting in on the intimate gathering, Yeonjun’s eyes slide to you. Recognition flashes over them and wars with bleary drunkenness. 

“Hey, baby,” he says. Their gazes all fall on you, but you can hardly see them through blurry eyes. 

The girl lifts her head from his shoulder. She’d caught the memo. 

“I think I’m gonna go.” You make it sound resigned, try to not let them see your shame, but your voice betrays you and crackles. Maybe it’s better to pretend it doesn’t feel like you’ve just been kicked in the stomach and left to reel against the force, but you can’t. You’re nowhere near shocked, nowhere near blindsided, but still you hurt. 

He follows you down the hall. “What’s your problem?” he says, the few, plain words mending and waving into a slurring. 

You’ve got one goal: get to the front door, away from the shitty music and him. His words, sharpened, fall off your skin despite his efforts. What good would fighting do you, anyway? It was always going to end up this way. This is just who he is, and he doesn’t give two shits enough about you to want to change that. 

“Baby, seriously? That made you this mad? I didn’t even fucking do anything. Stop being insecure,” he says. At the gritting of your teeth, he sees an opportunity and pounces on it. “You don’t need to be jealous. I don’t do jealous shit. We can dance, or something. Shit, I don’t know what you want! Just stop throwing a fit.” 

Didn’t do anything? You have to laugh. Maybe you didn’t walk in on him fucking someone else, but that’s not what this is about. Not even a little bit. You’ve checked out, and the fact that he thinks he can make you believe that it’s your fault this time only drives the killing stake in harder. 

Maybe you’re bitter. It claws at your insides—turns your face hot and screams in your face that you’ve been used. But beside it sits a sadness. Not the slow kind, but the quick sadness of hurt. Why hadn’t you been good enough for him to love you? To like you? You’d left behind Kai and rested your new life on Yeonjun’s shoulders. You’d wanted so badly for his approval, or for him to want you. You did your best to try and make this work out because you needed it to. You needed so desperately proof that you could fall in love with somebody else. But your best was not what Yeonjun was interested in.  

Pins and needles prick your skin as you step outside, like jumping into an ice bath. It shocks you out of dizziness. Words surge up and out in a flash flood like hard reality. You spin on him. “Jealous?” you say, choking out a scathing laugh. “The last thing I’d ever let myself suffer over you is jealousy. Get over yourself. I’m going, stay here if you want. I don’t care.” 

“How are you gonna do that, huh?” he says. The flickering yellow of the porchlight paints his features. The shadow of something fluttering around it cuts dark spots in the light, and then a small little moth comes down and jumps around in his face. He waves it off. “Gonna have bitch boy come pick you up? You can’t leech off him forever; he’s gonna get sick of picking up another man’s girlfriend.” It seems like you walking in on that had sobered him up, but his breath still curls out onto your face with the reek of alcohol. “It’s not a big deal. You’re making this a bigger deal than it has to be. Do you not trust me?”  

“You are such a piece of shit,” you grit out. “I don’t know what I was thinking. Ever. I don’t know how I let this go on for so long.” You don’t like him having Kai in his mouth, don’t like him trying to act like you’re conflating things, and especially don’t like that face he’s making. As if you’re acting crazy and overblown. “No, I don’t trust you. You didn’t fuck her, but come on, Yeonjun. Seriously? You think I’m stupid, and I’m sick of it. You thought this would be easy because I didn’t have the experience you have, but I’m sorry. I don’t like being walked over.” 

“If you’re gonna be so goddamn jealous, then maybe we aren’t gonna work,” he says. 

That moth, floating light in the air, is right back in his face. Yeonjun takes two hands and smashes it between a clap of his hands. He shakes its flattened, broken body off his hand. Looking down at it laying there on top of dirt-caked concrete, you get this... feeling. A tickling around your person.  

“See if I care,” you snap, throat aching against the onslaught of emotion and held back tears.  

⚝⭒ 

Rivulets of raindrops dilute the tears on your cheeks. Your hair plasters to your face and your clothes to your body.  

For a week, you’d went about it all as if it hadn’t happened. And then you came here.  

It’d not been this rainy when you first got down to the creek—just a gentle trickle, really. You hadn’t been crying then, either. But, watching the water work at babbling over stone, you let yourself feel it. Here, where you’d had so many good memories. You’ve gone and tainted it, now. But for whatever reason, you’d just wanted to be here. Arms curled around yourself and fingers digging into drenched sleeves, you don’t wipe away the tears or cover the sounds of your crying. You let the stream hear it; it’ll sweep it right up and down the way. Somewhere far off, where you don’t have to feel it anymore. 

You realize that, usually, you’d be over at Kai’s right now. The fact that his room was not the first place you thought you could go to anymore is a punch to the gut. You drop your face into your hands and cry harder. Really, you’ve got to stop doing that to yourself. Thinking of sad things—putting your hurt under the microscope to see it closer. It’d be easier to just fold it up and tell yourself that it’ll pass, and that relationships end all the time. 

It’s not him that you cry over. Well, maybe some of it is. Rather, it’s that you have absolutely no idea where you’re going. Where you are. Finally, you’d built yourself a raft to get off the shore and go out to sea, because that’s what you’re supposed to do, and it’s breaking apart right beneath you. And, stranded and alone in the water, you’ve got no way to get back to shore to build yourself another raft. You’re stranded, and the scariest bit is that you’re doing it all alone. You weren’t supposed to do this alone. You two made promises back then. 

You suppose that a promise is one of those things you were supposed to leave faith in back on shore. 

The raindrops are heavy over you. The fall of it roars against the ground, a torrent downpour. It’s not coupled with whipping wind or flashes of lightning—just straight, still falling. It’s a somber feeling no different from the gnawing in your chest. 

Like chimes, there’s a distant, gentle sound. Maybe water falling over creek rock, but it’s more like suggestion. A sweet sound that you shouldn’t even be able to hear over the rest of it, it’s as if it’s right in your ear. A whisper.  

You fix your blurry eyes with a wet sleeve. Rain falls right back into its place, but you see it: a silvery, whimsy haze. And the moths. They jump and call you, this time. Their glow bounces off the rainy mist against the grey of night’s arrival. Then, all you can hear is the whispering. Where you stand frozen, your feet beg to move. To follow them. 

So you do. 

Their entourage of moondust trails them where they go, wrapping you up and weaving between raindrop and space. You don’t worry where they’ll take you, or even try to wrap your head around this happening again. You just follow, mind glossed over and entranced with how beautiful it is. When you’d seen them before, it’d made you uneasy. Mostly because it looked so unearthly and unbelievable. But this time you just follow. 

A far-off voice, one oh-so-familiar, peaks through the haze. It’s not enough to stop you, but then you hear it again, louder and closer. 

You blink a few times. Once to break away the fog, and then twice to focus your eyes on Kai stood in front of you. His hair lays in wet spikes over his eyes and beads of rain trace the planes of his face. He’s as soaked as you. 

“Kai?” you say. Looking around you, you’ve ended up somewhere in the field between your houses and the creek. But you’ve got no recollection of walking here. Whatever that mist is, sentient or not, had swept you here.  

His voice is strained, but you appreciate hearing it. “Break up with him,” he tells you. 

In his eyes, as you search them, there’s stardust glowing like reflection. Your face twists up. “What?” you say, breath a puff of smoke ahead of you. Summer had come and gotten away from you so fast, and now it’s gone all cold again. 

“Break up with him,” he echos, face solemn. He looks ruffled. 

“Why?” you ask, “And why are you out here?” 

“Because I’m moving out today, and I think I deserve to at least see you before I go.” His eyes look over you. “And... your dad said you went down to the creek.” 

He’s moving out today, and you had no idea. And really, it’s your fault. You’d driven that wedge between the two of you. “I did break up with him.” 

Downpour fills his quiet for a few moments, his face swirling with emotion like the clouds above you. He nods. “Good.” 

There are a few more long minutes between you; just you two searching each other's faces, antsy to say so much that it bunches up in your chests and stalls. It’s what a summer of longing does to you. Even with Yeonjun, even trying to slowly chip away the stitching that had connected the two of you at the hip, you were helpless to stop the gnawing of the love you bear for him. Even just seeing him now, you feel those threads mending back up. God, why does it have to be so hard? 

He just looks at you. For a few beats, he just looks at you. There are so many questions in his eyes. They flit across and turn over, but all he settles on is, “Why?” 

There’s so much you want to tell him. Words pile up to the top, some threatening to spill over. But you know that if you tell him some of it, just to make up for all the time you’d missed out on together, it’ll all come crashing out. And you don’t think you want him to know just how much you accepted, the way you let yourself get treated. So, you shake your head and say, “It doesn’t matter.” 

Kai looks like he wants to push that issue, but whatever look he finds on your face deters him. “Come with me,” he pleads. “I want you to come with me.” 

Your throat tightens. Curling your arms around yourself harder, the rain only coming down on you harder, you say, “Kai, I want to. I want to. I just... I don’t want to freeload off you, because you’re doing great things, and I’m just...” Your tongue darts out to wet your lips, but they’re already as soaked as the rest of you. “I’m just going nowhere. And I don’t want to be a burden, or ever be the reason that you can’t do what you dream of. If staying here means that you become everything that you’re destined to do, then I’m happy with that, Kai. I am.” 

He shakes his head, stumbling toward you. “No, no you don’t get it,” he says, frantically taking your shoulders into big hands. Under his touch, every taut muscle goes slack. You melt. “You don’t get it. You are the music. Every single song is about you. Every single fucking song is about you. I want you to come with me, please. I love you, I have always loved you, and I will always love you, and I thought you’d loved me too, and I don’t want to do this alone. I can’t do it alone.” 

He loves you. Kai loves you. The enormity of it rumbles the ground where you stand on legs you fear might just give in. You flex your fingers to combat the tears pricking your eyes. It doesn’t work; they brim and well up, spilling down over your cheeks. “What?” you say, voice softly breaking. “Kai, I didn’t...” 

“And just when I thought I finally had you, you left me,” he says, throwing a hand up beside him in a big gesture. “You left me! I woke up thinking you’d be there, and that maybe you loved me too, and you had left me. And then you threw me away for some piece of shit, and you stopped coming around.” His chest heaves for breaths. 

Your face contorts. That night, the one where you two had slipped up, you’d fallen asleep curled up against his chest on undiluted contentment. When you woke up, you had panicked. You thought he’d wake up and pretend it hadn’t happened, or he’d be uncomfortable, or even be disgusted and regretting. You couldn’t handle that, so you slipped out before he woke up. It’d been an attempt to protect your tender heart, but looking at the twitching of his lip now, you begin to think it’s the most selfish thing you’ve ever done. He thinks you used him and left him. Your stomach twists. Voice thick, you say, “I’m sorry. I’m sorry I left you, Kai. I thought you didn’t... I thought you didn’t see me that way. I was scared. I’m sorry I hurt you.” 

Brows knitted together, he says, “Thought I didn’t love you?” His hand cups your cheek, warm against the soft frozen skin he finds there. “I’ve... I’ve dreamed of you almost every night of my life. In my sleep, I see you, and you’re happy and glowing, and that damn... mist is all around you. I couldn’t get away from you even in my sleep.” 

Darting between his eyes, soft and reflecting your face back to you, it’s hard to breathe. Kai’s dreamt of you; he’s as sickly in love with you as you are him. Thunder claps, and the ground shakes, and the heavens open up above you, the trumpets belt, and you two are in love. Somewhere deep in your center, you feel it—your soul nodding yes. 

The mist. You know exactly what he’s talking about. “I saw it. That stuff, those moths. The stuff we saw back then.” 

“I did too,” he says, wet spikes of hair bouncing with a nod. “Not that long ago. It was the first time I saw it out of a dream since that day.” 

Back then, you two had only budding, innocent love for each other. Things hadn’t become mangled and lost to confused hearts or expectations. When they’d appeared to you, you hadn’t needed it. This time, you’d followed it. And it had led you here—somehow had led you right to the very spot you needed to so that every last piece might fall into place. For this moment to happen. You know why it did. 

“I’ll go with you, Kai. I’ll go wherever you go; I love you. I’ve loved you since forever,” you say, each and every word massive and lovely on your tongue. “I’m sorry I didn’t say it earlier.” 

So unlike the last times your mouth had met, he brings his mouth to yours with a dazzling clarity. No longer is it confused kisses; he locks his lips against yours with the urgency of so many years being unable to. Kai’s hands cradle your wet cheeks, hold you so tenderly into his kiss. His touch grounds you, makes the moment real. You melt into him—your fingers curled into his shirt as if holding him there so that he won’t disappear like something of an incorporeal dream. He sighs through his nose, kissing you harder. Even if it all were fake and this was nothing more than a feverish figment of your imagination, you think you could die happy just knowing this once. 

But it is utterly real, and utterly yours. You kiss him harder, too. 

When your lungs start to burn and plead for breath, you two pull away from each other. Your eyes flutter open to capture his. Warm and brown and the same ones you’ve stared into so many times before, but not like this, you sink into them. He runs his thumb over your cheek as he sinks into yours. His tongue darts out to lick lips painted with you. In the inches between you, space no longer feels heavy or charged with grievances. Every last unsaid thing had been answered. 

“I have my stuff up in the truck,” he says, breaths soft. Brown eyes dart around your face. “I’ll help you add your stuff to it.” 

You shudder out a breath. Add your stuff to it. A nervous energy settles down over you, but it doesn’t seem so bad if you’re doing it with him. Together.  

“Okay,” you whisper, a balmy secret just like the ones you used to share in small, giggly voices so many years ago. “Okay.” 

⚝⭒ 

Shivers seize you like jittering bones, all wrapped up in a blanket. The velour cushion seats beneath you have soaked up water and become damp, but Kai’s got the heater blasting. You wind around back roads, headlights illuminating the way ahead of you. Stray droplets whip in them, but nothing much. Isn’t it funny how the rain had just stopped like that? That’s just how the weather is, out here. You wonder how the weather might act wherever you’re headed. 

Your teeth chatter as if your jaw had its own will. The two of you had the windows down thinking that the wind might dry you off, but all it’s done is lap at your bitten cheeks. You reach down for the handle to crank it up. You’ve got a long drive ahead of you—either you’ll eventually dry off, or you can pull off at a rest area to change in a bathroom. The wet clothes are really not helping. 

With an arm up on the steering wheel, Kai turns his attention on you. You know that smile. “Cold?” he asks, eyes darting between your face and the road. With the hand he’s not got working the steering wheel, he runs fingers over your thigh. Soft, gentle massages, yes. The number it does on your core is absurd. Each mindless digging into your thighs and brush of his thumb, sparks sputter there. You’ve sat here, right in his passenger seat, so many times before. Day trips up to the lake, the one he’d joined your family camping at for so many summers, all the times he’d driven you to school in this truck, and even just a quick run down to a convenience store for a late-night snack. You’d deemed it your seat. But never once had you sat in it like this. Your heart does a flip. All those times you’d wish he’d reach over and do just this—a small gesture that would’ve been so big then. And it’s your reality, now.  

“Freezing,” you say. A brush of his fingers nearer the apex of your thighs sends you pressing them together and shifting in your seat. “But not everybody runs as hot as you, though, so.” 

His eyes catch the movement in just the split second he looked over to you. “Huh,” he says. He turns to look at you, his gaze flickering with something anew. Something that you’d only ever seen once before. “Is that it?” 

It’s hard to swallow. His fingers brush higher, and higher, feather-dustings of calloused fingertips that sends tingles shooting up your spine at the slightest suggestion of where he’s headed. “Yes,” you say, feigning indignance to cover the shiver that threatens to overtake you. When his fingertips dance at the waistband of your bottoms, it does so anyway. “Kai,” you say, blood hot in your veins. “You’re...driving.” 

His eyebrows pinch into a taunting furrow. “I am,” he says, nodding. “Don’t worry about it, baby. I’ve got us.” 

And he does; fingers slipping under the band of both your bottoms and your panties, he doesn’t even tear his eyes off the road. He’d driven these roads so much, you think he might be able to do it asleep. Even drawing a mewl from you with a brush over your clit, he doesn’t look away more than a quick glimpse at your pinkened cheeks. 

Two fingers dragging up your folds, right over the source of the mess. “You get excited so easily, huh?” he hums. “You like it when I play with you.” 

When he presses those fingers at your entrance, you can’t help but be taken back to that night. It echoes and reverberates through you. Long fingers, strong and punctual brushes against the sweet spot—he was criminally good with his fingers. Playing guitar did more for him than just music. He seemed to know exactly how to utilize those roughened fingers and trained flicks. Your muscles flicker as he abandons your hole for more brushes at your bud.  

Those teasing, sly touches turn to something more serious. His fingers roll over your clit, slow but enough to have you sighing and rolling your hips against the seat belt. But last time had gone just like this, him touching you and receiving nothing. He should feel good, too. “Shouldn’t you pull over?” you sigh, muscles taut. Your breaths come out shuddering and half-controlled, interrupted by the tightness that each delicious swirl provokes. The door takes the brunt of your grip, white-knuckling the interior. 

