#and you have the best scenes to work through

[mossterunderthebed]

oho. ohohoho. now to make it goyuu... i need a knight au

ooh what if they're from different kingdoms. and yuuji is the king's only remaining relative so he is unfortunately the Heir. and was dragged to the palace after his uncle found where his father had taken his grandson away from the palace to live out his days in ignominity because he was once a great general but his son sukuna who was greater even than him instigated a violent takeover and disposed of half the previous nobility

and hes a tyrant but a lot of the commoners love him because to be fair his actual policies arent too bad just bloody as fork and super strict and hes big into conquest which hey makes money and brings their country glory so it works.

enter gojo.

emperor of neighboring empire thats not technically much bigger in terms of land mass but has way more people (this has advantages and disadvantages). and yuuji has risen to the rank of general and is known as the tiger of the west which he thinks is embarrassing. and he hates that that's what the people know about him and what they like about him because he wants to be a good ruler. but he doesnt know how only he doesnt think it should be like sukuna rules

and then gojo who ofc would lead his own armies so he and yuuji end up clashing in an unexpected place. and gojo uses guerilla/ambush tactics they werent expecting bc they thought they had the advantage of numbers and yuuji is captured.

and he expects to be tortured and stuff but this gojo guy is actually... really nice? and insanely smart? and really funny too? and pretty handsome too wow ok. and then they kind of end up becoming friends?? and yuuji confides that he doesnt know how to rule well but he really admires gojo whos so smart and has gathered such good people to him (unlike many people who have critisised him as being honourless because of his tactics but its because he and yuuji both understand the value of a life as opposed to expectations of 'character' which is actually just a load of crap the nobles to make themselves sound/look good)

and yea i dont know things snowball and in the end they have a long-lasting long distance love affair until gojo's heir (yuuta) comes of age. bc surprise surprise gojo never wanted to rule esp not after the betrayal of his closest advisor and best friend in his youth. and finally he goes to live w yuuji who disposed of his own uncle in a very moving morally heart-clenching scene

and they live happily ever after and travel back and forth a lot and every time gojo visits his home he acts outrageously but hes still always just as intimidating as ever and even in his late forties h makes a soldier who spoke out of turn piss himself in a public spar.

and he and yuuji are insufferably chaotic and loving until they die and are buried side by side on the land yuuji rehabilitated (his childhood home w his grandfather that was wrecked by sukuna) and they plant little yellow and blue wildflowers over the graves and years in the future the two crossbreed and spawn a lovely little new breed of flower that symbolizes the powerful kind of love that would wait for years and years. a patient kind of love.

and centuries later records are found of them and the graves are unearthed and little artifacts are found and their letters and etc etc etc and their love story becomes known as one of the greatest of all time and stories and plays and poetry are written about it and their letters are translated and published and are turned into a saying 'i would write you a thousand letters' which basically means 'i would love you with dedication through great obstacles and hardship' or more simply, 'i will love you even when its hard.'

and yeap thats the that.

Bonus: at the very very very end theres a little cutscene of their reincarnations meeting for the first time after accidentally bumping into each other and gojo drops something so yuuji kneels and offers it to him and for a second they both get mad deja vu and just stop and stare at each other like they're the most beaufiful thing the other has seen and for that moment rest of the world doesnt exist

*holds back tears* and then they fall in love and get married and adopt some cats and maybe a kid and live in a cozy apartment and stay together for a whole 'nother lifetime and retire to the Sendai countryside and tend to a garden full of Their Flowers which they find out on the second date are both of their favorites for a reason neither of them can quite describe and ughhhhhhhhhhhh

sorry i got emotional. ok bye.

horniest battle moments:

- taking your ally's weapon out of their scabard to use yourself

- using someone else's shoulder as a rifle stand

- nudging someone's chin up with the tip of your weapon

- freezing with your blades against one another's throats, breathing into each other's mouths

[luvyeni]

🍡… ( drabble ) anytime anywhere ̨ ! ୨୧ 一 大崎将太郎 ՞

⸃ ⸰ ⌁  you both can’t seem to keep your hands off each other ヾ

boyfriend!shotaro・ reader ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ g ・ smut ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ cw ・ oral ( f ) ‎ multiple sex scenes. mutual masturbation. public sex. wc ・ ‎0.6k ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎| ‎ ‎click to library

request. i can just imagine both reader and shotaro constantly coming to jump eachothers bones at just random points of the day, at work? the dorms? mid convo with friends? doesn’t matter, shotaro comes up and says “hey i need you for something” and im dropping everything immedietly, and he would do the same the minute you walk up and tug on his arm like “excuse me ill be right back” so casually just to destroy you the minute you guys find somewhere mostly private.

「 ୨୧ authors note 」 enjoy it , hope you like it <3

your friends love you two they do; but they hate asking you out sometimes — because they know you two will most likely disappear for sometime and they knew exactly what you two were doing; and you two could give less of a fuck.

“sex addicts.” is what they would call you, and you couldn’t deny it either, you and shotaro were insatiable; the need to feel each other all the times. if you’re at home and in need of your man, but his work is holding him back? best believe he’s taking a five minute break, going into the bathroom and talking you through. “come on princess i don’t have much time.” he said , hand on his cock, head back groaning in your ear. “stuff those little fingers in your pretty pussy and cum for me.”

when you come over to the dorms; the boys know they have approximately 30 minutes to either; 1. get the hell out. or 2. find their headphones and head to their rooms because if they don’t then they’re at risk of hearing you and him going at it in his room. “baby why aren’t you moaning?” he was balls deep inside you, he knows your body and he knows how loud you are and how loud you could be , so this would be a surprise to him. “b-because your members are home.” you bite your lip to contain your moans; but taro? yeah he doesn’t give of a fuck. he wants to hear you — he needs to hear you.

“baby you feel so good.” he groans. “your pussy is making so much noise for me , but i want to hear you.” he fingers slotting between your bodies , toying with your clit. “yo-your memb- you shouldn’t be thinking about them while im inside you, i should be the only thing on your mind.” he said , pushing down on your stomach, fucking deeper inside you. “taro!” you shrieked making him smirk as he fucked into you with much more force. “that’s it, keep moaning for me.”

you could even be in the middle in the conversation with a friend and he’ll come up to you; he’ll even give the person a friendly smile; hold a little conversation with them, his hand on your shoulder, massaging it a little ( this is him letting you know non-verbally that he wants you right then and there). he’ll hold the conversation for a few minutes before bending down to your ear, giving you a little kiss on the cheek. to your friend it’s the cutest thing ever; but to you that’s the physical warning that he wants you then and there. “can i steal them away for a minute; baby i need your help with something.”

you don’t even need to say anything; just come up to him and tug on his arm, nuzzling your face against his shoulders and he’s turning to give you a smile; before giving his friends a quick goodbye, dragging you to the nearest private place. “fuck taro!” you moaned, legs wrapped around his waist as he fucked into you roughly, holding you up. “mhmm fuck princess you feel so fucking good.” the bathroom you found small and cramped , but you two didn’t care. “sh-shit i love this pussy so much , gonna cum so fucking much.” his head dropping to look down at your bodies. “ta-taro im gonna cum.”

holding on to the sink as he held your thigh tightly. “gonna cum -fuck- im gonna cum inside you.” he moans. “want you to keep inside until we get home and i can eat your pretty pussy.” your nails digging into his skin, legs wrapped tightly around. “t-taro im cumming!” your head thrown back as you came. “fu-fuck , cum for me baby.” he moaned, cock twitching inside of you as he shot his load inside you. “oh fuck.” his forehead resting against your , smiling while heavy breathing. “our friends hate us.” you giggled against his lips.

“sorry i just can’t get enough of your pretty pussy.”

©️

[prettygirl-gabi]

Suprise bubs

Rating: General Audiences

Warning: none

Paring: Paige Bueckers x !non-athletic fem reader

Fandom: Women's basketball

Summary: who doesn't love suprise visits on important days.

The hum of a hairdryer echoed through the suite as I stepped quietly down the hall, my heart racing in anticipation. Paige had no idea I was here. She thought I was still back home, dealing with work and classes, completely oblivious to the fact that I had coordinated this entire surprise with her best friends. Today was one of the most important days of her life—the WNBA Draft—and there was no way I’d miss it.

I tugged my dress down a little, smoothing out the fabric. It was pink, flowy, and entirely different from the oversized hoodie I’d been wearing when I left the airport hours earlier. My heels clicked softly against the tile as I stopped outside the door to her suite.

“Is she almost ready?” I whispered to Nika, who peeked out of the door.

Her eyes lit up as she nodded. “Perfect timing, ma. She’s almost done. You sure you’re ready for this?”

“Born ready,” I whispered, grinning.

Nika chuckled, letting me slip inside. The scene was chaotic but organized—Paige sat on a stool near the window, her hair being curled as Azzi and KK lounged on the couch nearby, chatting about the draft. The room smelled like strawberries and Nutella, her favorite snack, which she held in her lap, too preoccupied to notice me sneaking in.

I took a deep breath, letting my nerves settle, and leaned casually against the doorframe. “Wow, P. I didn’t know they made statues that moved.”

Paige’s head snapped up, her wide blue eyes locking on mine. The spoonful of Nutella she’d been holding froze mid-air, and her jaw dropped. “Baby?”

“Surprise,” I said, smirking as I walked toward her.

She stood up so fast she nearly knocked over the plate of strawberries. “Ma, what—how—what are you doing here?” Her voice was filled with disbelief, and she blinked rapidly as if making sure I was real.

“It’s our anniversary, isn’t it?” I said, stopping in front of her and tipping my head back to meet her gaze.

Paige wrapped her arms around me, lifting me slightly off the ground. “You’re crazy, you know that?”

“Crazy about you,” I teased, pressing a kiss to her cheek. “Happy anniversary, baby.”

She set me down gently, her hands lingering on my waist. “You didn’t have to fly out. You’ve got so much going on.”

I cupped her face, brushing my thumb along her jawline. “I’m not missing this, P. This is your dream, and I’ll always be here to support you.”

“Ugh, you two are disgusting,” Nika said, throwing a pillow at us.

“Jealous?” I shot back, laughing as Paige pulled me closer.

“Maybe,” Nika muttered, but she was grinning.

Paige tugged me toward her stool, sitting back down and keeping one hand in mine. “You really didn’t tell me?”

“I wanted it to be a surprise,” I said, leaning against the counter. “How’s the glam going? You look good, bubs.”

“Thanks, mamas,” she said, her cheeks turning pink. “They’re almost done, I think.”

I grinned. “Well, good. Gotta make sure my girl looks perfect when she goes number one.”

“Stop,” she groaned, covering her face with her free hand. “You’re gonna jinx it.”

“Never,” I teased, winking at her stylist. “But maybe add a little extra blush. She looks so cute when she’s all flushed.”

“Baby,” Paige whined, her face now fully red.

“What?” I said innocently, laughing as she shook her head.

When her glam session was done, Paige stood and turned to me, her eyes scanning me from head to toe. “You look beautiful, ma.”

“Thanks, P,” I said, doing a little spin for her. “Gotta make sure I’m worthy of being your plus-one.”

“You’re always worthy,” she said softly, pulling me in for a kiss.

The draft was a whirlwind of emotions. I held Paige’s hand tightly as her name was called first, the room erupting in cheers. She turned to me immediately, her eyes shining with unshed tears. “We did it, baby,” she whispered, squeezing my hand.

“No, you did it,” I said, kissing her quickly before she headed to the stage.

Watching her stand there, holding up her new team’s jersey with that million-watt smile, filled me with so much pride I thought my heart might burst.

After the draft, Paige had arranged for a private dinner to celebrate both her achievement and our anniversary. She led me into a quiet, candlelit restaurant, her hand never leaving mine. When we reached our table, my eyes widened. A massive bouquet of flowers sat waiting for me, a mix of roses, lilies, and peonies.

“Paige,” I breathed, looking up at her.

“Happy anniversary, ma,” she said, leaning down to kiss me. “Thank you for being my rock. I couldn’t have done any of this without you.”

I smiled, blinking back tears. “You’re gonna make me cry, P.”

“Good,” she teased, pulling out my chair for me.

Later that night, as we lay curled up on the couch back in her hotel suite, Paige pulled out her phone.

“What are you doing?” I asked, snuggling closer.

“Posting this,” she said, showing me an Instagram story. It was a picture of me from dinner, holding the bouquet of flowers. The caption read: Draft day, anniversary, all with my forever girl. 💜

“Paige,” I whispered, my heart swelling.

“It’s time, baby,” she said, pressing her forehead to mine. “The world deserves to know who I’m doing all of this for.”

I kissed her softly, letting the love I felt for her speak for itself.

That night, as her post flooded with likes and comments, I realized just how lucky I was to have her—not as a superstar, but as my P.

■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■

-Thank You For Reading!🩵🩶

-prettygirl-gabi🎀✨️

[oldguardleatherdog]

I would like to know more about pup history!

Well, hello, and thanks for asking! Sorry it took a while to respond.

Pup Play as we know it today got its start in 1986 at the International Mr. Leather gathering in Chicago when the partner of a leather artist at the Vendor Market, who showed up in a full-body leather pup suit and a mask crafted by a saddlemaker, started bouncing around the place barking and howling and humping the leather guys as they browsed the whips and chains on display-

-as a protest against the hardcore stoic impenetrable macho attitude that was prevalent among leathermen in those days - the standing joke was that "S&M" stood for "Stand & Model" - breaking through their poser facade, forcing them to interact and engage in a way that was just too cute and endearing to ignore or resist.

Pup Play began as an act of protest at the biggest leather gathering of the year against a cultural and institutional barrier to communication and connection. One guy - one dog - broke through that barrier, and nearly four decades later there are thousands of people around the world who pull on a pup hood and hit the ground or the mats or the dance floor barking up a storm, expressing ourselves in ways that are free and full, in a spirit of joy that at its best can transcend roleplay and allow us to experience, however briefly, "the time when the divorce between human and animal was not yet complete." (Mircea Eliade, Shamanism: Archaic Techniques of Ecstasy, Princeton University Press, 1972)

That guy, "Ranger", who's a good friend and a real sweetheart, is still active in the scene here in San Francisco and is our "First Pup", the original (and best!). A year later, almost to the day, I came out as a gay man - and when I came out, I came out barking. The man who put me on all fours for the first time was the man who brought me out, my first and only Leather Daddy who set me on this wild path that became a life's work.

I'm Pup Number Two, 37 years on all fours. I taught the first Pup Play workshop on record (San Francisco, August 1997), where I presented the first Trainer/Handler curriculum to a leather audience for use and adaptation, conducted numerous clinics, demos, and performances for groups and clubs across the United States, and showed hundreds of kinksters of all ages and genders how they could find, embrace, and express their "inner canine." Over the past year, I've been giving my presentation/lecture on Pup History online and IRL for pup-and-handler groups; it's been well received and is being expanded with new research from the field for 2025.

For several years Ranger and I were the only ones doing this radical fringe weird thing that was viewed as disgusting and sick and immoral by the leather and kink community, vilified so strongly that for the first decade those of us who practiced this kink did so mostly underground, communicating through word-of-mouth and personal ads in magazines, because if it got around that we liked to bark in the sack we'd have been thrown out of the community as sickos who were barely a step above actual bestialists (a slur that has never been true of our practice or those who practice it).

In the US and Canada from 1986 to 1997, there were only about a dozen known pup players - researchers including myself are actively searching for others from that long-ago time if they even existed - and we had to fight like hell for years to be open about the kink that we loved and to be able to express ourselves openly in this way. That's surprising to many given the popularity of Pup Play today, but it took a lot of hardcore commitment in the face of opposition to get us out from the shadows and into the light of day.

I hope this is a good introduction to our history and that I've expressed it well enough to satisfy your initial curiosity! There's much more, of course, so if there are any particular areas you're curious about, let me know, awoo!

Thank you for asking. "Beast wishes" to you for a happy and humpy New Year!

Woofs + wags, Alpha Pup Bruzr

[rafecameronsversion]

baby, no attachment || j.m

summary - jj tells you that you're belong right next to , but denies what you have the next day. was it all casual?

warning - f!reader, angsty, the pain that comes with casual relationships.

should i make a part 2? ☺️☺️ comment if so! y'all idk how to make my stuff longer, i hate how short my works r

the night before was beautiful, jj had seen a part of your soul. sat on the docks by kildare, with your legs hitting the water. jj was right next to you, the night unfolded with soft whispers and lingering touches.

you were talking about the suffocations of being from a kook family, the expectations, the standards, and how they control you. it got too much sometimes, and you can't help but feel like you don't belong.

jj looked at you fondly, a confused expression on his face. "i don't get it..." he started, running his hand through his hair.

"you've got it all, don't you?" he asked, eyeing you up and down. you smiled at him lightly, nudging him in the side.

"do i?" you challenged, looking into his blue eyes as you leaned forward slightly. he chuckled lightly at your jab, as you continued to speak. "because it doesn't feel like it. not when i have these expectations on who i should be, held above my head, told what to want."

jj's jaw tightened, he knew it all too well. the feeling of wanting freedom, albeit his prison was a different kind. he shook his head no, wrapping his arm over your shoulder. "then, you don't belong there."

you looked at him for a moment, a soft smile lingering on your face. "hm... and where do i belong?"

the question hung heavy in the air, an unspoken tension that lies between the two of you. he had a smile on his face, pulling you closer with his arm on your shoulder. he kissed your forehead before looking into your eyes.

"here. with me."

the night before had panned out so perfectly, so beautifully. you can't help but feel anger, anger that curled in your chest like smoke from the dying bonfire. you didn't know where you stood with him— and maybe that was the problem.

the boneyard was alive, a blur of kooks and pogues dancing and laughing like there wasn't a barrier between them. your friends surrounded you, their sharp, mocking voices cutting through the night

"loser" you're best friend called you with a laugh, as she noticed you looking around for a certain blond. "hanging around him? he's a lowlife!"

you ignored her, pretending her words didn't sting. jj made you feel real—like you weren't just another strung up kook with a curated life. what you had with him was real... or so you thought.

quickly excusing yourself to find a drink, you slipped through the bustling crowd, rubbing your hands over your arms for some comfort. you scanned around, looking for familiar faces, hoping to find his. and then you did. jj stood by the keg, his blond hair messy and his easy grin lighting up the night.

his friends, john b and pope, laughed loudly as their voices carried over the music. jj leaned casually against the keg, a beer in hand. he looked like he belonged—a slap in your face that this was his world, and you were an intruder.

"yo, what's the deal with you and that kook...y/n?" he asked, teasing. you stood there frozen, with your heart pounding.

jj didn't answer right away, taking a sip of his beer instead and looking away.

pope chimed in, agreeing. "yea, isn't she like, out of your league?"

jj rolled his eyes at that, his smirk faltering. "we're not together." he said casually, his voice cool. "jus' talk to her sometimes."

the laughter around them died slowly, his friends looked at him with disbelief in their faces.

