#if i ever start writing music about how the music industry sucks take me out back and shoot me like old yeller its absolutely over for me

[glass--beach]

many reputable music publications have crunched the numbers and determined that the amount of adblock-free eyeballs glass beach could bring to them with one courtesy retweet is worth whatever meager sum they’re paying some poor freelancer to paraphrase our press release. i think thats beautiful and reflects positively upon my value as a human being

[neowinestainedress]

wave | lee donghyuck

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You simply couldn’t care.

Yet.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Oh, you can be sure I will.”

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

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

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

Haechan is going to find out.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Mind to explain?”

“I… I didn’t do it on purpose?”

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

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

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

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

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

“You think I did that on purpose?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Come in.”

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

“Mark, can you lower the music?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You’re just mad you can’t beat me.”

“I can,” he retorts smugly.  

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Grating? Really?”

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

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

“I am studying.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Would you mind?”

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

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

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

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

“What are you doing? I was kidding!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“So, anybody in mind?”

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

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

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

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

“Not yet.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Are you close, brat?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“It’s not smart of you.”

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

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

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

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

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

“I’m not.”

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

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

“So I know how to beat you?”

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

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

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

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

“We are not studying together.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yeah, but there should be a prize.”

“Being better than you is the prize.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Shut up, it’s not.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Haechan hates you.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Did you mistake our notes?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yeah, just not every…thing…”

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

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

“So you plan on being terrible tomorrow?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“With what notes?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I swear, I — I want to… I want to —”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I just replied.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“It’s a deal.”

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

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

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

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

“Not now.”

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

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

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

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

“Elaborate and change my mind.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You didn’t write anything down.”

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

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

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

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

“Can’t compare Vang Gogh to Picasso.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“No, you can’t come in,” you say.

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

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

“Is it really that small?”

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

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

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

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

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

“But you love it.”

“No.”

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

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

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

“And I’ll be at the library!”

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

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

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

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

“Want to go out with me?”

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

“Great, we’re going out tomorrow.”

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

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

“Where would you even take me?”

Haechan smirks. “It’s a surprise.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Hey, I appreciate almost everything.”

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

“You have a car?”

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

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

“Yes, I’m sorry I’m poor.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Wanted to take the metro?”

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

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

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

“You have a car?”

“No, I have a driving playlist.”

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

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

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

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

“Oh God,” he whispers.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Once,” you reply immediately.

“Twice, with the kiss…”

“You did that to shut me up.”

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

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

“Unfortunately, your mouth ruins everything.”

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

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

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

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

“And attracted to honey.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Now, lyricist… I try, sometimes…”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I have some notes to edit and —”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Haechan, what are y—”

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

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

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

“You really think I fucked Professor Kim?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yeah?”

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

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

“What if they lock us inside?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yeah, until you forget everything.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Leaving,” he replies, shrugging.

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

“What? Are you wet? Do you want me?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You take a deep breath. “I hate you.”

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

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

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

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

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

“Stop mocking me!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Eager, honey?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yeah? And who’s that?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You’re not the professor so…”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yeah, would he fuck you better?”

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

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

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

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

“He seems —fuck— fitter than you.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You chuckle, deciding to believe him.

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

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

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

“They locked us in!”

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

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

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

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

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

“No,” you say resolutely.  

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

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

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

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

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

You can’t believe you followed him blindly.

Your hands are still intertwined.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You laugh, humming. “Oh, I know.”

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

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

“Are you hinting at something?”

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

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

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

“Do you?” He winks.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

I played with your heart.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You roll your eyes. “Really?”

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

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

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

“That’s a crazy choice.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Oh, don’t test me, baby.”

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

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

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

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

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

Haechan shakes his head, waiting for you to talk.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yeah but —”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You don’t get what he means. You don’t even know what he could mean by that given the nature of your bond, but his words, mixed with the sultry tone of his voice, are enough to make you come. You barely register the orgasm, hitting you like a singular explosion of a firework, leaving you gasping, exploding as quickly as it came yet slowly running through your bones as the feeling tones down.

Haechan snickers softly. “You love it when I get in trouble for you, don’t you? Even when it’s just a promise.”

Your lips part to reply but he shuts you with a kiss. “No talking, not unless I tell you to. I know everything I need to know, your body tells me that,” he says, grinning like an idiot when he shows you his cum coated fingers, tapping them against your lips, silently ordering you to taste yourself. You would never do that, but tonight it’s like he’s commanding you like a puppet on a string, and you obey. Closing your lips around him and sucking hard.

He smirks, feeling his dick get even harder as he stares at your lips. “That’s what I do to you, pretty girl. And I’m not even started.”

Your pussy throbs in anticipation while he pulls his fingers out. You know he’s one to keep promise, and you can’t wait for what’s to come. But he’s taking too long, and you can feel his hard dick against your leg, so your hand creeps down to touch it.

“You’re not in command tonight, angel,” he says, grabbing your wrist to stop you from moving your hand on him.

“But I want you,” you whine, trying to win him with a pouty look on your face.

It doesn’t work as he pushes your hand over your head and leans in. “Patience, princess. Keep quiet, don’t be greedy and just trust me. Can you do that? Or is it too hard for you?” He groans against your ear, making your hips buck up.

“I — I can,” you whisper but he stops with a glare and your brain replays his words ‘quiet, no words from you tonight,’ and he means it. So you nod, breathing in deeply as you feel weak in the knees for the way he looks at you.

“Good girl,” he says, pushing up to stand between your legs, pushing them open.

When he slips inside you, you gasp, dragging your nails on his back. “Are you alright?”

You nod, forcing yourself to look into his eyes.

“Good, and now,” he whispers, kissing your lips, and dragging out of you, “I want you to give into me and completely turn your brain off. You have me, that’s all you need right now.”

When he starts moving in and out, your body succumbs to the pleasure. Your muscles relax as you let him take care of you. His lips trace over your sensitive skin, leaving kisses on your neck and chest. His hands run over your body, touching and squeezing every inch. And he reaches so deep inside of you that you feel you can barely breathe.

“Just like this,” Haechan whispers close to your ear, gently biting the skin on your jaw. “Don’t think about anything,” he groans, hitting you deep after pulling out of you completely. “Not a single worry in that pretty brain of yours.”

You rarely let him win, but you have to admit that the way he makes you feel, the way he can lift all the stress off your shoulders, is a talent. He knows what he’s doing, and the scary thing is that he knows how to get you. So easily wrapped around his fingers, crumbling into nothing at his tiniest touch.

You whimper loudly when his fingers press against your clit, seeing stars at the new stimulation.

“You can take it,” he groans. You’re about to talk but he traps your lips in a messy, wet kiss as he pulls you closer by your waist, hitting even deeper. “You’re a good girl, right? You can take it.”

You’re doubtful, but you do take it, over and over again. You lose track of time and stop counting your orgasms after the third. There’s no need for that. All you need is the pleasure Donghyuck gives you, fucking you until both of you can’t do it anymore.

There’s nothing left once it’s over, no strength to talk or clean up the mess, just the warmth of your bodies cuddled against each other.

“Good morning, I will kill Lee Je — what the hell,” Renjun exclaims, entering the kitchen, making you turn around as if you’ve been caught stealing, holding the mug full of coffee in your hands and giving him a shy smile. “What are you doing here?”

You gulp, pushing your hair out of your face before coming up with a lie. “We studied too late.”

Renjun steps further into the room, staring at you with a raised brow before he tilts his head and studies how you’re dressed. You’re wearing Donghyuck’s sweater and pants.

“Oh, now they call it studying? Last time I checked you’re not med students, didn’t know music had anatomy in the program,” he taunts, grinning at you as he comes to your side.  

You choke on your saliva and don’t have time to come up with a reply because he strikes again.

“Oh, no, maybe you were exercising vocalization, it’s better when it’s done together, right?” He winks and you glare at him.

“It’s not what you think,” you lie, but honestly you feel so embarrassed about everything. You didn’t think anybody else would be up this early on a Sunday, but it’s clear you don’t know Renjun well. You could’ve left, but you didn’t want to. It was slowly starting to sink in that you didn’t like the solitude of your life anymore.

“Don’t worry, I won’t tell anybody,” he says, sitting in front of you. “Come here, don’t stay up.”

You do as told, and smile when he offers you a pack of biscuits. “I would’ve cooked something usually, but Jeno kept me up all night.”

You chuckle. “It’s fine, normally I don’t even have breakfast.”

“You don’t?” He gasps, and you nod.

“Yeah, just coffee.”

He looks down at you, shaking his head in disappointment. “It’s not healthy.”

“I know, I know, I’ll try to eat more, okay? For you.” You reach out your hand and he takes it.

A fit of cough brings both of your gazes to the door and you see Haechan stand against the frame. “Once it’s Jeno, another time it’s Renjun. I bring you home to study and you flirt with my friends.”

“Drop the bullshit, Hyuck. He knows,” you say, rolling your eyes.

Haechan’s eyes widen, but he slowly fakes indifference. “Knows what? That you don’t have time for a relationship so you can’t date him?”

“That you two fuck,” Renjun answers instead, making him cough.

“That’s not true,” he defends. “I hate her,” he says, laughing, but when he meets your eyes and sees them sadden, he feels pain in his heart. “No, no, I don’t hate her, but we’re… you know our relationship, why would we fuck?”

“Who’s fucking?”

“Not you, Jeno. Not you for sure,” Renjun says, rolling his eyes.

“Hey! Why do you always gotta be so rude,” Jeno whines.

“I doubt he’s not getting laid,” you chuckle, and Jeno winks playfully.

“See, words of a wise woman,” he brags, walking to the fridge to grab something.

Renjun sighs loudly. “A woman that doesn’t know you.”

“Would you fuck him?” Haechan asks out of nowhere and you glare at him.

“I just said that he’s hot and smart, I don’t see how he can have a hard time finding somebody,”

“’Cause he’s annoying,” Renjun answers, but Haechan’s not listening.

“I didn’t ask that,” Donghyuck says instead, his attention is all on you as if there’s nobody else in the room.  

“I don’t answer stupid questions,” you reply before sipping from your cup and drifting your gaze away.

“Wait, why are you here?” Jeno asks, only now realizing you’re not supposed to be at their place, not in the morning at least… wait… “Wait! Are you two fuck—”

“No,” Haechan answers sternly, glaring at him. “We’re studying. And it got late, so since we were closer to my place, I let her stay the night.”

“I thought you left yesterday saying you had a date, though,” Jeno says confused.

You chuckle under your breath before you feel Haechan’s hand wrap around your writs to pull you out of the room, not even giving you time to finish your coffee. “A studying date, and now drop it.”

When you reach his room, he groans loudly, walking to the closet to pick something to wear. You watch him move for a while, but then you can’t keep your thoughts inside your head anymore.

“Are you ashamed of me?” You ask and he turns around with wide eyes.

“What?”

“Am I something to be ashamed of? Do I don’t fit in the standard of the people you would usually fuck?”

He sighs, shaking his head. “No, I don’t want them to get invasive, they don’t let me live once they know something. And with you, it’s more embarrassing because of our history…”

You giggle, trying not to show the relief you’re feeling because, for a moment, you thought he was one of those types of men.

“Why can’t you ever make things easy for me?” He asks, annoyance in his voice. You have so much power over him, more than he likes to admit, and he feels like he can’t even be too mad at you about it.

“Sorry, it’s just, it’s funny having a history with you,” you explain. “My mortal enemy, always ready to steal my number ones, and my good grades.”

“You’re so annoying, you’re never sleeping over ever again.”

“Yeah, ‘cause I won’t let you fuck me ever again.”

“Liar,” he says. “And now move, I’ll drop you home.”

you can find part two on my account on the story masterlist or haechan’s masterlist (i can’t link it because if i do the post won’t appear in the tags)

general taglist: @froggyforhyuck, @wingsss45, @tddyhyck, @technologyculturedneo

fic taglist: @hcluvie, @gusgus0517, @multifandomania, @413cl, @odgsuji,

@hey-hey-heybitch, @nctrawberries, @n0hyuck, @haechoshi,

@girlwholoveslpreppyattire, @viciousdarlings, @hyuckmoon,

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[egoistars]

FIRST KISS pjsk

what ur first kiss was like with the future world star

writing + hc ：crack, mentions of blood, tsukasa tenma is a DUMBASS (affectionate)

TSUKASA TENMA

you hid your mouth with your palm as you let out a long yawn after walking through phoenix wonderland to go home with your bff forever tsukasa. the sun was beginning to set, red and orange hues washing through the stray clouds like strokes of vibrant watercolor as they bled into the purple of night.

it seemed that the blond had just finished a musical solo on stage as his fellow crew members were clapping for him, sitting in the front row of the wonder stage. tsukasa heavily panted, a proud smile on his face while his hand was placed on his chest.

"[name]! you just missed the best part!"

"best part as in you running off tempo like four times?" nene muttered, getting a laugh from you and an faux offended face from tsukasa.

"whoops. i guess i'll have to visit another time and see for myself."

"OH! RIGHT! i haven't even explained to you the plot to this months show!" tsukasa excitedly dragged took your hand and dragged you with a disgusting amount of force ( how the hell did some lame ass like him have this much strength? you don't know ). "so basically, i, prince pegasus the eighteenth of the rainbow kingdom comes face to face with a rebellion from my people because the fairy dust st industry has been failing and very out of character for me, i've done nothing to help. can you believe that?!"

"that must be so humbling for you," you teased. "about time."

"what the hell?! anyway, turns out the head fairy, played by nene, does not have enough musical power to produce fairy dust from her singing because music has been lacking amongst the fairies! and emu, who's part of the rebellion, demands that my royal orchestra play for the fairies and in the end, the kingdoms fairy dust is restored and BAM! happily ever after!"

"goddamn how many plots does rui pull out of his ass?"

"...is that a compliment?" tsukasa blinked.

"don't worry about it," you quickly divert, causing tsukasa's mouth to momentarily open in protest, but quickly close. "you should sing something from the play for me. i want to hear what you guys wrote."

"HAHA! anything for my loyal fan."

"on second thought, i'm leaving."

"wait! stay! i'll sing!" he yelled after you. clearing his through twice before quickly running through a scale to warm up.

the song was a soft ballad, the lyrics written witj poetic artistry, portraying the feelings of a prince with regret. this song seemed to take place during the emotional climax of the play where tsukasa's character snaps out of his arrogant and selfish state of mind, realizing how much his people are suffering and begins to break. you've always admired how well tsukasa portrayed extreme emotions in his acting and if you were any meaner, you'd say he reminds you of those shitty tiktok povs where you have a limited amount of farts or something but being the best friend you are, you kept your mouth shut.

the song came to an end and this time, it was you who had their mouth dropped open.

"holy shit i could make out with your voice right now."

his brain SHORT CIRCUITED

smth up there fried and died right in the moment

my boys eyes went blank and stared at you for a good minute before he literally FLUNG his tall ass body at you and crashed his head into yours

man was in autopilot

you thought you broke your nose

your lips hurt but hey!!! shut up!!! stop complaining!!! future world star is literally kissing(?) you be grateful

but bro he was passionate

eyes squeezed close, sucking the hell out of your lips

he doesn't know how to kiss

tsukasa is not a star, he is a black hole trying to swallow you whole starting from your lips

you were planning to contact true crime podcasts for a new case

he only pulled back after he felt smth warm dripping into the kiss and turns out his nose was bleeding 🧍‍♀️

you laughed in his face

bro was too embarrassed to care and ran away like the pussy he is to shove a tissue up his nostril

dw u kissed him later but properly

tsukasa now has a note in his phone titled "days since i kissed [name] and how idk where our relationship lies: 1"

"i'm impressed you were able to kiss them but not ask them out. that's kinda funny tbh. loser behavior" - rui in the wxs groupchat later

[zephyr-rat]

2023 Final Games Ranking and Thoughts

Heya folks. This is just a ranking of games that I have played and personally enjoyed, similar to last year.

Overall, I'm very mixed this year. While we had some fantastic games, there seems to be a lot of terrible games that I did not play including Redfall, Silent Hill Asension, Gollum, or anything GameMill entertainment has made. Additionally, this was the year the game industry had the most layoffs after both the Pandemic bubble and the Live Service bubble bursted. Luckily I didn't touch any of the really bad games; most of the games I've played were decent, but I do hope the games industry actually gets their act together in the coming years. If the Game Awards this year was any indicator, they won't. So here's my list, counting backwards

13) Baldur's Gate 3: I highly respect this game's writing and extremely open gameplay systems, and from what I heard from DnD and RPG fans, its very faithful to DnD, but god does onboarding new players suck (I never played DnD or a Larian game in my life).

12) Convergence: A very frustrating game that, as a fan of Zaun and metroidvanias, I was hyped for. The gameplay is inconsistent, going from some of the most fun combat to just bullet hell nonsense. The rewind just feels like an extra life for how much the developers said it was designed to be more than that. Also, this has to be the worst story of any Riot Forge game. Most of the champion cameos felt worthless, they butchered Camille's character, and they didn't advance anyone's character or story. At least the art's pretty though. -------------------------- GAP------------------------------- 11) Song of Nunu: A very cute game with mostly okay and functional gameplay. Willump is super cute. My biggest complaint is that the ending didn't advance Lissandra's story that much given the events that actually happened, making it feel rushed and somewhat incomplete. I also think this game will probably be the representative of what I expect from Riot Forge stories. They star the characters you love in a different context, allows you to explore the world of runeterra, and advance the main character's arc BUT they will not advance too much. The status quo still lingers over us all.

10) Have a Nice Death: A cute roguelike-metroidvania with a beautiful artstyle and sometimes comedic writing. The gameplay feels solid with decent combat and powerups. That being said, there is some gamefeel and balance issues that can get annoying. Some weapons just do not feel good to use at all and there can be ALOT of visual clutter with all of the effects running around

9) Stray Gods: Extremely good visual novel story with a very unique take on greek urban fantasy with fantastic Worldbuilding and thought. Good artstyle and general staging. My biggest complaint and why its not ranked higher is simply because the music wasn't memorable. For a game that markets itself as a musical, that's a pretty big flaw

8) Cassette Beasts: An actual modern take on Pokemon that beats Pokemon Scarlet and Violet out of the water. It has a great doubles combat system, a unique typing system that forces players to think, and a lot of interesting story hooks and mysteries for the world it creates. If Pokemon Scarlet and Violet made me jaded about these types of games, Cassette Beasts revitalized my interest. I still think it needed a bit more polish and the ending felt a bit sudden, but overall a good game.

7) Street Fighter 6: The first game in the new modern generation of fighting games and its a very promising start. Modern controls and a very substantial storymode to onboard newer players with extreme mechanical depth with the drive gauge system for older, pro players. I think this might be the best launch Street Fighter has ever had.

6) Super Mario Wonder: A super mario game that made mario feel fresh and polished. It has extremely fun co-op with really cool game moments with the wonder flowers, albeit a bit short-lived. It has extremely fun co-op that I was able to play with both my sister and my dad, who never plays that many games.