He laughs, a husky sound that is tinder to fire. He knows what you mean. “Maybe,” he says. “But I think I’m enjoying this plenty. I think I want to see you cum on my fingers again.” 

Fingers pinching and flicking faster, you grow breathy and whiny, hips rolling against the seatbelt and back into the seat. Your muscles, all the way down your thighs and deep in your belly, jump and twitch each time his fingers run over your clit in just the right spot—that tender spot that’s so good that it teeters on overwhelming. The kind that makes you hiss and then want more. “Shit, Kai,” you whine. “Right—there, keep going."  

He doesn’t answer with any teasing words. No, he just doubles down right at that angle and pressure, leaned back into his seat and driving as if he wasn’t fingers-deep in your panties right now. His sculpted profile at total ease—it does something for you. A delicious tightness curls its fingers over your center, promising a sugary ecstasy that you can’t help but chase. Bucking into his hands as best you can, you go quiet. Right there—right there, you feel it. The cusp. Your fingers brush over it, clenching around nothing and squeezing your thighs tight around him. Every last drop of blood in your body reaches for it, singing and dancing through your veins and making you dizzy. 

And then he stops. Your mouth drops open, whiplashed and helpless to its slipping away from you. You whittle your gaze into something sharp and turn to him. “What—why?” you complain. The tide slips further and further and further back, but you still taste sea salt on your tongue. Frustration sets in its place as you feel it go. Seriously, you’d been right there. “You’re so mean.” 

He slows and then with the clicking of the turn signal, he’s off the road and pulling the truck into park on a little secluded side road. Where the headlines pierce the pitch black, nothing but gravel and field surrounds you. He doesn’t kill the engine, instead pulling his hand free from you. 

Your heart, still stuttering with your lost orgasm, kicks back to life as he smears your slick over your mouth, dragging it over your lips and then taking his thumb to run it right over the plush of your mouth. “Am I?” he says, fingers taking your chin to meet your eyes with his. Endless hunger, pupils so blown that his eyes look black, pins you. “I don’t think you’ve seen mean yet, baby.” 

Darting your tongue out to clean your lips, you look at him through your eyelashes. “Show it to me, then.” 

Something dark passes over his face. It has your skeleton jumping out of your body. Then, he says, “Is that what you want? You want mean?” 

Brain gone to mush that can only really think about him touching you, a slow nod is all you can manage. 

The engine’s hum prevails for some long, thick seconds. And then, he tilts his head in a gesture. “Get in the back.” 

Holy shit. You want to sit there frozen in an overwhelming sort of excitement, but his seatbelt clicks undone and you’re set into motion. In a flurry of giggles and clumsy limbs, you climb up over the center console and into the backseat. He slips out of the front seat, not bothering to even kill the engine. 

The door beside you opens in a swirl of cold wind. In nothing more than a blink, a strong hand has both your wrists pinned to the cushions and your back flush against it. Nose-to-nose, his breath hot over your face. “I’ve got plenty of ideas as to how I can warm you up.” 

You appreciate each other’s faces for a beat more, you looking up at him big-eyed and waiting. Kai breaks the moment to attack your neck in a procession of bites and kisses. Your mouth falls into a silent sound. 

“You know,” he says, free hand working your pants off. His eyes are trained on you, though. “I thought about doing this to you all summer. Touching you again.” He moves on to your top, pushing the fabric up until your chest is freed, clad in soft cotton. He eats the sight up. You want to reach down and cup the back of his head or feel his hair between your fingers as he presses his mouth against the soft beginning of your cleavage, but he’s got your wrists firmly planted. So much so, that you wonder exactly how he’s got you so secure with just one hand. Kai is strong, but maybe you hadn’t seen just how strong. Your skin aches under the purple bites he decorates you in. The sight of him—face in your chest and marking you up so lazily—has your teeth abusing your bottom lip. Whatever sounds you might make otherwise would be embarrassing. Kai lifts his eyes to you. “And I think you thought of me, too. Didn’t you?” 

“Oh, god, yes,” you say, writhing beneath him. He’s going so slow. You want him all over you. “So much.” 

He likes that. He takes your pebbled nipple into his mouth through the fabric. Soft grazes of teeth and sucks, you’re burning all over. When he pulls back, he’s left you dark wet patches when the bra had only just dried against your body heat. “Good,” he rasps, taking his big hands demanding and hungry over your torso. They swallow your frame up, soothing skin but lighting it aflame all the same. “Good girl.” 

You never thought just words could unravel you, but those did the job. Not a gasp, nor a sucking in of breath—no, you go silent and brainless, fumbling for rational thought. 

The dropping of your jaw has Kai delighted. “You’re so pretty,” he says. In a swift and powerful hoist, he’s tugging you down the cushions toward him with greedy fingers. He’s got your thighs pressed up to your chest. You’re bent right in half. 

Out of breath, you huff out, “You too.” 

A quick laugh falls from his mouth, lips pulled into a smug tilt. He nips at your calf up by his face. “So sweet, it almost makes me feel bad for what I’m about to do to you.” Reaching down for your panties, he pulls back on the suffocating press for only enough time to drag them up your legs. Those get discarded somewhere on the floor. Who cares about that right now, though? All you can register is the metallic clinking of his belt being undone. It’s got your nervous system twisting up. 

And, those words. Electricity shoots bolts of pure, sizzling revery into your core. What I’m about to do to you. You imagine a great deal of things that he might mean, but still, you think that none could hold a candle against the promise his voice held in saying it. 

Kai presses his body to your thighs and hooks your calves over his shoulders, and it all becomes real. The press of his heavy cock to your folds, the digging of his fingers into your outer thighs, his pretty eyes sparkling with something feral. As real as it gets—more real than anything you’ve ever felt in the entirety of your life. Your hands find perch flattened to his broad chest. 

The position leaving you two no option but to look right into each other, he holds your gaze and begins slow drags of his hot length up and down your slit. Tantalizing, awful, awful drags. When his tip nudges your eager clit, you jolt. And then he does it again. And again. 

“Kai,” you mewl. A press against your hole has you hopeful, and he lingers there for a moment, but doesn’t give it to you. Can’t he just fuck you? You’ve never been more pitifully in need of something in your life. 

“Shh.” His ruts get more daring, smearing your slick up onto your belly. “Take it.” 

You wiggle your toes in the air and make passes at arching yourself into him in search of better friction. He’s got you pressed so suffocatingly into the seat that it does absolutely nothing for you. In fact, he holds your harder and changes tack so that your thighs press together. At the very apex of them, his weeping cock slips through the seam. 

Pressing his cheek into your calf, he watches you. Every gasp and shaky inhale, he watches. It spurs his rutting on, sticky sounds and pants eating up the air. Your nails claw at his hands as, finally, a knot tightens in your core. 

“Yes, please,” you breathe. He fucks your thighs harder. Faster. Every nudge at your clit and hole becomes euphoric. “Kai, baby—I’m gonna—” 

Just as furiously easy as last time, he rips it all away from you. The rushing away of the buzzing and promise of shaking thighs—he takes it from you again. It brings prickling tears to your eyes. “Kai?” you hiss. “Again?” 

His eyes aren’t playful. He pulls your calves back over his shoulders, handling your hips into a better position to press his cock right at your entrance as if you weigh nothing. Face utterly straight, he says, “I don’t think you deserve it, do you? Not after what you did with Yeonjun.” 

A swallow goes down your throat hard. He presses himself just a bit harder into you. Not in yet, but right there. 

When he does begin sliding in, the stretch of it... You cling to him and squirm between him and the warm cushions behind you. Each inch is a heady feeling, all the way up to the hilt of him. He shudders a controlled breath. “You’re so fucking tight, though,” he grits out. “Did he not fuck you right?” 

Slaps of skin bounce off the car interior and between your bodies. He starts off at a brutal pace; you know it’s meant to make your brain go foggy. Squeezing your eyes closed, you manage, “I... didn’t fuck him.” It comes out strangled, voice bouncing as he fucks you into the car seat. 

Thumb tugging your bottom lip down and then dipping into your mouth, he watches the show of your ecstasy down to every last detail. “Yeah?” he says, voice shaking and almost desperate. “Always thinking of me, huh? Such a good little princess. You know exactly where your heart belongs.”  

You want to answer him, even just with a whine or moan. You try to. But with his thumb pressing down on your tongue, enough to pin it to the floor of your mouth, it’s not gonna happen. He tastes salty in your mouth. 

His truck consists of his grunts and whines, and your taut groans for some moments that seem to stretch forever. The planes of his groin grind against your clit when he delivers occasional pointed rolls, but mostly it’s just an animalistic, feverish dancing of your two sweaty bodies, holds growing more frantic the closer you get.  

Thumb wet with saliva; he frees your mouth. The hand trails slowly down your face and your chin, brushing feather touches, until he finds your neck. 

Your eyes fly open, wide. He pressed his fingers into your neck—no real pressure yet, he looks at you through damp strands of dangling hair and says, “Want my fingers around your neck?” His thumb brushes over the buzzing pulse point there. 

“Yes,” you grit out, body bouncing and back raw with friction against the coarse cushion’s surface. Your breath stutters, your mind stutters. Even your blinks stutter, eyelids too lazy to keep up. “Please.” 

The pressure of his fingers there—it frightens you and has you tightening around him at the same time. But you would trust nobody more with your life than Kai. 

He presses his cheek to your calf to indulge in the sight of you like this: underneath him, folded in two, nowhere to go but to take his pistoning hips, cheeks blazing, and his fingers pressed into your windpipe. If the way he becomes sloppier and more desperate in his tempo has anything to say for it, it does something for him. 

“Gonna be my pretty little girlfriend, huh?” he says. His voice is tight—so is your belly. You’re both so close. Hopefully, this time he’ll let you cum. “Take you to every show; show you off to everybody. Fuck.” 

Brain like static and swimming with a pinched flow of oxygen, you slur your words. “You’re—hah—gonna have other girls all over you.” 

The taunting, split-second raise of his brows flips your belly. You tighten him again. If he keeps hitting that spot, tip ramming into the soft spot deep inside you that he’d taken such delicate care of finding last time, you’re going to burst into sparkling flame and firework. He growls, “Well, I’ll just have to knock you up so that they know I’m yours, huh?” 

Holy shit. You like the sound of that. Your nails dig into his wrist around your neck, but you cry out a pitchy, “Yes!” 

“Oh, you like that?” Kai releases your throat to take both your hips. You gulp for air, finding nothing but the thick air of sex and humid breaths, at the opportunity. He’s ramming into you like he’s found a purpose. “Isn’t this the perfect position to do it? Get you pregnant?” 

With every last bit of brain power you’ve got, teetering on the edge excruciatingly close to salvation, you groan a long, hoarse sound. “Fuck, yes! Please, Kai, inside—” A hot trail of tears roll down your temples. 

It’s all he’s got to hear to still inside you. His growl rumbles deep in his chest, holding you in place and filling you with his hot cum deep in your cunt. That feeling, coupled with his short grinds against your clit as he fucks his seed deeper, takes your soul by sinful claws and crumbles it down into nothing. You burst into a shaking, whimpering peak, sucking your lips into your mouth to bare through the sheer twisting of your insides and the flame that consumes up your thighs and cunt. 

He falls on you heavy, face in your neck. Warm kisses against your clammy skin meld with your slow floating down, the two of you a beautiful, nasty picture of fucked out. He stays right inside you—the absolute stillness of him, you think he has no plans of pulling out any time soon. His long fingers card through your sweaty locks of hair. 

Finally, he presses himself off you. You get a glimpse of the window behind him—fogged up and filthy with your affairs. Anybody to see the truck from the outside would know exactly what went on inside, but right now, you don’t care. Not one bit. Your panted breaths drag in nothing but musk and thick, hot air. The drumbeat in your chest tells you that, despite how you feel ripped straight from your body, you are very much still alive. More alive than ever. 

“Warm?” he says, pushing sticky hair off his forehead. He’s a mess, too. His hair is ruffled with your touch, his clothes rumpled the same, beads of sweat rolling down the planes of his cheeks and neck, and his eyes a lazy smolder. As much as he looks like sex personified, a soft smile twitches at his lips. 

You snort. You can’t help but feel giddy, here with him. You’re with him. Nothing has ever felt more right. Unplugged when he pulls out of you, your mess trickles down onto the seat below you. “Yeah,” you say. “Very.” 

Warm is not enough to begin to describe how you feel. In your ears, you hear whisperings. Soft and gentle. Perhaps it was divine intervention, or the fates lending you their word, or maybe just rational thought. It says: 

Home. You are home. 

✎୭ ashlynn's note how do we feel about this pair? i really didn't mean for this to get so long, but i ended up RLLY liking their chemistry. i had to do their story justice. also, i finished this with kai as a guitarist and then his drummer performance came out... hmm.

﹙🏷️ ﹚@lvrs-street2mmorrow , @soohashits , @f4iryfever , @arcturus444 , @linqed , @serenityism00 , @immelissaaa , @luv4cheol , @lickingan0rchid , @20-cms , @hhoneylix , @beestvng , @hyucktapes , @bewitchless , @prince-jjae , @blankliving , @yaoizee , @stormy1408 , @missychief1404 , if your tag isn't working, check the mentions part of your settings!

[tomboy014]

Tamaranean Siblings, Part 2!

After the Body Swap incident, Phantom and Starfire get close.  Really close.  Turns out swapping bodies breaks down a lot of boundaries, and unlike Raven, the two have bonded.  Starfire has always been a hugger, and she’s taken to carrying Phantom around like a teddy bear. Phantom is used to having a red-headed big sister, and ever since his parents worked the ecto-deflectors into their jumpsuits, he might maybe be a teensy bit touch starved.  He loves to sprawl over Starfire whenever they hang out together.

It’s driving Robin up the wall.  Phantom knows he’s been crushing on Starfire for a while, and he goes and does this?!  He can’t help but get more brusque with Phantom, to the point it starts to interfere with group dynamics, and it prompts even Starfire to tell him off for it.

Danny confronts Dick privately to tell him off for being a total dingus.  As far as the two of them are concerned, Kor’i and Danny are basically siblings now.  He’s knows Dick has a crush on her;  that’s why Danny has been trying to talk him up to Kor’i so she’ll give him a chance, and his attitude is not helping.  Dick needs to CHILL OUT!

Robin: … Who?

Phantom: You live with her for pete’s sake! How do you not know her first name?!

This is also where it comes to light that Robin/Dick doesn’t actually have any dating experience.

Robin is a super popular super hero, leader of his team, and supposedly smooth and charismatic.  Dick Grayson is the adopted son of Bruce frickin’ Wayne and beloved by the public. Danny’s at the bottom of the social ladder and he still got a date with the most popular girl in school. Twice!  How are you this bad at girls? 

Either way, things with Robin start to calm down and the group dynamic returns to normal (though Danny will never let him live down his lack of love life).  But things in the training room start to heat up. 

Starfire and Phantom now have a much better understanding of each other’s limits, and the gloves are off.  The whole tower shakes whenever the two of them spar together, and they’re both experimenting with new ways to use their energy powers after seeing how the other uses theirs.  Phantom even manages to give Starfire a black eye for the first time, and she’s ecstatic! It’s a Tamaranean thing.  In their culture, it’s an accomplishment when a younger sibling to visibly injures the elder sibling for the first time.  It shows how much the younger has grown and how well the elder has taught them.  Starfire is super proud and posts it all over SpaceBook.

But Phantom has ulterior motives for pushing Starfire the way he has been.  No one knows his strengths like Starfire does.  More importantly, no one knows his weaknesses the way she does.  If there’s anyone who’d know how to stop him…

Phantom asks Starfire to be his contingency plan, and explains everything that happened in The Ultimate Enemy, about his future self, what he did, and how terrified he is if he one day becomes that.  If that ever happens, he wants her to be the one to take him out.

Don’t try to talk him out of it.  He already gets it enough from his friends and sister that it won’t happen.  That he’s a good person.  He doesn’t need to worry about that, etc.  He’s heard it all before, but… None of them have actually agreed or promised to end him if it does happen.  And if it does… his friends are only human, and they couldn’t stop him before.

Starfire agrees.  She can see how important this is to him, and she won’t lose Danny to a dark path the same way she lost her sister.  The wave of relief that washes over him breaks Starfire’s heart.  These must be the horrible feelings that led him to develop the Ghostly Wail.

Still, she is confident that this future won’t come to pass because he chooses not to let it happen.  She, too, has been flung forward into a bleak future, but she knows nothing in the past, present or future is set in stone.  She fought and changed the future with her own two hands.  She’s knows Phantom is strong enough to do the same. 

While Dick and Danny were never really good at staying in contact with each other, Kor’i is and keeps up her relationship with Danny even after he “retires.”  She knew months before Dick of Jason did that he took the job at Arkham and is happy for him.  It may not be the career path he wanted, but he found a good job and a way to still help people without his powers. 

