#but really that scene in Florence is one of my favorites

[hyukascampfire]

OKAYYY FINALLY I GET TO RN THIS. first of all, thank you so much for reading :,) just know that i read this so many times over. this was just the best notif to receive.

MC is also SO me. which means we are TWINSSSSS. i’m around the same age as her, and also just so sad to be letting childhood go. i tried writing that sadness out in MC, and i think the best thing ever is getting multiple messages abt how so many people relate to her. it means we’re all in this together. we’re not alone in our feelings, which is honestly the biggest comfort to me.

COMPLIMENTING MY MUSIC TASTEEE. you are the loml. AND you listened while reading. as intended. i literally could not be happier. i was feeling that playlist while writing🤤

and then you compiled all your favorite quotes here 😭 stop. i am so giddy. those are some of my favorite from the fic as well. especially “you clutch childhood to your chest like a wild animal guarding scarce food; you refuse. you refuse to acknowledge its end.” that one i am so proud of, for how incredibly powerfully it illustrates how i feel about this stage of my life. im glad that the stars aligned and my brain was in the right mood to put that on paper.

and oh my god, if that’s the same erin morgenstern as the night circus, i will absolutely be reading it. ABSOLUTELYYYY.

I LOVE FLORENCE + THE MACHINE. and ALSO dog days. i think our music tastes are lovers. dog days is so so so perfect. thank you so much for reading, kipo. i think you’ve made my whole life with this rb. i’m so deeply in love with the way this story came out. at first, it was just a few bare bones scenes, and it just kept on growing and growing and i really knew i had to see it out. i think it flourished so beautifully:,))

THE BLOCK OF TAGS hell yeah.

ribs playing at the ending and scott street and more than this during the confession oh shuffle had it OUT for you 😭 but i also think those songs at those specific scenes are PERFECT.

and yeah FUCK yeonjun!!! it was tough writing him like that 😕

IM SO PROUD OF THE MOTH SYMBOLISM. i wanted it to feel like, even when kai and MC were lost and confused and apart, they were never really alone, and there were perhaps bigger things at play here. or maybe even the instances of moths appearing were nothing more than coincidence (of course except for at the creek and during the confession). i want to leave it up to the reader to decide that.

OKAY I GOTTA CUT THIS RB OFF because it’s lagging to even type because it’s all so long. i wish i could say more omg i could talk about it forever with you. thank you so much for reading, like really so so so much. T^T

𝑯EART 𝑊ORM ⸺ hueningkai ℘˒´ˎ˗

  ⨾𓍢ִ໋ ˒˒ 𝚑𝔢art𝚠𝔬rm

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

⸺ listen to the playlist .ᐟ ‧˚

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

wc ➛ 17.9k

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

𝒢 ‎; smut ˒ angst ˒ some fantasy

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Can’t things just stay like this? 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I just... don’t know.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

⚝⭒ 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Kai, I wanna go,” you told him. 

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

⚝⭒ 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Ice cream does sound nice. “Dairy Queen?” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

⚝⭒ 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The idea doesn’t sound half bad, though.  

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

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

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

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

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

⚝⭒ 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

⚝⭒ 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What?” Kai says. He looks rattled.  

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

⚝⭒ 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

⚝⭒ 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

⚝⭒ 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

So you do. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

⚝⭒ 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Home. You are home. 

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

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

[honeygrahambitch]

If you look at my profile picture and at the name of my blog you will realize it's the scene after the chase in the catacombs. Hannibal is telling Bedelia about how he felt about seeing him and hearing him say that he forgave him.

And here comes the most not-Hannibal line ever "It was nice, among other things". Now "nice" is the most basic adjective in the world and it doesn't fit the way Hannibal talks. There's no metaphor, no hidden meaning, no need to replay the scene 3 times more to get the dialogue.

And if that wasn't enough, the "among other things" part emphasizes that even more. This is not like him.

Why does he use such basic, humane, mundane words? Cause he is having a hard time trying to figure out what is going on inside his head. Seeing and hearing Will had made him feel one hundred different things that he can't name. He knows it felt good cause he really missed him but he can't really put into words what the encounter had triggered inside him- It was nice. Among other things.

Then he finally admits to himself that he fell in love and that is the reason for his state. And that is shaking his whole being, all the remains of his walls are falling down, his person suit is torn apart at once, il Monstro and the Ripper are both reduced to nothing in front of what Will triggers inside him. And that is sublime.

Cause we get to see the distressed, hurt, troubled Hannibal only when Will hurts him. No one else has this effect on him. This scene, Mizumono, Digestivo.

Will brings out the most human feelings in him. There is no God or Devil behind "It was nice. Among other things". It's just a mortal human being who fell in love and who is shaken to the roots and therefore struggling to understand what is going on.

[mrs-johansson]

Strangers in the night - Scarlett Johansson x Fem!Reader

Part 21:

“That was amazing guys. Let’s do it one more time and we’re all done for the week,” Greta said from behind all the cameras and we all got back to our starting spots. “And action!” She yelled out and everyone was focused on their lines.

Speaking over each other, bumping into each other, working out every little thing that Greta asked for the scene.

“Christopher Columbus, look at that,” I walked in front of the painting, Timothée joining me. “That’s my grandfather. Are you scared of him?” He asked with a calm tone. “No, I’m not scared of anyone. He looks stern, but my grandfather was much more handsome,” I said. “Jo! We do not compare grandfathers,” spoke Laura from behind us and that was our cue to turn around surprised.

***

“When are you coming back?” Asked Flo as she was laying on my hotel room bed while I was packing a bag. “In a week. I won’t be needed for that time anyway,” I said. “Ah that’s a shame, but tell Scarlett happy birthday for me. What did you get her by the way?” She asked while munching away on her dinner. “I made a painting for her because she wanted one for a while now. I got her a bunch of little things, like new sunglasses because she broke her favorite pair, a necklace, stuff like that. And booked us a 5-day vacation between Christmas and New Year’s. I checked with her assistant and she doesn’t have anything booked and Rose will be with her dad, so we’re free to go.” “Aw, that’s nice. Where are you guys going?” “The Maldives. I haven’t had a real vacation all year and neither did she so I think we both deserve it,” I said and Florence nodded with a smile. “Yeah. I can’t believe you guys are going to be together for a year soon. It’s crazy, isn’t it?” She said and I was quick to let the smile loose on my face and think about my relationship. Oh, how I love my girl. “How you were pursuing me to get together with her because we were supposed to do a lesbian drama together?” I smirked and laughed after Flo’s face dropped. “Okay, now that’s not true,” she pointed her finger at me and I spread my arms with a smile. “Well, it worked, didn’t it?”

Hours later Florence was kind enough to drive me to the airport and after a quick goodbye, I was on my way back home, ready to kiss my girlfriend and see little Rose running around my living room.

Rolling my suitcase out with a hat on my head, trying to be very low profile, and find Scarlett quickly. As I exited the building I called Scar, looking around the parking lot. “Hey, are you out yet?” Spoke my girlfriend on the phone. “Yeah, I’m at exit B. Where are you?” I asked and the next second her car pulled up in front of me and the window started rolling down. “I could’ve spotted you from the other side of the parking lot,” she said as she hung up the call and I walked closer to the car. “No, you couldn’t, you can barely see without glasses,” I put my suitcase in the back and jumped into the passenger seat. Scarlett’s hand quickly found mine. “Hi,” I leaned to kiss her cheek, but she made sure that I gave a kiss to her lips also. “Missed you,” I mumbled against her soft skin. Looked from her lips to her eyes and I just fell in love with her eyes again and again. They are so inviting and warm and so seductive the way she could look. “I missed you too. Couldn’t really sleep without you,” she said, making me smile giddily. “Yeah?” Her eyes were just stuck to my lips and I could never get enough of that. She was magnetic, pulling me in with only a look.

But the next moment ruined the vibe very swiftly. Camera flashes lit up the car during the early hours of the New York night. Scarlett let out a heavy sigh before we both settled into our seats and she drove off with a huff. I took hold of her right hand and planted a soft kiss on the back of it. “Relax, baby. Frowning attracts wrinkles,” I said and a small smile pulled on her lips. “What, you’ll leave me once I have wrinkles?” She suggested jokingly and I chuckled while shaking my head. “I will love you and your wrinkles until my last breath, babe. Remember that when you first have wrinkles.”

About a 40-minute drive later we finally pulled up to my house. It was 10 pm already so I was a little tired but I wanted to spend all my time with Scarlett while I was here.

I brought my suitcase up to my room and then rushed down the stairs. Scarlett moved around the kitchen, looking for something edible but to her luck I cleaned out the fridge before I left so I wouldn’t come home to a rotten kitchen.

Quietly snuck up on her and wrapped my arms around her waist and left small kisses on the back of her neck and shoulders. Her hands held onto mine which was secure on her stomach while a light chuckle left her mouth. “What are we gonna eat? There’s nothing here,” she said but I couldn’t really care less about food. “We’ll order something,” I leaned my head against her back, closing my eyes and letting myself soak in the warmth of her body. “You’re very clingy, everything okay?” Scarlett asked rightfully because I’m not always this touchy. “I’m just happy to be home,” I mumbled. “Yet you’re not hugging your couch,” she chuckled but I just turned her in my arms and leaned on her shoulder, nuzzling my face into her neck. “You’re my home, you crazy woman,” I said, her arms wrapping around my shoulders. “I love you with all my heart baby,” said Scarlett then leaving a kiss on the top of my head. “And I love you forever.”

Soon we ordered some food and watched a movie. My choice was Grown ups but I was quickly shut down so we watched Dirty Dancing for the 100 time. I swear Scarlett acts like it’s her first time watching every single time but she’s cute about it so I don’t mind it.

We took a long shower and it was 1 am when we finally got to bed. I basically pulled the cover up to my ears and turned towards Scarlett. She was on her phone, just going through some emails before she put her phone down for good. “How’s the skincare stuff going? Any progress?” I asked and she nodded. “I found a potential business partner, so it’s coming together. If that works out we’ll have a great deal and it should be fine from then,” she explained and closed her phone, putting it on the charger.

Moved her pillow just a little closer to mine then got under the covers, wrapping her arms around me. “This is my favorite moment in the day,” I said with my eyes already closed, snuggling my face closer to her neck. “Yeah, mine too.”

***

Waking up in the morning I was very tired. It was 7 am when my eyes shot open and I couldn’t go back to sleep at all. I looked over at Scarlett to see her still fast asleep, so I got out of bed as gently as possible and pressed a soft kiss on her head before getting dressed and brushing my teeth, getting my hair ready before making my way to the grocery store.

Got enough food for the remaining days of my stay. I thought I’d make some great breakfast for Scarlett’s birthday tomorrow, so I got the ingredients for that. Bought some wine and a couple of candles for my bedroom because I’ve used up all of that was there. After paying I packed everything in the car and made my way home but as I was stuck at a red light, Scarlett’s small picture popped up on the console screen.

“Good morning,” I picked up the call with a small smile. “Where are you? It's 9 in the morning,” Scarlett’s raspy, heavy morning voice rang through the car as I drove on the streets of Manhattan. “I was at the store but I’ll be home in like 10 minutes. Did you sleep okay?” I asked. “Yeah, would’ve been better if you were here but it’s fine.” “Sorry, I just got some food and stuff. I’ll be there soon though.”

Once I got home, Scarlett was already sitting in the kitchen, drinking her coffee. I made breakfast for the two of us then we answered some emails and I approved some of the fresh cuts from Jojo Rabbit.

In the afternoon I made sure everything was set for Scar’s birthday dinner. I asked whether she wanted something smaller with a few close friends or more like a party thing, and to my surprise she asked for the party so I made sure to invite everyone she requested. I still haven’t met a lot of her friends so I was a bit nervous but I was happy to finally meet them.