"what?" jj groaned, shifting uncomfortably under his friends weird faces. "m'serious! there's nothing between us."

you stood there appalled, frozen as you watched the scene. you felt your heart drop, at how easy he could brush you off like everything was nothing. you turned away before you could hear anything more, before any of them could see you from afar.

the lump in your throat grew as you walked away, you could hear them talking behind you but you didn't look back.

what you didn't know was john b slapping jj on the head, because he spotted you right as you walked away. "shit, man! she heard everything!"

[sporkarts]

Rio and Subtext

I'm pretentious and I love media analysis so I wanted to break open the scene where Rio and Agatha fight, right after Agatha has broken out of the spell. The fun part about media analysis is that I could be 100% wrong!! and that's okay lol

SO! AAA uses something called re contextualization, where almost every interaction has a layer that is given a greater context later on and i LOVE it. It's not 100% perfect but the biggest moments work so so well. I think one of the best examples of this is the first fight between Agatha and Rio. Looking back, especially during eps 4 and 5 it's really hard to see what the hell Rio was even doing there. But I firmly believe that Rio showed up to warn Agatha that the seven were coming. YES OBVIOUSLY her showing up was also a vehicle for exposition, but diegetically, I think it was Rio's way of warning Agatha.

Sources:

The beginning of the fight, it's obvious even from a first watch-through that Rio is holding back. She easily overpowers Agatha multiple times and at first we're meant to interpret this as someone 'playing with their food' so to speak. On a larger scale, I believe this is a test. "oh hey, you really are out, but you're also so vulnerable"

next, Agatha yields, something I think Rio isn't used to seeing her do. It's here where Rio confirms that Agatha 1. has no power and 2. has no idea what's been happening while she's been trapped.

Then, Rio concedes. She can't kill Agatha, but the Salem Seven can. On the first watchthrough, it sounds like she's tangentially related to the Salem Seven. She's dressed similarly to them, she's the one that mentions them, and she also specifically says she'll "tell them where to find you"

However, in Episode 5, we get context on a few things.

Who the Salem Seven are

Rio is very defensive of Agatha ("when her own mother tried to have her executed" "where is she?")

Rio doesn't particularly like the seven, in fact she seems to, at least in part, dislike them ( "they became a feral, hive-minded coven bent on revenge")

Rio doesn't like Evanora Harkness ("yeah well, her mother can't have her")

At no point is Rio ever shown to command or work with the salem seven, but she is shown protecting Agatha (verbally) from anyone who tries to take her away

When Rio is revealed as Death, it re-contextualizes a lot of the rest of their interaction. Rio cannot kill Agatha because it's against the cosmic rules (which we also learn she follows STAUNCHLY) but she also cannot directly save Agatha. If the Salem Seven were to attack her, Rio could not save her from dying. This also puts a lot of emphasis on their final battle, wherein Rio is so distraught that she's more than willing to break the rules of her existence just to bring Agatha closer to her.

SO!

her parting words from ep 1

"I am not the only one who wants to see you dead. Wants to see you burn, or hang, or drown" ... "Okay Agatha, but I'll be sure to tell them where to find you." ..."the worst of them, the Salem Seven, I expect you'll see them at sundown. After all these centuries, Agatha Harkness will finally meet her end, it really warms the heart" ..."yes I do, it's black and it beats for you"..."te veo"

translation: I love you. I cannot kill you (because of rules), I'm upset with you, but I cannot kill you (because it would kill me). And I'm obsessed enough with you that I cannot let anyone else kill you, but I cannot save you. So I am warning you, they aim to kill you and they can kill you. They will not hesitate and you cannot escape this if they find you, so find another solution. I love you so much my Very Being is devoted to you. I love you, and I see you.

again, yes, so much of that is exposition (antagonist setup, inciting incident etc) but I really and truly believe that this was a warning above all. feel free to disagree! i just love love talking about the deeper meaning behind things :3

[keeryhours]

new year’s magic - eddie munson

Eddie Munson x female! reader

Masterlist

Eddie Munson Masterlist

Summary:

You and Eddie meet up at Steve’s annual New Year’s party

Warnings:

Drinking, kissing

Word Count: 1.2k

A/N:

Happy New Year to all of you!! I hope 2025 is the best yet! This is just a short little oneshot I wrote to celebrate. I hope you like it! And thank you again @punkrockmlchael for my banner ily!

—

Steve Harrington’s New Year’s party was in full swing, living up to its reputation for another year. The music was loud, the alcohol was flowing, and it was nearing midnight.

You stood awkwardly to the side, a mixed drink in a red solo cup clutched tightly in your hand. This wasn’t really your scene, but Steve insisted on your presence. You had rolled your eyes when he first brought it up, but as you always did when it came to Steve, you eventually gave in.

Now he had effectively abandoned you, which you couldn’t really blame him for because it was his party after all. But you weren’t close with these people, you didn’t know how to talk to them. You were debating heading out early, before the countdown even happened - because who was going to kiss you at midnight? No one yet again, that’s who.

You were brought out of your thoughts by a hand on your lower back. You jumped, some of your drink splashing over the rim of your cup and onto your dress. “Shit!”

“Jesus, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you.”

You looked up and immediately softened when you saw those brown doe eyes looking back down at you, wild curls framing his smiling face.

“It’s okay, it’s not that bad,” you said, face flushing red as you reached for some paper towels on the kitchen counter.

“Here, let me help you,” Eddie said, quickly taking the paper towels from your hands and dabbing at your dress with them. Thankfully not much had spilled - your outfit certainly wasn’t ruined. You stood there as Eddie wiped at the fabric over your boobs for an awkwardly long time. Once he was satisfied, he shoved the wet towels into the trash can. “Good as new!”

You looked down at your little black dress - you couldn’t tell anything had been spilled on it at all. You smiled back up at Eddie. “Thanks. My hero.”

Eddie chuckled, a hand on the back of his neck. “I don’t know if I can qualify as your hero when I was the one who scared you in the first place.”

“Oh, no,” you said, not wanting your friend to feel bad. “I just wasn’t expecting anyone to come talk to me.”

Eddie looked around at the crowd. “Not exactly your scene, eh?”

“Definitely not,” you admitted, taking a sip of your drink. “I didn’t think it was yours, either.”

Eddie shrugged, giving you a sheepish grin. “It’s not. But Harrington wouldn’t leave me alone about it, and I figured, could be fun?”

“Are you having fun?” You asked, eyebrows raised at him over the rim of your cup.

“I am now that I’m talking to you,” he smiled. Your cheeks heated even more, looking away from him and into the contents of your drink.

“I’m not exactly the most fun person at this party,” you mumbled. Honestly, you still weren’t even sure how you and Steve Harrington had become friends in the first place. He never even noticed you all through high school, but when you started working at Family Video with him and your best friend Robin (who insisted he was a changed man and wasn’t King Steve anymore), you just hit it off. You had been close friends ever since.

You met Eddie when your close friend insisted you meet her new boyfriend, Gareth, and his D&D buddies. You were shy and dreaded meeting new people, but you were also into fantasy and games, so you agreed.

Eddie became one of your best friends immediately. He invited you into Hellfire - something that was sacred and rare, as your friend and Gareth filled you in - and you became a regular in their campaigns. Eddie was even in the process of helping you come up with your own campaign to DM for the club, which again, was sacred and rare and shocked the rest of the group to their core.

But Eddie had a soft spot for you.

Maybe there was something else there, too.

You had had a crush on Eddie since you first met him. How could you not? He was just cool, liked fantasy, liked D&D, loved metal music and could play guitar (which was so, so hot). He even played guitar for you a few times, which had your heart melting.

Just like it was now with him standing so close to you.

“It’s time for the countdown!” Steve called loudly from wherever he was, and the whole party cheered. Everyone shuffled into the living room where the large TV was on. You and Eddie stayed back in the corner, away from most of the chaos.

The Times Square ball filled the screen. As it began its descent, the whole party cheered along with the countdown.

“10! 9!”

Eddie shuffled a little closer to you, but you were sure it was just because of the crowd.

“8! 7!”

You took the last sip of your drink, sitting it on the table to the side of you. You’d clean it up later.

“6! 5!”

You felt Eddie place a hand on your hip. It sent an electrical current through your body, making you shiver. His calloused fingertips were pressed against the bare skin peeking through your sheer dress. He smelled like beer and cheap cologne. It was nice.

“4! 3!”

Eddie turned you to face him with his hands on your hips. You looked up at him wide eyed. Your body was humming with excitement and nerves as you looked into his eyes, searching for what he was planning behind that smirk.

“2!”

He pulled your body flush against his. You gasped.

“1! Happy New Year!”

Eddie leaned down and pressed his lips against yours as cheers and noise makers went off around the room. You think your heart might have stopped for a moment. His lips captured yours with a confidence you didn’t fully expect from him. You wrapped your arms around his neck as your knees went weak and you shared the tender yet heated kiss. You tangled your fingers in the hair at the base of his neck as he pressed his body impossibly closer to yours. His tongue slipped into your mouth and you happily let him in.

“Get a room, you two!” Steve yelled jokingly, laughing from across the room. “But also, about time!”

Eddie pulled away and you knew you were red as a tomato with how hard you were blushing. Eddie pushed a strand of hair behind your ear as he grinned down at you. “You have no idea how long I’ve been wanting to do that.”

“Me too,” you admitted, which made Eddie chuckle.

“You know, they say that whatever you’re doing when the clock strikes midnight, that’s what you’ll be doing all year.”

You raised your eyebrows. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.” He leaned in, placing a kiss to your cheek before his lips reached your ear. “Be my girlfriend, maybe? So we can do this all year?”

You giggled, the biggest smile covering your whole face. “I would love that.”

Steve erupted into cheers and claps again, waving his noisemaker in the air. “That’s what I love to see! Magic always happens at the Harrington New Year’s party!”

[nuggeteri]

Blue is fulfilling (And I do mean this, too. So much of the color Blue has been with me through my creative processes. Blue is fulfilling.)

Luminescence. It's not done, but it's my baby. It's my original work and I could never ever let it go.

The Hate U Give by Angie Thomas, 2016 Best Seller

WatcherAurora and Amethystfairy1. TheYesterdayShow, A-Plethora-Of-Peters. TheDreadedRobert

Any of the Cane scenes in Luminescence, honestly.

It was a lead up to a sex scene in my fanfic "Half The Dessert's Rotten". I wouldn't have had to write the sex, just to imply it was there, but.. I'm asexual, and my god, how do some people write smut. thats beyond me

Scott Smajor and TangoTek.

I can't draw Scott. With others, it's fine, right, but Scott, i hold so much love for him and I want him to be so perfect that I can't draw him, because i'll never be satisfied with it.

It has to be all of TTSBC from Amethystfairy1. Sometimes I'll just go to their dms and quote their own fic.

Traffic Life Series!

Traffic Life Series!!!!

Mhm,,, I have this Unicorn AU I'm working with with Syn, as well as GUILDED CAGE!!! with Cat. But I'm looking forward to post more personal projects like Beat Around The Bush or an Impdubs oneshot.

Even Joined Walls Fall Down by WatcherAurora wrecked me more than anything else but,,, yeah.

Something new...Uhm, Legos?

My general approach to writing? I take it more laid back than before, making it much more entertaining for myself.

Prophecies! For Guilded Cage, with Cat. Very interesting.

I wanna say....Buzzkill?

definitely "Til the end of the earths (guess we found out where the earths ends)".

Apocalypse AU with the fic mentionned above ^. I always go for more Modern/Highschool/college Aus otherwise.

Unicorn scott as a concept. sorry syn not sorry

Rescue Fire by ImagineThat

Ah, this is a hard one, because I usually try to make everything fit? And if it doesn't make it, then the idea was just.. Not great. Maybe in Rotten Dessert, I wanted to make Scott's relationship with his mother so much more worse, but instead, I ended up making it another fic entirely (Beat Bush). Maybe shipping Gem and Cleo in "Tomorrow we'll dig through the garbage" because I forgot Cleo was already shipped with Martyn.

TheYesterdayShow's new series, "A billion moths flying towards you" (maybe i messed up the name.) Or the Lark AU! I liked that one!

woofuspigeon on Tumblr. I love their style.

All of Trust Life by Capritarius

My experience with the foster care system and speaking up about how fucked it all is.

Rodamrix on Wattpad has been a delight to have comment regularly. Thing is, they're not even in the Traffic life series fandom, and still want to support me!

Brother by Madds Buckley, Teen Idle by Marina, Pick Me by Alex Benjamin, all of Evil Anvil's songs.

WatcherAurora has been a huge inspiration. Amethystfairy1 too.

Take your time. you don't owe a chapter to anyone. Write at your pace.

Artist and Fic Writer EOY Asks

Describe your journey this year in three words

A piece you're proud of and why

A fic or artwork you enjoyed

Creator you'd like to see more from

A scene you enjoyed creating

A scene you struggled with

Comfort character to create for

Most challenging character to write or draw

A work from another creator you keep coming back to

Fandom you created most for this year

Fandom you'd like to create more for next year

A concept you'd like to develop next year

A fic or artwork by another creator that made you happy

Something new you tried this year

An area of your art you feel you improved upon

Something interesting you researched as part of the process

The creation that took the least amount of time

The creation that took the most amount of time

A new genre or style you tried

Something that made you laugh

Something that made you emotional

An idea you had that didn't make the cut

Rec another creator's fic you wish more people would read

Rec another creator's artwork you wish more people would see

A scene or image that lives rent-free in your head

Something that inspired you this year

Shout-out to a commenter/reblogger who encourages you

A song that relates to one of your creations

Shout-out someone who inspires you

Advice to yourself (and maybe others) for the new year

Don't forget to tag!

[marimayscarlett]

Richard needs to start doing coke again so he can be skinny again lol

I debated deleting this ask, or answering it with a meme, which didn't seem fitting in the long run. I know, I should ignore dumb messages like this, but it's so much shit in one pile, it does compel me to address it.

1. Richard has a whole history with drug abuse, which stretches from the early 90's into the early 2000's. He once mentioned that as soon as he stepped foot into the recording studio, he had the urge to consume drugs, to get that thrill to be able to work endlessly.

"I was killing myself. I was doing too many drugs. I took drugs just to work. Constantly, constantly, constantly." (article)

Most likely to be able to fuel his obsessive perfectionism when it came to music, to battle his need for appreciation and acknowledgement, to drive him further into creative spheres, doing all that while accepting the risk of killing himself, making his kids half-orphans in the process, ruining the band with his insufferable tendencies. Sounds like super fun, right?

2. Richard is pushing 60 and even though the media and society likes to disregard this little thing called "aging", it very much happens! Who would've thought that the body changes as the decades go by! Richard doesn't look like he's 30 anymore, and thank fucking God. Thank God he doesn't, thank God he got off drugs before it was too late, thank God he is able to go through life without snorting a line of coke several times a day, since he had the strength to go to therapy and through drug withdrawal. So what if he's a bit more now, good for him if he feels good in his body. I'd rather see him thick and voluptuous on stage than reading on his Wikipedia page "died age xy on a drug overdose", like many other musicians in the scene. But good to know you would embrace that possibility 👍🏻

3. If you're so much into (partly) drug-induced thinness, how about a little example, some late 1970s/early 1980s Jimmy Page perhaps? Who suffered from drug abuse through years without end?

Looks good right? Fine and healthy and like someone who is really thriving, is he not?

I'm very glad both Richard and Jimmy won their battle against drug abuse, since this is not a given. Many, famous or not, lost it.

Richard is alive, well, gives us his best on stage. Messages like yours disgust me to no end, mindsets like yours are downright dangerous, are a sign of utter stupidity and have no place whatsoever in this fandom. The "lol" behind it doesn't make it light-hearted, it makes it fucking dumb and even more immature.

Fuck off, and grow up.

[revolutionsingingintherainnn]

Hi Kavi! I was hoping I could request prompts 24 an 81 with desi!reader and Oscar Piastri where like both of them are cricket fans and have like a playful rivalry?

Feel free to incorporate it as u want (IK it's a bit of a weird request) .

Take ur time and i hope u have a great day:)))

Pub Rivalry ☽｡⋆

Prompts: 24. “I could pick you out from a room full of thousands of people.” + 81. subtle protection

₊˚ෆ op x desi!reader ᯓ★

₊˚ෆ fluff ᯓ★

masterlist ☾☼

The pub was buzzing with energy, full of excited chatter and clinking glasses. A bunch of cricket fans had all gathered to watch the super-hyped match between India and Australia. You and Oscar had managed to score a table near the front, the best seats in the house—well, for those who actually cared about cricket.

Oscar was already in his Australian jersey, scanning the crowd as he spoke with a half-smirk on his face. "I can't believe we're doing this," he said, his tone amused, though his eyes remained glued to the screen. "You're gonna lose today, I just know it."

You laughed. "Oh, please. India's got this in the bag. You guys are just pretending to be competitive.

He raised an eyebrow, smirking. "Pretending? You do know that Australia has one of the world's best cricket teams, don't you?"

You leaned in, your voice dripping with mock sympathy. "Well, someone has to support the underdogs."

Oscar laughed softly, clearly not fazed by your banter. "You're lucky I love you. Or else I'd be taking this way too seriously."

"Oh, I know. I could pick you out from a room full of thousands of people because you'd be the one sulking when India wins."

Oscar shot you a look. "You know that doesn't work on me anymore."

The match started, and the pub fell into a hushed silence as everyone focused on the screen. You and Oscar sat side by side, as was your wont, exchanging light jabs between sips of beer.

Australia's first over was quick and aggressive, and Oscar couldn't help but beam every time one of the Australian players made a good play. You, on the other hand, were practically bouncing in your seat every time India made a run. It was a sight to behold—your intense concentration and exaggerated cheers for every boundary.

This is it! This is the over!" you yelled, practically standing on your seat when an Indian player took a powerful swing. Oscar rolled his eyes, but there was a fondness in his smile as he glanced at you.

"You're impossible," he muttered, chuckling to himself.

And finally, after a few tense overs, you excused yourself to the bathroom. "Be right back! Don't get too cocky while I'm gone," you warned Oscar.

Oscar just waved you off, grinning. "Of course, of course. Hurry along; you don't want to be missed during the inevitable collapse of your own side!"

You flipped him off behind your back, and smiled when you heard his laughter.

The moment you vanished from view, Oscar turned back to the game, completely focused on the match. However, after a few minutes, he began to notice something: the crowd seemed different. People were shifting around, voices getting louder, but no sign of you. He looked around. No sign of your bright, beaming smile, no sign of your dramatic, loud cheers.

His eyes narrowed.

You had been away for merely a few minutes, yet Oscar didn't like that. There was a mild knot in his stomach as he pushed his way through the crowd, his eyes scanning to find you.