<<Prev

[holybibly]

A sweet treat for my bunnies in honour of the one and only fascinating fox, Jung Wooyoung's birthday.

Unholy hour of the day: You love Wooyoung's possessive side, maybe so much that sometimes you don't mind playing with fire to see how long you can push his buttons before he puts you down.

Or you flirt with the other members, and Wooyoung has to use a rather unconventional method to remind you who you belong to. Inspired by their latest comeback, your boyfriend tests your limits by using ice play.

Warning: Temperature play, ice play

"Tell me, who do you belong to, Peach?' Wooyoung asks you in a sultry, hoarse voice as he hovers seductively over you and slowly moves his cold, plump lips along the tender column of your neck. You can feel the remnants of ice that were still in his mouth quickly melting as they come into contact with your heated skin, sending shivers of excitement through your spine. His lithe, strong body traps you between the searing heat of his smooth, honeyed skin and the coolness of the black silk sheets, plunging you into a voluptuous abyss of contrasting sensations as he continues to leisurely explore your skin with his incredibly soft lips and licking the moisture that has accumulated on it languidly with his cool tongue. 

"I don't know... maybe you're the one who can tell me who I belong to, Woo?" Your voice is hardly louder than a whisper as you say these words. Maybe you're being a little too bold, teasing Wooyoung like this, knowing full well that he won't let it go and will surely punish you for it. But the dark, burning stare of his heavy siren eyes and the sharp touch of his teeth against your skin were absolutely worth it. 

Wooyoung lets out a grim chuckle that doesn't bode well and makes you shiver before he grabs a fresh ice cube from the crystal vase on your bedside table and slides it across the hollow between your soft, large breasts. The air in your bedroom is so exhaustingly heavy, mixed with the rich smoky cherry scent of Woooo's favourite perfume, and it settles into your lungs with each deep breath, soaking into the airy velvety flesh of your lungs and clouding your mind. Your whole body blossoms under his touch. The contrast of the hot body hovering over you and the scintillant cold ice feels divine, delightful enough to make your pretty pussythrob with desire.

"Hmm, try it once more, Peach. C'mon, it's so easy, isn't it? Who do you belong to?" Wooyoung begins to guide the ice cube up the side of one of your breasts until he has pressed the clear, frozen piece of water against your berry-red nipple. Over and over again, it goes round and round your swollen, pointed nipple in a circle until the ice has completely melted. Warm trickles of liquid run down your sides and down your stomach, dripping onto the silk sheets beneath you and leaving dark trails of desire, and you catch your breath as he leans over your breast and sucks your almost numb nipple into his wet, warm mouth. 

Your whole body burns with fever from the scorching touch of his soft, sensual lips. You tangle your fingers in his hair, squeezing the silky, raven-wing-coloured strands between your trembling fingers as he continues to service your nipple with his tongue and teeth. Wooyoung gently bites down on the sensitive flesh, holding it in tension, and then pulls gently on it a couple of times before releasing it from his mouth with a wet, loud 'pop' sound. 

"Peach..." Your boyfriend purrs sultrily and huskily, taking a fresh ice cube from the vase. "I'm still waitin' for your answer."

"Maybe it's San? You know he looks after me..." You stammer, continuing to annoy Wooyoung, but all of your insolence melts away as quickly as the ice as Wooyoung begins his delicious torture with your other breast. The sensation of the cold and the heat makes you gasp for breath, and you raise your juicy, soft thighs in a silent plea for more.

"You know I can do this all night, baby." Wooyoung runs his cold fingers over your belly as he slides down your body and nestles himself comfortably between your spread legs. 

I... I don't know...' Your hips sway invitingly to his touch as Wooyoung's fingertips finally reach your pussy. Even though you know it's coming, you can't help but let out a loud cry as the icy cube caught between the pads of his fingers presses against your clit. 

He rubs the melting ice cube agonisingly slowly around your sensitive nerve cluster before lightly pushing it between your plump labia to slide it down your slit to your little hole. Just when you think Wooyoung can't make his little game any more sophisticated, he blows lightly on your quivering wet folds, causing you to roll your eyes in pleasure and squirm in your spot. The black silk sheets beneath you are soon soaked with melting ice and the slime that oozes from your trembling hole. 

Wooyoung barely lets you breathe as he clamps a new ice cube between his teeth and spreads your labia with two fingers, then presses the ice directly against your swollen clit, watching it shrink and turn red from the cold. Cool water runs down your cunt as the ice cube melts in his mouth, and Woo continues, soaking you with the melting ice until it's completely gone, then stroking your clit with his hot tongue—the change in temperature making you shiver with excitement, your hands clutching the sheets tightly as your hips begin to sway weakly against his caresses.

"Just say it, baby, and I'll fuck you. That's what you want, Peach, isn't it? Do you want my cock to fill up that needy cunt of yours?" Wooyoung purrs in between long, messy licks of your pussy, his tongue feeling like it is scalding hot as it swirls around your clit. To spur you on to the right answer, Woo slides two cold fingers inside you. He immediately presses them against your sweet spot, rubbing it mercilessly with his wet, icy fingertips. 

You squeal as his fingers begin to fuck you roughly and quickly, stretching you in the most delightful way, and you belatedly realise that Woooo has not taken his rings off. The massive pieces of silver jewellery drag along your slippery, quivering walls, cooling your heated flesh each time Wooyoung slides his fingers inside of you until his broad palm is completely pressed against your wet, trembling cunt. 

"Damn it, Peach, just tell me who the hell you belong to." Wooyoung growls in a low voice as he wraps your swollen clit with his sensual lips and sucking on it in the same rhythm as his fingers work their way into your hole. He is practically breaking you down, his name hanging on the tip of your tongue as you get closer and closer to your orgasm. 

And then it stops. Wooyoung releases your throbbing clit and slowly pulls his fingers out of you, leaving you with a pitiful whimper as your cocky behaviour comes back to haunt you in the form of a ruined orgasm. 

"No... Wooyoung, please let me cum." Your whimpers pitifully. Your whole body is twitching in the painful need for that sweet release.

"Oh, you finally remembered my name, huh, peach?" Wooyoung grins wickedly and reaches for another ice cube, only to slide it across your slit again, causing you to gasp and squeal loudly. Woo moves the rapidly melting ice cube to your clenching hole and pushes the half-melted cube into you, sending a violent shiver through your entire body. He has to press his palm against your stomach to hold you in place as he continues to slide the ice cube in and out of your pussy until it melts into a puddle in his hands. "So, I ask you one last time, my sweet Peach. Who do you belong to?" Wоо's voice is soft and hoarse, and you can't resist him any longer. 

'You!' You cry out, just as Wooyoung pushes his fingers into you once more. "I am yours, Wooyoung."

'That's right, baby.' Woo smiles as he flexes his fingers inside you and strokes your G-spot with the pads of his fingers to pamper you for your obedience. 'Have you finally decided to behave like a good girl?"

'Yes, I have Daddy.' You whisper in a trembling voice. 'Now are you going to fuck me?"

Wooyoung chuckles, painfully slowly pulling his fingers, smeared in your slime, out of your hole, and crawling up your body, trapping you between his body and the silk sheets again. His eyes are dark and full of lust as he leans down to your face to kiss you lightly on your parted lips. 

"Yes, Peaches, now Daddy's going to fuck you."

[kismetlotts]

Kinktober 🎃 day nine: Cheating!

cw: cheating, dubcon, noncon, mentions on rape, open relationships? (Johnny and Simon share), rough sex, mentions of blood, mentions of saliva, fingering, oral sex on reader, bruising, voyeurism, ‘don’t get caught’ trope, ignorance, degrading names such as ‘whore’, vocal Simon, creampie, mentions of having a child

Simon and Johnny who are so used to sharing each other’s little toys: their own girlfriends. It’s a weird bond that brings the two of them together. It’s sick and fucking perverted but it’s something to talk about when the weather turns cold and on a mission.

Sipping on their drinks as they recharge their batteries mumbling a, 'Remember so and so?’ getting a ‘Yeah, they were a good fuck.' in response.

It was more than likely one of the reason why the two blokes struggled with keeping their girlfriends. Most of them rejecting and breaking up with them when they’d bring it up because what woman who was looking for a family, a life, love, would want to fuck their boyfriend’s best friend? Or be tampered with?

The two of them had grown a lot of respect and loyalty for each other from this little routine. A ridiculous amount when you put it against how much respect they gained from each other at war. Protecting one and others lives, killing for each other, just doesn't help the same than sharing some good pussy. Weird logic that not even they understood but with all said, they were tight, close.

So when Johnny got his hands on you, a pretty little thing that refused to fuck until the third date he knew not only was he in danger, but you were. He knew how much Simon would ruin you, take that precious little hole of yours and stuff you so deep you'd feel it for days. Johnny just fucking knew it would happen and when you'd finally let him inside, invited him into your heavenly cunt- he couldn’t let him steal you.

Too delicate and light for Simons heavy way with sex.

"So when's my turn?" The gruff, masked man would ask Johnny. Conversation of you being brought up and the words just tumbled from the cracks of his lips. Normality and need seeping through his tone because as it was such a statement in his and Johnny's relationship, he’d think no other way.

Not once would he even consider the possibility of Johnny turning around and refusing, saying no. Telling him that your pussy- your body- is just for him. Claiming you against his own kind. Barricading and locking you away from him in his designed cell of greed.

It wasn’t doing to end well, Johnny was sure of it, so with an awkward laugh and the rub of his neck he spun around facing him, eyes catching Simons through the mask before clearing his throat. Words coming across shakier than intended because he wasn't intimidated by Simon, more fretful of what he’d do knowing that you were off limits.

"Actually, lass is a good' ne. Think she might be a keeper Si." Silence filling the room for about five seconds, the slow click of the clock on the wall the only auditable thing. Simons gaze not changing once and it killed Johnny, bugged him harder than a kick to the teeth.

Everything about him yearning to know what Simons brain was thinking or what he was planning, wanting to reach out and shake him, beg him to back off. They were getting old now, it was bound to be called off at some point- when they properly wanted to settle down and have kids and a family, right?

"Oh really?" His accent and words a monotone warning but Johnny was so flushed with relief that he hadn’t exploded and raged at him, his ears missed it. Missed the way his blinks slowed, analysing the man in front of him. Missed the way Simons personally and mindset changed. New thoughts drowning his head so hard he forced out exhales to think straight. Did he think he was better than him? More deserving of your body than gruff ol’ Simon over here? Worthier?

He was fucking seething, the metallic taste in his mouth potent as he bit his tongue, refraining to tell Johnny to go fuck himself, stand up and find you. Go track you down and make you cry both of their names just so he can hear which one sounds better or which one turns him on more.

Moaning your boyfriend’s name so loudly while his friend hits that one part. Choking out, crying out for Mactavish as your eyes roll back, tongue drooping out the side of your lips too. He’d be a liar to say his dick wasn't twitching at the thought.

"Yeah, I'm so sorry Simon-" But he was already shaking his head, hand waving him off with a sly smirk on his face as he told him no worries! Told him that's its alright and that he completely understands. Barely moving an inch the rest of the night as he came up with plans on what he's going to do to you. What he did in fact do to you.

Face down in yours and Johnny’s double bed. Panties damp with your cum from how many times Simon had already made you orgasm, shirt wet with tears and saliva. Rubbing your clit so harshly and fast your body trembled at every little touch. The fine line between touching and fucking, abuse and rape being blurred but you craved it. You longed for it, days of wishing and wondering when he’d come back to please you again.

He’d force your legs apart, holding you by the ankles while he ate like a mad man. Devouring you messily, the noises sounding like a fucking porn movie. Ruining your makeup, your sheets, your body. You couldn’t look Johnny in the eye when he got on all fours, kissing your thigh and humming against the soft skin while asking how you’d got another bruise.

Day and night- when Johnny's downstairs and when he's away. He'd have you begging to stop, pleading him to let you go before you’d lose yourself. His thrusts silencing you, cries turning to moans back to cries to screams of joy- it was mesmerising and so fucking bad of him.

“Oh shut up, babe. You know you want me.” He’d grunt, eyes shutting as he took you in again and again. Eyebrows furrowed in annoyance and ignorance for your cries. Knowing it was only a matter of time before you gave in again, joining him and thrusting back against his cock.

What made it worse was the moans that came from this man. Johnny was never vocal- never vocal enough for you but Simon sounded almost in tears. Each thrust like he’s on the brink of orgasm, you felt so good he couldn’t stay quiet- he didn’t want to.

His favourite memory was when he snuck into your window, almost kicking the stupid Halloween decorations Johnny had put up outside on his way up. The sky pitch black and your bedroom likewise but he could see you in his night vision goggles, sneaking behind you as you changed out of your clothes getting ready for bed.

Bending you over the bedframe, peeling down your panties and thrusting into you for a quickie. The sound of Johnny's electric toothbrush coming from the bathroom one room away only adding to his excitement. He could step in any minute by now, luckily from the darkness Simon had an advantage and most likely enough time to hide if he wanted to. If he wanted to leave your pussy.

Gloved fingers slipped into your mouth for you to suck or bite. Anything to help silence your moans. It excited him the fact that Johnny could find him, Johnny could catch him and realise all this time he though you were safe and committed to him you’d gone behind his back. His precious little girl who actually just a dirty whore. A dirty whore who lets her hole be used. By men she doesn’t even know.

He wonders what you do when Johnny brings him up in conversation, I mean, he figures you haven't spilt the beans to him yet so do you just laugh and nod on along? Hearing his name, acting like you don't know his touch or how his tongue feels. Pretending he's a stranger, just some stranger who's dick is drilled into your memory. He doesn't fuck like Johnny, he's bigger than him, hits all the places that Johnny can’t. You can never get Simon out of your mind.

Filling you up with his cum and laughing deeply at himself. He's got to be careful with it- what if you two were trying for a baby? That would be a shock, wouldn’t it? Gorgeous little kid coming out looking just like Simon- Simons eyes, Simons hair; a little mini Simon left all for you to raise.

Maybe Johnny would be too thick to realise, too slow to pick up on why his son looks so much like his best friend- that the son he’d always wanted actually to Simon. Oh fucking hell, he was a dark deluded arsehole- who thinks like this? Slipping back out of the window and shutting it the same time as Johnny walked into the room.

Large soft body crawling on top of you and pushing you further into the bed. Lips attacking your sensitive neck as his already hard cock slips its way inside of your warm, creampied folds. The darkness hiding all the evidence and leaving him to believe it’s just how wet you are for him. How needy and desperate you are for him.

Blissfully unaware that the wetness lubing his cock up, letting him fuck you with ease and making him feel so hot and so good, was no other than his best friends cum. Dribbling out your hole and onto your thigh as he picks up the pace.

[rooksspite]

The Invitation

Lucanis Dellamorte x f! De Riva! Rook

this is my first time actually posting something i’ve written for dragon age! i’ve loved the series for so long and decided to finally bite the bullet.

I wanted to write about Lucanis’ reaction to that crow armour you can get from the lords of fortune. let’s pretend that there aren’t other npc crows that wear it.

“C’mon! It’s blue, has feathers, and some flowy stuff. Doesn’t that check all the boxes for what you crows wear?”

Rook turns her head to look up at Taash with an unconvinced look, “we also prefer to have our vital organs covered Taash. You’re sure there isn’t a missing shirt?” she asks, turning back to the merchant of the Hall of Valour, who only raised his hands and shrugged.

“It’s rumoured to have been worn by a pretty well known crow before making its way into my collection.”

“Right.” Rook replies, unconvinced

“Perhaps the crow was so good at their job they felt they didn’t need to cover up. Isn’t a big part of the crow uniform making statement against enemies?” Neve pipes up, a hint of amusement in her tone.

Rook narrows her eyes at the woman before turning back to the armour before her. Neve wasn’t wrong about crow fashion, and the quality was really nice but it was just so… exposing.

“if I showed up in Treviso in this Viago would burst into laughter and then kick me out… again.” Rook mumbles.

Taash groans in impatience, they’d been standing here for the better part of twenty minutes as Rook looked at the merchant’s stuff, “come on Rook, we have a ring to fight in! just get it! Show off some skin for once.”

Rook blushes at that, everything she wore usually covered her up. Even her casual clothes she wore back at the lighthouse was the most she’s ever shown.

“Why don’t you try it on and see how it fairs in the ring? I’m sure Isabela would be more than happy to introduce you in your new outfit.” Neve offers

Room sighs, she didn’t know why but ever since she talked to Neve about her very limited knowledge on beauty and fashion and Neve and Taash have both been very insistent on her trying out new styles.

“Fine… We have plenty of gold anyways.”

She doesn’t notice the victorious smirks Neve and Taash share over her head.

———

“Lucanis.”

“Davrin.”

Silence rings through the library of the lighthouse as the two men greet each other. Both pretending to look at the various titles in the spines of books. Lucanis swirls the coffee in his cup and clears his throat before taking a sip.

Davin finally speaks, “So… You and Rook hey?”