5) Mageseekers: A game that adapts Sylas kit extremely well and actually gives the mages of Demacia a legitimate voice against the Mageseekers without having to sugarcoat the horrific warcrimes of a fascistic anti-mage state. There some gripes, but this is definitely the best Riot Forge game currently. Also Jarvan the 4th should not be king.

4) Pikmin 4: An incredibly polished and engaging gameplay loop that was hard to get out of once you find yourself in a flow. It was relaxing to just command Pikmin and watch them do your orders. It singlehandedly made me a Pikmin fan and I'm excited to see more of the franchise.

3) Little Gator Game: An incredibly cute game that's a perfect duration for what it offers. It's not a long game, but I was always charmed by the fun writing and solid movement tools. The ending even made me tear up.

2) Zelda - Tears of the Kingdom: This is essentially an expansion pass of BotW, but goddamn is it a fantastic expansion. The bosses are better, the resource crafting is cool, the machine creation allows a lot of creativity, and the world is still fun to explore. The ending is extremely climactic and satisfying with a decently solid fantasy story. This game has a lot more flaws than #3 and #4, but I admire the ambition and craft on display.

Hi-Fi Rush: This was easily the GotY for me. It has an extremely fun rhythm mechanic that works extremely well for the 3D style beat-em-up. The Saturday Morning cartoon artstyle is breathtaking with a witty, comical story to perfectly match its tone. The audio engineers deserve all of the awards for this work to get everything to bop to the beat. The music is not good on its own, but when you play the game, its fantastic in motion. Easily best art direction, best game direction, and best audio design for me.

[hangovercurse]

The Things We Can’t Tell Pete About

Pete invites you to meet his friends from The Dirt and makes you promise not to flirt with any of them, which is a lot easier said than done, especially when Colson Baker acts like that.

Request: “Hey so I love all your writing and I just thought you should know that! But also I’d your requests are on still would you mind writing a youre Pete’s little sister but kells got a crush xx”

Colson x reader

Warnings: Drug use, Cursing

A/N: I know, Dom (Yungblud) wrote the song, but also I am the writer and I say that Y/N wrote it :) Anyways, enjoy. This is only part 1 of what is probably going to be a fun, cute lil series. Also thank you to the anon who sent this! You made my day(s)

Word Count: 2411

| ii | iii | iv | v |

masterlist

New York was lonely without your brother. He had been filming in New Orleans for the past three months, leaving you alone. You had some friends, but Pete was your best friend. You were only eight months younger than him and practically attached at the hip. You supposed going through trauma together would do that to people.

He facetimed you all the time from set, updating you on things in his life, showing you cool stuff from the set, and introducing you to his castmates. You had kept him updated on your music, playing him demos of songs you were writing and getting his opinion on them.

Him being away wasn’t the worst thing in the world, but it definitely sucked for you. So, when Pete texted you that he was having a few friends from the movie over the night he got back, you were ecstatic.

Before you left your apartment to walk to his, he texted you.

You’re not allowed to flirt with any of my friends

You rolled your eyes as you locked your door, preparing a response.

I’ll try my best

Your phone buzzed seconds later.

I’m serious. I don’t trust any of them with you.

And I don’t need that kind of awkwardness in my life

Like if you date one of my friends and it goes badly

I don’t wanna deal with that shit

You chuckled at his chain of texts.

Don’t flirt with your friends because they’re dicks, got it

Don’t worry bro, I know the sibling code

 You came to find out that that was a lot easier said than done. When you walked into his place, everyone in the room turned to look at you. You recognized most of them from your facetimes with Pete, but you doubted they remembered who you were. One who did remember you was Colson, Pete’s new best friend. He made eye contact with you from across the room, a sly grin on his lips. You sent him a small smile, Pete’s text running through your head briefly.

You found your brother lounging on the couch, a huge grin on his face. He was definitely tripping on mushrooms. “Y/N!” He yelled. “This is my baby sister, everyone.”

You rolled your eyes, walking further into the room, grabbing a drink from the cooler, and taking an empty seat on the opposite couch. “I’m less than a year younger than you, Pete.”

You heard a snicker from the one of the guys, looking over to see Colson covering up the smile on his face. “But you’re still younger than me so it counts.”

Everyone went back to their own conversations, which you were thankful for. “Y/N, you remember Colson, right?” Pete motioned to the blond guy.

“Yeah.” You nodded, looking him up and down. His muscle tank exposed the sleeves of tattoos, which seemed to cover every inch of his skin. “Your hair was different, but yeah I remember you.” You opened the beer on the coffee table, taking a swig.

“You’re the musician, right?” He asked you, leaning back onto the couch.

You nodded, “Aspiring musician but, yeah.”

“Oh, she’s great. You should hear her sometime.” Pete butted in, grinning like an idiot at you.

You rolled your eyes but had a smile on your face. “I work primarily as a songwriter and editor right now, but I’m trying to work on putting out some of my own stuff.”

You felt a little intimidated talking to Machine Gun Kelly about music, seeing as he was one of the best in the industry, but he seemed to be genuinely interested in your work. “Well, if you ever want some help or someone to listen to it, I’d be willing.” He flashed a smile, his bright blue eyes sparkling.

“Thanks, that’s really cool of you.” You bit your lip slightly, trying to hide the fact that you were totally breaking Pete’s rule.

Pete sent a glare your way to which you raised your eyebrow. You weren’t really flirting; you were just… making connections. “Anyways,” he cleared his throat, “I’ve been working on this sketch idea, Y/N, and I need your opinion.”

You nodded, letting him talk. “So, I was thinking like, there’s this guy with posters all over his wall. Like life size posters of a bunch of different people. And he falls asleep while doing homework and he dreams about them coming to life. And it plays out like one of those really bad commercials that encourage kids to stay in school and shit. Like the posters are telling him to study for his test, but then there’s this one poster that’s like, very sexy. And she’s just like, talking about hot dogs and everyone else gets really sick of it and one of the other posters tries to like, tear down her poster or something.”

Throughout his description, you got more and more confused. “Pete, that’s not funny that’s just fuckin weird.” His mouth hung open in shock. “Dude, seriously? The big punchline is the playboy poster girl talking about hot dogs until the other poster people get tired of it?”

“Yes.” Pete said, as if it were obvious. “That’s hilarious.” You glanced at Colson with a questioning look on your face. He seemed as unsure of the joke as you were.

“Pete, man, that’s not your best work.” Colson clapped him on the shoulder and you giggled at Pete’s disappointed expression.

“You guys are mean.” He pouted and you two laughed. “Ok, well, how would you make it funny?”

“I don’t know if you can, bro.” Colson’s laugh was contagious. When he laughed his whole body shook, his feet stomping and everything.

“What are the other posters?” You asked, trying to be supportive but knowing this wouldn’t turn out very good.

“Well, I was thinking maybe one is like a video game character. Like that lady from Wreck-It-Ralph. The mean one. And then like a snowboarder who is definitely high, and someone else, I dunno.” He shrugged, taking a hit from the joint in his hand and passing it to you.

“Okay…” You trailed off, looking at Colson for support. You brought the blunt to your lips, inhaling the smoke and bringing it down, letting the smoke leave your mouth slowly. You passed the joint to Colson, who gladly took it, a smirk on his face.

Pete looked between you two at the small interaction, a frown. “So, the posters,” he brought your attention away from the man again, “they’re all really serious about teaching this dude math. But the hotdog girl just keeps talking about hot dogs in like this really high-pitched voice.”

You watched the smoke fall from Colson’s lips, not fully paying attention to your brother.

“Yeah man, I think that sounds funny.” Colson told Pete, his eyes lingering on you for a little longer than they should have. “It could use some work but if anyone can make it funny, it’s you.” Colson punched your brother on the shoulder, but the look he sent you said the exact opposite.

You held in your giggle, taking another sip of your beer.

The rest of the night followed a similar pattern, you and Colson flirting and Pete trying to get in between you two. At one point, after a few more hits of weed and a couple more drinks, Colson brought out a guitar, insisting you play something for him. Where he got the guitar from, you had no idea, but you didn’t ask questions. Instead, you rolled your eyes, insisting that “if I have to play something, so do you.”

Everyone was too caught up in their own conversations to care about the noise, or too drunk. You started strumming, trying to remember the chords to a song you had started writing a few days ago. “There’s no lyrics yet, just a melody I came up with.” You blushed, feeling very self-conscious suddenly.

“Guess I’ll just free style to it then.” He chuckled as you started to strum, your fingers working the strings like they had your whole life.

The blond man closed his eyes, head nodding as you played and thinking of what to rap.

“Watch me, take a good thing and fuck it all up in one night. Catch me, I’m the one on the run away from the headlights.

No sleep, up all week wastin time with people I don’t like. I think, somethin’s fuckin wrong with me.

You smiled as he sang, watching his expressions change as he tried to think up the next line.

Drown myself in alcohol, that shit never helps at all

I might say some stupid things tonight when you pick up this call

I be hearin silence on the other side for way to long, I can taste it on my tongue, I can tell that somethin’s wrong.”

He opened his eyes, looking rather proud of himself. “I had some of those lyrics already, but I just changed ‘em a little. I really liked that.”

You nodded, “That was impressive.” You smiled, looking back down to the guitar when something hit you.

You began to play the same melody but pitched higher to fit your voice.

“Roll me up, and smoke me love

And we could fly into the night

You take drugs, to let go, and figure it all out on your own

Take drugs, on gravestones, to figure it all out on your own.”

You looked up to Colson, watching his expression change, his eyes wide. Pete had a proud look on his face.

“Pete, you are a sucky hype man. You did her no justice.” Colson hit Pete on the arm.

“Whaddya mean, I told you she was great.”

Colson looked over to you, a stupid smile on his face. “Seriously, that was fucking amazing. Like, we gotta write that shit out some day.”

You bit your lip, trying to stop the blush from reaching your cheeks. “Yeah, that’d be cool.” You were trying your best to keep your cool as Colson kept his gaze on you, but you were completely freaking out on the inside.

A little while later, almost everyone was gone except you, Pete, Colson, and Douglas Booth, who joined your conversation not long after your jam session. Pete let out a yawn, directing your attention to the time.

“Jesus, it’s already 4am?” You asked, a frown on your face.

“Why, you got somewhere to be, darling?” Douglas asked you, your face scrunching up from the nickname.

“I have a writing session at 11 am tomorrow. Or, today, I guess.”

Pete reached out to hit you in the head, playfully, which you dodged. “Go to bed, dummy.”

You shrugged, “I’m gonna be dead at it anyways, might as well keep the party going a little longer.”

Douglas rolled his eyes, patting your shoulder. “Be that as it may, I am ending this party and going home. Goodnight, guys. It was nice meeting you again, Y/N. Good to see you guys.” Douglas and the guys did that little hand slap and hug thing before he left.

“I love you both, but I will also be going to sleep. And you should too.” Pete stood up, stretching his arms out before giving Colson a fist bump and leaving to his bedroom.

Once your older brother left, Colson moved to the couch you were on, his arm falling over your shoulders. You looked up at him, raising an eyebrow. “And how can I help you Mr. Kelly?”

He chuckled, shaking his head. “I’m assuming Pete gave us both very similar talking to’s, given the glares you’ve been receiving all night.”

“You mean the “don’t flirt with my friends” talking to or the other one?” You tilted your head, a sly look on your face.

“That’s the one.” Colson laughed through his nose, an adorable smile on his face. You were both considerably high, but you still knew exactly what you were doing.

You moved closer to Colson’s body, “Well then I guess we’d better not do this.” You said quietly, leaning into him. “Or this,” You grabbed his jaw, inches from his face.

“Or this?” He whispered, connecting your lips. You smiled into the kiss, tasting the weed on his tongue. You adjusted your body so you were facing him, his arm that was once around your shoulder now wrapped around your waist.

His other hand grabbed your leg, pulling you up so you were straddling his lap, and your arms wrapped around his neck. His lips seemed to fit perfectly around yours, and you did all you could to keep yourself from moaning into the kiss as his hand began to travel up your leg.

Realization hit you like a brick wall, and you pulled away, your breathing heavy. “Sorry,” you muttered after a few seconds. You climbed off his lap, smoothing out your shirt. “We shouldn’t do that. I shouldn’t have done that.” You smiled awkwardly down at him.

He nodded, the same realization hitting him. “Yeah, that’s not the best idea. Sorry I wasn’t really thinking.”

You shook your head, cheeks still very red. “No, no, no don’t apologize. It was fine, it’s all fine.”

He nodded, looking down awkwardly. “I should get going.” He stood up, landing a little too close to you.

“Why don’t you just sleep here? Pete won’t mind and it’s a lot easier than going home.” You bit your lip awkwardly, taking a few steps back.

Colson scratched the back of his neck. This was a very different demeanor than he had before, and you found it very cute. “Are you sure?”

You nod. “I’ll get you some blankets and pillows.” You moved towards the guest bedroom, a guilty smile on your face. You moved your hand to your lips, feeling where Colson’s lips had graced you minutes before.

You came back to find Colson laying on the couch, one hand behind his head. “We don’t have to tell Pete about that, right?”

You shook your head, a small smile still playing on your lips. You put the pillow behind his head, watching his eyes as he watched your lips. “Stop looking at me like that or I’ll do something else we can’t tell Pete about.” You said quietly, watching him grin. You pulled the blanket over him, leaning down to be level with his face.

“I kind of like the things we can’t tell Pete about.” Colson chuckled, leaning forward to connect your lips again.

[vyl3tpwny]

why & how i make so much music

i got a question about this earlier and i answered it with a meme so i thought i'd actually answer this properly.

this is what happens when your hobby and your job are the exact same thing.

i experience everything as music and through music. whenever i have feelings and thoughts, i think about them musically because it's sort of terrifying to analyze those things purely with the objectively flawed words we have in our head. so first and foremost, i literally cannot examine myself emotionally without music.

the way i organize my workflow is so that i can get ideas down as absolutely fast as possible. things are always set up so that if i need to write something or play something, everything's ready to go. even when i'm hanging out with friends on discord or playing video games, i always have ableton open, my keyboard on, and my Bear note app ready for writing. it sounds stressful but it's not i promise. i can still relax and live my life even with all of that.

i discovered Savant's music around 2012, and since then he's been one of my biggest inspirations on the electronic-music side of things. he made me realize that i shouldn't ever limit myself to a style or genre just for the sake of it. and he also used to release like 4 albums a year. i saw that and was like "if i did that i could articulate all these feelings and stories and ideas in my head pretty often and reliably". so i let myself make as much music as possible. and what i release isn't even everything. for every finished song i have, there's a few unreleased songs/unfinished demos. (i currently have a backlog of like 20 finished songs that ARENT on any album project. and i wrote something like 125 songs for Fairytails and then narrowed it down to 40.)

i'm also able to release music frequently because i'm only limited by myself. i do all my own mixing and mastering, so i dont need to wait on engineers to finish stuff. i play all my instruments, do all my own sound design and arranging and vocals, so i dont need to rely on other people for that. i dont have a label or management telling me to do things (or not to do things) so i can put things out whenever i want, however i want, and on my own schedule. a lot of the reason some artists release music sparingly isnt because theyre not always writing music, its because their label is being super picky or their music is in a VERY LONG HAUL process of getting approval and release, etc. ive done music with other people and we'll finish a song and i wont see it released until like a year and a half later. the music industry sucks, so i just dont participate in it much.

i also used to think doing purely production and composition was easier than performing instruments live and doing real recording. but i found out that the more i played piano and guitar and did vocals, things got easier because that stuff is so much easier to get into a flow-state with than doing endless production and arranging. so the more instruments i played and more live recording i did, the faster my workflow became.

i dont limit my inspirations. i can listen to a song i dont like and still have ideas and inspiration from it, which will become an idea that gets turned into a song. sometimes i'll just go outside and listen to sounds outside and i always discover hidden rhythms and melodies even in the quietest natural settings. trust me, when you take the time to go out and just listen to the world around you, you'll realize how inspiring it is just to exist in it. go and pay attention to the everyday sounds and atmospheres that you usually just block out mentally or with headphones or something. i love to ride the bus and public transportation, it's probably one of the best things for my mental health. every single time, i can hear the way the windows shake, the way the wheels pass over bumps and gravel, its music. there are rhythms and feelings hidden in things like that, and when you start to hear music in the world around you, the more compelled you feel to make music and be a part of that world too. you can even find inspiration from watching a completely unrelated youtube video or reading an article. everything is inspiring. i love that about life.

its also important not to worry about perfectionism. i think thats the thing that held me back the most for a long time was worrying about if something was perfect or if i was """""""better than someone else"""""""". trust me, i used to be super competitive and kind of a dick about it, anyone who knew me like maybe before 2017 can tell you as much. but i eventually came to hate that mentality, music is absolutely not something to be competitive about imo. i think the music industry makes it so that its tempting to do it that way, but music is so free and creative. its important for everyone to learn from each other and share ideas rather than gatekeep them and think that one person is better than the other. and its important to just make music and try not to make it perfect. because perfection doesnt really exist, so youre gonna be chasing an ideal thats impossible to reach. now i try to make music and when it sounds like it reached the idea i wanted to articulate, it's done. sometimes it's important for something to sound like it's filled to the brim with sounds and ideas and sometimes its important for a song to be sparse and understated. it doesnt matter, its your own music.

so ya!

here's a picture of when sylver and i were finishing Tales From Equestria (2017) :3 just because.

[johannesviii]

Top 10 Personal Favorite Hit Songs from 2021

A pretty solid year for pop music, all things considered, even if 2020 was juuuuuust a bit better. Outside of the top 100, however, some absolutely incredible stuff dropped this year, and it forced me to make the longest “unelligible songs” list I’ve ever had to make for these posts.

Also I can’t put Blinding Lights at #1 twice according to my own rules, but yeah. Yeah. Still can’t get enough of it.

Disclaimers:

Keep in mind I’m using both the year-end top 100 lists from the US and from France while making these top 10 things. There’s songs in English that charted in my country way higher than they did in their home countries, or even earlier or later, so that might get surprising at times.

No song that I already put on a previous list is elligible.

Of course there will probably be stuff in French somewhere on this post. We suck. I know. It’s my list. Deal with it.

My musical tastes have always been terrible and I’m not a critic, just a listener and an idiot.

I have sound-to-color synesthesia which justifies nothing but might explain why I have trouble describing some songs in other terms than visual ones.

So. Uh. Again. How was your 2021?

Still managed to work from home a lot. Still managed to not catch anything, miraculously. Had to deal with some heavy family drama, but I managed. Also this was the first year I spent without using my deadname for official stuff and yeah. The joy is real. I still miss concerts, and my friends, but hey, they need to stay safe too, so that’s okay. I drew a lot. A looooooot. And I wrote stuff, too. I can’t believe I’m actually writing stories even though “words” are still such a tricky thing for me as a general rule.

-

But oh boy, let’s start with the good or interesting albums that came out in 2021 or in late 2020, because um. Holy Shit?

Coldplay released Music of the Spheres. It’s... not great, actually it’s really bad, but I don’t get the hatred around it, and it has some genuinely excellent singles, and I’m sad none of them is elligible ; see you on the Unelligible Songs list!