Rose sadly only arrives on my last day in New York but it’s still better than nothing. So Scarlett suggested we stay home and hang out, rather than going somewhere public.

The next day rolled around quickly and when my eyes opened in the morning I was way too excited. Scarlett was obviously still sleeping so I gently slipped out of bed and made my way to the kitchen. I thought through the whole breakfast that I’d like to make for Scarlett’s birthday. It’s our first birthday together and I just wanted to go all out.

I made the fanciest breakfast I could think of that Scarlett liked. I prepared mimosas with the prettiest cutlery and plates that I had. And by the time I was finished, it was already 10 am so I went upstairs to wake Scarlett up.

She was wrapped up in the covers like it was freezing cold in the room and it obviously wasn’t. The blinds were still closed off, not a single source of light in the room. I got on my knees next to the bed and brushed a piece of hair out of her face, smiling like an idiot. I love this woman with my whole being.

“Scar,” I said softly. Put my hand on her shoulder and brushed along her arm. “Wake up baby,” I tried again then her eyebrows furrowed slightly before she let out a deep sigh. “It's morning already? We just went to sleep,” Scarlett murmured, her voice very deep and raspy. A smile pulled on my lips as she said those words, and even though she didn’t see me yet I nodded. “Yeah, it’s 10 actually. Slept well?” I asked but she still didn’t open her eyes. “Mhm,” Scar pulled the covers off herself a bit and turned to her back. I sat on the edge of the bed, putting a hand on Scarlett’s side to hold myself up. “Happy Birthday baby,” I leaned down to kiss her cheek. “Thank you,” her hand blindly found mine and placed it on her stomach as she kept her eyes closed. “I’ve made breakfast,” I said and she opened one eye, eyebrows furrowed. “Really?” I nodded to her question then she closed her eyes once again making me chuckle. “Get ready, and downstairs,” I left a kiss on her cheek before I got up. “You’re the best,” heard Scarlett say as I walked out of the room. “Just for you, love.”

I already started plating our food when I heard footsteps on the stairs. “Whatever you made, smells good,” Scarlett said as she entered the kitchen before I felt her arm being wrapped around my waist then a kiss on the side of my head. “Here,” I handed her a mimosa and grabbed one for myself. My free hand rested on her shoulder as she patiently waited for my next move. “I love you and I hope everything you wish for will come true. You’re amazing and I’m honored to spend this day with you. I love you. Happy birthday my love,” I said, short and sweet. Leaned in to give her a long kiss, purring all my love into it before Scarlett smiled into the kiss and we pulled away. “I love you and thank you. I wouldn’t want to spend this day with anyone else.”

We sat down at the table and had breakfast in peace. It was a lovely thing really. Very quiet music was playing from the radio in the kitchen and we had light conversations and just soaked in the moment. Scarlett praised my cook all along and I was just happy she liked it. I wanted her to know how much I appreciate and love her, and sometimes my only way with that is food.

“So, first gift, are you ready?” I asked once both of our plates were empty and we had time to relax. Her hand fell off my knee as I stood up and walked behind her to get the painting I made for her. “First? Baby, you really didn’t have to,” she insisted and I just shook my head as I pulled out the wrapped-up canvas. “I didn’t but I did at the same time.”

Got back to the kitchen and stood beside her as she now turned her chair outward and looked up at me. “Please tell me you painted something,” she said with a smile and I just checked before handing it over. “Well, open it,” I shrugged and stood behind her, putting my hands on her shoulders as she ripped the wrapping off then when she saw the popping colors she let out a relieved sigh. “Wow… this is beautiful. I’m still amazed that you can do things like this. Thank you,” she grabbed my hand and planted a kiss on the back of it. “You said you wanted something in the dining room, so I tried to make something that fits in there aesthetically.” “Yes, this is perfect. I love the peaches, it’s amazing.” “I’m glad you like it,” I gave a kiss on the top of her head. She slid the painting away carefully then looked up at me, and pulled me in front of her. “Honestly, I don’t even need anything else,” her smile was everything. Scarlett’s hands were on my thighs, running up and down my skin. “But you will, I thought out everything very well,” I said and she shook her head with a sigh before she pulled me down onto her lap. “I have everything I need right here,” she said gently, although a seductive smile pulled on her lips, and her hands slid up to my bum. I chuckled and shook my head lightly. “Is that a subtle hint for my ass or…” I let the end of the sentence linger and Scarlett just rolled her eyes then put a hand on the back of my head and pulled me down into a kiss.

Her touch was soft but her kiss was passionate and fierce. My hands quickly found their way to her shoulders, before one of them slid to the back of her head, my fingers tangling in her short hair. I pushed myself a little on my tippy toes, and slowly started to grind my hips, kissing her deeply. Scarlett hummed against my lips, her hands sliding around my waist, pushing me down on her lap.

My hands trailed down on her chest, fingers tangling in her hair as she whispered, "I want you." With a smirk, I whispered back, "For what, may I ask?" Scarlett’s eyes sparkled mischievously as she replied, "To make my birthday even sweeter."

I smiled, kissing her soft, plump lips once again. She did not waste any time to take my shirt off, letting it fall by her chair. Her hands eagerly explored every inch of my exposed skin, with her mouth following suit, leaving a trail of kisses and gentle bites.

My breath hitched as I arched into her touch, her fingers digging into my back. My boobs rose and fell with each ragged breath, my eyes darkening with desire as she placed one of my nipples between her lips, causing me to gasp and arch further into her.

Her hands explored every inch of my body, tracing every curve and dip until she reached my shorts, which she slowly slid down my legs along with my underwear. Allowing her, I lifted myself to help her remove them completely, revealing my naked body to her.

She watched the way the light of the room danced across my skin, highlighting every contour. With a soft moan, I reached for her, pulling her closer and pressing my lips against hers. My wetness was evident against her thigh as I pressed myself against Scarlett.

Her hands landed on my hips, pressing me down onto her thigh, allowing me to grind against her. My soft whimpers filled the room as I moved with increasing urgency, my body responding to her touch. As her hands moved my hips at a slow, agonizing pace, her lips sucked hungrily at my neck, leaving a trail of kisses down my collarbone.

"Please," I gasped, my voice barely above a whisper. "Faster."

She obliged, increasing the pressure and speed of her movements and feeling my body tremble in response. With each movement, her name became a desperate plea on my lips, my breath coming in short gasps as I surrendered to the pleasure she was giving me.

My nails dug into her back, my body arching in pleasure as I cried out her name in a mix of pleasure and desperation.

"You want to come, baby?'' Scarlett whispered in my ear, teasingly, as she felt my body shudder with anticipation. All I could give in response was a breathless nod, my eyes pleading for release as she continued to push me closer to the edge.

Her grip on me tightened, helping me speed up as I finally reached my peak, my body trembling in pure bliss as my eyes rolled back, lost in the overwhelming sensation of pleasure.

"You’re doing so good for me," she encouraged me softly, feeling a sense of satisfaction as I finally found release in her arms.

As I came down from my high, she held me close, kissing my forehead gently as I caught my breath. I stood up from her lap, my legs a little wobbly but I pulled her up from the chair and led her to the couch, pushing her down on her back.

“Your turn.” My hands explored her body as I sucked on her neck. She couldn't help but let out a soft moan of pleasure.

Pulling her underwear down, she lifted herself slightly to allow me access, eagerly anticipating the pleasure I was about to give her in return.

With each caress and kiss, I felt her surrendering completely to me. "Please, Y/n," she gasped. My fingers expertly found their way to where she needed them most, sending waves of pleasure through her body.

As I circled her clit with just the right amount of pressure, she arched her back in ecstasy, unable to contain the overwhelming sensations she was feeling.

“Baby, your fingers," she moaned, wanting them inside of her. My fingers slid inside her effortlessly, matching the rhythm of her body's response.

"You're so perfect," I whispered, my voice husky, nipping her jawline as I continued to please her. The combination of my words and touch drove her wild, pushing her closer to the edge of release.

Her walls clenched around my fingers, her breaths coming in short gasps as she surrendered to the intense pleasure building inside her. My skilled touch and whispered words sent her over the edge, her body trembling with the force of her climax.

As she collapsed back against the couch, panting, I couldn't help but marvel at how effortlessly beautiful Scarlett was.

"Come here baby," she whispered, pulling me into her arms and kissing me deeply. Straddling her, I smiled down at her, "I'm not done with you yet, love."

My swollen lips brushed against hers as I leaned in for another kiss, my hands already starting to explore her body once more. I moved her legs to allow my sensitive clit to meet hers, sending a surge of pleasure through both of us. The room filled with the sounds of heavy breathing and soft moans as we both lost ourselves in each other, completely consumed by desire.

"Baby, go faster," she gasped, unable to control the overwhelming sensations coursing through her body.

I picked up the pace, my movements becoming more urgent as we both raced towards ecstasy.

As the intensity grew, I felt a wave of euphoria building inside me, pushing me closer to the edge. Scarlett’s breath hitched as she matched my pace, her own pleasure evident in the way her body responded to mine.

With one final thrust, we both reached the peak of pleasure, exploding in a shared moment of pure bliss and our juices mingling in a beautiful, messy symphony. As I collapsed on top of Scarlett, the scent of sweat and sex lingered around us.

“Happy Birthday baby.”

****************************************************

Like by robertdowneyjr and 11 378 923 others

y/n_cole: happy birthday to my Scarly💐🌼 you’re the coolest and sweetest person ever, I love you lots✨❤️ thank god you didn’t get snapped away🕷️❤️

tchalamet not the Infinity War shade👀

y/n_cole it was a must!

florencepugh That cake! Iconic!🍒

y/n_cole I love to be appreciative😌

natasharomanoffsupremacy Y/n is just like us, a huge simp for Scarlett

****************************************************

Y/n’s painting for Scarlett

[mogai-sunflowers]

I hate it when I can't use a term that fits me very well because my brain (which processes everything with images) has an image of that term that doesn't look like me.

Like when I think of "transmasc" and all that pops into my head are skinny, white, American boys with very basic styles (which isn't a bad thing, it's just "too basic" for me personally), and of course, who look like cis boys and hate their bodies or prefer other body.

Meanwhile, I'm a POC, fat, Latine person, with questionable style (/joke), who CERTAINLY doesn't look like a cis boy and who really loves their body.

How could I use a term when my brain tells me that term doesn't fit people like me? I hate that. It's just me?

hey anon. i so wish I could reach through this screen and tell you that who you are is perfect and that you have every right to terminology that feels right, but as a fat trans person myself I know it takes more than kind words to deal with a pain like this, and one that’s even more intersectional than mine with your race and culture in the picture.

but that image you have in your head of what transmasc means, that is not the reality. that is what a small part of the community, of the world, WANTS you to think because they would rather throw other members of their community under the bus to gain faux acceptance for themselves, which is NOT your fault, but it’s also not everyone, there are so many people in this community who look like you or who truly stand with you. Transmasculine history is and never has been white or thin or any of that.

I’m going to link a few things you may want to look into if you’re wanting to start accepting your identity a little more, or just to see that you really ARENT alone. trans men/transmascs of color have been part of our history since the beginning. some of these things im sharing may be somewhat nsfw and have the word 'tranny' in them, just as a warning if that stuff bothers you.

newspaper clipping showing three trans men of color at a festival for a film they were part of, the first ever sexual/porn film by and for trans men of color

some pictures showing some fat trans men and trans men of color at marches are here

Bobby Cheung, the Asian and Pacific Islander trans man who won the Mr. Transgender San Francisco Pageant in 2004

trans men of color discuss intersectionality in a film they directed called "Trappings Of Transhood"

a photo showing the attendees of an FTM conference- you can see many non-white people in attendance

a photo of a group of Latino trans men who attended Tranny Fest in 1999

basic info on victor j mukasa, a Black transmasc lesbian active in East African LGBTQ rights scene

an older fat trans gentleman's photo and experience

a post on pauli murray (please look them up. his experience is much more nuanced than this post gives them credit for, and she was a wonderful intersectional activist)

various trans men (many fat and of color) who have contributed to our history

a conference of Indian trans men

the story of a trans man named Ben

one of my personal favorite transmasc historical figures, Amelio Robles Ávila

Zander Keig, the fat Latino trans man who won social worker of the year in 2020

a wonderful read on the intersectionality of transmasculinity and race

a digital archive of trans and queer Latino history

the Instagram page of a popular Black drag king

an article with interviews with various drag kings, including several of color

Florence Hines, the Black drag king once called the most excellent male impersonator in America

more drag kings many of color!

