#I mean. It kinda was. but is also apparently an actual song not just something they came up with while fucking around in halo.

[ttrpg-smash-pass-vs]

Apparently the official ones are fey centaur. That's why they're small, they're elf/pony instead of human/horse. They're strong and perceptive survivalist fey! I refuse to believe I need to explain what a centaur is, or the appeal. These had an 84% smash rate last time, and the only thing thats changed is being 6-7 feet (1.8-2.1 m) tall depending on species. They even have enough supernatural strength that they count as if they were a full sized horse for carrying capacity and such. So riding them is still on the table, it's just easier to reach the human half.

[supersecretnerd]

Ok so these designs are cute as hell, the Internet is just mean

I have too many thoughts about a game I still need to watch

[illusioncanthurtme--art]

A very self indulgent Billford playlist!

Self indulgent, because this music does not appeal to the masses at all; these songs are limited to the stuff I listen to. So I’m being VERY transparent about my embarrassing taste in music right now! Plus, NOBODY ASKED FOR THIS!!! But I hope some of these resonate with you. This is a little collection I’ve formed in my phone notes since I got into this ship a couple weeks ago.

Not a fancy spotify playlist, it’s just links to the music on youtube. 

I’ve got this divided into parts:

-The Billford Songs

-The In This Moment Billford Songs

SO MUCH of their music is enemies/lovers perfection. I’ve thought about so many *killing you but also making out with you* pairings to this shit, because these songs were like, DESIGNED to be recycled for any and all love hate relationships, and still hit insanely hard EVERY TIME. So now that you have these songs under your belt, you have them FOREVER. You’re welcome. I haven’t even listened to all their music, I’m sure there’s more songs for this category that I simply haven’t discovered.

-The…Maybe…Billford Songs

My standards were kinda high for making this list. But every song is about your ship when you’re insane, right??? So these are the maybe’s. One’s I’ve thought about billford to, but maybe the lyrics don’t totally align.

Playlist under the cut! I wasn’t gonna ramble about each song but WHOOPS I DID 🤷‍♀️

The Billford songs:

Monophobia - Deadmau5 (Extended version, cuz it’s the best.)

THE LYRICS… THE LYRICS!!!! Definitely bill pining in theraprism. 

Propane Nightmares - Pendulum

This one WAS gonna go in the maybe’s, but I convinced myself otherwise after listening to it eighty more times, and now it’s up here on top. And fuck it, this is the *self indulgent* billford playlist, so I do what I want. I go into a fucking trance when I listen to this song, so I can’t really explain 110% why this is a billford song to me, but I’ll try.  Apparently, this song is about the heavens gate cult. So not enemies/lovers angst. But looking at the lyrics, you could interpret it as giving yourself to something greater, and coming to the realization that what you pledged yourself to is actually a very bad thing which will ultimately destroy you. (also, you can’t deny that there was some cult like manipulation happening with Bill and Ford. Sense of purpose and friendship.) Definitely billford-y when you consider Fords commitment to bill. And I’ll admit, when I listen to it, there is some pov switching. Because the “trail of fire”,  “we will be as one”, and “bring it on home” is VERY reminiscent of bill executing weirdmageddon. So overall, my interpretation of this song is Ford feeling torn about bill, feeling regret, feeling scared, and Bill of course, just wanting to bring the dimensions together. “BRING IT ON HOME!!!!”  Or I just like the song. 

Rule 34 - Fish in a Birdcage

Bestie recommended this song to me. It needs no explanation.

Painkiller - The Queenstons

…NEEDS NO EXPLANATION DSKFDSKJHF It’s similar to the above, just more… scary imo. Violent. Definitely bill being a little psycho. I really love this song. It’s very recyclable too. You have it for any toxic ship now. 

9V - The Queenstons

One of my favorite Lapfox/Halley Labs songs… I’m gonna give you the lyrics, it’s a bit hard to understand without them. In my eyes, it’s about betraying Ford. Also these vocals (and other music by this artist) works so well for bill because of the synthesized voice. 

LoveBOMB - S3RL

This is a new S3RL song. This song sounds like a tantrum, and I really liked it when I first heard it, but it didn't fit anything I was into at the time. Luckily, bill suffered a horrible breakup, and now this song has it’s meaning. 

When I'm There - S3RL

Bill thinking about joining the third dimension with Ford. 

Click Bait - S3RL

I’ve listened to this one a LOT before this, and I surprised myself with how much it aligns with bill, specifically, him tricking Ford.

Space-Time - S3RL

Speaks for itself.

Sodom & Gomorrah - Dorian Electra

This one’s just funny :)

The In This Moment Billford Songs

Sick Like Me

Sexual Hallucination

This is one of those recyclable songs, but I was damn surprised at how well the lyrics suited them, because it alludes to being out of body, possession, etc.

Blood

Half God half devil

Roots

Whore

Damn it, I cant deny this one suits them.

Big Bad Wolf

DAMN IT I wasn’t gonna include this one, but I just checked the lyrics and fuck, it works. In this moment, how are you so wonderful

The…Maybe…Billford Songs

Illuminaughty - Infected Mushroom

I'm kind of grasping at straws with these lyrics, but with a title like that? Come on

The Pretender - Foo Fighters, Infected Mushroom, Turbo Remix

Three versions, for whichever suits your fancy.

Leopold - Infected Mushroom

This one has NO LYRICS, but it has this buildup that sounds really cool, and it has an abrupt decrescendo. Reminds me of their "friendship" and how it all came crashing down.

Idolize - Dorian Electra

Hmmmmm, I just like Dorian. But the idolization thing works for obvious reasons.

That’s it! Hope you enjoy. Maybe I'll do an expansion pack of sorts if I find enough songs for a part 2.

[s-h-commatothetop-dynasty]

ahhhhhhhfjjfjgjfjjfjcjskvjkzjfjsjfjjdjgjfjgkskfk

[vauxxy]

SECOND THAT

luke castellan x reader

★ “i’m restless, i’m wrestling with the song that you love, it’s been stuck in my head”

ABOUT - luke castellan is the only one at camp who sees right through your perfect and poised persona; and all he wants is the satisfaction of ruining it.

WARNINGS - smut, mentions of choking, both the reader and luke are TERRIBLE but luke is much worse lol, swearing, written from the perspective of a deranged luke, penetration, only loosely proofread.

A/N- i have NEVER written and posted smut before EVER. like i get close but i never go all out. so… no hate guys 😘 also i feel like this is a bit ooc for luke so just pretend he’s actually insane and terrible guys!!! if you ignore his incoherent ramblings, it’s PWOP sooo… anyways this might be the first and last time i ever write smut who knows

luke castellan is no amateur when it comes to pretending to be something else. growing up, the only thing that mattered to luke was receiving praise or recognition for being ‘great’ or ‘honourable’ or whatever.

when you live your whole life pretending to be a perfect person, you kinda start to believe you really are a perfect person.

and if everyone you meet also believes you are indeed a perfect person, what’s the harm in continuing to pretend?

at the end of the day, both parties gain something. you get the validation and acclaim that you truly deserve, and they get a role model they aspire to at least halfway resemble.

luke is the sweetest guy at camp- everyone loves him. and he deserves it, doesn’t he? he deserves their praise and love and respect. gods, he should be rewarded for pretending to be so admirable for so long. he’s entitled to it.

you, on the other hand? you don’t. you don’t deserve an ounce of the praise luke has worked so hard to receive.

to luke, you’re vermin. behind your polite smiles and sweet words, there’s darkness. there’s an evil lurking within you- he’s sure of it.

he sees it during early morning sparring sessions, watching from the wings while you tactfully dodge every attack that comes your way. and when you eventually falter, he sees how your eyes turn cold and your smile fades.

he sees how you take a shaky breath, brushing yourself off with your bony hands before flashing a toothy grin. he feels nauseous when you extend your arm out to shake the hand of your opponent- because how the fuck can they believe your little act?

your gentle kindness and bashful charisma is so obviously fake. of course, he’s not pissed that you’re acting; everyone at camp is acting to an extent. but you’re going all out, and he can still see through it. what pisses him off, is that nobody else seems to recognise how truly malicious you can be.

maybe it’s because you’re pretty. luke is no stranger to getting special treatment based on his appearance, and neither should you be. maybe that’s the whole basis of your appeal. it seems to be the only thing holding your pathetic little facade together, considering your sloppy acting skills.

if you were ugly everyone would be able to call out your bullshit straight away, and then he wouldn’t have to worry about sharing the spotlight. honestly, the only reason why everyone loves you so much is because half of them want to fuck you, and the other half want your attention or approval- not that it’d be worth anything.

it was the last week of spring, meaning only the year-rounders and a few of the older kids were at camp. you just graduated high school, and arrived at camp early.

of course, you just had to return to camp prettier, taller, more confident, and with a fancy college acceptance letter. maybe you were much smarter than you let on- but it became very apparent that your intelligence wasn’t the reason you got accepted into NYU once he learned what you were studying.

“oh, i’m getting a degree in art history,”

seriously? art history? that’s gotta be the funniest thing luke has ever heard in his entire life.

“really? why art history?” he asks politely, watching your every move as he awaits your dumbass explanation.

you shrug cheerfully, looking around at the few other campers scattered around in a tight-knit circle as they wait for you to tell them about your ‘lovely’ 18th birthday and ‘eventful’ senior year.

“i don’t know, my mum works with a lot of artists, so she said it’d be a good conversation starter,” you say cheerfully, as if it wasn’t the stupidest thing to ever exit your mouth.

luke can’t help but let out a little giggle, before instantly lowering his head to offer some non-verbal apology. but to his surprise, you laugh along. “yeah, i really wanna score a job at the MET or something. i don’t mind either way,”

luke nods politely, letting the conversation continue without interrupting with a snide comment or unsolicited laughter.

he plays along as the conversation continues, pretending he doesn’t want to grab you by the throat and push you against the wall, demanding you to confess. demanding you to tell the fucking truth; that you’re a manipulative sycophant who’s bound to end up in rehab for getting addicted to designer drugs.

why is he the only one that sees you for who you truly are? gods, if he knew any better he might be charmed. you were naturally picturesque- or at least you seemed to be. the way that you were sitting on the grass with your hair draping over your body; you looked gorgeous. but you always look gorgeous, that’s your best quality after all.

of course all of camp half-blood was fooled- you were to pretty and kind to be lying. maybe it was better to let them keep on believing that you were this perfect image of a girl.

but he’d still appreciate the satisfaction of seeing you for who you are- seeing you in your rawest form.

and then suddenly, he saw it. some athena girl asked you if you wanted to go on a run with her later, to which you politely declined. of course, you kept your composure, told her that you had to take a nap, offered her a sympathetic smile and a ‘maybe next time’. but she didn’t see the way your eyes rolled to the back of your head as soon as she looked away.

luke was astonished. you really were getting sloppy, huh?

and yet, nobody else saw it. nobody else saw the look of disgust on your face as soon as she finished talking. he was seething- how on earth could everyone be so blind?

luke looks around at the group of people surrounding him, his eyes darting back to you ever 5 or 10 seconds. they all look at you with awe- as if you’re the most precious thing on earth.

fuck that. he was going to put you in your place.

a few hours pass, and it was finally time for everyone to walk back to their cabins.

luke spots you walking alone to your cabin, your face dimly lit by the moon as it shines over the camp. he’s so overwhelmed with anger, he couldn’t fathom caring about the consequences of whatever situation he was about to put himself in.

he quickly catches up to you, meeting your walking pace as he shoots you a friendly smile.

“hey, y/n. you got a minute?” luke asks, still adorning that charming smile. you smile back at him, nodding your head ever so gently, as if it would fall off if you moved it too fast. like a rusty elvis bobble head bought 1976 that resides on the dash of your grandmother’s busted car.

“yeah, why?” you hold your hands behind your back as you walk beside him, slowly approaching your empty cabin. luke shrugs his shoulders. “oh, i just had a little question. mind if we talk in your cabin?” he asks.

you nod, opening the door for luke and letting him walk through. you close the door behind him, before leaning your back against the wall. luke stands in front of you, his cheery demeanour vanishing as he crosses his arms.

“why the fuck are you such a little bitch all the time?”

you furrow your brows, mirroring his posture as you cross your arms defensively. “excuse me?”

luke rolls his eyes, letting out dry laughter as he looks you up and down. “you heard me,” he adds, watching you anxiously begin to pick at your lips with your freshly manicured fingernails.

“do you have a problem with me or something?” your whole body feels tense as you continue picking at your lips, your eyes locked onto his.

“yeah, i do have a problem. i’m tired of your little ‘nice girl’ act. it’s getting fucking annoying,” luke scoffed, taking a step closer towards you. your eyes darken, before shaking away your hostile expression.

“are you sure you wanna do this right now, castellan?”

“is that a threat?”

you pull your fingertips away from your lips, shifting your weight to the other side of your body as you cross your arms once more. you let silence fill the room before finally speaking up.

“listen, luke. everyone pretends to be someone they’re not. you and i just tend to do it more than others-“

luke cuts your off, taking another step forwards. “fuck off, we are not the same.”

you roll your eyes, banging your head against the wall as you groan irritably. “so what? are you gonna go around spreading cheap lies about me now?” you ask tiredly. luke shakes his head, slightly shrugging his shoulders.

“nah.” he replies curtly, his voice blunt and expression vague. “mkay, then what the fuck is your problem?”

luke takes another quick step forward, tightly holding your chin in his hand as he lifts your head to face him. “you’re my fucking problem.”

you let out a dry laugh, staring into his eyes as you attempt to intimidate him. “you’re such a loser.” you whisper, refusing to fight back against the way he’s gripping your face.

he stays silent, biting his lip as he looks over your form. “and you’re a brat.” he retorts.

“are we just going to keep throwing insults back and forth all night, or are you gonna explain why you’re so obsessed with me?” you ask playfully, cupping his face in your hand as an attempt to patronise him.

luke is stumped. to be fair, he is entirely obsessed with you. and he has been for years now. and now he has you cornered, watching your weak attempts at asserting dominance over him.

luke was over it.

suddenly, luke leans in, harshly pressing his lips against yours. you retract your hand from his face, pressing it against the wall as you feel his body moving towards you.

he wraps his other hand around your neck, only gently gripping it as to not alarm you.

luke is surprised by how you sink into his grip, pulling away to see your closed eyes and swollen lips. when you wipe your mouth and look at him with those hauntingly innocent eyes, he’s almost fooled.

you scoff, smirking as you tear away from his grip and take a few steps back. “is that all you wanted?” you say confidently, watching him turn around to watch you carefully pace around the room.

he shakes his head, groaning quietly as he walks over to you once more.

luke purses his lips, trying to suppress any sense of genuine attraction to you. but when his eyes gaze over to your red lips and flushed cheeks, he can’t help but let his mind wander.

“if you’re done, you can leave, castellan.” you say irritably, leaning against your bed frame.

it goes straight to his dick when you call him that, especially when your voice sounds so hoarse and cocky. he feels as though he’s finally accomplished what he’s been yearning to do for years now. he’s seeing the real you.

he couldn’t dare squander this opportunity now.

he pushes you down onto your bed, watching how your hair flows over your newly made bedsheets as your head hits the pillow.

“but you don’t want me to leave, do you?” luke says lowly, hovering over your body as his hand hold your wrists together above your head.

“i don’t care what you do, castellan.”

luke groans, pressing another rough kiss against your lips. you kiss back for whatever reason, and your firsts relax within his grip. it was almost as if you got off on the idea of someone calling out your bullshit. or maybe you got off on the idea of somewhat hating your guts. either way, luke knew you were more than eager to continue.

he let go of your wrists, before biting your bottom lip. your mouth opens slightly, offering entry to his tongue, deepening the kiss.

you hand cups his face, while the other grips his shoulder. after a few moments, he pulls away and begins sucking at the skin of your neck, leaving purple marks on your delicate skin while you let out hoarse whimpers.

his hands begin to fiddle with the fabric of your shirt, causing you to push his body forwards as you position yourself to sit on his lap. you take off your shirt, throwing it away as you run your hands down his back.

luke looks down at your chest, growing more aroused at the sight of your lacy little bra. it’s as if you knew someone was going to see it.

you feel a hardness growing from under his jeans, poking against your upper thigh as you slowly grind against his lap. luke let’s put a low moan, continuing to bury his face in your neck.

“i fucking hate you,” he growls, gripping the sides of your waist with his hands as you move against him.

“don’t care, take off your shirt,” you demand hurriedly, running your fingers through his hair as you tilt his head up to look at you.

luke rolls his eyes, before taking off his shirt. he quickly presses another series of harsh kissses against your neck, fiddling with the clasp of your bra as you push your chest up against his. you giggle softly at his incompetence, before he finally unhooks it and ravenously pulls it from your chest.

luke pushes your body backwards onto the bed, trailing kisses down from your neck and onto your tits. you let out a quiet moan, before biting down onto your hand in order to stifle the sound. his large hands knead your left breast, while the other grips the area just under your right breast, resting on top of your ribcage.

luke’s hands slowly move downwards, hip thumb tracing circles against the side of your hip as you gently grasp onto his hair. his fingertips gently pull down your shorts, leaving you in only your underwear.

he rubs his thumb over the wet fabric, before tilting his head to look up at you. “pathetic,” he mutters, smirking at your flushed faced. you groan, burying the back of your head further into the pillow as your back arches involuntarily.

luke’s thumb massages your clit from over the soaking fabric, watching you squirm in response. he lets out a dry laugh, before pulling down your panties and tossing them onto the floor.

“luke…” you moan quietly, closing your eyes as your hips jerk into the mattress. his fingers trace your wet folds, before letting his thumb rub circles against your clit and forcing two fingers inside of you.

you whimper before pursing your lips, rolling your head around as he slowly pumps his fingers in and out. he quickens his pace, pressing down harshly against your clit while beginning to suck on the skin of your upper thigh.

luke holds down your hip with his free hand as you begin to squirm.

suddenly, he stops.

you look at him with a confused expression, your face red as he pulls his fingers out. he chuckles at your disappointed face, before taking off his pants and boxers. you stare at his length unashamedly, biting down on your bottom lip.

“so fucking needy.” he says lowly, his voice horse as he softly begins to continue massaging your clit. you moan, feeling your back arch as he positions himself in front of your legs. he forcefully spreads them open as he teases your folds with the tip of his erect member.

you let out a little whine, your voice trembling as you try to move your hips against his length.

luke rolls his eyes at your poor attempts at penetration, before slowly pushing his cock into your entrance. you let out a breathy, high pitched moan, your hands eagerly gripping your bedsheets.

he gradually pushes in the entirety his length, continuing to rub circles into your clit. luke tightly grips your waist as he begins to slowly pull out, before jamming himself back in. you let out a breathy yelp as you body moves with his thrusts.

like continues relentlessly pushing in and out of you, massaging your waist as his thumb gradually increases the speed of its attack on your clit.

you try to steady you breathing, your face flushed as lukewarm continues to deliberately overwhelm your body.

“mm… luke, i’m gonna…” you mutter, your hips jerking upwards. he smiles at you, amused by how blissed out you look taking his cock. “so soon?” he teases, rapidly moving against your body.

you let out a stammering series of whimpers as your back arches upwards, feeing yourself suddenly release. luke grins, continuing to rub circles into your clit as he rides out your orgasm.

luke slowly retracts his thumb, repositioning the hand to gently grip your hip. he begins to slow down his movements, before quickly thrusting into you repetitively. you squirm, the movements of your hips constrained by his grip.

suddenly, he pulls out, releasing onto your stomach. see? he was a gentleman.

luke gazes over at the girl he just reduced to a panting mess as he stands up and puts his clothes back on. he smiles at you as he zips up his jeans, before kneeling besides you as you turn your head to look at him.

“i wont tell anyone how fucking pathetic you are, don’t worry, princess.”

you nod, staring at him as he continues to look at your defenceless body. “such a pretty girl,” he hums, cupping your face in his hand before kissing your forehead.

he reaches over to your discarded underwear and gently pulls them up your legs, the gesture acting somewhat as a peace offering. he takes a step back, simply taking in how endearingly stupid you look.

you slowly sit yourself up, grabbing your camp t shirt and putting it on. “goodnight, luke,” you choke out, your voice hoarse and breathing shallow. he nods, smiling softly as he turns to walk away. “night, princess.”

[neowinestainedress]

wave | lee donghyuck

pairing: lee donghyuck x fem reader genre: college au, academics rivals to lovers, kinda fake dating, forced to work together on a project, smut, fluff, humor (idk), music major!haechan, music major!mc | not really requested but thank you 💌 anon for the inspo summary: your indifference toward Lee Donghyuck, also known as Haechan, becomes rivalry when he decides to sabotage you. The battle turns into a war, the war turns into a plan, and the plan, well, the plan fails miserably... or succeeds wonderfully. After all, it’s all about points of view. Or, Haechan thinks he found a way to distract you and be better than you, but doesn’t think it thoroughly and screws it up. warnings: smut, mentioned weed consumption, alcohol use, fingering, oral (receiving), unprotected sex, public sex, jealous sex, bickering, teasing, etc | inclusivity notes: reader wears different hairstyles (no mention of texture, type and color), no mention of body type (but haechan lifts her a few times), no mention of skin color, no use of y/n wc: 22.4k (out of 42k)

a/n: finally i’m back! i started this fic more than a year ago so seeing it finally come to life means everything to me. i had so much fun writing it, so i hope you’ll love it too. please, let me know with comments, reblogs (that also help reach more people), or anon. i love knowing what you think. enjoy! also if there are formatting mistakes please let me know cause i’ve been having problems posting this and i copied it without editing it once again.

masterpost (with visuals and playlist) (i can’t post the link or else the post doesn’t show up in the tags, but you can find it on my profile)

Being number one in your academy isn’t a want, but a need.

You didn’t spend your entire life crafting your skills and splitting yourself between the books and the training room for all of that to be swept under the rug when you finally made it to your dream university; Neo Arts Academy.

Surely, with the prizes promised to those on top, you aren’t the only one with that racing passion to drive you through each day. Tons of people try their best, and even put their health at risk to reach the biggest success, but you manage to focus on yourself and keep your life in a pretty healthy balance.

You managed to focus on you… until something, well, somebody, started to come into your way.

Lee Donghyuck, also known as Haechan, his stage name —if he ever made it big in the industry he wanted to be already known.

You never paid him much attention. Honestly, you never paid attention to anybody, your only goal was to take care of your small garden and top everybody else, but when his competitiveness got the best of him, you just couldn’t push him in the back of your mind.

Apparently, his goals are the same as yours, and that isn’t a nice thing considering how competitive your world is. You first truly glanced at him during a songwriting lesson, when he huffed a bit too loudly behind you while he announced to his friend, probably named Mark, that he sucked at writing songs. However, you only chuckled mindlessly that time and went on with your day.

That was your first year there and everything went fine. Then the second year arrived and you applied for your minor degree in dance and that was when Donghyuck’s presence started to be louder. You had nothing against him, but you quickly learned he couldn’t stand you for some reason. Rumours were quick at flying around, being passed from mouth to ear and you knew them.

You simply couldn’t care.

Yet.

Haechan doesn’t hate you. He could never do that. After all, he doesn’t even know you. But he does know something about you. He knows your name, and how it is always on top of his in any ranking. He knows you will always win the contests he wants to win so badly. He knows you are good at theory and practice. He knows he just can’t win with you.

He also knows nothing can touch you. Not because you are unreachable and believe you’re superior to others. Actually, you are very modest about all your academic success, but you always walk straight on your road with the goal perfectly in the line of view.

Haechan doesn’t hate you. Though, lately, he has a strange feeling in his body every time he sits at his desk to study and his only motivation is to surpass you. Nothing different than the first months there, he got pretty soon you were going to be a tough but nice competitor, but fuck he never imagined you would be so hard to beat. Now that after a year he never won or got the top grade and always came second after you, you aren’t motivating him, you are driving him insane.

He doesn’t have many distractions, but he has friends, some hobbies outside of university, and even a part-time job. But you? Is there something that is distracting you? Is there anything that could distract you? He has no idea, not now that he is watching you walk into the room, ready for the classical ballet history class —yes, of course out of all the minors, you had to choose his— and sit a few rows in front of him, all alone as always, taking out your lilac book note and your pen.

Haechan has no idea, but he is going to find out something that can easily distract you and push out of your path.

You know people think of university as a moment to socialise, but being on your own has never been a problem for you. You have contacts with some of your hometown friends, and most importantly, you don’t mind doing things alone; you can go to the cinema when you want, you can pick whatever restaurant you like, you can take a walk, or stay at home.

You’ve always been comfortable in your bubble, and you’d like to keep it that way, but life has strange plans.

“Damn, always on a rush.” You recognize Haechan’s voice, but you don’t bother turning around because you’re sure he’s not addressing you. You think it’s weird he’s sitting next to you, but you blink the surprise away and grab your tablet from your bag. “Whoever put music theory at 8:30 in the morning on a Monday needs to go to jail.”

You chuckle at his comment, subtly rolling your eyes before opening the note app to go where you left it in the previous lesson.

“You write a lot.” This time you’re quite sure he’s talking to you, so your neck turns to look at him and you find him closer than you’d like him to be.

“I annotate, it’s just the essentials.”

He scans the notes quickly before scoffing. “The essentials? I don’t write as half as that.”

“Well, I think this is essential, but we all work differently,” while you’re answering him, you don’t even notice that his friend is not beside him, and you get lost in him for a second, mostly in the scent that’s filling your nostrils now that his brown jacket is so close to you.