Meanwhile, you'd become sidetracked by a scene of some Australians celebrating the wicket of an Australian when you didn't even notice it until you'd meandered over there joining in on the celebration. You were pushing through the crowd when your foot caught onto something-a stray chair leg-and suddenly, everything was tipping to one side.

"Oh, no—" you mumbled to yourself as you went tumbling forward, your arms flailing wildly as your drink went flying out of your hand.

Before you could hit the ground, you felt a pair of strong arms catch you, pulling you back up with a swiftness that made you blink in surprise.

"Careful there," Oscar's voice was low, full of both amusement and concern as he steadied you, his hands on your shoulders.

You looked up at him, your heart racing a little from the sudden stumble. "I—uh—I might've gotten distracted, just a little," you stammered, your face flushing in embarrassment. "And now my drink is definitely gone."

Oscar let out a small laugh, a playful glint in his eyes. "I see. Distracted by the crowd, were you?

You groaned, smoothing your clothes. "Totally. I was just trying to enjoy the match, and then—well, here we are."

Oscar shook his head fondly, his expression softening. "Well, I could have told you that the pub floor isn't a good place to practice your cricket swings." He gave you a little nudge, making sure you were steady on your feet.

"Hey!" you shot him a playful glare. "I didn't need you to be my personal bodyguard, okay? I'm perfectly capable of not falling flat on my face."

Oscar's smile softened. His voice dropped a little lower, filled with an affectionate warmth. "I'm just looking out for you," he said, his hand brushing your cheek as if reassuring you that he wasn't letting you out of his sight. "You're clumsy, but I've got you, always."

It made your heart skip a beat to listen to him speak, always making you feel safe even when you were being the clumsy self that you mostly were.

"Well, I wasn't planning on a somersault. But thanks for catching me," you said, a little softer now.

"No problem," Oscar said, and his grin was back on his face. "Just keeping my beautiful girlfriend from public humiliation." His words were laced with that teasing tone, but behind it was something protective. It warmed your heart.

You rolled your eyes, but secretly you were grateful. "I swear, you're the only person who's actually prepared for my clumsiness."

"Well, it's not a bad thing," he said with a sly smile, brushing a lock of hair away from your face. "Keeps life interesting."

Before you could react, a deafening cheer went through the crowd—India hit a six, and you couldn't help but spring to your feet, forgetting all about the embarrassing fall you had made some minutes ago. Oscar retreated, but his hand reached up to the small of your back, urging you along as you leapt around with excitement, not letting you fall again. It was such a simple, protective gesture, but it made your heart flutter.

The match was nearing its end, and the banter between you two was endless. Even if you were supporting different teams, there was something playful about the competition that just made everything a little funnier.

"Well, at least you're not completely useless when it comes to cricket," Oscar teased, as you cheered another Indian run in. "But I still don't think they are going to win. Australia's just better.

You shot him a teasing grin, tapping your fingers on the table. "We'll see, Piastri. We'll see. Just remember, even if India loses, I'll still be able to claim victory in this pub rivalry."

Oscar smiled, his eyes softening as he watched you, the warmth between you two undeniable. "You really think that's how this works, don't you?

"I know you think you can win everything, but sometimes, it's not about who wins the match," you said, grinning. "It's about who can outlast the other in teasing and banter."

Oscar gave you a sidelong glance, his tone more playful than ever, but his voice dropped lower, his gaze softening. "Well, lucky for you, I'm good at both. But when you trip again, I'll be right here—ready to protect you from another graceful tumble." His fingers intertwined with yours, reminding you that he was always there.

You grinned back at him, shaking your head. "Let's just hope my cricket team doesn't disappoint before I do."

Oscar's eyes softened, his hand finding yours and giving it a gentle squeeze. "Don't worry. You'll always be the winner to me—clumsy or not."

The match ended, with Australia securing the victory, but it didn't matter to you. The real prize was how comfortable and loved you felt next to Oscar.

As you both stood up to leave, the crowd still celebrating the match's conclusion, you turned to Oscar with a grin.

"Alright, Piastri. You won this round," you said with mock reluctance, knowing full well that your playful rivalry wasn't ending here.

Oscar pulled you into a quick, warm hug; his arms wrapped around you protectively. "Don't worry, I'll let you win next time. But only if you promise not to fall over in public again."

You smiled, wrapping your arms around him, your voice soft as you replied, "Only if you promise to be there to catch me.

Oscar’s smile softened, and he kissed the top of your head. “I’ll always be here. To catch you. and to win the next round of cricket, obviously.”

You looked up at him, your heart swelling with affection. “You’ve got a deal, Piastri.”

The playful banter and rivalry were still alive but, in this moment, it was clear—there was nothing you'd rather do than share these little, perfect moments with him. And as long as he was by your side, even if you tripped and fell a hundred more times, you'd always feel like a winner.

𓇼🐚☾☼🦪

i'm shit at cricket, whether its knowing about the sport or playing it, but let me know if y'all like this one! this is my prompt list, so y'all can select a number, give me a driver and i will write it as soon as possible! i also have a google form for a taglist if anyone's interested! you can sent in your requests here :)

taglist: @imlonelydontsendhelp ; @greantii ; @anamiad00msday ; @maketheshadowsfearyou ; @nocturnalherb16 ; @justaf1girl ; @peterholland04

[unsoundedcomic]

as an author how do you keep track of all the simultaneous action in a chapter as densely plotted as this? do you work backwards from key moments, think linearly through what the actors would all do, both? do you make diagrams or something?

as always your work is an inspiration even as the most recent updates have me utterly wrenched <3

<3

Everything is already scripted, so the work is all done there. The scripts are made from an outline, yes, and that looks just like bullet points of story turns and plot beats.

A chapter starts with a brainstorming session. I ask myself what the big movers in the story want, and then I ask myself how they are making that happen, and how everyone else reacts. Everything is character-driven. Everything. I think it's really apparent but the setting and story are structured so they take a backseat - not a distant spot in the trunk, but a backseat - to the character drama. That's how the world-ending Silver monster can wait outside for two-hundred pages while our entire cast sorts out its trauma. And because this is a setting where trauma turns into literal monsters and love turns into literal squishy powerful friends, all that internal character drama can and does have physical, tangible impacts on the external story.

So it really and truly does have to be handled at the same time for it to work.

I won't lie, it can be tricky bringing it together. Sometimes I underestimate how much space a scene is going to need, which is how chapters wind up ballooning so big. And even still, I'm often guilty of rushing the story too much. But I try my best :)

[dee-writes-anime]

Chapter 1: The Witch Accused

FEATURING Ryomen Sukuna x Witch!Reader

SUMMARY In a village consumed by sickness and fear, you, an accused witch, are captured by a desperate mob and dragged to face judgment before the King of Curses, Sukuna.

CONTENT WARNINGS detailed depictions of a village struggling with disease, starvation, and decay, mentions of sickly children, livestock death, and human mortality, tense interactions between the narrator and villagers, including verbal accusations and implied mob violence, scenes of witchcraft involving blood and incantations, implied religious conflict, subtle criticism of faith and its intersection with fear and blame.

PLAYLIST

SERIES MASTERLIST

The village had always been a brittle thing, teetering on the edge of ruin long before I was born. It was nestled into the crook of a valley, cradled by sinking hills that slumped like jagged scars against the horizon. It wasn’t a place you’d stumble upon by chance- hidden away from trade routes, tucked between forests thick with bramble and treacherous rives prone to flooding. The isolation had once been its greatest strength, a sanctuary from the wars and chaos that riddled the lands. 

And then the sickness came.  

It began as a quiet invader, seeping through the village like a shadow, causing soil to grow stubborn. Clinging to the roots of crops like a jealous lover, dark and heavy with clay. Even in the best seasons, it gave little, forcing villagers to rely heavily on cattle and scrape by on meager harvests of bitter greens, barley, and the occasional patch of onions. 

Then those shadows curled through pens, infecting the cattle that the village had once praised. Once sturdy beasts began to collapse in fields, their bodies bloating under the summer sun, they milky eyes staring blankly into the void. The surviving livestock, fewer in number each year, were gaunt and skittish, their hides stretched thin over sharp bones. They too seemed to sense the growing death in the shadows as their milk soured and their offspring grew weaker and weaker.  

And finally, shadows of sickness- of death- slipped through the cracks of straw roofs, finally having curled into every corner. The village itself was a patchwork of survival—wooden homes leaning against each other for support, their thatched roofs sagging under the weight of neglect. Smoke curled from crooked chimneys, its bitter scent a constant companion, mingling with the acrid tang of unwashed bodies and the faint, coppery smell of blood from the butcher’s hut. A well sat at the heart of the village, its water once fresh and clear, now tinged with a faint, metallic aftertaste that no one dared question too closely. 

The people bore the signs of its slow, merciless grip. Their skin was sallow, stretched thin over angular bones, their hands chapped and cracked from work that never seemed to end. Hollow cheeks and sunken eyes told stories of sleepless nights and empty stomachs. Their clothes, once simple but serviceable, were now threadbare and patched so many times the original fabric was hardly recognizable. Loose tunics hung over narrow shoulders, cinched at the waist with frayed cords, and the occasional shawl or cloak—woven from coarse, undyed wool—offered meager protection against the cold.  

The children fared no better. Their bare feet left prints in the mud as they scurried between homes, their laughter thin and fleeting. Many of them had red-rimmed eyes from coughing fits that never quite left, their small hands gripping sticks or scraps of wood as makeshift toys. Even the strongest among them looked frail, as though the village itself drained the life from them as payment for their survival. 

Generations had lived and died here, their lives marked by toil and prayer, yet little else. The temple at the edge of the village was the tallest structure, its roof patched with mismatched tiles scavenged from who-knew-where. Its wooden beams sagged, and the faint chime of its bell at dusk carried a mournful note. It stood as a monument to the villagers’ faith—faith that had grown brittle over the years, much like the wooden beams that groaned under its weight. 

Said temple was led by the “elders,” who could be considered a different breed entirely. They were wiry and hunched, their backs bent from years of labor in the fields and the weight of authority they carried like millstones around their necks. Elder Kazu was their figurehead, his face a web of wrinkles that deepened every time he spoke. His hair, sparse and snow-white, framed a narrow face with sharp, calculating eyes. He walked with a gnarled staff, its wood polished smooth by years of use, and though his voice cracked when he spoke, it still carried the weight of command. 

Beside him were the others—Elder Masami, with her thin lips and perpetually furrowed brow, and Elder Daiki, who had long since lost his teeth but none of his sharpness. Their clothing was slightly more intact than the rest of the villagers’, a sign of their status. Masami’s long tunic was adorned with faded embroidery at the cuffs, a hint of red thread that might once have been vibrant. Daiki wore a heavy woolen cloak draped over his narrow shoulders, its edges fraying but still imposing in its bulk. 

The market square was little more than a dirt clearing where merchants used to come, though their visits had dwindled to nothing in recent years. Even the well, the village’s lifeline, bore signs of decay. Its stone walls were cracked, and the water within tasted faintly of iron, as though the sickness had poisoned even the earth. 

The sickness only worsened from there as fevers stole both the strongest and weakest, the oldest and youngest, with seemingly no pattern, leaving behind far too little with scars in the shape of coughs that lingered like unwelcome guests. They seemed to move through this dying world like ghosts, their footsteps quiet, their voices softer still. A people clinging to the remnants of a life they no longer believed in and no matter how many stories the elders told, their eyes stayed empty. At first, they blamed the river, its waters swollen and brackish after a summer storm. Then they blamed the traders who passed through, though fewer came with each year. The blame shifted like the wind, but the sickness stayed, digging its claws deeper with each passing season. The village had limped through years of disease, desperation a constant companion whispering in the ears of the villagers as they eventually turned their gaze to me.  

“Her,” they whispered. “It’s because of her.” 

They never said it to my face, of course. They feared me too much for that. When I walked through the market square, their conversations would drop into hushed tones, their gazes shifting quickly to the ground. Mothers pulled their children close as I passed, shielding them as if my shadow might curse them. The few merchants brave—or desperate—enough to trade with me kept their words clipped and their hands trembling as they handed over what I bought. I never bargained with them. I paid full price or not at all. It wasn’t charity. It was control. They’d seldom leave small offerings at my doorstep —half-eaten loaves of bread, broken beads, wilted flowers. Apologies, or perhaps bribes, to keep my wrath at bay. 

To them, I was an outsider, not because of where I came from but because of what I could do. They feared me, but they needed me, and that fragile thread had kept their hatred at bay for a while. 

But it wasn’t always this way. Once, I had been one of them, tolerated if not entirely accepted. My knowledge of herbs and remedies had been a boon when the sickness first came. I had eased their fevers, soothed their children’s aches, and kept the worst of it at bay for a time. But the lands were sick—sicker than any tincture or spell could fix—and my small successes weren’t enough. The people needed someone to blame, and it was easier to point to the witch who lived on the outskirts of the village than to face their own failures or the cruelty of the world. 

Their fear, though, was not entirely misplaced. 

I was no saint. My patience had worn thin years ago. The first time someone dared to accuse me outright, I made a spectacle of it. I hadn’t harmed them—no need to dirty my hands for a fool—but I had spoken their name during a storm, loud enough for the thunder to carry it, and left dried bones where they would find them. I let their imagination do the rest. The next morning, they left the village, and no one dared to follow. 

Now, they called me a monster behind closed doors, muttering their curses to their gods, but they still came to me when they had nowhere else to turn. When the children coughed too hard to breathe. When their crops failed, and they needed someone to tell them it wasn’t their fault. I helped them—sometimes—but not without reminding them of what I was capable of. They needed the fear as much as I needed them to feel it. 

For all their hatred, they couldn’t help themselves. It was easier to fear me than to admit their gods had abandoned them, that the sickness in the lands had no cure. 

Despite their fear, the village clung to its routines like a lifeline. The blacksmith’s hammer still rang out in the mornings, dull thuds echoing through the square. Children still played near the well, their laughter sharp and fleeting, as though they knew better than to let it linger. The temple bells still chimed at dusk, their hollow tones calling for prayers that no one truly believed would be answered. 

But beneath it all, the air was thick with tension, like the pause before a storm. The villagers had spent years shouldering their burdens, but even the strongest beams splinter under enough weight. And when they broke, they would come for me. 

The village was a place that could survive anything, but it would never thrive. It was a monument to endurance, a lesson in scarcity. It had stood against the odds for generations, but I could see the cracks spreading, could hear the creak of its foundations. These people had long since forgotten how to hope, how to dream. I’d watched it happen, year by year. All they knew now was fear. 

And fear, I had learned, could only be contained for so long. 

“Morning, Elder Kazu,” I said as I passed, my tone polite but edged with sharpness. My hands clutched the woven basket at my side, filled with bundles of herbs I had spent the morning collecting. The elder gave a stiff nod in return, but his jaw was tight, the corners of his mouth pulled downward. 

“Witch,” he said finally, his voice low, as though afraid it might carry. “The land suffers, and you—” He hesitated, his lips trembling before he found the courage to finish. “You walk as if it doesn’t touch you.” 

I stopped mid-step, turning to look at him. The others near the well froze, their eyes darting between the two of us like rabbits scenting a wolf. 

“You think I’m untouched?” I asked, keeping my voice calm, almost pleasant. I stepped closer, slow enough to watch him shift uncomfortably. “Tell me, Elder Kazu, how untouched I must be when you’ve come to me five times this year for teas to ease your cough? Or when your grandson came to me, pale as death, because nothing the temple priests did could break his fever?” 

Kazu’s jaw tightened further, and his fingers curled around the edge of his walking stick. “And I paid you for those things.” 

“Yes,” I said, my voice like silk. “You did.” 

I let the silence stretch, thick and suffocating. One of the other elders shuffled uncomfortably, the sound of his sandals scraping against the dirt breaking the quiet. 

“I’ve done no harm to you or this village, and yet you speak of me as though I brought the sickness upon the land myself.” I leaned in just slightly, enough to make Kazu stiffen. “Perhaps you should stop looking for devils in the shadows and instead ask why your gods have turned their backs on you.” 

The crowd around us sucked in a collective breath, their fear palpable. Kazu’s face turned red, anger mingling with something sharper, something he wouldn’t dare admit to himself: fear. 

I straightened and turned to go, my basket swaying lightly at my side. “Let me know if your grandson’s cough returns,” I said over my shoulder. “I wouldn’t want him to suffer for your pride.” 

Later that day, as I sat outside my small home on the outskirts of the village, I saw her approaching. I recognized her as one of the people in the crowd from earlier in the morning, she had been clutching the rosary at her chest as she watched the whole ordeal, shaking like a leaf. The woman’s steps were hesitant, her child clinging to her skirts. She wasn’t the first to come here, and she wouldn’t be the last. Still, I didn’t move, watching as she stopped a few feet away. 

“Please,” she said, her voice trembling. Her eyes darted around as though she feared being seen. “My son—he hasn’t been able to breathe all day. The priest said... said it’s in the hands of the gods now.” 

The boy’s face was pale, lips tinged blue, his breaths shallow and uneven. It was a cruel sight, one that tugged at the edges of my mind, though I wouldn’t show it. 

“And you think my hands will do better than theirs?” I asked, leaning back against the doorframe. My tone wasn’t kind, but neither was it cruel. It was deliberate. 

She hesitated, clutching the boy tighter. “Please,” she said again, desperation cracking her voice. “I’ll pay you.” 

I tilted my head slightly, letting the silence stretch just long enough for her fear to blossom. Then I stood and pushed the door open with a creak. “Bring him inside.” 

She hurried past me, her steps unsteady but driven by urgency. The child let out a wet, gasping cough as she lowered him onto the cot near the hearth. I ignored her trembling, focusing on the boy. He was far gone, but not beyond my reach. Not yet. 

“Wait outside,” I said, not bothering to look at her. “You’ll only make it worse.” 

She opened her mouth to protest but thought better of it, retreating reluctantly. The door creaked shut behind her, and I let out a slow breath. Alone at last. 

I crouched beside the boy, studying his face. His breathing was shallow, his small chest rising and falling unevenly. Reaching into my basket, I pulled out a bundle of herbs and laid them on the table, their pungent aroma filling the room. 

I worked quickly, grinding the leaves into a thick paste with a mortar and pestle. The rhythm of the grinding was steady, almost hypnotic. With a knife, I nicked my finger, letting a few drops of blood fall into the mixture. The paste hissed and darkened as my blood met the herbs, a faint shimmer rippling across the surface. 

“Breathe, child,” I murmured, my voice low and steady. “Breathe deep.” 

I smeared the paste across his chest, the dark substance soaking into his skin. His body jerked, his back arching slightly as his lungs fought against the weight pressing down on them. I closed my eyes, pressing a hand over his chest as I muttered an incantation under my breath. The words were old, their cadence sharp and commanding, filling the space with a thrumming energy that crackled in the air. 