Drag Kings: An Archaeology of Spectacular Masculinities in Latino America

anon, it is so easy to feel like you are alone when your own history has been unfairly erased from you. but when I say “you are not alone”, I am not offering empty words of comfort- YOU ARE NOT ALONE. Transmasc and similar identity has truly NEVER actually been just for white people or thin people. You are WONDERFUL, and you are ABSOLUTELY a part of trans masculinity and transmasculine history is YOUR history and community as much as it is mine and others. You belong.

[boredandwiredkitty]

Listening to old favorite songs and getting some inspiration to write again.

For the longest time ever and and still a bit now I've been into omegaverse. Found some of my favorite kinks from it. Im a little ashamed to admit. I always wanted to incorporate it into some of my own fics and have made a few but I have yet to publish any of them. Maybe I will after this one.

I also highly recommend listening to the song as you read my little drabble. You don't have to but it might help you see the headspace I went in while writing. I really wanted to explore a bit more of the feral side of wheeljack. What if you both tried to deny what you both wanted. That push and pull. It all began as one scene in my head and the song morphed it into the whole fic that you see.

This is part one since I accidentally made it too damn long of a two part story

As always Minors DNI! This is a 18+ rated fic with NSFW! YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED!

This fic does contain most omegaverse themes so if you're adverse to that this might not be for you.

Reader is AFAB if you're wondering.

Heavy panting and heavy footfalls were the only things you could hear over your pounding spark.

Stuck again in the same dream that you get time to time. You were always running. You weren't quite sure why. Was it to something? Was it from something? Was it both? Only the pull in your chest urged you forward. Unsure if it was fear or inclination.

Just as you were about to stop and turn to see if something was behind you the rug was pulled from under you. Abruptly feeling the sensation of falling.

You awoke with a jolt. Clutching the bed underneath you confirming your stability. You were not falling nor needing to run. Everything's fine.

Sort of.

You only got that dream periodically. Right around every time your body goes through a particular change.

The limiters were off and all hell was about to break loose.

As familiar symptoms began to creep throughout your frame trepidation mixed with it.

You couldn't calm your rapid spark as your internal temp was faintly yet steadily rising. The damn dream was always a warning. A premonition of sorts.

"Please dont" You murmured to yourself. Though it was futile. You didn't know how to stop it once it was set in motion. Especially without outside help.

But who were you going to ask? With such sensitive information no less? Was there anyone you trusted enough to ask for help from? Let alone even know HOW to help you?

It was the early hours of morning before the world seemed to wake up. Dawn had yet to break over the horizon. It wasn't much time but just enough to either find help or put enough distance between yourself and a certain other.

You weakly swung your legs over the side of the bed. Becoming even more aware of your incoming heat. You even wondered if it was coming too fast.

Did shockwave have something to do with this?

The first couple of times this happened was back in shockwaves lab. Every time you started showing noticeable signs he would quickly administer some sort of drug and it would seem to vanish without a trace.

The first time it happened you were obviously concerned and immediately went to the scientist with complaints of your new alarming symptoms. The uncomfortable warmth paired with mental fog and a strange urge that burned through your body. The urge to go looking for someone so strong it overpowered everything else. You didn't know who or what but you felt like you had to find what your body needed so desperately. A feeling like you absolutely depended on it for survival.

The unconcerned tank mech only stared at you in response with his one glaring red optic when you approached him that day. Only to turn silently and cluncked to a place in the lab to began working on something. Not bothering to utter a single word to you. Not too long after he arrived with a needle loaded up what you guessed was more energon mixed with something else due to its ever so slight opaqueness.

You squirmed and questioned how he couldn't just make it into something you could drink.

"This is more effective. Injecting it directly into your bloodstream will nullify your heat immediately."

"Heat?" You asked him incredulously as he pushed the plunger carefully.

"Yes. It seems are you are beginning your first heat cycle. No matter, I have made a temporary cure for your cycle and you shall be back to normal operation in a moment."

You winced as the fluid entered your body. You hated the invasive cold feeling of liquid forcefully entering your veins. "Will it be gone permanently?"

"No. It will only prevent symptoms this cycle. Do not worry. Your systems are still functional. You just are no longer under the affects."

"Great to hear." You stated sarcastically as he moved away to go back to his current project. He was looking at a strand of CNA next to a strand of human DNA. Probably another part of your cyberformation project.

After that every heat you had; depending on how quickly your symptoms set in; he would either give you the injection or a ingestable variation. You hated the injections but you had to admit it was much nicer that relief was almost instant. The medicine would take much longer and sometimes waiting for the symptoms to dissappear was unbearable. You would not let yourself drop to degrading levels around the emotionless logic fueled scientist. You would rather die before it got to that point.

Now you sat up in the darkness of your room back at autobot headquarters. Without shockwave or any medication to get through this.

You wanted to ask ratchet for help but you didn't know if he had anything to help you or even knew how to make it. Given your circumstances it was probably only shockwave that knew.

Ratchet knew of your technorganic body but he was still learning of all its ins and outs. It was only fairly recently that you showed him shockwaves handiwork. You were patient as he would carefully examine you and run different tests to see the extent of the cyberformation. But you doubted if he knew anything about your current predicament.

You stiffly got up. There's no harm at trying.

You walked out in the dimness of the base and found the medic looking over some files.

"Hey ratchet." You quietly called out to him careful not to startle the poor older mech.

His helm quickly turned to you noticing your weary looking frame. "What are you doing up?"

You suddenly felt bashful. "I um." You squirmed under his worried gaze. "I'm getting my heat cycle. And I'm hoping you could help me."

The flush over his face made you realize you should've been more clear. "I do not think I would be the right mech for such a task. Why don't you ask w-" He began before you cut him off from saying his name.

"Nonono! That's not what I'm saying. Can you give me some medicine to alleviate the symptoms?!" You exclaimed while waving your arms frantically in front of you.

"You want me to make a medicine?" He queried.

"Yes. That's what I meant," You confirmed back.

Ratchet stood there in deep thought for a moment. Murmuring to himself before looking back up at you.

"I'd hate to ask but what would shockwave do when this would happen? Or is this the first time?"

You shook your head. "Shockwave had different remedies. Sometimes it was an injection. Sometimes it was a medicine that I would drink. It depended on how bad the symptoms were." You told him truthfully. Hopeful he would find something.

"What exactly are your symptoms?"

Your eyes darkened. What a unpleasant question.

While you spent your time here you noticed something you never would've back at the lab. Something you would only have realized once EXPOSED to it.

The mech that plagued you. That you were injected with their energon. Repeatedly. Invading your veins to begin the cyberforming process. Their biomatter mixed with yours. How your body called out to theirs as if they were a homing beacon. You were a moth and they were the flame.

You took a deep breath. Attempting to calm your fretful spark. Trying to figure out how to tell him. "I start to feel a bit feverish." You began and ratchet nodded at you in acknowledgement. Silently urging you to keep going. "I get mental fog. My body feels a bit weaker than usual," You continued. Watching as ratchet was listening intently to every word you said.

Ratchet gazed at you probingly as you stopped listing anything else. "Is that all? Are you sure you're not having any other symptoms than that? Because if that were the case it could be something else besides a heat cycle."

You scowled. "No" you grumbled. Feeling defeated at confessing this out loud.

You raised your head to look ratchet better in the optics. "I get the most desperate and embarrassing URGE for a certain autobot."

You watched his optics widen a bit. "Who is it?"

You bit your lip as you felt a sudden tug in your spark. "Who do you think?" You snapped defensively.

Ratchet nodded in understanding. "I'll see what I can do but I cannot guarantee that I will have anything ready by the time you fully get your heat. In that case what do you want me to do?" His voice was professional. Like any medical practitioner.

"Send me away." You quickly spoke with a sweep of your arm. "Just get me out of here before something happens! I don't care where. Hell, inject me with whatever concoction you come up with! Anything to stop this heat from happening! I'll even drink the nastiest medicine you make!"

Ratchet jolted back aghast. "Are you sure that's what you want? Do you not want to try anything else?"

You nodded solemnly, "What other choice do I have? I don't want to inflict my heat on anyone else."

"Has it affected anyone before?"

You wrinkled your nose in thought. "Not that I'm aware. It never really seemed to bother shockwave. But that mech is rather stoic so it's hard to tell. Maybe the vehicons if I'm further in my heat but I'm usually isolated from most others."

Ratchet turned to start typing on his console. "That could either be because either you don't produce pheromones to attract other bots or.." He trailed off as he typed. Then looking over at the exit of the hangar. "That you affect only ONE mech. Given your symptoms that you described."

You choked on your spit and deadpanned. Currently the said mech was out on a mission. But when they come back what will happen? Will he be unaffected or completely taken over and forced into rut? Was that something you wanted to take chances on? It was getting harder to tell as clouded thoughts started to flit through your mind. Maybe it would be interesting to see if he would react. But what then?...

"If you wish to stay somewhere else after they get back I'll be sure to move you before letting them return to base."

You nodded politely. "That would be preferable thank you."

With that ratchet extended a servo to which you climbed on as he took you to his medical work station.

You tried not to put up much of a fuss as he did various scans. Typing different things on his monitor.

"Will you be adverse to me taking an energon sample?" He asked gently.

You made a face. You hated injections and getting fluids drawn. "I'd prefer if you didnt." You grumbled honestly.

"Unfortunately it would be much harder to get an accurate suppressant made if I don't get all the information that is stored in your genetic makeup."

You grimaced. Aka he needed your blood. If he didn't have it it would be as useful as taking a shot in the dark. You really wanted to avoid needles as much as possible though.

Ratchet sensed your unease. Being shockwaves captive is no joke. He didn't want to think about what that mech put you through. "Don't worry. I'll apply the techniques that nurse Darby taught me in case I ever had to help with the kids."

He then activated his holoform and brought out a small kit for drawing blood. "I'll try to make this as painless as possible."

You tried to be still and not fight ratchet so much but you couldn't help but flinch away when he brought the needle close to your arm.

"Why don't I turn on the TV so you have something to distract yourself." He asked you gently while moving the needle away.

You tried to sit up straighter. "I don't know. I'm not used to having a distraction. I don't know if it will work."

"Here." Ratchet then removed his holoform and picked you up. Placing you on the couch and turned on the TV. Setting it to a low enough volume. "Do you want to talk about anything?"

You now we're settled next to ratchets holoform again as you faced the TV on the couch they had for the kids. Some early morning cartoons were playing that you remember seeing as a kid and felt a wave of nostalgia wash over you. A sense of familiarity as you stared at the screen.

"It's kinda hard to find anything to talk about anything right now." You gave a light chuckle. "The brain fog is slowly taking over." You confessed still focused on the TV.

"Is it bad?" He asked as he carefully pierced your skin with the needle and watched you wince.

You shook your head. "Not that bad yet. But I bet it's only going to get worse."

"Probably." Ratchet agreed as he continued focusing on drawing your energon mixed blood. "But I will do my best to prevent it."

"Thank you. I appreciate it."

"You're very welcome." He told you with a smile. "How are you feeling besides the heat? Any issues with the cyberforming?"