I was never fond of Halsey, but the simple fact that Nine Inch Nails contributed to If I can’t have love I want power makes it interesting to me, and there’s some good songs on it (have you heard I am not a woman I’m a god? What a banger). I’ll take it.

Lil Nas X finally has an album, and it’s, of course, Montero, and it absolutely kicks ass, and I hope everyone who kept pretending he was a one hit wonder without any real skills is eating their words now. Because it’s everything I ever wanted from this artist. Too bad my fave song from it has to go on the Unelligible list.

Arca dropped not one, not two, not three but four albums and it was so recent my head is still spinning a bit, to be honest. I’ll talk more about her later, but yeah, for now: Kick ii, Kick iiii and Kick v good

Epica released Omega and I’m pretty much still trying to recover from it too, and the fact it’s in the middle of this list of good albums is very telling about the general quality of music this year. Here’s Abyss of time - Countdown to singularity, you’re welcome.

Sinner Get Ready by Lingua Ignota is impeccable and also absolutely terrifying. That’s it. Send tweet

Porter Robinson released Nurture and I beg you to listen to it in full if you haven’t already. It’s such a great album, with lyrics about overcoming depression and living your life, and struggling to make art but still pulling through, and I can get enough of it. So, so wonderful.

And yeah you expected this but uhhhhhhh Arca also made Kick iii and... excuse me? What is this? Who gave you the right to make that insane blend of musical genres and crank it up to eleven to make it sound almost as abrasive as industrial music? What the f█ck was that. Why can’t I stop listening to it. Why is Ripples so addictive. Why is the last track (Joya) so immaculate compared to everything before it. W H Y

For the life of me, I can’t decide which one of the two final albums I want to talk about is my favorite one, so yeah, f█ck it, you get two “best albums of 2021″. It was nearly THREE because uh, Kick iii exists, but it dropped in December and so it didn’t have as much time to sink in. I’m pretty sure it’s actually better than the other two, but uh. yeah.

The first one is Screen Violence by Chvrches. I swear, I tried to like their previous albums, and there’s a lot of songs I love on them - Under the Tide is one of my favorite songs of all time at that point. But yeah, no, the albums themselves never really clicked for me. And then there was Screen Violence, and I have no idea what happened, but that one clicked for me so hard I’m pretty sure I’ve listened to it half a hundred times since it came out this summer. How not to drown would top my list in a heartbeat if it was elligible. There isn’t a single bad song on that disc. What happened? I have no idea, but I’m so, so glad it exists.

The second one actually came out in 2020, but I only listened to it in full once the physical version dropped in early 2021, and it basically ruled my entire year. Because hi, I’m Johannes, and I have terrible taste in music, and Post Human: Survival Horror by Bring Me The Horizon had exactly ZERO RIGHTS to go that hard. Zero. None. Nada. What the f█ck is this. Oh let’s make an EP where like half the songs are about the pandemic, but with videogame references everywhere, make it sound like basically the entirety of the Scene from 2002 to about 2012, bring Babymetal and Amy Lee and Nova Twins and Yungblud because at this point why not, and just. I don’t know. Light it on fire while screaming “cringe is dead”, maybe?? Only two out of the nine tracks left my current playlist and one of them is an interlude. I think I listened to Parasite Eve and Teardrops on a loop for days. What the f█ck

Uh. Anyway.

-

Unelligible songs. You can see that part as a rec list, maybe? It’s extremely long, sorry. I really loved a lot of things this year, okay?

Let’s go.

I think I should begin this segment with things that were proper hits but didn’t land on the year-end lists, and Diamonds by Sam Smith is a pretty good place to start.

Monsters by All Time Low should have been way bigger than it was.

I was surprised and sad when I realised Drunk (and I don’t wanna go home) by Elle King and Miranda Lambert missed the year-end top 100, and not by much, at that. It’s a lot of fun.

Copied directly from my list of unelligible stuff from 2020: “I still entertain the vague hope that stuff from Machine Gun Kelly will chart higher in 2021 but I doubt it will happen so I might as well tackle it now and say that Bloody Valentine and especially Forget Me Too are both excellent and that it’s a shame radios aren’t playing them more often.” And yeah. I’m very annoyed they weren’t hits in 2021 either.

Coldplay. You all knew this was coming and you already know the songs but ugh, I really wanted to be able to put Higher Power and/or My Universe on the list. I’m a bit sad.

That’s What I Want is my favorite song on Montero by Lil Nas X and I was kind of hoping it would be a bigger hit. Oh well.

If you haven’t clicked on the I am not a woman I’m a god link in the albums list, here’s a second chance to hear an actually good Halsey song. To be honest it’s more like a NIN song featuring Halsey. I know right? What a weird year.

At the opposite end of the spectrum of recs, I Miss 2003 by As It Is pisses me off because I’m the exact type of sucker this was written for, and I know it, and I know I’m basically getting scammed, but I can’t help it. I love it. But yeah, it’s trash. I’m trash.

100 Gecs have a new song called mememe. It’s good. It’s no Money Machine but I’ll take it. Also you have to hear their remix of One Step Closer to believe it. Basically the ultimate culmination of twenty years of Scene culture. We’ve reached the highest point. It’s all downhill from here, folks

Run It by DJ Snake has no right going this hard.

I wanna be your slave by Måneskin has no right going this hard either.

Utopia by The SIDH. I’m not going to say anything else. Just: Utopia by The SIDH. Just click on the link. Please comment if you did, I really want to read some reactions to it.

Hey do you want more cringe. Because uh. I’m not a Vampire (revamped) by Falling In Reverse is great. And I hate the original version. And this one is a serious version, so you already know it’s worse. It still has one of the absolute worst lines in songwriting history according to, uh, me, and that line hasn’t been changed in the new version. But I swear it’s great. I’m not exactly sure why. But I swear it is

Musician by Porter Robinson. Amazing. Fantastic. Immaculate

Look at the Sky, also by Porter Robinson, might be even better? I don’t know. It makes me extremely emotional but also fills me with energy. I cried the first time I heard it. That’s probably a bit humiliating to say. Yeah. I don’t know either.

I don’t live here anymore by The War On Drugs feels like a song that always existed, but no, it’s from last September. What the hell. Who gave you the right to make something so great. Who are you

If there was any justice in the world, Introvert by Little Simz would have been recognised as one of the greatest songs ever made by now. So grand. So beautiful. So intense. Listen to it immediately

Placebo is back, and Placebo is still good, and I’m sorry there’s something in my eye. It’s called Beautiful James. And it starts with “bring me back to life, never let me go”. Yeah. Yeah

Stromae is also back?? And Santé is a song about essential jobs that are badly considered by society. And it’s GREAT. The fact it’s not on the FR year-end list is an outrage.

Prada/Rakata by Arca is beyond hypnotic and I didn’t mention it when I was listing her albums, so I might as well do it now.

Is this the point where I can start to list songs from Chvrches’ Screen Violence? I guess it is. So uh. Good Girls, for a start. Also, Asking for a Friend. And Final Girl which would be the best Cure-like song on the album if the absolutely immaculate How not to Drown featuring Robert Smith didn’t exist. What did we do to deserve this blessing

Okay okay now that I’ve linked some impeccable stuff I HAVE to get one hundred percent cringe on main and list a shit ton of Bring Me The Horizon. There’s Parasite Eve which I inflicted on a friend through our chat’s radio and which, according to said friend who has actual taste, “is... uh... certainly a song”, so you know it has to be great. There’s Teardrops if, like me, a major sucker, you really, really miss Linkin Park. There’s Kingslayer if... if what? If what, exactly? If you wish the second Death Note opening was a duet, maybe? If you want to hear a screamo yelp glitching so hard it makes me laugh every time I listen to the song even if I adore it? I don’t know. I’ll stop here before I recommend the entirety of Post Human: Survival Horror, maybe

Wait no Bring Me The Horizon also released a song that sounds exactly like a deranged version of Justin Bieber singing about dying for you, in increasingly more graphic and horrible metaphors as the song progresses, and I also love it to death. It’s called DiE4u and it sounds NOTHING like the previous ones I’ve listed from them, and yes, the title is written like that. It also has a hyperpop six impala remix called DiE6u. I wish I was making this up. What even is this timeline

-

It’s time for a round of Honorable Mentions for elligible songs, containing a couple of guilty pleasures, as it's often the case.

Alors la zone (Jul) - So bad. Sooooooooo bad. Extremely bad. Awful. Terrible. But it makes me laugh so hard. I can’t help it.

Cabeza (Oboy) - Basically, same here. But it starts with the line “Ils ont grave le seum quand j’bois mon Capri-Sun” (”They hatin’ on me when I drink my Capri-Sun”). What else is there to say

Rasputin (Boney M remix by Majestic) - This would be on the actual list if it was an actual, proper remix. But it’s nearly identical to the original song, so it feels like cheating.

Bad Habits (Ed Sheeran) - Oddly listenable for an Ed Sheeran song. Has one of the worst music videos I’ve ever seen, but yeah.

Astronaut In The Ocean (Masked Wolf) - I wish the lyrics made any sense. Like, at all. It’s very distracting.

Médusa (Landy) - Again, oddly listenable.

Wasted Love (Ofenbach) - Very good but missing something? I’m not exactly sure what, though.

Butter (BTS) - Dynamite was way better. Still good, though.

Take My Breath (The Weeknd) - Don’t get me wrong, it’s very good. But it was a pretty good year for pop music, ok ?

Happier Than Ever (Billie Eilish) - If I had better taste, it would be on the list.

Leave the Door Open (Silk Sonic) - If I had better taste, it would also be on the list. Alas, I am what I am.

And now, the actual list. At last.

10 - Beggin’ (Måneskin)

US: #66 / FR: #34

Yes, it’s extremely rough around the edges. Yes, listening to it makes my throat hurt. Literally. Yes, it’s not their best song by several miles.

Yes, it’s still above all the honorable mentions. I swear I’ve thought long and hard about it, and I stand by this choice.

9 - Therefore I Am (Billie Eilish)

US: #25 / FR: Not on the list

I’m not your friend.

That’s it. That’s my review.

8 - Industry Baby (Lil Nas X)

US: #24 / FR: #25

A lot of people seem to think that one is Lil Nas X’ best single. I just think it’s very good, and to be honest, that’s enough to land on this list. Bragging about your success has rarely felt more deserved, let’s face it.

7 - Save your tears (The Weeknd)

US: #2 / FR: #3

Nearly killed by the overplay, but not quite. Not as good as Blinding Lights or Heartless by a mile, though.

That mile still puts it above a shit ton of stuff on the year-end lists.

6 - Levitating (Dua Lipa)

US: #1 / FR: #10

And for the least surprising pick of all, we have Levitating.

And moving on.

5 - Starting Over (Chris Stapleton)

US: #53 / FR: Not on the list

I’m frankly baffled that what’s essentially a folk song has made its way so high up the US year-end list. Not that I’m complaining, because it’s absolutely wonderful in every way, and it’s sincere and touching and aaaaaa. It’s perfect.

Now you might say that if I had better taste, this would be number one on the list, and you would be absolutely right! But, uh, may I remind you I just recommended FOUR Bring Me The Horizon songs on my unelligible songs list?

So... yeah.

4 - Stay (Justin Bieber & The Kid Laroi)

US: #12 / FR: #21

This happened. I actually love a Justin Bieber song now. It also has The Kid Laroi on it, which should also make it worse. But no. It’s stupidly addictive instead. What the hell happened. Why.

Just for this, I’m glad I always give a chance to every single song I come across even if I usually hate their artist’s stuff. Sometimes, it pays off.

3 - Montero (Lil Nas X)

US: #9 / FR: #5

I’m under the impression the whole drama around the video half-eclipsed the fact that this is a terrific song. Listen to that beat. It’s insanely catchy even if it sounds like goddamn flamenco. How does that even work. I’ve had it in my head for months and it refuses to go away and I’m actually happy about that. And yeah, you might have noticed it’s even higher on the French Year-end list. So yeah, radios here loved it even more. What an earworm.

Also the lyrics are extremely gay. Which doesn’t hurt. Thank you for this gift, good sir. We don’t deserve you.

2 - My Ex’s Best Friend (Machine Gun Kelly ft Blackbear)

US: #23 / FR: Not on the list

You knew this was coming. I’m pretty sure some rotten tomatoes were saved just for the occasion. Because it’s Machine Gun Kelly AND Blackbear, Unlikable F█ckboys Extraordinaires, talking about girls and doing what’s essentially textbook punk-rock in a not-very-original way.

But consider this: as this post has already made pretty clear again and again, I have exactly zero taste, and I’m a massive sucker.

Also, this was my default number one until the French 2021 year-end chart dropped this morning, because uh-

Um-

1 - Cold Heart (Elton John & Dua Lipa)

US: Not on the list / FR: #49

Yeah. No. No way I could put anything else above that one. Not in a million years. Have you heard it? Why isn’t it charting higher on the other side of the Atlantic? What the hell are you all doing? Are you all okay?

It’s so immaculate I have almost nothing to say about it. I’m not even entirely sure I could have put Blinding Lights above it in good conscience if I didn’t have that no-repeats rule for my lists. They’re in the same ballpark of endless replayability and perfection, really.

Oh wait, I do have something to say about it: hearing Dua Lipa sing the line “I’m not the man they think I am at home” is free serotonin. Every. Single. Time. I want to stay in that joyful, peaceful disco universe forever. What a vibe.

-

See you next year! If my predictions from 2019 are correct, pop music should get even better somewhere around 2022/2023, so... yeah! I’m hyped.

[astranva]

Power BFFs.

// masterlist //

Word Count: 2.1k

Category: Fluff best friend!harry, best friend!reader

Warning: None!

Summary: In which Harry’s best friend is a hijabi blogger and they’re everyone’s bffs’ goals.

Bonus: Instagram posts!

..

For as long as you lived, you have always been into fashion. You were the kid who chose to wear pink with orange long before Taylor Swift’s dress was the new cool, always one whom family went to for advice when it came to putting outfits together.

Hell, if someone could pay you for the times your mom was on the phone with your aunt or a friend and you heard her tell them “Y/N can help you with putting the clothes together! She studies fashion. Yeah, not a doctor but she’s doing a good job” you would be a billionaire.

You remember how shocked your parents were when you told them that you wanted to switch majors. How could they not when you told them that you decided to leave med school for fashion?

But you wouldn’t have taken the step if it weren’t for your longtime best friend – Harry.

You and Harry have been best friends for as long as you could remember, having had been your friend long before you even wore the hijab and you remember when you were 16 after deciding to wear it, having sat him down one day and explained to him what it meant.

He has always been supportive of you, and you, of him. You lost count of how many times you had helped him with his wardrobe choices, and every time he was more thankful that he had someone who was daring with fashion and saw it as he did; a form of expression.

You had a good relationship with his fans long before you decided to enter the fashion blogging world, and maybe fans liked you more because of how carefree and natural you were and how innocent and supportive your friendship with Harry looked. Hell, he talked about you whenever he mentioned his family and if that said anything, it would be that he saw you a Styles, a sister.

It was always fun whenever you styled Harry for an appearance, only so the both of you could sit back and watch their tweets and comments, always freaking out and gushing over how good he looked because of your fashion choices, adding memes along the way.

“How does that look?” You asked him, holding a dress on a hanger of you, looking down at the vibrant green color.

Harry, with 3 shopping bags in his hands and his eyeglasses on, shifted his weight on one leg before bringing his finger to his chin and he looked at the dress. “Think it makes your skin look a little dull, not pop.”

“You think so?” You mumbled as you moved to a mirror, nodding, “You’re right. God, I hate green.”

He chuckled, “No you don’t.”

“Olive green is nice, when we’re talking about trousers and skirts but tops and dresses? No, thanks. Looks good on you though, you lucky bastard.”

“Watch out, you’re looking a little green now, love.” Harry teased, a dimpled smile on his face.

“Oh, shut up, I’m not jealous of you.” You scoffed jokingly, fixing your headscarf to avoid looking at him, “Maybe a little.” You added, laughing quietly as Harry laughed.

“I think they have a beige one, hold on.” Harry’s eyebrows were furrowed in concentration as he looked around before walking towards a rack, searching through the colors of dresses for the one color he knew his best friend loved. “Ha!” Harry smiled in triumph as he reached the color, getting your size before holding it out for you.

You sighed in relief, “You are an angel. Sometimes.”

Harry rolled his eyes at you with a chuckle, handing you the dress before you both agreed to pay and head somewhere to have dessert for a treat.

You smiled at the cashier, watching as her eyes widened as she looked from Harry to you. “How are you?” You asked politely.

“Oh my God. Y-You’re-“ She looked at you before looking at Harry who smiled at her, too, “And you’re-“

“And you’re Sasha. Hi, Sasha.” You giggled, reading her name from her tag, “You know this goof?” You joked, pointing at Harry, “Was following me everywhere here,” you cupped a hand around your mouth, though still speaking at a tone louder than a whisper, “Think he’s a bit of a creep.”

“Hey!” Harry whined but laughed, “Don’t listen to her, love. She’s only doing that because I look better in green.”

It wasn’t unusual for you and Harry to tease each other, and it wasn’t new either that you did it in front of people. Perhaps it’s why people enjoyed being around the both of you together.

“You’re both adorable,” the girl laughed, finally calming from her moment, “I’m a huge fan of the both of you. And Y/N, congratulations on your new collaboration with Tommy Hilfiger. I think it’s amazing that you’re helping in representing more people in the industry.”

Your mischievous expression changed to a softer one, your hand going to your heart as your eyes twinkled.

“Right? Bloody talented that one is.” Harry smiled proudly as he glanced down at you, “Making history as she goes.”

“Aw, stop it, you two. I’m going to cry.” You cooed, “Thank you, Sasha. This means the world to me. Think this made my entire week.”

“It’s no problem,” she beamed, “I wouldn’t let you pay if I owned the store but…” she frowned.

“Hey, no. It’s your right. We all have bills to pay and as much as it would be nice, favors don’t really pay the rent.” You smiled with a shrug, handing her the money.

“Okay, true.” Sasha agreed, packing your dress before handing you the bag. “It was amazing meeting the both of you.”

“You think it’s okay if we get a picture together?” You asked before looking at Harry, “Can you take a picture of us?”

“Yeah, of course.”

“Oh my God,” Sasha fanned herself before letting out a deep breath, shakily handing Harry her phone, “This is the best day I have ever lived in since I started working here.”

You giggled at that, watching her move from behind the cashier before she reached you. The both of you stood beside each other, you wrapping both arms around her as you smiled, her beaming as Harry took the picture – he took 3, just in case the girl didn’t like one of them – before you reached your hand out.

“Here, let me take your picture.” You said, taking the phone from Harry before exchanging places so you can snap a picture of him and the girl together.

As if to tease you, Harry made the same pose as yours, causing you to roll your eyes before you jokingly told him to “be original” to which he wrapped one arm around Sasha while the other was close to his face as he threw a peace sign – a classic Harry pose.