The room grew still, the tension thick as the boy gasped suddenly, his breaths deep and ragged. The blue tint in his lips began to fade, replaced by a faint flush of color. His chest rose and fell evenly now, the rattling gone. 

I wiped my hands on a rag and sat back, watching him sleep. The paste on his chest had vanished, absorbed into his skin, leaving only the faintest trace of its presence. I felt the pull of exhaustion settle into my limbs, but it was a familiar weight, one I had learned to carry. 

The door creaked open, and the mother stepped inside. She froze when she saw him, her hands flying to her mouth. “He’s—” Her words broke into a sob as she dropped to her knees beside the cot, gathering the boy into her arms. 

She turned to me, tears streaming down her face. “Thank you,” she whispered, her voice breaking. “Thank you.” 

I should have known they wouldn’t leave it at whispers. Fear has a way of festering, and tonight, it seemed ready to boil over.  

It had only been hours since I sent the woman back on her way that I heard a knock at my door. It was sharp, relentless, and entirely unwelcome. 

I didn’t answer at first, letting it echo through the quiet of my home. Only a fool would come to my door so late, but then again, this village was full of fools. When the knocking didn’t stop, I sighed, setting aside the herbs I’d been drying by the hearth. The hour was late, and I wasn’t in the mood for their desperation tonight. 

When I opened the door, I was met with the gnarled face of Elder Kazu. Behind him stood three men, their faces half-hidden in the dim glow of lantern light, their expressions tight with unease. 

“Elder Kazu,” I said, my voice flat. “To what do I owe this intrusion?” 

The elder’s gaze darted past me, as if searching for something—or someone—inside. His knotted hands gripped his staff tightly, and his jaw was set with a determination I hadn’t seen before. Behind him, the men shifted uncomfortably, their fingers tightening around the tools they carried: a shovel, a rusted scythe, and a length of rope. 

“The child died,” Kazu said, his voice cracking like dry wood. “Despite your... efforts.” 

I stiffened, the words sinking like stones into my chest. The child from earlier. His mother had come to me, begging for help, and I had given it. My craft was strong, stronger than their faithless gods. But sometimes, even I could not bend fate. 

“And you think that’s my fault?” I asked, my voice calm, though I could feel the simmer of heat beneath it. 

“You said you healed him!” one of the men snarled, stepping forward. I recognized him—Hajime, the father of the boy. His face was twisted with grief, his eyes red-rimmed and wild. “You lied! You cursed him, just like you’ve cursed this whole village!” 

I met his glare, unflinching. “Your boy was dying when you brought him to me. I bought him time, nothing more. If you want to blame someone, blame the sickness in the land. Blame your gods for abandoning you.” 

Hajime surged forward, but Kazu caught him with a firm hand. “Enough!” the elder barked. His voice wavered but held enough authority to make Hajime fall back, trembling with fury. 

“It’s not just the boy,” Kazu said, turning back to me. His voice was quieter now, almost steady. “The crops failed again. The cattle are dying. More children are sick. And yet, here you stand, untouched. Unharmed.” 

I raised an eyebrow. “You think my survival is proof of guilt? Perhaps it’s just proof that I’m smarter than the rest of you.” 

That was the wrong thing to say. 

The men moved as one, lunging forward with clumsy but determined hands. I fought back, my nails raking across flesh as I twisted and kicked, but there were too many of them. Rope snaked around my wrists, biting into my skin as they wrenched my arms behind my back. Someone grabbed my hair, forcing my head down as they shoved me into the dirt. 

“Let go of me!” I snarled, my voice cutting through the night. “Do you think this will save you? Do you think your gods will return because you’ve tied up the only one who ever helped you?” 

“Quiet!” Kazu barked, his staff slamming into the ground with a dull thud. “We’ve had enough of your poison, witch. You’ll answer for what you’ve done.” 

They hauled me to my feet, the rope biting deeper as they dragged me into the square. My bare feet scraped against the ground, the cold seeping into my skin as the village came alive around us. Doors creaked open, faces peering out, and soon the square was full of murmurs and nameless faces. 

Shadows danced wildly across the thatched roofs of the village as torches flickered in trembling hands. They gathered around me like vultures circling a corpse, their whispers rising into a chant, fueled by fear and hatred that churned like poison in their veins. 

I stood in the center of it all, bound at the wrists, my face cloaked in shadow but my eyes unyielding. The ropes dug into my skin, rough and unrelenting, but I refused to show pain. My gaze swept over the crowd, unwavering, as if I were the one passing judgment. Their anger faltered when I looked at them—cowards, every last one of them. Some shifted uneasily, others clutched their children closer, as if I might lash out and curse them where they stood. 

“She brought this on us!” Kazu’s voice cracked like dry leaves, his bony finger trembling as it pointed in my direction. “The deaths! The sickness! It’s her witchcraft!” 

I tilted my head, letting the ghost of a smile curl my lips. “Witchcraft?” My voice was low, but it cut through the din like a blade. “Is that what you call your own failures?” 

The crowd rippled with unease, torches flickering as if the flames themselves feared me. I could almost taste their panic, a bitter tang that fed the growing ember of defiance in my chest. They wanted to blame me for everything that had gone wrong in their miserable little lives. They wanted a villain. And here I was, bound and ready to play the part. Their silence wasn’t just fear—it was a storm gathering strength, waiting to break.

“She has no shame!” a woman screeched, clutching her rosary so tightly it threatened to snap. “We must end this before her evil consumes us all!” 

The crowd closed in, their faces a blur of fear and hatred, their torches casting wild, flickering light. I felt the first tendrils of panic claw at my chest, but I shoved them down, keeping my gaze sharp and my spine straight. 

“If you think fire will save you,” I said, my voice ringing out over the square, “then you’ve already lost.” 

The words did little to calm them. If anything, it seemed to embolden them, their cries rising into a unified chant: “Burn her! Burn her!” 

Kazu raised a hand, silencing them with a single motion. “We’ll do nothing without the lord’s permission,” he said, his voice steady now. “Sukuna will decide her fate.” 

The name hung in the air, heavier than the smoke. Sukuna. The King of Curses. The monster who ruled over life and death in this land. I had heard the stories—the whispers of his cruelty, his insatiable hunger for destruction, his throne built on blood and fear. A chill ran through me at the thought of standing before him, but I didn’t flinch. Not here. Not now. 

The crowd parted as Kazu motioned for the men to drag me forward. My knees scraped against the dirt, my wrists burning against the rough rope. But I kept my head high, meeting their hateful glares with the same sharp defiance I always had. 

The forest loomed ahead, its shadows deep and foreboding, swallowing the torchlight as if even the trees feared the lord who reigned over this land. I kept my eyes forward as they pushed me forward, every step deliberate. Each one echoed my silent vow: If death awaited me at the end of this road, I would meet it standing tall. 

But deep in my chest, something stirred. Not hope—not even fear—but curiosity. A dark, creeping curiosity. If Sukuna was truly the monster they said he was, perhaps he would see what I already knew. That I didn’t belong in this crowd of cowards and fools. That my place wasn’t here, bound and powerless, but somewhere far greater. 

The flames of the torches dimmed as we disappeared into the forest’s embrace. With them went the last remnants of my old life. Whatever awaited me on the other side, I wouldn’t bow to it. Not to Sukuna, not to anyone. If the King of Curses wanted to break me, he’d need far more than rope and cowardly men. 

dividers by @strangergraphics

AUTHORS NOTE what better way to ring in the new year than posting the first chapter to a new series? Hope you enjoyed this one, my loves! More is coming very soon… hopefully 🩷🩷

TAGLIST @slutlight2ndver @surielstea @duhhitzstarr @arcanefeelings

[acedocx]

it's all been done, more than once

•

h.k.

word count: 13.4K

tags: hueningkai x reader, rockstar!musician!hyuka, college au, reader has anxiety, description of a panic attack, no this is not me projecting shut up, also i suck at writing drunk people please ignore, fluff, slow burn kinda but not really

warnings: swearing, alcohol use, depictions of panic attacks/anxiety, shitty formatting bc the author doesn't know how tumblr formatting works

🎸 author's note: hello! this is my first ever fic, please be kind to me. i started it way back in july, forgot about it, and then was hit with the divine inspiration to finish the whole thing in a week. enjoy!

•••

"are you having fun yet?"

it was all you could do not to smash the overpriced, slightly flat vodka redbull in your hand over your friend's head.

being in college means the acceptance of two undeniable truths: making questionable decisions and being broke. this is how you often found yourself at these cheap, shitty dive bars.

your lovely, wonderful best friend beomgyu (who would not appreciate having a glass smashed over his head and his outfit ruined, you reminded yourself) was the main perpetrator of your frequent nights out. beomgyu had bought in very early to the "college-is-freedom, good-time-not-a-long-time" mindset, often dragging you out at obscene hours during the summer to whatever club or bar was still open.

and then the next one.

and the next.

fortunately for the both of you (mostly him), classes didn't start for the fall semester for about another week. not that he had anything to worry about, he was kind of a genius—school came as naturally as breathing to him, something you had always sort of envied.

you forced a pained smile and spoke as loudly as you could through gritted teeth,

"yep. loads."

truth be told, you hated bars. they were loud, overwhelming, overpriced, unclean, and more often then not, way too crowded—people packed together like sweaty, drunk sardines. it's not like you were a germaphobe, but it's places like this where you were coming into contact with way more bodily fluids than you felt comfortable with.

the bar you found yourself in now was admittedly on the cleaner side, and to beomgyu's credit, he did pick the one you hate the least—a bar called 'annex'. it was an accurate name, as the bar was a small addition to a bigger restaurant, and was pretty charming despite its size.

it was certainly not without flaws; the chipped wooden bar barely left enough space for the bartenders to move around, even without the addition of bottles of liquor, miscellaneous knick-knacks, and probably illegally obtained road signs lining the walls. every time you looked, you saw something you hadn't seen before. had that poster been there the last time? what about the traffic light?

you really didn't like this scene at all—it made you nervous. but you loved beomgyu, and it's not like you didn't enjoy a drink or two, so it was kind of difficult to say no—especially once your cognitive abilities had been reasonably dampened by the alcohol.

"woahh...negative nancy over here," he said, holding his hands up in mock surrender and stumbling back a bit.

"that is not my name." you couldn't help but crack a small smile at beomgyu and his outdated phrases.

"i know what your name is, silly...it's an esspression!"

"ex-pression. how many drinks does that one you have there make?"

"s'what i said....and only like....three." you could see the gears in his head turning. "or...maybe...maybe six...which s'basically the same!" beomgyu said indignantly.

you rolled your eyes. you felt kind of bad being so off-put by the place, you didn't want to ruin gyu's fun—but you couldn't help it. your head was beginning to pound from the lights and the overwhelming sound of chatter coming from every direction, and the walls felt like they were closing in further and further by the second.

neon signs and LED lights were about the only illumination in the room, bathing everyone in purple, red, and blue hues. the poorly painted black stool you sat on wobbled as you craned your neck at the crowd in front of you; people were crammed together at tables, lined up outside the never-empty bathroom—or for the most part, directly in front of the tiny stage at the far end of the room.

before you could protest, the conversations in the room noticeably quieted—the humming noise of a guitar amp being plugged in and the feedback from a microphone replacing the voices.

this was the only part you truly kind of enjoyed. the music. most of the music at these kinds of places was...subpar at best; cover bands butchering classics, some guy in a graphic tee and flannel with guitar tabs on his phone thinking he's the next elliot smith—usually cringey, but entertaining nonetheless. but every once in a while, there will be a singer or a band that seems too big for the cardboard box of a bar they're in, too talented for such a small audience.

he looked about the same as any college musician would—nervous, a little shaky, bright eyed with hope that hasn't quite been crushed by the world yet (and probably aided by a few drinks, too).

he was tall—like, tall. imposing, almost, with broad shoulders and long limbs, juxtaposed with a soft, anxious expression. his clothes caught your eye too—black band tee, ripped black jeans, and what looked to be a black leather battle vest covered in patches you couldn't quite make out and studs on every seam. his grey-blue hair fell into his eyes as he adjusted the microphone from where it hit at about chest-height.

your eyes lingered on his hands. they moved from the microphone and found the neck and strings of the guitar like they belonged there; despite his air of nervousness, there was no doubt he knew exactly what to do with the instrument he had.

you cut your eyes at beomgyu, who attempted to make his way towards the stage before nearly faceplanting onto the black tile floors, catching himself on your shoulder and almost pulling you down with him.

"THAT'S my FRIEND! i-i live with that guy, he's my FRIEND—my BRO, guys! you GOT this, kai, you can...do it! m'so proud of you, bro!" beomgyu raised his drink in the air in an unsteady toast—most of the contents sloshing out and onto your clothes in the process—as he leaned against your shoulder. laughter rippled through the audience and you groaned, screwing your eyes shut, head in your hands in embarrassment.

the boy—kai, his name seemed to be, looked similarly embarrassed, ears tinged red and eyes closed. he shook his head, cleared his throat, and began to speak.

"um, hi. i'm hueningkai, or...just—just kai, as my, uh—friend said." he cleared his throat again, taking a shaky breath before continuing. "i'll be playing some music for you guys tonight—mostly original things, but some covers if i hear any good requests, 'kay?" kai gave a small half-smile, fingers finding the frets of the guitar again.

and then he began to play. and you probably had whiplash from how quickly your head snapped up from your hands. the sound that filled the room wasn't a soft cover of some old song—it was loud. it was sharp. the sound of gritty, messy, but intentional and practiced guitar pierced the room, instantly igniting the crowd of people that had gathered around the stage to see this kid play.

"holy shit," you whispered incredulously.

his voice perfectly broke and rasped where the music called for it, gaze shifted from soft to trenchant—all previous nerves seemed to have dissolved. he looked like a different person.

"holy shit," you repeated again to no one in particular. "this guy's a rockstar."

you became suddenly aware that you were no longer being used as an armrest. beomgyu had managed to regain enough composure to stumble his way into the crowd near the front of the stage, cheering and flailing about in what was probably supposed to be dancing.

you were torn between recording him for blackmail purposes later and going to get him before he got sick all over the other guests. finally deciding on the latter, you slid off the stool, a little woozy yourself.

you made it to beomgyu on two feet with no trouble, gently taking him by the shoulders, pulling him back towards the bar.

"come on buddy, you need some water in you, or you're gonna hate yourself tomorrow," you chided as he squirmed away from you.

"noooooo....m'having fun...wanna watch kai," he whined. "that's my—my...my friend...my friend—"

"i know, but i am also your friend, and this friend would rather you not be sick all over these people and the poor staff have to clean it up, you're gonna get us banned from this bar too, come on," you tugged a little harder—goddamn, he was stronger than he looked—sighing in frustration.

in the midst of your battle with beomgyu, your eyes met kai's as he played the final notes of the song. his silvery hair was damp with sweat, sticking to his face and neck which shone with exertion, hands still on the guitar in the position of the final chord. but his eyes. it was his eyes that stopped you.

in them, you saw the thing that you missed from a lot of these dive-bar musicians—from a lot of people in general. granted, covered songs aren't easy to add to, and it's not like it's a concert. but there's no soul in the music. they perform to make money and get out. kai had passion. as cheesy as it sounded, when you looked into his eyes, you knew this was his life, whether he was making money from it or not. the stage was his home, and you knew it.

for a moment, you felt like you couldn't move—paralyzed by this guy with his guitar, his pretty hands and his starry eyes. and then you felt beomgyu lean into your shoulder, head dropping against your shoulder, and the moment was gone.

"i don't...don't feel s'good..." he slurred, his whole body weight against you now. you sighed and propped him up, arm slung around your shoulder as you carried him outside.

"yep, see, i told you. this is why you shoulda listened to me when i told you three drinks ago that you should slow down. alright, let's get you back home, buddy."

you cast one last glance over your shoulder at kai, still panting from exhaustion and exhilaration, eyes still bright with the high of the music. you wondered if he even knew how bright he shone on that stage.

•••

"you did this to yourself, gyu."

"if you...speak again, i'm throw—urgh—i'm throwing up on your shoes next," beomgyu groaned.

thank the powers that be for the invention of the uber. you had both made it back to gyu's apartment in mostly one piece, and beomgyu himself, poor thing, was now curled up on the cold blue tile of the bathroom floor, clutching your hand like it was the only thing tethering him to this mortal plane—which, to him, it probably felt like it was.

you'd been here for about two hours, not wanting to leave beomgyu alone, and honestly not totally reconciled with the idea of getting an uber alone at three in the morning.

you'd asked him where his other housemates were, and through his hiccups, groaning, and gagging, you'd deduced that all of them were out for individual reasons; vacation, out with a friend, with family. you weren't sure which was which, and you decided not to push the subject. you hadn't actually met his housemates before, and this probably wasn't the best first impression.

you leaned your head back against the tiled wall of the bathroom, hand rubbing circles on beomgyu's back. you closed your eyes. your head still swam slightly from the alcohol, even though you had tried not to drink all that much. you looked over pityingly at the long-haired boy beside you, stomach revolting against him. poor thing.

"gyu?"

"ugh..."

"do you want me to get you more water?" you asked softly.

"ugh..."

"i'm assuming that's a yes. okay, i'll be back."

you pushed yourself to your feet, steadying yourself and making your way to the kitchen.

the apartment was small, but cute in a way. cozy. and messy, you noted; even in your altered state, you did double takes at some of the odd sights you saw around the place. why on earth is there a bike in the kitchen? you asked yourself, making a note to ask beomgyu about it at a later date.

as you finished pouring what was probably the sixth glass of water in two hours, you heard the handle of the front door begin to turn.

you spun to face the door in alarm. was someone trying to break in? what on earth could you do in this situation? you can't fight, you can't even walk straight! oh god, someone's gonna come in, rob gyu and his housemates blind, kill you twice—

the door opened and you were met with the same grey-blue hair and soft eyes you had seen on the stage two hours ago. ah, that's right. five people live here.

"oh, um, hi," you mentally smacked yourself in the head at your alarm. of course he lives here, beomgyu said it earlier. of course he's getting home now, it only makes sense. you quickly set the glass of water down and tried to smooth out your most likely unfixable outfit. "hi. i'm beomgyu's friend, i was with him at the bar you played at tonight. he's, uh, he's in there," you motioned toward the bathroom with a grimace. "he's...not doing too great."

hueningkai looked just as surprised to see you, mouth open slightly in shock, shaking his head to bring himself back.

"ah, thank you. he really can't hold his alcohol, can he? sorry about this, by the way, oh god, it's a mess in here—" red crept up his face as he took in the mess of the kitchen. you giggled slightly; maybe it was the alcohol, but you had the passing thought that he's kind of cute like this.