Lucanis pulls his gaze away from the bookshelf, turning to Davrin with a raised eyebrow, “we have been over this no?”

Davrin shrugs leaning against another bookshelf, “just double checking, leave it up to both crows of the group to end up in a nest together.”

Lucanis chuckles, “we have not ‘nested’”

There’s a pause before Davrin continues, “You two haven’t really gone out alone have you? Outside of our work against the gods i mean.”

Lucanis blinks at the question and pauses to think, “well uh… no not really.”

“Why not?”

Lucanis sighs, it had been weeks since their near kiss before he cowered away, and while they continued to show clear attraction on both sides, it’s not as if there was an official label on their… relationship. Would it be too much to spend time alone? With no goal in mind?

“it’s complicated” He finally says stiffly.

Davrin chuckles, “I can see that,”

The familiar whoosh of the eluvian from below can be heard, “perfect timing,” Davrin hums.

The doors to the eluvian room creak open and the murmur of chatter can be heard as the three make their way up the stairs.

Neve surfaces first and a sly smile crosses her face when she makes eye contact with lucanis.

Well that can’t be good, he thinks to himself as he takes a sip of his coffee,

“Welcome back,” Davrin greets, “How was the ring?”

Neve shrugs, “Isabela’s out another 60 gold. We would’ve been back sooner if someone didn’t take their time shopping.”

Rook’s laughter can be heard as she climbs the staircase, “I didn’t take that long neve.” she says as she reaches the top of the staircase.

Lucanis chokes on his coffee.

“Sooo what do we think?” Taash says as they walk up behind Room. A large grin on their face. They put their hands on Rook’s shoulders and spin her around like a doll, ignoring her sounds of protest.

Davrin throws an amused look back at Lucanis, “What do we think Lucanis?” he turns his gaze back and crosses his arms, “I think you’re missing a shirt Rook.”

“According to the merchant I’m not.” Rook says with a sheepish chuckle. Suppressing the urge to cross her arms over her chest.

“Thing fits like a glove though, she fought in the arena with this armour on and left perfectly fine.” Neve says, nudging Rook with her elbow.

“Mierda, you fought in that?” Lucanis finally chokes out. Barely recovering from the initial shock of seeing the woman he was already extremely attracted to wearing… That.

“Like a badass.” Taash confirms, smirking at the sight of Lucanis’ face, “well Neve you had to show me that… thing right?”

Neve nods, the mischievous smile never leaving her face, “right of course. would you like to come with Davrin? For the thing?”

The elf smiles knowingly, “I’d love to.”

the three waste no time in leaving the library of the lighthouse, the door swinging shut behind them.

Rook chuckles nervously under Lucanis’ stare, rocking back and forth on her feet.

“It’s a bit much right? The merchant said a renowned crow once wore this armour but I think he just lost the shirt.”

Lucanis rakes his eyes up and down her body. Trying desperately not to focus on her chest.

But how could he when she was wearing a variety of necklaces that led his eyes even further down? For once he could see almost the entirety of the tattoo she had on her chest, who put that there? Who had the pleasure of seeing the full expanse of her soft skin before he could-

“Lucanis?”

Lucanis jumps as his train of thought is broken, he clears his throat as he tightens his grip on his coffee cup, “you look…”

“VERY NICE ROOK.”

There’s a pause as Spite’s voice rings through the library. Lucanis suddenly wishes that the device spinning above their heads would malfunction and he would be torn up by the fade.

Rook, in all her kindness laughs, her hand coming up to cover her mouth, “thank you Spite but I was asking Lucanis.”

Her eyes meet his again and he swallows. There’s a pause before he takes a deep breath, calming the shock in his mind.

“I think…” he started slowly, stalking his way up to Rook, “you look beautiful, though I would advise against leaving some of the most important parts of you… vulnerable.”

Rook doesn’t know if the dip in his voice is intentional but it makes her shiver nonetheless. Her eyes trained on the free hand that comes up to feel the plumage on her shoulders.

“T-that’s what I told Taash,”, she says with an awkward chuckle. Suddenly feeling very warm.

Rook breaks her gaze away from his hand and nearly gasps when she meets Lucanis’ eyes. Dark and intense, with a heat in them that was starting to become familiar to her.

Flustered, Rook breaks eye contact. laughing awkwardly as one of her hands comes up to fiddle with the chains in her neck. Lucanis tries to not make his stare so obvious.

“I-I should change, no need to be in armour here right?” Rook steps away awkwardly, not waiting for an answer. Nearly tripping as she quickly ascends the stairs towards her room.

It’s only when Lucanis hears the creak of a door opening and closing does he slouch and inhale shakily, his hand reaching towards a bookshelf to steady himself, “mierda.”

[queer-brainrot]

ok so here's the thing about jercy. they're like an onion, they have layers

they are totally boyfriends that call each other dude and bro all the fucking time, they tease each other and joke around, they get into dumb competitions with each other and their banter is top notch

but they're also. all over each other. and not like in a making out in front of everyone kind of way but like you can't tell me jason isn't touch-starved and i just know that his sweet, empathetic, emotionally intelligent percy is going to pick up on that. so Percy is always touching Jason, an arm over his shoulder or resting his hand on the small of his back or holding hands while they patrol with their swords in their dominant hands. jason probably doesn't realize how badly he needs it until he gets it and then he doesn't know how to ask for it but percy delivers anyways. eventually jason works his way up to using his words and even initiating the contact he craves all by himself

bottom line they are soft for each other, as leaders of their camps it's hard for them to let their guard down but with each other they can because they know the other just gets it and they feel safe. you don't think jason absolutely breaks down crying on percy's chest after meeting sally and comparing it to his own mother, while percy holds him through it and reassures him that sally is his family too? you don't think jason will stay up all night holding percy when the nightmares get to be too much? i think these two are able to open up much more to each other than anyone else. they're both the big spoon, they're both the little spoon, they each need it sometimes ok

but just because they're soft and in love does not mean they don't go hard on each other in training, they fight in the arena without holding back. they're still super competitive with one another whether it's sword fighting, demigod abilities, or dumb stuff (including but not limited to flirting and making the other blush). they know the other can take it

but oh my gods if one of them gets hurt? they are so fucking protective. between percy 'loyalty is my fatal flaw' jackson and jason 'raised by wolves' grace they would do anything, go absolutely feral, to keep the the other safe from any threat, real or perceived, because they're so precious to one another. these traits probably also lead into some possessiveness but like they're into it and i promise it's not in a toxic way it's just very low-key they know they don't like "own" each other alright

so like yeah they can be pushing each other around bro-ing out almost looking like they're just friends, or you can question how they can look ready to kill each other when they spar, but you gotta look for the subtle things. look in their eyes, they can't keep the absolute love and adoration out of their eyes. and remember, as touchy as they are when they're relaxing around camp, you will never see what they're like when it's just themselves (hint it's a complete mashup of bro shit and soft love and passion), and if you try getting too close to either boyfriend they will both instantly shut you down

[allpiesforourown]

Can I ask from this ask game for BingYuan (all of the questions)? Thanks 🧁

https://www.tumblr.com/comingfromastatechampionasshole/119898100247?source=share

Send me a ship and a number and I'll tell you

1. Which one is the better cook

Binghe 100%. Shen Yuan was a spoiled rich kid and after Binghe fell into the abyss he just stopped eating... there's no way he knows how to toast bread

2. What their love letters look like

Love letters imply they're ever far enough to need to send each other letters... at most they'll be long texts Binghe sends rambling about how much he wuvs his hubby and would rather be at home than his stupid job as King 🙄 and Shen Yuan blushes and replies "Focus on work Binghe..." Then he waits for Binghe to get home and whine that sy was so cold to him so he can apologize with smooches

3. Which one outlives the other, and how they cope

I mean . We know how this goes. Corpse cuddles and trying to raise the dead

4.What they do on date night

Since Binghe is a hopeless romantic who never thought anyone would love him, I think he'd want to do stereotypically romantic and basic dates. They go to an ice rink and hold hands while they skate and he's vibrating with joy because he's living out his hallmark fantasies. Shen Yuan indulges him sooo much.. too much. He got a cold but it was worth it seeing Binghe's happy face

5. How many kids they'll have

I'm gonna say... two. One is through breeding kink gone too far, second is them seeing an orphan boy who reminds them so much of Binghe as a child and deciding they have to adopt him immediately

6. How they decorated their bedroom

Elegant and slightly minimalist. Shen Yuan has all his merch hidden away in his childhood bedroom at his parents house because he's thin faced... they stay over one night and Shen Yuan completely forgets his old room is a haven of his weeb shit and is mortified when Binghe sees his limited edition poster of a hunky male character naked holding a sword.

7 Which one is the worse driver

Shen Yuan by far... same reason as his cooking, he probably had a driver take him everywhere until Binghe showed up

8. What they argue about

9. Which one swears more

Shen Yuan by a landslide. Binghe is a very intelligent and well read man and while the same holds true for Shen Yuan, if he goes 2 minutes without calling Airplane a dumfuck authour it's worrying

10. What TV shows they watch together, and which ones they hide from the other

Theyll watch anything together, even stuff they dont like so Binghe can listen to him rant about how much it sucks. Shen Yuan hides PIDW and all his other porn-for-plot interests but Binghe knows about them.

11. What their first impression was of each other

Shen Yuan impression of Binghe: beautiful and strong man

Binghe’s first impression of Shen Yuan: beautiful and kind man

(This never changes)

12. What they do for their anniversary

Regrets of Chunshan role-playing baby!!

13. Which makes a bigger deal of birthdays

Hmm. I'm gonna have to say both. Binghe cooks a feast and Shen Yuan dotes on him and fulfills any wish Binghe has.

14. What nicknames they call each other

Binghe: yuan-gege or laoshi

Shen Yuan: Bingmei (in his head only, he's too embarrassed to say it)

15. What they would change about each

If you ask them, Shen Yuan would say Binghe should have a smaller pillar... this is a lie. He can't go back to normal after getting used to Binghe stretching him so wide

[sometipsygnostalgic]

Animated Series ending tier list

Okay this is based on a discussion with @j4gm, kim and mifil the other day

These are all cartoons with the exception of Homestuck. I'll admit I don't get invested in a lot of TV shows, even animated shows, so this is limited to stuff I like. Maybe i forgot something but if i did it's probably not worth talking about.

Here's the list if you're interested in building your own.

So I'll go through each item one by one and explain. Yes, I did arrange them based on better (left) and worse (right) for each tier. I'll start from top to bottom so I have the most energy for the better show endings.

I'm rating them both in how they respect the stories of their show, and how entertaining/cohesive they are as a piece of media. To be honest, the former matters to me more than the latter, but some of the shows at the top of this list aren't even ones I particularly like, because their endings were just that well written.

Astonishing

Owl House. This show got better and better with each episode. I don't know, I was blown away by how bad it was at the start and how great it was at the end. And of every item on this list, this one's ending episode had the best pacing. There was lots of room to breathe, lots of reminders of the connections between various characters, and the villain was taken care of in a satisfying way. And we got a beautiful epilogue. The only reason Owl House is in the same tier as She-ra and Gravity Falls, instead of being its own category, is because I felt it had some shortcomings, particularly s3e2 focused on a bunch of characters nobody has ever had any reason to care for, and a lot of the cast don't reach the potential they could do because they lack focus, so I don't have as much emotional attachment to it as a lot of other shows listed here. Anyway here's my favourite moment:

2. She-Ra and the Princess of Power. This is my favourite show on this list because I think it's the most cohesive of the lot. Even though it has a rough start, and often follows cartoon logic, from the very beginning of She-ra to the end it focuses strongly on the same themes. The cycle of abuse and pain and that feeling you will need to earn love, you need to earn the right to exist. It does so with a wide cast of characters, but it's also very good at trimming down to a smaller cast when it needs more focus. There are a lot of good decisions to make sure it worked in the small runtime it had. The ending of she-ra is basically its entire final season. It's one long arc. It doesn't have any major weak spots like The Owl House's final season did, and it has more room to breathe, with 13 incredible episode of about 20 minutes each, more than twice the length. And it delivers on every single character. Every member of the cast gets a moment to shine across the season, yet it isn't so distracted as to pull attention away from Catra and Adora. What makes She-ra's ending a bit weaker than Owl House's is the pacing of the final episode. Heart part 1 and 2, while great, is absolutely rammed, and one of the weaker episodes of that season because of it. You don't get enough room to breathe, you don't get to soak in the characters' emotions quite as much as in the episode prior, Failsafe. But I would count Failsafe as part of the ending. So while season 5's finale isn't even the best finale of She-ra (s3 and s4 were harder hitting), the final season as a whole is incredibly strong. And it's a very entertaining piece of media too! Ugh. I love it.

Here's this powerful scene of Catra whispering and yet screaming to Adora to stay with her, even in the end.

3. Gravity Falls.

To be honest I'm not much of a Gravity Falls fan, so I don't have as much to say as I do about the other two shows, but this ending is highly regarded across the cartoon community. It works perfectly within the smaller scope of the show, bringing a wide, crazy calamity for the characters to work with.

My problem with Gravity falls is Mabel. Not that she's a bad character, but that they don't spend enough time making her a good one. And the ending reflects that - it shows her doing something very major, overturning the world, and that's interesting, but it keeps presenting Mabel's problems as rather shallow instead of focusing on her psychology and why she's making these mistakes. Meanwhile it spends a lot of time on Dipper and explaining and justifying his teenage boy mentality and it drived me crazy how much more of a main character Dipper is than Mabel. Because it's Mabel I relate more to. She's more like I was when I was 12. It's a teen boy's show for teen boys, so I don't like it as much as Owl House or Amphibia. Other than that the ending is a good time and I love the themes of family, I love that Dipper has such low self worth and is grappling with the idea of what manliness even is, facing misguided pressure from other relatives like Stan and Ford. And I love the relationship between Stan and Ford, the mistakes they made, and how Stan ultimately takes responsibility for being an obstructive little shit by removing his memory, taking Bill with him!

Yeah, perhaps this show's ending could've been further strengthened by Stan having his memory lost forever, or having a harder time regaining it. But it makes sense in the stakes of Gravity Falls, where the world resets after every episode even if there was a zombie invasion. I don't see them having Stan forget his great nephew/niece as the ending of the show.

And it has a nice scene with the characters driving off in the bus... Heartbreaking. I love that Stan and Ford go adventuring together afterwards. And I love the theme song.

Remaining rankings below - I think these three should be celebrated most. It's gonna be a shorter summary from here.

Genuinely Good

These are endings that blow you away, but do have a couple nooks and crannies stopping them from reaching the top tier. Another person's list might put them at the top.

Adventure Time Distant Lands: See what's crazy about Distant Lands is that anyone one of these episodes might be the best in the series if it was a different show, but Adventure Time is such a good show that the way Distant Lands is different stands out to me. Like, Together Again, you might think I'm crazy for not putting it above Owl House, but while it's a fantastic episode, really emotional, it's not even my favourite Distand Lands episode. That would be Obsidian which I felt was a more honest resolution to the characters of the show itself, showing the limitless future ahead of the cast instead of what TA did which was demonstrate that Finn really didn't go much further after the end of the show. I felt TA was very limiting in that sense, it contradicted the ending to Adventure Time, which had the strength of "the adventure never ends". Which means that growth never ends. Finn is supposed to be an ever changing character, but in Together Again, he's stagnant.

Other than that, it's absolutely top tier. But not good enough for me to call it the best of the best. Even if I think Finn's character writing was a downgrade, or harmed the main show, I think where DL and TA did better than Come Along With Me is it was actually coherent and had strong themes rather than being a mishmash of random parts of Adventure Time that they wanted to shove in before it was over. It was a better tv finale, one of the best and most emotional ever made, but it's hard to call it a better Adventure Time finale, because AT's legacy hinders on so much more. 2. OK KO: Let's be Heroes: This is a show that went under the radar. It was coming out at the same time as Steven Universe, which was far more popular. So I'll explain it to you: OK KO has two endings. KO has grappled with his alternate persona, TKO, for the entire show. In the first ending, TKO takes over, and starts fighting everyone in a giant tournament. He literally kills all the cast, while KO is struggling to regain control. KO's epiphany is that TKO is a part of himself he buried long ago. KO has always tried to be the sweetest kid possible, so all his rage and fire, all his strength, was neglected and buried. That became TKO. It's similar to the ending of Celeste. They fuse together, but KO is crying because he killed all his friends. So he makes a wish to the God of the Universe to give everyone a happy ending. Then you get a really nice ending montage of all the characters from OK KO having the time of their life. One interesting touch was Venomous, KO's bastard father, had very little to do with KO in this timeline. KO clearly wanted nothing to do with him. But Venomous is shown raising his adoptive daughter Fink and doing a fantastic job. The final episode of OK KO has KO seemingly stuck in time acceleration. Time is flying by, his friends are achieving their goals, leaving the town, way before he can begin to process what he's even doing here. Everything is going faster and faster and it's like he's jumping forward! He doesn't know what's going on!!! But when he explains his plight, he's told... This is normal. This is a normal part of growing up. What seems like time acceleration is just time passing by. Then the rest of the episode show KO going through his life in the same manner. A big gag of the show is KO is age 6-11. That's his age. It's the same as the target audience for OKKO. But you see him grow up. His twelth to fifteenth birthday... 18th to 24th birthday... 25th to 35th birthday... At the end, he's in charge of the Bodega, a full adult looking after runts just like Mr Gar did. I dunno, I felt this was a very meaningful way to end the show. Even if it's not the most emotionally heavy hitting series, even if it's way too short, it did something that stays in my mind to this day. Time goes by in such a flash that you don't notice it was there to begin with, so appreciate the good things life throws at you.