“The professor talks too fast, how the fu— how do you get everything?” He stops himself from cursing and backs away, finally making you breathe some air that is not filled with his intoxicating perfume.

“I rewrite phrases. And, to be sure, I record the lessons, so I can re-listen to them in case something doesn’t make sense when I study them. And then I also re-write the not—”

“You record the lessons?” He almost snarls with his eyes bulging out of his skull as he, once again, stands too close to you.

“Is it illegal?” Your head tilts to the side as genuine curiosity blooms on your face.

“No, it’s… it’s…” he sighs, throwing his head back and cursing something under his breath in a tight dialect you don’t recognize. “I never thought about it.”

“Oh, well, it helps me a lot. Sometimes when I’m too tired to read I just play the lessons and memorize stuff while I do other things,” you smile, moving your hair to one side of your neck before grabbing the pen when the professor walks in. “You should try.”

“Oh, you can be sure I will.”

Haechan can’t be so stupid. He can’t believe he can be so stupid. Why didn’t he ever, ever, think about that? That’s a smart idea, better than crying and cursing when he tries to understand what he wrote down on paper when he revisits the notes, or asking Mark if he wrote some phrases he had marked down with several question marks or dots to fill —dots that he never fills.

But he’s still sure he can’t be a terrible student, he had always been on top of his classes, always aced them and his study method worked… but what if yours worked better? Given the results of the past year, and the start of this one, the answer is clear: yours do work better.

But he doesn’t think that it’s the only reason you are beating him in everything. What if you have other tricks?

Haechan is going to find out.

You always believed your only competition was yourself. You never liked to engage with other people and fight them or fear them. But Haechan had given you no choice.

It was an open threat at you when he purposefully told you a different day to turn in an assignment when you were sick, you had no choice but to fight back.

That was when Haechan truly became your rival. He had always been, you two were always at the top, fighting for the first place and the big prizes, but now it was a matter of pride.

Haechan had officially made it on top of your blacklist, at least he could arrive number one in something, not like there was a big competition to be in there, in fact, you didn’t even have one before he pushed your last nerve.

Fucking it up with you wasn’t Haechan’s plan, he wanted to befriend you and trick you into giving him some magic tricks, but things went… wrong. With Mark by his side, it was impossible to sit next to you. During songwriting you got up and sat on another seat in the middle of the lesson with the excuse of ‘not seeing from afar’, and he couldn’t approach you in any other circumstances. So, when you got sick for three days, he thought he could, for once, steal your spotlight.

He wasn’t sure you were sick, but he was sure enough you weren’t going to miss lessons days to study or work on projects; you never needed extra time, unfortunately, he knew it well. So the only thing that could lock you in your place was an illness of some kind. He did feel bad when you came back four days later and asked him if you missed something, he could see you still weren’t at your best, and he could’ve tried his luck by telling you the truth, hoping that the precarious state you were in was going to make you come up with a terrible essay on an instrument of the 18th century, but his eagerness got the best of him, and he lied.

So he had officially screwed his plan of getting closer to you.

“You are an asshole,” you scream, slamming the books in front of him on the table in the garden, not caring about his friends staring at you in shock. “And don’t look at me with that face of ‘I don’t know what you’re talking about’ because you know what I’m referring to.”

“I don’t, though…” he whispers, trying to keep a distance between you because you look scary —half bent on the table, furrowed forehead, pointing finger— and he thinks you are very motivated to reach over his neckline and strangle him.

You roll your eyes, groaning in annoyance. “You told me Professor Kim left an essay for Monday, I thought I could use the weekend to do an amazing job and he called me to his office because I was three days late.”

Haechan gulps, and the table goes silent, you feel his friends’ gazes on you but they are the last thing in your mind.

“Mind to explain?”

“I… I didn’t do it on purpose?”

“You have to ask me if you are an asshole because your mother didn’t put a brain in your skull?”

“Hey, take it back!” He warns with a pointing finger, glaring at you.  

“No,” you retort, crossing your arms on your chest and standing up straight. “You sabotaged me.”

“You are making things up. Maybe you should be in the creative writing major,” Haechan taunts, a shit-eating grin on his face.  

You gasp offended, clenching your fists to avoid wrapping your hands around his neck. “You — you — ugh,” you huff. “This paper was graded! And you knew it, it’s part of the mid-course work he adds to our final grade. Why would you do that to me?”

“You think I did that on purpose?”

“When did you turn it in?��� You ask and when his eyes widen you scream at his face. “See! You turned it on time. I fucking hate you!”

“I didn’t answer,” he tries to defend, a challenging edge in his voice, getting to your nerves more than the look on his face.

“First of all, I can see it in your face. You’re trying to look surprised and even scared, but you’re having the time of your life because, guess what, you can’t surpass me if you don’t play your stupid games.”

He snorts offended, gulping before leaning closer. “You think I can’t beat you?”

“It’s not what I think, it’s what the rankings say, it’s what our professors say, and it’s what all the external opportunities I’ve got say. But if you want to try to prove facts wrong, bring it on,” you shrug, grabbing your things and taking a step back. “No more dirty games from now on, Lee Donghyuck. Trust me, you don’t want me to start playing them too, you might not even see the top three if I do.”

The months to come are fire. You should keep minding your business but as soon as he opens his mouth in class you can’t press your lips together and fake it. You try, every time, but you fail.

“I just mean that the melody is what attracts people,” he argues during a discussion in the songwriting class.

You huff, shaking your head. “People care about the lyrics more.”

He scoffs loudly and the professor glares at him for the reaction but he still goes on. “People won’t listen to a song if the production sucks.”

You turn around, eyebrows pressed in a furrow. “And they won’t listen to a song if the lyrics are dumb, or tell a bad message.”

“Really? Catchy pop music is a thing even if you want so badly to maintain the purity of the art of music with only lyrical depth.”

“I love catchy pop songs, but there’s something objective in music and something subjective, if you paid attention to any of our classes you should know, right?”

The class holds back a laugh and the professor coughs, making you utter an apologize, more addressed to her than your enemy.

“Oh, trust me, I paid attention to class,” he retorts, mockingly smiling at you. “And we’re not talking about the quality but the appeal. People remember the rhythm of the song or the tune more than they remember the words.”

“And words can hold so much meaning for someone they will stick to them forever. Also, lyrics can have different interpretations and if you’re a good writer you can make one song fit for more occasions.”

“That’s dumb,” he says, looking at you up and down after scoffing. “Notes can transfer different emotions, what you said just doesn’t make sense, please.”

“Can we tone it down?” Professor Park warns, glaring at the both of you.

You nod and mutter another apology before speaking up again, “I believe that a good melody can easily attract people at first listen, but if we talk about the long run, a memorable song also needs good lyrics. And Mariah Carey herself said how being a songwriter makes your career last more, so I think it’s telling coming from one of the best voices ever.”

“I think you both make a great point,” the professor cuts the conversation off before you can jump at each other’s throat again. “It would be interesting to make a deeper analysis and maybe break down songs and compare data over time. If it was possible to keep the decorum…” she whispers the last word and you want to disappear because you hate the scene you gave. “But we need to move on with our lesson, so, as I was saying…”

Out of all the heated discussions you had in class, the one about the importance of production and lyrics, led to your worst nightmare, working on a project with him. Professor Park was so nice to pair you together because she wanted to see how your different points of view would’ve worked in the song you had to write and produce and even if you smiled and said, ‘it will be really motivating,’ to avoid yelling at her face, now you want to die.

You’re sure the first two knocks on the door don’t even reach the other side; your hits are too weak and the small apartment in that complex is too loud for anyone to hear. Is this the environment you have to work in today?

You roll your eyes and knock again, this time making sure it’s impossible for them not to hear you. You wait there only for a few seconds and then the door opens, revealing a boy your age you can’t remember.

“Oh, hi,” he cheers, big toothy smile beaming at you. “You must be here for Hyuck, right?”

You hum, nodding and murmuring, “Yes, I have to work on a project with Haechan.”

“Come in.”

You step inside the house and look around briefly before your eyes fall on the table in the small living room; there are books everywhere, headphones on the ground, boxes of food and empty water bottles, and most importantly talks too loud for four boys that were supposedly studying.

“Mark, can you lower the music?”

“Music is what I’m studying, I can’t,” the man you know well replies. “Why don’t you keep your pencil close to you? Jesus, there’s graphite everywhere.”

“You’re so annoying, I can’t go in my room, Jeno still didn’t take down the light boxes,” the brown-haired replies, sending a death glare to the boy at his side who quickly replies to his defence.  

“Hey, I finished shooting half an hour ago and now I have an essay to write, leave me alone.”

“They’re entertaining, aren’t they?” Haechan’s voice brings you out of the haze of his bickering friends, their conversation fades in the background while your anger level rises just seeing his face when you turn around.

“Surely more entertaining than you,” you retort before taking a step forward, pretending to know where to go in that house.

Haechan rolls his eyes, thanking his friend who opened the door —Jaemin— and coming next to you. “You don’t know where my room is yet, so if you’d like to follow me.”

You trail behind him, waving at the men around the table but it’s clear that none of them even noticed your presence. Luckily for you, Donghyuck’s room is at the end of the corridor and the mess that goes down in the other room is not hearable enough to make your day a living hell.

“So, do you have anything in mind?” He asks after you sit at one of the chairs at his desk.

You shake your head, fixing your skirt and pulling out some things you might need from your bag. “Wanted to hear from you first. Since the melody is so crucial, we should start from that,” you mock in a fake-sweet tone, and you feel his glare on your skin.

“You truly are a pain in the ass, you know?” He scoffs, moving his hair out of his face, gaze fixed on you.

“And for what? Because I agreed with your theory?”

“If you have a melody in mind it’s easier to make the words flow.”

“If the melody has nothing to do with the idea, you only have some notes and not a song.”

Now that there aren’t rows of chairs dividing you, the heated argument has led you face to face, literally. And you feel your heart pound in your chest from the anger and, also because it’s weird to be this close to a stranger you can’t stand.

“Okay, Miss Taylor Swift, why don’t you enlighten me and show me what you got?”

You glare at him but he’s unfazed, holding the eye contact proudly. “My lyrics will be better than your production.”

“And are those lyrics in the room with us?”

“God,” you groan, throwing your hands in the air and your head back. “You drive me insane.”

“And you are pretentious and still never prove all the things that that little, bratty, annoying mouth of yours says.”

Deep creases show on your forehead, and you have to turn around because if you see his face for a second more you will slap him. But you want this project done, you have four weeks to turn it in, but you want this torture to be over as soon as possible, so you know you have to put the pettiness aside.

“If we want a great result and good grades, we need good lyrics and a good melody,” you say, calmly facing him again, slowly watching as his face softens. “My words and your production. I don’t care what comes to us first, if you think it can be useful, we could even brainstorm some tunes and catchphrases and then build it around it.”

“Now you’re making some sense,” he exclaims, smiling widely before patting the top of your head. “So that head is not empty.”

“Oh, seriously? I’m trying to have a truce, and you fuck it all up again?”

“No, sorry, I just think you’re really smart when it comes to college but a bit annoying when it comes to life.”

“You’re just mad you can’t beat me.”

“I can,” he retorts smugly.  

“Then why don’t you do it?” You tease, cocking your head to the side.

Haechan scoffs, lips twitching in a quick smirk before he wets them. “I didn’t yet, but are you so sure I won’t?” He whispers, breath colliding with your lips and nose brushing yours, your brain doesn’t even register his hands on your legs right away, only when his fingers caress your bare skin right above the hem you wake up from the haze of having him so close.

“Time will — time will prove us,” you say, turning to the desk and scratching your neck. “Time will tell us, not prove us.”

Haechan snickers, moving closer to see on your tablet where you opened the notes, and smiles smugly. He thinks he found a way to distract you.

The project isn’t done in the first week, and to put a cherry on top, Professor Park decides to make it the big project for the end of the class, adding a cover for the single, a plan to sponsor it, and, if someone feels brave enough, even to record it. Even if you wanted to, a thing this big, and now with so much weight on the final grade, can’t be done in one week.

Yet, you think you’ll have to deal with Haechan only on your weekly meet-ups for that project and during lessons, you never imagined you would have to deal with him even during your library study on Wednesday.

“Why are you studying in the middle of the week?”

“You know, if I had to replicate a sound every time we start a conversation it would be ‘and now, I just want to sit back and relax and enjoy my evening, when all of a sudden I hear this agitating grating voice,’ and that is the sound that plays in my mind, actually.”

“Grating? Really?”

“Well, it’s the quote but it fits,” you reply sternly, bringing your attention back to the book. “Also, the question is not, why am I studying, but why aren’t you? How will you beat me if you don’t?” You wink, laughing under your breath. You don’t even need to see his reaction; you know his jaw tenses and his nostrils flare for a brief second every time you tease him.

You hear the chair in front of you scratch on the floor, and deeply hope he’s not sitting on it. But Haechan is sitting on it, staring at you as if he could steal the information from your brain and pass it to his.

“I am studying.”

“No, you’re not,” you reply, eyes widening when he rips a page from your notebook and a pen from your case. “So, what have you learned since now?”

You fight the urge to roll your eyes to the sky and instead run a hand on your face while sighing deeply. There’s just no way to get rid of him, right?

“You don’t even know what I’m studying.”

“Sound design,” he replies promptly, and you look down to see if he could’ve gotten a grasp from your books but there’s a paper on it and there’s not much written on it. Haechan smiles and moves to the chair next to you. “It’s because I started it too, there are too many notions, it would be a suicide to wait for the finals.”

“Oh, so you do something else other than think about me,” you tease, nudging him with your leg.

“Hey! I don’t think about you,” he replies firmly, frowning.

“Sure,” you huff, waving him off. “So, what do you know?”

“Well, all the basis we learnt last year, so the definition of sound, the path it follows, how it’s perceived based on the medium and how fast it travels through them, slowest through gases, faster through liquids, and fastest through solids, and that temperature effects it as well.”

You smile, content with the reply but you want to test him more. “What about the five characteristics of sound?”

“You think that’s a difficult one?” He asks, almost disappointed at the easiness of your question.

“Well, if you want to impress me so bad, I could ask you to list all the types of compressors?”

“You already know that?” He questions, quirking a brow, trying to think why he doesn’t remember them. “Wait, we didn’t do that in class.”

You laugh. “See, you’re witty. No, we haven’t done that yet, but since you love producing so much, I thought you knew it as personal knowledge.”

“Why do you talk as if you don’t want to do the same job as mine?” There’s a bit of annoyance in his tone, but there’s genuine curiosity in his eyes.

You shrug, pressing your lips together before diverting your gaze.

Haechan gasps. “Don’t tell me you don’t know what you want to do, yet, because I won’t believe it.”

“It’s not that I don’t know,” you reply, a low huff leaving your lips. “I’d like to try different things out, being a PR manager sounds interesting too. And I’m also pretty good at dancing, so that could be a career path.”

“It’s a shame we didn’t start practical courses, I would love to see you dance.”

“Yeah, sure, so you can mock me some more,” you groan.

He shakes his head. “No, you wouldn’t enroll in a program if you weren’t absolutely perfect at it, so I can’t come at your skills.”

“You’re so kind, I think I might love you,” you mock, moving closer to him and pouting before pushing him away with a light push on his chest and focusing on your papers again.

“And by the way, I know the characteristics of sound,” he says, right next to your face.  

You smile and think to yourself that this might be fun. “Good, go on and tell me.”

You don’t get why Haechan’s roommate bicker so much. Not that you could lecture them when, as soon as you walk inside his room, your talks won’t be much different than theirs (worse, probably). But you think you and Haechan, at least, have a reason to fight so much. His roommates are… weird. They are close. They all are, in an annoying way almost, always moving in packs and breaking their back to meet up even if their institutes are scattered around in the Academy. Yet, they get heated pretty easily when they sit in the living room, and you can only blame it on stress as you chuckle, standing against the countertop with a glass of water in hand.

“Donghyuck left you all alone?” Jeno enters the kitchen, distracting you from Renjun screaming at his painting and Mark cursing while he tries to come up with a melody for a small assignment you decided to not worry about —you have Haechan to worry about now.

“Yep, told me to be here at 2 pm just to be in the shower instead,” you reply with a tight smile on your face that makes him laugh and scroll the black hair out of his face.

“My fault,” he explains while pouring himself a glass. “I convinced him to stay at the basketball field when we finished and he couldn’t meet up with you smelling like rotten leftovers forgotten under the august sun.”

“Creative writing?” You ask after you chuckle at his description.

“Nope, photography, Renjun’s worst nightmare.”

You laugh. “It’s because you leave all those big things around his room, right?”

“Our room,” he says, empathising on the first word.

“Okay, communism king, your room but I don’t think your comrade is happy about it.”

Jeno laughs, and hums before gulping down a sip of water. “I’m not rich yet to afford a studio so he’ll have to deal with his bestie working, sweating, and crying his way to the top.”

“You could’ve been a nepo baby and have everything handed to you.”

“Sucks not to be one. I wouldn’t even bother being in Uni, just leaving my best life with my camera and daddy’s money.”

“What the hell are you talking about?” Haechan says entering the kitchen, hair still damp and casual housewear on.

“None of your business,” you reply, placing the glass in the sink and walking to the door. “Come on, we have a song to create. It could be our first Billboard number one.”

Haechan sighs, snatching the bottle of water from Jeno’s hand, briefly confused at his grinning face, and then follows you quickly.

“Are you trying to hit on my friends?” He asks, closing the door behind.

“Would you mind?”

“Yes, I’d hate having to deal with you in our group hangouts.”

“You already deal with me. More than you should since you always come to me even when we could not be together,” you say, tilting your head to the side, and sitting on your assigned chair. “Are you perhaps jealous? Do you want me all to yourself?”

“Nah, you can go and fuck all of them right no—”

“Okay,” you don’t even let him finish and you’re at the door, but he springs after you and stops you.

“What are you doing? I was kidding!”

“Why? Since when you can tell me what to do?”

Haechan groans and drags you back to your place, but he doesn’t sit just yet, he’s bent over to be close to you. “I need you here with me to work on this goddam song, and then you can go and have a gangbang in the living room, I don’t care.”

“You’d be mad you won’t be part of it,” you joke, having the time of your life watching his pissed-off expression as he stomps loudly back at his place. “Accept that you will never win with me, and maybe you won’t be so triggered every time we talk.”

“Shit, it’s late,” you murmur, lifting your head from the lyrics you’re trying to write down. Now you got the theme —it’s a love song that you hope won’t turn lame— and even a faint idea of a tune, and while Haechan tried to get inspired by other songs and tried instruments he wants to add to the track, you worked on the words.

“Don’t you think we’re trying too hard?” He whispers, placing the guitar on his bed before standing up and stretching.

“What do you mean?” You ask, lifting your neck so you can look at him after you turn around on the rotating chair.

“Music should come to you, it should be… spontaneous.”

You’d want to roll your eyes, mostly for the spontaneous part, but he’s right. Most artists don’t think about the songs they make, the song comes to their mind when they’re not thinking about it.

“Yes, but do you think we’re doing such a shitty job with this?”

He shakes his head, walking closer to you. “Not totally, I just think that if we want to be on top, we have to work around it differently.”

You gulp when he hovers over you and grips the side of the chair tightly. “Like?”

“We should… relax. Take our mind off of it and just wait for it to come,” he glances at the desk, studying the crumpled tries you gave up on and the only three phrases you were happy with written on the tablet. “We should get inspired,” he whispers, and you’re once again so focused on his face that you don’t feel his hand on your thigh, under the long black skirt you’re wearing, it surely must’ve been on you for a while if the fabric was already crumpled up and his fingers teased the hem of your panties between your hips and stomach.

“Is — is this how you inspire people?” You ask, glancing down with a rising chest but for some reason not pulling away.

“Don’t know, I’ve never done it before,” he chuckles, slowly moving closer to your core, observing the small signs of your body. “Should we see if it works?”

You hate him. You should be working on that lyric for the last half hour you have left. You hate him. He’s making it impossible for you to stick to your ‘minding my business’ plan that had worked through all your school years. You hate him, you do, and yet you nod, humming a feeble ‘yes,’ in response.

“Good,” rolls out of his lips, and it sounds so different from his usual tone, you can’t help but feel hot.

Your nails sink in the chair when his fingers slip right against your clit after he had your consent and starts teasing it.

“So, it’s a love song…” he says, and you frown, heart pumping louder as for a second you think he led you on and you looked like a pathetic horny loser, but his hand is still playing with your pussy and his face is still close to yours. “Chose that because you have somebody in mind?”

“We literally picked it for a reason last week, you —”

“God,” he shushes you up, pushing the panties to the side and teasing your entrance, it’s already damp, but not enough how he wants it. “Can you stop being so rational for once? I know why we picked it; remember I’m trying to inspire you.”

“Wait, you really think some fingering can inspire me to write a love so—” your words shut down when he places a hand on your mouth, eyes widening but pussy leaking an embarrassing amount of cum.

He quirks a brow in surprise and, shortly after, a smug smirk curls his lips. “Oh, so you’re into that?”

You can’t reply, but even if you could’ve, you’re not sure you would’ve said anything.

“So, anybody in mind?”

You shake your head. Your love life has been anything but exciting, and after a few tries, you were sure it wasn’t what you needed to focus on, especially because nobody sparked your interest. Nobody was worth moving your focus from your studies.

“Great, so I guess that’ll have to be me.”

“What?” You mutter muffled, closing your legs and moving on the chair.

Haechan rolls his eyes in his skull, keeping you in place. “Oh, come on, you can fake it for a few minutes. Don’t act disgusted, I’m knuckle-deep inside you,” he says.

“Not yet.”

“I’m knuckle-deep inside you,” he retorts after he pushes into you with two fingers, staring right into your eyes.

You bite back a moan and a curse under your breath. “Fine, but I don’t want to think,” you say. “Just, prove it to me. If you’re good, I’ll be inspired and I’ll come up with the lyrics, if you suck, we’ll go back to our original method.”

Haechan hates that he constantly has to prove things to you, and he hates even more that he does it, almost as if he’s your dog and he has to follow your orders while you keep him on a leash. But if this will work to come up with a great song, and in his outer-songwriting-course-plan to distract you, he won’t complain.

Honestly, he couldn’t complain even if it only meant to finger you. He might want to fight you every time he sees your face but, damn, what a face.

“Shit,” you moan. You don’t want to give him too much satisfaction, but he knows what he’s doing and it’s been way too long since someone touched you like that. Damn, even since you touched yourself like that. Maybe the whole ‘staring at your goals’ was taking some funny things away from you.

“Do you want to turn the song into a Hozier song?”

You huff, you just asked him one thing and his mouth is running again doing the opposite. “You wish you were this good to inspire a Hozier type of song.”

“Really?” He taunts, pressing his thumb on your clit, starting to tease the throbbing nub in circles.

“Yes,” your voice trembles, but your face shows confidence.

Haechan snickers, quickening the pace of his fingers, watching you fight against yourself to not show how much you’re loving it. “One second of this mouth on your pussy and I’d make you change your mind,” he whispers right against your ears, hot breath fanning your skin. “It’s a shame you don’t deserve it.”

You groan, head rolling back in disappointment, and that makes him laugh.

“You have to think twice before running that mouth, babe. Especially with me.”

“Never,” you talk back, opening your eyes and regretting as soon as they meet his. His gaze is too intense, and your brain is too far gone to keep it up.

Haechan only grins, enjoying your wrecked face and the sounds your pussy is making as his fingers keep working on you. You might try to deny him, but your body is speaking to him, and deeply so are you. It’s in your eyes, and your lips trembling, and in the beautiful moans that are rolling out of your tongue.

“Are you close, brat?”

You don’t have it in you to complain, or retort, the orgasm is right around the corner and you fear he would ruin the experience if you said something out of line.

“Answer me,” he orders, lightly slapping your thigh.

“Yes,” you breathe out, biting your lower lip to prevent the whole house from hearing you.

“Good,” he replies, smiling proudly and starting to move faster in and out of you, hitting your sweet spot every time he reaches the base, and torturing your clit with his thumb. And when it’s too much for you, you come. Body trembling against the chair, and legs pushing up as the shocks of pleasure run through you.

“Acid when you talk but sweet to taste,” he hums after pulling out his fingers from his mouth and you only glare at him as you quickly try to get yourself together again. 

“It’s late,” he says, staring at the clock. “Go home and let me know if this was useful somehow. And not by replaying it in your mind at night wishing I was there with you.” He winks and you slap his shoulder hard. “What the hell!”

“I won’t come up with anything on purpose, and I swear if you keep being so annoying, I’ll be terrible at this.”

“You would never, this makes up like 80% of our final grade.” He challenges you with a glare.  

“If I go down, you go down with me,” you retort, face to face, fiercely looking into his eyes.  

“It’s not smart of you.”

“It doesn’t have to be,” you smile sweetly before it drops from your face. “It’s a threat.”

It’s not like you’re trying to avoid him after what happened, but that’s exactly what’s going on. You don’t regret the act per se, you just can’t believe it was so easy for you to agree to do that with him. And you know he will use it against you for eternity.

A very dumb move from your side to give him the possibility to tease you even more and about something you couldn’t defend yourself from.

But if you try your best to change corridors when you see him from afar, walk quickly back to your dorm room, and sit on the opposite side in class (you fail at keeping your mouth quiet, but you need to discuss with him during lessons), it seems like he’s doing everything he can to be on your path.