"don't worry about it, i'll be gone tomorrow. hueningkai, right? i watched you play, you're really good," you say.

he averted his eyes, half-smiling, ears still red. "ah, thank you, yes that's me. i appreciate that. and just kai is—is fine," he said, glancing once at you and away again.

you were suddenly extremely aware of how you looked—clothes twisted at odd angles from hours on the floor, hair simultaneously sticking to your face and out in all directions, face colored pink from embarrassment and the aforementioned vodka redbulls.

you quickly began trying to adjust your hair and you opened your mouth to respond, but were cut off from a drawn-out groan from the bathroom, making both you and kai cringe slightly. you sucked a breath in through your teeth.

"yeah, i'm gonna get this water to him before he starts trying to crawl out here after me. nice to meet you, kai," you say, waving slightly and grabbing the glass off the table, walking what you hoped didn't look like too quick a speed back to the bathroom, praying you didn't trip and fall.

•••

you refused the next time beomgyu invited you out, hoping desperately to avoid another tipsy run-in with kai.

realistically, you weren't that drunk, and surely you hadn't looked all that bad—at least not nearly as bad as gyu did. however, in the days since you arrived back to your dorm, you had managed to convince yourself that you could never look hueningkai in the face again, it would simply be too mortifying.

the last days of the summer holiday slipped by quickly, and classes began with much anticipation and even more dread.

the walk to your first lecture felt like miles, stomach twisting with nerves. you'd done this before. it's only lecture. but there's something about the first day of classes, when you don't know if you'll know anyone, looking upon unfamiliar faces and being thrust into an unfamiliar subject with no idea of how a professor will teach or test—it made you nauseous with anxiety every time.

and unfamiliar subject matter it was. advanced music theory and appreciation. you were a senior in college, an english major, and had finished up the majority of the required courses to graduate. all that was left was to fill the spaces with electives and courses that maybe you'd find interesting—or that would at least boost your GPA. that is how you ended up here, with a music theory course.

the idea is that it'll boost my GPA, you thought to yourself as you stepped into the chilly lecture hall. if i understand it at all. it did say advanced. you paused in front of the classroom door for a moment, hands shaking slightly. i did choir in high school, i remember the basics. it can't be that bad.

you pushed the door open, immediately greeted with chatter that surrounded you on all sides. you didn't really think to check how many people were in the class, and felt your heart sink into your stomach as you took in the unprecedented number of students. there had to be at least sixty, if not more.

"oh, no. no, no, no, no," you mumble to yourself, frantically scanning the room for a familiar face. your lungs felt as though they were shrinking with every attempted breath, heart rate picking up, uncomfortable warmth creeping up your face.

sixty-plus people who you didn't know, in a subject you didn't know, in a classroom you weren't familiar with—this was your idea of hell. what if you embarrass yourself? what if you don't make any friends? what if you don't understand the material? what if it tanks your GPA? what if—

a flash of blue-grey caught your eye, your head snapping over to the source. you admittedly felt relief wash over you as you recognized the side profile of hueningkai, staring intently at the notebook in front of him, scribbling down something you couldn't make out. there was one open seat left next to him. your only opportunity.

all previous notions of never looking him in the face again forgotten, you hurried from the door, down to the row where he sat. he didn't even notice you approach, too intent on writing what looked to be sheet music. you cleared your throat.

"this seat taken?" you asked softly.

kai's head jerked up, obviously startled, cheeks and ears tinged a familiar red with surprise.

"oh, hi! uh, no, no it isn't, you're good!" he said, shifting to the right as to give you enough room to put your things down. you smiled gratefully at him, hurrying into the seat, immediately feeling some of your nerves dissipate at being sat down at last.

"i'm glad to see a familiar face. i don't know anyone in here," you gave kind of a half-hearted laugh, hoping he couldn't tell how nervous that fact actually made you.

"i understand. that's the worst feeling. im glad i have a few friends in here—oh, one of my housemates is in here actually. but, he's avoiding me right now, i think."

"oh? where? and, why?"

"two rows up, four to the left. and because i maybe ate the last of his cereal this morning," he added sheepishly, glancing up to where you assumed the housemate in question was sitting.

"oh, criminal offense," you said, following kai's gaze. there was a boy there, glaring back down at him. he had plush lips and an intense gaze; his hair was a dark cherry red, his bangs falling messily into his eyes, still remaining somehow fashionable. you turned back to kai, shaking your head in mock disdain. "truly deplorable."

"yes, yeonjun was not happy with me. i'm surprised i made it out of the house alive and in one piece."

you giggled, watching as the boy—yeonjun, kai had said—stuck his tongue out at kai before returning to scrolling on his phone.

before you could start up another conversation, the professor walked in, and a hush fell over the room. you didn't catch the professor's name. or, for that matter, anything else he introduced in his first lesson.

within fifteen minutes, whatever modicum of confidence you had in understanding the course was completely crushed to nothing. these were words you'd never heard before, symbols you'd never seen—half the time, you could've sworn he was speaking another language. he is, you reminded yourself. a lot of music theory jargon is in italian—that makes me feel a little better.

you stopped processing the words coming out of the professor's mouth about forty-five minutes in. you glanced over at kai, not sure whether you'd be more or less relieved if he looked as lost as you.

he didn't, of course. he was completely attentive, eyes locked onto the board at the front of the room, nodding every once in a while in understanding. he didn't even seem to be taking many notes, though he did scribble a few down.

your eyes trailed down once more to his hands, where they fidgeted with his mechanical pencil. you felt that same feeling you did at 'annex', the same thought crossing your mind as when you saw his hands rest on the guitar—his hands, though nervous, were practiced and knowledgeable. and they really are such pretty hands, you thought.

you only came back to yourself when you heard the sound of chairs scraping and people scurrying, the hum of chatter from before resuming.

"you okay? you look..." kai trailed off, looking for a nice way to finish the sentence.

"like all my hopes and dreams of passing have been crushed to dust and i am now reconsidering all decisions that have led me to this moment?"

"uh, yeah, something like that," he laughed.

"i thought he was speaking another language, i felt so lost."

"to be fair, you're half-right, a lot of musical terms are based in—"

"in italian, i know."

you took a deep breath, putting your head in your hands, fingers tangling in your hair as you shook your head slowly.

"i am so undeniably, irrevocably, unequivocally fucked, hueningkai," you said, your tone so serious it almost made you laugh at yourself.

"come on, don't beat yourself up! i'm sure you'll get it!" he encouraged, tilting his head to the side with a half-smile. "hey, if it makes you feel any better, i felt like i had forgotten twenty-two years of learned comprehension skills in my literature class earlier."

"seriously? i love literature!"

"maybe we can help each other out, then."

you gave him a grin, the warmth of a new friendship alleviating the cold dregs of anxiety that still snaked through your stomach. "yeah, maybe so."

maybe this semester wouldn't be so bad.

•••

it was a grey, chilly october afternoon, the air heavy and damp with the coming storm. you glanced through the library study room window for the first time in hours, startled by the lack of light. you and hueningkai had been hunched over a library table, poring over your respective subjects for—how long had it been? four? maybe five hours now? your head swam with intervals and time signatures, scales and symbols you didn't understand.

"think of it like the math part of music," kai had tried to explain. "adding and subtracting different notes, chords, harmonies, dynamics n'stuff, to create an instrumental!"

you had nodded along, made the appropriate "ohhh"'s and "mhm"'s, but truthfully you were no closer to understanding how it worked than you had been when you started. you leaned back in your chair, sighing and wincing as your spine voicing its dissent at your posture.

your eyes fell on kai who was sat in front of you, eyes focused intently on a copy of 'the metamorphosis' by franz kafka, notebook and papers scattered haphazardly across the table. he didn't look to be in much better shape than you were, his brows furrowed and his hand tangled in his hair in a mix of concentration and frustration.

eventually, with a groan of annoyance, kai rested his head on the table, closing the book in defeat.

"but why is he a bug?"

"it's probably a metaphor."

"for what?"

you paused, thinking carefully. "for a lot of things! it depends on how you look at it," you said eventually, and giggled slightly at the unimpressed look on kai's face.

"well, let's see. what do you know about modernist literature?"

"that it was weird.".

"well, yes," you said in mock exasperation. "but what do you know about it historically?"

he thought for a moment, gears turning in his head as he thought back to the lecture notes he had just gone over. your eyes fell on his hands as they often did now, and you noticed that he seemed to be playing an imaginary piano as he thought, as if playing a melody only he could hear.

"let's see...uh, there was a lot of new stuff happening, like in science and psychology and inventions and whatnot," he began, glancing at you for approval and smiling slightly when you nodded at him to keep going.

"world war one had just happened, so there was a lot of unrest and social disorder, and a lot of anxiety and feelings of...maybe isolation? brought around by that," he said, nodding to himself.

"good, you're right! and what are some characteristics of modernist literature?" you asked, excited to be talking about something you understood for once. l

kai furrowed his brows once more, fingers playing that silent melody on the table again. you wondered if he was always composing, even if it was subconsciously.

"um...human thought? like the human psyche? language? perspective? am i even close to the mark here?" he laughed nervously.

"you are, you're doing great! those are all parts of it. so, in conjunction with the social context you mentioned before, maybe gregor being a bug is commentary on the feelings of isolation, loneliness, and anxiety of people during this time! maybe his dislike for his job and the coldness of his higher-ups and family is indicative of kafka's feelings on corporate bureaucracy and capitalism! maybe it's a metaphor for struggling with a chronic condition like an illness that causes the person to become not-themselves, and the rift that it creates in a family, who knows!

"that's the beauty of modernist literature, it all depends on perspective! instead of falling short because, of course, human language is inadequate at actually conveying things, it relies on that fact—the story is different to everyone!" you said excitedly.

literature and writing had really been the only two subjects that had come naturally to you. even music—which you loved and appreciated for it's artistry—was difficult to you when it came to the theory portion. it wasn't that you weren't good at other things, but you never had to work as hard to understand books. there was something in the analysis of it, picking apart the layers of a novel, building a broader historical and social context through the author's commentary—it was just fun for you.

you felt your face warm slightly as you looked back at kai, suddenly slightly embarrassed of your outburst. his expression was unreadable, somewhere between confusion, interest, epiphany, and something soft that sparkled just behind his eyes. it was similar to the glimmer you had seen in them at his first performance at 'annex' a month ago.

but he cleared his throat and looked back down at his notes, and it was gone.

"yeah, yeah, that, um, that makes sense. i hadn't thought about it that way. you'd make a good teacher," he added.

"i guess it's a good thing that it's what i want to do, then," you giggled.

"you want to teach?" he asked, 'the metamorphosis' now forgotten as he propped his chin up with his hand, leaning forward with interest.

you nodded, "mhm! i—well, i guess it's pretty obvious what i want to teach," you said sheepishly. "what about you? what are you majoring in? are you doing something with music?"

kai's expression hardened, and his hands ceased their playing on the table.

"no, i...i'm just majoring in business. i'm taking this class as an elective for credit hours, like you."

"what? really? but...don't you love music?" you asked, bewildered.

"of course i do, more than anything," he murmured, a wistful look in his eyes. "but it won't go anywhere. it doesn't make enough money, and i just...don't think i'm good enough for it to be a stable career choice, honestly."

you were genuinely floored. kai seemed puzzled at your bewildered expression, snickering a little at your wide eyes and mouth that was slightly ajar. eventually you found words again, shaking your head slightly as you spoke.

"not, not good—are you kidding ?! you don't think you're a good enough musician to have a career in it?!" you couldn't believe it. this boy who you believed to be a true star, who had music in every aspect of his being, didn't believe he was good enough to be a musician.

"well, i mean...no, not really," kai said hesitantly, obviously a little stunned by your reaction.

"sorry, it's just...i can't believe that," you scoffed, shaking your head again. "i can't believe it. you're amazing, i mean truly amazing—with all due respect, the other musicians at 'annex' have nothing on you."

you began to see that familiar tinge of red make its way across kai's face and ears as he smiled shyly.

"thank you, thanks, that—that means a lot, but...i mean, it's just such an oversaturated industry, y'know? everyone wants to make music and get famous. and it just, it sucks, because it's about the money and not the craft. i'm not an elitist or anything, there's a lot of modern music that i love! but it really bothers me to see music that isn't made out of expression or originality, but made for money or fame, y'know?"

you nodded slowly, feeling a pang of sadness for him. you wanted to tell him how good he really was, how the first time you had seen him perform you couldn't take your eyes off of him, how you admired the way his hands looked at home on the frets of a guitar, how he seemed music incarnate to you.

but the words seemed to stick in your throat, and all you could respond with was a choked, "yeah."

the silence that followed was denser than the air outside. you noticed it had finally begun to rain, sunset obscured by dark clouds as it came down in sheets of blue-grey. like kai's hair, you thought, before immediately shooing the idea away. you broke the silence first, standing and stretching your stiff limbs, groaning at the ache of sitting in one place for five hours.

"oh-kay, if we're gonna keep up this studying thing, i've got to get some caffeine in me before i actually fall asleep. are you down for coffee?" you asked, already throwing your binders and papers back into your backpack.

"yeah! yeah, for sure," kai responded, words still slightly stilted from the awkward silence.

you turned towards the door quickly, trying to suppress the thought of how cute he looked when he was embarrassed. you noticed his hands had begun playing again—a different, slower melody.

"wonderful! you're driving."

•••

"what do you mean the heating doesn't work? do you enjoy misery? do you crave death?" your voice came out shaky and uneven, spoken through chattering teeth as you felt the cold rain soak deeper into your clothes. hueningkai looked at you, face a mix of amused and apologetic.

"i told you, we should've gone in your car. here, there's blankets in the back," he reached back behind the passenger seat (putting you in close proximity, which you tried not to think about) and pulled out a fluffy throw blanket, which you gratefully accepted.

"no heating, no cameras, no nothing—dude, how old is this car?"

"well, i've had it since high-school," kai mused, "and it was my dad's before it was mine. it's from 2002, it's not that old!"

"is there even bluetooth in this thing?"

"nope, but there is a cd player!"

"oh god, it's like the fuckin' dark ages," you groaned dramatically, sliding down into the worn leather seat of kai's car. he rolled his eyes at your theatrics, scoffing at you as he pulled out of the library parking lot. you gave him a teasing smile, pointing to the glove box.

"cds are in here?"

he nodded, and you took that as permission to take a look for yourself.

"alright, let's see, what does mr. music theory have to listen to—oh, there's some good stuff in here! alice in chains, metallica, paramore—i love paramore, awesome, awesome...the offspring, so true—wait, holy shit, is this 'selfish machines'? i love pierce the veil!"

"and what do you know about pierce the veil?" kai laughed.

"hey, i thought you weren't an elitist," you teased. "i still like my middle school emo music, thank you very much. but my best friend from high-school loved pierce the veil, even saw them in concert once. this one and 'a flair for the dramatic' were their faves," you explained.

"they have good taste. that's the reissue, i think—the one from 2013?" when you gave a small hum of confirmation, kai continued, "i like that one. it has one of my favorite songs on it."

"oh, the bonus track, you mean? i like that one too—'kissing in cars', right?"

"mhm," he said, smiling as you opened the case and pushed the cd into the drive. the familiar fast drums and the piercing sound of the guitar filled the car, and you sighed, reminiscing on drives like this with your friend—simpler times. you had moved away, and they went to a different college now, but you still talk.

"they just have such a cool sound," kai observed, and you hummed in agreement, smiling slightly still.

"kai, you write your own music and stuff, right?" you inquired, suddenly curious.

"yeah, why?

"what's the hardest part about it, and what do you enjoy the most? composition? lyrics?"

"no one's ever asked me that before." kai looked slightly shocked at the question, but quickly shook his head, turning his eyes back to the road. "i think lyrics are the hardest. building instrumentals and making sure they flow together is fun, but putting lyrics to them isn't always easy. that whole thing about originality and expression applies here too—everything has been said in every way, and it's hard to find a way to express what i'm trying to say in a...i dunno, a meaningful way, an impactful way, y'know?"

"yes, i understand. the ineptitude of human language strikes again," you mused. "just like the modernists said."

kai went quiet, and you could see the gears turning in his head as the understanding dawned on him. "yeah...yeah, yes, exactly!" kai exclaimed excitedly. you smiled fondly.

"see, you got it! but yeah, i'd imagine lyrics are hard. i mean, just writing in general is hard, especially stuff like poetry."

"do you write?"

"mmm, sometimes! less than i used to—mostly just sporadic things typed into my phone at ungodly hours of the night when i just...need to get the feelings out. my poor notes app has seen lifetimes, it's a war zone in there," you laughed.

"makes sense! that's usually when i do my lyrics too, but more often than not, that's when i start producing. it's like as soon as the feeling hits me, the melody...just manifests in my head, and i have make it right then," kai responded eagerly.

you had completely lost track of the time, enraptured by the conversations, barely even registering when you pulled into the parking lot of the coffee shop. as the first notes of the final track on the album began to play, you moved to undo your seatbelt and get out of the car, but kai's hand on your wrist stopped you.

"wait, can we...can we listen to this one first?" he asked, seemingly shocked at his own actions, familiar blush becoming visible once more.

"yeah."

your voice was barely above a whisper, and you almost couldn't tell if you had said the words aloud. all your attention was focused on where kai's hand met yours, sending electricity through your entire body. when his hand finally moved from your wrist, you couldn't ignore the empty disappointment that settled in your chest.

this was the opposite of whatever you had felt in that classroom, or in any bar. it was like the world had disappeared, dissolved by the rain, the only remnants of it the sound of the downpour and the song playing softly from the speakers. as you watched kai as he listened to the music, you thought he looked almost worshipful, eyes closed and lips parted slightly, smile tugging at the corner of his mouth, his hands once again playing invisible keys—in those moments, it truly felt like you were the only two people in the world.

this intimacy, the feeling of being alone with another person, it was almost suffocating—in the best way. like your lungs were full of energy that begged to be released instead of being choked by panic.

and though all you were doing was sitting in a car with a boy you had barely become friends with, listening to an old album on a shitty stereo, as surely thousands had done before you and thousands would after, it felt sacred—like it was an experience only you and kai could share.

the song began to fade out, and kai turned, opening his eyes and holding your gaze. starry, glimmering eyes—they held galaxies, universes. the feeling when you looked into them was a sensation not unlike vertigo; the force of it could've knocked you over had you been standing.

"we're here," kai murmured.

"yeah," you breathed.

"we should...go inside," he whispered again.

"yeah," you echoed, as if it was the only thing you knew how to say. he was the first to break the eye contact, nodding and giving a small smile as he turned off the car and opened the door.

everything rematerialized around you; the cars, the bustle, the people—the moment was over, and suddenly you were once again surrounded by the crushing weight of the world around you.

•••

it was a coincidence that kai happened to be playing at the bar you were going to. or, at least it was enough of a coincidence that you could convince yourself it was just a coincidence.

fall break had finally rolled around, and you had at last gotten into the swing of things, your grades were comfortable, mostly thanks to your study sessions with hueningkai that happened roughly twice a week—which you didn't want to admit were becoming more and more difficult to focus in.

predictably, beomgyu had insisted the two of you go out to celebrate the break.