3. The Legend of Korra: The show Korra wasn't particularly great, if I was rating the media as a whole it would probably be at the very bottom of this list. Yes below Star and Homestuck and Kipo. It's not remarkable in the slightest and constantly fumbles.

However I was at the edge of my seat during the series finale in Season 4. I was excited by the conflict between Korra and Kuvira. I loved the metalbending battles. I loved Korra's actualisation, how Kuvira is a very good rival, how their whole conflict plays out with Korra demonstrating such an INSURMOUNTABLE LEVEL OF STRENGTH both in power and character to save Kuvira from her own mistake.

I love how Korra decides to take a break and leave with Asami into the spirit world through the portal she just opened. It was a nice relationship in a show that has so heavily fumbled its prior character dynamics.

And you can't forget how it felt watching this the first time. Afterwards, Bryke made a post on tumblr saying "Korrasami is Canon". You have to remember, this was long before Bubbline was anything more than subtext in two episodes. This was before Steven Universe's "Stronger than You". This was the first time two girls were confirmed to be in a relationship in a kid's cartoon in America. I was so happy. You have to understand Korrasami did a lot of good things and made a lot of the queer representation in these other items possible.

Did the job

These are endings that were OK. They were satisfying but they weren't anything special. They weren't the best episodes or seasons of the series they're from.

Avatar: The last Airbender: I will be honest this show is in a similar realm to She-ra wherein its whole final season is one big buildup to a couple of fast-pased episodes. And honestly its final episode might be better than She-ra's in a pacing sense? But... The simple part is I don't like Avatar as much. I didn't feel particularly strongly about most of these characters. It's a very competent tv finale, with strong scenes - the Agni Kai, and Katara's capture of Azula, are particular strong points. But it's quite long and there are a lot of scenes I don't feel much about, like Aang vs Ozai. Back in the day lots of people were unhappy Aang spared Ozai, and I get that it's not in character for him to just kill him, but it was the original "deus ex machina" for Aang to find a way to get out of it and get what he wanted. It isn't particularly interesting. And then Aang x Katara... I don't care. So yeah ATLA does the job. It's a great final season but I don't care for the finale itself and the characters. while great for the time - by far the EARLIEST show to release on this list - are more childish and cartoony than most. They don't have depth required to compete with more modern cartoons. You've only got maybe two outstanding characters in a tight story vs She-ra's one dozen in a looser story, and honestly I value character more than cohesion because that's what you remember. That's what makes you feel things. Anyone can make a story where things happen but what makes you care? Being a bit harsh here because a lot of people call this the greatest show of all time blah de blah and throw away everything all the other shows do better. But the ATLA finale isn't even in the top ten most interesting episodes of the series. This part went hard though (couldn't find a video of it alone):

Azula starts the scene dominating Katara, and then Katara turns the tables and restrains her using the very ice which fire is supposed to melt, which is mentally destroying for Azula. All she can do is scream and breathe fire when she is restrained, unable to let out all her rage and pain. And Katara spares a moment to witness this, looking troubled, before she runs off to Zuko, attempting to save his life.

2. Adventure Time original ending: Why is my favourite show of all time listed so far down? Why? Well it's because while that AT finale is emotional, hits a lot of themes, it's... a fucking mess. The first part is a war which has only been relevant for two episodes, the second part is a dream sequence which destroy any tension you might've had, and the rest is an unrelated battle against GOLB because we needed a real final boss.

It's a really bad tv finale. And it even does harm to my favourite character in the show, Princess Bubblegum, by making her seem irrational. She's someone who has had the entire series for us to get to know her, to see her biggest flaws and see her struggle to overcome them. So for her to fall back on them yet again, nearly fuck everyone over, with such little buildup and justification and literally throw a child tantrum when Finn interrupts it, it's an injustice to her. She deserved better than everyone thinking she's a fascist forever. The AT crew should have respected their own work on that character better instead of leaving her off like that.

But... even despite these issues, despite being so incoherent? It's a great Adventure Time ending. It makes perfect sense. Of COURSE it's anticlimactic! Of COURSE there's a ten minute dream sequence of crazy shit happening! Of course it's so sudden, things happen so quickly without much time spent to reflect on them! It's Adventure Time! This is what we're HERE for! And the emotional heart of the episode, it isn't really in the Great Gum War or the battle against Golb. It's in Shermie and Beth, and Future Ooo. The fact that the world will end again, but even then.. it's fine. Everything changes. Everything grows. Nothing can stay as it is forever, but letting it go might allow something new and beautiful to take its place.

It's in Jake trying to protect his home, freaking out, and BMO coming in... instead of being looked after, BMO decides to reassure jake, even in certain doom.

It's in Time Adventure. We may not be able to go home, turn back time, relive the past and return to how things were, but... you and I will always be back then.

3. Scavenger's Reign: I felt this show started stronger than it ended. The ending wasn't offensive but it wasn't good either. Honestly I don't have shit to say about the ending, other than that Barry is an annoying stereotype of an autistic character with no agency of his own and it breaks my heart. I liked how relentlessly bad Kris was and I liked Azi struggling to save the day. I liked how her character evolved from being straightfoward and pushing down Levi's curious, kind traits, to embracing those very things in her memory.... while maintaining the strength in adversity needed to challenge someone like Kris. The baby alien thing sure was there. I dunno, the earlier eps with those two hit harder than the ending. The worst part is the sequel bait. We are not getting a sequel. Why is there sequel bait? Seems like the crew were a bit too optimistic for a team of cartoonists working for HBO Max.

But the show as a whole is incredible and has left a strong impression. So, an inoffensive ending is completely fine. I like how everyone is still stranded because of Kris, who meanwhile is dehydrating to death in space because of the organic Levi invasion, and all the people they left behind are chilling in the alien wonderland, learning how to live comfortably.

4. Fionna and Cake: We're now moving into the endings I dislike for one reason or another. I liked Fionna and Cake's themes with Simon and Betty, how it showed a bit more from Betty's side, how obsessive she was with him and he didn't even know.

This does have a weakness though. It removes agency from Betty. It was her choice, in the finale, to sacrifice herself to become GOLB. She was chasing Simon over and over and over again, SHE was the obsessive mad scientist, and she finally achieved her goal at great cost even though could've given up at any time. It was a tragedy. But here it kinda shifts the blame on Simon, even though he was a victim of Betty's obsession. I'm not accusing it of victim blaming, more that I really liked that it was Betty making her own terrible mistakes. It added a lot of character and conviction to her. I don't think Fionna and Cake undermines this much. Kim was a lot more bothered. Besides the Simon plot, the rest is.. ok. It was very predictable Fionna would want to protect the boring, happy world she came from. It fits and it has heart. But it's not remarkable. The ending montage is... weird. Why is Jay and Little Destiny here? Why is Baby Finn here? What about their worlds? Won't they be missed? Did Farmworld Finn fucking die? And the big problem with Fionna and Cake is.. it's such a meanspirited show, even compared with Adventure Time. It relies on you finding tragic shit really funny, like BMO having a horrible gory deeath in jerry. When Fionna and Cake has desensitized me this much, it's hard to feel emotionally invested in this world anymore. It made mistakes by showing too many alternate universes and undermining the world of Adventure Time itself, and I have issues with how Marceline was completely absent from the series - AGAIN - despite allegedly being so important to Simon. It's an outright BAD Adventure Time ending!!! I do love the presentation of Casper and Nova, how it was revealed it wasn't Simon Petrikov but the little Fionna and Cake fan who was able to write the story that finally got through to him and made him realise he needed to stop holding betty back.

"You were a good experience, Simon. Goodbye."

Mistakes were Made

These are the endings that fumbled, disappointed people. They still have value in them but theyre largely disliked by the fanbases involved. I'll explain a bit of why.

1, Arcane: This one just ended last night and is the reason I'm making this post.

I explained a bit here and here, but the issue is: Arcane's a much better show than it has any right to be. It's a league of legends cartoon. But season 1 is so heavy hitting, a tight ship from start to end focusing on the dramas of Vi, Jinx, and the people around them. The main weakness of season 1 was Jayce, Viktor, and Mel. It would distract from the main story in order to focus on them, but wouldn't spend enough time making them compelling characters. Season 2 has this issue tenfold where it seems the scope of the season was so big that it had very limited time to have those amazing scenes from season 1. And there certainly some heavy hitters, like Ekko save-scumming his conversation with Jinx to find a way to stop her killing herself, or Caitlyn and Mel's battle with Ambessa, or Jayce and Viktor yetting themselves into arcane oblivion, but... the finale itself seems very disconnected from the rest of the series, having a generic big bad in Possessed Chaos God Viktor. It lacks any of the intrigue of the Piltover vs Zaun conflict that was so important from s1e1 all the way to s2e4, after which it was promptly discarded in favour of other distractions. And as a result, Jinx and Vi are left as side characters in the ending of their own series, with a lot of their internal struggles left behind. Instead of the tragedy of season 1's ending, we are left thinking of the tragedy of how much better the ending could've been if they had just one more season to give these characters justice.

The strongest episode of the season is probably episode 6. If you know, you know.

2. Ducktales: So if you were a casual viewer of Ducktales you probably had no issues with this one. It's a competent TV finale where stuff happens and all the characters get involved and there are emotional themes.

What's weird about this one, and why it's so far down, is because of Webby's role. Webby is a misfit because she's not a member of the Scrooge family. She's a wannabe. She wants to be part of them, part of the siblings, and she has more in common with Scrooge and Della's brilliance than the other three, but she will never have that blood relationship. Her own parents are dead too, so she has feelings about watching the triplets reunite with their mother.

But in season 3... Ot's like the Ducktales writers were told they only had one episode left to work with and just made something up, and what they decided to do was take the "found family" trope and say "actually it was real family the whole time because Webby was Scrooge's secret clone daughter".

It leaves a bad taste in my mouth. The show did such a good job before this point showing Webby's development as she gets loved and accepted into the family. But for her to have always secretly had that blood relationship undercuts it fully.

It also undercuts her relationship to her grandmother, who tries to move out of the picture as soon as the truth comes out. The show does have Webby embracing her gran to show theyre still family. But we already had this story told in a better way with Webby and Scrooge and the triplets.

The fact the finale has nothing to do with the rest of the season is also why it's so far down. The season 2 finale was pretty spectacular by comparison and had compelling scenes like Della freaking out over protecting her kids and "running to the moon" with them, recycling her trauma (yes a ducktales character has trauma).

If you're not bothered by it, it's an inoffensive, fun finale. But more obsessive Ducktales fans and Webby fans were quite upset, myself included.

3. Kipo and the age of Wonderbeasts

I can't remember much about how this show ended. Honestly that's part of the problem. The first season was far more intrigueing than anything that followed and the whole thing came out across 2020 and it was a forgettable experience despite Karen Fukuhara voicing the energetic Kipo.

What I do remember is being pissed off about some things. Like how a lot of the talking animals were turned into non-talking animals and that was how things ended for them, and no vaccine or anything was made. It pissed me off somehow? Please kipo fans tell me your feelings on this.

I also disliked the final villain. She's a lot like Kris from Scavenger's Reign but even more generic and disappointing.

I dunno, to me the finale represents the wasted potential of this show. How it takes place in a world that rivals Adventure Time's, but Netflix did away with it so quickly, releasing three entire seasons in one year and leaving it with a generic end.

The peak into everyone's futures is nice, but it's not intrigueing like with The Owl House or Adventure Time.

4. Steven Universe: What a hot mess of an ending that threw out so much potential for the wider Steven Universe world. The motivations of the main villains were narrowed down to "we have emotional problems". Steven Universe has a consistent issue where it has emotional scenes at the expense of characters and story.

But I rate this more highly than the SU Future ending, despite that one having perhaps more cohesive writing, because I felt that the SU end had some incredible scenes that carried the spirit of the show while SU Future constantly undermined the original series without providing enough value of its own.

In particular, the scene James Baxter animated of Steven and Steven. This was mind-blowing, it was the climax to the most important part of the story, the truth of Steven's identity and whether he was his own person.

In retrospect that scene brings more value to me than all the bad parts of SU... but SU had so many amazing characters. It's a tragedy that Steven was the only one of them that the show still loved by the end.

Hardest line:

She's GOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOONE!!!!

5. Amphibia: Season 3 was plagued by being worse than season 2. The opening episodes on Earth were kinda bad, just "Amphibia season 1 episodes but in a far more boring setting". I hated anything involving the secret agents.

The fact Kipo, Scavenger's Reign, and Amphibia all have corpo villains at the end, and the fact I didn't like any of those endings, shows to me that it's not a particularly great thing to add to a fantasy story.

The first sad part is "the magic is destroyed". A popular theme in Disney shows. Well, what happens here is Sasha, Anne, and Marcy lose their magic abilities, and they decide to stay on Earth and lose the ability to travel to Amphibia. It's not massively offensive but it's kind of played out and generic and it does the sad thing of separating the trio from their found family. What's controversial is the epilogue shows that Anne, Sasha, and Marcy stopped hanging out after the end. They just broke off from each other's lives, it was easy as that. It wasn't a lifelong friendship. They do reunite in the end but it's been like ten years. It undermines the emotional turmoil that was present across the whole show. What Matt Braly wanted to show is sometimes things happen. Despite how much you want to be best friends forever... you stop being close to people, you lose touch with them. But this isn't a story that makes much sense when the characters have been through so much together in a fantasy world. It's like Marcy's worst fears have come true, and while that's a point of growth for her, it's frustrating for the viewers who believed the endgame bonds between the characters were better than that.

[Edit: Other than that, a lot of characters weren't delivered in justice s3 with how they had been built up in season 2. Sasha is hardly present in season 3 and Marcy is genuinely not present at all, and when we watched it we really thought they were gonna do more with Marcy when she came back. Swim in that emotional trauma a little bit! But no she's fine even with her evil father figure gone. It could've been better, should've been because season 2 was so stellar.] And I wasn't a fan of how Anne was portrayed at the end. I don't like how these stories make their characters "grow up" in such a way that they come across as love-all hippies instead of having anything resembling their original personality. Where's her sass? Why is she so melancholic and only melancholic? But that's a personal problem I haven't seen many others talk about.

Other than that, it's a competent episode. But it's the ending to a weaker season compared to what came prior.

The cat in this drawing has been my discord icon since we watched it though.

What the Hell?

These are the endings that shat the bed. I hate them! Everyone else probably does too.

Steven Universe Future: Unlike the other endings of this section, I did feel like Rebecca Sugar was going somewhere with SU future. They had a specific goal in mind for what they wanted to do, and every episode reaches towards that goal in some way. That's why a lot of people think Steven Universe Future is better than the more disjointed, huge tv series that came prior. It had a set start middle and end and carried through those themes. Unfortunately, those themes suck. Yeah, it's great deconstructing the impact Steven Universe had on Steven as a character, showing the damage that was done to him, the ways he's been let down. In isolation, it's a great way to show how a difficult childhood can affect you in adulthood, in ways that you would have never expected. This is the value SU Future has. It also has good sections showing how some other characters have recovered, how Pearl for example is healing and far more social than she ever has been but still has a ways to go, and finally talks to someone about her feelings over Pink Diamond, the previous Pearl that served her. Volleyball is a great episode. Unfortunately it takes the wrong lessons from the mistakes of the show. Steven Universe really wanted us to fall in love with its many characters, but it spent so much time showing Garnet, Amethyst and Pearl's flaws, spent so much time showing them failing Steven, that they ultimately came across as incompetent and sidelined. This is an issue with the original show. Steven Universe Future: "You know what? You're right! That was bad!" Me: "So are you going to do those characters justice and show them having growth and being competent and caring for Steven?" Steven Universe Future: "No. We are going to show them BEING EVEN WORSE and COMPLETELY FAILING to connect with Steven!" Me: "... For the entire thing????" Steven Universe Future: "Yes. this is never fixed and Steven leaves the county because of it." Me: "What the fuck?" Even people who were really into the whole thing were taken aback that Steven's kaiju transformation, the manifestation of his deepest fears about himself, was resolved with a hug. Just like the major conflict in the original show. And instead of a meaningful denouement, the show skipped all the resolution and went to Steven running the fuck away in an episode that would've had equal emotional value if it was in season 1 episode 1, or a competely different series. It was cheap and easy to make a bittersweet ending of Steven leaving the city. And it made it feel like the tragedy of Steven's mental breakdown was more important than his healing. Like they couldn't make an interesting story of him getting better because they're incompetent writers. I did like the scene of Steven crying his eyes out after he detransformed. And a lot of scenes in Future did go hard. But the Crystal Gems deserved better. Hell, Jasper deserved better.