“I’m starting to believe you’re a stalker,” you huff, clearly scaring him when you stop abruptly in the middle of the library and make him stop in his tracks.

“I’m not.”

You raise a brow, staring at him until he huffs and throws his hands up in the air. “Fine, fine, I was following you but only because I wanted to know what you will study.”

“Why do you care so much about what I study?”

“So I know how to beat you?”

“Isn’t it more exciting if you beat me only using your brain by putting some knowledge in it without seeing my cards?” You say, pushing a finger on his chest and making him walk backwards until his back hits the bookshelf behind him.

“I think sneaky games are funnier, though,” he whispers, hand moving to rest on your side. “Especially with you.”

You scoff, rolling your eyes, and taking a step back, freeing yourself from his hold. “The games you’re playing are not sneaky. Why are you always in my business?”

He shrugs. “Why not? So, what are we studying today?”

“We are not studying together.”

“Why? Isn’t it funny? The same study method, same hours, but one of us will be better than the other. That’s a truly equal comparison.”

You run a hand on your face and keep walking to find what you need. “If you didn’t distract me every two seconds, I would’ve already been like five pages into my studying session.”

“Oh, please, you are wondering around the library anyway. I’m just keeping you company.” His body follows yours like a shadow, his heat radiating so close to your skin that you think you might go insane.

“I don’t want your company,” you say, moving your eyes swiftly over the books in front of you as you try to find what you are looking for in the sociology section. When you finally find it, reminding yourself you have to buy it so you can annotate directly on yours, you walk back to your table, but Haechan is still beside you like a puppy on a string. “Can’t you just leave me alone?”

“I could, and I’d want to, but I can’t,” he says, sitting at your side, smiling widely when you glare at him.

“This is a useless lesson for you,” you try to dismiss him.

“Is it? Because we have the same ones.”

“Jesus, okay, fine,” you give up, throwing your head back and raising your voice enough to make some heads turn in your direction. His biggest talent is to exasperate you. “But we give ourselves a timing, and then when we’re done, we’ll have to answer five questions.”

“And who answers to them all?” He asks, there’s a taunting edge in his voice, and a grin on his face.

“Is the best,” you reply as if it’s obvious.

“Yeah, but there should be a prize.”

“Being better than you is the prize.”

Haechan scoffs, and he hates to admit in his mind that he finds your snarky remarks so fucking hot, if you weren’t in a public library and if his job on earth wasn’t to detest you, he would’ve already had you bent on the table.

“I love how you’re always so sure of being better than me.”

You snicker and send him a flying kiss. “Honey, I am better than you.”

“Wait, I just left out a detail!” You almost scream when you compare your answers for the nth time because you can’t believe he has done slightly better than you.

“That detail is important,” Haechan replies unfazed by your indignation.

“No, it’s not. We would have the same score if this was graded,” you insist, feeling more angered than you should. It’s nothing serious, it shouldn’t be serious, but with him, there’s your pride on the line.

“But this is between me and you, so I win. Also, my phrasing in the second answer is better than yours.”

“Shut up, it’s not.”

“It is, and you just have to admit you lost,” he insists, leaning over, staring at you with a challenging raised brow.  

You swallow, eyebrows furrowing, and then you sigh. “Your advantage is minimal. And you only won a battle, because I’m winning a war.”

“Fine, Napoleon, I still won and you’re coming to my place even Saturday so we can do this some more.”

“Hey, Napoleon sucked! He lost the most important battles, the only ones he should’ve won.”

“That’s why I called you that,” he winks, clicking his tongue mockingly.  

“Oh, you think you will win the war? You’re wrong, honey, Waterloo is yours.”

Haechan laughs, standing up after putting his things in his bag. “I’m waiting for you on Saturday…” he says and before you can complain he starts singing, “Waterloo, I was defeated, you won the war…”

“Oh, shut up!” You say, hitting his arm as you push him away, but he giggles and walks away continuing with the tune.

“Waterloo, promise to love you forevermore. Waterloo, couldn’t escape if I wanted to…”

And you think that if only he didn’t try to sabotage your final grades in Music History, you might even find him funny.

Haechan hates you.

If he was sure he didn’t before, he is sure that he does now.

He can’t wrap his head around the fact that you, Miss zero social skills, and negative 100 friends, can be so good at debating. On every fucking topic. You’re well-spoken, witty, smart, somehow it looks like you know everything about everything. And even when you don’t know (and you always specify it — which he shouldn’t find so hot, but he does) you always come up with perfectly thought theories and analyses coming from the small knowledge you have on the topic. The thing he also hates is that you never sound like you’re showing off your skills, it’s just really nice to listen to you and —when he’s not the one intervening against you— you’re the sweetest person ever and everybody in every class absolutely adores you.

He wonders if you’re a robot. Maybe you’re some sort of artificial intelligence sent there to conduct studies on humans’ stupidity, and he was unlucky enough to start a fight with you. You just don’t seem real. And he’d love to dig deeper but he doubts he will find anything relevant.

You might be smart, but you also look incredibly boring. He tried to find out if you had interests, or anything that could distract you, but his research led nowhere. The biggest problem is that he hates you, but not to the point that he wants to get you suspended from University, so he has to find another way to make you slip.

Apparently, you’re playing the same game, but even at this, you are thinking faster and smarter.

“Where the fuck are all my anthropology notes?” Haechan mutters as he looks through his library, moving books and notebooks around, thinking he has gone insane. “Mark!” He screams, rushing to the desk to search again but he knows where he left everything; on the second shelf of the small library in his room, on top of the music theory book that hasn’t moved since a week.

“Yes?” His housemate peaks from the door only with his head.

“Did you mistake our notes?”

“What notes?” Mark furrows, backing away from his friend who looks out of his mind.

“The anthropology notes,” he says, voice full of annoyance because, why does Mark never know anything? He’s in the same course and, yet, he’s always somewhere else with his head. 

“Man, I don’t even take notes during that lesson.”

“What do you mean you don’t? Ugh, never mind,” Haechan groans, rolling his eyes because he can’t believe he can’t count on anybody. “Have you seen them somewhere?”

“Nope,” Mark replies, entering the room. “I mean, I don’t know what they look like.”

“You know right we have a test tomorrow? The winter break is close, and some courses have it. You are studying, right?”

“Yeah, just not every…thing…”

Haechan rolls his eyes, shaking his head. “Why don’t you like it? I mean, I know it’s not really music related but it teaches you so much about other cultures and there’s a whole part about how music is different from culture to culture.”

“Next semester, we didn’t get there, yet. It’s a bunch of complicated terminology and theories I just don’t get,” Mark defends. He never understood why Haechan loved studying so much. He is only there for the music, and a few other theoretical lessons, but some courses don’t make any sense to him.  

“So you plan on being terrible tomorrow?”

“I just want a decent result; I don’t strive for perfection like you and your girlie.”

Haechan almost chokes on his saliva. “My girlie? Who’s my girlie?”

“That girl in class you always get into heated arguments with, and then she comes here and I’m pretty sure you make out when no one’s watching,” Mark says so calmly it infuriates Haechan more than if he was teasing him.  

“Shut the hell up! She’s my mortal enemy and while you have been paired with Yangyang for the song project, Professor Park thought it was nice putting her and me together.”

“Yeah, you can still make out with your mortal enemy,” he snorts, hitting his friend with a playful elbow hit.  

“Mark, shut up and leave, I have to study,” he tries to cut short, pushing his friend out of the room.  

“With what notes?”

“I don’t know. I left them on the shelf, and nobody entered my room since Saturday when she — Oh, my God.”

When your name resonates in the empty classroom after you’ve taken the anthropology test, your blood freezes for a second.

“Haechannie,” you cheer cheekily, turning around and pushing your tote bag far up your shoulders.

“Don’t,” he warns, lifting a finger to stop you from starting anything. “I have to talk to you.”

“Sure, the test was easy, right? You might have beaten me this time,” you say but you have to hold back a laugh when you scan his furious, pissed-off expression.

“Yeah, if you studied, it was,” he retorts venously.  

“And you surely studied,” you say, faking innocence.  

“You can study when you have something to study on,” he says through gritted teeth.

“Yes, and you do,” you still play dumb, but when he calls your surname, you know he’s not joking anymore. “Yes?”

“Do you, perhaps, know where the fuck my notes are?”

You look around, shrugging. “Where are your notes, Donghyuck?”

“I don’t know, I’m asking you for a reason,” he retorts, plastering a fake smile that doesn’t reflect in the darkness of his pupils.

“They might’ve mixed up with my stuff when you invited me over Saturday?” You sing-song, tilting your head to the side and shrugging.

“Might’ve,” he repeats, a hint of bitterness in his tone. “It was just a coincidence.”

You shrug again, pushing your lower lip in a pout. “Sometimes… things happen.”

“And if it wasn’t on purpose, why couldn’t you just text me?”

“Because I didn’t notice,” you reply innocently, batting your lashes, knowing it will get on his nerves even more.  

He groans, closing his eyes to calm himself down before he speaks again, “then how do you know?”

“Don’t know, just making assumptions,” you say. “It turns out I’m really good at it.”

“I swear, I — I want to… I want to —”

“To what? Choke me because I got my revenge? Oh, it turns out it’s really not that funny when someone plays with you?” You mock, and in doing so you get closer to him.

“Goddamn,” he groans before your back meets the hard wall of the room and his lips meet yours in a heated kiss, his hands on your body and yours limp at your side as you’re too shocked to react. “I want to — I want to kill you, actually.”

You smirk, chuckling straight at his face. “Filled the space with the wrong letter, ‘cause you’re kissing me.”

“Maybe my kiss is lethal, maybe there’s poison on my lips.”

“Oh, you’re so romantic you’d die for me?” You coo, placing a hand on your heart.

Haechan groans, throwing his head back. “Why are you always so, so, so, God,” he curses, running his fingers in his hair. “I want my notes back, now.”

“I don’t have them,” you say, grinning because he looks wrecked. You know it wasn’t very morally mature for you, but it was only fair. Also, you know he doesn’t arrive last minute with anything, he had already studied everything and you’re sure he had answered everything on that paper, he just couldn’t revisit.

“My notes back when you pass by for the project or it’s war.”

“It’s already war,” you retort when he walks past you to leave.  

Haechan turns around, locking his gaze with yours. “Oh, honey, it can get so much worse than this.”

You felt like testing your luck when his notes weren’t back on his desk, but you had no idea it could get worse than that, until it got.

When he deleted an essay from your computer and you had to remake and finish the work of five days in five hours, so you cancelled a project he was working on for another assignment you had. And then he erased the recording of a course from your phone, so you ripped his notebook in front of his eyes (and his roommates too). The list of petty things is long, and you’re not really proud (you’re sure not even Haechan is) of what you did, especially when things started becoming personal. You two want to destroy each other, but you are honestly just killing yourselves in the meantime.

Your book slams closed so hard that you almost zip your hands in it, and by protecting your fingers you lose track of where you’ve been. “Get lost,” you whisper bitterly as soon as you recognize the hand that did that.

“No thanks,” he replies, sitting next to you.

“I’m trying to read a book in the quiet of the library, so can you leave me alone?”

“It’s a public space, I can sit wherever I want,” he replies, leaning back into the chair, and widening his legs under the table. You know ‘cause you feel his knee push against yours and you have to retract your leg to avoid the contact.  

You glare at him, breathing deeply through your nose because you can’t make a scene here. You two almost got kicked out of a class two days ago, and that was humiliating enough. So, you think that ignoring him is the best thing you can do.

“Wow, so you have a bit of self-control and don’t talk back. Never thought I’d see that day,” he replies sarcastically to your silence with an amused grin that curls his lips.

You hold back a scream and huff loudly, “I truly need you to get fucked right now.”

“Nevermind,” he jokes, pulling a tight forced smile and you close the book again, now too annoyed to even focus on the words on the paper. “I came here in peace, by the way.”

“Yeah, your peace is war in my country,” you reply bitterly, trying to shift away but those damn chairs make the loudest sounds at the smallest movements.  

“That’s because you’re full of prejudices.”

You inhale deeply, rubbing your temple to soothe the headache you know is about to arrive. “Haechan, tell me what you want and then leave me alone.”

He smiles, happy you are finally willing to listen, before he clears his throat. “Okay so, I have to say that some of this is funny. I mean, only the debates and these random talks, but I’m not the biggest fan of all the other stuff we’re doing, so why don’t we bring it back?”

“Bring it back? As in?” You question, raising a brow in confusion.

“I liked it better when we would just compete without tearing ourselves down. If you cancel, ruin, or save one of my projects with the word boobs in it before sending it to the professor another time, I will go insane.”

You hold back a chuckle. You have to admit it was your lowest move, but it was quite funny when Professor Choi had a whole talk in class about being careful before sending out finished projects and exposed him in front of the class.

“No, it wasn’t funny,” he mutters sternly, watching you fight with all the muscles of your face to don’t break into a laugh.

“No, sorry, it was,” you defend, voice trembling, threatening a chuckle to come out. “Like Iloveboobsdemo1 is the best thing I’ve ever come up with. That could be the title of our song.”

“If you want to get expelled from all the academies in the world that would be a perfect idea,” he says, trying to be serious because seriously it wasn’t funny, but when you stare into each other’s eyes for too long none of you two can hold back the laughter anymore. “Okay, fine. It was funny, but I don’t want that to happen again.”

“So? Do you give up?” You taunt, tilting your head after placing it on your palms.

“I’m not giving up, we are changing strategies of our combat.”

“Oh, okay. You will lose anyway in the end, so if this can be more beneficial for me in the meantime, it’s fine.”

He sighs, rubbing his temples, and you chuckle. “Don’t laugh,” he whispers distraught. “I… could you sometimes at least pretend to give me some kind of chance of winning with you and not feeling like you’ll always have the last laugh?”

“I just replied.”

“No, a reply would’ve been ‘Yes, Haechan, don’t worry, we can change it.”

“Too wordy,” you comment, waving him off with a movement of hand.

“You said like ten words more,” he replies, voice breaking in his throat in a whine, but you decide to act as if you don’t notice.  

“It still flowed better. See, that’s why the lyrics are in my hands. You’re really not good with words.”

“You keep doing that,” he groans, slamming a hand on the table, attracting some curious eyes on you before you glare them away. “But it’s fine, okay, so… no more dirty games? No more sabotaging?”

“Yes, no more. Well, not like this, but we can still play a bit, right?” You ask, retracting your hand right when you’re about to hold his to seal the deal.

“Yes, but nothing weird, or you know what I mean.”

You hum, reaching out again and shaking his hand. “It’s a deal, then?”

“It’s a deal.”

The deal somehow turns into Haechan always being next to you. He’s like a shadow, sitting next to you in class, studying with you in the library, and so on. You don’t mind him when he minds his business, but he rarely does. Especially during lessons when you need to focus on what the professors are saying.

You roll your eyes when Haechan sneaks a paper next to your notebook and you read ‘how would a dog wear pants’ with two badly drawn different options on it.

“Does it look like the right moment?” You whisper under your breath, side-eyeing him, and trying to keep your focus on the lesson. You see him nod and decide to mark the second option, thinking that he’d be happy with it, but he has the urge to hear a whole dissertation on something that will never happen, right now.

“Why?” He asks as if you’re not in the middle of a lecture.

“Not now.”

“But this lesson is boring,” he whines, poking your side with his elbow.  

You huff, covering it with a cough when you realize it is too loud, and then take a sip from your bottle of water.

“You didn’t answer,” Haechan insists, this time poking your arm with the cap of the pencil. 

“I picked one,” you mutter, pointing at the paper with your head.  

“Elaborate and change my mind.”

“You think it’s the first one?” You say in disbelief, the utter shock causing the tone of your voice to be louder than you expected.

“Any problems there?” The Professor asks, and you feel your blood freeze.

“Mh, no, nothing, my pen has no more ink, I was asking for another one,” you lie, thanking God you two are sitting far in the back of the class and the Professor can’t hear and can’t see that your pen isn’t dead at all. So, with a suspicious nod, the middle-aged man goes on with the lecture while Haechan giggles beside you.

You glare at him, and he shrugs raising his hands. “If you kept quiet, it wouldn’t have happened.”

“If you let me concentrate on the lesson instead of asking dumb questions, it wouldn’t have happened,” you retort, and he laughs under his breath again, but doesn’t ask more questions. He still ruins your notes with ugly flowers and other drabbles and you let him be because at least he’s being silent and paying attention.

“So, you really are giving up,” you say when the bell rings and the class starts emptying.

“What makes you think that?” He asks, putting his things in his bag, just like you.

“You didn’t write anything down.”

Haechan shrugs. “Why would I? I have your notes.”

“No, you don’t,” you say but before you can realize he rips the notebook from your hands and snaps a picture of the two pages you wrote. “Hey! That’s not fair. That’s my work.”

“Your amazing summarizing skills and my artistic skills. I don’t gift beautiful sunflowers to just anybody.”

“Beautiful sunflowers?” You snicker, starting to walk down the stairs, pushing the notebook into your bag as Haechan follows at your side. “If Renjun saw them he would have a heart attack.”

“Can’t compare Vang Gogh to Picasso.”

“Keep Picasso out of your mouth,” you say threateningly.

“Still, aren’t you happy you will think of me while studying?” He bats his lashes, and you hold back an entertained grin.

“Can’t wait to go through the absolute most painful ulcers every time I glance down on those things.”

He gasps offended, bringing a hand on his chest. “See, this is what happens when you spend all your days on socials and your brain doesn’t know how to appreciate real art anymore.”

“You are so annoying, and distracting. Next time if you sit next to me, I’ll push you off the chair,” you warn, and only when a colder blow of wind hits you, you realize you’re walking back to your places together.

“Right!” He says and you think it’s the good time he leaves you alone, but no, he’s not done. “You didn’t explain why the dog would wear it only on its hind legs.”

“Is it really that serious? Why do you want to know so badly?”

“It’s funny. I’m sick and tired of hearing you only discuss music, sociology, and the media and other stuff.”

You sigh. But you still have a bit to walk, so you might as well have to deal with him and his hypothesis about dogs. “Because pants have to cover your lower body, so legs, and ass and everything else. If you wear them like the first option, half of the ass is out. And also, the back limbs correspond to our legs, we’re divided in half horizontally, not vertically.”

He doesn’t reply right away, processing your answer. And you think you broke him.

“Oh!” You exclaim. “Zootopia, animals wear clothes like the second picture.”

“Really? You had a whole statement that made perfect sense and then you added a cartoon to your thesis?”

“But it still makes sense,” you argue back. “And, most importantly, I made you agree with me,” you wink before stopping when you reach your complex.

“Fine, fine, you’re right,” he gives up before looking behind you. “You live here?”

You nod, searching for the keys in the tote bag, and you think it’s time to stop pretending that’s Mary Poppins’ bag and throw away some useless stuff.

“I thought there were only rooms here,” he states, looking at the big complex a few meters away from the university.  

“There are common dormitories, and then there are some one-room flats. I got one with a scholarship when I graduated. It’s less expensive than an apartment and I get a small place all to myself.”

“Oh,” he whispers. He doesn’t know why he thought you had roommates. “So, you’re alone, alone?”

“No, you can’t come in,” you say.

“I didn’t ask that,” he frowns, offended you would even imply that. “I thought you… well, oh, never mind.”

“Yes, I’m alone, so I can do whatever the hell I want. If I want to cook, I cook. If I want to stay up all night to study, I do that. If I want to dry the clothes in the middle of the living room, that is also the bedroom and the kitchen, I do that.”

“Is it really that small?”

“It’s decent, I guess. It’s spacious enough to live in it comfortably but not big to the point I have to waste days cleaning it.”

“Maybe we could study there, no loud roommates screaming in the living room.”

“I like the mess of your place, and I’ll be there Friday.”

Haechan rolls his eyes. “Come on, I hate the library. Can’t we for once study at your place?”

“I never invited you to my studying sessions,” you groan.

“But you love it.”

“No.”

“Yes, you have an orgasm every time you know something better than me.”

“Please, shut up,” you wave him off, starting to walk away.

“I don’t care, I’ll be here tomorrow,” he screams when you’re too far, clearly running away from him.  

“And I’ll be at the library!”

You never go to the library, to be honest, you were just unlucky enough that the washing machine thought it was the right moment to leak all over the floor and Haechan found you at home with your coat on the couch, the tote bag next to the door and your jeans half soaked as you tried to fix the mess on the pavement.

From that moment, your meet-ups become more and more periodic, whether it’s at your place, his or at the library. You hate to admit it, but the competition drives you forward, and you love seeing his face every time you defeat him somehow.

“Are you busy this Saturday?” He asks while he strums with the guitar to come up with a chord progression for your song.

“Yeah, why?” You reply, poking the cap of the pen to your cheeks, drifting your eyes on him.

“Want to go out with me?”

“What? Saturday is my day to study and do my things like I want to,” you say. It was the only day, along with Sunday, you had to fix all your notes without being wrecked from the lessons of the day, or listen to lessons while cleaning the house, and so on. You tried to squeeze everything there so Sunday could be your free day and you could dedicate it to your hobbies and to write for the magazine you worked for, nothing too serious, just some money to add to the survival costs that your parents would send you, and the monthly entrance you had when you would get called to help a dance studio downtown.

“Great, we’re going out tomorrow.”

You huff, slumping back on the chair. “No, we’re not. I’m busy.”

“You can take one afternoon for me,” he replies, placing the instrument next to him. “Come on, it will be fun.”

“Where would you even take me?”

Haechan smirks. “It’s a surprise.”

When Saturday afternoon arrives, you don’t know how to feel. You spent the whole night trying to find a positive thing about it, and the good thing is that for once you are leaving the house to do something funny —you hoped so— not all by yourself. The bad thing is that the person you are going to do this thing with is Haechan.

You try not to worry about it too much, he’s not that bad when he wants to, and he’s funnier than you’d like to admit, so maybe taking a small break from the obsessive studying and tidying, will do you some good.

When you hear the knocks on the door, you grab your coat and your bag and head to open it.

“Hi,” he says. “Anything to fix before we leave?”

“Don’t say that, they will hear you and break all together.”

Haechan laughs, briefly looking at your body, mostly covered because it’s still cold outside and you have way too many layers on you. “Toy Story for home appliances?”

“Yeah, that would be my life,” you reply, closing the door behind you and walking outside of the complex. “So, where are you taking me?”

“I told you, it’s a surprise,” he says. “Don’t expect anything big, I just don’t want to hear you nag about it.”

“Hey, I appreciate almost everything.”

“Yeah, it’s the almost that worries me,” he says. “Hop in the car.”

“You have a car?”

“Yeah, it’s right in front of your eyes,” he answers, gesturing to the space next to you.  

You turn around, holding back a laugh when you see the old blue car, it’s surely a Hyundai, you have no idea about the model, but you know for sure it’s falling apart. “This is the car?”

“Yes, I’m sorry I’m poor.”

“It will get us killed,” you say opening the door, letting out a breath of relief when the handle doesn’t stay in your hold.

Haechan rolls his eyes and sits in. “Can you don’t be overdramatic for one second?”

“I’m stating facts. Are the airbags still working? Is the oil level high enough? The battery? And the water for —” Your eyes widen when his lips crash on yours. At first, it’s a harsh attempt to shut you up, but then his lips shily go for more, moving along yours with a small flame of need.

“I won’t kill you, but please shut up,” he begs when he pulls away, sooner than you want to, later than he should’ve.  

You gulp, trying to shake the dizziness and the way his kiss made you feel lightweight. You might occasionally still want to wrap your hand around his neck but he’s quite good at being a charmer.

“I’m giving you the privilege to pick the music,” he says once you’re on the open road, the lights of the city shine against the windows and the other cars pass beside you.

“Yeah, can I connect my Spotify to the car? Oh, wait, this model from the future directly brings the singers into your backseats so you can have a live concert,” you joke after seeing the car radio.  

“Wanted to take the metro?”

You laugh. “No, I’m just… why did you say that as if I could connect the aux or the Bluetooth? It was funny.”

“Fine, you’re forgiven,” he says. “Just play it through your phone.”

You hum, already deep into the scrolling of your music catalogue. “Can I put my driving playlist?”

“You have a car?”

“No, I have a driving playlist.”

“Why would you have a driving playlist if you don’t have a car?”

“Because right now it comes useful,” you wink, pressing play without waiting for his answer.

Haechan smiles, quickly glancing at you before his attention is fully on the road. “Baekhyun?” He asks with surprise when the second song starts. “You listen to Baekhyun?”

“Everybody should listen to him,” you reply, already getting defensive because his next words could be the last straw of your ‘relationship.’

“Oh God,” he whispers.

“If you tell me you’re a hater I’m jumping out of the running car and changing the trajectory of your life forever,” you warn, turning to the side to have a better view of him.

“Me? A Baekhyun hater? He’s my father! I just can’t believe you have some sort of sense and taste.”

You slap his shoulder, making the both of you break into a light-hearted laugh.

“You scared me for a second,” you say, placing your hand on your beating heart.  

“Sorry. So, it turns out we have one thing in common,” he jokes, creases creating at the corner of his eyes as his features soften and a genuine smile blooms on his face.

You shrug. “I mean, we have many things in common, actually. That’s why we get along so badly. Maybe it’s true, opposite attracts and that’s why we don’t attract.”

“I think we do attract… proved it a few times.”

“Once,” you reply immediately.

“Twice, with the kiss…”

“You did that to shut me up.”

“I don’t shut up just…” anybody… “I felt like kissing you.”