"but it's for a good reason! to like....celebrate making it this far and stuff!" he whined at you from your doorway.

"don't give me that, you will take any excuse to get wasted, gyu," you answered, sprawled on your bed as you scrolled through your phone.

"that is not true, and i am offended that you would insinuate such a thing. on an unrelated note, pretty please can we go out tonight?"

you scoffed and rolled your eyes at his antics. truth be told, it's not like you were opposed to it—you'd probably appreciate the change in scenery from your less-than-impressive dorm room. you just didn't really want to go to the same three bars with the same six regulars and same four bands that play.

"fine, fine. since you have no other friends to bother, i'll be generous. but i pick the place," you added, ignoring the indignant, "hey!" from beomgyu. you were already scrolling through search results on your phone.

no. no. too small. too fancy. been there. been there. hate that one. you sighed, losing hope that there would be any new sights for you tonight, only shitty LEDS, chipped counters, and traffic lights.

it was then that you saw a new name on the familiar list of bars. 'divine machine', five miles away, in the heart of town.

"hm, that's new," you mumbled to yourself. you clicked through the links provided—the pictures of the inside looked extremely promising, though you didn't want to get your hopes up too much only to be tricked by good camerawork.

one of the links led you to the bar's instagram page. it was new, having just opened about two weeks ago. most of the posts were pictures of the inside, the stage, the bar—it seemed to be a metal or rock concert themed bar, which piqued your interest a lot. one of the posts was in the style of an 80's flyer that you would see advertising a band. 'new talent every night!' it read. 'come to divine machine to see stars be born!'

it was the picture that sold it for you. you'd recognize that piercing gaze and that blue-grey hair anywhere. hueningkai was the cover of the flyer, seemingly mid-performance—hands poised perfectly on the frets, hair tousled, in the throes of whatever song he had been captured performing. trying to ignore the way your heart leaped in your chest, you offered your phone to beomgyu, hopefully looking nonchalant.

"what about this one?" you asked. "it's new."

"ooh, exciting! yeah, sounds good!"

"you don't care where we go as long as there's alcohol, right?"

"i'm going to stop inviting you if you keep being mean to me."

"you'd be going out alone."

"that is irrelevant and untrue."

you found yourself at the entrance of 'divine machine' three hours later, still trying to convince yourself that you were not hoping to see kai perform again. he's just talented, you told yourself. i appreciate good musicianship.

immediately, you were much more impressed with this bar than any of the others. the photos didn't lie—the place was spacious and clean, boasting a large stage near the front of the room, decked out like a rock concert with speakers and microphones and scary-looking instruments, prop black leather jackets hanging off some of the speakers and spotlights of all colors pointed in different directions. posters of bands—some familiar, some obscure, lined the walls, along with a selection of guitars that appeared to have signatures on them. the haze from the smoke machine was tinted blue-purple from the lights overhead—it was well-lit, you had to give them that.

"this is pretty promising," you whispered to beomgyu, who you knew was only half-listening as he read the drinks on the menu.

it was early on in the night—well, as early as early could be for a bar, only about 8:30p.m.—but groups of people were already filtering in and mingling. you felt the familiar grip of anxiety on your chest, subconsciously shrinking back into the bar.

beomgyu noticed immediately, drinks forgotten as he looked at you worriedly.

"hey, if you don't want to do this, we can go home. i know this isn't easy for you," he began, reaching for his bag that he had set on a barstool. you shook your head probably a little too quickly.

"no, i'm—i'm okay," you managed to get out. "sorry. i'll be fine, just takes some getting used to, don't worry."

"don't be sorry! it's okay. the offer still stands, whenever you're ready to go we'll go, okay?" gyu said, taking you by the shoulders. you felt your heart grow warm at your best friend's sincerity.

you had met beomgyu your sophomore year at college, having a statistics class with him and sharing a desk. the trauma of that class had bonded the two of you for life. your friendship had grown closer over the next two years, your juxtaposed dispositions balancing each other out well. and though gyu was a troublemaker and a tease, he was nothing if not caring. he knew when to stop and always knew how to make you feel more comfortable.

"okay. don't worry," you repeated, trying to convince yourself more than anything.

"i'm not worrying. it's you who's—well, look who it is!" beomgyu's gaze moved over your shoulder as he waved excitedly at someone behind you. you didn't have to guess who, smile already pulling at the corners of your mouth, and heart rate picking up as you turned around to see kai approaching the two of you.

he looked similar to the first time you had seen him perform, if not more decked out in his rocker attire. ripped black jeans with chains falling from the belt loops, combat boots, studded bracelets and silver rings, a black muscle tee, and the same leather battle vest that you noticed had more patches added since last time.

honestly, it's a wonder you noticed any details at all; you were mentally cursing yourself as you tried and failed to divert your attention from kai's arms, the conversation him and gyu were having entirely lost upon you. he's stronger than he looks, i suppose, you thought to yourself. i don't think i've ever seen him not in a t-shirt or hoodie.

your half-hearted attempts at convincing yourself that you were staring out of shock, not awe, were cut short by beomgyu shoving your shoulder slightly, snapping you from your thoughts.

"quit spacing out over there, are you even listening?" he asked, rolling his eyes dramatically, earning a snicker from kai. you felt your face flush as you forced your eyes to the floor.

"as i was saying, kai, you should let us visit backstage after your performance! we should get VIP treatment, i did give you my phone charger three days ago," gyu stated matter-of-factly. "and this," he pulled you close to him by the shoulders, "is my plus-one."

"i'll consider it," he laughed.

"don't worry about it if it's too much, you don't have to listen to him, he's dramatic." you cut your eyes at beomgyu at the last comment, and he stuck his tongue out in return.

"no, no, it's fine! i wouldn't mind at all! but, i've gotta run guys, have to go get set up and all," kai said, motioning to the stage and beginning to back towards it.

"don't let us keep you, rockstar. break a leg!" you smiled brightly at kai, who started at the nickname before smiling back, waving and turning towards the stage.

once kai was out of earshot, beomgyu whipped around towards you with a ferocity that made you jump slightly.

"and what the hell was that?!"

"jesus christ, what is wrong with—"

"nono, i asked first."

"i have no idea what you're talking about."

"you gave him a nickname," beomgyu said incredulously. "you don't even call me a nickname."

"and i am not starting now," you said through gritted teeth, blush hopefully hidden by the hazy lighting. "it was a one-time-joke thing, nothing interesting. let's go, we can't get close to the stage if we don't hurry."

and hurry you did, despite beomgyu's teasing, earning yourselves pretty decent spots in the crowd. you sipped water this time, hoping your nerves weren't too visible.

eventually, scattered applause broke you from your conversation with beomgyu, and you turned to see kai walking out on stage.

"hi, guys—i'm kai," kai said. you gave a small cheer, clapping softly. kai gave you a knowing smile before continuing, the sudden confidence flustering you a bit. "i'm going to be playing some music for you guys. i don't have a bunch of original stuff, but i have some pretty great covers lined up, alright?"

scattered cheers resounded throughout the crowd, and kai prepared to play the first song. you recognized the intro immediately, and couldn't help but give an incredulous laugh.

"this is pierce the veil!" you said excitedly to beomgyu.

"huhwhat?" beomgyu asked, attention torn away from the beverage he was nursing.

"he's playing pierce the veil! it's 'the new national anthem', from 'selfish machines'!"

"you like them right? those are the ones you n'your friend like?" beomgyu's voice already slurred slightly, even though he couldn't have had more than two drinks already.

"yeah!" you giggled, cheering for kai as he played. you couldn't help but wonder if he did that because of you.

once again, you found yourself hypnotized by kai's performance. all of his nerves and endearing awkwardness seemed to have dissolved, leaving behind a passionate and practiced musician. you were again struck with just how confident and right he looked on that stage, and felt a wave of sadness remembering your conversation in the library.

you couldn't believe he didn't think he was good enough. you thought he was everything.

after a few more covers and a few originals (your favorite of which you think was called "growing pain"), you found yourself being dragged by a tipsy beomgyu behind the stage and into the dressing room where kai waited.

"bro, that was a-mazing, you're so, jus' so talented," beomgyu declared, throwing his arms around kai who tried fervently to push him off.

"do not touch me, i am so warm, please go away—choi beomgyu, if you get sick on me, so help me god, i will kill you," kai laughed. you shook your head, rolling your eyes and laughing as well.

"have some mercy on him kai, he's a lightweight," you said with a tone of mock pity, which beomgyu stuck his tongue out at.

"m'not a lightweight. i'm fine, i'm literally normal," he began, trying to walk in a straight line to prove his point, only to crash down onto one of the sofas, only causing you and kai to laugh more.

"this is bullying..."

"this is the consequences of your own actions," you corrected.

you and kai sat down on the sofa opposite beomgyu, kai sprawling out with his head tilted back, exhausted. you noted how much more confident he looked, the adrenaline of performing still coursing through him, the stage persona not fully faded away.

"that really was amazing. you played pierce the veil!" you exclaimed.

"yeah, i did! i learned that song ages ago, but i guess i only recently remembered it."

"i was excited! and i liked the originals too, of course—'growing pain', i think you called it, just absolutely fantastic. i loved the whole thing," you gushed, feeling slightly embarrassed at how excited you were.

"i'm glad, i appreciate it. wow, not even a professional and i've already got a fanbase," he teased. you rolled your eyes, punching him in the arm.

"shut up. you have no such thing. i just recognize talent when i see it," you quipped, hoping the sarcasm in your voice hid your shyness.

"whatever you say—but i mean, coming to all my shows, meeting me backstage...from where i stand, you look like a regular groupie." his voice was teasing and bold, more playful—no, flirtatious—than you were used to. it stopped you cold.

not quite cold—you were very warm, actually. you realized with shame how the words had made your stomach flip, your heart stuttering at the tone. heat crept through your face as you attempted to form a response. the words wouldn't come, your eyes blown wide, mouth opening and closing with no sound.

kai seemed stunned by his own words, blush tinting his face too. you held his gaze, unable to look away from his eyes. they were wide with embarrassment, still bright from adrenaline, the embers of that playful boldness still not fully gone out. you saw it again, that soft glow in them, and you wondered what it was he could be thinking about.

"ew, oh my god, get a room," beomgyu whined from where he sprawled dramatically on the couch. the moment was over, the both of you suddenly remembering where you were. you both glared at beomgyu, each grumbling some form of "shut up".

beomgyu held his hands up in mock surrender, slouching back down onto the couch and closing his eyes. you shot a glance at kai, sharing a sly smile with him when he met your gaze.

again, you couldn't shake that feeling when he looked at you—that you were the only two people on earth.

•••

this was the last thing you needed during finals season.

you had wondered how long it was going to take before you cracked under the stress of it all, and that time had finally come, at the worst possible time.

it had been a straight twenty-eight hours of no sleep—twenty-eight head-pounding, jittery, exhausting hours spent poring over books that had stopped looking like words about four hours ago. your laptop's search-engine screen seemed burned into the back of your eyelids, assignments and deadlines swimming before your burning, red-rimmed eyes.

you felt like hell. not just physically, but emotionally too. every time you left your room, you could feel millions of eyes on you, a building, pulsing sense of dread that crawled its way from your stomach to your lungs to your throat, choking even basic conversations to shaky one-word answers.

it was raining again, that december day; the world outside tinted blue and grey with winter. it was like the weather couldn't put forth the effort to be bright either. hueningkai sat across from you, as he always did, once again looking about as disheveled as you. his hair had faded to a dull blue with black roots, much longer than it had been when you had first met him.

you turned your attention back to your own essay assignment, words fading in and out of focus on your laptop screen. essays were usually easy—but having to do four in the span of two days was beginning to take its toll. you heard a sigh from in front of you as kai leaned back in his chair, running his hands through his hair in frustration.

"hmm?" you hummed quizzically.

"i can't even see straight anymore, i'm so tired. i feel like i've been at this one assignment for years," he groaned.

you nodded in agreement, rubbing your own eyes to hopefully clear some of the blur, the throbbing in your head becoming worse by the second. "i feel you."

"i feel like im suffocating in here, don't you feel...choked, in a space like this?"

you hummed again, only half-listening, trying to focus your attention on the assignment at hand and not the knife in your head. you preferred the library to anywhere else, especially now, seeing as being around and talking to people seemed to be getting harder and harder.

"you can go somewhere else if you'd like, if it'll help you study better."

"we could go—"

"i told you already, i cannot go to 'divine machine'. i—i know it's not busy hours, i cannot go, i'm sorry."

kai seemed taken aback by your sharp words. he was right, you were starting to feel choked in the dusty study room, surrounded by the pounding in your head and the awareness of another person's presence.

the shame was upon you all at once, both at having snapped like that, and of having another person see you this way—especially someone you genuinely liked. the fluorescent lights above suddenly became glaringly bright, humming with previously unnoticed electricity. you became aware of your clothes, how they didn't feel clean, how your hair wasn't clean and stuck to your scalp, how your body ached from stagnation, how everything around you suddenly felt wrong—too bright, too close, too loud.

dread is cold. dread is a heavy, oozing thing that sits in your stomach and slowly infects you. panic? panic is hot. you can feel the way the flames of it flare and writhe their way into every part of your body. hands, arms, stomach, chest, throat, eyes, face—all burning with the shame of being perceived. you can feel every nerve ending in your body and everything it is interacting with, all sound drowned out by the blood throbbing in your head.

kai gave a small scoff, shrugging his shoulders and returning his gaze back to his assignment. "yeah, no, it's fine, i get it. people are scary."

and you knew he didn't mean it like that. but that was all it took. you shoved yourself back from the desk, grabbing your things and storming out the door, the only thing on your mind getting somewhere dark and quiet—somewhere with no people. your throat burned and tears dripped down your face, blurring your already-foggy vision. you stumbled towards the library door, finding it harder and harder to breathe. you didn't even hear kai calling after you.

everywhere you looked, everywhere you turned, there were people. people, people everywhere—you couldn't escape them. countless eyes focused on you, more than would even be possible, but you could feel it. the whole world was watching you fall apart, watching you ruin a friendship you tried so hard to build. he can see me, i'm embarrassing myself, was all you could think. he thinks i'm stupid. this is stupid. he thinks i'm embarrassing. this is embarrassing. i'm an embarrassment. why would he ever want me? even if he did, i am scaring him away, i'm too much, i have to leave, i'm too much, i have to get out, it's too much, too much, too—

and suddenly you were outside, the cold december rain sending a shock through your system. you took a deep, ragged inhale, the shock from the cold allowing a moment of clarity. as you slowly staggered to your dorm hall (you had the fleeting thought of how grateful you were to live so close by), the embers of shame still hot within your chest, you thought of kai.

you opened the door to your room. you thought of kai. you gently closed it behind you. no one was home but you. you were completely alone, in a dark and quiet room. you thought of kai. you slid down the back of the door, knees to your chest as the tears came once more. you thought of kai. kai who you desperately wanted to see you in a good light, who you wanted to be different for, who you put yourself out there for, who you had fallen for.

you thought of his hair falling into his eyes as he played guitar, you thought of the way his brows furrowed in concentration, you thought of his loud, goofy laugh, you thought of his hands and their inaudible melodies.

you thought of how sure of himself he had looked on stage at 'divine machine', like he belonged on the stage in front of all those people. you thought of how pathetic you felt, knowing that now he knew. you had tried so hard, but now he knew that you couldn't even handle a library.

when the first knock came at the door, it was so soft that you thought you might've imagined it. you remained slumped against the door, tears gone but eyes still burning. then it came again, more frantic this time.

"hey, are you in there? it—it's me, it's kai." his voice was muffled behind the door, but you could still hear that he sounded shaky and slightly out of breath.

"i'm here."

"can i...come in?"

"no."

"...can i ask why?"

you sniffled, wiping your eyes and trying to smooth down your hair. "i look terrible."

"i mean, if it makes you feel any better, i look like they just dredged me out of the ocean."

you scoffed a little at that, smiling despite yourself.

"i'm sorry for what i said. i didn't mean it that way, but i still shouldn't have said it. it's not fair to you," kai said after a beat of silence.

"no, no, i get it. i know you didn't mean it, i'm sorry for freaking out, i should've reacted better, i'm just—i am really, really stressed, and it, like, all crashed down on me at once, a-and—"

"it's okay. you don't have to be sorry, i'm not upset at you or anything—you can't help it."

"i just...i feel like i should be able to help it, y'know? i've lived with it for this long, i should be able to cope with this stuff." your voice shook with frustration, new tears threatening to fall.

"i understand. i really do, i know it doesn't," there was a pause like he was reconsidering, and you had the mental image of him dragging a hand through his hair. "it doesn't seem like i do. but...whenever i perform, like onstage—the minute and a half before i begin to play is the scariest moment. i can feel everyone's eyes on me, the weight of their expectations is so...so overwhelming, it gets hard to breathe. for that minute and a half, every bad thing i've ever believed about myself becomes true, and it feels like everyone can see it," kai's voice shook slightly with the confession, and you wondered if this is the first time he's ever told anyone this. "no matter how many times i perform, that initial fear will always be there."

"you seem so sure of yourself up there. when you begin to play, i mean. it's like you were...made to perform, or something," you murmured, half-hoping he didn't hear you.

"it's all practice. and it's because i love it. it's like you, when you explain literature or writing stuff—it's like the nerves melt away. the joy comes back, y'know? the thing you're doing it for, it overrides the fear. it doesn't mean the fear isn't still there, but it isn't as overpowering."

there was a silence again, longer this time.

"i wanted to write. did i ever tell you that?" you began. "i want to teach, sure—i mean, i love explaining things, but truly what i always wanted to do was write. but i couldn't get over the fear. i could not stand the idea of people...thinking about me. perceiving me in a way i couldn't control, i guess? it used to keep me up at night, honestly. at least in a classroom, i know what i'm doing is for the greater good—whether the students like me or not. but writing? i guess i just—"

"don't feel like you're good enough, so you chose the safer option?"

the silence that followed spoke volumes—lifetimes of dreams crushed by the realities of life and survival.

"can you please let me in? please?" it was spoken so softly, but the gentleness with which it was said nearly brought you to tears again. slowly, you pushed yourself from the floor.

you met his eyes as the door swung open—wide and glimmering as they always were, and he looked as though he had been crying as well. there were a few seconds of tense silence, and the world seemed to stop and hold its breath. kai's mouth was open slightly, like he was trying to find words to say. you broke the silence first, your eyes remaining locked on his.

"i'm sorry to make you come all this way in the rain, you really didn't—"

before you could finish your sentence, kai was through the doorway, wrapping you in his arms tightly. you froze, unsure of how to react.

the feeling was there again, the same as it was in the car back in october—there with him, you were the only two people on earth. you slowly relaxed, reaching your arms around to hug him back, burying your face into his shoulder. he's so tall, you thought.