After hugging Sasha goodbye, you and Harry were on your way to his car to go somewhere else to have dessert and maybe spill the latest tea like you always did.

“I’m not so sure about working with them,” You said after taking a sip from your smoothie, resting your chin on your hand as you talked about a brand that had reached you for a collab, “Think they want it so they can look cool, you know? They don’t really care about the message or the representation of hijabi women and I just don’t want to get treated like the next cool trend and hey! Bonus for having a rockstar best friend. It’s ridiculous.”

Harry’s arms were crossed on the table, face showing concentration as he listened intently and nodded in understatement. “I get it. Sorry about that, love,” he sighed, “Wish I can do something about it. Feel helpless when I can’t seem to find any solution to offer.”

“Harry,” you rolled your eyes, “You’ve done enough for people. Besides, you’re growing and learning. This is the best solution.”

“Yeah?” He asked reluctantly, “Just sucks whenever I find the shit they write to you online. Don’t know how you do it.”

“What? Getting told that I’m oppressed even though it was my choice and the racist comments?” You chuckled a little, “Got bothered by it enough already. Just sick of justifying my choices. It’s like,” you thought before your eyebrows went up before pointing at him, “It’s like people with you and how you dress. The mean comments about your choices and the head-scratching comments about why you wear nail polish.”

“Took me long enough to feel comfortable in my skin.” Harry admitted, sighing with a shake of his head, “Wish people would just let people be.”

You shrugged, “Mean people are everywhere, it’s mostly about not letting yourself be one now. I actually feel like we’re at a time when people are unlearning most shit they blindly followed by older generations, the racism, the sexism, the double standards. This is generation is just,” you smiled, “It’s phenomenal, don’t you think?”

Harry joined in, giving you a smile and a nod, “It is. I’m where I am because of all these young people. Music legends are legends and are basically worshipped because of all the young women of their days. Sometimes I can’t even wrap my head around how societies belittle these people so much.”

“Right? They care more about shaping them than helping them unleash all this potential. It’s why they’re so angry sometimes, but so driven. Like, they had enough of silence and are now taking matters in their own hands.” You said, “But to be honest, it’s can be kind of sad sometimes.”

“How so?” Harry asked, sipping his smoothie.

“Like now you have people as young as 13 doing what world leaders should be doing. Really young people trying to teach older people why sexism is wrong and how they can help the Black Lives Matter movement and why they should. They shouldn’t be defending rights and protesting and dying, they should be worrying about their moms not cutting the crust off of their toasts or maybe some high school crushes. But it has to be done, you know? And if world leaders are staying silent, somebody needs to change that even if they’re only 13 for the love of God.”

That was the thing about yours and Harry’s friendship. While you both bickered like children all the time, you also always had heart-to-heart conversations that you couldn’t have with anyone and everyone. It was always comforting.

There were times when you didn’t agree with each other but it was never embarrassing or immature, you’d both state your point of views and find common grounds. It was never about winning an argument because you never could call it an “argument”, just a talk.

“How’s the tour rescheduling going?” You asked, the both of you drifting to another conversation.

//

harrystyles: Proud of you. Always.

..

fan0 CRYING

fan1 power bffs don’t @ me

fan2 are they dating? pls say yes

↳ fan3 when will people stop ruining friendships with shit like that?

yourinstagram are u sick?

↳ fan4 me when my family is nice to me

↳ fan5 me when my friends invite me to places

↳ harrystyles …

yourinstagram you know it all, H. you’re the best best friend anyone could ever wish for. cool photographer too. ❤❤❤

↳ fan7 HE TOOK THAT PICTURE HE’S SO TALENTED

↳ fan8 Hélène Pambrun who? We only know ✨Harry Styles✨

↳ yourinstagram don’t do my girl Hélène dirty like that

annetwist Looking beautiful! 😘

↳ fan8 I love this friendship sm

↳ yourinstagram says you! miss you loads xx

yourinstagram: harry out here looking like mr. pringles on a sour cream & onion can and i love it

..

fan0 HAHAH DEAD

fan1 ADHQWJDIEFIGHEFH HONTENT

fan2 y/n taking the piss at harry is my favorite thing

fan3 10 years of y/n giving us the hontent we need and deserve

↳ yourinstagram happy to provide

user aren’t muslims not allowed to drink wine?? why is harry holding one and why are YOU taking a picture of it? Lol

↳ fan4 leave her alone

↳ fan5 you know she’s free to do anything she wants, right?

↳ yourinstagram this is the amazing chef Massimo Bottura’s dark cherry balsamic vinegar but go off

↳ fan6 ENDED

fan7 This friendship makes me sleep better at night

harrystyles Is this because I look good in green?

↳ fan8 AJDGFKJWOI SHOW OFF

↳ fan9 I love them so much

↳ yourinstagram i dislike you sometimes

↳ fan10 ^ me because harry won’t release studio versions of medicine and anna

↳ harrystyles Love you, too.

 yourinstagram: silky

..

fan0 LOOKS LIKE HARRY’S OUTFIT FROM TOUR IN NETHERLANDS

fan1 imagine looking like that

fan2 this is an au where harry is a hijabi woman

[harrystyles liked this comment.]

↳ fan3 OH MY GOD HE LIKED

↳ fan4 he: confirmed

harrystyles A look.

↳ fan5 I want to thank the queen y/n for teaching harry online lingo

[kamilah-the-bloodqueen]

The Cafe Pt.2 (Rewritten Barista)

OMG I’m back with the shitty Kamilah fanfiction! I haven’t written for a while - let alone for this series since I took a writing hiatus to focus on my classes so hopefully there aren’t any plot holes and the fic doesn’t suck ass. I’m slowly getting back into my writing but I still have finals (Up until next April 28) but after finals I will be writing more consistently and will finish my current series and WIPs (I will post my WIPs list soon so I can hold myself accountable and also keep track of what I need to work on).

Pairing: Kamilah x MC (Amy)

Word Count: 3682 words (I am trying to write longer fics but I prefer quality > length so I will post when the chapter feel right however I aim for this series chapters to be between 3500-4500 words each) 

Taglist: (I know it’s been a while so if you’d like to be removed from the taglist just let me know - I promise it won’t hurt my feelings that being said if you’d like to be added to the taglist for just this series, my Kamilah x MC taglist or my perma tag - please let me know I’ll be happy to add you if I remember to even tag) @samanthadalton @beautifulandorganized @cloud9in @kwaj115 @hellyeah90sbaby @shows-simp-card @witchesplayatnight

Part I

“It’s...sweet and comforting,” her voice was soft as she spoke, Amy’s cheeks turning very red, “like you.” 

Amy felt on cloud nine, her eyes glued to Kamilah as she watched her walk to her car and speed away like some rich movie character. Amy closed her eyes, replaying the entire scene over and over until the soft jingle of the bell startled her. Zig walked in, his shoulders drooped low as he carried a large duffel bag in his hand as his backpack slung over his shoulder. 

“You look like shit Zig.” Amy jested before walking to him and taking the duffel bag from him, both of them laughing lightly.

“I guess the tides have changed since we went to Hartfeld yeah?” Amy snickered at Zig’s comment, recalling the time she and her friends had gotten so wasted they streaked through the quad only to be caught by the dean on their way back.

“I assume you’re leaving after your shift?” Amy placed his bag down and tossed him his apron, both of them moving to the front counter as Zig examined the cafe. 

“Yeah, we aren’t technically leaving until tomorrow morning but Kaitlyn wanted to run over some of the more technical things with us. I could probably convince them to let you come, you’d definitely spice things up.” Zig waved his hands in the air and stuck his tongue out as Amy tried to glare at him, before breaking into laughter. 

“And who would watch the cafe? The pigeons? Lily?” 

“You’re right, I still feel bad about leaving on such short notice-”

“I’ve got this Zig, trust.” Amy held her head proud as Zig rolled his eyes, making sure Amy saw him. “Jerk.” She nudged his shoulder as a tall handsome man walked in, it took Amy and Zig a moment to realize who he was as he adjusted his tie. 

“Adrian Raines? CEO of Raine’s corporations?” Zig’s head perked up as he approached the register, his suit was a steel grey, his hair a dark brown that resembled a fresh cup of coffee and his smile was so comforting and infectious Amy couldn’t help but smile at him. 

“You must be Zig,” Adrian reached a hand forward, his teeth were so perfect, so straight and white he could have been in a toothpaste commercial, “and you must be Amy. Kamilah recommended this place. More specifically she recommended your special coffee. I had to come see for myself - she said if she had ordered one for me, it wouldn’t have made it to my office.” His voice was soothing, comforting and satisfying - Amy wanted him to read a bedtime story to her.

Amy’s eyes widened as she felt butterflies in her stomach, her palms growing sweaty as she smiled back at Adrian, his deep brown eyes very similar to Kamilah’s without the intensity. Zig gently tapped her shoulder, nodding towards the coffee machine as he rang Adrian’s drink up.

“Oh! Right!” Amy hustled, she was excited that she had two major CEOs trying her special coffee, it was a subtle flex that she found satisfaction in. She leaned back on the counter as the coffee slowly spilled out of the brewer, the strong smell prompting Adrian to turn for a moment before continuing the conversation with Zig. Amy took a moment to take him in, after all, not everyone gets to be within such a close proximity to a major CEO. Amy hadn’t noticed how muscular he was, his posture was so irritatingly straight, his hands were smaller than she expected and she tried not to laugh upon that discovery. His hair was slickly combed back, and his eyelashes were longer than Amy’s and his body complex was just muscular enough to be seen through the curves of his suit but not so muscular as to resemble Dwayne Johnson. 

“This is a solid set up you’ve got for yourself Zig, you should be proud.” Adrian adjusted his tie to be straighter as Zig rolled his shoulders back with a proud smile on his face.

“It took a lot of work but it’s...something I have wanted since college. I’m sure you understand that feeling since you do run one of the leading technology companies in the world, not even just the United States.” Zig folded his hands into his arms as Adrian turned with a soft gaze, a twinkle in his eyes that Amy couldn’t quite put a pin on.

“Well I’ve had years to grow and create a base for myself, with the connections I have in other industries it was really only a matter of money and finding the right people to work with me.” 

“How long did it take you?” Amy finished his coffee off with a generous serving of caramel and stirred it gently as Adrian blinked at her. 

“A long time, I’m much older than I look.” He laughed and Amy couldn’t help but question why he was so vague, he was only 28 years old according to google. 

“You don’t look a day over 22.” Zig interjected as Adrian and Amy held each other’s gaze, Amy couldn’t help but question his eyes, there was something he wasn’t letting on and she could feel it in her stomach. She handed him the coffee and watched his expression change as the warm liquid met his lips. 

“I can see why Kamilah was so intrigued, this has to be one of the best drinks I’ve ever had.” Adrian’s phone rang with drumming that sounded like it was from a revolutionary war movie. 

“Strange ringtone.” Amy remarked prompting Adrian to smile and shake his head. 

“I love the revolutionary war, the fight for freedom will always be an admirable one.” He smiled at Amy before turning to Zig, “I need to head back to my office but I’ll be sure to invest in this cafe of yours, and for you Amy. Thank you.” He reached into his pocket and handed Amy what appeared to be $300. 

“No wait it was just a cup of coffee!” Amy tried to shove the money back into his hand but Adrian had already dashed out of the door, leaving Zig stunned with a smile and Amy baffled. “What the fuck. I will never understand rich people Zig.” 

“I mean hey, it’s a good tip and you need the money Amy. Now, about you watching the cafe, are you really sure you can handle it alone? It’s a tall order.” Zig furrowed his brows as he scanned the empty cafe, his hand reassuringly placed on Amy’s shoulder. 

“It would actually be a venti order, but I’m sure. You need a break buddy, I can see it in your eyes and you should be there for Kaitlyn and her band.” Amy placed her hand over Zig’s as two women walked through the cafe doors. 

“Alright then, now let’s finish the day.” Zig returned to the register as Amy began fixing the women’s orders. 

The day passed by slower than usual, Amy kept replaying her interactions with Adrian over in her mind, with Kamilah’s earlier remark fading as Amy questioned Adrian’s shadiness. 

“That could not have gone by slower.” Zig let out a long sigh and Amy watched the tension leave his broad shoulders as he locked the front door. “After today I don’t have any more doubts about that trip, I need a break.” 

“That’s all I’ve been saying dumbass, go on. You need to pack and I can clean up here tonight.” Amy joked as Zig looked around nervously.

“Amy this place is a mess, we were so much busier. I can’t leave you to do this by yourself.” Zig reached for the disinfectant wipes as Amy smacked his hand. 

“Get out of here and go pack or you’re straight.” Amy wiggled her brows at Zig who took a step back. 

“Oh fuck off. All the tips from today are yours though. You take all the tips or you’re a vampire lover.” Zig winked at Amy who rolled her eyes and pointed towards the door. Zig stopped and patted her shoulder on his way out. 

“Thank you so much Amy. I’m glad you’re working here and I’m glad we were able to reconnect.” Zig and Amy shared a nod in silence before Zig left the messy cafe to Amy. 

“Now it’s just me I guess. Time to play some music.” Amy smiled and pulled her speaker out of her backpack, putting “Sit Next to Me” by Foster the People on and showly shaking her torso to the beat. She held the broom in her hands and started sweeping to the beat of the song, her head shaking to the rhythm as she sang her heart out. She finished sweeping the floor and began washing the blenders and wiping down the counters, stopping every five minutes to dance to the chorus of whatever upbeat song was playing. 

“She wears short skirts, I wear t-shirts. She’s cheer captain and I’m-” Amy swung her hips around, the washcloth in her hands flying through the air as she swayed her head back and forth like a teenage girl. 

“On the bleachers, dreaming bout the day when you wake up and find that what you’re looking for has been here the whole time.” 

Amy froze like a deer in headlights as she turned to see where the voice came from - Kamilah was standing in the doorway with her arms crossed and a very amused look on her face as Amy slowly lowered her arms in embarrassment. 

“How much of that did you see?” 

“Oh no don’t let me interrupt you, please keep going.” Kamilah smirked and Amy felt a rush of adrenaline run through her. Instead of stopping and apologizing, she found herself hitting the play button and continued singing and dancing like Kamilah wasn’t even there.

“If you could see that I’m the one who understands you! Been here all along so why can’t you seeeeeeee, you belong with meeeee!”

“Standing by and waiting at your backdoor, all this time how could you not know babyyyy? You belong with meeee.” Amy blinked as Kamilah sang with her, the woman's voice was stunning and left Amy speechless as their eyes met in the dim cafe lighting. The way Kamilah’s voice sounded in combination with the low and heated gaze she had on Amy, it felt like she was just reading her thoughts out loud. In a flash Kamilah was standing in front of Amy, their bodies so close Amy could feel the woman’s warmth and smell her sweet scent as the music faded and Amy lost herself in Kamilah’s brown eyes. 

“You belong with me. Have you ever thought...just...maybe...” Kamilah’s voice slowed from a singing tone to a low whisper, she leaned close as the song came to its end, Amy couldn’t help but sing back to her. 

“You belong with me?” She knew it came out shakily, the subtle smirk on Kamilah’s face said it all as they stayed locked in the moment. Amy knew they weren’t just singing to Taylor Swift’s new album, it was unspoken words between the two of them that neither had the courage to previously say. Amy felt her heart speed up, her palms growing sweaty as she waited to see if Kamilah would sing back to her or not. 

“You belong with me.” Kamilah leaned forward to kiss Amy, both of their eyes fluttering shut as the music stopped and time came to a slow. Amy wrapped her arms around the woman’s shoulders as their lips almost met, before Amy’s ringtone blared from her backpack causing Kamilah and Amy to jolt apart. 

Amy rushed over to check the call, scanning the screen and reading Lily’s name made her less annoyed that her almost kiss was interrupted, but still not happy. 

“Hey Lil what’s up? Oh yeah, I’m sorry I let Zig get out early so he could pack so I’m not gonna be home til late tonight. I’m so sorry. Yeah. Oh that’s good, I’m glad! You can def tell me about it later. Yeah? Oh yes I gotcha, I’ll venmo you for the rent once I hang up. Yeah okay goodnight Lil.” 

Amy hung up the phone and opened her venmo, sending Lily the $550 for rent, completely ignoring the fact Kamilah had made her way close to her again. As soon as she put her phone back in her bag, Kamilah turned her back around to face her, the woman’s eyes sparkling in the soft lighting that surrounded them. 

“Kamilah, how did you get in here? We’re technically closed and Zig-” Amy was silenced by Kamilah dangling what appeared to be a copy of the cafe key. 

“I helped Zig fund this cafe, I can come and go as I please, I just prefer to make his life easy and stay out of his way. He said you might’ve needed help cleaning up tonight since you let him go, so I came to help you clean, but instead I found you giving a world tour with no audience.” 

Amy felt a blush crawl up her face, her heart pounding so loudly it rang in her ears as she felt Kamilah’s hand on her arm. She pulled her eyes away from Kamilah’s, unsure of if it was because she was embarrassed, scared, flustered or a combination of all three. Kamilah gently placed her index finger under the girl’s chin, softly pulling her to meet her gaze as she spoke slowly.

“You don’t have to kiss me Amy,” her voice was comforting and lacked the iciness it usually carried, “just say the word and I won’t come to the cafe while you’re here alone.” 

“Kamilah...I...it’s not that...it’s just...” Amy stuttered but leaned forward, unable to reach Kamilah’s lips because of her height. Kamilah leaned down, tracing her index finger over Amy’s throat as their lips softly met. Kamilah slowly took Amy’s lower lip in her mouth, sucking on it and prompting a soft moan to escape Amy’s mouth as she draped herself into Kamilah’s arms. Minutes passed by as their mouths remained locked together, only pulling apart so they could finish cleaning. 

“Come on Amy, let’s get this place clean so you can get home.” Kamilah picked up the roll of paper towels and began drying the blenders and stacking them neatly to Amy’s surprise. Kamilah was a powerhouse, which was something Amy had expected from her since she radiated power like a goddess, but it was her ability to clean so damn thoroughly that confused Amy. 

“Kamilah?”

“Yes?”

“I don’t want to sound rude or anything but-”

“How did I learn to clean so well for an extremely rich person?” 

“Yeah.”

“I wasn’t always this wealthy, and I still prefer to clean my own penthouse since there’s certain ways I like my things placed and kept. The safest hands are our own and I like to be self reliant. Cleaning also makes me feel quite liberated and I keep valuable artifacts in my home that I wouldn’t feel comfortable letting anyone else touch.”

“Oh, that makes a lot of sense. Thank you.” Amy spoke softly as she wiped the last chair down and stacked it. She turned as Kamilah slid her blazer back on and leaned against the door. Amy slung her backpack over her shoulder and grabbed the leftover pastries from the counter but stopped on her way out as she noticed Kamilah waiting for her by the door. 

“You don’t have to walk me home Kamilah.” 

“It’s 1 am in New York. I wouldn’t let anyone walk home alone at this time, besides it’s safer and I don’t think Zig would forgive me if something happened to you.” Kamilah lowered her voice to a faint whisper that Amy could barely make out. “And I couldn’t forgive myself if I let something happen to you either.”