"None that I'm aware." You stated. Glancing over to look at him for a moment. Doing your best to not look down at what was happening with your arm.

"Well while I have a sample I'll be running some tests to make sure everything is doing alright. I'll probably have June look over at your panels as well."

"Sounds good" You told him. Noticing how he was already moving to stand up. "Done already?" You asked incredulously.

"Yep. Already got enough samples for testing. You're good to go."

Samples? As in plural? You looked down at your arm and saw a little bandaid, then to his hand where he held five vials of your mixed blood.

"No way!" You whispered in astonishment. Reaching out to hold one of the warm vials in your hand. "This is so trippy." You laughed as you lifted it up to examine it closer. Trying to use the light from the TV to see through the vial.

"Wasn't too bad was it?" Ratchet asked as you handed him back the vial.

"No you did good. But I wonder if me going into heat is particularly to blame. I think I'm starting to go mentally numb to my surroundings."

"I'm going to go start running the tests. You can sit here for now. Let me know if the symptoms get worse or if you need anything."

You nodded and watched as he left. You couldn't help but wonder why you didn't feel anything with anyone else. There was no pull. No longing. No lust. Nothing. Which you were thankful for. But you felt nervous how bad it would get with HIM in proximity while you were going into heat. His lingering scent was already making you feel the warmth between your legs.

"Maybe I will ask smokescreen to take me out somewhere to keep me out of the base." You mumbled to yourself. He was a good and trusted friend. With that thought and uncomfortable feeling coiled in your gut. Like the thought of being alone with someone else repulsed you. Which made no sense since you were fine being alone with ratchet. Maybe because the scenario is different?

You couldn't make heads or tails of it. It was getting harder to think deeply. So you just relaxed as you started to watch the next show that played. Numbing your mind to everything but the screen infront of you.

As you went through different episodes the more you felt the warmth radiating from your body. Did your spark always sound this loud? What were you doing again?

You moved to stand up but then remembered you were waiting on ratchet. How much longer till he would be done? How long do normal cybertronian heats last? How long does it usually take for symptoms to get bad?

You were about to call out to him to ask when you realized he had already been calling your name.

You blinked at him. "Um, yes?" You asked stupidly.

"They are requesting to return to base. Do you want to go somewhere real quick?"

Your mind lagged. Go?... Go where? Where will you go? Making a decision felt difficult.

Your mouth fell open but no words came to mind. "I dont....." you trailed off. You couldn't think. All you could think about was how uncomfortable you felt and how your clothes felt too warm. You wanted to cool off. A cold shower sounded nice right now.

"Shower" You told him.

Ratchet looked at you incredulously. "What?.. nevermind," Ratchet sighed shaking his helm. it seemed your heat was coming on faster than expected. It was only a matter of time before you would be incoherent. He needed to find somewhere for you to stay in the meantime. but housing a technorganic in heat would be no easy feat. Considering this would be your first time fully going into heat. Who knows how your body would handle it. He wanted to keep you close by to check on you. Since it was obvious you weren't producing any pheromones that affected him. He was your physician and he wanted to help in any way he could.

He quickly picked you up and activated the ground bridge. Rushing you out to the barracks to get washed up. Maybe a hygiene ritual will help cool your symptoms. Even if for a bit. At the very least it would dampen the intensity of your pheromones for short amount of time.

He set you down. "Let me know if you need anything else. I will have Fowler be helping you." And with that he swiftly dissapeared back to the hangar.

You blinked as you just staired at the direction he went. Your mind trying to keep up. What just happened?

You shook your head and slapped your cheeks. Trying to regain your senses.

Shower. You were here to shower.

You went inside and found a stall. Pulling the curtain you stripped your clothes and hung them on the divider wall. Maybe a shower will help. You could only wish silently to yourself as you turned the knob.

Back at base ratchet arrived as everyone was stepping through the bridge. First Magnus strutted in. Looking completely unaffected followed by smokescreen who also seemed completely unaware of any potential pheromones in the air. Leaving ratchet to muse that maybe his hypothesis was right.

It was when wheeljack walked through he staggered. Seeming to be completely thrown off the moment he entered the base. With bulkhead looking over at him concerned.

"Whoa Jackie. You alright?"

The white wrecker blinked in a daze before coming to his senses. "Yeah. I'm alright."

Ratchet could only hum in thought. So he WAS right. You could only affect wheeljack. So all he had to do was keep you both separated. Since that seemed to be your wish.

Wheeljack spotted the medic seeming to be in deep though and walked over. "Whatcha working on?" He couldn't help but notice the closer he got the stronger the smell. Was it ratchet? He had to wonder and find out for himself.

"I'm just going over (name)'s charts."

He looked at the screen to see a strand of CNA mixed with DNA along with another strand of CNA next to it. "Is something wrong?" He couldn't hide the worry in his voice.

"No nothings wrong per se. Just looking over some things for her since she asked." Ratchet stated while typing on the screen before turning to the wrecker. "Why? Is something the matter?"

Wheeljack looked caught off guard again. "Nah its just..." He paused for a brief moment. Thinking of what to say. "It's nothing. Just wondering." He then looked around. "Is (name) around?"

"She just went out. She will be back later." He stated and turned back to his work. The faster he can make the suppressant the faster your symptoms will dissappear. As well as your pheromones.

Ratchet didn't even realize wheeljack was halfway out the door before he frantically called back to him. "And where do you think you're going?!"

"Just out for a moment. I'll be back." He stated without turning around. Causing poor ratchet to bristle over his flippant retort.

"I need you to stay here for the time being. The others may require backup." Ratchet snipped

"Awe c'mon doc. I just got here. Don't tell me you're going to send me out again." He complained loudly. He was desperate to see if you were the source of those enticing pheromones.

"I just might now get back here!" The medic snapped at the white mech. "And stop calling me doc!"

You were standing there just letting the water drum over you. The coolness seeping into your skin. The running water helped with the uncomfortable warmth you felt but it didn't help the thick fog your mind was swimming through or the absolute urge to go looking for the mech that your body was calling out for.

You rested your head against the cool tiles of the stall. You wanted these symptoms to go away. If only you were back at shockwaves lab. He would administer the shot without a second thought. You should've grabbed some medicine before you escaped. You figured if the scientist felt emotions he would be laughing at your predicament right now. Or maybe. This is exactly what he wanted. But why?

Subconsciously your hand had found itself between your legs. Fingers sliding inside the place that ached as your mind wondered to your wrecker. Your fingers didn't offer much but the thoughts of it being him helped. A stifled moan caught in your throat when you heard a sound outside and decided you were in there long enough. It not like you weren't in the desert right now or anything and that water was not usually something of abundance. Nor should you be entertaining such dangerous ideas.

You lamented on how the coolness quickly left your body and struggled to dry off and redress.

You left the showers to find Fowler waiting for you. "Ratchet informed me you weren't feeling right and had me look over you for the time being. Is there anything you need?"

"Something cool. Or maybe a nap." Or maybe a third that shall not be mentioned.

"Would you like me or one of the bots to take you into town to get some ice cream then?

Your eyes lit up for a second as a certain wrecker crossed your mind before you quickly dismissed that thought.

"I'm not sure." You told him truthfully.

You didn't know what you wanted. Nothing sounded appealing to you. All except for the carnal urge to find the white lancia and make him yours. To sink your teeth into him. Intertwine your body with his. To feel his spark beat against yours. But such an intimately deep and primal urge scared you. You were scared of the unknowns. You were still intigrating yourself into team prime. Slowly becoming comfortable with everyone around you. Being thrust into a situation like this was alarming.

"I'll just hang out in a different hanger and try to get some rest." You told him. All in all you didn't feel like being around anyone. Well all except one mech. But you weren't ready for that. You were starting to remember him better. Rekindle your close friendship. Such a commitment was not something to take lightly. You would do your best not to give in.

You ended up at an adjacent hangar and the others were polite enough to lend you an office to crash in. They even were kind enough to lend you a pillow. Once you seemed settled in enough on the small couch Fowler left to go back to his own office.

"If you need anything just give me a call." Fowler told you before leaving.

You hummed in acknowledgement and watched him dissappear from the doorway. Closing the door behind himself. Leaving you by yourself with your thoughts all over again.

You wanted to rest. Even with the malaise wearing down your body you wouldn't be able to relax. Not with the desire to seek out relief plaguing your hazed mind. Picking and nagging at you. But you wouldn't be caught dead pleasuring yourself in public like this.

You laid there for what felt like hours. Trying menial mental tests to keep you sane. You feared the moment you slipped up you would lose control. But as time ticked by your mental awareness shrank to next to nothing. Even your short term memory started to fail. It was getting to the point you would get up to leave. Only to stop yourself when you remembered just WHY you placed yourself into quarantine to begin with. Then found yourself pacing as you battled your own body. It felt like chains were constricting your body. Hot, heavy, and extremely uncomfortable. All with that mech on the other end tugging at you to come closer.

You didn't want to be caged up any longer. You've had enough of that back with the decepticons. The air was too stuffy. It was getting harder to breathe. You were sure soon the walls were going to start closing in on you.

You walked out to notice that the hangar was vacant. All military personnel had already left for the most part. How long were you in that office? Was it already night? There's no way. You stepped out and felt unease wash over you. It was uncomfortably quiet. You had gotten used to the hustle and bustle of hangar E. How there was at least one living being in the hangar at all times.

You left the hangar quickly. Not wanting to stay there much longer. The silence was suffocating.

What you weren't expecting was finding yourself wandering mindlessly over to the outside of hangar E. It was dark outside but like usual inside the hangar it was relatively lit. You wanted that familiarity. Something about it was calling you. Or maybe it was your instincts. It was getting harder to tell. You didn't even know what you were doing or why you were even there in the first place. Your self controll must really be slipping now.

You shook your head. You wanted to ask ratchet but thought better than to just waltz right in. You needed to go back before making a mistake. Turning to trudge back to the hangar you found yourself unable to take a single step. You would go back; Only that you had to conveniently forget which one you had actually stayed in.

Fuck.

You wanted to cry in frustration. What were you even doing? Where were you? Why were you still so freaking warm. And where was ratchet with your suppressant. "Just hurry up with the damn suppressant already!" You cried out to no one in particular. Well no one in earshot. At least that's what you thought.

The scent. Oh Primus the scent that started filtering into your nose. It made you feel weaker. it made the heat of desire burn hotter, stronger, heavier. A vice tightening with every vent. Like a starved animal. It clouded everything out of your mind. You turned around and was met with the sight of wheeljack standing just outside hangar E.

Just as you opened your mouth to say something you clamped your hand around it. No! Don't draw him closer. If you do you will lose the very shred of self control you had left.

He spotted you and began to make his way to you.

At first you stumbled towards him. Drunk off of his scent. It coaxing you sweetly while pulling you in. Calling to you. Beconing. Only for you to regain your senses enough to run.

And run you did.

To be continued...

Part two

[yelenasdiary]

You Did What?!

Pairing: Florence Pugh x Reader

Summary: Flo comes home with a little surprise 

Fluff | No Warnings | 1.2K | 

AC: If you watched the new interview, I hope you heard my tears of joy! 

With A Good Person just released and your girlfriend on a press tour from London to the States, it was hard not to miss her! Of course, if you had the time off work, you would've traveled with her without a second thought. The two of you have been spending plenty of time in the newly built home in London while Florence took a short break from filming and press, luckily for you your job allowed you to work from home via conference calls etc. 

Florence texted and called you every day, even if she only had a quick 2 minutes to say hi and that she misses you. You loved how no matter where she was, you both were able to make things work. 

When Florence texted you in capitals out of pure excitement, the biggest smile tugged at your lips as you read "I'M DOING THE PUPPY INTERVIEW!!!" It's been on her bucket list for a while now. Just to be surrounded by puppies, who wouldn't want that?! Almost instantly you called her to ask all the questions of when and where.