You smirk, loving watching him struggle. “Nothing wrong to admit you find me attractive,” you tease.

“Unfortunately, your mouth ruins everything.”

“My mouth is the thing that attracts you the most about me, or else you wouldn’t keep lingering around me like bees on honey.”

“Bees make honey, they’re not attracted to it. Bears are.”

“Yeah, you look like a bear, you know?”

He glares at you, and you laugh. “Bears are cute.”

“And attracted to honey.”

“And do I look like honey?” You ask teasingly. “Wait! You always call me honey!”

“It’s a mockery honey, not a sweet honey. You’re not my honey.”

You think about it. “You’re not my honey… could be a line of our song.”

“No academy talking today. It’s forbidden. You have to forget about uni.”

“Fine, I’ll forget about it just for today.”

The dates with Haechan, you can call them dates, right? Well, anyway, whatever they are, they become more common. At first, you tried to reject his weird, most of the time, last minute, proposal, because they would throw in the air all of your plans, but after a while, you somehow still found a way to go back on track without screwing up your academic goals.

“Why don’t you stay?” Haechan asks. It’s another Friday afternoon, and you two met up to go on with the song’s project. Much to your dismay, you have to admit you are the one who’s holding you two back. It’s like words can’t come out of you, not like you want to, at least. But Haechan’s not mad at you. Actually, you like the atmosphere around you when you lock in his room for those sessions. One time, he even made you try edibles to see if you could come up with something, but you ended up making out on the floor instead, so you stopped going for that path.

“I don’t know,” you say, huffing when you glance at the words in front of you and remind yourself that they don’t make sense. “I was thinking of going home and maybe listening to your tracks and…”

“Come up with something?” He drags the chair closer to you and steals your papers to read them. “It’s not as bad as you made it to be.”

“Yeah, it’s a good song, but it’s basic. And I feel like it’s a bit… cliché.”

“You do know that everything has already been written?” He jokes, but it’s not a teasing remark, it’s the truth, and he’s genuinely trying to lift your spirit.  

“I know, but it’s not my style, this is not how I usually write, I —”

“You write?” He stops you and only then you realize what you said. “Like, you have written songs before?”

You nod, shame pervading you when he stares at you with an expression you can’t comprehend. “Are you going to make fun of me?”

“No, I just thought you preferred lyrics over production, but I had no idea you were a lyricist.”

“Now, lyricist… I try, sometimes…”

Haechan smirks, poking your tummy making you cover it with your arms. “So there is something you’re insecure about.”

“Oh, I knew you were going to have a ball about this,” you groan, rolling your head back.

“No, hey, it’s just… I’ve never seen you like this about something you do. You are confident, usually,” he explains with no hint of mockery in his voice.

You sigh, looking at your feet tapping the ground and then look back at him. “It’s just… very personal,” you confess. “I think it’s clear I don’t have lots of friends. I used to, back at home, but here I’m alone. But even back then I’ve always felt like there was something I couldn’t completely let out. That’s why I love dancing, I can express myself in a different way, but I found out it still wasn’t enough and when I started playing the piano again I… started writing. It started almost as a joke, and it was a cheesy break-up song when my ex cheated on me, like the cheap version of drivers license,” you joke and he laughs with you.

“But it was still better than this, I guess?”

You hum, shaking your head. “Nah, my first song was a mess, but then it was like I just couldn’t stop writing, so my songs became my diary. Every time something happens, I write about it.”

He hums, moving the chair closer until your legs intertwine. “So, to write a love song you would need to fall in love?”

You’re taken aback by his question, and don’t reply right away. “No, I just need to be inspired. I’ll watch some movies, and it will come to me.”

His face twists in mild disgust as he shakes his head. “Movies are fake, it’s better to live things on your skin.”

“I don’t have time to date, and I can’t just find someone that easily,” you say laughing. “But don’t worry, I won’t make us fail. I’ll try to edit this and make it work if I really can’t come up with anything else.”

Haechan is not convinced, it’s clear in his face and the way his leg is bouncing nervously, but he doesn’t get back on the conversation. “Are you staying?”

“I have some notes to edit and —”

“You have tomorrow,” he cuts you off. “Come on, I have to do it too.”

You groan, hating the way you can’t say no to his big eyes staring at you. “Fine, but not too much.”

It’s useless to say that none of you get those notes written better.

“God, are you fucking Professor Kim?” Haechan growls, grabbing your wrist and stopping you in the college corridors right out of Music History class, the last lesson of Tuesday.

“What?” You babble out, surprised by his angry tone and his speculation.

“No cause you’re his favourite and it’s driving me insane,” he utters under his breath, glaring at you.

“I’m his favourite?” You tease, tilting your head to the side, loving the fire that turned on between you two. It had been three calm months, the bickerings were too intellectual and you missed this.

“Yeah, I gave him the exact same answer and he found the tiniest thing to say I wasn’t right, just so he could hear yours instead and praise you.”

“Oh, poor baby boy, Professor Kim didn’t give you head pats and now you’re mad?” You pout, patting his head in a mockery gesture. 

Haechan groans, throwing his head back, and pushing you into the nearest empty class, closing the door behind.

“Haechan, what are y—”

“Shh,” he says, shushing you with a stern gaze and a squeeze of your wrist. “You passed by his office the other day, didn’t you? Needed extracurricular help ‘cause you didn’t understand something,” he mocks with a high-pitched voice. “Taught you how to play his flute in a historically accurate way?”

You’d love to laugh at his terrible blowjob-music reference but when his gaze darkens, you only chuckle, and that’s enough to drive him mad.

“God, for you is just a game, isn’t it?”

“You really think I fucked Professor Kim?”

“No, but I’m pretty sure he fantasizes about having you bent over his desk and, fuck, it drives me mad.”

“You wish he fantasized about having you bent on his desk?” You joke, smirking.

He groans. “No, I hate the way he looks at you, and talks to you, the last thing he had to do today was to call you a good girl in front of the whole class.”

Your lips curl in an amused grin, but your heart —and something else— flutter at the way he says ‘good girl,’ you try not to show it and go on with your teasing. “Not my fault I’m good, and I’m interested in his subject.”

“Your fault you lick his boots,” he groans, pushing you flat against the door, standing so close to your nose. “I know you’re smart and you don’t need to ride a dick to be first in class but…” he stops, inhaling your scent, and leaning against your forehead.

You lift his head with two fingers under his chin, and lean in, whispering, “you still want to see me bent over a desk, and you want to be the one railing me, isn’t it?”

He doesn’t reply, not verbally at least. The only answer is a guttural moan and two arms lifting you, making your legs wrap around his waist as he kisses you roughly.

“Hyuck,” you moan into the kiss when he starts walking toward the desk, sitting you on the edge.

“Yeah?”

“We can’t — we — this is, we can get expelled…”

He snickers. “Be quiet and nobody will even hear us.”

“What if they lock us inside?”

“Shut up,” he groans again, kissing you another time as his bag drops on the floor. “You drive me so fucking mad, you have no idea.”

You snicker under your breath, but your heart loses a beat when his hands roam on your thighs, moving closer and closer to your heat. “Wait,” you whisper.

“Wait, what?” He hums, cupping your chin and lowering your head, staring straight into your eyes. Haechan scoffs when your thighs squeeze against each other and he can see you gulping. “Don’t act like you don’t want this,” he whispers, leaning closer to your lips, making you believe he’ll kiss you, but you only get a taste of his thumb rubbing over your full lips, “don’t act like you don’t want me.”

“Haechan!” You scream when he rips off your tights, the tear of the fabric resonating in the room as you look down in shock. “I’m gonna kill you,” you groan but he’s not bothered in the slightest.

“They were getting in the way, and I get rid of everything that gets in my way,” he says with a smirk.

You laugh mockingly. “Then why am I still here?”

His brows furrow and a small pout forms on his face but he shrugs it off. “I’m taking care of you, I told you,” he groans, kissing you harshly. “You’re not winning the war.”

“Oh, and your military strategy is to fuck me?”

“Yeah, until you forget everything.”

You huff loudly when he finishes ripping the tights from your legs, the only pieces left the ones trapped in your shoes, and you’re glad the skirt is long enough to don’t make you freeze on the way back home.

“So much better,” he says proudly, staring at his work of art, letting his hands wander on your now bare skin. “And, now, let’s find out if there’s a way to shut you up.”

You look at him in anticipation, waiting for his next move as if your life depends on it. And you hate to be so eager, you hate you fantasized on it more than you should’ve, but you want to know what his lips feel like. And it’s almost as if Haechan hears your secret thoughts.

“What do you want, sweetheart?” He taunts, kneading his fingers on your flesh.

“Nothing,” you mutter, trying to sound more confident than what you are.

Haechan laughs at you, shaking his head as he slowly gets on his knees, looking up at you. “You are always so fucking proud and annoying.” His hands rest on your knees before he pushes them far apart, forcing you in place as you uselessly try to close your legs. He tsk, shaking his head. “Don’t act ashamed, I’ve already felt you, and tasted you.”

You don’t reply. It’s hard to keep eye contact but this is bigger than sex, this is a game between you two and, he might not beat you in class, but he’s beating you right now.

His laugh brings you back to earth and you hate the smug smirk that’s sitting on his face. “So you do get quiet, thought I needed to give you a taste of my mouth to shut you up.”

You open your mouth to retort but the stern glare that flashes on his face is enough to put you back in your place.

“Good girl,” he says and your body trembles before you can even try to hide it. “Should I get a better taste of you?” He stares at you, waiting for an answer that doesn’t come, not like he wants to at least. “Use your words, babe. You know how to run that mouth when you want to, so, beg for it.”

“Fuck, no,” you retort, trying to move away but his hold on you doesn’t give any signs of loosening up.

“Okay, then,” he says, slowly standing up, and grabbing his bag. “See you around.”

“What?” You squeal, grabbing his wrist. “What are you doing?”

“Leaving,” he replies, shrugging.

“That’s not fair,” you reply, and he snickers.

“What? Are you wet? Do you want me?”

You don’t expect that reply and struggle to find the words, even more now that he’s standing between your open legs, keeping them apart, and his eyes are staring down at you, pinning you down in place. “I don’t want you,” you lie, swallowing the gulp in your throat when his right hand sits on your waist. “I just… I want to fuck.”

“Oh, do you? Well, there are plenty of people here, I’m sure many of them would want you. You know, even if you don’t pay attention to anybody, people look at you,” he whispers, caressing your jaw with his other hand. “First on the list is Professor Kim. Don’t you want to feel the thrill? Come on, go to his office now, so I can have something to hold against you forever.”

You chuckle. “Yeah? Want to blackmail me so I can do all the essays for you? Maybe you’ll get the best grades like this,” you tease, pulling him closer by the collar of his shirt and making him groan.

He licks his lips, staring at yours, and you smirk. “I don’t need you to be first, and you know it.”  

“Do I?” you tease. “Want to be first at something?”

“Don’t,” Haechan warns, eyes darkening even more while the tent in his tight pants becomes even more evident.

“What? You can be the first one who fucks me on a desk if you quit playing hard to get.”

“I’m not playing hard to get,” he replies, leaning even closer, your bodies are pressed together and you can feel his hard dick press against you. “I won’t be the one begging, especially to eat you out,” he groans, cupping your chin unexpectedly. “Don’t act as if you didn’t think of this before. I’ve seen the way you get lost in my fingers when we study together. You see me twirl a pen in my hand and you wish I was inside you, don’t you? And when we argue? There’s always a small fragment where you lose focus and stare at my lips. Where do you want them, honey?”

Your brows furrow but your entire body reacts differently, a small shake, while wetness pools down your panties, soaking them even more, and your eyes close because you can’t bear his smug glare.

“I said,” he urges, giving a quick squeeze to your chin, “where do you want my lips?”

“On — on me,” you breathe out, voice muffled by the firm hold on your face.

His lips twitch as he leans closer and kisses your cheek. “Here,” he says, holding back a laugh when your eyes widen. “That was where you wanted them, right?”

“Oh, fuck off, you know what I meant,” you huff.

“No, I’m the dumb one, remember? You are smarter than me, you know everything. I’m always a step behind, I need you to guide me step by step,” he mocks in a condescending tone, pouting.

You take a deep breath. “I hate you.”

“Oh, I know,” he laughs. “But if you use just three magic words I’m sure you’re going to love me for a while.”

You don’t want to give up but you’re on fire, and you fear that the more time passes by the more someone could find you out.

“I’ll ask nicely one last time,” he whispers against your lips. “Then I’ll ask you to do something for me and you’ll lose my lips for the second time. Where do you want them?”

“On my pussy,” you whisper, not meeting his eyes.

“Fucking finally,” he laughs. “Was it so hard Miss big brain?”

“Stop mocking me!”

“Mocking you?” He asks, getting on his knees again before grabbing your panties to pull them down. “I might hate you but it would be dumb to not recognize your qualities, right?”

You don’t reply, you have other things to worry about. For example, your mortal enemies kneeled between your legs in an empty class of your Academy, staring into your soul, ready to eat you out.

“So, since you’re so good with words, here we go again. Beg.” Haechan craves putting his lips on you just as you do, but this is the only moment he can have some power over you. And after the humiliation of today’s class, he has to make you pay for it a bit. Or maybe he just wants to hear that even if you’d choke him and slap him, you still want him.

“Please, Donghyuck, please,” you plead, looking into his eyes.

He’d love to hear you beg for him more, but the way your cunt is dripping on the desk is already enough to tell him how much you want him, and for now, it’s enough.

When his lips come in contact with your skin your legs immediately hook around his shoulders and you can feel the chuckle on your wet folds.

“Eager, honey?”

“Just, please, eat me out already,” you barely have time to finish that he stops playing around and starts moving his mouth on you. Your head falls behind while your thighs squeeze tighter around his face. Your hands clench on the edge of the desk as you try to keep your balance, but it gets harder with every lick of his tongue.

“Keep quiet, the door is closed not locked,” he reminds you, pulling away from you just to pick up again.

You try to don’t be too loud, but he’s better than you expected and maybe this was the wrong time to try this out. You should’ve simply begged him to fuck you, but now that you’re in the middle of this, the last thing you want is to stop him.

One of your hands is brave enough to let go of the hold on the desk and reach his hair to push him closer to your body, surprising him.

Haechan always thought you were much more shy than this, honestly, he didn’t even hope much for this to happen. But you surprise him, not only you let him have you in a random class at your university but you are also pushing him closer.

“You are eager,” he muffles against you, he can’t pull away when you’re pressing him down with so much force, but the way you’re acting is setting him on fire. He loves hearing you moan and whimper, not a word coming out of your pretty lips to confront him, just bliss on your face and voice. And that pushes him to give you even more, putting his entire self into eating you out until he almost drags screams out of you, making both of you forget where you are.

You’re not sure how many minutes pass by but when the orgasm rushes in your body you feel it’s too close. You’d probably force him down for another round if you were in any other place but you don’t feel brave enough.

“So? Disappointed?” He asks, cleaning his chin as he stands up, reaching you again. “Don’t lie, you’re still dripping down the desk, you’re even more turned on than last time.”

“I’m not,” you lie. You know you are, and Haechan knows it too.

“What is it? The thrill of being caught? My skills? Just me, or something else?”

You don’t know why you reply with what you reply, but you do. “Maybe someone else,” you tease, not even sure he’ll take the bait, but he’s too caught up in you to see the games you’re playing.

“Yeah? And who’s that?”

“See, I always believed you were perspicacious and could catch details, I can’t believe you didn’t get it. You’re so sure Professor Kim wants to fuck me, ever thought I want him too?” You bat your lashes and Haechan tries to silence a groan, but you feel his fists clench at your sides.

“Don’t play with me, I’m not falling for this.”

You shrug. “Fine, I’ll still think about him while you fuck m—” he shuts you up with a rough kiss, pushing you down the desk with a quick movement that makes your heart jump to your throat.

“He’s not even that hot,” he groans, turning you around before bending you on the desk, and pulling your skirt up around your waist. “And he’s not even that old, there’s not even the charm of the dilf.”

“He’s smart,” you talk back, not sure how much you can pull your luck.

Haechan scoffs, slapping your ass. “Not smarter than me.”

“You’re not the professor so…”

“A degree means nothing,” he says, his chest pressing against your back. “What’s that you like so much about him?”

You chuckle. You’re not sure if he’s playing into your game or is just so easy to fool, but either way, you decide to keep going. “Everything. Don’t you see him?”

Haechan groans. Out of all the people, out of all the professors, he has a very personal beef with him that started at the start of the year and the way you just praise him so much —even outside of this specific situation where he got you’re messing up with him— drives him insane.

“Because he’s the best at everything? Isn’t he?”

You nod, expecting him to talk back but the only answer you get is the sharp sound of his belt being pulled away from his pants and smacked against your ass. “Fuck,” you curse, hating the way your body buzzes with pleasure at the impact.

Haechan chuckles. “I wonder what he would think of you if he saw you like this.”

“He wouldn’t think,” you say. “He’d act, fucking me like I deserve instead of wasting time like you.”

When his cock fills you up with no warning you almost scream but his hand is quicker at reaching your mouth.

“Yeah, would he fuck you better?”

You groan in his hand, but your brain goes blank with each thrust into you, pulling his hips back before he snaps them forward, so forcefully that you slide upward on the desk and he has to pull you down so that your hips don’t hit the wood.

“Answer me,” he urges, making a makeshift ponytail with your hair to force you up. “Would he?”

“I… I don’t know,” you cry out, feeling him deep inside of you, filling you perfectly.  

“You just have to test me until I snap, don’t you?”

“He seems —fuck— fitter than you.”

Haechan snickers mockingly. “Yes? You want to be thrown around? Like you’re worth nothing? Do I have to do that to make you feel good?”

You shake your head, ass perking up, your feet on their tips as you try to keep balance.

“No? Is being fucked in a class enough for you? Does it satisfy your needs?” He hisses, eyes rolling back when he focuses them where your bodies meet, your cum dripping down his length and balls. He can’t believe how turned on you are. “Thought you were innocent but look at you.”

“Not my fault you don’t catch details,” you retort with a small bit of sanity —not really— you have in you.

“Details? Or maybe you’re just an actress. Making everyone believe you only think about grades and studies and here you are, drooling while I fuck you over a desk. Begging for my dick.”

You don’t even realize you are drooling down the desk and when you’re about to clean your chin, Haechan grabs your hands and pins them in place behind your back.

“No,” you whimper, falling flat with your chest pressing down the wooden table.  

“Yes, honey,” he mocks. “I want to see you become a mess for me. Should I take a snap of you like this? Send it to Professor Kim so he can see he will never have you like this?” He whispers against your ear. “Think I don’t know it was all a play? Not only you don’t like him, but you wouldn’t risk your reputation for a terrible fuck when you have a brain like yours.”

Your pussy clenches. It’s the way his voice sounds like velvet, it’s how deep it’s hitting you, it’s in his words, and the way it turns you on that your number one rival, the one that despises you, still knows your value.

“Still, I’m pretty sure he wishes he could see you like this,” he adds, biting your earlobe. “A shame he can’t, right?”

“Y-yes,” you mumble in a pathetic wail.   

“But maybe I could still keep it to myself,” his hips start moving with more force and you can’t hold back your moans as you clench around him. “Yeah? Want me to take a photo of you like this?”

You wish you could reply but words just don’t come out of your lips, brain emptying and eyes rolled back in your skull.

“Maybe another time,” he says, breath getting ragged as he keeps fucking into you with determination. “Don’t really want to pull away to take a pic of us.”

“There — there won’t be —fuck— another time,” you reply, forcing yourself to speak.   

Haechan snickers. “The mess between your legs tells me otherwise,” he mocks, reaching in front of you to play with your clit, making you shake. “Don’t be so hard on yourself, you deserve good things, even a good fuck from me.”

“Too much,” you cry out, feeling your eyes getting wetter as the orgasm starts choking you.

“No, you just haven’t had a decent orgasm in ages,” he retorts.

“Shut up! You know —shit— you know nothing.”

“Honey, I can only imagine you playing with yourself, but your hands or toys don’t come close to me,” he says, so smugly you can feel the smirk on his face.  And you can’t even retort because —as much as you hate it— he’s right.

“Come here,” he says, putting a hand over your shoulders to pull you closer to him. “Are you close?”

You nod, biting your lower lip until it bleeds because you’re sure the sound of your ass slamming against his hips is already a giveaway of what’s going on inside this room. You clench around him when he bites down your shoulder to muffle a louder groan as his hips start moving faster as he chases his climax.

You feel your legs give up as the second orgasm hits you and you hold against the desk again because you don’t know where else to hold on to. Haechan tries to keep his curses low, sticking his face in the crook of your neck and you feel you could come again just by his voice alone; his moans the pretties sounds you’ve ever heard.

“Oh god,” you breathe out when he gently lets go of your body and you can relax on the hard surface again, squirming in discomfort when he pulls out of you.

“I hope you didn’t tear my panties apart, too,” you say, rolling on your back, making him laugh.

“Don’t move, you’ll stain the skirt, it’s the only clean thing on the table,” he says, grabbing a napkin to prevent you from making even more of a mess.

“And who’s fault is that?” You ask, glaring at him.

“You should just thank me for the orgasm, better, two orgasms, I gave you.”

You huff, rolling your eyes, but still letting him clean you up, after all, the cum was his, so it’s his place to clean it. After you’re sure you won’t ruin the last untouched piece of clothes you have, you sit up, taking your —uncomfortably— wet panties to put them on.

“So…” he whispers as he cleans up the rest of the mess on the table and shoves your broken tights in his bag, “it was just for fun, right? You have no intentions with Mr…”

You break down laughing. “You’re so easy to fool. You seriously think I’ll ever let him see me like this?”

Haechan scoffs, finishing fixing his clothes before walking to the door. “It’s not about what you would do, is if you think of him.”

“I don’t,” you reply, following him even if you feel like your legs could give up any second. “I wonder if your jealousy was also a play,” you tease, nudging him as you two walk down the corridor to leave.

“It wasn’t jealousy, you would just have terrible taste if you truly liked him, and I have beef with him.”

You chuckle, deciding to believe him.

“Wait,” he says, stopping to search for something in his bag.

“I’ll go for the door, reach me,” you say, starting to head on, you’re not even sure you two could be there at that time. “Lee Donghyuck,” you curse when you try to push open the front door. “What did I say?”

He walks toward you nonchalantly and shrugs. “Yeah?”

“They locked us in!”

He smiles, shaking his head, and grabbing your hand. “Can you run?”

“What?” You blink a few times, trying to understand how his question fits the situation.

“After I fucked you like that, can you run?”

“Shush,” you scold, fearful someone might hear, you’re not sure who since you seem to be completely alone, but better safe than sorry. “And no, I don’t know, I… why would we run?”

“Do you trust me?” He asks, reaching out his hand for you to take.

“No,” you say resolutely.  

“Good,” he smirks before he starts running into the corridors, giving you no chance but to follow him, cursing and damming every life decision that led you here, with cum threatening to leak out of you after you finished having sex in the class of your Academy and are now running to go God knows where, locked inside the institute.

“Hyuck!” You scream when he runs up the stairs and you swear you never felt so much adrenaline rush in your blood but when he looks back for a second and shows you his big bright smile with his hair falling in his face perfectly, you swear the world stops and all your worries are lifted from your shoulders. Maybe you trust him. Maybe you need to be this carefree sometimes.

Your heart jumps in your throat when he pushes open an emergency door and the mild breeze of March runs over you. You breathe in deeply, pushing into your lungs the air and the first early spring scent, letting the wind play with your hair and your clothes while your hand never lets go of his.

And then you both start laughing. Never looking back, and terribly looking forward, watching your steps as you run down the emergency stairs. You laugh, and you’re happy and you can’t believe your fingers are still intertwined with the ones of your mortal enemy.

When you reach the ground floor, hidden in the back of the palace where the sun doesn’t shine, there are still some tears spilling out of your eyes. You two pant, trying to catch your breath, and look at each other before you have to look away or else you will start laughing again.

You can’t believe you followed him blindly.

Your hands are still intertwined.

With each passing day, Haechan is convinced he has a perfect plan. It’s all part of the original plan, but if he gets you to try out romantic things, not only will he distract you from your perfect grades but he will also make you come up with a song that will give him a perfect score.

There are some small details that Haechan didn’t even consider. Detail number 1: where this could lead you two and your relationship. Detail number 2: that while distracting you, he will inevitably distract himself. But he doesn’t get it until it’s too late.

Haechan can’t remember when you started to dress up so much every time you hang out. You always dress well, or maybe he is biased for thinking that even the most basic white turtleneck shirt and cargo pants when you are too done with life to put up your skirts, dresses, or cutely styled other types of outfits, look amazing on you. Yet, during these last few dates, you started doing more, playing more with your hairstyles, trying different make-up, and always looking perfect in whatever clothes you put on your body.

Haechan hates you. Now more than ever because this was supposed to be your silly little race to the top of your second academic year and yet here he is, feeling his heart pound in his throat as you walk toward him. With your hair in a slicked-back ponytail, a freaking heart-shaped side part, your short red dress, while the white cardigan covers your arms and shields you from the light breeze, and your red short heels tap on the asphalt and bring his attention to the white socks that reach you right below your knees, while your hand clench around a heart-shaped bag.

He hates you because he wants you too badly and he’s terrified this is crossing the lines of bland and stupid physical attraction.