Amy felt sparks up her body as she let Kamilah hold the cafe door open for her, before they both turned to lock it. 

“Well I’ll let you do that since you’re running this place for the next week.” Kamilah took a step back as Amy shakily locked the cafe up, letting out a relieved sigh. She started walking and felt comforted knowing Kamilah was with her, because she didn’t want to walk home alone in the dark despite her earlier remarks. They walked in silence, Kamilah staying close to Amy as they passed by the food bank, Amy tensing as she passed by the same alley that had haunted her ever since she saw glowing eyes that one time. She hastily made her way into the food bank, dropping the bag off with the receptionist and hurrying out the door to get back before anything else could freak her out. 

“Kamilah, how do you know Adrian?” Amy asked as they walked away from the food bank towards Amy’s apartment. 

“I handle Raines Corporations finances. Raines Corporation does all of their financing through Ahmanet Financial and so we’re good business partners but we found good friendship through the years.” There was something suspicious about the way Kamilah spoke, it gave Amy the same feeling when Adrian was asked about her age but she just could not put a pin on why she had this feeling. “Amy? Are you alright?”

“Oh yeah sorry, my mind went off on a tangent.” Amy stopped at the front of her apartment building, she turned to face Kamilah who basically glowed in the dark. The moonlight illuminated her features, her brown eyes shining brightly and her hair shimmering as Amy felt her breath catch in her throat. “Thanks for walking me home..not that I can’t handle myself but-”

“Of course Amy. See you tomorrow.” Kamilah smiled softly, placing a gentle kiss on Amy’s cheek before turning and disappearing into the streets, Amy sighing as she walked through the lobby, getting in the elevator and finally arriving at her apartment door. 

“Hey Amy, how was work?” Lily sat up from the couch, putting her PS4 game on pause as Amy collapsed on the couch next to her. 

“It was alright, I let Zig leave early so he could pack and I was cleaning and totally jamming out and Kamilah saw me but she joined me and we kissed…” Amy giggled as Lily squealed in excitement.

“OHMYGODD what was it like?” Lily perked up like a child ready for a bedtime story, her hands shaking as she waited for Amy to explain.

“Electric. God Lily I don’t even have words for it. My head was spinning and the world just fell away.” Amy swayed back and forth as Lily hugged her. 

“Well maybe you’ll have a date with her soon. Oh, I made beignets tonight, they’re on the counter! Let me get you some!” Lily stood up and rushed away, returning quickly with a beautiful plate of freshly made beignets covered in powdered sugar. 

“I swear you’re the best suitemate ever. Absolutely unparalleled.” Amy bit into one of the sweets, savoring the softness and sweetness of the perfect sweet treat. “God Lily this has to be your best recipe yet!” 

“Girllll no way, I saw this recipe for key lime pie that I’m dying to try this week.” Lily exclaimed as she pulled up the recipe on her phone, Amy taking another beignet from the plate. 

“You should go to a baking school or something Lily. Maybe open a bakery?” Amy suggested as Lily passionately explained the process of baking her favorite desserts. “Maybe you could bake for the cafe?”

“Nah, this is a hobby. I want to finalize my website for my computer business this week. But that’s a nice suggestion.” Lily stifled a yawn at the same time Amy did, both of them laughing at each other. 

“Damn so we’re both two tired dumbasses. It’s 3 am...we should get some sleep.” Lily suggested as Amy realized she’d only be getting a few hours of sleep. 

“You’re right. Do we have any energy drinks in the fridge though? I’m gonna need one before work.” 

“Yeah I bought more redbull and monster so you can take your pick, but I’m gonna crash harder than windows so g’night Amy.” Lily shuffled to her room as Amy did the same - collapsing in her bed and savoring the few hours of sleep she was going to get. 

-----------------------------------------------------------------

Amy arrived at the cafe 20 minutes before opening time, her bag in one hand and a redbull in the other as she unlocked the cafe. She put her bag down and started the opening process, the redbull slowly kicking in as the time passed by quickly. Just as she finished counting in on the register, the door jingled open and Kamilah stepped through the cafe doors. 

“Good morning Amy.” She smiled at her with those perfectly straight teeth and that damn irresistible smile. 

“Good morning Kamilah, here’s your coffee. Both ways.” Amy handed the cups to Kamilah, their fingers gently brushing during the exchange.  

“Amy...about last night…” Kamilah spoke softly, gently, in a sweet voice that Amy never expected from her. 

“Oh...did...you want to forget it?” Amy’s heart dropped, a deep pain forming in her stomach as she awaited Kamilah’s response. 

“No. I...I enjoyed it a lot.” Kamilah’s tone changed from sweet and confident to a shy and lower voice - was she flustered? 

“So did I...maybe...well if you have time tonight maybe we can do it again?” Amy suggested as she wiped the counter down. 

“I’ll be here.” Kamilah smiled, their eyes meeting for a moment before the jingling of the door interrupted their moment. “See you later Amy.” Kamilah waved as she left the cafe. 

The day passed by achingly slow, but eventually after several strange tik tok orders, a bunch of big wall street assholes and a few sweet customers the cafe was ready to close. Amy began cleaning the cafe, starting with just wiping the blenders clean as the door jingled, Amy turned and expected to see Kamilah - but it wasn’t Kamilah in the doorway. 

[zkfanworkweek]

ZFAW Fan Content Creator Interviews: HayleyNFoster

Hey everyone! We hope you’re all excited for ZFAW, and to honor (ha!) ZFAW’s commitment to supporting and celebrating fan content creators in the Zutara fandom, we’re going to be rolling out a series of interviews with well-known and widely-beloved content creators over the next few weeks. We’ve got artists and fanfiction authors, some names you recognize as well as a few phenomenal up-and-coming talents, and we can’t wait for you to meet them all!

For the second interview in this cycle, we have our best propaganda creator and this fandom’s hottest new artist/undisputed queen of the animatic, @hayleynfoster!

1. Tell us about how you came to ship Zutara. What does this ship mean to you?

When I was around 14 or 15 and caught Avatar: The Last Airbender on television, I was drawn in by the art style, the humor, and the wonderful characters. I caught the episodes out of order, and the first one I saw and wasn’t prepared to be sucked in by was The Waterbending Scroll. It intrigued me at that age, and the line “I’ll save you from the pirates” combined with the tension between Katara and Zuko in that whole scene was electrifying. I remember my teenage self thinking these two have so much chemistry! And when I saw a commercial on Nickelodeon that featured fanart submitted by fellow Avatar fans, I realized that I could do that to! So I set about making Zutara fanart for myself. I stumbled onto Youtube, practically in its infancy, and discovered that people set clips of Zuko and Katara set to music (And this was still in season 1 days… so people who made these amvs were the real mvps because they were able to make compelling narratives in their amvs with like practically nothing to work with!). The AMVs really spurred my interest in this couple, I remember distinctly one Zutara AMV using the Dido song White Flag utterly capturing my imagination. I found fandom shortly after, getting into deviantart and forums. But the ship really began to mean something to me when, as I was working on my drawings in the computer lab at school, a buoyant presence hovered over my shoulder noticing my Zutara art on the computer screen. The girl was someone I had never really talked to and had only seen from afar but she immediately started excitedly saying she shipped Zuko and Katara too! In this simple shared obsession, I made one of the best friends I’ve ever had and we’re still friends to this day. We would theorize and fangirl over Avatar like it was nobody’s business; we poured over bootleg San Diego Comic Con footage that showed spoilers for season 2 before it aired; we lost our freaking minds when we finally saw The Crossroads of Destiny. We had watch parties every week as Season 3 of A:TLA aired, and comforted each other when the show ended as it did (much ranting was shared). Those are some of my happiest memories from high school… all because this one pairing from this wonderful show. Even though Zutara didn’t happen, we still chat every now and then about it. Zutara will probably be a lifelong obsession, always bubbling under the surface. And without it, I would have never realized that animation was a viable career path. It really did inspire everything including the work I’m doing to this day in the animation industry. I owe a lot to this ship and to Avatar: the Last Airbender.

2. What inspires you to create zutara fanworks?

The resurgence of Avatar: The Last Airbender this year really helped sort of spark that dormant love I had for Zutara. The show’s ending still disappointed me on the rewatch, but Zuko and Katara’s relationship arc was as captivating as ever, so I turned to some fanfiction and looking at people’s pretty Zutara art and AMVs to just revel in fanon instead of getting to hung up on the actual ending of the show. But then I realized, with quarantine and my work load being pretty light, I had time to actually make all new Zutara art for myself, art I was never fully capable of making as a kid, but now could do with my 7 years of industry experience and just… life experience. And I was inspired to do some corrective animatics to satisfy my own desire for a different ending. I just really like exploring these two characters, doing different and interesting things with them, and frankly I’m inspired to make cute, fluffy, romantic art simply by virtue of living in a really sad and depressing world. Things are so crazy right now, creating art about two characters I love being in love, is comforting. And it helps to have inspiring music and amazing Zutara amvs to just sort of stir up my emotions and imagery in my head to make into animatics and art.

3. Be selfish - if you could request one fanwork based on your own art/fanfic, what would it be? What would you absolutely love to see someone create?

Ohhhh… Well, It’s always nice to have people write fanfiction that puts words to my animatics. I am not that great at coming up with dialog myself, so I’ve just chosen to indulge in visuals and emotions for my boards. But when I read things like RideBoldlyRide’s take on my Reunion Animatic, it makes me pretty giddy. (They finally have voices!) :) And this is the MOST selfish thing I could request, but I’m not shy about saying how much I love well done amvs, so I will literally kill for someone to make Zutara AMVs to songs I like… Like, most of AURORA’s songs but especially Exist for Love, Sunseeker by The Naked and Famous, Promises or Take Me by Aly & AJ, Adore You by Harry Styles, Human Enough by ONR, Never Let Me Go by Florence + The Machine, and/or Almost (Sweet Music) by Hozier just… I can see the AMVs so clearly to any of these songs in my head, but I don’t have the tools or skill set at my disposal to make a compelling fan video. When I was in high school, I originally thought I wanted to go into video editing simply because I loved making very crappy AMVs (they were so bad you guys), but I figured out being a storyboard artist was more in my wheelhouse. haha

4. Any words for people who are new to the fandom and/or nervous about sharing their work for the first time?

If you’re new to the Zutara fandom, just have a good time! Don’t waste too much time arguing with people over your shipping preferences. I wasted so much of my teen years having pointless shipping wars with people on DeviantArt, and I’m just so much happier nowadays because I’m just making Zutara art in my little corner of the internet, and honestly, in the politest of ways, I don’t give a shit if people don’t like my art or Zutara. haha I think that’s sort of a key thing for people thinking of posting creative works here in the fandom, just make art for yourself, satisfy your own desires for the pairing, get your creative sparks flying, and create just for the joy of creating. It’s always nice to get comments and such, but simply making the art should be what spurs you on, not the external validation. And have a good time, don’t worry too much - I say as someone who worries about EVERYTHING. But honestly, making art for A:TLA is some of the most relaxed I’ve been because I make it just for me. I’m lucky others seem to like it too!

5. What’s an idea for a fanwork that you have but haven't gotten around to making?

I have an idea for a second generation storyline with my Zutara kids that involves Kya (the eldest firebending daughter) falling in love with an airbender boy (tentatively named Gora in my headcanon who’s a bit of a rabble rouser and one of Aang’s kids he had with a Kyoshi Warrior), and then they start a socialist revolution in the Fire Nation in order to dismantle all of the hierarchical societies across the Avatar world… Together Kya and Gora Fan the Flames of revolution… ehhhhh... Get it?? Oh! Oh, and then Katara, who had put in legit liberal reforms in her time as Fire Lady listens to her daughter after resisting in the first part of the story, but then realizes she can actually play a part in the dissolution of the royalty and is also active in the revolution realizing that moderate liberal reforms are no substitute for a society free of serving royalty (which she had always been uncomfortable with but had rationalized with herself that she was doing good in her capacity as Fire Lady.) I just feel like there’s a lot of cool potential for discussing these ideas and also having some aspirational change in the Avatar world. lol For aesthetics and just happy fluffy times, I can indulge in Fire Lady and Fire Lord Zuko stuff, but really at the end of the day, I take issue with the structures in a society that have to exist for monarchies to exist. Soooo, I kind of want to do my own corrective story for that… if I ever have the time or guts. On a less ambitious note, I would love to do a Zutara sparring animatic to practice doing action, but I need a good story; I am not good at doing fights just for fighting’s sake. Those are just some things I have rattling around in my head.  

6. Are you participating in ZFAW? If so want to give us a hint as to your plans?

Yes! The most I can say is I have one animatic almost finished and one that’s still being thumbnailed. The rest are probably going to be comics or emotive single pieces based on the fanfics I really like right now. :)

[kythed]

synopsis: it’s a tragic case of boy meets girl, boy likes girl, girl has a boyfriend. [un]luckily for you, semi doesn’t play by the rules... and you don’t really want him to.

tagged: semi eita x reader, fluff, mediocre writing.

commitment level: 2,583 words.

table of contents | next chapter >>

They say young love is a rite of passage. They say it’s fresh and light, it’s wading in the shallows of a swiftly flowing river and letting the deliciously frigid water take you wherever it flows. They say young love comes easily. 

But they don’t tell you youth is not a remedy for pain. They don’t tell you the cold of that water burns your skin, too — it leaves your fingertips numb and kisses your palms an angry red. They say “it’s just puppy love,” but they don’t tell you puppies grow into wolves. 

+

You’re eighteen when you first meet Semi Eita, and he’s twenty-two. It’s not a highly significant age gap, but it’s noticeable enough. 

“She’s a baby,” he says, eyes grey as the southern sea and just as unforgiving. Though he’s young, the weight of an iron giant rests on his slender shoulders. 

“She’s talented, Semi,” says Akamine, tone wheedling. He fiddles with the lapels of his coat — it’s Italian, all cream silk and bronze buttons. “She’s capable.” 

Twenty year old Akamine Keo is a trust-fund kid, born into the arms of an oil empire he’ll someday fall heir to. He’s charming, clever, and sweet, with distinctly expensive good looks, fine features and black hair like raven’s feathers. He also happens to be your boyfriend. 

“That means nothing,” Semi says, peering into your face. An uncomfortable chill tickles the back of your neck as you fight the urge to look away. “There are toddlers who can shred Led Zeppelin, but they’re not musicians. They’re puppets controlled by overzealous tiger moms. They can’t take the heat of the real industry.”

“I can take the heat.” Your words bleed out heavy and sharp, a rough gash through the palpably thick tension. Fingernails leaving painful half-moons on your palms, you clench and unclench your fists down at your sides. “And I can sure as hell shred better than any toddler.”

For a split second, surprise flashes across Semi’s face, only to be quickly replaced by a wry smile. “Brave.” 

You stare at him, lips sucked in and eyes narrowed as Akamine slings an arm over your shoulders and presses a kiss to your temples. 

“See?” he says with a laugh. “She’s talented, capable, and brave.”

“Well,” says Semi, drawing the word out. He cocks his head, giving you one last hard once-over, before extending a hand for a firm shake. “We’ll see. I’ll give you two months. A trial.” 

You accept this compromise, returning the shake. Semi’s still skeptical, you can tell, but you make a vow to yourself — you’re about to blow this sonuvabitch out of the water. As Akamine crows in delight, Semi’s eyes don’t leave yours. 

Good luck, they seem to be saying. You’ll need it. 

You smile, and he smiles back. 

I won’t. 

+

Semi’s a phenomenal bassist. When you’d first started dating Akamine and he’d just joined Semi’s band, he could scarcely shut up about it — “His name’s Semi Eita, and I swear he’s got magic in those fingers, babe.” 

Well, Semi Eita’s about to be dethroned, because your fingers are magic, too. 

For those two months, you’re the band’s lead guitarist, and you pass Semi’s test with flying colors. It takes a couple weeks to fall into step with the other guys — Semi on bass, Akamine on drums, and a quiet college kid called Yasuda on keys — but you’re a quick study, and soon you’re a cornerstone, expertly weaving searing arpeggios of dashed dreams and fiery hopes up and down the band’s underlying tunes. 

(You should’ve seen it coming.)

You and Semi somehow become co-songwriters. He has a knack for melodies, and you have a knack for lyrics. Akamine doesn’t seem to mind the long hours you spend in Semi’s company, working in a whirlwind of messy notes and empty energy drink cans — he trusts you. 

(Sometimes you feel like maybe he shouldn’t.)

“What do you think of this?” Semi says, idly twirling a pencil between his fingers. It’s 10pm on a Friday night, and you’re stretched out on his couch, inhaling chow mein from a greasy paper box. “For the second verse, I mean.” 

“Lemme see,” you say around a mouthful of noodles, snatching the paper from his hand. You furrow your brow. “‘Tear me open like a scarlet letter, cruelly addressed ‘return to sender…’’ Jeez, Semi. Who hurt you?” 

Semi scowls. “It’s a breakup song, isn’t it? It’s supposed to hurt.” 

“You might consider being a little more… subtle,” you suggest, offering him a fortune cookie. He takes it and sets it aside.

“Heartbreak isn’t subtle,” he says, shooting you a look that speaks of throbbing phantom wounds. “It cuts deep. All the way down to the heart. Hence the name heartbreak.” 

“Wow. I had no idea,” you say drily. You swing your legs over the couch and sit upright, snatching his pencil. “I just think we should tackle this with nuance, not just write another ‘eff you’ ballad.” 

“This world can always use another ‘eff you’ ballad,” Semi says humorlessly, resting his chin in his hand. 

You regard his suddenly silent demeanor as he stares, unseeing, out the window. It’s dark outside, and it’s a darkness that speaks less of peaceful sleep and more of emptiness. 

You sigh, nudging him with your foot. “What was her name?” 

“What?”

“Her name. This demon of a girl that hurt you so badly.” 

For a moment, it seems he’s going to argue, to deny ever being afflicted with something so childish as lovesickness. Then he runs a defeated hand through his hair and shakes his head, laughing. “You’re too curious for your own good.”

You wait. There’s a brief, uncomfortable silence as Semi chews his lip.

“...Her name was Aiko,” he says finally, inspecting his nails with a faux nonchalance. “Smokin’ hot. Met her in music school three or so years ago, I think — she was a TA, a few years older than I was.”

“Older women, huh?” you tease. This is new territory — you’re dipping a toe into the forbidden arena of flirtation. A shadow of guilt creeps into the back of your mind as you think of Akamine, but the bright light of Semi’s crooked grin swiftly flushes it away.

“Yeah,” he says, leaning over to flick your leg. “I don’t date babies like you.” 

“Maybe you should consider it,” you say, unthinking. Semi stares at you, eyebrow raised, and you flush, frantically backtracking. “Not me specifically. I’m just saying — well, I mean, ‘cause this Aiko chick was such a bad time and everything.” 

“If you have a crush on me, just admit it,” Semi says. You’re sure it’s meant to come across jokingly, but the way he’s eyeing you twists your stomach into a pleasurable knot. Then he sighs, leaning back on his arms. “She was a great time, actually. It’s the ending that sucked ass.” 