"thank you," you whispered. kai just nodded in affirmation, fingers unconsciously grazing up and down your back soothingly. you had the fleeting thought that it was like he was playing guitar.

"you're really cold. and wet," you whispered again. you felt his soft laughter reverberate through him, making you smile into the crook of his neck.

"that's on you for making me trek all this way, in the rain, in december."

"you didn't have to follow me, you cannot put that on me."

"and what was i gonna do, just leave you?"

you went quiet at that, realizing that's exactly what you expected him to do. that's what you'd expected of everyone your whole life. you truly felt as though if you didn't constantly have it under control, people would see you and know. you weren't quite sure what they would know, but they would know, and they would see you differently forever. you didn't respond, only held kai a little tighter.

"it's really dark in here. cold too. do...you maybe want to go back to my place and get warm?" kai's voice was hesitant, like the gravity of the words hindered them from being spoken.

after what felt like an eternal silence, you nodded slowly.

"yeah."

•••

it was exactly what you thought it would look like.

posters and pictures lined the walls of hueningkai's room, pops of sharp color and vivacity along an almost-black navy blue wall. you felt a smile forming on your face at the plushies—honestly an unprecedented amount of them. the room was was a bit smaller than you had expected, but cozy in a way. the curtains had been pulled back and the blinds open to let in as much natural light as possible—which wasn't a lot at the moment because of the rain.

it was kind of messy, like the rest of the apartment—a fact you only remembered when upon arrival, you were met with the same bike in the kitchen you had seen four months ago. papers that looked to be sheet music were scattered across his desk and bed, some printed, some seemingly hand drawn staffs and notes. kai turned pink at this, immediately attempting to collect and reorganize, muttering apologies all the while.

what really interested you were the instruments. you noticed the guitar immediately, a sight familiar from watching kai's performances. he also, you noticed, had a bass guitar, a computer set up with a mic—and all the way in the corner, a keyboard. you almost laughed aloud.

"what is it?" kai asked.

"nothing, nothing, i just...i dunno, i knew you played piano. i just knew it," you chuckled.

"and how could you have known that?"

"maybe i'm psychic."

"or something like that."

you picked up one of the closest plushies to you and threw it at kai's head.

"okay, ouch. i chase after you in the rain, take you back to my apartment, offer you shelter, and this is the thanks i get?"

"will you just go shower—before i throw another one at you," you threatened, giggling. kai rolled his eyes at you once more before ducking into the hall. you settled down on the floor, not wanting to mess up the bed; you were still slightly damp from the storm outside. you leaned against a bedpost, taking in everything around you. it was so...him. it was slightly messy, but warm, cozy—with vibrant bursts of life.

you noticed kai had dropped one of the music sheets in his fervor to clean them. so—glancing at the closed door—you began to read it.

from what you could tell, this part was written for a guitar—which, you felt as though you should've gotten an award for understanding anything about it at all, all that studying did something. you were impressed with kai's dedication; he had drawn everything out himself, including the staffs and markings.

as you were poring over this paper, trying to mentally sound out what the song sounded like, you heard the doorknob turn. you quickly shoved the paper off to the side, trying to look as nonchalant as possible.

"your turn," kai called, slicking his wet hair out of his face.

"mhm," you replied, trying not to stare as you grabbed the clothes you brought from your dorm and headed for the bathroom.

•••

you left the shower feeling lighter than before, the world seeming less horrible when you were clean and warm. you took a deep breath in, and felt your heart skip as you realized that you smelled like kai. you had brought clothes, but not your shower things, so you had to settle for his.

as you approached kai's bedroom door, you stopped just before turning the handle. you could hear noise from inside, something that sounded like a guitar.

you knew you probably shouldn't eavesdrop. you knew music was very important to kai, so listening to him compose and practice felt...invasive?

the song was familiar, and after a few moments you realized that it was the song from the paper you had found. you felt a fleeting burst of pride that what you had sounded out in your head hadn't been too obscenely far off, but that was quickly forgotten.

it was a beautiful song, even though you could only hear one instrument's part. it was slower than the other things you had heard him perform. if you strained, you could hear kai humming the beginnings of a melody over his playing—and every once in a while, it would stop, the sound of pencil scratching paper and kai talking to himself replacing it.

eventually, the guilt of eavesdropping won, and you knocked on the door to announce your presence.

"feel any better?" kai asked, moving the guitar and music off of the bed.

"much. the world doesn't suck as bad when you're clean and warm. i'm just very—" your sentence was broken by a yawn,"—sorry, very tired," you finished.

"well, rest here. you're welcome to take a nap," kai said, half-smiling.

you gave him a sleepy, half-lidded smile as you sat down beside him. "i heard you playing when i got out," you confessed eventually.

kai laughed and shook his head, embarrassed.

"ah, i see. hopefully i didn't sound too crazy, i tend to talk to myself."

"only a little crazy," you giggled. a hush fell over the room, the only sound the muffled tapping of the rain on the roof. eventually, you asked in a quiet voice: "what's the one you were playing? what's it called?"

kai looked slightly wary—this was obviously something he didn't talk with a lot of people about. you supposed people are difficult, no matter who you are.

"if you don't want to tell me, then that's okay too—"

"no, no, i was just stunned," kai answered quickly. "it's called 'dreamer'."

"when'd you write it? and...why, if you don't mind me asking?" at that, kai's expression turned a bit more solemn.

"i wrote it in november, when i had an argument with someone in family over wanting to do music as a job. she said it was stupid, pointless—it's not a real job, that i couldn't make anything or go anywhere from it," he said, brows furrowed in distaste at the memory. "this one feels like...i dunno, being trapped between being a kid and an adult—being expected to make something of yourself but wanting to preserve the dreams you had for your life."

you nodded along slowly, knowing the feeling all too well. you'd been told the same thing all your life—that writing would never get anywhere, that it wasn't a stable career, that you couldn't handle it. eventually, you began to believe it.

"will you play it for me?" it was out of your mouth before you could think about it, the sound barely louder than the rain outside. "only if you want to," you added quickly.

kai looked at you, expression a mix of nervous and content, and gave u a small nod and a half-smile before picking up his guitar.

you closed your eyes as he began to play. the world outside was nothing but distant memory, the only things real to you right now were the smell of kai's room, the rain on the windows, and the sound of guitar that floated throughout the room.

kai hummed that melody over his playing again, more confidently this time. you swayed, exhaustion hitting you like a wave as you relaxed for the first time in probably a month. you breathed out a sigh of content, resting against kai's shoulder.

all at once the playing stopped. after a few moments, you opened your eyes and turned to see kai, hands still positioned on the guitar frets, but music long forgotten as your eyes met his. you saw it again, the glimmer in them. you wanted nothing more than to fall into them, fall through their shifting hues and constellations forever.

the silence was tense, all noise drowned out by your own heartbeat as you held kai's gaze. slowly, cautiously, kai closed the space between the two of you, softly brushing his lips to yours before pulling away a bit and locking eyes with you again.

"was that okay?"

"yeah."

"...can i—"

"yeah, yeah."

you closed the gap this time, four and a half months of built-up tension suddenly released as you kissed him, hands slowly sliding up his shoulders to pull him closer to you. kai sighed shakily into the kiss in something almost like relief, one arm wrapping around your waist and the other hand resting lightly on the back of your head—like he was asking for permission to bring you closer still.

memories of the last four months—the first time you saw him play, whispering in classrooms, days spent in the library, nights spent looking up at him admiringly from below a stage, they all swam in your head.

for the first time, kai's hands were inexperienced and hesitant, unsure of where to go and what to do. pulling away from the kiss slightly, you rested your hands on top of his—moving the fingers of one to slide up into your hair, and moving the other to rest between your shoulder blades, where you began to feel the familiar rhythm of his fingers playing their inaudible melodies—slower this time, almost soothingly as your lips met his once more.

you couldn't think of anything else but him—he was all you could see, could hear, could smell; fragments of poems wrote themselves and dissolved as at last the two of you pulled away, the only sound your shaky breathing. you rested your forehead against his, eyes closed, slight smile on your face, and you had the notion that you could've written novels, volumes—all the beautiful prose in the world could not have described the way you felt at that moment with him.

•••

you were grateful for the reprieve from the the scorching may heat as you ducked into the cool, dark building. even though the sun was setting, it was still uncomfortably warm, humidity that spoke of rain to come making the air sticky and heavy.

you smiled slightly at the crowd that had gathered, though the show was still fifteen minutes from starting. kai had garnered a lot of fans in the last few months, and you felt your heart swell with pride at your boyfriend's success.

for the first time in—well, maybe ever, you were at 'divine machine' alone. beomgyu had other plans tonight, and usually that meant a night in for you—but you really wanted to see kai's performance.

you knew the fear was still there. it ebbed and flowed, crescendoed and subsided in your head. you admit it had improved, but you knew it would always be there. it not controlling you was enough, and you took an ironic kind of comfort in knowing that you weren't ever alone, and that you had people to help you—that not everyone was against you.

the lights began to dim, and scattered cheers rippled throughout the audience, growing louder as you saw kai walk on stage and wave at the audience. you couldn't help the smile that spread across your face.

he'd changed a good bit in the months since you'd met him. his once blue-grey hair was now jet black, and had grown out to his shoulders. half of it was thrown haphazardly in a bun, and his bangs fell into his eyes as he adjusted the mic stand. you noted he didn't have to do it as much anymore—being a regular performer does have its perks.

kai was broader, and somehow looked even taller. you imagined it was the confidence he had built over months of performing. he gave his familiar half-smile at the audience, and you could've fallen in love all over again.

"hi, guys! if you don't know me already, i'm kai. i'm gonna be playing some music for you guys tonight, alright?" as he spoke, he plugged the amp into his guitar, the feedback crackling through the room. "it's mostly originals, but there'll be some covers thrown in too."

you could never get tired of watching kai play. the way he put every fiber of his being into the music—he became it. your eyes settled again on his hands, somehow more confident and at home than they had ever looked. his voice carried through the room, filled it, leaving no space for the troubles or tribulations of whatever was outside the double doors.

you had begun to memorize his setlists, but sometimes he surprised you. after his usual four original songs, kai pulled a chair to the front of the stage, lowering the mic stand and sitting down. he made eye contact with you from across the stage, and you furrowed your brows questioningly. he just winked, gave you a small grin, and began to talk into the mic.

"i've only got two songs left, an original and a cover. this one is called 'dreamer', and i'd be remiss if i didn't give credit where it's due. this song and its lyrics wouldn't exist without someone very important to me, and i want them to know that i wouldn't be here performing if they had not given me the inspiration to." kai gazed at you lovingly from where he sat, and tears sprung to your eyes at the confession.

"the next is not as well-known. i haven't played it before, but i couldn't do 'dreamer' and not play this one, too. it's called 'kissing in cars', by pierce the veil."

you thought back to the memories made over the last nine months as he began to play. from meeting him, to building a friendship, to falling in love, you looked on every moment—even the bad ones—with fondness and gratitude. the two of you had written 'dreamer' together a month after you had gotten together. it started as you bursting into his apartment as soon as it was daylight, having not slept. the beginnings of the lyrics had come to you in the middle of the night, pulling you out of sleep and demanding to be written down. over the course of two weeks, you had helped him create the song in its entirety. you had seen him play it before, but it still brought you close to tears every time.

as 'dreamer' ended and hueningkai began to play the first notes of 'kissing in cars', it hit you just how lucky you were. it wasn't quite luck—or gratitude, or joy, or sadness, or even just love. you couldn't describe the emotion that now overwhelmed you. it coursed through you, the crowd around you melting away. the only thing you could think about was kai. words came together and broke apart, fragments of lyrics and poems born and destroyed as you searched for a way to describe what you were feeling.

you couldn't. as kai moved into the final chorus, just like back in december, you realized that you couldn't describe it. so many have tried, in so many ways, and you knew it would never be enough. you smiled as the song ended, tears slipping from your eyes as you cheered, trying to express this wonderful, exhilarating, indescribable feeling. you knew there were no words, no music, no art, nothing that could capture what you felt at that moment.

and maybe that is what made it so beautiful.

[adrixivy]

So I saw a comment in this post. Someone wanted to know what attitude Peter is giving after the mission. You ask and I shall deliver‼️

So I said he went loco after waking up. He really did. He knows he can’t skip the debrief because Fury is gonna be a little bitch about it and he doesn’t want to go through that hassle so he walks straight to the meeting table, ignoring everyone’s look or question of concern. Maybe a little nod to Natasha’s look of concern is the most he will acknowledge. Anyone else? Attitude is served with small witty remarks leaving them stunned.

For example!

Tony asking if he’s okay and whether he wants to skip the briefing as he walks by the scowling spider’s side: You okay bud? Why don’t you go rest?

Tony simply backs away quietly when Peter glares at him, not wanting to say anything since Tony purely asked out of care and concern. The least he can do is keep quiet and silently tell the older man he doesn’t want to talk right now. (Spoiler alert, Tony does NOT get the same kindness he has spared to him now)

Sam was walking close behind and scoffs at Peter’s behavior, thinking he’s being more of a brat than he usually is and he actually says it to Bucky who doesn’t comment anything because he knows Peter’s enhanced hearing can hear him so he backs away from Sam. Sam, confused and looks back at Bucky while walking bumps into Peter who doesn’t even move when bumped into yet Sam falls on his butt. The Avengers snickers seeing the scene and when Sam looks back at Peter, he’s met with a small satisfied smirk as the teen walks away. Sam is being held back by Bucky AND Steve.

Then Clint, thinking he can lighten up the mood by wrapping his arm around the teenager’s shoulder alongside with his jokes was flabbergasted when he was thrown to a nearby wall and web covering his mouth in a blink of an eye. The Avengers stare dumbfounded (Thor is the one person going “OHHHH”) at Clint on the floor, barely able to get up and the teenager resting on the ceiling, sitting upside down. He finds it more comfortable than the chairs Shield provides. Clint’s mouth remained webbed shut for two hours because Peter is the only one with the solution.

Fury is obviously displeased with how Peter is acting, not understanding the STRUGGLES a superhero teenager who has school the next day alongside homework like him has. So when Fury is firmly telling him to come down, he simply lizard blinks before dropping a Mbaku on the man. (He spent some time with Shuri in Wakanda and whenever Mbaku was with Okoye, he overheard him always calling her it)

Peter in the most calm but you can tell he’s terribly tired voice: You bald-headed demon, who do nothing of the hard work, should keep your big ass mouth which have nothing useful to say, shut. And what the hell is the point of this?(the debrief) Telling us how we did our job and how much better we can do it next time. There won’t be a next time if you keep this up, because remember, you can never do the things you tell us to do without us.

Fury is silenced. Tony and Thor is cackling, Clint muffled laughter can be heard, Natasha is chuckling, Steve is trying his best to keep his giggles quiet, Sam(reluctantly) and Bucky is clapping and Bruce doesn’t even dare to smile as he nervously eyes the fuming pirate.

Peter huffs and simply gets down and walks away. The Avengers decided that the debrief is basically over within those five minutes and walks out too. Tony goes over to Peter and wrapping his arm around Peter and saying he’s proud but he mentions the glare Peter gave him earlier and Peter pauses and pushes Tony’s arm off

Peter: Being petty about that? As if you didn’t do worse. Taking my suit because you didn’t like it when I basically did the same stupid things you did before you started becoming a little mature as an adult.

Tony’s mouth is wide open, jaw dropped in shock and the Avengers are laughing at him, particularly Sam and Bucky’s being the loudest as Peter walks away and into his room. His own son destroyed him!

The next day, Peter is apologising to everyone profusely, especially to Tony for being so mean. He may gave a little insincere apology to Clint and Sam but it still was an apology. Fury didn’t get one.

[ryoshiwaah]

⋆🐾° Kitties and Kisses ⋆˚࿔

Warnings: established relationship, kisses and nothing else!

Genre: super extra fluff written with a pink glitter keyboard.

Pairing: Kang Haerin x Fem!Reader

Synopsis: Haerin missed you cat more than you, but that doesn't mean your safe from her cute attacks.

Words count: 1.3k

a/n: This is the best work I've done so far since I put a lot of effort into it, I hope you enjoy and tjank you for 30 followers!!! I love you guys soooooooo much 🫶🫶🫶.

Driiin!

The sound of the doorbell rang through the living room, reverberating into the kitchen catching not only your attention but also Yoon’s. The kitty was sleeping next to his bowl, all curled up in a cute ball of fur.

Deciding to put aside your sandwich, leaving it on the counter unsupervised, you walked to the door not wanting to keep your guest waiting.

Once it opened you were met with the sight of your girlfriend, Haerin.

She didn’t give you the time to greet her that her arms were around you - now, she wasn’t the type to show you love through physical contact, but sometimes you’d get “hug-attacked”. 

Naturally, almost like they had a will of their own, your arms wrapped around Haerin giving her body a little squeeze.

“Hi to you too, baby.” You said after a moment of silence.

“Hm, hi.” She hummed, finally looking up to face you.

“How was the photoshoot?” While asking the question you moved your foot enough to push the front door forward, successfully closing it.

You two didn’t pull away from each other, the familiar warmth of the embrace, Haerin’s soft but intense perfume filling your nostrils and the sunlight making her irises look like honey. If you could have framed the moment, you would've done it in a heartbeat.

“Good, but I saw a cat on my way home and decided to come here.” She spoke in a low tone “I missed Yoon.”

A dramatic gasp left your lips, how could your girlfriend come over only to see your cat?!

“Yoon? Not me, your girlfriend of 2 years??” 

The exaggerated, betrayed tone made her let out a giggle and you swore you wanted to drop your act: it didn’t matter how many times you heard the sound, it had a massive choke hold on you – like one of those songs’ intro you hear once and think 'What was I even listening before this?'.

Haerin’s laugh was the intro to your favorite song, her words.

“I come over to see you everyday, don’t you think Yoon is a bit jealous?” She teased, now pulling away to hang her coat on the hanger next to the door.

That sentence made you pout and cross your arms

“Maybe he needs to find a girlfriend and learn to not steal mine.”

“You’re kind enough to share.” She teased again, now making her way to the kitchen. You followed suit, just like a puppy.

“I can share everything but y–” The words stopped in your throat once you reached the room, almost bumping into Haerin as you stopped walking.

“MY SANDWICH!”

The yell made not only your girlfriend, but also your kitty jump. He quickly sprinted away from the crime scene with a slice of ham in his mouth.

“You startled him…And me.” Haerin mumbled but followed you to the counter, a hand on your shoulder.

“Not only did he steal my girlfriend, he even stole my precious sandwich!” Your tone was dramatic but there was really no bite to it. After all, Yoon was your love just as much as Haerin.

“It was a slice of ham, love, I’m sure you can get another.” 