You smile, calling him Hyuck and he’d love to scream because he can’t be so smart and yet so dumb at the same time. But he tries to ignore it, and smiles back at you, addressing you with your surname so he can put some distance between you. You don’t even get mad anymore, it makes you smile tenderly as you lower your face to the ground and tangle your arm with his to walk to the car. Now he hopes that the old sardine can will make you two blow up, not to kill you, but to don’t make you accept a date from him anymore.

But that old car struggles but doesn’t crash, and drives you to the restaurant safely.

“This place is so pretty,” your voice rings in his ears, bringing him out of the thought he’s struggling with since you walked out of your apartment.

“Yeah, it’s musically themed, thought it was a good idea.”

“And the dishes also have song names? That’s the best thing I’ve ever seen,” your face lightens up when you scan the menu and in reflection, he does too.

What the fuck are you doing? He curses when he catches himself lost on you, too focused giggling like a child as you catch the references between the songs and the plates. You look like a cliché embodiment of love, and he thinks you’ve done it on purpose. It’s way past Valentine’s Day, but he feels that Cupid is flying right above you, ready to play him a dirty trick.

“So? You picked?” You ask, bringing him out of his thoughts, and he shakes his head, coughing while glueing his eyes on the menu.

“Nope, I’m a bit uncertain,” he says, pretending he wasn’t just too busy staring at you a few moments ago.

You laugh, humming. “Oh, I know.”

“What did you get?” He asks, meeting your eyes above the paper in his hand.

“I wanted to get the Summer 69’ appetizer first,” you reply and he smirks.

“Are you hinting at something?”

“Oh, shut up, you perv! It just looks tasty, there are different appetizers from different parts of the world and it’s a cold start.”

“Then we can take the big one so we can share?”

“Sure,” you reply, smiling at him. “Oh, and then ‘I wanna dance with somebody’ as the main dish.”

“Do you?” He winks.

“I’m not sending you signals, I’m just starving,” you reply, rolling your eyes, but he hears the low giggle that you try to hold back.

“Fine,” he smiles. “I’ll take ‘Maneater’ in your honour.”

“I’m a maneater? Oh, thanks, the best compliment ever actually,” you say playfully.

He smiles, stopping for a second after he hands you his menu. “You look beautiful tonight, by the way.” And when your mouth parts and no sound come out of it, he thinks he screwed it up. It’s not the first time he compliments you but well, the other times didn’t sound so serious.

But then your face breaks in a smile, and your eyes light up, shily diverting the gaze as you thank him before the waitress saves you both from the embarrassment that’s tangible in the air.

“Karaoke? Are you being extremely nice, borderline perfect, tonight so you can show me the biggest twist ever?” You gasp when the karaoke downtown enters your line of view. You’ve been walking for a while now since he couldn’t find a spot nearby, but he never mentioned where your next stop would be.

“I’m always nice to you when we go out on da— like this,” Haechan replies, opening the door of the place for you to get in first. “Also, since we’ll have to record the song soon, I think it’s time to test our vocal abilities.”

You giggle, waiting for him before you start walking to the desk to book a room.

“Karaoke is for fun, never to show off you’re like Celine Dion.”

Haechan chuckles, nodding in agreement while you reach the booth that the lady at the counter assigned you.

“Right, I’m more like Ailee, actually,” he jokes, closing the door behind you.

“Prove it to me, I always hear your mouth run to talk shit but never to sing melodies, so…”

“Should we go for a duet?” He asks, starting the TV to scroll down the songs listed.

“Nope,” you say, sitting on the couch. “A solo song first.”

“Fine,” he says, humming as the titles pass in front of your vision. “Mhh, what about Dean?”

“Love him, would love him more if he came back from the death and dropped another album of the year,” you say, sitting back to fully enjoy Haechan’s performance.

He chuckles at your comment. “This one was a painful reminder,” he says before clicking on “Instagram,” making the logo of the place appear before the countdown, signalling the beat was about to start.

You never thought you would find yourself so caught up in him but when he opens his mouth, you feel like you’re being taken to another world.

His voice sounds like honey, so raw yet so lovely. And as he keeps singing, you think that he would be wasted as a producer, a voice like his deserves to be heard by everyone. But when he finishes, you don’t show any of the emotions you felt.

“Your performance was very touching,” you say while standing up to grab your mic, “but I’m a performer, so I’ll go with Queen Britney.”

“Can’t wait to see your Superbowl worth it performance,” he snickers, sitting back against the small couch in the room as he watches you getting ready.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” you start, winking at him and swinging your hips to follow the rhythm of the music.

Haechan would love to find it as funny as he does at the start, but when you start singing for real, and moving around in the small boot, he gulps, feeling the air around him starting to dim. And it only gets worse when you turn around and start to perform for him. Of course, you know the song by heart, you don’t need to read the words, and you don’t need them to change colour to know when each verse, chorus and bridge starts.

“Oops, I did it again, I played with your heart,” you wink, tilting your head to the side, still moving your body to the beat. He can’t tell, not right at the moment, but he thinks you’re replicating the choreography. That’s the last worry in his mind.

I played with your heart.

And Haechan thinks you really did that. This doesn’t feel like a game anymore, and not even like sex. He looks at you, even right now, that you’re sensually singing a Britney Spears song, and he can only fucking smile like an idiot.

“Wow,” you exhale when the song ends, fanning yourself with your hand, “it’s really hot in here.”

“It definitely is,” he whispers, drifting his gaze from you.

“So? How was I?” You ask, head tilted to the side, and a big, bright smile on your face.

“Good,” Haechan mutters, catching himself staring at you for too long again, shaking his head, the red blush on his face is humiliating. “You were good.”

“Yes,” you cheer, clapping your hands. “Should we duet, now?”

He hums, grabbing the remote again and searching ‘duets’ in the search bar. “Sad, sexy or silly?”

You roll your eyes. “Really?”

“What? I’m trying to understand the vibe we want to go with.”

“I’ll let you pick,” you say just to regret it when you see the song choice on the screen. “Seriously? Anything you can do?”

“What? It’s fitting for how relationship,” he says nonchalantly.

“That’s a crazy choice.”

“Worried you can’t actually do better than me?” He winks, passing you the mic as the song loads on the screen.

“You’ll see,” you challenge with a glare.

One minute into the song you regret having agreed to that, not remembering the last time you sang like this, but the look on his face when it’s time for you to hold a long note for 15 seconds is worth it. And it keeps going until the end, as you both surprise each other with all the skills that this song requires.  

“Wow, you’re good,” you both say when the song ends and you break down laughing, a sound that grows bigger when the screen lights up to show a perfect score.

“Maybe we make a great couple together,” you say, laying back on the couch, tired from the singing.

Haechan turns to you, smirking and nodding. “I guess we do.”

You sit up, resting your chin on his arm. “Can you take another one?”

“Oh, don’t test me, baby.”

“So, ice cream is good for vocal cords?” You giggle as you walk to the side of the Han River with the ice cream in hand. It seemed like Haechan didn’t want to end the night anytime soon, but you don’t feel like complaining.

“Yeah,” he hums with conviction, licking another stripe of chocolate.  

“On which book you’ve read this scientific fact?”

“The ice cream ghost came to me one night and whispered the secret to my ear,” he jokes, making you laugh.

“Uhm, yeah, I think that ghosts are much more reliable than old men in white coats in a lab,” you joke, but then you remember something you wanted to talk about since you’ve walked out of the karaoke. “Mhh, you know what I was thinking?”

Haechan shakes his head, waiting for you to talk.

“I think we’re going down the wrong path with our song,” you voice out. “Especially me. A warmer, darker, I dare to say more sensual vibe, fits us better.”

Haechan chuckles and you glare at him. “What?”

“Nothing,” he giggles, but he can’t lose against you so he goes on. “That’s the production, you know?”

You huff, rolling your eyes, and jumping on the handrail to sit. “I never said it wasn’t important.”

“Whatever,” he snickers. “So I have to scrap everything I’m working on?”

You shake your head, cleaning your hands after swallowing the last bite of the cone. “No, I was thinking about the second base you were working on, the one with the guitars and violins, remember?”

He hums, but he’s dangerously close to you, and you don’t understand why his hands wrap around your waist.

“I think we could use that and —” you gulp when he places his feet on the handrail under you and reaches your height, “and then I can change small things of my — my writing to fit more. What do you think?”

He smiles before it turns into his usual smirk. “I still think you’re worrying too much and you’re not letting it come to you,” he whispers, and the air of his breaths puffs on your lips before he erases the space between you and kisses you.

You feel your breath taken away as you feel like you’re falling behind in the river as the wind blows harder and your hands immediately leave the handrail to reach for him.

You’re not sure that wasn’t an attempted murder from him, but you can’t care when you feel your heart flutter and your legs give up as he deepens the kiss.

“Let it flow,” he whispers, kissing you again, whispering against your lips, “and the song will come at you.”

You know it’s not what he’s talking about, but you kiss him again, this time pushing him down so your feet are on the ground again. Your hands are holding tight on his sweatshirt as you pull him even closer and he does the same wrapping his arms around your frame tighter.

You find yourself in the same position in the living room of his apartment, struggling to make it to his bedroom without waking some of the others up. Not that you care much, it would be fair payback for all the chaos they make when you and Haechan are studying together.

The clothes fall on the floor as quickly as he’s on top of you on the bed.

“I hate that I have to ruin your pretty face,” he whispers, fingers deep inside your sopping wet cunt, pumping in and out painfully slowly as he stares at your face, a cute mix between ecstasy and annoyance because he’s giving you something but not enough. “The red eyeshadow looks really good on you, you know?”

You groan, rolling your head back. “It’s not time for compliments.”

“I’ve been complimenting you all night,” he says, teasing your clit with flicks of his thumb but without giving you much. “It is a shame you will look like a mess once I’m done with you.”

“We can’t be loud,” you say, hating that, for one reason or another, you two always have to keep quiet.

“Nah, Jeno has his headphones on playing games with Yangyang. Renjun has headphones on with music to don’t listen to Jeno. Mark’s not home and not even bombs wake Jaemin up.” The explanation is particularly non-sexy now that he has his fingers inside of you and it doesn’t make you relax much, but you hum nonetheless and beg him to keep going.

“Patience, honey. We’ve got all night,” he smirks.

“Yeah but —”

“Ah, ah,” he says, clicking his tongue and silencing you with a finger on your lips. “What did I tell you before? Let it flow.”

“It was different it was —ugh,” you mumble when he covers your mouth with his hand, eyes widening before they narrow to send him a deadly glare, but he only smirks. He has control now. He always does when he has you underneath him, he still has to fight with you a bit, but you both know this is the only time he can ever win against you. And tonight is special, he wants you to let go of the reins completely, he wants you brainless, because even if your brain is the sexiest thing of you —yeah, yeah, and the thing that is making his college years hell on earth— your brain is also the thing that makes you obsess over the smallest thing and doesn’t make you follow your heart so freely.

Yeah, tonight Donghyuck wants you free, but for the sake of the dirty talking later —and to fool himself he doesn’t care about you that much— he’s going to say he wants you dumb.

And he’s starting strong tonight, his beautiful, long fingers reaching deep inside you, hitting right against your sweet spot, causing so much cum to pool around them and drip down while your pussy clenches hard and your hips buck up to ride the pleasure with him. And you don’t have it in you to fight; it feels too good, especially when he starts rubbing your clit and whispers dirty talk about how well you’re taking him.

Your eyes flutter open, just in time to catch the proud smirk on his face as he stares at your body, you dare to say, in awe. It shouldn’t warm your heart, but it does. You don’t even care if he sees you like a prize he won, right now, because even if he does, you know he only fights hard to win the trophies he cares about. He wants you, he likes you, even. Between the hate and the tension, something about what attracts you two together makes this work. And it’s fine.

“Hyuck,” you breathe out, chest panting and toes curling as you feel the familiar knot in your stomach. But you don’t expect the next words that come out of your mouth. “Kiss me.” When you realize what you said, you anticipate him mocking you, your ears already hear the snicker you know, oh so well, but it never arrives. What arrives are his lips on yours as he leans down, pressing his chest against yours while his fingers keep working wonder inside you.

The kiss is passionate, but not rough like the ones you’re so used to sharing. There’s no anger in it, just need and greed, and chemistry. So much chemistry, your hands have to run in his hair and tug them, making him moan and his dick throb against your thigh.

“I want you so bad,” he slurs against your lips. “I will do some dumb shit one day for you.”

You don’t get what he means. You don’t even know what he could mean by that given the nature of your bond, but his words, mixed with the sultry tone of his voice, are enough to make you come. You barely register the orgasm, hitting you like a singular explosion of a firework, leaving you gasping, exploding as quickly as it came yet slowly running through your bones as the feeling tones down.

Haechan snickers softly. “You love it when I get in trouble for you, don’t you? Even when it’s just a promise.”

Your lips part to reply but he shuts you with a kiss. “No talking, not unless I tell you to. I know everything I need to know, your body tells me that,” he says, grinning like an idiot when he shows you his cum coated fingers, tapping them against your lips, silently ordering you to taste yourself. You would never do that, but tonight it’s like he’s commanding you like a puppet on a string, and you obey. Closing your lips around him and sucking hard.

He smirks, feeling his dick get even harder as he stares at your lips. “That’s what I do to you, pretty girl. And I’m not even started.”

Your pussy throbs in anticipation while he pulls his fingers out. You know he’s one to keep promise, and you can’t wait for what’s to come. But he’s taking too long, and you can feel his hard dick against your leg, so your hand creeps down to touch it.

“You’re not in command tonight, angel,” he says, grabbing your wrist to stop you from moving your hand on him.

“But I want you,” you whine, trying to win him with a pouty look on your face.

It doesn’t work as he pushes your hand over your head and leans in. “Patience, princess. Keep quiet, don’t be greedy and just trust me. Can you do that? Or is it too hard for you?” He groans against your ear, making your hips buck up.

“I — I can,” you whisper but he stops with a glare and your brain replays his words ‘quiet, no words from you tonight,’ and he means it. So you nod, breathing in deeply as you feel weak in the knees for the way he looks at you.

“Good girl,” he says, pushing up to stand between your legs, pushing them open.

When he slips inside you, you gasp, dragging your nails on his back. “Are you alright?”

You nod, forcing yourself to look into his eyes.

“Good, and now,” he whispers, kissing your lips, and dragging out of you, “I want you to give into me and completely turn your brain off. You have me, that’s all you need right now.”

When he starts moving in and out, your body succumbs to the pleasure. Your muscles relax as you let him take care of you. His lips trace over your sensitive skin, leaving kisses on your neck and chest. His hands run over your body, touching and squeezing every inch. And he reaches so deep inside of you that you feel you can barely breathe.

“Just like this,” Haechan whispers close to your ear, gently biting the skin on your jaw. “Don’t think about anything,” he groans, hitting you deep after pulling out of you completely. “Not a single worry in that pretty brain of yours.”

You rarely let him win, but you have to admit that the way he makes you feel, the way he can lift all the stress off your shoulders, is a talent. He knows what he’s doing, and the scary thing is that he knows how to get you. So easily wrapped around his fingers, crumbling into nothing at his tiniest touch.

You whimper loudly when his fingers press against your clit, seeing stars at the new stimulation.

“You can take it,” he groans. You’re about to talk but he traps your lips in a messy, wet kiss as he pulls you closer by your waist, hitting even deeper. “You’re a good girl, right? You can take it.”

You’re doubtful, but you do take it, over and over again. You lose track of time and stop counting your orgasms after the third. There’s no need for that. All you need is the pleasure Donghyuck gives you, fucking you until both of you can’t do it anymore.

There’s nothing left once it’s over, no strength to talk or clean up the mess, just the warmth of your bodies cuddled against each other.

“Good morning, I will kill Lee Je — what the hell,” Renjun exclaims, entering the kitchen, making you turn around as if you’ve been caught stealing, holding the mug full of coffee in your hands and giving him a shy smile. “What are you doing here?”

You gulp, pushing your hair out of your face before coming up with a lie. “We studied too late.”

Renjun steps further into the room, staring at you with a raised brow before he tilts his head and studies how you’re dressed. You’re wearing Donghyuck’s sweater and pants.

“Oh, now they call it studying? Last time I checked you’re not med students, didn’t know music had anatomy in the program,” he taunts, grinning at you as he comes to your side.  

You choke on your saliva and don’t have time to come up with a reply because he strikes again.

“Oh, no, maybe you were exercising vocalization, it’s better when it’s done together, right?” He winks and you glare at him.

“It’s not what you think,” you lie, but honestly you feel so embarrassed about everything. You didn’t think anybody else would be up this early on a Sunday, but it’s clear you don’t know Renjun well. You could’ve left, but you didn’t want to. It was slowly starting to sink in that you didn’t like the solitude of your life anymore.

“Don’t worry, I won’t tell anybody,” he says, sitting in front of you. “Come here, don’t stay up.”

You do as told, and smile when he offers you a pack of biscuits. “I would’ve cooked something usually, but Jeno kept me up all night.”

You chuckle. “It’s fine, normally I don’t even have breakfast.”

“You don’t?” He gasps, and you nod.

“Yeah, just coffee.”

He looks down at you, shaking his head in disappointment. “It’s not healthy.”

“I know, I know, I’ll try to eat more, okay? For you.” You reach out your hand and he takes it.

A fit of cough brings both of your gazes to the door and you see Haechan stand against the frame. “Once it’s Jeno, another time it’s Renjun. I bring you home to study and you flirt with my friends.”

“Drop the bullshit, Hyuck. He knows,” you say, rolling your eyes.

Haechan’s eyes widen, but he slowly fakes indifference. “Knows what? That you don’t have time for a relationship so you can’t date him?”

“That you two fuck,” Renjun answers instead, making him cough.

“That’s not true,” he defends. “I hate her,” he says, laughing, but when he meets your eyes and sees them sadden, he feels pain in his heart. “No, no, I don’t hate her, but we’re… you know our relationship, why would we fuck?”

“Who’s fucking?”

“Not you, Jeno. Not you for sure,” Renjun says, rolling his eyes.

“Hey! Why do you always gotta be so rude,” Jeno whines.

“I doubt he’s not getting laid,” you chuckle, and Jeno winks playfully.

“See, words of a wise woman,” he brags, walking to the fridge to grab something.

Renjun sighs loudly. “A woman that doesn’t know you.”

“Would you fuck him?” Haechan asks out of nowhere and you glare at him.

“I just said that he’s hot and smart, I don’t see how he can have a hard time finding somebody,”

“’Cause he’s annoying,” Renjun answers, but Haechan’s not listening.

“I didn’t ask that,” Donghyuck says instead, his attention is all on you as if there’s nobody else in the room.  

“I don’t answer stupid questions,” you reply before sipping from your cup and drifting your gaze away.

“Wait, why are you here?” Jeno asks, only now realizing you’re not supposed to be at their place, not in the morning at least… wait… “Wait! Are you two fuck—”

“No,” Haechan answers sternly, glaring at him. “We’re studying. And it got late, so since we were closer to my place, I let her stay the night.”

“I thought you left yesterday saying you had a date, though,” Jeno says confused.

You chuckle under your breath before you feel Haechan’s hand wrap around your writs to pull you out of the room, not even giving you time to finish your coffee. “A studying date, and now drop it.”

When you reach his room, he groans loudly, walking to the closet to pick something to wear. You watch him move for a while, but then you can’t keep your thoughts inside your head anymore.

“Are you ashamed of me?” You ask and he turns around with wide eyes.

“What?”

“Am I something to be ashamed of? Do I don’t fit in the standard of the people you would usually fuck?”

He sighs, shaking his head. “No, I don’t want them to get invasive, they don’t let me live once they know something. And with you, it’s more embarrassing because of our history…”

You giggle, trying not to show the relief you’re feeling because, for a moment, you thought he was one of those types of men.

“Why can’t you ever make things easy for me?” He asks, annoyance in his voice. You have so much power over him, more than he likes to admit, and he feels like he can’t even be too mad at you about it.

“Sorry, it’s just, it’s funny having a history with you,” you explain. “My mortal enemy, always ready to steal my number ones, and my good grades.”

“You’re so annoying, you’re never sleeping over ever again.”

“Yeah, ‘cause I won’t let you fuck me ever again.”

“Liar,” he says. “And now move, I’ll drop you home.”

you can find part two on my account on the story masterlist or haechan’s masterlist (i can’t link it because if i do the post won’t appear in the tags)

general taglist: @froggyforhyuck, @wingsss45, @tddyhyck, @technologyculturedneo

fic taglist: @hcluvie, @gusgus0517, @multifandomania, @413cl, @odgsuji,

@hey-hey-heybitch, @nctrawberries, @n0hyuck, @haechoshi,

@girlwholoveslpreppyattire, @viciousdarlings, @hyuckmoon,

@jaeymark, @hqech, @xntlax, @milkyway-vxm, @fullsunahceah,

@beomgyusonlywife, @toroufriteh, @yesohhsehun @shxnz

@haecastor, @hyucksaint, @sk8ermark, @midnightrained

@maiteeeeesstuff, @smwhrinthehaze, @yoursyuno

© neowinestaindress ; all rights reserved. do NOT repost, modify, or translate any work from this blog on any other platform and claim it as yours. 

[mcdynamite]

When everything settles down after Vecnapocalypse, Steve gets a call from the athletic director at Hawkins High School, and a day later, he accepts a part-time position as the assistant coach of the Hawkins High varsity basketball team.

Lucas is obviously stoked, and the other kids concede (after a few minutes of bemoaning Steve's return to the Dark Side) that it's a perfect job for him. Robin screeches with delight, and Nancy tells him she's proud of him, and Jonathan thumps him on the back with a quiet, "Congrats, man," and Eddie?

Well, Eddie just rolls his eyes and makes a joke about the Return of the King that goes right over Steve's head (but has the kids and, wouldn't ya know it, Nancy, grinning) and doesn't say much else.

It's probably stupid, but Eddie has actually (horrifyingly) grown to like hanging out with Steve. Sure, he knows next to nothing about D&D or Lord of the Rings or metal music, but that doesn't seem to matter all that much. He still listens to Eddie rant about all of those aforementioned interests and does his best to understand, even if he doesn't particularly care about the content of Eddie's latest campaign. He lets Eddie play Dio and Metallica and Black Sabbath for him, and even though Eddie can tell he's not really into most of their music, at the end of his "Musication" he gives Eddie a list of the songs he actually liked, so they have some stuff to listen to when they hang out that won't make one of them want to puncture their own eardrums.

He even looks genuinely apologetic (and, dare Eddie say, disappointed?) when he tells Eddie that it's not that he doesn't want to read Lord of the Rings. It's just that he can't, because reading is really fucking hard when the letters won't stop jumping all over the damn place.

The point is: Eddie likes Steve. He likes Steve's sarcastic quips and his attentiveness, and his hilarious but well-meaning and frighteningly successful mothering of the teenagers they apparently co-parent. Eddie likes Steve, and he likes being his friend, and he's afraid that this stupid Assistant Coach job will end up dragging Steve headfirst back into his King Steve days, and Steve will forget all about being friends with Eddie "The Freak" Munson.

It's so, so stupid, because while Eddie likes Steve, he also knows Steve, and he knows that Steve isn't the guy who used to hang around the Tommy Hagans of the world anymore. But the fear is there, and it's still there by the time the school year starts and Steve starts getting busy "prepping" for his new job, which... what? The basketball season doesn't start until January, so what the hell kind of prep would Steve be starting in August?

Eddie wonders, but he doesn't ask. He just anxiously waits to see if Steve will eventually decide to ditch him, and he continues to be quietly delighted when Steve always, always makes time for the two of them to hang out.

The thought of Steve going back into jock-mode still makes him kinda sick, but he'll never tell Steve that. Steve is way too excited for the start of the basketball season, and Eddie is gonna support him the same way Steve supports Eddie at his Corroded Coffin concerts: with begrudging interest and genuine pride, so help him God.

It goes on like this until one day, Eddie's begrudging interest suddenly becomes a little more genuine, when he accidentally stumbles upon what Steve meant for the last three months whenever he said he was "prepping for the season." 

He's got plans to hang out with Steve that afternoon, pulling up in his van fifteen minutes late because time management has never been one of his strong suits. Only, when he gets to Casa Harrington, he notices something strange. The garage is open.

The thing is, Steve always parks the Beemer in the driveway. He never uses the garage. Actually, Eddie didn't even realize Steve had a garage at all, until now, but he hears some clanging coming from inside and goes to investigate. He walks past the Beemer (parked in the driveway where it always is) and peers inside, expecting to maybe find Steve... repairing something? Reorganizing? Honestly, he has no clue what he thinks he'll find in there.

What he definitely doesn't expect to find is Steve Harrington in the middle of what appears to be a pretty fucking intense workout – hair and tank top damp with sweat, wearing frankly indecently short shorts, and breathing steadily as he does fucking pull-ups on the bar in his garage, which has apparently been converted into a whole goddamn home gym.

Eddie stops in his tracks and stares, affording himself a moment or two to have a teeny, tiny (enormous) crisis over it.

Steve hasn't noticed him yet, and Eddie can't tear his stupid eyes away from the way Steve's arms tremble from the exertion as he pulls himself up, face pinched into a concentrated frown. Eddie can see him gritting his teeth, can see the muscles in his arms and shoulders straining a little bit. Even worse, every time Steve lowers himself down, his stupid tank top rides up just enough to expose the (not at all soft, apparently) plains of his stomach, glistening with sweat, and God, Eddie wants to lick Steve fucking Harrington's abs like a-

Oh, no.

Oh, fuck no.