The question lingers at the tip of your tongue, hesitant like an ill-trained acrobat, but before it even attempts the leap, Semi answers.

“It burned.” He looks straight at you, and you can taste the bitterness in his words. “It burned, and not a day goes by that I can’t remember how awful it felt.” 

+

That’s the first of the many secrets you trade with him. 

Later that night, you tell Semi about your first kiss, about how the recipient smelled like Old Spice and tasted like chapstick, how he walked you to your front door and introduced himself to your mom. About how he took your virginity six months later, and how you soon realized there are some things in life you don’t get an exchange receipt for. 

Semi tells you his favorite color is green, and that outer space scares him more than anything. (He doesn’t like thinking about life in other galaxies because he can hardly handle thinking about life right here.)

You tell him you like milk tea with 75% sweetness, and he promises he’ll take you to his favorite cafe sometime. (“Not a date,” he assures you, and you internally scold yourself for wishing it was one.)

He says he once accidentally kicked a stray cat while trying to find a volleyball he lost in the bushes near his house, and that’s why he considers himself a cat person now: as repentance. (He has a pet cat called Haru, and he shows you a picture — Haru is small and black with bright yellow eyes. You say he’s cute, but Semi corrects you: “Not cute. Fierce.”) 

You say you used to wish life had a restart button, so you could turn back time and dance through each year without making a single mistake.

Semi says he still wishes that. 

(Another thing they don’t tell you is how secrets are really currency. Secrets can’t help but pay for familiarity, and familiarity often leads to something more.)

+

It’s a couple weeks later when you have your first gig. It’s at a bar downtown, and Yasuda nabs fakes for you and Akamine, though you don’t plan on drinking. Not much, anyways. 

(Speaking of Akamine, your relationship with him has grown strained over the past month. He’s stretched himself thin between the band and his business degree, and you — well, whenever your phone pings, you can’t stop hoping it’s from Semi.)

Five minutes before show time, Semi turns to you, eyes wide. “We don’t have a band name.” 

“What?”

“We don’t have a band name.” He looks around, frantically trying to draw inspiration from something in the dimly lit bar. “Quick, think of something.” 

So you think for a moment, chewing your inner cheek, before reaching out and tugging on Semi’s sleeve. “Paper.”

“Paper?”

“Paper.”

Paper is fragile, it’s thin, it’s easy to come by. But it’s also a world of potential on one sheet, a story waiting to be written. 

When the bar owner walks onto the stage and introduces the band, you know you’ve made the right decision. And from the glittering smile Semi flashes you before nodding at Akamine to count you in, you know he thinks so too. 

The show goes on without a hitch, and even though the bar is far from packed, you’re just as proud as you’d be playing in a stadium of screaming fans. The air smells of stale whiskey and fresh beginnings, and as your fingers dance up and down your Gibson’s fretboard, you hear colors — rich teal, smooth mahogany, creamy gold and silver brighter than the stars. Akamine keeps the rhythm like a war drum, and Semi, as always, is perfect. Yasuda, doubling as the main vocalist, sings until his voice gets wonderfully low and raspy, keyboard taking some of the heat as he grins back at you, mouthing how badly his throat hurts.

You’re sweaty when the set’s done, and Akamine buys you a drink, giving you a quick, half-hearted kiss and a tired smile.

Akamine’s always been kind to you.

“I gotta go,” he says, squeezing your hand. “Essay due tomorrow at ten.” 

He looks so genuinely sorry to leave, you almost feel guilty. 

+

You’re packing up your amps into the back of Semi’s van, alone in the parking lot save for the moon many miles above, hanging bright and full in a clear sky. The moon has seen all your most indulgent sins, and she’s going to see one more tonight.

“You did well.” Semi heaves the last of the equipment into his truck before turning to you, wiping his palms on his jeans. “Consider me impressed.”

“Why, thank you,” you say, giving him a mock bow. “So glad I’ve finally managed to impress the Semi Eita.” 

He regards you for a moment, arms crossed. A small sigh escapes his lips. It’s both a sigh of resignation and one of anticipation. 

Then, in one smooth motion, he steps close, reaches out, and pulls you close by the waist. 

You stare up at him, all too aware of the heat radiating from his body. His skin is burning, and his cologne is different from Akamine’s — it’s not expensive, it’s not a multilayered, deep, woody scent. It’s cheap, the sort of cologne a struggling musician can afford, but it smells of home.

“Forgive me for what I’m about to do,” he whispers, sliding a hand up your jaw to cup your face. His hair glows silver and ghostly under the streetlamps. 

“And what are you about to do?” Your voice is deadly quiet, and your chest feels a deathly cold despite Semi’s proximity, refusing to thaw as you await his answer. 

“Kiss you absolutely senseless.” 

Semi’s never been one to make empty promises, and right now is no exception. He presses his lips to yours and you immediately melt into his arms, suddenly craving him and only him. You’re not entirely sure how you’ve managed to avoid devouring him whole up until this point, because he kisses like Eros, full of pomegranate seeds and crimson blossoms, of days spent in clandestine bliss. He kisses like a man on death row, desperate and longing, hands squeezing your waist like your body is his only anchor to life itself. 

Semi Eita wants to be a rockstar, but right now he’s just a boy kissing a girl he’s bound to fall deeply, inexplicably in love with. 

When he finally breaks away, you’re breathless, staring up at him like you’ve just seen an angel. Your hands are still curled in the front of his shirt, you’re still standing on tiptoe, lips just inches from his. 

“Semi…” You swallow hard. “Akamine’s a good guy… I can’t.”

Semi tenses his jaw, taking a finger to lift your chin. “Then why are you looking at me like that?” 

Your voice is barely above a whisper. “Like what?”

“Like you’re hungry.” 

He’s got you there. 

You’re standing on a balance beam splitting two vastly different worlds. On one side there’s the known: Akamine and his bright, blue-eyed optimism, his willingness to shoulder burdens he shouldn’t have to. There’s his sweet touch and soft kisses, his firm words of reassurance and his sunny laughter shedding light on your hidden depths. 

The known is comforting. It’s familiar. 

But on the other side… there’s the unknown. There’s Semi Eita in all his scalded glory, his sharp tongue and headstrong determination. There’s his burning touch, his fingers leaving scorch marks on your cheek and his lips depositing glowing embers in your mouth, ready to ignite at a single inflammatory word. There’s his moonstone enigma, the shadow underlying his every sentence like smudged eyeliner. 

The unknown is frightening, almost overwhelmingly so… but there’s something in you, something willful and terribly thirsty, that draws you to this unknown and the possibility of knowing it. 

“Because I am.” 

And you grab his face and pull it down to yours, impatient, frustrated by months of dancing around that painfully tangible attraction, that magnetism — finally, you allow yourself to fall, hurtling through a chasm of fallen stars and ancient suns, hanging on to nothing but Semi and his carefully guarded secrets. 

You kiss him hard, pouring your soul into his mouth, all your youthful doubt and hope. You knot your fingers in his hair, and he pulls you into his chest, pressing your body so close it’s as if he wants to make it a part of himself. 

And when you part for the second time, chest heaving, you know you’ve fallen completely, entirely, without a doubt. 

[bl-garbage]

to dance is to unshackle

um, okay—how else do i express this buoyant happiness that Gaya sa Pelikula has awoken inside me? i’m in complete and utter awe. i did not expect a drop of what the sixth episode has brought us. more than satisfying, it’s utterly fascinating. this is quite a lengthy post, but if you have the time, please bear with me. and since we’re already here, let’s fucking dissect the shit out of this:

right off the bat, it’s sweet how consistently written Vlad was the entire time of the show. at the start of the episode, for one, he was concerned with Karl’s disposition, saying, “anong iniisip mo (what are you thinking)?” and, later on, as we know, he pops that question again in this episode. what are you thinking? always in limbo. true, it’s considerate, yet more than that, it’s always a sign of waiting for permission. Vlad has been like this since the beginning: observant and willing to reach out, confident on the surface, yes, but always afraid of going overboard. 

that is not to say that Karl isn’t. in fact, the whole dynamics of their relationship rest on the fact that they can lean on each other and just be honest. many moments show this: Karl’s desire to shift; Vlad not getting  into the film lab and Karl knowing something was up; the entirety of Vlad’s birthday; Karl and Vlad’s reticence to open up to Anna, in contrast with how comfortable they feel with each other. in a nutshell, they’re each other’s homes. more on this later.

the part i was most frightened at with this episode was when Karl finally told his parents his desire to shift. to be honest, personally, i wouldn’t know exactly how that pressure on Karl feels, as i was able to study the degree i wanted. yet, back then, i had already known that my parents, who wholly supported me just the same, would have wanted a degree that leaned on science or engineering. that still sucked to know. Karl’s situation is much more complicated. his desire to shift to another course is to make up for lost time, a sense of hurrying before it really becomes all too late. this was a heavy lot to take in. the disappointment and anger in his father’s face when he dropped the bomb was too much to handle. Karl had expected it, yet its impact still hurled shrapnel that he was not able to dodge, sustaining him with several wounds. it would be curious to see how his parents come to terms with his confession. i am certain that a number of people have connected with Karl here.

which brings me to another point. Gaya sa Pelikula creates these characters with their own agency. it’s touted as a BL series, yes, but our two main characters’ point is actually not to fall in love — but to live, part of which is to fall in love. they have their hopes and dreams and own burdens to carry, and while falling in love takes centerstage here, we see how they can stand alone, on their own two feet. falling in love is central to their growth, but it is evident that love is not the whole point of their existence. 

speaking of which: ate judit. ah, yes, where do i even begin to explain the exquisiteness with which ate judit was written? how, after all of five episodes, it was only now did it make sense why judit was overly, unnaturally caring and protective, a mama bear that would not let anything happen to his little Vlad. now we know why: guilt.  

imagine that. being told you were the reason why your whole family went into shambles. there is much vindication in Vlad’s line of questioning, “why would you say that to a child?” (god, i’m tearing up even as i write this.) this was a pivotal scene, with a focal point on judit, the likes of whom we cannot entirely fault for not knowing any better. the fact remains that we are still in an era that fails to understand the spectrum of gender identities and the far utopia that we seek, where gender and sex would not be a damning classification anymore. and for true allies, it is in admitting that they “didn’t know then what [they] know now” that their support gains more strength. it is in confessing where they got wrong, how harmful their actions were, and in the commitment to do more, that their promise is made good.

parenthetically, can we talk about Vlad’s mom as well? have you all noticed how her voice broke when she said, “siguraduhin mong hindi ka na itatanggi niyan, ha (just make sure he won’t deny you, okay)?” was that pain, or guilt even? i wonder if we’re ever going to see her. it would be a regret not to. for so long Vlad had thought that he was the reason his father left, and that his mother was mad at his queerness. i wouldn’t want this simple call to be the resolution that the show had for him. at any rate, we have two more episodes to await, so i am not going to strike my gavel on this judgment just yet.

but whereas Vlad found his longtime coming reconciliation with his sister, Karl had no one to turn to. his call to Vlad was a cry for help. it was heartbreaking to see him like this. Karl had always put up a fake smile against any adversity that had come his way. to him, these were trivial matters that would pass, and they did so — until now. after all he was, as we would later come to know, living a script that had been prewritten before he even came to being. that explains his nonchalant demeanor toward life, the seeming discontent behind those dead eyes, and a repeated hinting that he was always yearning for so much more. at the end of the call, Karl instinctively goes to the closet - and his proverbial closet - and sees the skeletons he had hidden inside, drop in a mess. 

that it was Karl’s brother who was in the photo shook me. that past was so well thought out. things made so much sense in this episode: why Karl tried to fit in, why everything seemed so fake. why he was so discomforting to watch, even! that made sense now.  

and what do you do when everything has become a mess? the once seamless film that had been rolling without any glitches now sprawled on the floor, entangled in a hodgepodge well beyond fixing. when that happens, what do you do? well, you dance.

i have so many things to say about faux masculinity. it is a fact undisputed that in this society, gender roles are still very much pillars that we have yet to dismantle. our genders have been geared toward performativity, and our consolation is the external validation we receive through the acts of fitting in. in the process, we lose sight of what we really want. we blur the lines between what is and what should be, in favor of what society has demanded upon us. Karl took that role and lived by it religiously. yet, those things has gone haywire in this episode. more than his parents, it was to himself that Karl has finally admitted that the act can be dropped now: the fixed posture, those rehearsed lines, that painfully faux masculinity, on guard all the fucking time. all of those things were dropped.

that is not to say that Karl was faking all of it. there is no denying that Karl has been a masculine person most of the time. but the show portrayed before us a discarded femininity that Karl had been trying to bury deep inside him — one that all people who have been and who are still in the closet know by heart. the thing is, all of us have masculine and feminine sides, the expression of which vary at different levels in different situations. sadly, we have been preconditioned to believe that male persons must be masculine, and female persons must be feminine. Gaya sa Pelikula acknowledges this hegemony, and then throws it away all the same. true, Karl may very well be comfortable in his masculine expression, but his femininity must also be allowed to grow. one cannot be complete without embracing the entirety of who they are. many have died — been killed — for simply living who they are. society has long been a vicious environment. but people have also long fought for their fundamental right to perform these things, and through them, we know that things can change. that things are changing.

it is against this context that imprints more meaning, more gravity to when we finally, finally see Karl dance. in every sense, his dance was the show’s climax for me. it is, quite emphatically, freedom incarnate.

when i say i fucking bawled at this scene, you best believe it.

quite important to note: when Karl sees Vlad, he stopped abruptly, only for Vlad to signal to him, in an OK sign, that what he was doing was perfectly fine. that Karl could be effeminate all he wants, and who the hell in this earth should care? this allowance has given Karl all the needed validation he will ever need, at least, for that one night where they could bare it all. it was only the two of them, but the house has never been more crowded, because their feelings have seemingly exploded and have been overflowing in a glorious climax for all of us to witness. in this scene, Karl has unshackled the chains with which he had been bound all that time, and it was Vlad who helped him finally break the last of those chains. in this moment, there was only pure bliss.

(that the song playing here was Ride Home by ben&ben is the perfect giveaway. for non-Filipino readers who have only listened to ben&ben now, check this band out. it’s one of the best bands to have ever come out of the Philippine music industry.)

and, of course, in this waterfall of emotions, it is only perfect to time the moment of their first kiss. they have accepted each other, haven’t they? in a meaningful act (the gravity of which we will only realize in full later when Vlad tells the story of his dad), Karl rumpled Vlad’s hair, but only after Vlad had already consented to it. then, afterward, it was Vlad’s turn to ask, what are you thinking? to which Karl had this—and i know we all expected it, nevertheless—to say: i don’t want to think anymore. then they kissed.

i swear to god. i only watched this for the 92432475781 time.

the denouement was so well put, too: now everything is put back into its own place. Karl’s brother. his death. his parents’ expectations. the substitution. Vlad’s father. his parents’ expectations. the horror of realizing one’s difference. the abandonment. in these stories, it becomes more and more permissible to believe that Karl and Vlad have easily found comfort in each other. to say that they are soulmates (as the creator, juan miguel severo, told on his twitter) is not an exaggeration.

and, make no mistake: Karl and Vlad did not find each other’s embraces out of pity. no. it would be unduly harsh to view them that way. rather, they found solace in each other’s embrace and warmth, but it is still they who will muster the courage to face their own demons. the only difference is, they now have each other to find some sort of release. they are not destructively dependent on each other; instead, they help each other grow into the versions of themselves that they can be proud of.

finally, a couple of small things: look at the way Karl was inviting Vlad to lie in bed with him. that simple gesture harks us back to the early days of their dynamics: Vlad had expressed that it was okay to share a bed, but Karl was adamant that they do not. Karl had once dreamed of Vlad joining him there, and that scared him shitless. in contrast to that, now we have this: Karl himself inviting Vlad, and Vlad accepting for Karl’s wholehearted invitation. the moment this happened, there was a consummation of the expression of their love. if they had their doubts prior to this, those could not have been more obliterated now. 

needless to say, i fucking, fucking loved this. as one who has only ever written three fanfics (2gether and History 2!), all of which seemingly related to sleeping (what the fuck, do i have a sleep fetish or something), this ending to episode 6 is just the cherry on top. 

their lines by the end particularly strike me. here we have Karl who wishes to create his own stories. on the other hand is Vlad who wishes that he be in charge of the endings, too. how do they do that? who knows? but the certainty that defines their pact is that they shall do it together, unbound and free to dance to the song they have chosen of their own accord. and that simple promise, made in each other’s tight embrace under artificially warm lights amid that early january weather, with no certainty at all of what tomorrow has to bring, has made all the difference. 

in 34 minutes, Gaya sa Pelikula has, yet again, done more than we could have ever expected.

i just checked and this reached 2k words. i’m not even gonna attempt to proofread this anymore. anyway, this is all i have to say for now. i just simply cannot let go of the best episode i’ve seen in this show without expressing my own reaction to it. 

(also: i’m thinking of writing a fanfic; that is, the morning after. just a one-shot, hopefully a cute one. as usual, an introspection of these characters, and what lies ahead. hope i actually get to write it!)

thank you so much, Gaya sa Pelikula. you are proof that things do change.

[sindrafalcone]

Double Combo

Fandom: BIGBANG/ Choi Seunghyun x reader x Kwon Jiyong

Synopsis: Yeah, you read that right… 

Warnings: Smut… lots and lots of unapologetic smut (with just a little fluff, because I’m a romantic sap at heart). Please don’t read if you’re not 18+!  Also, this is not a GTOP fic. Not that there’s anything wrong with that, you just won’t find it here.

Author’s Note: I started writing this as just a story for myself years ago. Then my #1 decided to confess to me that she was having trouble with GD creeping into her Ultimate Bias spot. Naturally, I felt like I had to finish this & share it with her. Here you go @andperset​, hopefully you like it. <3

Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. This story contains fictional representations of real people. None of the events are true. This is from an American standpoint, so some of the situations may not happen the same way they might in Korea. I make no money from the writing of this fictional work.

Masterlist

When you woke up early Saturday morning the first thing you noticed was a pair of strong arms gathered around your waist and soft breathing against the left side of your head. Glancing down, you also saw what looked to be a black mess of hair resting on your chest. In your groggy post-sleep haze, you blearily realized that you had not only one, but two men lying naked next to you, one on either side. You tried your best to recall the previous night’s events. It took you a few moments, but then you came to the sobering realization that these weren't just any two random strangers in bed with you. Oh no... you were completely surrounded by none other than Kwon Jiyong and Choi Seunghyun, Kpop's notorious rapper kings.

Your vague memories of the previous night slowly started to come back. You remembered getting ready at your apartment; carefully styling your hair and applying the perfect seductive makeup, slipping into a strapless red dress accompanied by a pair of killer black heels. You remembered arriving the hottest club in Seoul, and you vividly remembered the burn of the four shots of tequila you slammed back in quick succession at the bar. You remembered making your way out to the middle of the dance floor & the pair of strong hands that landed on your hips from behind... the heated gaze you met from another man across the crowded room. Oh yeah... it was all coming back to you now. There in bed, sandwiched between two gloriously naked men, how could you ever forget what had happened the night before? It was easily one of the best nights of your life.