"I'm doing it tomorrow! I wasn't going to tell you and just wait for you to see it but I got too excited" she chuckled over the phone. Your smile only grew bigger by the sound of her voice and the happiness you could hear. "There's no way you could've kept this from me for too long" you replied in a sarcastic tone. 

"Just be prepared for all the behind-the-scenes selfies" Flo commented. 

"Oh, I'll be waiting! I better get more photos of puppies though" you joked. Florence playfully huffed, "Are you saying I'm not as cute as the puppies?!" she asked. "That's exactly what I'm saying, sorry babe" you chuckled as you pictured what her facial expression would look like right now. 

"I get it, I mean, if you were in a room full of puppies, I'd go for the puppies too" Florence joked pack in a put-on hurt tone. The two of you were well known for always laughing and making fun of one another. 

"Yeah, yeah, I'm sure you're standing there with your free hand on your hip right now totally not offended that I think puppies are cuter than you" 

There was a moment of silence before Florence chuckled once more, "Are you spying on me baby? Have you got eyes one me?" she asked. 

"Always, I'm everywhere" you playfully shook your head, "I have a conference call in 5 minutes baby but I hope you have a wonderful time tomorrow, I can't wait to see the puppies!" you added when your eyes caught the time. 

"Don't let me keep you love, say hi to Billie for me! I miss you both" 

"I think Billie is going to have second thoughts about you after I show her the photos you'll send" 

"Don't you dare! Billie, baby, don't listen to her! mommy loves you!" You'll never get over the sound of joy that comes from her giggle. "I love you hon but I really have to go, I'll text you after" you pouted as your eyes stayed glued to the time on your laptop. 

"Alright darling, have a lovely meeting! I miss you" 

"I miss you too love, stay safe!" 

You both kept the phone to your ears until the beeping died out and silence filled the room. Billie looked up at you as she lay by your feet, a sigh came from you as you looked down at her. "Only a few more days, Billie!" You smiled softly. 

----

Those few more days felt like forever as you and Billie waited patiently for Florence to walk through the door. As normal, Flo messaged you when she landed and that she'd only be a few more hours until she was home, and you could finally tackle her to the floor (with Billie's help) and attack her with a giant hug. During those hours, you decided to cook her favorite dinner and pop open a bottle of her favorite wine before setting the table. 

A playlist that Florence made on your phone played softly in the background, your excitement building by the minute as the clock ticked on, just waiting for the sound of a car pulling up and Billie racing to the front door. Even though the house was filled with the delicious smell of dinner, that never stopped Billie from getting distracted by the sound of Flo at the door. Her bark alerted you that somebody was at the home, and you couldn't help but smile as you quickly poured two glasses of wine and sat them on the dinner table. 

"Darling! I know you and Billie are waiting to take me down but just give me a second to show you something first" Florence's voice came from the other side of the front door. 

"I don't think you're getting out of our love that easy" you chuckled. 

"No, my love, I have a surprise" Florence replied, "could you please hold Billie?" she added. 

You frowned slightly as you gently got down to Billie's level and held her back, "Go ahead" you called just before you saw the door creep open. "Don't be mad but" Florence paused as the door creeped open even more. Slowly Florence stepped in holding a little brown puppy with a tiny white patch on its chest. "Uh, baby" you gasp, "I don't think you were meant to steal a puppy!" you added as Flo slowly walked over to you and Billie, both dogs tails wagging wildly as Florence gently placed the puppy on the floor.

 "I didn't steal her, I adopted her" Florence smiled proudly as she looked up at you, "You did what?" You raised a brow in shock. 

"I adopted her, I don't know how to explain it but leaving her behind felt wrong, I hope you're not mad. Look at her cute little face" 

It was no lie, the puppy was adorable, you just weren't expecting Florence to bring home a puppy! Although Billie quickly showed a liking to the little pup, sniffing her and rolling onto her back to let the new family member sus her out. "You know I can't stay mad about this" you playfully glared at Florence whose smile did not fade an inch, "what's her name?" you asked. 

"She doesn't have one yet, that's for you to pick" Florence watched as the unnamed puppy made her way over to your lap. Her big dark brown eyes looked up at you as you gently picked her up, "You really are just adorable aren't you" you coo'd. After a few moments of petting her and rubbing her chubby puppy belly, you looked up at Florence and smiled. "How about Layla?" you questioned. Florence chuckled, "Did you also notice the little L shape bite mark on her collar?" she asked, you nodded. 

"Layla is perfect!" Florence smiled as Layla jumped off your lap and wagged her tail as Billie came closer to her, "What do you think Billie? You have to be a good big sister and make sure Layla doesn't cause too much trouble" Flo added as she petted Billie gently. "You're picking up after thou, I'm still mad you brought home a dog" you playfully winked at your girlfriend who just shook her head at you as she reached over and kissed you softly. 

"I missed you" she whispered against your lips.

"Do that again and I may forgive you" you smiled softly before she kissed you once again, this time deeper. "I'll think about it" you chuckled as you tackled her with a tight hug, "I missed you too my love" you couldn't help but kiss her once more.

Taglist: @red1culous | @bentleywolf29 | @jeyramarie | @lissaaaa145 | @high--power | @parkerdaramitzzzz | @mmmmokdok | @wackymcstupid | @kiwiana145  | @sophie-xox | @shin-conan-kun | @nattyolw | @ripofflizzie | @get-the-fuck-outta-here | @goofy-goonie | @makegoodchoices | @apollo2907 | @marvelfan98 | @wandaroman0ff | @dumb-fawkin-bitch | @lovelyy-moonlight | @santana1437 | @sophie-xox | @fluffyblanketgecko | @inluvwithfictionalwomen | @jaymieflorissssssss | @tita001 | @youralphawolf72 | @crescent-witch | @randomnessbecausewhynot | @natashamaximoff69 | @a-dorkier-book-keeper | @hehehehannahthings | @blue-serendipityy | @secrettoallofyou | @romantic-slaps-on-the-asss | @marvel-fan-2021 | @mmmmokdok | @riveramorylunar | @ripofflizzie | @toldthatdevil | @itsmv3 | @katiemay-025 | @livresjaunes | 

[raphaelesbian]

Ok ok ok so hear me out! Shush! I'm not crazy! Just....just....just....stop screaming.....LISTEN!!!

So we open with a song I'll call "Hamato vs Foot" which is very "Horse and The Infant" from Epic esque. War drums. Large powerful chorus of ninjas singing about the feud and how much they hate eachother. There is a big battle happening.

"The Hamatos are ending the Foot tonight."

Then we have a break/bridge/whatever that's very "Just A Man" from Epic and "Dear Theodosia" from Hamilton (but much dramatic, less domestic) for when Hamato Yutta finds baby Saki and debates killing him, but decides to take him in instead.

This part will be done with a specific motif that I'm calling "Miwa's Melody". (That's a surprise tool to help us later!)

"This child will not die for my cause. I'll take him home. Raise him as my own. He doesn't have to know who his father really was."

Time skip!!!

I'll call this "Brothers Song". I can't find anything with the right feel, but kinda "Two Player Game" from Be More Chill, but COMPLETELY different sound. (Video games just don't fit here, despite being set in Japan in the 80's and 90's.) For some reason "Two By Two" from Sofia The First is the closest song I can find to MATCH MY VISION!!!

I'm not crazy! Shut up!

Anyways. So the "Brothers Song" would jave either two or three time skips. Depending.Either, Toddler to Tweens to Young Men, or just Tweens to Young Men.

"Brother Song" would be a song aboit Saki and Yoshi being a team and promising to be there for eachother. Very cute. Very happy. Very hopeful. Bonus points for ever "Wizard And I" from Wicked lile wordplay. IE, lines that COMPLETELY change meaning when you know the ending and are suddenly twisting knives! (Think Saki saying something like "I'd follow you to the other side of the world!" although our story isn't showing that pay off.)

We end with two grown men.

Enter Shen.

IDK if I was to give her an intro song or not, but definitely something where Saki and Yoshi are singing over eachother with COMPETING melodies. (Do you see it!? DO YOU UNDERSTAND THE VISION!?!?!?)

Yoshi gets his own love song duet with Shen. Think "I Can Hear The Bells" from Hairspray or "Elephant Love Melody" from Moulin Rouge.

Let's face it. We all know we need a "I will love you until my dying day" like line here and why!

The Saki gets hisbown duet with Shen I'm calling the "Silver Medal Song". Shen is confirming that she loves him, but that Yoshi is her first choice. No amount of convincing from Saki is going to change that. He can't win because the fact Shen choose Yoshi first will never go away. Even if they got together. It would bother him forever and he would never be happy.

"Even if you get the prize. Will if truly make you happy if your medal is still silver?"

Shen leaves stage and we are left with Saki singing a solo I'm calling "Saki's Lament". Think "Pity The Child" from Chess with a touch of "Sally's Song" from Nightmare Before Christmas. "We're never to become. For I am not the one."

Basically it's Saki airing out that he's always felt lile second place to Yoshi. He loves his brother, but he doesn't know why it feels like Yoshi is always the favorite. (We may have a few musical hints at a later song at the end of this one)

End of Act One!

We open Act Two with a fully proper song arpund the previously established "Miwa's Melody". This is more domestic. Almoat unrecognizable. Miwa is born and her parents are blissfully. Even more "Dear Theodosia" and maybe a little "Everything Changes" from Waitress. Maybe a touch of "Thank Goodness" from Wicked.

I'm not sure if we end the song on it, or if Saki waits until the dialog section, but he RUINS the mood. He's not happy.

Maybe it's a few scenes, or this one goes on for a while, but I think the "Yoshi loses his temper" scene gpes here. Maybe an angry reprise of "Brothers Song"

Our next song is when Shen rips Saki aside to rip him a new one.

The cut song "Congratulations" from Hamilton". "Nobody's Side" and "Florence Quits" from Chess. "You want to lose your only friend well keep up you're doing fine!" is SUCH the vibe for this!

Shen tears into Saki for his misbehavior and warns him that he needs to get a grip.

"You'll destroy everything you have and hurt everyone you have to love! Me your friend, Yoshi your brother, and you yourself!"

Bad Sad. Maybe throw in some motifs from "Saki's Lament" Because Shen loves and understands him, even if he's not the man she choose to have romantically.

Then, while Saki is dealing with that Yutta reveals his true heritage.

We start the next song as a reprise of "Saki's Lament" but it morphs into the big bombastic villain descent song. "Shredder's Song" Kind of "No Good Deed" from Wicked. Kind of "Hell To Your Doorstep" from Count Of Monty Cristo. Lind of "Epiphany" from Sweeney Todd.

This is the moment Saki dies from heartbreak and The Shredder is born from that grave.

Now we cut away to what I'm calling the "Cassandra Song" from Shen. She's trying to warn Yoshi that things are about to go south. Yoshi ignores her and leaves part wau through the song, and she's left lamenting that bother men she loves are stupid and probably doomed.

Part "Sally's Song" From Nightmare Before Christmas. "What will become of my dear friend? Where will his actions lead us then?" and a lot "Someone Else's Story" from Chess with a dash of "I Know Him So Well". "Although the feelings run just as deep. The promise she made has grown impossible to keep."

So now. NOW!!! NOW WE HAVE THE CLIMAX!!!

A little diddy I would called "Foot vs Hamato." which is very "Horse and The Infant" from Epic esque. War drums. Large powerful chorus of ninjas singing about the feud and how much they hate eachother. There is a big battle happening.

"The Foot are ending the Hamatos tonight."

Sound familiar? Oh yeah baby!!!! SYMMETRY!!!!!

Only instead of the break wjere Hamato Yutta sang Miwa's Melody.

The Shredders is reprising hia hit new single.