Oh, Jesus H. Christ, fucking shit, NO.

Listen... It's not like Eddie hasn't already known for years that he's gay. He's been fully aware of that since middle school. It's the reason his dad kicked him out and sent him to live with Wayne, for fuck's sake. It's just that Eddie has put a lot of effort into pretending his thoughts about Steve Harrington were totally, completely, 100% platonic up until this point, and now he can feel all of that hard work going down the metaphorical drain.

He stands there, stock still with his jaw hinged open, and stares while his brain melts out of his ears and his thoughts begin to race. God, those fucking arms. Eddie's not weak, but he's definitely weaker than Steve, which means Steve could definitely pin Eddie down if he wanted to. In a bed. Against the wall. On the hood of a car. Fuck, on the goddamn floor – Eddie's not picky! All he knows is that he wants Steve to leave the workout for later so Eddie can lick the sweat off of him, which... gross. But also hot. But also-

"Eddie?"

Oh, fuck. How does one talk to the sun?

Steve has noticed him standing there, obviously, which sort of makes Eddie wonder how long he's been staring. Time stopped in Eddie's world the moment a sweaty Steve Harrington entered his field of vision, so he truly has no idea how bad his staring got.

Christ, this is going to be so bad.

So, so bad.

"Eds?" Steve says, his face pinching into a frown. "You okay?"

Oh my god, you moron, say something! Eddie's brain screams at him.

"What?" Smooth. "Uh, yeah! Totally fine. Just, y'know, like, lost in thought, or whatever. Plotting my next demonic attempt at world domination. The usual."

Steve looks at him like he's grown a second head, which... is fair. But Eddie's fumbling attempt at speech is at least embarrassing enough to take precedence over the cacophonous sound of whatever Ode to Abs his mind was attempting to compose, and Eddie feels like he can think a little more clearly.

"Ah, fuck," Eddie mutters, pinching the bridge of his nose. He sighs and looks at Steve apologetically. "I'm sorry, dude. I swear I'm fine. It's just been a weird day."

Steve cocks his head to the side like a particularly inquisitive puppy, and oh God, it's adorable. Eddie loathes how adorable it is. "Good weird?" Steve asks. "Or bad weird?"

Eddie ponders his answer for a moment, then replies with, "Weird weird."

That's enough to startle a laugh out of Steve, who shakes his head and wraps a towel around his neck. "Fair enough, man. Sorry about all of this, by the way." He gestures vaguely towards the home gym in his garage and shrugs sheepishly. "I was gonna be done before you got here but I sorta... lost track of time, I guess." He's got an unreadable look on his stupidly beautiful face, and Eddie doesn't like that at all. He doesn't like that one bit.

But he decides not to overthink it and brushes Steve's apology off with a wave of his hand. "It's whatever, dude. Might wanna shower, though." The ‘otherwise I might take it upon my gay little self to lick you clean’ is left blessedly unsaid.

Steve laughs again, and just like that, things start to feel a bit less earth-shattering. They banter for a bit longer, then Steve really does go to take a quick shower, and they spend the rest of the night lying on the floor of Steve's living room, listening to the metal mix tape they made together and bitching about their brood of teenagers.

Weirdly, though, after that day, Steve seems to be working out a lot more frequently. As in almost every single time he and Eddie have plans. Day after day, Eddie is treated to the sight of Steve Harrington looking like a goddamn Greek god, and day after day, Steve catches his eye and smiles before abandoning his equipment and acting like Eddie's world hasn't been completely turned on its head.

It's starting to drive him kind of insane, honestly, and his pining has gotten so bad that even Gareth and Jeff know.

"He's just so pretty!" Eddie whines for what feels like the thousandth time.

His band mates simply exchange a long-suffering look and let him ramble.

It all comes to a head in November, just before Thanksgiving, when Eddie shows up and once again finds Steve finishing a workout. Just like always, Steve shoots him a good-natured grin and greets him before heading inside for a quick shower, and just like always, Eddie waits downstairs.

NOT like always, however, this time Steve comes jogging down the stairs with wet hair, wearing a pair of joggers and... absolutely nothing else.

It's been a long time since Eddie last saw Steve without a shirt on (since the day at Lover's Lake when they found watergate, to be precise), and suddenly Eddie is remembering why he'd immediately pulled out a cigarette to calm down that day. Only this time it's even worse, because Steve has really been putting effort into these workouts, and it shows.

His chest is toned and covered in coarse hair that Eddie kind of wants to tug on, just to see what sort of sounds Steve would make if he did. He's got the makings of an honest-to-God six pack just barely visible on his abdomen, partially obscured by scars Eddie recognizes from looking at his own in the mirror. Steve's are slightly smaller and not as deep, but they clearly came from the same sets of tiny jaws, and Eddie finds them weirdly comforting, these matching scars that they share. Steve's look pale in contrast against his skin, and God, Eddie just wants to kiss them. He wants to worship them and every other inch of the man who bears them.

The man who definitely just said something Eddie didn't hear because he was too busy trying not to pass out from mere proximity to something so beautiful.

"Sorry, what?" Eddie asks, shaking his head violently in an attempt to dispel his traitorous thoughts.

Steve smirks, but Eddie can see the soft fondness in his eyes when he cocks his head to the side and repeats the words Eddie missed the first time. "I asked if you see something you like, Munson," Steve teases, one hand carding wet hair out of his face, and Eddie just blinks at him.

Play it off, play it off, play it off, his brain supplies helpfully. He can totally play this off. Dudes stare at their friends’ chests all the time, right?

"What?" he practically squeaks. "I- well... no, wait, um... ah, fuck."

So much for plausible deniability.

He's just beginning to feel vaguely panicky when Steve seems to catch on, and he's right in front of Eddie in an instant, concerned, hazel eyes gazing down at Eddie's grimacing face.

"Hey," Steve says, reaching out like he wants to touch Eddie but thinks better of it. "It's okay, man. You're okay. I'm just messing with you."

The impact of his words is instant, and Eddie can feel his face heating up. Of course Steve was joking. God, Eddie is such an idiot.

"Right," Eddie says, voice strained. He rubs his face with both hands, shaking his head lightly. "Duh. Obviously you were teasing." His voice sounds strange even to his own ears, and he's got a weird feeling of anticipation in his stomach that tells him that he's already shown too many of his cards.

"I mean, yeah..." Steve says, seeming nervous for the first time since Eddie got here. His hands flit from the back of his neck to his hair to his waist, like he doesn't know what to do with them. "Teasing is, like, flirting 101, so..."

Eddie freezes.

"Oh my God, wait..." he says slowly, finally daring to meet Steve's confused eyes. "Flirting?"

Steve looks utterly perplexed now, and he does that thing where he cocks his head to the side in confusion. 

It's still adorable. Fuck, why is it so adorable? 

"Um... yes?" He studies Eddie, seems to register the shock on his face, and then matches it with shock of his own. "Wait, you didn't know? I thought you knew!"

"I most certainly did not!" Eddie counters, feeling a bit like he's having an out-of-body experience.

"Oh my God," Steve says. "Oh my God, Eddie, I've been flirting with you for, like, months!"

"Months?!" Eddie's voice has officially reached the stratosphere.

"Yes!" Steve yelps. He looks torn between laughing and crying, though Eddie thinks it'll be mildly hilarious no matter what choice he makes. "Jesus, dude, I winked at you while I was doing pull-ups last week! What did you think that was?"

"A hallucination!" Eddie says immediately. "You're straight, Harrington!"

At that, Steve snorts, then shakes his head.

Eddie's pretty sure his brain is melting by now.

"Yeah, um, no," Steve says firmly. "I'm definitely not straight."

"You... I... What? Since when?"

"Well..." Steve begins, briefly glancing away. "Since forever, technically. Probably. But officially, since that time I made out with Tommy H. after we got wasted at a party sophomore year. And if that wasn't enough proof, I think the amount of time I’ve spent staring at your ass lately definitely is."

Eddie stares at him. "Am I dead?" he asks dumbly. "Is this Heaven? Am I having a fucking stroke?"

Steve's laughter is bright when it rings through his living room, and Eddie is grateful when Steve carefully raises a hand to cup his cheek, because the soft touch is grounding in the best way. 

"Definitely not dead, Eds," Steve says. "And shit, I hope you're not having a stroke. How many fingers am I holding up?"

Eddie just blinks at him, because Steve has one hand on Eddie's cheek and the other on Eddie's arm, and he's definitely not holding up any fingers. "Zero, Harrington, what the fuck?" he says weakly.

Steve laughs – no, scratch that, he giggles. He fucking giggles. 

If Eddie isn't dead yet, he's about to be. 

"Good. See?" Steve says. "Not having a stroke."

"I don't think that's how strokes work, dude," Eddie says weakly.

"No?" Steve asks, though he's still smiling, and he looks wholly unbothered by Eddie's doubting of his medical prowess.

Eddie shakes his head, eyes wide as Steve huffs out a laugh and slips an arm around his waist to pull him closer. They're practically chest to chest now, and Eddie is suddenly reminded of how very shirtless Steve currently is. He's mildly horrified by the way his hands tremble slightly when he rests them flat against the center of Steve's chest, but it's not like anyone can blame him! He's only ever kissed a couple of people before, and now he's somehow found himself in the arms of a half naked Steve Harrington. So, yeah, he's feeling a little jittery. Sue him.

If Steve notices the jitters, though, he doesn't mention it. Instead, he gives Eddie a soft, disarming smile that makes Eddie feel pathetically weak at the knees. "So..." Steve says, cheeks turning a pretty pink color. "Hi."

A slightly manic bark of laughter bursts from Eddie's lungs, but it only seems to make Steve smile wider. "Yeah, hi, Stevie," Eddie breathes. 

And then he nearly stops breathing completely when Steve's thumb drags gently across his cheek. It's such a sweet gesture that Eddie thinks he might melt right into the floorboards.

"So..." Steve murmurs again, gaze not leaving Eddie's. "It has recently been brought to my attention that you didn't realize I was flirting with you this whole time."

Eddie doesn't need a mirror to know that his face flushes bright red at Steve's words.

"But I have been," Steve continues. He bites his lip, almost like he's nervous, which is ridiculous because what the fuck is there about Eddie that could be making Steve Harrington nervous right now? "Like, I've been doing it constantly, because you're funny, and sweet, and sort of adorable, but also kinda hot? Y'know, because you have the tattoos and stuff, and you're all dramatic all the time, and it's hot, but then sometimes you do that thing where you hide your face behind your hair, and it's so fucking cute, Eddie, I mean..."

Steve trails off, cheeks growing even pinker after seemingly realizing that he's been rambling, and Eddie feels like he's going insane.

"Anyway," Steve says, clearing his throat. "I like you, Eddie. Like, a lot. And I've sort of been dying to kiss you for, like, months, so-"

Eddie never lets Steve finish his sentence, because the moment the word kiss leaves his mouth, Eddie is leaning forward and pressing their lips together in a soft, fleeting kiss that's over far too fast.

So fast, in fact, that it takes a moment for reality to catch up to Eddie afterwards. He's already pulling away by the time it hits him: he just kissed Steve Harrington.

He, Eddie fucking Munson, just kissed Steve fucking Harrington.

"Holy shit," Eddie mutters, gaze flitting back and forth between Steve's wide eyes. "Holy shit."

There's a brief pause, and then Steve starts to laugh.

It starts as a soft chuckle and slowly transforms into bright, elated laughter that echoes off the walls and bathes the whole room in sunlight, never mind the rainy day outside. It's light and happy and beautiful, and Eddie unfreezes after a moment to add his own laughter to the mix. He drops his head onto Steve's shoulder, a shiver running down his spine when Steve's arms come around him automatically, like they were made to fit together like this.

Eddie wonders if maybe they were.

When their laughter finally dies down, Steve carefully pulls back just enough to meet Eddie's eyes again, and Eddie smiles shyly up at him.

"Sorry," Eddie says without a hint of guilt in his voice. "You said the word kiss and I panicked."

Steve just shakes his head and grins. "See? Like I said - adorable." One of his hands raises to cradle Eddie's cheek again, and Eddie doesn't hesitate before leaning into the touch. "But if it's okay with you," Steve says softly, “I'd really like to give you a proper kiss, now."

And yep, it's official. Steve Harrington is going to be the death of him.

Eddie can't fucking wait.

He nods and lets his gaze flit down to Steve's lips for a fraction of a second before Steve is closing the distance between them, and oh... this is so much better than the quick, vaguely frantic press of lips they exchanged only a few moments ago. Eddie takes back every judgemental comment he's ever made about the girls who were obsessed with Steve Harrington in high school, because he gets it now.

Oh, God, he gets it.

Because Steve kisses him, soft and sure, like Eddie is the only thing that matters in all the world. It's gentle and sweet and perfect – not an ounce of hesitation in the way Steve slots their lips together. And then Steve just... stays there, like he's giving Eddie a moment to catch up, to process what's happening.

He's so goddamn patient – so fucking kind – and Christ, Eddie adores him for it.

Steve pulls back just enough to break the kiss, and Eddie doesn't whine. He doesn't. But it's okay, because Steve doesn't leave him hanging for long, threading his fingers through Eddie's curls and using them as leverage to tug him even closer into a kiss that turns Eddie's legs to jelly. Steve's tongue slides against Eddie's so beautifully, and his hands are so strong, and he smells like lemony soap and minty toothpaste (did Steve brush his teeth after showering? God, he's ridiculous. He’s perfect.) and Eddie can feel the muscles in Steve's chest shift whenever they move, and, and, and...

And yeah, this time when Steve pulls away, breath coming quicker and eyes shining with happiness, Eddie does whine. Or maybe it's a whimper. Maybe it's both. Christ, Eddie doesn't care. He'll keep making that noise forever if Steve keeps looking at him like this.

"Fuck," Eddie breathes. He knows he probably looks embarrassingly awestruck, but he can't find it in himself to care. "How are you so fucking hot, Steve? What the fuck?" His face is on fire, but Steve just laughs – nope, there's that giggle again – and kisses Eddie's forehead.

Eddie's pretty sure he's melting, but honestly? Worth it.

"I don't know if you've noticed," Steve teases, "but I've actually been working out a lot lately..."

Not even Eddie's lovesickness could protect Steve from the playful smack he gets for that.

"Did I notice?" Eddie huffs. "You're the worst, Harrington."

Steve just smiles and kisses him again.

[jade-jini]

“My Ex’s Best Friend”

Kim Chaewon x Reader

Prompt: Your best friend NingNing is excited to introduce you to her new girlfriend (who turns out to be someone from your past) and to her best friend (who you expect to see more often in your future).

Genre: smut. Fluff. A little angst maybe?

TW: Public sex. Some dirty talking why not. Idk what else to put her I’m bad at this.

Also this has kinda a continuation (plot twist tho), go read it if you want I mean 👀👉🏼👈🏼.

You haven’t seen NingNing this excited about a girl in such a long time. It was such a change. A cute one, you thought. From not giving a fvck who she took to her bed to calling this mysterious girl “my girl” whenever she talked about her to you.

She explained to you how they met at the company she was currently training at, they became close in there but sadly the girl moved to another company. However, they kept in contact and eventually ended up becoming something more serious. She didn’t mention her before because she wanted to make sure it was actually serious before introducing her to somebody as important as you. When she said this you couldn’t help but to hit her shoulder ‘cause this girl was really turning her into a softie apparently. You were genuinely excited to meet this Yunjin girl already. The name bringing you some bittersweet memories of your own, but regardless of this, you were still so happy for your best friend.

At least until you actually met the girl. Wtf.

“Yunjin, this is Y/n, my best friend. Y/n, this is Yunjin. The girl I’ve been telling you about.” Your best friend said with an excited smile while holding your ex closer to her. Both you and the tall girl tried your best to hide the shock in your faces when you looked at each other for the first time in such a long time.

Yunjin and you have known each other for a looong time. After spending years as an exchange student in Korea, you traveled to New York during a summer. You wanted to simply relax. To let go, to not think too much about anything. It was your summer to be free. Of work. Of school. Of everything. That’s how you met Yunjin, a local girl who was born her own free spirit, and for whom you instantly fell. “New York days” you called it when you talked about it with NingNing. The thing is, you never really gave too much details about it to your friend. You played it as if it was just some adventures you’d have with some girl, nothing too important. In reality tho, it was, in the words of your heart, the best relationship you’ve ever had. A relationship that officially lasted just a summer, but the best experience both of you ever had. From random late night dates, going to the convenience store to buy snacks and eat it together in your back seat, looking at the stars and talking about everything. Going to the beach early in the morning, enjoying the cold water and the warmth of each other’s bodies. Sneaking in her room to give her the best sex she could get, and also the best cuddles. Dates to vintage music stores, listening to her sharing her dream of being a musician, and even listening to her songs as she played the guitar.

You didn’t know why you never really told NingNing the truth. Maybe you just didn’t wanna look too emotional when you first mentioned the girl. You and NingNing weren’t that close back then. And eventually, you just didn’t think it would make any difference since you weren’t expecting to see Yunjin ever again. But Yeah. She was important. And more than just some “girl you hooked up with from time to time in your summer in New York”. She was the first girl who made you cry when you had to of course breakup and say your goodbyes ‘cause you had to go back to Korea. ‘Cause you never thought there was a chance she’d be here too.

And she was also your best friend’s new girlfriend. Fuck.

But c’mon! You were over her! You’ve been over her for a long time already. God it was shocking to see her with NingNing, but nonetheless she was your friend’s happiness now. What could you do? Ning was happy, so you were happy. And they look nice together! You felt incredibly awkward as the third wheel, and even a little jealous. Not in a weird way tho, you just wished you too could have a pretty girl next to you at the moment, somebody who could distract your mind and heart from whatever that was starting to form in there, somebody who-

“Oh! Chaewonie is here!” Yunjin said after checking her phone, interrupting your train of thought as she opened the door and let in some girl who-

Oh.

Oh.

Some girl.

Nah that wasn’t just some girl. That was THE girl. That was a beautiful and so Fuckin hot girl and - who was this girl?!!!

“Ok guys, let me introduce you. Unnie this is Yi Zhuo, my girlfriend. And y/n, she is... she’s her best friend..” the tall girl said and thankfully the awkwardness was overshadowed by your best friend excitedly saying hi while hugging the short- haired girl, who mirrored the excitement. They seemed really happy to meet such an important person in Yunjin’s life. But again, who was this girl? And how could you get her number in your phone right now?! “guys, this is chaewon. My bestest best friend”.

“Nice to meet you, y/n” the girl said as she gave you a sweet smile.

Best friend? Uh oh.

I mean c’mon. Was it really that bad? Yunjin moved on. And with your own best friend! Was it that bad that you were looking at her best friend and the only thing you could think about was how perfect her clothes would look on your bedroom floor…

Ok calm down, y/n. You almost sound desperate you thought. Weren’t you tho

You all were currently hanging out at night around the city, enjoying the privacy 2:00 am gives. You guys were driving around chatting, sharing drinks (you Ofc, as the designated driver, were doing your best not to drink too much) and enjoying the music. NingNing Ofc wanted to sit with her girl so Chaewon ended up being your passenger. After driving around for a little bit you guys decided to stop at an empty little playground. If anybody saw the view there they’d either laugh at 4 clearly drunk dumbasses playing like kids, or they’d call the cops. NingNing and Yunjin couldn’t be more closer and playful with each other. Playing tag you’re it and holding each other while laughing. The view was so confusing for you.

You knew you were happy that your best friend found somebody who makes her feel like this. But it was.. uneasy to see it being with your ex, with the only person that made you feel special and understood once. What were you exactly sad about? You didn’t miss Yunjin, right?

Right?

You shook your head as you sat down on a bench. Sighing, you looked at the beautiful sky, getting lost counting stars.

“Hi there.” You heard a voice you were still not used to. “What you doing?” Chaewon asked while hitting your thigh in a friendly matter and sitting next to you, imitating how you looked so focused on the sky.

“I got tired, I’m just waiting for those two little toddlers to get tired too i guess” you joked, making her laugh. The cute sound of it made you look at her, already getting your heartbeat a little accelerated.

“Right? The adoption center didn’t tell me they were gonna be so hyped” she joked along making you laugh as well. You saw her shivered a bit. “Are you cold?” You asked her, already removing your jacket.

“Ah! You don’t have to..” she said softly, but you insisted, already placing them over her shoulders and she smiled at you “thank you”. (What you didn’t know is that was her plan actually).

You always had a thing for people using your clothes. You didn’t know if it was a possessive side of you or what, but it always had an effect on you if you were attracted to that person. For some reason your clothes always looked better. Chaewon probably noticed your eyes on her, ‘cause she was smiling at her mischievously.

“I’m sorry I-“ you started but she just laughed.

“It’s ok, you’re cute” she interrupted you, now with a little more flirtatious tone. You gulped, her eyes for some reason getting a shy side of you. She seemed to enjoy the effect she had on you. Licking her lips, she sat closer to you, her eyes hypnotizing you.

Chaewon and you talked for a bit about how long you’ve known your best friends. You learned her and Yunjin were training to debut together in a new group, but they had met before at a survival show, so they go a long way back. They only got close after starting training together at their new company. Yunjin clearly never mentioned you before, and you didn’t know exactly how to feel about it. For one side, it was sad that she never mentioned you to such important people in her life, but on the other side, the less people who knew about you guys, the best, you guess.

“How long do you think it’ll take until one of them throws up?” Chaewon said, getting you out of your head.

“If they do, I ain’t cleaning shit.” You said with a worried expression and a raise eyebrow. Your face making her laugh, once again the sound of it just giving you a warm feeling in your chest.

Surprisingly sooner than you’d think tho, the couple ran out of energy, and sat next to you two as they tried to catch their breath.

You went back to NingNing’s house ‘cause the two other best friends were gonna get their bags. The plan was to do that, get them home, and then come back to spend the rest of the night at NingNing’s. But of course, her gf had something else in mind.

“Hmmm I wanna stay with you babe~” she’d say to Ning, hiding her face against her neck. She was clearly drunk, and so was your friend, who looked at you with an apologetic smile. You simply rolled your eyes and shook your head, knowing what it meant.

“Let’s go, Chaewon. I’ll take you home. I think our best friends want the night alone.” You said while opening the front door. The short-haired girl said her goodbyes to her best friend and yours and got in the car with giggles after probably teasing Yunjin about whatever was gonna happen once the couple were alone. Great.

“Here, put your address please.” You asked her and she did, although a little hesitant at first. As you started driving, she was resting her head against the seat while looking through the window quietly. You assumed the alcohol was already making her sleepy, but it was more than that. Wonie didn’t want the night to end. Not yet. She didn’t feel like going home. She didn’t feel like ending the night away from you.

“You know “ she started, catching your attention after a few seconds of comfortable silence “Sometimes I wish I could find something like that. Like what they have. Doesn’t have to be a relationship ‘cause I don’t think I want that at the moment but, I guess it would be nice to have I don’t know, a person. You know what I mean?” Chaewon explained to you, who were listening mindfully to her words. Taking advantage of a red light, you looked at her, and she was already looking at you. “I don’t really wanna go home tonight, y/n. do you?”

You gulped, and simply shook your head. She signaled with her head the empty parking lot of the park you were at earlier that night with your friends and without having to think about it twice you parked there. You looked at Chaewon again, and she was carefully analyzing your reaction to her next words, feeling brave but mostly impossibly dragged to you.

“Then what should we do now?” she whispered, her face getting closer to yours until you could almost taste her mint breath mixed with whatever sweet drink she had. Fuck. It. (As in, the expression, not her face- anywayyyy).

Chaewon in one quick movement was already straddling you, making your heart beat so fast. You felt like a teenager sneaking out. You were having a little rush of adrenaline again after so long. And you liked it. I mean, who wouldn’t die to have such a pretty girl on your lap like that. Seeing your expression, Chaewon couldn’t help but giggle a bit before taking your lips in a deep kiss. Both of you moaned on each other’s mouths, the taste of your tongue on hers driving her insane already, making her so sensitive that every subtle move you did under her was making a sweet noise escape from her lips. You grabbed her waist, keeping her as close as possible.

Once you separated a bit to catch your breath, you looked into her eyes and could see the reflection of your lust in them.

“I swear your lips were made to kiss mine” she said in between a little giggle, leaving more kisses on your lips. You smiled at her, wondering how could someone be so cute in this situation, and making the mistake of remembering there was a person who once made you wonder the same thing.

You shook your head a little bit in order to get that thought out of your head, and went back to focusing on the girl in your arms at the moment. As Chaewon starting eagerly kissing your neck while undoing your shirt, your hands went under her skirt to her ass, grabbing it and leaving some spanks from time to time, making the girl whimper against your skin.

“Harder, please…” she begged, and that turned you on so much that you couldn’t help but to make her get on all fours. The sudden change of position and how easy it was for you to handle her like that made her squeal in excitement, knowing she was gonna have a lot of fun with you. Your hand once again impacted against the pale skin, harder than before this time. Chaewon cried, but you saw her pushing her ass closer to you, in a way of asking for more you assumed.

“You like it rough, princess?” You asked teasingly, your hips against her ass as your hands felt it and went up and down her back. She didn’t answer, instead just left out a little whimper as you saw her head softly nod. You just clicked your tongue at that “Use your words, I don’t read minds” you told her, your tone still the same. She whimpered again before murmuring something “what was that?”

“I said yes.. i like it rough, ma’am.”