______________________________________________

It had been a rough week for you, both at work and personally. All you had wanted was a break... a night of fun where you could let loose and forget about the real world for a while.

That was how you found yourself in the middle of the dance floor, carelessly swaying from side to side to the beat of the music. Your hands slid teasingly down the length of your body, the hem of your skin-tight dress riding up ever so slightly with every seductive rock of your hips. Your eyes were closed as you continued to dance, trying to lose yourself in the rhythm and the familiar buzz of alcohol. You were so caught up in the moment that you didn’t even realize a man had moved up behind you until you felt a pair of masculine hands grab you by the waist. Usually when this type of thing happened you would step away, not wanting to be groped by some random stranger.

But this week had been horrible and, propriety be damned,  you were looking to have some fun tonight. The tequila in your system helped you to not over-think the situation. So you leaned back into him, raising one hand to wrap around the back of his neck as you began to grind back against him. His hold on your waist tightened as the man pulled you closer and started to move along with you. You could feel him hardening against your backside which only served to heighten your own arousal. One of his hands disappeared from your hip and you found yourself momentarily disappointed before he deftly swept your hair to the side and began placing open mouthed kisses along your neck. Your eyes were still closed and you reveled in the sensation of his soft lips on your overheated skin.

When he unexpectedly sucked on your pulse point, your eyes flew open as a gasp escaped your lips.  Eyes roaming the crowd as you attempted to focus, you were surprised to find a man at the bar, watching you. No... watching both of you. You locked eyes with him as he slowly began to make his way towards where you were on the floor, his gaze never once leaving yours. It struck you just how much he looked like a wolf stalking its prey & you were more than willing to be the proverbial lamb in this case.

The closer he got, the better you could make out his face. He was attractive. Sexy. With piercing eyes and a chiseled jaw that you wanted to feel against your inner thighs as you rode his face. You groaned at the sudden erotic thought, feeling yourself dampen even more.

The man behind you hadn’t stopped rocking his hips into your ass, letting you feel his impressive length through his pants. One of his hands moved to your front, pressing you more tightly to him and his lips ghosted up to your ear, nibbling until he sucked the lobe into his mouth.

The man from the bar had finally made his way through the dance floor and was currently standing right in front of you. Now that you were seeing him up close, you thought he looked familiar but it was difficult to tell through the haze of the alcohol. You'd know if you had met him before though, maybe he just had one of those faces. The kind of face that said ‘I’d bend you over the kitchen counter and fuck you senseless while your roommate was watching TV in the next room.’ Yeah, you would've definitely recognized a face like that.

He finally tore his gaze from you and instead focused his attention on the man behind you. He said something, but you couldn’t hear the words being spoken over the sound of the music. Were they going to fight over you? Try to decide which one of them was going to get to take you home? You didn’t like to think of yourself as some sort of prize to be won, but you were so turned on by this point that you honestly didn’t care which one of them you spent the night with, just as long as you didn't leave the club alone. But they couldn’t really be arguing over you, could they? You felt you were reasonably attractive, but you never imagined you'd be the type to illicit such a reaction out of two complete strangers.

You didn’t have any more time to try and make sense of the situation because the man from the bar gave a slight nod to the other guy before placing both hands on either side of your face. He tilted your head up ever so slightly before bringing his lips to yours, kissing you softly at first but with a building intensity that made you cling tightly to him as you kissed him back. You began to feel dizzy, both from the heat in the club & because of the two men. Did this mean he had won the testosterone battle? He must not have, because you could still feel the other man pressed up behind you, his arms wrapped tightly around your middle.

Holy shit...

Neither man had let up, which meant they must have come to some sort of agreement to share. You opened your mouth in shock and the guy from the bar took the opportunity to invade your mouth with his tongue. The one behind you continued to rock his hips and you felt a hand graze your breast —who it belonged to you had no idea—but you decided to stop thinking for once and just feel.

"Let’s take her back to your place, Ji." the guy behind you said, his mouth close enough to your ear that you could actually hear his deep voice over the noise.

'Ji?' The guy from the bar. Wait... they knew each other? What the hell was going on? You looked back and forth between the two men, trying to understand exactly what was happening. The man from the bar, Ji— you really hoped that was just some nickname—nipped playfully at your lower lip before looking at you and asking, “What’s your name?”

"It’s uhh...” your brain temporarily turned to mush by the look of pure lust on his face & he smirked. “I... I mean..." you took a deep breath to gather yourself. "My name’s _________." you answered firmly, slightly embarrassed by your momentary slip of the mind.

You heard a light chuckle from the man behind you."Beautiful name for a beautiful woman.” his voice rumbled, sending a shiver up your spine.

The man in front of you smiled at that, actually showing teeth this time. It only increased his attractiveness, if such a thing was even possible. You would have laughed at the clichéd line if you weren't so confused. And aroused...

“What do you say we get out of here?” Ji said, still grinning. “You, me, and Seunghyun. My place isn’t too far, just a few blocks away.”

"You want to take me home?” your voice squeaked despite itself. “Both of you? Together?”

"Jiyong and I would like to continue this in a place much more private... and comfortable." the man behind you explained patiently.

You stepped out of his embrace just far enough to get a better look at him. This was the first time you'd gotten a good look at the man whose length had been pressed against your backside all night. He was insanely handsome. Platinum silver hair and a boyish grin that probably brought all the ladies to their knees. Seunghyun. And Jiyong. Why did those names sound so familiar? You looked back and forth between the two, studying their faces.

You gasped in sudden recognition. No, they couldn’t possibly be…could they? But why would two of the richest, sexiest men in the music industry want to take you, of all women, home with them?

"Because the way you were moving was sexy as fuck and I’d like to see if you move the same way when I'm buried inside of you." Seunghyun all but growled the last part of that sentence and you couldn’t help the small moan that escaped your lips. You hadn’t meant to voice your thoughts out loud  like that. It was a bad habit that had a tendency to happen when you were extremely nervous.

"And I really, really want to know what you taste like.” Jiyong spoke directly to you, not stopping there. "I want to feel the way your thighs shake when I suck your clit into my mouth. I want to taste you on my tongue. And most of all... I want to hear you scream.”

You were finding it hard to breathe. Hell, you were finding it hard to stand. You had to squeeze your thighs together after listening to them describe what they wanted to do. What they were going to do to you if you consented. Were you really considering this? You weren't opposed to the occasional one night stand and after the week you'd just had, hot sex with a complete stranger sounded amazing. But this...? Sleeping with two men at once? You wanted to. At that moment you couldn’t recall wanting anything more in your entire life. Seunghyun and Jiyong were both staring at you intently, waiting for you to answer. To hell with it...

You tried to speak, but it came out just above a whisper. Both men tilted their heads and looked at you, obviously not hearing what you had said.

Jiyong leaned down to speak in your ear, “Yes or no, ________?” The way he said your name caused you to pause for a moment, swallowing hard before replying.

"Yes." you finally managed to say more forcefully.

That’s all the guys needed to hear. A low groan escaped Jiyong's throat and he slid an arm around your waist, keeping you close to his side as Seunghyun took one of your hands and led you out of the crowd and into the parking lot.

____________________________________________

You took Jiyong's two seat Lamborghini, him behind the wheel and Seunghyun in the passenger seat with you sitting sideways in his lap, turned toward the drivers seat. Jiyong hadn’t even pulled out of the parking lot before Seunghyun started pinching your nipples through the fabric of your dress as he kissed and bit along the column of your throat. Not wanting to be left out, Jiyong took his right hand off the wheel and placed it on your inner thigh, wasting no time in finding the juncture between your legs. He was satisfied to find you already dripping wet as he stroked the outline of your folds through your silk panties, pulling a long breathy moan from your throat. Without warning he hooked a finger, pulled the scrap of fabric to the side & plunged a finger into you, causing you to buck against his hand. You started to move your hips faster, silently asking for more until another finger finally joined the first. A shout erupted from your throat and Seunghyun covered your lips with his, muffling the moans.

He released your mouth long enough to pull the top of your dress down, revealing your breasts to him and took a hardened nipple into his mouth, laving at it with his tongue. Jiyong continued to finger you at a maddening pace. It felt amazing. It felt more than amazing and you were quickly nearing your climax. You started moving your hips more desperately, chasing your release and then Seunghyun suddenly bit down on your breast and that’s all it took for you to come apart in his lap. Your moans filled the small space as you came around Jiyong's fingers. He didn’t stop his movements as he continued to stroke you through your first orgasm of the night. Damn... you’d never come that quickly before. You were slightly embarrassed, but the feeling quickly passed as you watched Jiyong remove his fingers and bring them up to his mouth, licking them clean, one at a time.

"Fuck, you taste so sweet."

You were still trying to catch your breath, pulling the top of your dress back up when Seunghyun turned your head towards him for a slow, languid kiss. He took his time as he moved his lips against yours & your hands wound around his neck, pulling him closer so you could deepen the kiss. He sucked your bottom lip into his mouth before licking across the seam of your lips, expertly opening you up to him. He was good at this. You felt like you could kiss him for hours. But not tonight... No, tonight you had other plans.

"I can’t wait to be inside you.” he rasped in your ear, and you could only nod your head in agreement.

"We’re here." Jiyong announced as he pulled into the parking lot of an expensive looking apartment complex downtown. You all climbed out of the car, you still in Seunghyun's arms before Jiyong came around the car and helped you to your feet. The three of you all but ran inside the lobby, Seunghyun desperately pressing the button for the elevator.

As soon as the doors slid shut, Jiyong had you backed up against the wall. He palmed your ass through your dress, raising your leg slightly so he could drag your slick core along the outline of  the obvious hard on in his pants.

"Oh my god..." you keened, your back arching off of the wall. He rocked his hips forward and you both groaned at the contact. There were way too many layers between the two of you for your liking. You needed to feel him inside of you and it couldn't be soon enough. Suddenly the elevator doors opened and he took a step back, but not before he grabbed your hand.  Jiyong all but dragged you toward his penthouse, Seunghyun's palm on the small of your back as he followed you down the hall and through the front door.

__________________________________________________

They both maneuvered around you with ease in a way that could only be described as choreographed. It was as if they had done this before. You belatedly realized that they probably had, several times in fact. You could picture them doing this with other women, attacking them like a tag team with equal precision. You had a fleeting thought that you should have been bothered by it, the fact that you were just another woman being used in their little game. But with Jiyong peeling off your dress, only stopping to suck a nipple between his lips and Seunghyun grabbing your panties, all but ripping them from between your legs, you really couldn’t find it in yourself to give a damn.

You managed to make your way into the master bedroom, a California king bed taking up most of the space. The two men eased you back onto the mattress. Jiyong followed suit, his hands ghosting up your thighs & slowly spreading your legs so that he could settle in between them. He placed soft kisses on your inner thighs, and you finally got to feel the delicious slide of his jaw as he made his way up to your center.

Seunghyun was watching on from the side of the bed, clothes already discarded on the floor, his hand stroking up and down his aching length. You beckoned him over to where you were spread out on the bed. He crawled over to where your head lay against the pillow, that boyish grin once again gracing his exquisite face. As you looked up at him, he rose to his knees, erection in his hand stoking lazily until you replaced his hand with your own. You smiled to yourself when you felt him twitch against your palm. You gripped his shaft, pumping up and down a few times before running your thumb across the head, spreading the moisture that had already gathered there. You licked up the side of him, from base to tip and then proceeded to take him into your mouth.

As soon as you closed your lips around the head you felt Jiyong sweep his tongue through your folds, flattening his tongue up until he reached your clit. He lightly sucked it into his mouth and you bucked your hips up, seeking more, but he placed a firm hand on your stomach, halting your movements as he continued to tease.

You then began to focus on Seunghyun. You sucked hard, swirling you tongue around the head. One hand continued to stoke his length & occasionally you would twist your wrist as your hand slid up and down. His hand made its way into your hair, gripping tightly. You took that as a cue and slid more of him into your mouth, Seunghyun began to slowly and carefully thrust into you. Your head was bobbing faster now, your tongue swirling around him and you had almost forgotten about Jiyong, but then his fingers joined his mouth and yeah, you were very aware of what he was doing now.

He continued to flick your clit with his tongue all while pumping two fingers into you, matching the rhythm that you were moving up and down Seunghyun's shaft. Jiyong pushed harder, and you wiggled your hips, trying to force his fingers deeper. He curled them, pressing up on your g-spot and you completely unraveled, Seunghyun falling from your mouth as cries of satisfaction left your throat, body overcome with pleasure.

You were trembling, chest heaving as you tried in vain to relax. Your face felt flushed and you were pretty sure a slight sheen of sweat already covered your entire body. You watched as Jiyong slowly began to make his way up to you, leaving soft kisses above your navel and between the valley of your breasts until he reached your mouth where he placed a chaste kiss on your lips. You could taste yourself on him & it was incredibly arousing.

"That was better than I imagined." he murmured against your mouth and pecked at your lips again.

Then he got off of the bed completely, moving to stand. He made his way to the bedside drawer, pulling out a pack of condoms.

You shook your head at him. “No.”

Both men stopped moving, eyes wide at your declaration. “No condoms.” you repeated firmly.

Concern washed over Jiyong's face before he spoke. “Are you sure?”

You nodded confidently. “I’m on the pill and I’m clean.” then you continued more softly, “...and I trust you.”

You heard Seunghyun's sharp inhale and saw the way Jiyong squared his shoulders & blew out a heavy breath from your confession. With one final look at you he dropped the pack of condoms back into the drawer.

You felt Seunghyun lean down next to you, whispering in your ear. “Get on your hands and knees.” You couldn't help but shiver at his sultry tone and quickly did as you were told.

You felt the bed dip as he moved behind you, his palms grabbing your ass before suddenly pulling away. The next thing you knew Seunghyun's hand came down, slapping your right cheek, hard.

"AHHHH!" you yelled in surprise, not prepared for the sting from his palm.

"God, that’s beautiful. Don’t you love that sound, Ji?" he said as he slapped your ass again, the loud sound of his palm hitting your flesh echoing in the room.

"Fuck yes..." Jiyong replied, his voice laced with arousal.

You looked over at him, watching as he stripped himself of his clothes, revealing his naked, tattooed form to you for the first time. Damn, he was built like a fucking work of art. Just the barest hint of muscles and abs. You wanted nothing more than to run your tongue along the lines of his tattoos & feel the taut muscles beneath your fingertips. Jiyong had been following your gaze, head tilting slightly as he smirked at you.

Seunghyun's palm provided another powerful blow and you cried out. Then you felt the blunt tip of him pushing against your opening as he slowly eased his way into your wet heat.

“Fuck, _________...” Seunghyun said when he was fully sheathed inside, his voice breathy. “You feel incredible.”

He held the position for a few seconds, letting you adjust to the feel of him. He wasn't small, stretching you in all the right ways. You circled your hips once to let him know it was okay to move. He started with slow, shallow thrusts, barely leaving you at all. But you didn’t want it slow. No... you wanted, needed, so much more.

"Faster. Seunghyun, please.” you didn’t care that you were already begging. Both men had been toying with you all night and you were done with games.

His broad hands gripped either side of your waist and he started fucking you harder, moving faster against you. You braced your hands flat on the mattress, pushing back into him, meeting him thrust for thrust. Yes... this was exactly what you had needed. Seunghyun slapped your ass again and you moaned loudly, the sting much more pleasurable this time.

Jiyong was completely naked now as he made his way to the foot of the bed, right up to where your head was. You looked down at the obvious sign of his arousal, licking your lips at the sight of his precum. Jiyong rubbed the bead of it against your half-parted lips.

"Open." he commanded. And you did. You opened your mouth wide as he pushed inside, your eyes meeting his.

This was amazing. Sex for you had never been this good before. But this wasn’t just sex... oh no, this was absolute raw fucking and you were loving every second of it. You reveled in how incredible it felt... to have two different men, with two very different hard lengths pushing inside of you.

Seunghyun was still pounding into you from behind, the force of his thrusts causing you to take more of Jiyong into your mouth and you swallowed impulsively.

“Fuck, that’s good.” he growled. You looked up through your lashes to see Jiyong's flushed face, eyes screwed shut as his grip on the back of your head tightened.

You took him into your mouth as deep as you could, hollowing out your cheeks as you did so. When he hit the back of your throat you slowly rocked your head from side to side, listening as Jiyong swore under his breath. Then you pulled back and began sucking him faster, a ribbon of hair slipping out of his hands to tickle your nose slightly from the constant motion. Jiyong brought the hand not currently wrapped in your hair up to your face, taking hold of the stray lock and tucking it behind your ear. 'Well that was nice of him.' you thought to yourself. Good to know the man currently fucking your mouth had manners. The intimacy of the act was not lost on you, but you didn’t have time nor the mental capacity to analyze exactly what that meant right now.

“You look so sexy getting fucked like this, __________. Do you know that?” Jiyong asked.

You shook Your head no. Jiyong's hand cupped your jaw, raising your head up slightly. “You do...” he said, his voice throaty and hoarse. “You look sexy as fuck like this. With me filling your mouth and Seunghyun fucking you from behind. Damn...” he released your face, moving to wrap your hair more firmly around his hand instead while he pushed further into your mouth.

Speaking of Seunghyun, he was still slamming into you at a grueling pace, hands digging into your flesh hard enough to bruise. Then he leaned forward to speak into your ear. “Touch yourself.” he said, almost breathlessly. You quickly maneuvered yourself & reached down between your legs to rub at  your hardened nub desperately.

You came quickly after that, humming around Jiyong's length, triggering his own release as he emptied himself down your throat. You swallowed as much as you could while Seunghyun continued to fuck you at an erratic pace. He lost his rhythm every so often and you knew he was getting close. With a pop you released Jiyong from your mouth, then you ground your ass back into Seunghyun. You swiveled your hips once... twice... until you felt him surge forward, stilling as he reached his climax. A low growl escaped his throat as he spilled into you.

Feeling Seunghyun pulsate within you brought on an unexpected wave of pleasure which resulted in another orgasm. It wasn’t as strong as your previous ones, but it was still just as satisfying and you moaned in appreciation as both of you came down from the high.

Before you even knew what was happening Seunghyun had pulled out and flipped you onto your back. His mouth descended onto yours and you granted him easy access as his tongue swept into your mouth, his tongue stroking yours. He kissed you thoroughly and you knew he would be able to taste Jiyong. Most guys would be put off by that, hell most guys wouldn’t even let you kiss him after you’d finished sucking them off, but Seunghyun didn’t seem to care and fuck if that wasn’t one of the most erotic things you had ever experienced.

Suddenly you felt yourself being pulled up from the mattress. Seunghyun kissed you again, hard and fast, all tongue and teeth before he pushed you into Jiyong's arms. He was now sitting on the edge of the bed, legs dangling over the side. Jiyong picked you up by the waist, swinging you over his lap so you were straddling him. Somehow, he was already hard again. He took himself in one hand and lined it up with your entrance, running the head through your folds a couple times before slowly lowering you down onto him.