Hardest scene:

2. Star vs the forces of Evil: Hooo boy. In the animation community this is HERALDED as The Worst Ending. It is the flagship of disappointment.

It disappointed people who loved the magical world the show took place in. It disappointed people who wanted to see Star reach her potential. It disappointed every shipper of every ship, not that I ever cared for the romance dramas but they took a lot of screentime on the show to its detriment. It disappointed people who like to apply basic logic to the things they watch. What a disaster!

Okay so why is it so hated?

Well, Star had been on the decline for a while. It had a fantastic start to season 3, with a great big war for Mewnie where everyone had great character moments, Star died and came back to life and utterly annihilated the villain. Toffee was a great villain, by the way.

There had been a bit of romantic tension between Star and Marco and they both had crushes on each other but refused to ever admit it and Marco thought he was into some other girl, and Star let him go at the start of season 3 and started dating... her ex... this shitty guy called Tom... he's a good character but a terrible boyfriend who kind of suicide baits Star back into his life. And Star would become a terrible girlfriend. I dunno, people really thought that pairing would be endgame but it was clear to me it was just an artificial obstacle in the way of the inevitable Starco ship. Like Kelly. Who Marco dates for a whopping half an episode before they break up offscreen. Great?

Anyway the romance in this series is on the same tier as Korra, though it does try to build up its endgame pairing from the start.

But from season 3 onwards Marco felt more like a joke character. I don't know, they didn't treat him with much respect.

The thing that EVERYONE TALKS ABOUT with Star, oh god it's going to be the longest thing on this list, is Moon and Eclipsa and Mina and the atrocious decisions the characters made.

I'm going to bullet point it so it's vaguely readable:

Star's mother, Queen Moon, goes missing following the events of the start of s3 special.

Star learns that the throne was stolen from monster-fucker Eclipsa and wrongly given to her own family line so she gives the crown to Eclipsa, to great controversy. Eclipsa is a dark magic user who is 300 years old and she's pretty cool but the show takes a sharp turn from this point to being about a racial conflict - Monsters being discriminated against by Mewmans and how a lot of people want to keep it that way.

The council which was previously on the side of good really HATES this decisionn and is now portrayed as bad.

Conflict breaks out and people are against Eclipsa and her giant person-eating husband leading the kingdom.

People have their homes given back to the monsters that they were stolen from hundreds of years ago. It's a silly cartoon form of reparations but it is shown giving them hardship because they are made homeless. By the way nobody in history has been made homeless because of reparations.

These homeless or disgruntled mewmans find Moon, who has re-emerged and decided to stay away from the kingdom. They want their old queen back and side with her, and she thinks they need someone to represent them. She also hates Eclipsa for various reasons.

Moon decides the best way to deal with Eclipsa is to arm the biggest fascist monster-killing character in the world with an invincible undefeatable army of magic soldiers, and retake the kingdom and go to war against the side her own daughter is on.

Moon gets a surprised pikachu face when she realises she can't undo the spell she used to make this fascist evil super army.

Star decides the best way to resolve this is to delete all magic. Kill it. They go to the source of all magic and use a spell to kill everything there. Lots of reindeer die.

Then every magical thing in the universe gets deleted. Every single magic-born creature. The entire council is murdered. All of the creatures in Star's magic wand die. Countless portals to other worlds are closed down, meaning many of the characters can no longer go and see their friends anymore. This is directly shown, by the way - not just inferred.

Somehow, Ponyhead survives.

Then this is capped off by Marco and Star wanting to reunite... and in a scene that is supposed to be emotional, they cleave their universes together. Mewnie lands on top of Earth. Normal humans are screaming as they are chased around by giant creatures.

The story ends.

Yeah do I have to explain any more why this one was unpopular? It's the biggest fumble you can speak of.

My biggest issue is how dumb they had to make Moon in order to achieve this outcome.

But Starco is kind of cute, even if Marco wasn't half the character he used to be by the end.

3. Homestuck: Which ending do you want me to discuss? Act 6? The epilogues? Or HS^2?

Let's start with the main work, as that's what makes Homestuck qualify as an animation.

Act 6 was a vast disappointment because it sort of ended. We had so much talking for so long that we were hoping something cool would happen and then we got a flash where the characters hit each other with sticks. There were no stakes in Collide, not really.

Then we got the Frog flash. We watched a frog for 8 minutes.

Then that was it!

There were so many unanswered questions. What the hell happened to the final boss and the MAIN CAST, for example. We had learnt earlier in the story that in some point of the future, the main cast all get stuck in a little homestuck house which Vriska fires at Lord English. But we never learn when, we never learn if they're ok, we never learn if English is killed or what happens to Vriska. So for a long time there was this disturbing implication that the cast would all die not long after the series ended.

We had the Credits which were much better but further solidified this implication, and it had Terezi fly out into the void looking for Vriska forever, which made me sad and depressed but that was because of my personal involvement in the story really.

Act 6 is more of a "mistakes were made" ending, but it's the Epilogues and HS^2, and the actions of creator Andrew Hussie, which are why it's rock bottom here.

I don't want to give my breath to those items. Let's just say they were the most meanspirited, intentionally offensive, hostile, character-destroying sets of stories every done, created by people who accused every homestuck fan who didn't like them of being "not really trans" or "pedophile harborors" or "deserving to be lined up and shot" (real quote).

And then the fact Hussie fired his entire crew twice and blacklisted them if he ever had any suspicion they complained about his leadership or financial decisions anywhere.

And the fact the entire whatpumpkin team were left uncredited in the original release of Hiveswap Act 2 because Hussie didn't want to give them any credit because he wants his friends to be a hivemind.

I have so much hatred for what Homestuck became. It's tragic because this series was such a big part of my life for so long.

It's also tragic because the main work is a masterpiece. Even Act 7, despite the criticism, is Guzusuru's masterwork with how much effort went into the animation. How much heart went into each illustration the old Paradox Space team made.

So that's it. Homestuck is the one that is not just a little bit worse than Star. Leaps and bounds worse.

But that's it. I have a lot of opinions on endings because they can colour how you view the entire previous work.

[missriddle03]

heyyy baby how are you i loved you matt story anddd i have request but for chris like reader did video with the triplets car video and like fans start to notice how he is always looking at you like that AND THANK YOUU

hello!!!! im good thanks for asking, wbu? tysmm for saying that :) this took me longer than i thought but seeing as you are my first request ever i wanted to do it properlly. hope u like it <3 @lovetaylorrussellgrr

Title: Favourite girl

parings: fem! reader (y/n) x chris sturniolo

small synopsis: have a look at the request

time to read: 6mins and 30 seconds (average)

word count: 1,449k words

warnings: none :) just a cute fluffy read

song recommended: favourite girl by justin beiber (loosley based on it) p.s i've not listened to it but it came up on yt and thought it would be good to use it for this

The moonlit sky was a pretty sight to see but you and the triplets didn’t see much of it as all of you were getting ready to film a car video. Nick sat in the back next to you whilst Matt and Chris were in their usual seats.

“Hello, hello, hello!” Nick spoke to the camera. You were looking at your phone but put it away once you saw they were recording. “So, we haven’t got a proper idea of today’s video but we have asked you guys to ask us some questions! even though most of them are about y/n”

To that, you let out a small laugh. “I can’t help if I'm a fan favourite”

Chris turned his attention to you and smiled. “You’re everyone’s favourite” Silence followed his statement until Matt decided to talk. “We each have pulled up our instagram responses and now we are going to go through them together” Nick picked up a pair of glasses and put them on his head, he found a pair that was heart shaped and handed them to you as you placed them onto your eyes. Nick took his phone out and took a quick selfie with you. “Okay! First question, who did y/n meet first?” Matt asked as he put his phone away.

A huge smile formed on Nick’s face waiting for your response. You hugged Nick before you spoke, “I met Nick first in school but then he introduced me to Chris and Matt last. Chris and Matt had different classes to me and Nick” you explained. Chris took his phone out to read a question, “Would y/n rather kiss Matt or Chris?” He turned his head to you staring. “There is no way I’m answering that” you protested. Your eyes darted between Chris and Matt but stopped at Chris before rolling your eyes and looking at your phone. You swore you heard Chris say something but if he did it was too quiet.

“Waffles, french toast or pancakes” you grinned at the reference. All of a sudden Nick began shouting. “NO! Not again..I am not dealing with this. This was dealt with and forgotten about, we will not be bringing that up again. NEXT QUESTION!” All three of you laughed as Nick said that. “Okay..okay, so three words that describe you”

Nick spoke first, “Awesome, funny and stylish” You nodded your head in agreement. “I think I’m cool, maybe funny too and the best driver ever” Matt said.

“No cause like, I tried passing my test but I failed on one thing because a car zoomed past me and I was meant to see it but they failed me cause I didn’t go but I can’t go when a car is going over the speed limit” you said. “They should have passed you,” Matt replied.

“I would say I’m actually the funniest, the hottest and a Pepsi enthusiast” Chris put his fingers up like mini finger guns and winked, you couldn’t help but laugh. Meanwhile, Matt and Nick stared at each other again. “How are we related to this guy?” Matt joked. “I guess I would say I’m creative, weird and very smart” You finally answered.

This went on and on for a while, constantly answering questions; “Okay, are you all single?” Matt spoke. Nick and Matt immediately nodded their heads not wanting any edits about them hesitating. “Yes I am single and I like the single life” you answered. Chris was hesitating his answer but all of you knew he was single. “Yeah I am too..for now”

“Is there someone in your life that you like then?” You asked him, he rubbed his hands together and looked at you. “Yeah perhaps there is but she don’t like me like that I don’t think”

“Well if she doesn’t then she doesn’t see how great you are, she obviously isn’t worth your time” you told him. A twinge of jealousy overcame you but you didn’t know why you felt that way, why were you jealous that Chris likes someone? Why was his confession so important to you?

“That is all we have for today’s Friday car video. We hope you enjoyed it,” Nick spoke to the camera. Chris was looking at his hands as he was picking his fingers, Matt took the camera and gave it a big kiss before turning it off. “Do you wanna stay over tonight?” Chris asked you. Matt offered her a snack that was in his car door, you took it and accepted the offer to stay over.

The next week, you told Marylou that you were going to surprise the triplets with a pizza seeing as you went to the UK with your friend for a week and didn’t tell them how long you were going away for. Matt’s car was in their driveway and once you gained the confidence you walked over to the car knocking on the door. You saw them all look at you before opening the door, “Did someone order a pizza?” you said with a smile. You placed the boxes in the car seat next to Nick and then you saw Chris open his car door and give you a hug. “y/n! There’s my favourite girl. I missed you, how have you been?” he asked. He didn’t let go..not just yet. “I’ve been good I wanted to surprise you guys cause I didn’t tell you that I was going to the UK”

Now he let go of the hug once he saw Nick and Matt get out of the car. They each gave you a smile and all of you went into a group hug, “The pizza I got you guys was a meat feast pizza, I made sure I got 2 because I know Nick doesn’t like too much meat on his pizza”

“Thank you so much y/n, I love you,” Nick said. “I’ll wait inside so you guys can finish your video” You said to the guys. Chris waved at you and the boys went back into the car and began eating the pizza.

They shortly came in and you opened your tiktok, your inbox being flooded with tags in edits. A majority of them were you and Chris edits. You decided to open one up, the audio was ‘idfc’ by blackbear. It contained video clips of when you’re talking and Chris looks at you, moments where you’re just standing and he is still looking at you. Every moment where you smiled and he smiled straight away. You swore he never looked at you that much, you remembered some of the videos used were from the video you featured in last time. All the comments were saying how oblivious you were and how you must be dating each other. You looked at another clip and it was dated for today, posted only half an hour ago titled ‘how he talks about her’

“Y/n is not in this video today as she is away with her friend in the UK. I’m not sure when she is getting back but she deserves a little break. I know we have had a lot of messages asking how she is and when she will be in our videos next but we don’t have a definite answer for you guys. I do wish that she was in this video with us but like I said she deserves a break. She works so hard, harder than anyone I know and I’m glad she’s taking some time off even if it’s only for a little while”

You never told them how long you would be away for, when you did go on a mini break you received a message from Chris nearly everyday. You were brought back into reality when Chris sat down next to you, with a smile on his face. “Watcha watching?”

You turned your phone off, “Nothing important,”

“So, I was thinking we could maybe watch a movie. Not sure if Nick and Matt will but we could always have microwave popcorn. Only if you want to of course”

“Sure..why not,”

You weren’t really watching the movie, just focusing on the thoughts in your head. You didn’t want to jump to conclusions but were you the girl he liked? Maybe you felt something for him too…just maybe.

He gave you the popcorn bowl, “I wasn’t sure what you wanted so I mixed the sweet and salted together” Chris was on your opposite side, manspreading with his hands in his jogger pockets. You swore you saw him occasionally looking at you, after all he did say you were his favourite girl.

“Are you okay?” he asked you.

“Yeah, Chris, I am,”

also..should i do a prt 2 the confession???

[sapphic-kpop-fics]

yunjin nsfw alphabet??

A = Aftercare (what they're like after sex)

Jen is a big kind softie we know this so she helps clean you up if needed and then cuddles you for hours.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner's)

Her legs and Her fingers, they have one thing in common: Long, need i explain

She’s a boob girl, change my mind. Oral fixation on your chest.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

Loves tasting you more than anything and will eat for out for hours simply so she can taste you.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

Wears your clothes when you’re apart and she has to touch herself to get off

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they're doing?)

Yes 100%

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

Yunjin needs you to ride her every week for her mental health (her words)

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

This is the Huh Yunjin we’re talking about, the goofiest human alive, of course that translates into your sex life, nights in bed definitely involve a lot of giggling

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

Not fully shaved but well kept, girl dyes her hair every month of course it doesn’t match

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

The most romantic and loving human being ever, expect 100% romance

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

She will if you’re apart from each other for too long but prefers having you, if she does she’ll usually call or text you during because she simply needs you in some form to finish.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

She strikes me as the type to like choking you, like I said she likes her fingers especially wrapped around your neck. Also a praise kink, loves being told she’s fucking you good.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

Your bed so she can easily have her way with you but the shower is also a favorite of hers especially pressing your soapy body against the wall as she fucks you.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

Literally just being in your presence and looking at you, anytime you’re around she’s immediately turned on. A lover girl for real. But especially when you compliment her and her talents.

N = No (something they wouldn't do, turn offs)

Doesn’t want to hit you or hurt you too bad, maybe some spanking but anything on the face is off limits. Also anything you don’t want is something she doesn’t want.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

Oh, god of pussy eating. Have you seen that face? Those lips? Incredible. Makes you finish is minutes. Gets pussy drunk often and eats you out for hours no matter how sensitive you are.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

Usually fast and rough however she gets romantic and slow often making sure to switch things up.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

Enjoys them when really horny at the wrong times or in between music shows but she likes to go 3 rounds minimum which isn’t very quick.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

Will try anything you want to try but makes boundaries clear.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

She can last a while usually though she has moments where she cums in minutes. Definitely has big stamina when it comes to rounds, as I said 3 minimum but sometimes she fucks you for 5+ hours.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

Absolutely, a few probably. Specifically a strap (we all know my thoughts on strap Yunjin 🤤)

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

The biggest tease usually, unless she’s being intimate and romantic then she gives you whatever you want.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

She strikes me as a not loud in a volume way but just talks a lot (girls a yapper we knew). Little sighs and moans are the most she makes when receiving along with heavy breathing.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

Loves cockwarming (well strap warming but also when she’s wearing it, that is her dick for sure.)

X= X-ray (let's see what's going on under those clothes)

As we can tell from pictures, legs/thighs are insane (a great place to ride), boobs….if I speak.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

Very high. Will fuck you anytime you ask.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

Pretty quickly but makes sure you’re okay and taken care of first, cleaning you up and helping you put on some clothes before you both pass out.

[bustybounty]

You thought it'd be funny to spike the punch bowl with a bit of growth hormones and seeing everyone squirm in their tightening clothes during prom, but your class' bully spotted you. She took the bowl and made constant eyecontact while chugging the entire thing. She wasn't gonna let you leave prom early until she had her fun,though with the libido enhancers that were in the punch aswell, that might take a while.

Turns out I never felt more attracted to that bully of mine than now. She quickly went from someone I didn't like to someone I was actively making love with, as she literally got taller, hornier, wetter, making a puddle all over her swelling, lengthening legs, not to mention growing thicker and curvier all around, this growth hormone being potent enough, and in such quantities due to how much she drank, that she was literally blowing all her clothes up into smithereens, into tiny scraps of cloth that no one would care to clean up.