“That’s a good girl.” You said as you pulled her hair to make her look at you and steal another deep kiss from her. Your hands traveled to her panties, removing them quickly and throwing them somewhere in your car. Fixing her position, putting her ass up a bit, you saw her glistening pussy and you could feel your mouth drool. Suddenly you felt like you haven’t had a single drop of water in your whole life. Not losing any time, you started eating her out, moaning at the perfect taste the girl had. “God that’s such a good pussy” you groaned while spanking her once again. “Come here, open your mouth.” You told her, pulling her hair to get her up, and making her suck on two of your fingers. Chaewon made sure to give a show for you, sucking and licking on them like she was giving you a blowjob. So sensual as she looked into your eyes with a look that was begging for something, and both of you knew you’d give her that and more.

You were biting your lip as you looked at her, the feeling of her tongue around your fingers was turning you on so much that you almost couldn’t wait to feel it on the rest of your body. “That’s.. that’s good, turn around for me” you asked her, and you saw her smile mischievously as she obeyed, returning to her previous position. You sighed at the view of her bare ass up like that for you. Slowly putting your fingers inside and hearing her long soft cry, you decided to tease her other hole with your other hand, slightly brushing with your thumb to see if she was ok with it.

Chaewon was a little surprised at the feeling but didn’t reject it as she pushed closer to your hands, enjoying the stimulations. Therefore, you decided to add your mouth to the game, teasing her asshole with the tip of your tongue.

“A-Ahh, y/n…” you heard her moan. You looked up, to make sure she was ok “more, please…”

Oh. Oh.

“Whatever you say, princess” you answered with a soft giggle before going back to your job. Your fingers moved at a decent pace, following your tongue as you ate the girl out. The sweet sounds coming out of her, slowly become more desperate, multiple “more”, “faster, please” only motivated you to keep going until your roughness had her grabbing the seat hard to steady herself.

“Fuck, y/n, so good, please…” she said in between loud whimpers. “Close..” you heard her say.

“Close? You wanna cum already, pretty girl?” You asked her, looking at her as she looked back, and receiving eager nods and soft pleads while she pouted “Aww you’re so cute, how to say no to you?” You cooed, her pretty eyes melting your heart. Picking up your pace, you fingered her fast and deep, your other hand now back to spanking her ass to then softly caress the zone, and your mouth now attached to her clit for more stimulation.

It didn’t take long for Chaewon to finish hard with a long loud moan, leaving her breathless. The sensation of her pussy tightening around your fingers and the taste of her orgasm leaving you addicted. After cleaning her up with your mouth (more for you than for her), you cleaned your own fingers. As the girl lied there for a bit, you were ready to just take care of her and take her home so she could rest if that’s what she needed.

But surprisingly, Chaewon had other plans.

“You’re so fucking good, you know?” She cutely giggled while slowly going back to your lap, hugging you by your shoulders. You smiled at her, your eyes almost looking like little crescents. “Ready to go home?” You asked her while passing your hands across her back. The girl looked confused “home? But, we’re not done yet though, are we?” She said while kissing your neck, her hands going to your zipper.

“I-I mean, I thought maybe you were tired already and just wanted me to take you home you know” you tried talking, but the way she moved on top of you and the little bites she was leaving on your skin were taking your breath away.

“What, you think I’m just a pillow princess?” She whispered in your ear, making you gulped. “Lay down for me baby, let me make you feel good too.” She said and didn’t have to repeat herself.

“Yes ma’am” you told her as you rested on the seat, your arms under your head. Chaewon quickly removed your pants and underwear, and put your shirt up so she could play with your chest.

“Hmm this is bothering me.” She said while taking your bra off without taking your shirt off too, just ‘cause she thought the view of you with your shirt up was hot. You were impressed at how fast she did that, but couldn’t process anything as her mouth went directly to play with your nipple.

“Holy fuck..” you sighed while receiving stimulation in such a sensitive zone for you. Chaewon switched from one nipple to the other, taking her sweet taking enjoying the feeling and taste of your tits in her mouth and hands. “They’re so fucking pretty” she whispered against your skin, leaving a soft bite in one of them that made you jump. Chaewon giggled at your reaction, and brought a finger to your mouth so you could do what she did earlier and make it wet. Her mouth continued her job while she looked up at you. After you made sure to lick it nice and wet, her hand traveled down your body, playing with your clit.

Soft groans and moans escaped your mouth as you fought to keep your eyes open, the sensation being too good, but so was the view of her sucking on your tits. You stroked her hair softly while she was there, but felt her go down your body too, leaving a trail of kisses everywhere. The anticipation turning you on more and more (if that was even possible).

Once the girl was between your legs, she left a slowly and long lick all over your pussy. “Fuuuck… Wonie..” you moaned at the contact. She did this a few more times, each time loving the reaction you had. “Please stop playing with me, please” you begged her and her smirk made you scared for a moment, thinking that maybe she was into torturing you like this.

“Aww but you have such cute reactions, baby” she cooed, and you decided you could play the same game as her. If she wanted cute.

“Please Wonie, please…” you asked her with the cutest pout you could do, almost looking like you were gonna cry. You saw her as she whispered a little “fuck..” and rolled her eyes, giving up.

“Fine, fine! Such an impatient one, aren’t we” she teased before finally giving you what you wanted, messily eating your pussy out. You squealed, while grabbing her hair to make sure she stayed right there. The way she looked up to you, pure lust in her eyes, was just extra stimulation for you. The feeling of her lips and tongue traveling all over your pussy, and the vibrations that her moans caused, they were building up your orgasm rather quick. You didn’t know if it was because of the alcohol you had earlier (even though you barely had any) or just how amazing chaewon was with her tongue, not slowing down even for a second to let you catch your breath.

“Your pussy tastes so good, y/n” she said while replacing her mouth with her finger on your clit for just a second.

“Oh my god, Wonie…” you moaned loudly.

“Mhm that’s it, keep saying my name baby” the girl said and you obeyed.

Her mouth attached to your cunt, reaching every sensitive spot making it hard to stay still. Your hands kept moving, from her hair, to your nails on her back, to even scratching your own chest because of how insanely good she was making you feel. The view she was getting only pushing her to eat you out more eagerly, moaning against your pussy and that just made everything feel even better if that was possible.

Coming in her mouth and she took it all so well her eyes were rolling ‘cause god didn’t you taste amazing. Seeing you lying down on that backseat, trying to catch your breath just made her want you more and more. She needed to have you all night and that was her plan.

“Hey, should we maybe you know, take this to my place?” She asked, looking at you with those sparkling eyes and how could you say no to chaewon? When you wanted her just as much?

Such a cold night in Seoul, but neither of you felt anything else than the warmth of each other’s bodies as you learn every centimeter of that beautiful girl. And the fact that your ex and your best friend were probably in the same situation? Didn’t cross your mind once.

[toskarin]

how did you get started making music, tools-wise?

I've talked about this a bit before and I don't necessarily recommend doing this, so skip the following two paragraphs and go right to the one under the break if you actually want the method I recommend

I lied to a girl I liked from my school and told her that, because I could play guitar I could also play piano, so I could teach her to play piano. both of these statements were lies.

I had to panic and learn both guitar and piano one week ahead of the lessons I was giving her as an excuse to hang out. so I self-taught in a haze of panic and "maybe she'll like me" (she did not) (but she kind of did) (but she was bicurious) (but she was wishy-washy on if she wanted to get together and her parents didn't like me) (and her parents were homophobic) (I think she might have texted me at one point years down the line to tell me she had a girlfriend but it was after I deleted our text history and I'm chronically unable to remember to put people's names into my contacts so who knows)

but that's all an aside. that's a bad method.

anyway if you want to start making music in earnest, doing what I did when I got serious about making songs instead of trying to impress girls whose parents wanted to destroy me with their minds here's a better answer

go acquire FL Studio. it's apparently really easy to do this because people have been acquiring it for years, or so I've heard. FL is good for learning because you've got 20 years worth of free tutorials available to you on youtube to dig through and plenty of stock vsts to play with out of the box

FL Studio is, realistically, the only tool you actually need to start making music. you could get away with less, but it's what I used, and as long as you don't pick up Specific Bad Habits, your experience with it will transfer to other DAWs if you decide to switch it later

that's all, really

if you go this route, the golden rule I'm going to impart on you right now is that you need to have a limiter on your songs. the default FL studio song templates have one, so you should keep it until you know enough to know why you might adjust something like that

it doesn't matter if it sounds fine in the editor without a limiter. everyone thinks it's not a big deal at the time, but as you get more experienced, there's literally nothing short of getting in legal trouble that you'll regret more than realising that your old work is almost entirely unsalvageable because you didn't put a limiter on it and now half of the audio is just lost data to clipping

I'm gonna put a few more recommendations for things I've used, just so you can consider them if you need something else to chew on. everything past this point is entirely optional and you'll do just fine with FL Studio alone. in fact, probably don't worry about everything below the line

-=-

items marked with [F] are free.

DIGITAL AUDIO WORKSTATIONS THAT AREN'T FL

for tracker-based editing and chiptunes, use Renoise. you'll either love or hate trackers, and while they have a steeper learning curve than piano roll DAWs, they might come more naturally to you. I personally think that Renoise is a lot of fun to use. it kinda has an "addictive" quality to it, as funny as that is to say

for quickly sketching songs, use [F]Jummbox. it's an html workstation (multiplatform!) that writes your sketches to a url, meaning it's pretty easy to collaborate on musical sketches. Jummbox is good for making chiptune style instrumentals, but what makes it especially accessible is the fact that it works on a piano roll system, which will be familiar to you if you're working in FL

for writing sheet music, I recommend starting with [F]Musescore. I'll warn you right now that there aren't really any good notation editors and you're making lesser-of-evils decisions when you pick any of them, but it's probably the best compromise out there right now. it's the one I use when I need to hand something to a physical musician. you can also export pieces as midi, although there's better ways to do that lol

-

VSTs

if you can acquire Pianoteq, do that. if you feel uncomfortable with acquiring it, [F]Keyzone Classic is free and can sound pretty nice with a bit of work, but you really have to learn to work with it

if your workstation can handle it performance-wise, go pick up [F]Vital - Spectral Warping Wavetable Synth. there's tons of free presets for this out there and it sounds good. cool synth. Serum: Advanced Wavetable Synthesizer is also good and has plenty of presets, but it's on the pricy side, so consider how comfortable you are with [finding a friend to buy it for you]

[F]Decent Sampler doesn't do much out of the box, because it's just a tool for playing sample banks, but if you go to [F]Pianobook, you can find tons of weird and fun sample packs of just about everything you can imagine. sounds derived from folk instruments, industrial equipment, lego sets, stylophones, choirs, whatever. incredibly useful.

Valhalla VintageVerb. this is the reverb plugin. you want this one. [F]Valhalla Super Massive is also good but it's more focused on alien-sounding reverb effects and enormous spaces, so it's kind of got a niche use case and you should be a little careful with it

if you've heard a lo-fi hip hop song on youtube, it probably used [F]iZotope Vinyl. this one can save you a lot of time if you're going for that sound because it comes with all the little vinyl flourishes outside of compression (like dust crackling) that you'd otherwise have to add yourself

[F]Genny VST is advertised as giving a genesis/megadrive sound, but what actually makes it shine is that it's an actual synth emulating the YM2612 and SN76489 sound chips. this means you can create your own sounds that work within those specs, which is a lot of fun! definitely beats just using samples, if you ask me

-

HARSH VSTS THAT I PERSONALLY LIKE BUT WHICH ALSO MIGHT !!HURT!! YOU. SO BE VERY CAREFUL USING THESE.

[F]Tritik Krush is a bitcrushing plugin. it does a good job of bitcrushing and downsampling. I use it a lot in my songs, but you've really gotta know how to keep this one under control, because it's fully capable of making painful sounds on accident and can completely devour your mix

[F]FSA Latcher is a gorgeous noisebox. it screams in horrible ways and makes dying machine noises in various colours. this is the musical equivalent of working with radioactive material, so be extremely careful using this in anything you don't want to hurt the listener's ears

girlfriend just told me I have to recommend [F]Noise Engineering Ruina to you if I'm making a category with this heading. I don't personally use it, but she likes it (she's better at music than I am) and it's free, so you should go pick it up. "it annihilates sounds very deliciously" (maybe I should use it)

-

hope that helps a bit!

[asherashedwings]

Hey chat, remember when I did that one charting pattern analysis on Pico and Darnell?

Well I'm doing that again. But with EVERY FNF CHARACTER.

Girlfriend

Girlfriend, shocker, doesn't really have a pattern. This is mainly due to her being featured in only one song, and it's the tutorial. If we ever get any action from her in the future, then maybe we can find something then, but for now: no pattern.

Daddy Dearest & Mommy Mearest

Okay, so they do have a pattern, and it's a shared pattern. I mean, makes sense, since they're kind of a package duo. It's kinda hard for me to explain, but they have patterns that tend to focus on the left and right notes?? If that makes sense. Good examples I can think of are Satin Panties, High, and Cocoa. Mearest more so than Dearest, but Dearest's base charts are also rather simple due to his week being so early. BUT! These patterns are apparent in his Erect songs! Namely Bopeebo. But yeah, patterns that are left and right note focused. Which -- and I don't know if this is just a coincidence or not -- seems rather fitting given the colors of those notes: red and purple.

Spooky Kids

Another set of characters that don't really have a set pattern that I can distinguish. Although, I do find that rather fitting for them. Their lack of pattern matches their rather chaotic nature that's displayed in their show. They're just silly unpredictable guys.

Monster

Okay, so Monster is just already so different from everyone else that it's just hard to hold him to the same standard. But he does have his own patterns! Namely a LOT of hold notes. Which makes sense due to the lingering nature of his songs. He's slow and eerie, so of course his charting would reflect that

Pico

Okay, so I've covered Pico before. He does a lot of back and forth patterns. .... I could turn this into a super complex character analysis that is completely just my brainrot talking but I don't know if I should go there. I'm going there. Okay, so Pico's entire character in FNF revolves around him going back on the various jobs he's been given to protect Boyfriend and Girlfriend. Week 3? Backing out of his job to rap with BF instead. Week 7? Denying his mission yet again to save BF and GF. He's constantly going back and forth between his job and his morals. And it's not always clear which is the correct option. This same logic can also be applied to Weekend 1, except it's not him choosing BF and GF over his job -- it's him choosing them over his friends: Darnell and Nene. His character is just a constant cycle of back and forths.

Senpai

Okay, so this fucker was the reason I first wanted to make a full analysis on all the characters. So, this guy I noticed, uses a lot of trail notes. And in my brain it does tie into his character and. Like. The only way that I can explain it is like. You know those videos of people arguing with misogynists, and the misogynist keeps cutting off the other person before they can make their point, and keep repeating the same thing over and over again cuz they think that's how arguments work? That's the same vibe I get from Senpai's trail notes. It feels like he's just. Repeating the same things over and over again cuz he thinks he's making a point. And just going on and on so BF can’t speak Idk. If that makes sense.

Tankman

Tankman uses a lot of stairs. I had no idea what to make an analysis out of here, so to quote the wise words of @braveboiart ; "He's a bitch and I hate stairs." ACTUALLY! That is half right. Came up with this while replaying Week 7 for this post. Tankman is explicitly shown to be able to break the fourth wall, so it is entirely possible that in Ugh and Guns, he is purposefully using an egregious amount of stairs to just. Be a pain in the ass. This would also perfectly explain his switch up in Stress. He's taking BF and the player a little bit more seriously, so he starts to be a bit more genuine. Also, I would like to point out that he also uses back and forths a ton. Tankdad canon. ALSO I WOULD LIKE TO MAKE NOTE OF A LIL DETAIL I NOTICED WHEN PLAYING PICO ERECT

Pico Erect shares charting from Stress. Realistically, this is likely just a lil reference to Stress since Pico made in appearance in that song but FUCK YOU, TANKDAD CANON.

Darnell

Okay, so I've already gone in depth on Darnell, so this is mostly gonna be me repeating myself. Good to have everything in one place, yknow? Darnell has a progression of charting throughout Weekend 1. In Darnell, he starts out almost identical to Pico's charting, before slowly transition to his trail and double heavy charting through Lit Up and 2Hot. My analysis of this was the idea that he starts out the week mocking Pico; making fun of the fact that Pico chose to rap battle BF instead of killing him. But as the week progresses, he gets more into it and starts having fun with it, slipping into his own style.

And last but not least

Boyfriend

Okay, so, surprise surprise: Boyfriend doesn't really have a pattern. But it's not cuz he just repeats everyone! There's actually a lot of moments where he freestyles, namely in the Erect tracks. But when analyzing those bits, there isn't really any set pattern. Which makes sense! BF is a go with the flow kinda guy. The charting he uses depends on what the moment calls for; what will outshine his opponent the most. I mean, his charting kinda needs to be versatile, given the variety of his challengers. So yea.

Uhhh... Hope y'all enjoyed my analyses. I'm gonna go pass out now (It is 4:36am at the time of writing this rn)

[bitchin-tubs]

did you see the dumpster fire that is the angel dust poison music video LOL

this was from a few days ago and omg already saw the 4 episodes and that last one was just something alright... I think I wouldn't be so disgusted if the abuse wasn't so graphically shown throughout the scene and simply knowing the rapeshipper storyboarded for the episode makes you wonder if it was done out of a real concern for awareness and not canon material for themselves.

I mean this got the message across pretty well.

It was gross seeing Angel being forced into the kiss and the flash at the end with Val behind him was more than enough. But then you have Angel being actually assaulted on screen and it's not only disturbing but also gave me tonal whiplash like this show really hasn't been mature enough to be handling it this way ("call me dickmaster"...), especially later with Husk who doesn't actually comfort or reassure him at all. I mean he drops the big secret and then they get to bond over a song and a fight like ?

Also something that irked me about Husk being apparently so bothered by Angel being fake which is a shame since he did have a point about Angel playing a facade but as always the pace leaves more to be desired. We never see Husk actually come to the conclusion that Angel is exaggerating his identity he just sniffed it out of the air somehow. It would've been cool to see previous scenes of Angel coming to the bar from work too exhausted to act and let Husk see him being real, even if he doesn’t remember himself from getting black out drunk but fuck building a narrative I guess

I actually liked Angel's breakdown that was an ugly and desperate side to him we hadn’t seen in a long time

But having Vaggie scold Husk into fetching him instead of him at least feeling bad he made him run off is so yuck like the ship is so stale it’s being prodded with tweezers. I PERSONALLY believe the episode could’ve been used to develop Angel and Charlie’s friendship instead of her turning into a child at the end (Charlie and her royal demon status being ignored by the plot making my teeth grind btw) but I forget Viv doesn’t like it when her characters exist without their partners

But honestly, I am kinda happy that since Hazbin is a lot more mainstream Viv is starting to receive actual criticism and unfiltered disgusted reactions from the general public instead of the usual yesman feedback

[hollowed-theory-hall]

Hi! I want to know your head canons on SLANG! What sort of things to wizards say to sound cool or evoke thoughts or feelings? What sayings might they have? Do we maybe have any in common with them?

We know that “to have a hairy heart” means to be aloof or cold. (Fm Tales of Beedle the Bard)

I once read a very compelling headcanon that Americans would never use no-maj (for non-magical) as a term cuz they like to shorten things so much, and so American wizfolk would use either ‘noma’ or ‘nomie’. As an American I agree tbh.

I hc that the Hogwarts motto “Draco dormiens nunquam titillandus” [never tickle a sleeping dragon] to be a kind of slang for “don’t do that”.

Like, your friend is getting ready to sneak out of her dorm to go see a guy even though she knows Peeves has been feisty lately. “….Draco dormiens, Molly,” you whisper as she sneaks out the door.

Yeah! Any thoughts?

I love this, and I definitely think there are wizard versions for some common phrases we have (and we actually see some in the books). In my fic I try to add magical variations of phrases to make the world feel more real.

I'd say which shortened version of no-maj would be said would depend on where in the US the wizard is from. I imagine some areas would say "noma" some would say "nomie" and I'm sure there would be other variants. I think it'll just really depend on location.

But most of the idioms and slang I have headcanons for are for the UK.

Some examples I've written into my fic:

Hit him like a bludger - would mean having a strong emotional reaction, like "hit like a ton of bricks"

You look like a dementor’s got you - generally to mean one looks upset or down.

Eating away at his brian like the Fwooper’s song - to mean something is occupying your thoughts, but like, to obsessive levels.

I also like the idea of:

"Confunded" - being used as the word "befuddled"

"Demiguise" - used to the same as calling someone a wallflower, since they become invisible.

"Keep the egg under the toad" - references the process of breeding a basilisk, which is illegal. Means to keep something quite or on the downlow.

"Are you yanking my wand?" - used like saying "are you joking me?" and is an extension of the saying "yanking your wand" that appears in Deathly Hallows.

"Polishing your wand" - is a real thing Cedric and other wizards apparently do, but I am convinced it also refers to jerking off.

"Until the Jobberknoll sings" - kinda like "it isn't over until the fat lady sings", since a Jobberknoll only sings on the moment it dies.

Similarly, saying "Joberknoll song" instead of "Swan song"

"Swearing like a Jarvey" - Like "Swearing like a sailor" since Jarveys are known for being rude and swear a lot.

I have a few more I wrote/thought of, but these are some off the top of my head.

There is also this wiki page that has a list of wizard idioms used in Harry Potter and it's extra semi-canon content (like the video games and pottermore). I don't consider all of this list canon, but there are some I like there, like:

Breed like gnomes (From DH) - meaning breed like rabbits and said by Muriel about the Weasleys

Different kettle of Grindylows (from Hogwarts Legacy) - like saying "different kettle of fish" or "another can of worms"

Dodged a bludger - like "dodged a bullet"

Don't count your owls before they are delivered (from HBP) - like "don't count your chickens before they hatch"

The fire's lit, but the cauldron's empty (from DH) - like "the lights are on, but nobody's home"

I could eat a Hippogriff (from GoF) - like "I could eat a horse"

I'll take Cadogan's pony (from pottermore) - roughly means to make the best of a bad situation

Knockturn Alley's litter epidemic (from GoF) - means something obvious/boring

Yanking your wand (from DH) - means to joke around.

Anyone who has more of these wizard common phrases headcanons, feel free to add more!

[moonpie016]

Moon goes on a whole talking session.

*Walks in and realizes that this is becoming a frequent thing to post on here. And I'm happy about that, because I get to show what I make all the time. :]*

But now onto the drawings, and will eventually make a list on things I want to do next because that'll help me stay on track.

---

Positive stuff below the drawing.

---

It's the dudes inside my head, yay. Though they're all asleep, well two of em are. I drew this for whatever purpose it would serve, that being that my insides, while still a confused state and overall over reactive response to anything that needs rephrasing. Or just anything that happens, good, bad, whatever, that it has a way of comforting itself. It tries.

It tries to do the bare minimum of existing, even if it is tricky with having to always remember and think of more to do.

How to react appropriately, how to understand things to its full capability. How to understand others and everything more.

It's difficult, not in the way that doing things is difficult, but however that goes. These conceptualized beings of emotion have existed for some time, don't remember when but they have. But they always hadn't looked like this, obviously/lh.

But they all serve the same purpose combined or separate.

---

And, to go completely off topic, to go ramble.

Songs have whatever emotional attachment they can hold, whether important or not, it's just something that sticks. Helps.

And as you can see how much art I make, how many times I've probably listened to most of all the songs on repeat by now, what random pieces of dialogue I'll spew to write.

Chonny's music is comfort. Now it isn't just his, other artists as well. But those aren't important rn. His music in general, not just CCCC. Through whatever emotional moment months ago that made me feel lost and confused on what to do, what do I do now. I needed to find something to latch onto, if not, I'd feel..off. like I wasn't doing anything, because I wasn't doing anything. I tried to get into stuff but it wasn't working, like it needed to naturally happen instead of force myself.

The music has related to my state of mind (no pun) at certain points. And I find that comforting. Concerning? Maybe, but comforting.

Like, getting into what's popular, what new game, but that didn't work. And I'm kinda happy my brain decided to be now fixated on this man's music. Sure every time I'd like to explain or show someone, I need to specify and always show specific songs. Cus. Yeah. But now, I see people's work and stuff, and it's all so cool. And though the inconsistency of this blog is very apparent. I've enjoyed my time on here, very much. Even if I don't always actually speak to someone, because I don't really know what to say or start a conversation. (Seeds/social anxiety). I'm still happy for whatever interaction I get. I'm happy to feel included in this bizarre/pos and silly household. Idk why I'm calling it a household. Just go with it.

Even if I linger around or just post a drawing, I'm enjoying it. Some artwork may be more serious than silly. But yeah.

And to also just say whatever without rethinking is great, now I'm not going to say anything out of word. But just being silly in general with my wording. Y'know? Make odd jokes or talk excessively. (Wow).

Sum it up, I appreciate you all. Though you don't know me or I know you, it means a lot. I didn't think a joke about Heart beating up Mind would be turned into anything else, or that people would actually say anything.

This is just a happy little appreciation thing. I don't know how to end it! I just felt to write this.

So, uh yeah. :3

*Runs back into the hills*

Thanks for reading my ramble/pos.

---

[americas1suiteheart]

Better Off As Lovers

Patrick Stump x Reader

This was also posted on Ao3 if you prefer that platform, this whole text is the link. :)

[

Summary; You and Patrick have been friends since middle school and have been going to tours with him and the band to watch their shows. At one of the shows, Patrick decides to play one unreleased song he just so happened to write for you to confess his feelings. (I dunno this is kinda the summary but I'm also dumb as shit and can't make a correct summary).