Yoshi runs in to fight him singing another reprise of "Brothers Song". Maybe in a pleading manner, maybe another angry version.

It harmonizes of course.

The chorus is still going strong with "Foot vs Hamato"

Shen adds a layer of "Cassandra Song" as she sets Miwa down to jump in.

Then everything stops when Shen gets hit.

There's a sad reprise of Yoshi and Shen's duet. You KNOW this is where the "I will love you until my dying day" line comes back!

Screams, roof caves in. Shredder finds Miwa.

Shredder sings Hamato Yutta's part from "Hamato vs Foot" as he decides to take Miwa!

"This child will not die for my cause. I'll take her home. Raise her as my own. She doesn't have to know who her father really was."

The one more time skip to see a child Karai interactingnwith Shredder who sings a reprise, not of "Miwa's Melody" again, but "Brothers Song" symbolic of the fact Karai os not only a stand in for her mother, the woman Shredder lost, but also her father, the brother he misses. Also hinting that Shredder will destroyed her and their bond the same way he destroyed Yoshi and their brotherhood.

Alright. Thank you for your attention. You may all chew through the restrains now.

I am!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️🤩🤩🤩🤩🤩🤩 this is literally SO COOL OMG. I've read this whole thing through a few times, listening to each of the song examples you gave, and it's just. Augh you've put it together so well?? Like I can just SEE and HEAR it and I would kill someone for it to be real omfg.

Yoshi and Saki having a competing melody song fight over Shen??? I ABSOLUTELY see the vision it's FANTASTIC god it fits so well that would be so funnnn. And I'm just obsessed with the levity, considering this is kind of a turning point in their story. Going from that, to the duets, to Saki's LAMENT. Him always feeling second to Yoshi..... oh man.

Saki coming in to ruin the mood!! Like imagining coming back from intermission, the curtains draw back and it's so light and happy and peaceful, and then Saki's very presence rips that away. \

(CONGRATULATIONS MENTION. fucking love that one, can't believe they cut it)

The idea of Shen's "Cassandra Song" is so cool omg, like. God, imagining her trying so hard to convince Yoshi of the coming storm and him brushing her off, IMMEDIATELY following Shredder's big villain song (which OH MY GOD that would be so cool I'm shaking and biting. Epiphany is one of my fav songs I can just aaaaaaasdhgsdhg imagining his whole like. Breakdown, like I feel like Epiphany is a really good example of the singer so vividly SNAPPING as the song goes on. Just, imagining Saki starting mournful, then ending the song straight up snarling the lines).

The carry through of "Brothers Song," from the bright optimistic montage in the beginning, to the angry reprise when they fight, to a desperate, begging reprise during the climax. Absolute AGONY I love that kind of thing in a musical. A good reprise is AMAZING.

I love the idea of starting with Hamato vs Foot, and Yuuta finding Saki and audibly debating what to do before deciding to take him, and then ENDING with the inverse, and Saki repeating Yuuta's line about not allowing a child to day for your cause and keeping their heritage from them??? hsdkaghksdghsldgk !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! it's about the PARALLELS!!!!

AND THEN ENDING. WITH BROTHERS SONG. WITH SHREDDER AND KARAI. BITING YOU BITING YOU. OH I GOT CHILLS.

[wings-of-ink]

hellooo!! i recently read your if (it’s now one of my favorites <3) and i always listen to music while i play demos and whatnot and when we got to meeting duri in wolf form for the first time (aka the scene where mc thinks their fighting for their lives) the song “and the hound” by yaelokre started playing and it fit so well!!! and after when we got to know duri more i felt like it matched them even more! anyways just wanted to share that little moment with you hehe wish you all the best!! <333

Hello and welcome, my friend! I'm so glad that GC has become a favorite for you. That makes me do a little happy dance.

That song is so fitting! I quite like it as well, it's going on the playlist, (my spouse thanks you since I'm usually just putting metal and EDM on it and this is much more to his tastes, lol).

Perhaps less fitting depending on perception, but I kept thinking about Howl by Florence + The Machine while writing that - but honestly I probably think of this song for all wolf-related characters, lol. It is one of my all-time favs in general. And really, once Duri gets a taste of real love, they're going to hunt it down. ^_^

[detectivesebcas]

White Noise (Preview)

As a homicide detective for KCPD Sebastian has seen more than a few suspicious deaths, but there’s something especially nefarious about his latest string of cases.  As one crime scene leads to another, Sebastian and his partner Joseph are forced to question everything they know about Krimson City, the police department, and even themselves.  Something is very wrong in the city they’ve sworn to protect, and the key to the whole case just might be one mysterious artist.

[Police drama/psychological thriller about our favorite pair of detectives and their unlikely artist companion.  This story will deal heavily with themes of suicide, trauma, and mental illness and will include eventual romance between Sebastian and Stefano.]

Preview below.   I expect to post the first chapter on AO3 on November 18th.

“Don’t come any closer!”

The man’s words are almost lost in the howling wind and the darkness.  The sky is black above them, and the water is black below them, and the lights of Krimson City might as well be miles away.

Sebastian throws his hands up, palms facing forward.  “I won’t!” he shouts back.  “Just don’t move.”

He wants to glance over his shoulder, but his eyes are locked on the man in front of him.   He’s young, maybe in his mid-twenties, with wild dark hair and heavy scarring on one side of his face.  Even as Sebastian watches, he turns his gaze back down to the water under the bridge.

“Hey!” Sebastian calls out, loud enough to get the man’s attention again, but hopefully not loud enough to startle him into giving up his tenuous grasp on life.

The man’s head whips around, and his one visible eye meets Sebastian’s.  In that moment he looks afraid.

“What’s your name?” Sebastian asks.

He’s pretty sure he’s supposed to establish some kind of rapport, as absurd as that seems in this situation, but he’s also painfully aware that he’s not qualified for this.  When the call came out, he was the only detective anywhere nearby.  He’s got two patrol units blocking traffic on either end of the bridge and a trained negotiator on the way, but the look in this man’s eye says there’s not going to be time for that.

The man shakes his head.  “Just let me go,” he calls back.  “Let me slip beneath the waves.”

“That’s not how it works,” Sebastian calls back.  “We’re a hundred feet in the air.   It’s like hitting concrete!”

Maybe it’s the wrong thing to say, but it’s the first thing that comes out of his mouth, and it’s true.  A look of surprise flashes across the man’s face, but he doesn’t say anything.

“Look,” Sebastian says, taking a deep breath and trying to collect his thoughts to find the right words for this situation.  “I’m Sebastian, and I want to help you-”

“It’s your job to help me,” the man snaps.

“It’s my job to investigate murders,” Sebastian says reflexively, “but I also really don’t want you to jump off this bridge.”

There’s something on the man’s face then- almost a thoughtful look- and Sebastian wonders if he’s making some headway.

“Can I come a little closer?” Sebastian asks.  “You know, so we don’t have to yell?”

The man seems to consider for a moment, then slowly nods.  He keeps his gaze locked on Sebastian, as Sebastian steadily moves forward, hands still held in the air.

“Stop,” he says suddenly when Sebastian is about six feet away from  him, and Sebastian stops, letting his breath out in one long, slow exhale.  His heart is pounding so hard that the sound of the blood rushing in his ears almost drowns out the wind.

“Are you from Krimson City?” Sebastian asks, stalling for time as he gauges the distance between them.  He’s still not close enough to make a move.  If the man lets go, he’ll fall faster than Sebastian can grab hold of him and pull him back over the railing.

“No,” the man replies, “from Florence.”

Now that they’re a little closer and he can hear him better, Sebastian can detect the man’s accent.  He’s still looking at Sebastian, eye wild and hair swept up in the wind.  Florence seems like such an exotic, interesting place compared to Krimson City that Sebastian has to ask, “How’d you end up here?”

There’s a tiny hint of a smile on the man’s face.  “That’s a long story.”

“I’ve got time,” Sebastian says.  He can feel a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth until the man’s next words make his blood run cold.

“I don’t.”

He turns his head to look down at the water again, and Sebastian can see his chest rising and falling rapidly.

“Wait!” he calls out, every muscle in his body coiled and ready to spring forward.

The man slowly turns back toward him, and this time his eye is cold and his face is expressionless.

“You will remember in time,” he says.  “I can show you.”

Sebastian opens his mouth to ask what the hell that means, but his eyes snap down to the man’s hands, which are spasming on the railing of the bridge, clenched tight one moment and almost slack the next.

He’s out of time.

He lunges forward, hurling himself against the railing so hard he’s in danger of flying over himself, but he wraps his arms around the man’s chest, hauling him back over the railing and onto the bridge where they collapse in a heap on the ground, panting and shaking.

He holds the man firmly against his chest.

“Stefano.”

“What?” Sebastian says, his brain struggling to process what the man is saying.

“My name is Stefano.”

[bagheerita]

Put your music library on shuffle, then list the first five songs that come up in a poll to let people vote for which one they like the most!

Tagged by @ladyaldhelm ❤

So, I was listening to my ship songs list when I got this, so each of these songs, whenever I hear them, also makes me think of a specific ship. (I suppose you can vote for the song or the ship lol)

King and Lionheart: Roy Mustang/Riza Hawkeye (Fullmetal Alchemist). I saw a music video of this pairing to this song and it's never left my head since.

You Told the Drunks I Knew Karate: Amy Pond/Rory Williams (Doctor Who). Same story, fan music video that suited them perfectly.

No Reply: Bucky Barnes/Steve Rogers (Marvel). I'm still mad at Steve but it doesn't change the fact that whenever I hear the lyric "I no longer know myself but I still know you" I think of that scene in CatWS.

Blinding: Nicholas Rush/Amanda Perry (Stargate Universe). Not all of these are happy ships, lol. This song really just makes me think of SGU in general, or Rush's relationship with Gloria as well especially with the whole "no more dreaming of the dead as if death itself was undone," but the opening bit "I have been held in some dreaming state... I realized it was you who held me under" really fits Perry.

Can You Handle My Love??: Elim Garak/Julian Bashir (Star Trek Deep Space Nine). With lines like "got a hole in my heart, gonna fill it with chemicals" and "I'm a freak and it's literal" this is textually canon. Also the line "I may be late but I still show up" reminds me of the scene in the camp after we already found Martok and then Julian just... shows up 😂

NPT: @chaniis-atlantis @tiltingheartand @aintgonnatakethis @anonmadsci @mx-seraph

@only-in-december @slightlydiabolicalfudge @girlscience @annwayne @all-mighty-yaoiyuri

I tend to just tag the last 10 people in my mentions, so please feel free to ignore both my over-achiever combo of taking this idea to a place it wasn't supposed to go and just me in general 😝 But if anyone feels inspired to share your songs and/or ships, please tag me I want to see!!!