Sure enough this party, with the high libidos running rampant, would turn into something more akin to an orgy, with all these men and women testing their new swollen bodies on each other, especially on whoever they took to prom, but not limited to just them, depending on the pairing... foursomes were very notably there, as everything became confused, surprised, and finally devolved into pure, untapped debauchery that would be unreachable, even for this place's levels, without some form of arousal boosting compound.

I didn't expect it to be this strong, and while I was aware of the high libido it caused, I didn't think they'd all turn to fuck each other, not caring they were in public, as everyone else was practically suffering the same fate as them...

While I didn't take any of the drink, not wanting to prank myself, my own libido was obscenely large and made up for it as it was probably ten times higher than the normal sexual needs for anyone in the building before they 'transformed'.

Watching my former bully become this tall, beautiful, amazonian-esque, voluptuous, curvaceous, bodacious, delicious woman was making ME very noticeably horny down there as well.

With her pressing me against the wall, her tits smothering me, I knew this was just the beginning of how she'd dominate me, put my body through the ropes for an entire night, if not longer, making this experience even more worthwile than it would be if it had only resulted in some embarrassed chaos like I initially expected.

Though now was no time to think of it, as my mind was going blank with the first of many orgasms this massive, still swelling bully was giving me, she truly was bullying my nervous system by bombarding it with too much pleasure at once, something even my horny levels struggled to handle...

Damn...I'm gonna start pulling this prank at every single reunion I have from now on... <3

[uroboros55]

so hey hi, i present to you the shortest cartetgigi fic, sb in carlos discord joked about caco waiting for the trio to finish kissing so they could take the pic with fire extinguisher and here we are now...

pls caco we are still waiting for the pic

Caco is going to kill his cousin.

Just straight up go to him and kill him. His uncle will understand why Caco did it, and so will his aunt. They know how dealing with Carlos Jr. is.

Caco loves his cousin. He and Carletes were brought up together, and they were always close to each other in a way only two boys surrounded by a sea of sisters can be. Carlos always supported Caco, and Caco did the same to his cousin, even when Carlos did not believe in himself as much as his family did.

Carletes was always like a younger brother to Caco. He was always the small thing close to Caco and his friends, who wanted to feel included. Caco still remembers how some of the boys made fun of how close he was to his cousin, how they tried to make fun of Carlos, or take his kindness and use it to their advantage. Caco made sure they were no longer close to his family. He has always been protective of Carlos, and it did not change even when they grew up and Carletes started to be his own person and made his place in Formula 1.

Caco still remembers when his uncle sat him down while Carletes was still a scrawny kid, fighting in go-karts, and told him how other kids made fun of him and used Carlos's kindness to push him off. His uncle, the El Matador in the family, asks his teenage nephew to look out for his younger cousin. Caco just puffed at that, already looking out for his brother. He never stopped doing that. He was there for him during the happy times, and the bad times, he hugged and picked him up after each time, he fought for him during Toro Rosso days, and in that Renault, he made sure that McLaren was ready for Carlos, and he made sure that Ferrari deal was good to go before Carlos signed the contract. He also picked his cousin up when they had to go from Ferrari to Williams, not losing the optimist and trying to make sure Carlos would get a place he could stay for longer.

But right now, he wants to kill Carlos. He is pretty sure he could do it without anyone noticing.

Despite the p3, Caco is pissed. At the race, the clownery the red team did, at Charles for acting like a crybaby, at the media, and at the fans for only talking about the drama. He has spent at least an hour talking with the social media team, trying to control the damage, he sat down with Silvia and decided what to do to let fans know that yes C2 is okay and still good. He had to listen to Fred talk with his French accent and act like he cares about the red team, cause Carlos never burns bridges, even though Caco had some ideas on how to destroy Ferrari before they go to Williams.

He did all that while Carlos hid in his driver’s room with his fucking boyfriends.

And not, the fact that he has a boyfriend is not a problem, neither is the fact that it’s not one but two. The problem is that Caco did all he had to do, and he wants his fricking photo with the fire extinguisher. And he cannot do that while Carlos and the trophy and half of their team are gone.

Caco did call the three of them a few times and left a bunch of angry messages in the group chat and in private chats. He learned his lesson a long time ago when he got into the room to see Carlos getting freaky with his partners. He loves his cousin but even he has his limits. And seeing Carlos like that is a big fat no from Caco.

He knows Teto from Carlos's karting days. One of the few of those scrawny kids who never took advantage of Carlos, instead making sure Carlos was okay and that he knew he had someone on the track who had his back. Carlos's calm is the opposite of Teto’s fire, the way he is always ready to protect his close one. The way Carlos is always diplomatic and tries to mediate contrasts with how unapologetic loud and passionate Teto is. Teto never forgets somebody who did something wrong to Carlos, and he might be one of the few people outside of the Sainz family that Caco trusts 100%. It was no surprise when Teto and Carlos finally got how much they wanted to be together and figured it out.

Carlos was smitten from the first time he saw Teto, but it took them almost 10 years to figure it out. Even longer to act on his feelings, to allow himself to have it while still being in Formula 1, in the spotlight, when one bad move could end his career.

And Caco was ready for the moment when somebody tried to make use of that fact about Carlos and Teto, about their love. He was ready to fight and bite and make sure his cousin and Teto would be alright even if they wouldn’t come out on their own terms.

And Caco likes Teto. He likes how Carlos is happy with him, and how he makes sure Carlos has his support system outside of the Sainz family. How he knows Carlos so well he just knows what to do even before Carlos asks for it.

So, when he sees the longing looks between his cousin and the new trainer he got when Rupert changed his teams, Caco is a little bit shocked. He knows that Teto and Carlos are going strong, that they are still very much in love if the amount of times Teto is around anything to go by. But the way Carlos looks at Pierluigi, the way the trainer's hands tend to rest on Carlos makes Caco feel uneasy.

So, he says something.

“I hope you know what you are doing,” he says to Carlos, while the two of them sit in the villa in Mallorca. Most of the Sainz family went to bed, and Caco and Carlos still sitting outside, the dogs asleep close to them.

“Hm?” asks Carlos, not really following what Caco is talking about. He looks a little bit like that kid that used to follow Caco around, with the old Senior shirt on, in swim trunks still on him, shoes long forgotten. If Caco thinks hard enough he can hear his mom and aunt Reyes screaming at Carlos to wear some flip-flops and stop bringing dirt into their house. Mallorca makes Carlos look softer like he is still a child, maybe a teenager, and not a 30-year-old man.

 “I get that Gigi is a good guy. A great one even. For fuck’s sake he is going with us to Williams. But he is no Teto, remember Carletes,” says Caco, taking a sip from his beer. It’s a little too warm for his taste, but he won’t complain now.

Carlos does not answer for a while. He plays with the label on his bottle, the tick he had ever since he started drinking. Caco is pretty sure he won’t reply when he finally hears his cousin's calm voice.

“It’s not like that with Gigi,” he starts, still not looking up from his bottle. “Me and Teto… we would never do anything to hurt each other. You know it. I love him. But I also love Gigi. And Gigi loves me back. And even before all of that happened, it was Teto who brought it up. He was the one who talked with both of us. And I was so afraid of all of it, that I would wake up one day and both of them would leave me or tell me that I’m disgusting that I cannot choose, and why can’t I be normal. I always thought that something was wrong with me you know this.”

Caco is speechless. He lets Carlos speak.

“But we talked. And they are both happy with our case. They do not think I'm disgusting or that I am some kind of freak. And they are so good to me, and I think I might love both of them and I need you Caco to be okay with it cause I'm not going to leave them or just pretend I don’t love them and I'm sorry,” and while Carlos speaks, he is breathing louder and louder, and Caco knows he is close to crying. His little cousin was always way too gentle for the world. Never learned how to bite. But he was also never afraid to be himself.

So Caco does the only thing he can do. He gets closer to Carlos, hugs him, and kisses his big ass forehead. Carlos hugs him back and cries quietly on his shoulder. It’s not a happy cry, more like a cleansing one, Caco can feel the tension leaving Carlos's shoulder while he sobs.

And when they go back to the real world, Carlos is acting more… freely. He lets himself blush and smile around both Gigi and Teto, he seems to smile more and spends more and more time on his bike and going out, instead of sitting at home, trying to forget that he will be at the back of the grid next year.

And Caco can see how both Gigi and Teto take care of Carlos. In how gentle Gigi is with him, and how Teto always makes sure Carlos is not too much in his head. How Gigi hugs him even more than ever, knowing how much Carlos depends on the physical touch. And how Teto makes Carlos laugh so much. How both of them are working like a well-oiled machine to make sure Carlos is okay.

Unfortunately, that little shit, who sometimes is called Caco’s cousin has gotten way too comfortable. Caco has lost count of how many times has he found Carlos with either of his partners in compromising positions, or even worse with both of them. Once he was let into Carlos's room by Teto while Gigi and Carlos were taking a shower. Caco still shudders when he remembers that.

He even posts on his social media that the long-awaited photo is a work in progress before calling Carlos for the 2194399494 times since he went with Gigi and Teto. He does not pick up, and Caco is getting ready to go and see whatever is going on in Carlos's room when finally, he sees Teto around the corner. Soon after he follows Gigi and Carlos.

For fuck’s sake. Carlos looks like got fucked all the way to Friday. His hair is disheveled, and his big lips look even bigger and redder like somebody spent a long time biting them. He also has a shirt that not only is on the left side but also does not look like Carlos's shirt at all. Caco is pretty sure it's Gigi’s, given how loose it's in the bicep. And that dopy look on his face, like he already forgot about the shit show that has been this race.

Gigi’s hair is also tousled, but at least he looks presentable. The same could be said about Teto’s whose hair looks as good as ever (Caco is a little bit salty about it. He mostly has gray hair by now, while Teto’s lion's mane is still as glorious as ever).

“Fucking finally, I have been calling for at least half an hour,” exclaims Caco, putting the phone in his pocket. “We need to make the photo and then finally go, vamos!”

When his cousin finally passes him, Caco can see the big hickeys no makeup or clothing will hide. His neck looks like he was attacked by wild animals.

Caco will kill his cousin.

[khaire-traveler]

Hello there! I'm very new to hellenic polytheism and came across a question that I am not sure how to approach. I would be really grateful if you could let me know your thoughts on this (please don't feel obligated or anything, tho. I know I am just a random person asking a random question 🫣). So, for a while now, I've been getting more into greek mythology and from there into fandoms that depict the deities (e.g. Epic the musical which I love a lot). Would you say it is inappropriate to seek out fanfiction or fanart (especially those including ships) in those fandoms, or should I refrain from doing that as it would be disrespectful? Or are there limits I should be aware of? Thank you so much should you choose to answer this 💜 (I apologise for missing paragraphs. I am not sure how to do those on mobile.) (Also, is there a right way to end these kinds of letters/messages/questions? Like a way to express my gratefulness?) (Sorry if none of this makes sense. I always get anxious messaging strangers, but I couldn't find answers anywhere, so I thought I'd just ask🫣)

Khaire, Melie!

Ah, yes. The age-old question. How sinful is fanfiction, exactly? /joke (wanted to start this off light-hearted)

In all seriousness, I'll start with this: If you want to know how the gods feel about it, ask them. There is no better answer than the one that comes directly from the source. I understand the nerves around asking this question; some Hellenic Polytheists feel VERY strongly about it, and honestly, seeing their strong opinions has made me doubt my own interests in such media. Remember that some rando's opinion online, however, isn't the law, regardless of how strongly they feel about it or how desperately they want you to do exactly what they're doing. Opinions are opinions; facts are facts - they are separate things. Personally - and this is MY opinion -I think never engaging with modern media depicting the gods is a little too strict of an approach, and by following that, I feel that a lot of people are banning themselves from engaging with fictional media that they might enjoy. Each piece of modern media about the gods is a creative interpretation of Greek mythology, and people have been doing this kind of thing with other religions - that they don't believe in - for AGES. It's entirely normal, even if it is kind of annoying sometimes. Now, some retellings, games, shows, etc. genuinely take things too far, in my opinion, and warp the mythology so completely that it might as well be a different story entirely. I'm bordering on a tangent, so I'll move on.

Modern media about the gods isn't an inherently abhorrent, evil thing that should always be avoided, however, but personally, I do draw the line of engagement at shipping.

First and foremost, live your life the way you want to. Engage with your practice however you wish. I'm not the law-maker of this religion - no one is - and while I might disagree with someone's approach, I'm not going to shit all over them for doing things differently from myself. Now, into my opinion. I don't think shipping gods - be it from a modern form of media or not - that you worship is appropriate, personally. In my experience, it will blur your actual perception of those gods. I've seen it happen over and over again that people confuse the fictional representation of their God in media with the actual god, then feel the need to distance themselves from the media in order to regain something they feel that they lost. Like I said, you do whatever you wish, but I find it's just better to avoid the awkwardness of shipping entirely.

If you want to read fanfiction about the gods in fictional media, go for it, but I'm not personally a big fan of that. I don't know how the gods feel about it; I can't speak for them (no one can). For all I know, they could be reading the fanfiction themselves and laughing their asses off, who knows? But as a worshipper, I'm not personally comfortable with the idea of reading it. Again, do what you want with your life. If you want to read some spicy fanfic of one god with another, I'm literally not going to stop you, but make sure you're able to separate the fictional characters from the gods you actually worship before you do so - that's my advice. Too often, people end up conflating the two. When a fandom or fanfiction begins affecting your worship, practice, or even just the way you view the gods, that's when it's a problem.

I think the community has been torn on the topic of modern media for a while. Some people love it, while others utterly despise it, and you'll notice that answers will vary from person to person. In my opinion, these pieces of media become problematic when they swarm the fuck out of a small religious community that already struggles to be taken seriously. An example of this is what happened with Lore Olympus a while back. When the comic got popular, a ton of people would swarm and attack worshippers of Apollo online, calling them all sorts of extremely vile things, all because of a comic that literally wasn't even mythologically accurate. In my opinion, fandoms can get out of control sometimes, and when you're engaging with one based around the gods, I advise you to just be careful and aware. For some people, fanart and fanfiction of the gods are extremely uncomfortable, similarly to if someone were to ship Buddha with Jesus in the regard that it just...feels weird for people who actually worship those figures. Other people could care less, being able to fully separate the fictional characters from the gods they worship. Base it on your comfort, and the comfort of your gods.

I hope this helped to give you my perspective. I'm not going to tell you what is or isn't the right choice because honestly, different people will give you a different answer, and I'm anything but a religious authority. You're allowed to do as you wish, but I will always advise you to tread with caution and check in with yourself about how it feels for you personally. Reach out to your gods and directly ask them (such as through tarot, or another form of divination), "Hey, how do you feel about me engaging with this?" Asking directly is ALWAYS a good idea, in my experience. Take care, Melie. 🧡

[izzyy-stuff]

hi!! this is for the 300 bash 💗 congrats!! it’s a huge milestone and i can’t wait to read more of ur work!!

could you write about yeonjun and the reader being castmates in an upcoming drama? they grow close because they spend so much time together, maybe they practice a kiss scene in the dressing room (even though no one asked them to) and it goes a little off-script…

when it’s time to promote it, they fake date to get the drama trending and that’s when they realise they really like each other!!!

hehehe idk ive been thinking about this a bunch and it’s driving me crazy

𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐋 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐘𝐎𝐔 - 𝐂𝐇𝐎𝐈 𝐘𝐄𝐎𝐍𝐉𝐔𝐍

Actor!Yeonjun x fem!reader

in which Choi Yeonjun really messes with your head when he suggest you fake a relationship with him to promote your upcoming drama

wc 2k

warnings kissing, lot's of flirting

↪ izzy speaks... okay I loved this idea. I do feel like some of the parts are a bit rushed since I had to fit it in my word limit, but I think it's still good :3 this is NOT proofread by the way

event post | event masterlist

“And…cut!” You hear the director’s voice and breathe out, your lips slightly shaking. It feels like you’ve breathed for the first time in forever, but at the same time, you still feel like you can’t breathe. It’s his fault. Everything is his fault. 

“Hey, are you feeling–” your co-star – Choi Yeonjun starts, but before he can finish his sentence, you’re backing off from him, excusing yourself to go to the bathroom. 

You run away as fast as possible, locking yourself in your dressing room before anyone can stop you. You slide on the closed door, pulling your knees to your head and closing your eyes, trying to calm yourself down. Stupid Yeonjun. Stupid show. Stupid, stupid, stupid– “Stupid kiss,” you mumble, your cheeks red. 

How did all of this even happen, you wonder? It’s simple. It all started when Choi Yeonjun, the prettiest guy you’ve ever met, decided to charm you and do everything in his power to make you question your feelings for him. 

♡⸝⸝ 

A few days ago

“The trailer for part one has been released.” You look up from the script in your hands, locking eyes with your co-star who had brought the news to you. “Really? We have to watch it together!” You beam, automatically getting a smile on his face. He nods, sliding into the chair next to you as he takes out his phone. “I saw a bit already. You’re gorgeous in it.” Blush creeps up your face, and you can’t look in his direction. “What? Don’t you believe me?” He whispers, and you can practically hear the smirk on his face as he leans in closer. 