‘Love’. This girl was making you melt with every word spoken, and how her hand was now on your back, caressing it in a reassuring way.

“Goddammit you’re so adorable” You grabbed her cheeks, squishing them. In return the latter grinned, her eyes closing while her cheeks slowly became rosy.

“Yah– Y/n!” She tried to wiggle away but eventually stopped struggling when your lips touched her cheek, the loud ‘mwah’ sound making her smile even more. “Come onnnn, I want a kiss.” You whined, not liking how she presented her cheek when you were about to kiss her.

“You scared Yoon, I can’t forgive you like that.” Haerin said while leaning down to pick up the feline in her arms. “But he ruined my sandwich.” Words that fell to deaf ears because your girlfriend had no intention of letting the mischievous – but absolutely adorable – cat go. She started kissing his head and in that moment you wished of being born a cat, specifically Yoon.

Things got worse when he started purring, capturing Haerin’s heart even more and making you let out a huff of frustration: that little punk was doing it on purpose.

Staring at the pair became boring soon so you just gave up dropping your annoyed attitude. Haerin held Yoon closer to her, sniffing him. 

“He smells good.” She whispered, and thank God you were used to her low tone of voice or else you wouldn’t have been able to hear her. 

“I recently bathed him, not the best day of his life.”

“He smells like you.”

“Huh? Thanks, i guess–”

Her little weird comments never failed to leave you confused and speechless, in a good way.

“That’s me saying you smell good.”

Idiot, how could you not understand?

“Aww, thank you baby. Does that mean I get a kiss?”

“No.” She responded, her eyes now visible behind Yoon’s huge, fluffy face. You noticed how the shape resembled one of a cat’s, actually, her whole behaviour was really feline-like.

The realization that you might have accidentally adopted another cat struck you, making you laugh louder than intended.

“What’s so funny?” Haerin asked with a confused expression, her head tilting ever so slightly. Her inquisitive and intense gaze on your grinning face.

“Sorry, you two looked so alike.” 

“Me and…Yoon?” She looked down at the cat, even more confused at first then she smiled – that pretty, amazing, beautiful, breathtaking, adorable smile.

Nodding, you got closer to the two and gently caressed his fur, the kitty nuzzling your hand purring again. “You stained him with lipstick, Hae.” You scoffed, slightly annoyed since Yoon and water had a bad relationship, you could only imagine the difficulty of cleaning those stains.

“Oh? Sorry.” She apologized, but the mischievous smirk on her lips already told you that she wasn’t sorry at all. Instead of trying to clean the poor cat, she got on her tippy toes and gave your cheek a stolen kiss.

You gasped “Hey!” rubbing the point she kissed while trying to get away from her, your cheek was now red from Haerin’s smeared lipstick. You backed up knowing what awaited you.

“I’m giving you the kiss you wanted.” Your girlfriend laughed, leaving Yoon on the ground. “Now come here.” 

“NO! Leave me alone!” 

You ran away, heavy steps thudding on the tiles of the kitchen, to the wood floor of the living room. Your arms reached for a pillow on the couch to try and protect yourself from your evil girlfriend.

However, it was too late, she wrapped her arms around your hips as she crushed her lips against your face; other than leaving a visible mark, she made you lose your balance and you both fell on the couch which creaked.

You let out a groan, the pillow now abandoned on the floor and used by Yoon as a bed, the little guy was very tiny and very interested into watching your downfall.

Haerin took advantage of your distraction to finally kiss you, first on your lips, then on your nose, forehead, temples – There wasn’t a single inch of your face that wasn’t marked by Haerin’s lipstick.

After what felt like an eternity she pulled back, straddling your lap to admire her handiwork. A hand snaked up to brush away some of your messy hair and you could only look up at her stupidly adorable grinning face.

“Happy now?” You asked, earning a chuckle from the other girl.

“I should be the one asking that, you got all the affection you wanted.”

That was true, even though your face was stained, it felt good to have her kiss you so much and now that it was over you were already yearning for more.

“Hmmmm...” You thought “I think it’s not enough.”

jeanzforfree masterlist

[bau-babes]

Let Your Warm Hands Break Right Through

This entire thing is fan service and I am said fan 😝. I blame my current hyper fixation with Smallville and ovulation week. I hope y’all enjoy!

WARNING:explicit sexual content, not proof read

“So if we carry the one here and make sure to show every step of the equation we should have no problem passing this final exam!” Reader says to Clark as they finally finish their last study question.

“That was literally the longest i’ve ever studied, I don’t even know what time it is.” Clark chuckled and looked down at his watch, his face fell as he realized it was already twelve o’clock at night. “You really should get home Reader it’s already twelve.”

You look to the window to see the expected dark night sky, but what you didn’t expect was the heavy rain fall and wind blowing every which way. “Oh my god! I can’t drive in this! I gotta call my dad I don’t know how i’m gonna get home.”

“It’ll be fine Reader just use the house phone and if I need to drive you I will.” You looked over at Clark and smiled his warm, kind eyes meeting yours. Every memory of your friendship started rushing back to you in that moment, you fought off the urge to hold the eye contact reminding yourself you’ve learned to suppress these feelings long ago and turn to dial your house number. “Hey dad, Clark and I got caught up studying and lost track of time, do you want me to just drive back home or crash here for the night because of the storm? Ok, Ok yeah, alright I’ll see you tomorrow, love you, bye.” Clark studied your mannerisms as you twirled the phone wire in your fingers, feeling his cheeks flush he couldn’t help but imagine what else your fingers have good use for.

“Well, I guess you’re stuck with me for the night Clark!” He chuckled snapping out of the trance you have him in so often lately, no matter what he can’t get every little detail of you out of his head but he knows if he said anything he could ruin your entire friendship. “Oh you know I’d never mind that.” You smirk at the smallest indication of flirting Clark lets slip, dreaming of a world where Clark Kent would even give you the time of day romantically.

“So i’ll sleep on the couch?” In a moment of pure strength and/or stupidity Clark can’t help but blurt out “No! Just sleep in my bed, no big deal i’ll sleep on the floor for the night.”

Your heart skipped a beat hearing those words. Did this mean something? Of course not, he’s your best friend, and come on now he likes girls like Lana, not a girl like you with round cheeks and an even curvier body. “Are you sure Clark? I don’t want to make you sleep on the floor that’s mean!” He takes a step forward and grasps at your shoulders looking at you deeply, a sincere look in his eyes. “I promise, I have no problem with sleeping on the floor, especially if it means you’ll be comfortable.” You smiled dipping your head to the ground unable to look into the blue eyes you knew were following your every movement and reaction. “That’s very sweet Clark, thank you.” “Of course Reader, anything for you.”

Those words rang in your ears, would he do anything for me? Would he if he knew how I really felt?

You both make your way up the stairs climbing each step until you stand inside Clark’s bedroom realizing another of the many dilemmas you’ve had tonight. “Umm… Clark do you have anything I could wear to bed?” your face fell as your mind raced with insecurity, you’ve seen this scene play out so many times, a boy giving the girl he likes clothes to wear that fit her five sizes too big. But that’s not what this is, you’re not that girl for him and his clothes definitely aren’t going to fit you like they would any other girl. “Oh yeah of course hold on a second.” He rummages through his dresser and you catch a glimpse of his biceps as he works his way through each drawer. “This should work.” He holds out his hand which carries a hoodie and plaid pajama pants. You reach for the clothes scared of what the outcome will be, but all of that falls away the second you feel the heat of his hand grazing yours. “Alright turn around Clark.” “yes ma’am”

He stares at the door hearing the shuffling of clothes behind him. He can’t help but let his mind wander to what the sight behind him must be, how beautiful the curves of your body look when they’re not covered by a sweater or a pair of jeans.His mind wanders further through his imagination to what would be underneath everything you’re wearing but he quickly refocuses his attention when he hears your voice from behind him. “Ok Mr.gentleman, you can turn back around.” His eyes rake the image of you in his clothes through his mind, wishing this moment, this entire night, could last forever. “You comfy?” He mentally facepalmed as those words left his mouth Really that’s the best you could think of Clark… “Yeah! Thanks so much again these are really comfortable.” you were so happy, realizing that his tall frame and broad shoulders caused his clothes to run bigger than you would expect, conveniently engulfing your body with a slightly oversized look.

You handed Clark the blanket at the foot of his bed and a pillow and got under the covers. “Good night Clark.” “Good night Reader.” He responded back with the slight twang of want in his voice, like there’s something he wasn’t saying. You flipped the light switch off and tossed and turned for a few minutes as the wind howled and the rain pounded against the window pane. Out of nowhere you see a huge lighting strike and quickly hear the loud thunder that followed, leaving the entire farm in complete darkness. “Shoot the power must of went out from the storm, you doing ok?” Clark said from the floor where he laid next to you. You spoke with a shake in your voice suddenly feeling a chill. “Yeah i’m ok, just feeling cold that’s all.” Clark heard the chatter of your teeth and spoke again. “Yeah the heater probably blew from the storm it’s ok i’ll ask my dad to look at it in the morning.” There was a long beat of silence until you spoke again, contemplating if the comment you were about to make would be too forward. “Clark, i’m cold so you must be freezing on the floor, just come sleep in the bed with me I don’t mind.” He was shocked by your words trying to piece together his own response. “You sure?”

“Of course Clark, you said it yourself you’d do anything for me, I feel the exact same it’s really no big deal.” He stood up and you could see his broad shoulders under the tight t-shirt he was wearing to bed. Scooting over you open the blanket to him and he crawls under placing the pillow under his head and spreading the blanket he had been sleeping with on the floor over both of your bodies. “Sorry it’s a bit of a tight fit.” You said trying to break the awkward silence you had never felt with him before. “it’s just for the night don’t worry too much over it.” Clark spoke so nonchalantly you began to be solidified in the fact he could never feel the same about you. That was however until he spoke again ten minutes later.

Hearing the chattering of your teeth and the slight shake of your body he spoke up. “You know we could cuddle… if you want obviously, I just noticed you were shaking is all, no pressure.” You chuckled to yourself at the dorky Clark you knew peaking back through making all of your nerves over sharing a bed with your crush melt away. “I have to be honest i’ve never cuddled with anyone before, but if it’ll make me warm I don’t mind.” You say lying straight through your teeth, you’ve wanted this for so long your body already begins to heat with anticipation, the thought of Clark’s body pressed against yours already giving you a rush throughout your limbs. He scooted closer and closer to you as you felt your heart rate skyrocket. “Is it ok if I show you how I usually do it?” The statement made you sad knowing that he had done this with other girls before, but you pushed past the thought and spoke up. “yeah, whatever’s comfortable for you, you’re the expert here.” He laughed and opened his arms. “Scoot really close to me, I know you usually like to sleep on your side so this’ll be comfortable,do you want to be the little spoon?” Your face flushed at the comment and you thanked God that the lights had gone out long ago. “Sure…i’ll be the little spoon.” He took your body and guided it next to his placing both of you on your sides, as he did this he pulled you closer almost effortlessly and began to wrap his arm around your body. You sank into the feeling of him pressed so closely to you and became entranced by it until you felt his arm wrap around your waist and fall to your stomach, palm flat against it. “Is everything ok did I make you feel uncomfortable? I could go back to the floor if you want! I-“ “No Clark! It’s fine, I just-“ The room felt silent and Clark spoke again, this time you became hyper aware of how close he was to you, how you could hear him whisper into your ear as he spoke. “Please Reader, you can tell me anything, you know that” He was so anxious thinking he let his emotions get the best of him as he waited for your response. “It’s just-Ididn’twantyoutofeelmystomachok?” It took Clark a moment to make out what you said but his heart broke when he heard you say it. “Reader, can I tell you something?”

The room stood still, Clark’s heart started racing more than he had heard yours race before. He gathered his words knowing there was no taking this back, here goes nothing… “I- I think you’re the most beautiful person i’ve ever met and I know you don’t think about yourself that way but I do everything about you is so perfect to me and I don’t know how you can’t see it everytime I see you I just fall deeper and deeper in love with you and I don’t even know what to do with that at this point but I can’t have you lay here thinking you’re ugly because you’re the farthest thing from it.” He rambled for what felt like an hour to him, but a millisecond to you. You processed everything quickly needing more details, thinking this was some sick dream your mind conjured up. “You love me?” were the only words to fall from your lips. “Of course I do Reader, why else would I insist to study with just you, or make you sleep in my bed, or make sure to give you my favorite pair of pajamas? I’ve loved you for a very long time and I just couldn’t have you thinking I look at you with anything but admiration.”

“Clark, i’ve loved you for so long, I just don’t understand… why me? Why now?” Clark couldn’t believe what you had just said as he kept rambling in response to your questions. “You’re the most amazing person I know, you’re so kind, and smart, and loving, and everything about you from your head to your feet drives me crazy. I just- I couldn’t tell you because I was too scared, but having you here in my bed, feeling you against me, made me realize there was no better moment than right now. And don’t think I forgot what you said by the way, I think you’re the most beautiful woman i’ve ever met and I’m going to prove that to you some way, somehow.” “Oh Clark-“ You spoke but he cut you off as he bluntly said “Can I kiss you? Please-“ The heat rose through your body again stronger and more rapidly as your heart rate rose even more than before. “Yes Clark, please i’ve wanted this for so long” He cupped your cheeks and pulled you towards him, lips slack with his as you felt the warmth of him all over you, the kiss was slow and sensual tasting him and feeling as though you were breathing him in completely. “Can I show you how you make me feel?” Your mind raced as he spoke those words. “Please Clark, it’s all I want.” he couldn’t believe this was real and decided to ride this high for as long as possible. taking your hand with his he traveled it down his body, under the covers, and to the large bulge present in his pants. “Clark I-“ He wined as he spoke “Please Reader you’re all I think about, I need you. You’re so beautiful.”

“Clark- i’ve never- i’ve never done this before. I don’t know what to do-“ He was so close to you and his hand interlocked with yours, “I can show you.” all you could muster up the courage to say was “ Please Clark, I want to learn.” He guided your hand under his boxers moving it up and down his impressive length. “Just move slowly up and down.” You continued the steady motion and then asked, “Please can I take it out I wanna see it.” Clark was engulfed in pleasure as he spoke again “Of course baby, anything you want.” You moved the blanket and his cock sprung from his pajama bottoms, he moved his hand with yours guiding it up and down the shaft. His breath grew shaky and you spoke once again, riding off the high of his pleasure. “Can I- can I lick it?” His eyes widened and head reeled with excitement but he quickly took the situation into account as he spoke to you. “You don’t have to do that, I know a lot of girls think that you have to do that but you don’t, I just want you to be comfortable.” “Clark, I may not have done this before but I know what I want, please let me do this for you.” He grew more shocked and turned on and quickly said “Oh- ok yeah please, taste me baby please” You knew you wouldn’t be able to take him fully in your mouth so you decided to gently start with sucking just the tip.As you did you looked up at him for comfort and approval, you locked eyes with him and let out a chuckle sending his head backwards in an open mouthed moan. “GOD, you don’t know how long i’ve wanted this oh my lord please keep going.” You licked and sucked his cock for a few seconds more but when you decided to lick up the long vein on the under side of his cock he lost it, letting out whimpers of your name as he came in your hand. “OH MY GOD you’re incredible, please kiss me again.” You sat up and began to kiss him more feverishly, mindlessly rocking your hips against his knee, still not sitting fully out of insecurity. He pulled away from the kiss and began to kiss down your neck and he made his way to your ear moving your hair out of the way. He spoke in a deep whisper, a voice you had never heard before slipped from his lips. “come on baby ride my thigh I wanna see the way you make yourself feel good.” He saw the hesitation in your face and pulled farther away for a moment. “Clark I want to, I REALLY want to but I don’t think it’ll be comfortable for you. I’m just too heavy.” He began to get angry now, cursing every bully, magazine, or friend that ever made you feel this way about yourself. “Stop talking like that or i’m gonna have to show you just how sexy you are.”

Your mind raced thinking of the possibilities and a smirk found its way to your lips. “Clark, please show me, I want to know.” He laughed knowing the game you were playing, the witty girl he had known all these years finally peaking through her insecurity and self doubt. He flipped you over effortlessly and you yelped with shock and confusion littering your face. He kissed your lips softly and began raking in the look of your body as he did earlier in the night now finally achieving his long awaited fantasies. He kissed down your body over every part you had commented on over the years, the jaw you said was too soft, the collarbones you were sad never showed, the stomach you thought was too prominent, the legs you always complained never had a gap between eachother, until he reached your mound. He moved even slower now meeting your eyes as he took his time exploring you. “Please Clark-“ You spoke with a moan rising from the depths of your throat. “I know baby, I know just wanna take this slow with you, okay?” You nodded your head furiously waiting for the inevitable next step. He parted your lips with the tips of his fingers still locking eyes with you as he let an exploratory finger find its way inside of you. He began to move his hand back and forth feeling for the soft spongy walls within, looking at every twitch and reaction littered across your face. He then began moving his head closer and closer as you bit your lip with this new found feeling, not knowing what was to come next. He couldn’t resist anymore as he dove into you licking a stripe all the way up to your clit circling it with his tongue as you reveled in the new sensations. He continued his newfound favorite act and looked back into your eyes with mischief you were confused by this but didn’t pay it any mind as you were too engulfed in the new found pleasure.

This was until Clark hugged your legs and flipped you over until you were hovering over his mouth. “I want you to ride my face baby, don’t hold back it’s all i’ve been thinking about lately.” OH so THIS is what he meant when he said he was going to show you how sexy you are. Your mind tried to catch up with your senses but you longed for his tongue on you again. You began to sink down slowly and shyly, scared of hurting him. He began licking into your pussy again until he noticed how far away you were. “If we’re gonna do this then we’re gonna do this right. I already told you that.” He parted your legs even more than they already are and pulled you down onto his mouth by your waist. Your head fell back and any bit of insecurity fell with it. you looked down to see his eyes happier than they had ever been before and you began to unravel your inhibitions, rocking back and forth against his mouth. As you got closer he let go of you with a loud pop lifting you effortlessly as you whined wanting the sensation back again. “Go crazy baby rock into me, use me please I want you to feel good, this is all for you.” He pulled you down once again and started speeding up his movements you began to rock back even more feverishly, focusing on Clark and his eyes closed in his own pleasure you reached forward feeling the build up reach its peak with in your stomach and tangle your fingers in his messy hair, with this he lets out a long moan sending vibrations up your spine and causing the band in your stomach to snap. Catching your breath as you came down from the high you rolled off of him laying under the covers once again. You couldn’t bring yourself to say anything too wrapped up in your own little world. You found your way back to him and cuddled into his chest once again getting comfortable. With a chuckle he spoke out loud “That was one hell of a way to warm up huh?” You laughed hearing this dorky personality shining through the man who just made you fall in love with him all over again. You cleared your throat to speak, “Yeah, we might have to try something else though… I’m starting to feel a little chilly again.”