[etherealising]

Hi Vee!!! I hope you’re doing well and congratulations on 1K woot woot <3! I was wondering what some of your favorite songs are right now and what are some of the songs that remind you of aiekoy currently? For me it’s definitely Pigment by HER, unthinkable by Alicia Keys, and Do4Love by Snoh Allegra both sonically and lyrically are what I usually listen to when reading aiekoy!

bestie bestie bestie…i hope you’re sat and ready for this presentation you’re about to receive. also the pfp is so cute i love that for you!! 🥰

firstly i am doing well thank you for inquiring, i hope the same could be said for you my love! also 1k wowie! most are bots and pages that don’t interact but we’ll take our wins where we can get them! please babe prepare yourself for this behemoth of a post! 💕

some of my fav songs atm are…

nothing matters - the last dinner party

this song makes me feel like i’m a witch in salem and my neighbor wants me hanged because he thinks i seduced his wife with witchcraft but we’re actually just two ladies in love

history of man - maisie peters

i’m a whore for greek mythology references and girly pop got me

rapstar - polo g

word for word bar for bar i could sing this song drunk

megan’s piano - meg thee stallion

dare say this is my hype song (could also sing this song faded out of my mind)

slow burn - infinity song

gives me 90s vibes and i love anything they put out (it inspired aiekoy chapter 12 heavily)

walk like this - flo

listen flo has been doing it right since cardboard box i don’t play about these girlies!!!!

the way things go - beabadoobee

i actually have a carmy one-shot based on lyrics from this song 🥲

songs that remind me of aiekoy:

only you - yazoo

i mean this one feels kind of obvious to me, it literally inspired this whole fic and without it aiekoy would have never seen the light of day.

cybah - syd/lucky daye

listen okay, this song just speaks to my sole and i promise you everytime i hear these lyrics i can see baby and carmy in my minds eye just going through so many different scenes its absolutely crazy. this song is just so intimate to me and it reminds me of the soft intimacy barby shares.

loved by you - kirby

this song is so carmy coded it inspired an upcoming interlude and anytime i hear it all i can think about is barby (mostly carmy) and all the scenes i have planned to write about in interlude 3. this song gives me very much carmy’s internal dialogue throughout this series and that’s basically what the interlude is as well. this song also really inspired me to keep writing this series when i was ready to just give up on it and idk it just holds a special place in my heart (also shoutout to s1e4 of the bear for introducing me to this song 😭)

ros - mac miller

i feel like this is so out of left field but it just fits! also very carmy coded imo just hearing this song immediately makes me think of barby and lyrically i just feel like it fits them almost perfectly (also heavily gives carmy’s internal monologue).

honorable mentions:

achy bones - ash the ghost

dark red - steve lacy

i like the way you love me - brenton wood

back in town - florence + the machine

bestie brattyb’s immaculate music taste:

pigment

literally gagged me, i was not ready for that! i love the mixture of singing and spoken word it was so beautiful and i feel like it balances the love and toxicity that can sometimes be present in relationships and it screams barby. you really put me on with this one bestie it was such a good choice!!!

unthinkable

a classic really miss keys rarely misses. listening to this song i could literally see scenes between carmy and baby playing out in my head which is always inspires me to write. like oh my goodness how have i not considered this song before this is literally barby’s relationship in a nutshell!

do4love

bestie you really have superior music taste. this gives me like the ‘missing’ years between carmy and baby. especially baby trying to move on and create a life outside of her love for carmy and her little Chicago gang.

i genuinely love you so much for all the constant support you have given me and this funny little series i decided to write, also thank you so much for participating in my 1k celebration your ask forced me to go through the aiekoy playlist and remember why i love writing this series so must and it has really inspired me to keep writing for aiekoy!!

please enjoy the long awaited playlist i’ve been meaning to share (apologies in advance there’s some random songs that def don’t belong and i’m too lazy to delete) 🫶🏽🤍

[callmearcturus]

aw yeah lets do this

S-Tier, AKA the Legitimately Good Tier:

HAWKEYE: Maybe my favorite MCU thing I have ever watched.

+ If you let Jeremy Renner actually act and give him a script, he's fucking great. + Kate Bishop is a perfect mess and I love her, I love she's young and excitable but also takes things seriously, she feels like she's a work in progress, I love her. + MAYA. Holy shit the gravity well of this character, how her presence dictates any scene she is in. Truly stellar. + This entire miniseries is like an extended apology for Hawkeye in every other appearance. "Sorry we dropped the ball with this character so consistently, we will bring the A game here." + The importance of disability. I'm among the ppl who was upset that Hawkeye's disability was dropped, so the way it is centered over and over and over in this, how its practical, how it's funny, how it's sad, how it gives us the most devastatingly emotional scene in all of the MCU yes I am talking about the phone call scene, finally. Fucking finally. + Florence fucking Pugh and her entire charm offensive. + The car chase scene.

- The first episode is unfortunately REALLY slow. - Nah that's all I got. I love this one.

THOR: RAGNAROK

+ "Asgard isn't a place, it's a people" is maybe the most poignant message any MCU film has ever managed. + Literally the funniest movie, but also basically a repair job of character building for everyone in it. + The camerawork in this one makes me so happy. + Tom Hiddleston is given so much to do and he's there with heels on, spectacular. + The giant turret/pegging visual pun, god bless. + Cate Blanchett can kill me.

- uuuuuuuuh. It's not as good as Hawkeye. Yeah.

GOTG Vol 2

+ Sorry but I am a GOTG Truther, I really do think its the one storyline in the MCU that is allowed to get away with really fucking intense character drama because it's not considered "main line." There is a reason ppl rioted when they tried to remove Gunn, and I'm with them. + The only good thing Chris Pratt has done since Parks and Rec. + The way this storyline centers on death and grief is devastating. + Rocket Racoon is the best character in the MCU and we all know it.

- I think the initial treatment of Mantis is REALLY rough even though in the end I think it works, but that's a hell of a hump to get over.

A-TIER, AKA the Great for a MCU Flick Tier:

BLACK PANTHER

+ My biggest problem with the MCU is the creative desert of its set and costume design, the way it feels like nothing is given time to breathe in the creative process. BP is the antithesis of that. I would watch a four hour documentary just on the visual design of this movie, from the architecture to the costumes to the make-up, everything. I don't want to hear from the director or writers, I want to hear four hours of just the craftspeople talking about their work. It's monumental. + Best Villain in the MCU, bar none. + Only MCU film to move me to actual tears in the movie theatre.

- I loved this movie! For the life of me I could not tell you the plot. I understand the plot of every Mission Impossible film but I don't know the plot of this movie. - If this movie was allowed to cut, like, 20 minutes of action and replace it with more character drama, it'd be the best MCU film.

IRON MAN 3

+ The MCU Movie That Pulls Exactly Zero Punches About Being About Mental Health And PTSD Holy Shit + Rhodey and Pepper get so much to do and I like an ensemble piece so much + Shane Black is in love with RDJ and I'm so happy for him + Pepper gets to be a lil monsterfied and that's hot

- Doesn't have Sam Rockwell. - The plot is kinda fully secondary to the character work, which imo is fine, but yanno.

GOTG Vol 1

+ All the stuff I said about GOTG Vol 1

- It's not Vol 2, which benefits from having all the bedrock foundation built by this movie to spring from.

B-TIER, AKA It's Fine I Guess:

IRON MAN 1

It's good! It invented the wheel! Part of it are fucking agonizingly painful to watch in 2023 but it also has more heart than 80% of the franchise so.

IN A CAVE. WITH A BOX OF SCRAPS.

LOKI

Okay it feels shitty of me to judge this one on its technical faults bc apparently it was shot during the pandemic and that causes a lot of the issues with the camerawork, the awkward editing, and just how Weird everything was put together. But also it's REALLY stilted and awkward, which butts up against the good script and the better acting, so IDK man.

Owen Wilson is amazing. Even my mother thought the way they canonized Loki being bi was a cop-out. And the final twist pissed me off. I hope Season 2 is better.

THOR 1

I DUNNO WHAT TO TELL YOU, BUT KENNETH BRANAGH UNDERSTOOD THE ASSIGNMENT.

DR STRANGE AND THE MULTIVERSE OF MADNESS

This movie is a mess but once i figured out it was trying to be The MCU Does Gothic Horror, I was a lot more on board. It has all the flaws of the original Dr Strange and is hard to visually follow like most MCU films, but also has America Chavez, who I adore.

IRON MAN 2

It has Sam Rockwell, I don't give a fuck.

C-TIER, AKA I wish I cared but I do not 8C

DR STRANGE

I dunno I like the actual character of Strange weirdly, I like what a complete fucking asshole he is, I like his god complex and how he reacts to his disability as a surgeon. On the other hand what the fuck is Tilda Swinton doing here, this is just awful. My biggest issue with this film is that it didn't have to be this terrible but every decision made about it feels so fucking thoughtless and myopic.

WANDAVISION

yanno. i cannot even explain why i fell off this so hard. Like, this one Had Me all the way up to and including the Agatha reveal, but like the final episodes after that reveal somehow left me completely cold and uncaring. it's genuinely weird.

D-TIER, AKA Oh my god no thank you

AVENGERS

I hate the writing. Like, I haaaaate the writing. I feel like the only likeable relationship in this is Tony and Bruce, and that does not carry this movie. The quip-driven writing, the way the need for a joke supercedes naturalistic voices and dialogue making sense, it pisses me off. I hate the writing. Heartless movie.

BLACK WIDOW

oh my god i'm actively angry at this movie okay because for the first 20 minutes, I was like "wait, is this going to be a real movie," because it felt smaller, the action felt more realistic, that fight between the Widow and Yelena in the beginning felt like it could have been out of MI: Fallout, and the other fight between Natasha and Yelena in the safehouse was also good, I really thought for a few moments that this could be Good

and then it just took a hard right into The MCU Tries And Fails To Make MI: Fallout (They Even Stole The Mask Gag, What The Fuck Was That) and not only was I disappointed, I was like retroactively pissed for the 20 minutes when I had hope in my heart. If not for David Harbour's character, I would have just left in the middle of this movie.

AVENGERS: ENDGAME

Its not at bad as Infinity War! Nebula and Rocket carried this movie on their fucking backs. But what do I know, I liked Renner's mohawk of sadness.

F-Tier, AKA Fuck This Movie

INFINITY WAR

Fuck this movie with a rusted steel dildo, fuck this entire fucking movie, I despise it. The writing is so actively fucking terrible I want to fistfight whoever is responsible. I fucking hate the attempts to humanize Thanos over how sad he is about the daughter he abused and then murdered, boo fucking hoo, I hate the joylessness of the superhero combinations, I hate the quip-driven writing, I hate this movie with a burning passion. This might be one of the worst movies I have ever seen. Soulless and destitute.

[warpedlegacywrites]

For the DADWC: "I drank every sky that I could," from the Florence + The Machine lyrics prompt list, for Dorian Pavus?

Happy @dadrunkwriting! Have an adorable scene of Dorian and Cullen hiding from a party at Skyhold and drinking on the battlements!

Dorian storms down the hall of Skyhold as fast as he can without looking like he’s hurrying. He estimates he’ll have maybe until the next bells before anyone notices he’s missing, and he wants to savor every moment of freedom he can. Much as he normally relishes the chance to be everyone’s favorite exotic curiosity, tonight’s crowd is especially voracious.  He pushes through the final door and emerges into the frosty night air, breathing the cold deep into his lungs. Yes, tonight is a night for solitude. Contemplative, constructive. Quiet.  The battlements are mostly empty, sparing the odd soldier on patrol. Dorian storms past all of their stiff salutes without so much as making eye contact. Perhaps his impending departure and proceeding journey home has lowered his tolerance for being the center of attention, but tonight he really just wants to be alone— He comes up short just as he rounds a corner and nearly trips over Cullen, leaning forward between crenelations, propped on his elbows and gazing out at the vast, white emptiness below. He might have anyway, at the rate he was going, if the foul-smelling smoke from his pipe hadn’t warned him just in time.  Cullen looks up in surprise at the dramatic near-collision, pulling the pipe from his mouth. He blinks once, twice, and then shock melts into wry humor.  “You too?” he asks. 

Dorian takes a moment to straighten and readjust his stance, trying to reclaim some of his laconic charm and cover up his malcontent. 

“I only needed a moment to catch my breath,” he says, coming around Cullen to lean with his back to the view and crossing his arms. “These people are relentless.” 

“Tell me about it.” Cullen’s eyes roll dramatically, and he returns to puffing at the pipe and admiring the view. 

Uh-oh. There’s that grumpy tone that Dorian has come to associate with the intrepid Commander’s darker moods. Even at a glance, it’s plain to see the broody shadow over his face. 

“You’re not about to hurl yourself over the battlements, are you?” Dorian asks, only half-joking. 

“Not yet,” comes Cullen’s flat response. 

“Good. The Inquisitor would be so disappointed in me if I let you deprive her of another dance.” 