“Turn on the trailer,” you whisper, sounding more desperate than you would want to. Yeonjun chuckles, “Alright, sweetheart,” leaving his lips as he straightens his back again. 

You do your best to focus on the video playing on Yeonjun’s phone, but the boy beside you makes it much harder. His black mullet fits him perfectly, and you might as well admit he is the most handsome guy you have worked with. You can’t keep your eyes off him, barely paying attention to the trailer. He would have to be blind not to notice you. 

“See? You were stunning,” he grins, turning his phone off again. You snap out of your thoughts, averting your gaze. You feel his eyes on you, swallowing a lump in your throat before you look at him again. “Can we rehearse a bit?” He asks suddenly, and you have to blink to assure yourself you aren’t just hallucinating. “Which..scene?” you ask confusedly. He smirks, pulling your chair from the table and turning it so you would face him. 

“I had a great time today,” Yeonjun recites one of his scenes. You’re too caught up in the moment to mentally go over all the scenes and figure out how your line goes, so you stay still in your place, waiting for what’s to come. He reaches for your hand, bringing it to his lips and kissing your fingers softly. 

“Yeonjun,” his name falls from your lips in an instant, making the scene much more genuine than it should be. His eyes meet yours, and he leans closer to you. He whispers your name right next to your ear, sending shivers all over your body. “And then they kiss,” he continues in the script. “Right,” you mumble, but before you can say anything else, one of his hands is on your waist while the other holds your face, pulling you in for a kiss. 

Your eyes widen, your body freezing. You’re not sure what to do. A part of you wants to reciprocate the kiss, kiss him until you won’t be able to breathe anymore, but you know you shouldn’t. Still, your lips move on their own. You give in. As you close your eyes, you feel even closer to him. Just for a little bit, you tell yourself. 

Yeonjun is the first to pull away, a small smile that almost passes unnoticed by you on his lips. “And cut,” he mumbles, crushing every scenario your mind created in the short moment. “Cut,” you repeat after him, refusing to look him in the eyes. 

♡⸝⸝ 

You’ve been trying to avoid him since. You weren’t sure how long you could keep going. Every time you locked eyes with him, you could only think about the kiss. You saw him right in front of you. Every movement of his stayed in your mind, and you couldn’t seem to get it out. He was like a virus. 

“I’m coming in!” You hear your co-start behind the door, panicking immediately. You think of locking the door, but before you can get up from the floor and do so, you stumble as he opens the door and hits you. “Shit, I’m sorry. Are you okay?” He worries, running to you as if you were on the verge of dying. 

“I’m alright, it’s fine,” you assure him. “The door barely touched me.” Yeonjun sighs, shaking his head at you. You’re not sure why. “That’s good,” he slightly nods. “I wanted to check up on you. You’ve been…” he looks around as if to make sure you were the only ones in there. “Acting strange lately. Ever since the ki–” he starts, but you interrupt him before he can finish his sentence, not wanting to get reminded. “Strange? No, I haven’t been strange at all! Maybe I’m a bit worried about the rest of the filming, that’s all.” 

“Are you sure?” The anxiety in his voice breaks your heart. It destroys you because whenever he looks at you like this, so genuinely, he gives you hope. “Will you be okay during today’s interview?” Your eyes widen. Fuck. You forgot about the interview. 

“Uhm, yeah, definitely,” you nod. “Okay,” he nods too. “The director and I had talked about our promotion strategy, so I need you in the right mind.” You question him with your eyes, a wave of worry washing over you when you see him smirk. “We are going to fool the public eye,” he explains. “And pretend that we are dating. It will attract more viewers. They’ll want to know what our relationship is like behind the cameras.” 

You swear you must have hit your head when you ran here. There was no way. Absolutely not– how could you? You couldn’t play his girlfriend even if you wanted to– “I see. Okay,” you agree. Great. Just how stupid are you? “That makes sense, I guess.” 

“Okay,” he smiles at you, and for a second, you don’t regret your decision at all. “Great,” he nods. He stays still for a second afterward, and it’d be obvious to anyone that he wants to say something. He sighs, speaking his mind. “Are you sure we’re okay?” 

You chuckle, nodding. “Yeah, we are.” And you mean it. You’re as okay as you can be at the moment. If it stays that way once you start pretending you’re his girlfriend is a different thing. 

♡⸝⸝ 

“We actually worked on…a surprise,” Yeonjun admits, teasing one of his upcoming projects as he answers a question for the WIRED interview about how he and Soobin, one of his close friends, met. “But you will have to wait for that.” You smile, watching him talk. 

You remember the look on his face when he told you about the song they were making a few weeks ago, unable to hold back your smile. You don’t even notice him revealing another question on the board. Instead, you snap out of your thoughts when you hear him answering. 

“Ideal type…” his eyes drift to your figure, and he thinks for a second before looking back at the camera again, smirking. “I’d say it’s someone who gets me. Someone smart, who could be there for me and I could admire. Someone who gets as excited for me as if my achievement was theirs,” he smiles, your cheeks flushing red when you notice his eyes on you. “Safe answer,” you joke, trying to brush the tickling feeling in your stomach off as you avert your gaze. “Then maybe,” he starts, leaning closer. “I should use the not-so-safe answer and remind everyone what your name is.” 

You freeze, swallowing a lump in your throat. Then you remember. He doesn’t mean any of the things he says. He doesn’t like you, and you definitely aren’t his type. You bite your bottom lip, remembering his idea of this fake relationship. You knew this was coming. You didn’t expect it this soon, though. 

“Oh, come on,” you gently push him back, rolling your eyes playfully. It pains you how unreal you sound, and you’re sure anyone with eyes will see through you. Still, you don’t back down. “You’re here to promote our drama, not flirt with me,” you mumble with a smile. Yeonjun chuckles, spreading his legs apart and resting his back against the chair. “Shit,” you mumble quietly, hoping the microphone doesn’t catch your words. He is hot. Too hot. 

“I can do both, don’t worry, sweetheart,” he teases, glancing at the cameraman before his eyes land on your lips, carefully watching you. You definitely won’t be able to air this. You hesitate, rethinking if it’s worth it. They won’t air your kiss. They’ll definitely cut it out, so why bother pretending to that extent? Except maybe you aren’t pretending. You lean closer to him, catching him off guard when you connect your lips. You hear the direct cough, reminding you you’re not alone, but you don’t care. And it looks like Yeonjun doesn’t care either as he pulls you closer. 

There it is again. The weird feeling in your stomach that makes your heart skip a beat. It feels almost dangerous. The speed at which your heart is beating and the way you’re getting addicted to his lips. 

“Okay, cut the cameras!” The director interrupts you, making you giggle as you pull away from your co-star. “Keep rolling, we’ve got it,” Yeonjun laughs, throwing the board he was previously holding on the ground behind him. You laugh at him, waiting for the staff members to bring you a new board with more questions. 

The interview flows after that. Even though Yeonjun keeps flirting any chance he gets, you stop minding and get used to it. You’d dare to say you even enjoy it now. 

“That went well, don’t you think?” Yeonjun asks, wrapping his arm around your shoulder as you leave the set. You nod, briefly glancing at him. “I’m sure your plan to make us blow up worked,” you agree. “Yeah, I’m sure it did,” he nods, stopping. You question his movements, raising an eyebrow. “But you know I’m not doing all this just to make the drama do well, right?” 

And then your heart stops completely. “What?” 

“With you, I don’t have to pretend anything,” he mumbles, taking a step closer to you. He holds your hand in his, carefully watching you. “I never had to.” You blink a few times, assuring yourself this isn’t some weird dream of yours before you open your mouth to answer. No words leave your mouth, though. You don’t know what to say. Instead, you close the gap between you, pressing your lips on his once again. “Good, I’m not sure how long I could keep pretending this is fake,” you mumble against his lips, and he wraps his arm around your waist, keeping you as close as possible. 

“Let’s not pretend then. Let’s make us real,” he says confidently, not letting go of you. “I want to be with you for real.”

⋆✶ izzy's tags @beomiracles @seoulzie @adel222 @inkigayocamman @flowzel @love-be0m @virgo-and-libra @hwanghyunjinismybae @liaatiny @minaateez ✶⋆ Want to get notified? Join taglist here !

[starletcake]

Headcanon about mage Viktor and his 'origins'

I didn't really understand how viktor could be the mage from Jayces past and I didn't really get any real or satisfying answers to that from anywhere, so I thought I would spin my own little theory (or at this point you could say fanfiction) as to how this all happened, how viktor became the mage in Jayces story, what he meant by "only you could ever show me this" etcetc. I assume/determine/establish many things for my thoughtprocess to be true, I do that for my story to work and for my mind to be at peace and that it can grip an answer and not go insane about pixels because apparently i cannot act normal around media i like.

First of all, I'm gonna assume that some things are just true/meant to happen/fated in ALL timelines. For example that viktor is going to ALWAYS come into touch with the arcane and even if his path can be different each timeline his end goal is always the same - glorious evolution. I also assume that if you time travel/jump timelines and act as a seperate individual in this timeline (not like f.e. ekko replacing himself in his timeline) you are not allowed/cannot intervene too much with it because then the time/space continuum collapses or the arcane throws a fit idk.

So let's imagine a timeline, I'm gonna call it "the first timeline" (even though it doesn't really make sense in thinking of first/next/last timeline because all of the timelines are parallels, but bear with me), a timeline where viktor comes into touch with the arcane a different way, because here he doesn't even know Jayce exists (the mage which gave him the rune doesn't exist yet/in this "first" timeline). He merges with the arcane, thinks he's doing everyone a favour by initiating the glorious evolution, finishes it, creates a perfect world and everyone is happy. Except it isn't a perfect world and nobody is happy, in fact everybody is practically dead, without joy, love and choice, and Piltover/maybe even the whole world crumbles into arcane waste because of Viktors actions. He doesn't understand what went wrong, he didn't want this, he wanted everyone to have equal opportunities and end all suffering and be without sickness, be perfect. There had to be some kind of mistake here. So, with the help of the arcane, he travels to another timeline, and tries to change a few things in his story. With hindsight, this time he could steer his young self in the right direction and this time, surely it will work.

But it doesn't. So he tries again. And again. And again and again and again.

But everytime, in every timeline, with every change he made, with every different decision he made, with every different way he found the arcane, it always ended the same - the glorious evolution was a mistake. More than that, an error in his thinking of his younger self, which is the catalyst of the apocalypse.

Having seen that outcome time and time again, this "first" mage Viktor realizes that this cost for perfection is flawed, and that imperfections do have beauty in itself. So, he goes into another timeline, this time adamant to stop himself. But he fails. He just isn't able to stop his younger self, he is not able to prevent that he is coming into contact with the arcane, he is not able to change his worldview, he is not able to change anything about his goal or conviction. So, maybe someone else could? Trying and trying to introduce character after character into his life, trying to let others influence him, to no avail. How could he, anyway? How could anyone change this worldview of him? He, "first" mage Viktor needed countless of timelines and experiences to learn, that he doesn't have to be ashamed of his flaws, that he doesn't have to erase them and that imperfections are what makes them all alive. How could anyone show him, in his limited lifespan, everything he learned in a multiple factor of this time?

And this is where Jayce comes in.

Maybe, in one of the infinite timelines, the "first" mage Viktor was just as lost as Jayce on that fateful day. Maybe he was about to give up his endeavor of stopping himself becoming the villain in each and every timeline. Maybe, he began to accept that, just as he is fated to meet the arcane, he is also fated to doom the world. Then, he sees a little boy, crying over his dying mother in a snow storm. Maybe he thinks, even if i will destroy the world later, maybe I could do a good deed now, and saves the little boys mother. He gifts the little boy a rune, and goes on with his day.

And BOOM, Jayce just got introduced to the game. This little act changed the course of history entirely, suddenly there was a brilliant mind in the middle of Piltover, suddenly Jayce and Viktor meet, and suddenly, Hextech is invented. Viktor gets a partner he can trust, that he loves and admires and he gets this love and admiration and trust back. They understand each other in ways nobody else could, they share moments of intimacy and ways of love no romantic love could ever reach(thats also a reason i don't really ship Viktor and Jayce, deep love doesn't always have to be romantic in nature and there are so many other types of love that are no lesser and can be more intense(even though my gay heart yearned for them to kiss at that last scene ngl)(well this and maybe im also trying to convince myself that it doesn't always has to be romantic love that saves the world and is the most impactful and beautiful and fated etcetc(can you tell I'm aro)))

And suddenly, new hope flashes in mage Viktors eyes. It's him. He is the one. The only one. The one he was meant to meet, meant to choose so Jayce could choose Viktor again. And even though this timeline also ended in the wasteland mage Viktor saw so often already, now he knows, oh he feels that he will be the one to change it all.

So this little clip where we see mage Viktor giving little Jayce all these different runes? This is actually the end of mage Viktors journey, the last couple steps to finally find true peace, not in the form all of the Viktors always thought they will(glorious evolution), but in the form of accepting himself. And nobody else, not himself or Singed or Silco or Sky or Mel or Heimerdinger, only Jayce, only him, only you, could show me this.

(Finally, one of the runes caused Jayce to travel to another timeline where the apocalypse already has happened, and Ekko in one where he invents his timetravel device. Finally, mage Viktor can talk to Jayce and Jayce promises Viktor to stop him, forgiving him and loving him regardless. And Ekko, being the last push Jayce and Viktor needed to, being the catalyst of this even being able to happen)

I'm only writing/thinking about/posting this to satisfy my urge to understand exactly what was going on and why characters acted that way or why situations happened, to try to fill plotholes that nag my brain in a series that i absolutely love and gives me so many emotions(mostly pain, oh the misery). Idk and idc if any of that makes actual sense or fits in the lore of LoL or even the show itself, if it retconns some things or if the show itself retconns some of this theory/story, it makes sense in my head and I kinda like it, and thats what brings me peace idk how my brain works ok. (Plus it would be so cool to see some of the alternate timelines where for example viktor works with Silco and Jinx instead or smth)

[istharoth]

In love with a 2-D Character?! Mortkranken Edition!

Blurb: In which you are a character in a popular game the Tokyo debunker boys are coincidentally in love with.

↪ Yuri Isami:

Boy oh boy, he does not play games but it's a game which includes anomalies? Something his occult (in this AU) self is intrigued by? He's definitely picking up the game

Obviously, at first glance he knows you're a great doctor, just like him, so he selects you.

You like Classical Music too? Hello?! He's longing for the day you become real because you're everything he needs.

Someone he can speak to on an intellectual level (and possibly learn from?) he's not going to let that chance go!

He also probably likes Jin's favourite character but you dislike them. So what? He likes them so that doesn't matter. (though he's a bit curious to know about the animosity)

He's the kind of person who would slowly change his habits into yours

Oh, that brief mention of your coffee/tea order? Yeah, that's his daily drink now.

Oh you like chemistry? Guess you and him have chemistry *wink wonk*

Isn't big on merch I feel but also gives collector vibes.

Let's go with the latter, he's a collector. Merch? He's going to get it.

He likely started the game later, so he missed out on some official merch. He's looking everywhere for that limited merch

HE NEEDS TO GET HIS HANDS ON THEM

If not, you'd be disappointed, and he'd be disappointed.

Intensely in love with you, definitely has a shrine of you.

Was squealing when you and he held hands. HELLO?! BEFORE MARRIAGE?!?

Has mediocre luck overall but calculates how much he needs to get you and efficiently gets you. (by not pulling on other character banners)

He's trying to get your SR maxed out, also will not listen to people who say a certain set is better for you. No. whatever goes with your colour scheme is best for you.

↪ Jiro Kirisaki:

Does not play games. Even if he does, forgets to log in.

Very easygoing, and likely doesn't have the story completed but feeds on fan stuff.

I feel like he wouldn't like the entire nurse x doctor thing in fics because it reminds him too much of his own job and he wants to relax. (To all the doctors and nurses out there, we appreciate you in this household.)

Coffee shop AU? Possible. "And they were roommates?" Maybe. College AU where you both have different majors but come across each other one too many times and have the same friend group but you're intensely awkward around him? YES. (but that's my preference)

Selects you as his first choice!! YEAH and pulls on all the banners cause he literally couldn't care who he gets.

*Cue SSR* "...okay, anyway." *does a 10 pull on the other banner*

Goes to cons only to come home with a thousand less bucks than he started with.

Generally likes your voice, and has a playlist of the songs your voice actor has covered. He's hoping they can cover some of his favourite songs.

You know that one Turning Red scene where the MC is drawing herself and that guy at the store? YEAH. THAT'S HIM.

Except his yume is faceless, and he doesn't post any of it online.

Definitely respects you, even if you're just a character in a game. Also! Has a fan account, but he rarely ever uses it. It's just there to retweet fanart of you + official pictures cause he loves you.

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