Notes; I felt like writing a little something for him as I've been wanting to for a while now, and here it is! And honestly, guys, if I end up wring more Patrick x Reader fics they're all most likely to be song fics or fics based off of some of the music videos, sorry but man I'm a sucker for song fics.

Warnings; Some cursing and some bickering back and forth between Pete and Y/n over stupid stuff. Really really cheesy and unrealistic ig. Also Y/n is kind of really fucking stupid as well, but for the sake of the fic.

Word Count: 4,068 (This is literally the longest fic I've ever written oh my gods.)

<Playing- Bang The Doldrums by Fall Out Boy>

1:32 ────ㅇ────── 3:31

God, why are these tour bus seats so uncomfortable? You'd figure that because they were meant for people to sleep in, they would be more comfortable.

You get up and stretch, heading to the cupboard where the band keeps all of the snacks to look for your hidden stash in the back.

"Where the hell are they?" You say, muttering to yourself.

You continue to scrounge through the cabinet to try and find your two twin packs of Twinkies, only to give up and walk to where the boys were hanging out.

"Hey, did any of you guys eat my Twinkies?" You call out as you walk to where you can hear the boys talking; a curtain was the only thing acting as a door for the area.

Just as you open the curtain to the "room" (aka the six loft beds that were separated by just a curtain), you see Pete and Joe munching on your beloved creme-filled cakes.

"Are you kidding me?" You say, your mouth agape and eyebrows raised.

"I told you guys so."

The two boys look at each other and then at you, a twinge of fear apparent on their faces, the creme filling on the corners of their mouths, and the wrappers thrown onto the floor.

"You two so totally owe me two boxes of Twinkies, I mean it! One box from each of you two! How did you find them?! I hid them!" You flail your arms about towards the boys, the guilt becoming more apparent on Joe's face.

Pete and Joe shuffle in their spots, licking their fingers and corners of their mouths to get the creme off from their messy way of eating.

"Honestly, you're kinda bad at hiding stuff; it wasn't that hard to find them," Pete says with a shrug.

Patrick kicks his shin from where he was sitting from across, earning a hiss of pain and a dirty look from Peter.

"I'm gonna eat all of your fucking Blow-Pops." You say, leaving the sleeping area and heading back to the snack cupboard. You can hear Pete's shouts, telling you not to touch them.

Opening the cupboard, you immediately spot a party-size pack of Blow-Pops with a large piece of duct tape stuck on to the bag, big bold letters drawn with a black Sharpie reading 'PETE'S LOLLIPOPS!!! DON'T TOUCH!!!'

Pete really liked those things, and he would individually count them to keep track of how many he had, so that way, if someone decided to take one or two of them, he would know. Which is kind of insane of him now that you think about it. Actually, scratch that, Pete was insane—PERIOD!

You grab the bag and grab three handfuls of lollipops, shoving them into your hoodie pockets and putting the bag back into the cupboard.

"Give them back, Y/n!" Pete says, grabbing your shoulders just enough to keep you from moving.

"Hell no! Buy me back my Twinkies and then I might just give you all of them back." You say putting one hand into your pocket to take out a Blow-Pop.

"Those Twinkies were practically begging to be eaten by someone, man; come on, those were in there for days without being touched."

You unwrap the lollipop, pulling your hand up to pop it into your mouth, Pete's mouth falling agape as you do so.

"Was that one of the apple ones..."

You nod your head, taking it out of your mouth. "And I've still got more. And as I said, I'm not giving them back until you buy me back, my Twinkies,"

"God, fine! But promise not to eat anymore until we get to a gas station! Especially not the Apple ones!"

"Will do," You pop the Blow-Pop back into your mouth as he lets go of your shoulders, looking defeated as he walks back to the room all of the others were still in.

You smile to yourself, sitting back into the seat you were originally in.

------------------------------

You and the boys get out of the bus, heading into the gas station as the drivers fuel up. You immediately head for the drink section, looking for a can of Arizona tea.

What the hell man, where are they?

You continue to look for another minute or so until you finally give up, heading to the soda section where Patrick was.

You had somewhat of a crush on Patrick. You always have to be honest.

You went to high school with Patrick, so you've known him since sophomore year. You had a lot of classes with him too and often hung out with each other both inside and outside of school, making you closer to Patrick than you were to any of the other kids and considering him your best friend.

When he first started playing with Joe and Pete and officially being in a band with them, you started going over to practices with him, getting to know the two better, and when Andy joined the band, it was the same with him.

Now that you think about it, you have no clue how liking him could have been avoided. He's sweet and smart—a little awkward at times too, but nonetheless an incredible guy.

I mean, the whole reason why you started looking into learning some music technology was so that you could be with him more often. A lot of what you started doing was to get to hang out with him more often.

"Boo!" You say, grabbing Patrick's arm gently.

"N/n, there you are," Patrick says, turning around to look at you, holding out two cans of Arizona tea to you.

"What the hell, I just spent like, two minutes looking for these; where the heck did you find them?" You chuckle, taking one of the cans.

"I'll never tell.." Patrick chuckles, a cheeky grin on his face.

"Well, thank you Patrick. I appreciate your kind gesture very much."

Andy and Joe run by you and Patrick, with Pete doing the same shortly afterwards. Some screams and laughs came with that as well. You could see the cashier trying their best to make it through all the noise, with a look on their face that could only be explained as exhaustion and frustration, clearly not wanting to be at work.

You look at Patrick and sigh, knowing that you'll have to yell at the three once again as if they were children, regardless of the fact they were all older than you and Patrick.

You walk to the snack aisle, where you can see Joe and Andy crouching down, assumingly hiding from Pete for whatever reason, and walk up behind them. Andy had a bag of skittles in his hand and a sprite in the other, while Joe carried a twin pack of Twinkies—just as you asked him for—and a bag of chips and diet coke in his arms.

"What are we hiding from?" You whisper to the two, who jump slightly and look back in response.

"Pete," Andy replies quietly.

"Well, we've gotta go; you guys will have to finish this up some other time, preferably when we aren't in a public place."

You hear footsteps from behind and stand up, turning around to see Pete walking slowly, putting a finger up to his lips as to say "don't say anything," and you shake your head and mouth, "No."

"Come on guys, go check out we need to get back on the road," you say, turning back to Andy and Joe.

Pete groans and fully stands up, Andy and Joe doing the same.

"God, you're such a grump all the time, no fun," Pete says, walking up to the cashier.

Patrick comes up from behind you, putting his hand on your back. "Is everyone ready to go?"

You blush from the contact, nodding your head in response, and walk to the register where the boys were checking out.

"No, I paid the last time. It's Andy's turn to pay now, remember?" Pete argues. The cashier looked like he was about to snap; if it was a cartoon, steam would probably be coming out of his ears right now.

"I'll pay, fine dude, just chill out," Andy says, pulling out his wallet and handing the cashier his credit card.

The cashier puts their items into a plastic bag, and Andy grabs it and leaves with the other two.

You and Patrick walk to the register, putting your items down on the counter.

"Sorry about them by the way, they get rowdy sometimes," Patrick says, attempting to break the awkwardness by making small talk, leading it to get worse.

"Your total is $9.34," the cashier says with a deadpan look on his face.

The two of you pull out your cards and look at each other. "Let me pay for it, please; you had paid the last time, and it was almost 20 dollars," Patrick says with puppy eyes.

God, this guy always knows how to get his way with that look.

"Alright then, Pat. Thank you," You thank him, putting your card away.

Patrick pays and the cashier puts our stuff into a plastic bag, handing it to him, with him thanking the guy and telling him to have a good day.

You two walk back into the bus, and Patrick places the bag on the couch in the lounge.

"Do you want both of these in the mini fridge?" Patrick asks, taking one of the tea cans out of the bag.

"I'll have one now and save the other for later, if you can put one in though, that'd be awesome."

Patrick nods and puts one can and one of his sodas in the mini fridge plugged in next to the counter where the broken toaster sat. Now that you think about it, how long has that thing been broken? Why haven't any of us bothered to replace it?

You open one of the cans, walking into the bunk area, and sit on your bunk at the top, letting your feet dangle above the middle bunk.

"Y/n, here you go," Joe says, handing me two twin packs of Twinkies.

"Thanks, Joe. Here are your Blow-Pops back dickhead," you say, taking the wrapped cakes and taking all of the blow pops out of your pocket, handing them to Pete, who was sitting next to Joe.

"Jesus, dude, how many of my fucking Blow-Pops did you take?" Pete exclaims.

"A couple handfuls, I think," you reply, taking a drink of your tea.

-----------------------------

"Alright guys, we've got a couple more songs to play; are you ready?" Pete shouts into his mic, earning cheers from throughout the crowd.

The boys continue playing a couple more songs.

The band had been playing for an hour and a half now, playing some of their newer songs from the newest album they were working on, those of which you had the pleasure of getting to listen to before they played them for others, as well as songs from Take This To Your Grave and From Under The Cork Tree. The crowd was singing the lyrics along with the band, enjoying all of it.

"This is the last song for tonight and is another one from the album that we're currently working on; this one me and Patrick worked on together is called Bang The Doldrums!" Pete says, wiping some of the sweat off of his forehead.

Patrick adjusts the strap of his guitar slightly, walking up to the mic. Him and Joe begin to play together, with the rest of the band joining in.

You listen to it for a bit, you hadn't recognised the name but you figured that they had probably changed it.

'I wrote a goodbye note in lipstick on your arm when you passed out,'

What the hell? I haven't heard this one yet.

'I couldn't bring myself to call, except to call it quits,'

This is great; why hadn't they shown me this one? They all sound amazing.

Patrick looks at me as he sings the next verse; his face tinted a slight red, maybe from how out of breath he was getting? God, he always looked so pretty like that.

'Best friends, ex-friends till the end, better off as lovers, and not the other way around,'

You listen to the lyrics; why did he look at me like that in that exact verse? Maybe I'm just going crazy.

'Racing through the city, windows down, in the back of yellow-checkered cars,'

You continued to listen, enjoying the sound of the way they were playing.

Then once again, Patrick looks at you, looking less nervous and giving a slight smile as he sings the same verse.

'Best friends, ex-friends till the end, better off as lovers, and not the other way around,'

You can feel your face rapidly becoming warm, oh?

You think for a bit, your mouth slightly agape as you stand still. You just hope what you think is happening and what he's implying is actually what it is. No, no way. You guys have just been friends since high school; there's no way.

'..in the back of yellow-checkered cars. You're wrong, are we all wrong?

'Best friends, ex-friends till the end, better off as lovers, and not the other way around, ex-friends till the end, better off as lovers!'

The song ends, and the band thanks the crowd before exiting the stage, allowing the stage technicians to begin striking and taking everything down.

You were still standing there as the crowd began to clear out. Shit, you should get to the boys. What do I do about how Patrick looked at me? What if I ask him about it and I'm totally wrong? Oh god, I'm screwed.

You begin to head to the door that lead to the backstage lounge, a security guard protecting it from letting anyone else in. The guard immediately notices you and lets you in.

You nervously walk to the same area that the boys were in, knocking on the door and hearing Joe shout, "Come in!"

You open the door and smile at the boys, who were sitting down, drinking water and using towels to dry themselves off.

Where's Pat?

"Hey guys! You sounded awesome tonight, what was with that last song though? I'd never heard it before." You greet, sitting down on one of the metal pull-out chairs across from everyone else.

"Thanks! We were going to show you Bang The Doldrums when we were first working on it, but about halfway through writing it Patrick had said something about waiting to play it at a gig instead, something about surprising you, I dunno," Pete says in response, taking a chug of his water bottle.

"Where is Patrick, by the way?" You ask, rubbing your hands on your thighs.

"I think he went to go and look for you actually; try ringing him or go and look for him; he's somewhere around here," Andy says.

"Shit really? I'll go try to find him now. Do you guys need anything that could be outside of this room?"

"Can you get us some more water? I'm still totally parched man," Pete asks, taking the towel he had on his shoulder to wipe his face off.

You nod and get up, leaving the room and closing the door to go and look for Patrick.

How on earth do you know where every place in this theater would be? This place is huge..

After searching around, you finally decide to go outside to check if he was in the tour bus by chance, only to see him sitting on a curb next to the door hidden from all of the different fans still exiting the venue.

"Pat? What're you doin' out here without a sweater on? It's freezing right now." You speak out, walking to where he was and sitting to the left of him.

"Oh, I went to look for you, and when I came out here, it was way cooler than it was in the theater, so I stayed out here to cool off a little bit," Patrick says, straightening his back and looking at you.

You nod in a way of understanding.

"How'd you like the show, though?" Patrick says, after a few seconds of silence.

"It was great! You guys never have a boring gig; everyone was loving it. What was the last song about though? I had never heard you guys play it up until just now." You say excitedly.

Patrick shifts slightly, looking away from you as his face flushes, now looking slightly embarrassed.

"I mean, it's not that it sounded bad or anything; it sounded great, but, during that chorus, you kept looking at me and, well," You say awkwardly, avoiding saying what you actually wanted to say.

It stayed silent for a couple of seconds before Patrick broke it.

"Sorry about that, I don't know if it made you weirded out or anything." Patrick says quietly.

"'Weirded out?' Pat I don't think you can really do anything to weird me out honestly. I didn't mind the contact all that much really." You lightly laugh, quietly mumbling the last part.

After saying that, you notice Patrick relax a bit, as if he were relieved and a little bit of a weight was off his shoulders.

"Y/n, can I tell you something?" Patrick says looking down at his shoes, his voice shaky.

"Yeah, of course," You reply, anxious for his words, yet somehow excited at the same time, wondering what they might be.

"This is going to sound so stupid, gosh. Um," Patrick chuckles, trying to calm his nerves as he twiddles his thumbs together, then proceeding with what he was saying. "I uh, would you hate me if I said that I really liked you, and not in a friend sort of way but um,"

You stay quiet for a few seconds, mouth slightly open and eyes wide. You're glad that it was dim in the little corner you two were sitting at so that he wouldn't see how red your face was turning.

"I'm sorry, I shouldn't have said anythi-" Patrick apologises before getting cut off by you.

"Patrick, don't be sorry," You say.

Patrick furrows his brows, creasing his forehead slightly, turning to look at you with confusion clear on his face.

"You have absolutely no idea how long I've waited for you to say something along the lines of that," You continue, grinning widely.

Patrick's face softened, a small smile appearing onto his face.

"So, does that mean that, well, you know," He says, looking at some cracks in the concrete, kicking at a pebble aside.

"Yeah, it means exactly that, Trick," You put your hand on his shoulder, trying to get his attention back.

He looks back at you, smiling, his eyes that you looked into so often seemed to shine brighter underneath the dim light that the venue had over the door in the back that barely showed any light where you two were sitting.

Patrick brings a hand to your face, caressing your cheek. You lean into his touch, doing the same as he did.

His eyes glance at your lips for a millisecond, quickly returning to your eyes.

"Can I kiss you?" Patrick asks quietly, his voice barely above a whisper.

You nod your head and lean in as he does, fluttering your eyes closed.

Patrick closes the gap between the both of you, his breath warm. The kiss is soft and sweet, not pressed too hard against each other but still with passion. Your lips seemed to fit perfectly with his, as if they were made specifically for the both of you and just the both of you alone.

You two pull away, pressing your foreheads together, panting ever so slightly from the lack of oxygen the both of you got during the kiss.

There was a peaceful silence for a few seconds, you swear that if it weren't for the muffled music and talking of the crowd outside Patrick would've been able to hear your heart beating out of your chest.

"God, if I knew this would be the outcome I would've told you years ago," Patrick chuckles lightly.

You smile, now realizing that this wasn't a dream and that your best friend since high school really confessed what you dreamed he would for years now. That you two really kissed and it wasn't some guy that you pretended to love in hopes of letting your feelings for Patrick disappear, and you were so glad that your mind and heart didn't let that happen.

"Oh my god finally, you two are idiots," Pete says, standing on the steps that lead to the door to get backstage.

You and Patrick quickly pull away from each other, your face burning up quickly.

"What the hell do you mean 'finally'?" You say, looking at Pete in confusion.

"We've been waiting for you two idiots to finally say something to each other for years now,"

You look at Pete for a few seconds, the cogs in your head turning.

"What?"

"I mean, you two were so painfully obvious, I'm honestly surprised that you two didn't figure it out way earlier man. Oh! Wait, wait, who confessed first? Was it you Y/n?"

Joe and Andy walk out and stand next to Pete.

"Did it finally happen? Who said it first, do you know?" Joe asks.

You and Patrick stare at each other, completely baffled.

"Was it Patrick?" Andy asks.

You flush even more, looking back at the three, then quickly looking away.

"It was totally Patrick, I called it! Come on pay up you two,"

Joe and Pete groan, taking out their wallets.

"Did you guys place bets on us?" Patrick asks, getting completely ignored by them.

"How much was it again, I don't remember it's been like 5 years now," Pete asks, looking at Andy.

"I think it was either ten or twenty,"

"Can we just say it was ten? I don't have a twenty or two tens on me and I don't want to go to the ATM tomorrow morning." Joe says, rummaging through his wallet.

"Sure that works," Pete and Joe both hand Andy one ten dollar bill each.

"What the hell, was Andy the only one that thought I would confess?" Patrick says. He seemed more upset at the fact that Pete and Joe put their bets on you confessing first rather than him.

"Come inside, it's freezing out here and we still haven't gotten our waters yet," Pete says, holding the door open for Andy and Joe.

You get up and gesture for Patrick to do the same, walking to the doorway.

"I fucking hate you and I hope you know that," You whisper to Pete jokingly, proceeding inside with Patrick and Pete behind you.

"Love you too N/n.." Pete says sarcastically, walking to the table where a load of plastic water bottles were, grabbing three of them.

"I hate him," You say, looking at Pete walk away and disappear into the room the three were in before.

"Me too sometimes but honestly if it weren't for him I probably would have never said anything," Patrick looks at you.

"What do you mean?"

"He's the one that organized the whole plan of playing Bang The Doldrums and not showing it to you until earlier during the show," Patrick answers, rubbing the back of his neck.

"Huh, he told me you said something about not showing me until now. You know, maybe I don't hate him as much anymore now."

Patrick laughs, grabbing your hand and pulling you along to the table, grabbing two bottles for himself and you.

You smile to yourself, looking at your entangled hands then at him as he walked you to the room the boys were in.

You couldn't have been happier in all the years of your life up until now, and you wouldn't change or trade it for anything in the world. You were happy that you finally got to be like this with Patrick, the boy that was always so nice to everyone no matter what, the boy that knew exactly what to say if anyone was ever down, the boy that never left you no matter how difficult or bad it got.

This was the boy that you fell in love with since the moment you saw him, and he loved you back.

3:13 ─────────ㅇ─ 3:31

This took me forever to finish, and thank gods that I hyper fixated on FOB again (more than many times throughout the making of this fic,) because if not it wouldn't have ever gotten finished. I think I might end up writing more fics for Patrick, let me know if you would like for that to happen, send in some requests if you would like as well! Thank you for reading this seriously, regardless if your new or if you've been a follower since I started posting my fics on here, I appreciate you all for continuing to read my stuff because it makes me truly feel like I'm getting better and that people enjoy my stuff.

[amorganva]

Just a bunch of random interesting Lies of P stuff I've seen so far because I still love this game:

So the workshop was established 1868....which means that we're in the year 1889 or around that timeframe based on the grand exhibition signs.

Apparently Sophia has a diary? and this is the only page: Master Cherry gives the Piece of wood to his friend Geppetto At that very moment a loud knock sounded on the door It was Geppetto, an old friend of Master Cherry. The boys of the neighborhood called him Polendina because of the wig he always wore, which was just the color of yellow corn. He was known to dislike children, and even more so when they called him Polendina.

on some of the plaques at the grand exhibition

The Krat k for reference and the devs having fun sneaking pics onto bottles lol

The music sheet on the piano is the sheet music for the Oblivion soundtrack of the game. I also wonder why P chooses to play that particular piece that he plays as his humanity increases, why is it stuck in your head P?....on to another Carmeo doodle! I mean seriously the first few notes of the Estella Opera theme sound like humanity level 1 P trying the piano....like there's this specific tune in his mind. Like the two used to play together or Carlo the bougie being good at playing would teach Romeo, the kid from the streets. And the whole level P would hear that tune ....operafied and extra because it's Romeo, cmon, but also as a reminder like -Hey...remember, buddy?

Just for reference purposes, when exported directly, Romeo is a giant at almost 9 ft - while P is about 6'4" when not constantly in battle stance. But Sophia and every other NPC in Krat is also about 6 feet when directly exported so the characters aren't made to scale - youngest of the BRBH is as tall as Sophia without ears. I read somewhere that Carlo is supposed to be around 5'3" on average and 5'6" at the tallest (people being shorter back then etc....our short king) so in my headcanon for my doodles reference I scaled Romeo to be about 5'10", just a bit taller than Carlo. Idk why I make him taller but there's something about his nickname Lampwick which just meant that he's skinny and polished looking in the original context but it got in my head that he's just tall and skinny and I'm rolling with it. Funny that his puppet form is so rusted and kinda clunky and raggedy looking for someone so well put together presumably before he died. The most unruly of Pinocchio's friends but also the nicest guy in this universe--- don't get me started on Romeo again gigachad of a friend///

Also something you can't really see ingame cuz resolution but irl all records are by Trilogy Records and Feel in particular is "Song of Vamp, Rosa Milan" ....no clue what it means.

the placeholder used for Romeo's play in the trailers....but also Hotel Krat before it became a Hotel in a bustling city?

Question: Blue hair Sophia or Brown hair? Short hair P or long hair P? (I like short hair because it's an iconic look and the devs clearly spent a lot of time fine tuning it when you look at the trailers lol, long hair to me just feels so....basic) Also P's hair is aktschually brown.....it just looks really dark ingame and in all the artwork they just chose to make it black-looking. So Carlo and P technically have the same hair, he just doesn't have P's freckles which....a choice was made by Geppetto and I respect it.

You can read this oddly specific daffodil newspaper texture and this letter.....like why is this so high res??

It's a shame you can't see some of this stuff unless you actually take a close look at the game files but I like to snoop. I just wanna see more of Krat...like a tour video or something or a book before it all kinda went to hell. Thanks Geppetto ....and/or Simon.

[csolarstorm]

Agatha All Along Ep. 5 First Impressions

I'm kinda disappointed.

Agatha All Along has been working really well as a solo project. The practical effects and episodic writing make it feel really different than a lot of the MCU. There are a lot of non-MCU fans watching this. So I was worried that

...Teen's identity just doesn't flow with not just the plot of this show, but its emotional core. What does "Teen is actually Wanda's kid" mean to the story of Agatha's coven and their journey down the Witch's Road?

What I was hoping was that after the Witch's Road, they'd take some time to bring Wanda's legacy back into the show organically so Teen's identity had some emotional weight to it. After all, there's a lot of potential for drama there once Agatha realized her "familiar" was the child of the woman who took her freedom for three years.

So when Wanda's crown appeared on Teen's head, I didn't have much of an emotional reaction to the reveal itself. It was certainly a cool way to do it, especially with the perfect song, but it happened too soon, too fast. I am definitely interested in how Agatha immediately turned Teen's words against him and projected Wanda's misdeeds onto him, especially since he immediately proved her right by taking control of Lilia and Jen and threw them all into the muck. I'm just a little confused as to why he would do that. Guess we have to wait and see.

The episode in general just felt...rushed, maybe? I don't know, I felt like bits of motivation or bits of reasoning were missing here and there. Everyone turned against Agatha during her trial really quickly, and they should know that past trials were supposed to be group efforts. Evanora kept repeating that Agatha was evil, she was born evil, but never offered any details about what she did. And nobody asked.

And then out of nowhere in the last minute of the "trial", Teen suddenly contacted Nicholas Scratch on the Ouija Board (didn't he say specifically it needed more than one person??) and a ghost's voice that I guess is Scratch pleads for Agatha to stop killing Alice, because he wants his mom to be a good person. Okay...? Then Nicholas Scratch was apparently a child when he either died or was sacrificed.

Why was that the way to finish the trial? What exactly was this trial? If last week's trial was anything to go by, you'd expect the coven to learn something, or find closure somehow. The fact that Teen randomly contacts a whole different ghost and apparently finishes the trial for all of them because the coven is in complete chaos and did NOT reach any understanding with Evanora - if that was the point of the trial - ? - kind of goes against the spirit of what we've seen so far. Maybe the writing was over-edited and messed up because Marvel had to oversee the Billy reveal.

This episode might still grow on me. That's why I'm calling this "first impressions". Because I literally just watched it, and I'm still digesting it. Stuff like Nicholas Scratch's appearance as a ghostly voice and Teen's reveal as Billy might make more sense with future episodes, so I'm not saying it's ruined or anything. Overall Agatha All Along is one of the best Marvel shows, exceeding it's predecessor Wandavision in emotional intelligence and drama.

Also at some point one of the witches called Billy Agatha's "familiar" and I just realized that's why she kept calling him her "pet". Though, considering she called her actual familiar "Senor Scratchy" and she thought Billy was her son for a while, that makes it a lot sadder. And I do like that Agatha only needed to know that he wasn't her son to suspect that he was Billy Kaplan. (Billy Maximoff? Billyvision? Whatever Marvel goes with.) But what really confirmed it for her was when he got righteous with her, and it reminded her of Wanda trying to excuse her actions in Westview. That was good.