“What’s disappointing is how difficult it is to find a good Fereldan ale tonight.”

Josephine had left standing orders that not so much as a single hops leaf be allowed within sniffing distance of the main keep, where it might offend the delicate sensibilities of a few dozen of her little Antivan merchant court. 

“That’s because ‘good Fereldan ale’ is an oxymoron.” Hmm. Can an oxymoron be more than two words? Ah well, Cullen’s not likely to care. 

“Don’t tell me you actually prefer that syrupy mess they’re serving in there?”

Dorian scoffs. “I should hope you think better of me than that.” And he pulls forth from the folds of his robe the wine bottle he’d managed to smuggle away from one of the servants. And by smuggle, he means bribe. 

It’s a bottle of clear cordial made from some type of winter night-blooming flower Dorian only vaguely recalls are called something like “snowbells”. The label reads “Blissard” – a pun so terrible it should have landed its crafter in prison. But judging from how protectively the servant was hovering around the cupboard where it was stocked, Dorian is fairly certain it was well worth the loss of his second-favorite ring. 

Cullen glances at the label with one eyebrow raised in curiosity. “Is that one of the bottles Josephine has been so paranoid about? She better not catch you with it.”

Even better. “Catch us, my friend. I’m making you my partner in crime tonight.” 

He and Cullen share a grin as he pulls out the corkscrew he’d grabbed on his way out. The cork gives way with little trouble, unleashing a pleasant if sharp scent that reminds Dorian of flower petals. He takes an experimental sip, and immediately his tongue is awash with something dry and pinpoint-sharp, a cold burn that he feels sliding smoothly down his throat. A bit like drinking the sun-kissed sky in the midst of winter. 

He makes a pleased sound, and hands it to Cullen, who hesitates. “You’re really going to turn your nose up at this when you’ve already burned off half your taste buds with that?” Dorian points with his nose at the pipe. 

Cullen smirks, and takes the bottle, challenge accepted. He lifts it to his nose and sniffs, giving it a thoughtful frown, before taking a pathetically small sip. “Mm, that’s actually not bad.” 

He hands it back, and they trade it back and forth for a few rounds. Soon, Dorian can feel its effects tingling pleasantly in his extremities, and the relentless mountain winds don’t bother him nearly so much. It’s not the sort of thing they’d serve in Tevinter, and… surprisingly, that’s exactly why he likes it. 

Tevinter wines are so dry they’re more like scorched earth than sun-kissed flora. Which he normally quite enjoys – “a vintage that’s as sharp as his wit” is his favorite joke at parties. Where else will he be able to sample such a wide variety of flavors, from so many different skies? 

Vishante kaffas, he’s waxing poetic again. Usually a sign of melancholy. Better continue to drink about it. 

“You leave in the morning?” Cullen asks, in a deliberately casual tone. 

“That’s right.” Dorian takes another drink. “Within a fortnightI’ll be back to civilization at last. I can almost taste the sweet air of the Nocen Sea already.” 

“Have you said your goodbyes to Tess?” 

That’s the cordial – Cullen almost never lets his pet name for the Inquisitor slip in mixed company. Theresa never seems to mind when he does, though. 

“Haven’t had the chance yet. She’s been waylaid by Josephine’s cadre of accountants most of the night. Supposedly, it’s absolutely vital to the future of the Inquisition.” Dorian allows himself a sly sideways glance at Cullen. “I think she’s avoiding me.” 

Cullen smiles knowingly. “Don’t take it personally. That’s her default maneuver when avoiding her feelings.” 

“Oh, I take it as a compliment. The longer she avoids me, the more she’ll miss me.” 

“She’s not the only one.” 

Dorian gives him a skeptical look. “Andraste’s arse, you’re not about to get sentimental on me, are you? Because I’m suddenly strongly reconsidering sending you over the battlements after all.” 

Cullen laughs outright. “You wouldn’t dare risk Tess’s wrath.”

“I already risked it when I told her I was leaving.” 

He’s met with a canny stare. “Are you sure it’s her who’s doing the avoiding?”

Dorian’s breath hitches for just a beat, but he recovers quickly. “You see? This is why I’ve got to leave. Far too many of you know me far too well. I need to return to a place where no one has the slightest clue what’s actually going through my head.” 

It’s as close as he’ll ever come to an admission, and Cullen seems to recognize it, reclaiming the bottle with a victorious grin. 

“Far be it for me to ever claim to know what’s going through your head.” He drinks, and hands the bottle back. 

“There’s a good man.” 

Yes, he’s going to miss this place.

[jerzwriter]

In honor of @choicesfandomappreciation's Year End Countdown, I have to give not one shout-out - but two to the brilliant, talented, kind, and too-good-to-be-true @rosefuckinggenius. These were the second and third pieces that Rose created for my Wake the Dead headcanon, and both moved me to tears.

We didn't really get to know The Sipes Family in canon, so I wrote a backstory to help us get to know them and better understand who Eli was when we met him in canon. In the process, I fell in love with each one of them.

Eli had nothing to remember them by, so I decided to have "Zoe," my MC, draw a family portrait based on his descriptions. Selfishly, it would also give me a visual representation of the family I had come to adore. I asked Rose to assume the role of Zoe, and she magically brought James, Florence, and David Sipes to life. I don't believe any other artist could have done it as well as she did, and this will forever be one of my favorite commissions.

Merely knowing how the family canonically met their demise wasn't painful enough for me. I had to write that missing scene. I was captivated by the emotion that would have taken place between Eli & David during their last moments together... the trauma, brutality, pain, utter grief, and pure love of that last moment needed to be captured, and there was only one person I trusted to bring it to fruition. I explained my vision to Rose, and she ran with it. I honestly wept when I saw the final commission.

As you'll see in my second post (coming right up!), Rose's talent brought me great joy in 2023, but it also touched my heart in a way I can't properly describe - and as the year comes to a close - I need to thank her for sharing her gifts with all of us. You're a blessing to our fandom and all others that you touch. If your talent and kindness alone weren't enough, you're badass and and do all you can to lift the LGBTQIA community. You jumped in to offer your services for @choicesficwriterscreations Pride Event, and I can't thank you enough.

If you're reading this and have not yet commissioned Rose, do yourself a favor and make that a 2024 resolution. You won't be sorry, and I cannot wait to work with you again, Rose! Thank you!

[agent-cupcake]

*read horrorshow the nth time*

do you have any fav horror movies to recommend?

I've probably recommended all of these before but here we go again with the bad takes! Wahoo! OFF THE TOP OF MY HEAD

The Exorcist - my most favorite horror movie ever. I don't think a lot of people find the actual spooky ghosty stuff scary (unsettling for sure) but the characters are next level and the production and acting are unmatched. Ellen Burstyn's performance as a mother losing her mind trying, and failing, to save her daughter is haunting. It also lead to me doing my best Greek grandmother impression whenever I say Dimi, so there is that.

Jacob's Ladder - an inspiration for the first Silent Hill, this movie portrays unreality as well as Perfect Blue. It's super disorienting and impactful, I watched it coming out of a project focusing on the Vietnam War and... yeah, it's pretty miserable. Although there is a lot of horrific imagery, t's a genuinely heart-breaking film in some places. The core of horror is trauma, right?

Hereditary - the ending is pretty scary, but the thing that stands out in this movie is how miserable it is. Like with the previous two I wouldn't recommend it on the fear factor, it's more of a character deconstruction through the lens of a horrifying situation. Alex Wolff's character is masterfully written and executed. Obviously I've never dealt with such severe trauma, but his response and mental decline is very relatable.

Midsommar - It's the cult movie. People say it's boring, I disagree, but it's not really scary either. More... uncomfortable. I love that the protagonist is already in such a vulnerable and destructive state. Like she's just not doing well. It's been a huge inspiration in my own writing, and Florence Pugh is lovely. Like with Anya Taylor-Joy, it was interesting to see her get so popular after being a contentiously reviewed horror movie.

Blair Witch Project - who hasn't seen this? It remains at the very top of the found footage genre for a reason, the entire thing is amazing. People say it's lost its luster with the oversaturation, but I disagree, the acting and style of the OG sets it apart.

The Witch - the first thing I ever saw Anya Taylor-Joy in before she was everywhere. Solid movie, it uses all period accurate dialogue. It's not my favorite from a horror standpoint, but the scenario alone is sickening enough to be a selling point. The dad character's actor has a nice voice, don't @ me.

Perfect Blue - there is nothing I could say about Perfect Blue that hasn't been said before, but it is a masterpiece. Watch it. If you like animation, if you like psychological studies, if you like feeling real icky, watch it. Just do it.

Se7en - more of a thriller I suppose, but it definitely works as a horror. It's up there with my faves and is another movie that's been an inspiration in my writing.

It Follows - I mention this because I was listening to the soundtrack, but its a beautifully shot film with a very strong aesthetic vision. It's the "demon STD" movie, which is dumb and imo pushes some really harmful narratives about STD's and I'd say that the far more impactful reading is sexual trauma.

Suspiria (2018) - I'm not one for body horror but there's a scene in this that just... woah. I've never seen the original but I know the new one is very different, and it's amazing. I might be alone in this but it's a shame Dakota Johnson is in such trash movies because I think she's so cute.

The Shining - another classic that must go on this list because it is, unironically, just that good. Shelley Duvall deserved better, that's a fact. That her performance was so fantastic is astounding to me. It's funny that people say that her reaction is unrealistic when that was her genuine reaction to being put in a traumatic situation. Amazing film, she is a star.

I'm definitely missing some movies but such is the way my brain doesn't work. Thank you for your time <3

[hannahwatcheshorror]

MIDSOMMAR (2019)

💁‍♀️Strong Female Lead

This film haunts me. This film portrays grief and I suppose how it can twist and change a person. But that is only one way to look at a very complicated movie. This film is an experience, I felt it in my core. 

(TW Suicide)

⭐⭐⭐⭐.5

We hit the ground running as Florence Pugh's character, Dani, rocks us with the news about her sister and parents (with the horrifying accompanying visuals that come up multiple times during the film) and I can still hear Dani scream sobbing. I can still see the look on her boyfriend's face (cause he was just about to break up with her but is now trapped). 

Then, they are in Sweden and it's mushroom tea time. The desire to fit in, sitting in my chair in the movie theater I felt pressured to drink and no one was even offering me free drugs in a scenic location. Things are okay at first when they meet the cult, as most cults seem, they seem nice! Until they watch the eldest of the group commit ritual suicide so as not to bring down the pack. On only their second day there. Yeah, that's a lot.

From there things really devolve a lot and get mad creepy. The drugs are flowing, the flowers are growing, tempers are flaring, visitors are disappearing… But there is such helplessness because of A) the size of the cult, B) being in a foreign country, and C) lack of faculties from being constantly high and hallucinating.

Then it's the ritual impregnation scene which was hilariously haunting but also sad though it does lead us to one of my favorite scenes in modern day horror: The group sobbing scene. The eeriness of the group sobbing scene sticks with me to this day. It is so hard for me to explain why this struck such a chord with me the first time it happens (because the finale is also group sobbing) but this one, just the women, it's so personal. It's Dani and the women who aren't part of the ceremony weeping about Dani's sorrows, feeling as deep a pain as Dani feels, which is terrifying in its own right, these people are unhinged. But Dani is sort of about it. She has spent all her time crying alone up until this point and now, it's being welcomed and joined.

And finally, while I don't think that the boyfriend deserved to die for his transgressions (though cheating is for cowards and subhumans), Dani’s metamorphosis would not have been complete if she did not choose him as the final sacrifice. If she did not sacrifice the last bit of her old life. This is her death too. Her mourning is deep and heavy and real. I have a lump in my chest as I relive this scene. The chaos, death, rebirth, and beauty. Dani was gone. Only the May Queen remained.