“I want you to ride me, _________. Take every single inch of me into your drenched core.”

You made a small whimper but easily complied, your knees digging into the mattress as you rose off of him, leaving just the head inside and then slamming back down again. He felt so fucking good like this, hitting spots deep inside that you never even knew you had. Where Seunghyun had been solid and filling, Jiyong was long and rigid. His hands fell to your ass, kneading the soft flesh as he helped to lift you up, encouraging your movements.

You bit down on your bottom lip to silence your screams and Jiyong quickly reached for your chin, freeing your lip from the confines of your teeth. “Don’t do that.” he snarled. “I want to hear you. I want to hear how good riding me makes you feel.”

“Oh…fuck. Jiyong!.”

“That’s it, ________.” he said through gritted teeth. “Harder!”

Damn, the sound of his voice was so commanding. The low growl that emanated from his chest as he spoke made you even more wet if that was humanly possible. You thought that you would do anything for him if only he kept speaking to you like that. You’d probably jump off a cliff right now if he told you to, your brain was so addled with lust.

"Harder, ________." he repeated. "I said to ride me harder!” he lifted his hips roughly to get the message across.

So you did. You rode him for all you were worth and then some. Your head was thrown back as your arms wrapped tightly around his shoulders, using him as an anchor. Your breasts were bouncing directly in front of Jiyong's face and he took one nipple into his mouth before alternating between the two.

You heard Seunghun's low muttered 'Fuck...” from somewhere. Looking up past Jiyong's shoulder, you found Seunghyun kneeling in the middle of the mattress, hard in hand, gripping himself tightly as he watched you ride his friend. His pupils were completely dilated, his eyes searing into yours.

"You like that?" Seunghyun asked with a smirk, his voice husky with need. "Do you like watching me stroke myself while you ride Ji?"

You could only nod in answer.

"I want to hear you say it.”

Fuck. These two were going to be the death of you.

"Yes..." you practically purred. "I like watching you stroke yourself while Ji…oh god, yes!” you cried out suddenly as Jiyong bit down, his teeth grazing one of your nipples. “…while Jiyong fucks me.” you barely managed to get the words out as Jiyong continued to thrust up into you.

Seunghyun stroked a little faster now, satisfied with your answer. He actually looked at you and winked... the smug bastard.

You began to shake, your breath coming out in short pants and you were having trouble keeping your eyes open.

Jiyong noticed and he roughly demanded, “Look at me, __________. I want you to watch me as I make you come.”

You slowly opened your eyes and were met with Jiyong's heated gaze. You continued to stare at each other, his hips rising up to meet yours as you lowered down onto him. You both kept up the pace for a few minutes, nearing the edge. With one last thrust and swivel of his hips you came hard, your inner walls clamping down on Jiyong as your forehead tilted forward to rest against his own. Your grip on him was so tight as you rode him through your orgasm that Jiyong was quick to follow, his hands stilling your movements as he emptied into you. Your foreheads were still pressed against each other’s, breaths mingling as the waves of pleasure subsided.

You felt absolutely spent, eyes drooping as you melted into Jiyong's embrace. He reached up to tuck a stray strand of hair behind your ear before cupping your face with his palm entirely. You leaned into his hand, opening your eyes.

“Hey...” he spoke quietly, looking at you with an unreadable expression.

You smiled softly. “Hi...” you leaned down to capture his lips, kissing him slowly. Then Jiyong rose to his feet with you still in his arms as he softened inside you. He turned around and carefully set you back down onto the mattress. He pulled out, rolling onto his back, laying down to your right.

Seunghyun, who was still rock hard, went to kneel in front of you on the bed. He placed his broad hands on your knees, rubbing small circles into your skin with his thumbs. Your legs parted instinctively for him and he moved forward, stopping once he reached the apex of your thighs. Seunghyun took hold of his erection and smacked the head of it directly onto your already overly stimulated clit and your hips jumped off the mattress at the contact.

“Seunghyun! Oh my god!” you half-yelled, half-laughed at him.

Then, without warning, he slammed into you, wasting no time in developing a harsh rhythm. You gripped the bed sheet hard, knuckles soon turning white.

“You feel so fucking good, ____________. So. Fucking. Good.” he punctuated the last three words with deep, hard thrusts.

You turned your head to look over at Jiyong, noticing that he was hardening once more. 'The stamina on this guy is unbelievable.' you thought. You reached over to grab hold of him, starting to pump the length of him with your hand. You adjusted the angle of your head so you could cover his lips with your own. The kiss was sloppy, desperate.

Seunghyun hitched one of your legs over his shoulder, changing the angle in which he entered, hitting that sweet spot deep inside. His hand reached up to squeeze one of your breasts and he rolled a hard nipple in between his thumb and forefinger before pulling on it gently.

The sensations were incredible. Your body was glistening with sweat as Seunghyun continued to fuck you senseless. You didn’t want the pleasure to end but felt exhausted and knew that you wouldn’t be able to handle much more. And you could also feel the tension building with each thrust of Seunghyun's hips. You'd already lost track of the number of times you had an orgasm that night, but felt like you needed just one more.

You mumbled breathlessly against Jiyong's mouth. “Touch me, Jiyong. I need you to touch me.” your voice coming out desperate, needy. His hand traveled down to where you and Seunghyun were joined and he quickly began to rub your throbbing clit. Seunghyun's hand was still on your breast, squeezing roughly and you arched into his touch.

You were close now, you could feel the wave of bliss building from somewhere deep inside. You dug the heel of your foot between Seunghyun's shoulder blades, rocking your hips faster against him as your hand furiously pumped Jiyong's hardness.

This was it. Stars danced behind your eyes as your loud cries of pleasure filled the room.

"Come with me." you begged, your voice ragged from screaming. "I want you both to come with me!"

“Shit, ___________.” Seunghyun said as he pushed deeper into you.

You felt Jiyong rock faster into your hand, his breathing labored as he buried his head in the hollow of your neck. “Oh, fuck.”

"Yes!" you screamed, "That’s it! Don’t stop... oh god... now! I need you both to come with me now!” and as soon as the words left your lips you came, the orgasm hitting you hard as your body shook from the onslaught of the intense feeling.

Seunghyun came with a shout, your name tumbling from his lips as he unloaded himself into you for the second time that night.

Your body was still shaking uncontrollably and you felt Jiyong bite down hard on your neck, his cum shooting out in strands across your hand and abdomen.

Holy... fucking... shit.

None of you moved right away, all slowly trying to catch your breath instead, bodies still trembling from the aftershocks.

After what felt like an eternity, Seunghyun was the first to move. He pulled out so that he could lay flat on his back beside you and you whimpered at the loss of contact. You felt the bed shift to your right and you watched as Jiyong made his way into the bathroom, probably to get himself cleaned up.

Your eyes began to shut for real this time, exhaustion taking over. You moved to the left slightly, cuddling into Seunghyun's side. He reached over, tenderly smoothing the hair away from your sweat-dampened forehead. You felt the right side of mattress dip again when Jiyong returned. He crawled in beside you and began cleaning off your body with a warm washcloth. You hummed in thanks at the sweet gesture. When he was finished he threw the cloth aside and slid in next to you, drawing the covers over all three of you.

The last thing you remembered before falling asleep was Jiyong lacing his fingers with yours, and Seunghyun placing soft kisses onto your shoulder.

________________________________________________

You could feel the moisture that had collected between your legs as you relived the previous night’s events. You looked down past Jiyong's messy hair to see that his fingers were ghosting across your abdomen, right down until he reached your core.

"What are you thinking about that’s got you so wet, hmm?" Jiyong asked, just as you felt his fingertips lightly travel across your slit.

You shivered under his touch. “Last night.” you smiled fondly at the memory. “Thank you.”

Jiyong kissed your sternum softly, “Anything for you, baby.”

"So... did we successfully fulfill your fantasy, Ms.________?" You turned your head slightly to look at a now awake Seunghyun .

"Yes. It was perfect." you said as you ran a finger down the side of his face. "But I’m pretty sure my ass is going to be sore for a day or two." you angled your head a bit more to glare at him properly.

He ducked his head cutely, “Sorry about that. I guess I got a little carried away... in the moment.” he replied, cheeks turning red from embarrassment.

"It’s okay, Seunghyun. As long as you promise to kiss it better." you teased.

"Oh, I’m sure I can manage that," he stared down at you with that private smile you adored so much.

"Last night..." Jiyong began, his voice growing serious now, "we didn’t use any condoms." You chuckled softly. Jiyong wouldn’t be Jiyong if he didn’t find something to agonize over.

You sat up so that you could look at both of their faces before speaking. “I wanted to feel both of you, only you.” your head moved from side to side so that you could look directly into each of their eyes.

Both men stared at you in amazement. Jiyong opened his mouth to speak, “But...”

You silenced him by pressing a finger to his lips. "I love you." you said, the tone of your voice leaving no room for uncertainty. "I love both of you, and I didn’t want any barriers between us."

You looked between the two of them, waiting for a response. But Seunghyun and Jiyong were quiet. Too quiet... and you feared that your confession had been too much for them. It was the first time any of you had said those words to each other in the few short months since you had started this little relationship. Were you moving too fast? Were they not ready for that? Was this whole arrangement just sex for them?

Tears started to form in your eyes and you began retreating into yourself. I shouldn’t have said that. I ruined a perfectly good thing by opening my mouth and now I’ve probably scared off the both of them. I was stupid to think that these last couple of months meant anything to them other than sex. I’m so stupid for thinking that they loved me too.

Your mind was racing with a million different thoughts that you didn’t even notice Jiyong grab your face until his lips descended onto yours. He kissed you roughly, swallowing your gasp of surprise. He pulled back suddenly, just far enough so that he could look into your eyes. And he looked…angry?

Then he spoke, his voice came out as more of a growl than anything else, “This was not about the sex. You’re not stupid for...”

You yelped in embarrassment, pulling your head away and shutting your eyes. Shit! Of course you had said those things out loud.

Jiyong took hold of your face more firmly in his hands. “Look at me, ________.” he pleaded, and the evident desperation in his tone caused you to open your eyes.

"I love you." Jiyong stated, his voice was thick with emotion and you noticed he had tears in his eyes too. "I love you so much."

You were crying openly now and you pulled Jiyong's  face to yours, kissing him passionately. You heard a throat clearing politely behind you & tore your mouth away from Jiyong's so that you could face Seunghyun.

He was smirking at you. “He's wrong, you know...” he began and you felt your heart drop in your chest.

“You are stupid.” he paused, chuckling at your confusion before continuing. “You are so stupid for ever thinking that Ji and I could be anything but head over heels in love with you.”

Fresh tears now formed in your eyes and a strangled sob escaped your throat. Seunghyun moved forward to kiss you gently, his hands reaching for yours where they lay in your lap. You grasped his hands tightly before turning his palms over so that you could intertwine your fingers with his. Jiyong slid behind you, wrapping his arms tightly around your waist and you leaned back into his chest, never letting go of Seunghyun's hands.

Your heart was fluttering rapidly in your chest and you couldn’t help the wide smile that had spread across your face.

Seunghyun opened his mouth to speak again, breaking the silence. “I just want to add that even though this relationship isn’t entirely about sex, the sex part of the deal still means a lot to me. Because last night was fucking incredible.” he said with a wistful, far away smile.

Jiyong huffed out a laugh, his chest rumbling against your back as he held you in his arms. Gods, you loved that sound.

"I’ve got to admit, it was extremely hot to be on the receiving end of the infamous GD&TOP double combo seduction game. I’m a little jealous of all the other women you pulled that stunt on before meeting me."

Jiyong just held you tighter and Seunghyun leaned in to kiss your forehead.

"You have nothing to be jealous of, angel. All those other women were just that... other women. We were never in love with any of them."  Seunghyun said sincerely.

Jiyong pressed a soft kiss into your hair. “Only you.”

"Mmmm. Only me."

Yeah... you definitely liked the sound of that.

[kornito]

SOURCE: https://korngiant.tripod.com/kornisgoodforu/id10.html

Dead

Song Meaning, Jonathan:

All I want in life is to be happy", it's that simple. People say that it's become their own anthem. It's like whenever I start to feel good, something comes and takes it away and I feel like I'm nothing again, like I'm dead.

Falling Away From Me

Song Meaning, Jonathan:

The song is about domestic abuse and that there ways to get help whether it's telling someone or calling a help line, there are ways to get out of those situations. Noone has to be treated like that.

Trash

Song Meaning, Jonathan:

"Trash" is about how I threw my world and everything out. I threw her away. I threw my old self away. It basically comes back down to the sex thing. The battles I did on the road, this whole album is what I went through because I was on the road and I went crazy.

Beg for Me

Song Meaning, Jonathan:

"Beg For Me" is more of an angry thing because the whole thing for "Beg For Me" is the crowd. The only time I was good on tour was when I walked up onstage and that's what the song is about. Feeling wanted is something one thing I've always needed. I was shuffled around so much when I was a kid...Being up onstage was the only point was the only time when my anxiety would go away for an hour.

Make Me Bad

Song Meaning, Jonathan:

I need to feel the sickness in you" ... It's spawned from f**kin', basically, from having sex. That's where that line comes from, but it means a whole bunch of things to me. "Make Me Bad" was about the battles I had being on the road, being married and being with other women. I'm not married anymore... beause of my lifestlyle, and I just couldnt do that to my wife anymore. So that ended. But does it make me bad that I have a dick and I have f**ken other feelings to be with other people? Why should I be with just one? It seems like human beings are genetically engineered to procreate. Thats what we do, f**k everything, and that's what our natural insides want to do. It is hard to find someone like that. But she was a good woman and I didnt want to keep on... I did the right thing, I was a man about it. It was better for me to tell her and let her go on with her life and find someone who could help her and be like that. So that song was spawned by that, does it make me bad to want to be with other women? In a sence it was my only drug, why... because I dont drink anymore, I cant drink. I've been sober for a year. I dont have any other vices. So at least doing that could be something.

Hey Daddy

Song Meaning, Jonathan:

"Hey Daddy" where I was schizophrenic and there were these voices telling me to do sh*t... To kill myself, basically. Daddy is one of my nicknames, so its like I'm talking to myself the whole time. It's hard to explain.

Dirty

Song Meaning: Jonathan

"I feel like a fucking whore to record companies." "You know how it is...the way we are used and marketed." "How they make all the money off us and we don't make shit!" "The only way we make money is to go out on tour and sell merchandise" "Basiclly we write all the music and turn in and they make all the money." "So I feel like that and also I feel like a slut cuz I'd go out at night and fucking girls and so I said fuck it, I'm going to do it. The only way to escape is to have sex." "Its all kind of different issues."

Its On!

Song Meaning, Jonathan:

It's On is my sh*t peer pressure song. Me being so stressed out going out and partying. Everybody's just going 'Come on dude, it's on.' That's partying, it's alcohol, cocaine, women. All that wrapped into one. I wrote a song about it. And the chorus I talked about Why am I really doing this? It's all my fault that I'm doing this because all the alcohol, the booze an the chicks do is just make it worse. They just rearrange all the problems in a different order that I can deal with at that moment.

Freak on a Leash

Song Meaning, Jonathan:

One of the best titles I've heard ever for a song. That's my song against the music industry. Like me feeling like I'm f**kin' a pimp, a prostitute. Like I'm paraded around. I'm this freak paraded around but I got corporate America f**kin' making all the money while it's taking a part of me. It's like they stole something from me, they stole my innocence and I'm not calm anymore. I worry constantly.

Got the Life

Song Meaning, Jonathan:

That's a song baggin' on myself. How everything's always handed to me. How I look up to God and don't want this anymore. Like I want something more out of life than all this. And I've got everything I really need but I sometimes don't like. I don't know how to explain it. I have to let it sit through the songs more to actually get into what I write. I truly know, really, the meanings of the songs almost. That's what I'm getting out of it right now.

Dead Bodies Everywhere

Song Meaning, Jonathan:

That was the song about my parents trying to keep me out of the music business. My father was in it and he knew how it was and I totally understand now that I have a son. I want Nathan to be a musician but I him don't want him to go through the hell I went through. That's the same thing my Dad was doing. A lot of people can relate to it, because it's like the Dad's wanting their sons to be football players and their sons want to be doctors or something. That peer pressure its like trying to make them something they're really not. And the Dead Bodies thing is like so I did it and all I got out of it was dead bodies everywhere and got all traumatized. Thanks a lot Dad, Mom.

Children of the Korn

Song Meaning, Jonathan:

That's the song that Ice Cube is on Cube came up with the title. I fed off of what he wrote, he was talking about growing up and puberty. Dictating what he can do, like how you gonna tell me how to live and who to f**k? And all this stuff. And I took that and in my stuff I was talking about being a kid always known as the f**kin' town faggot. It's funny how things change. That some of these people picked on me and all of a sudden look who's laughing now. Also in another of the verse I talked about all these parents f**kin hating me for what I do, saying I'm corrupting their children, but in turn these parents need to step outside of themselves and really listen to what I'm talking about. Then I think they can understand that they were kids before. They're just really quick to judge me. All the Children of The Korn are all our Korn fans. All those kids going through that sh*t and feeling what I feel.

B.B.K.

Song Meaning, Jonathan:

Big black cock! That's what I call a jack and coke. Those little glasses they serve in Europe and everything. That's what I named it, big black cock. And that's another song about me dealing with the pressures of this album and how I, you know, I'm trying to kill myself, but you know? Do I really want to kill myself? Things I'm just questioning myself. Most of this is self-structured.

Pretty

Song Meaning, Jonathan:

It's a story about this little girl that came into the coroner's office when I was working there and she was f**ked by her dad. She was an 11 month old little baby girl. Her legs were broken back behind her and he just f**ked her like a toy doll and chucked her in the bathroom. It was the most heinous thing I've ever seen in my life and I still have nightmares about it.

All in the Family

Song Meaning, Jonathan:

Fred was there after Korn TV and we said, 'Let's do a song together, Hey, man, let's go back and forth and rip on each other like an old school battle.' I don't know who's idea it was, I can't remember if it was mine or Fieldy's or Fred's but we came up with the idea and we started writing and we worked on it together. I came up with some bags on myself for Fred to say. It was all in good natured fun.

Reclaim My Place

Song Meaning, Jonathan:

This one is about the whole band and about all my life being called a homosexual. And then I became this big rock star in a band and I'm still called a fag even by my own band. So it's like I was f**kin' pissed off at them. It's like erase them all because I'm gonna reclaim my place and say hey, they owe a lot to me for what I did, and I owe a lot to them back. But, it still kinda sucks. I've never ever gotten away from that fag f**kin' title. Just because I'm a sensitive kinda guy. Kinda feminine it really sucks.

Justin

Song Meaning, Jonathan:

Justin, that was the kid dying terminally with intestinal cancer. His last dying wish was to meet us and it really freaked me out. That threw a whole bunch of new kind of pressures on my head. That's really intense. Someone's gonna die and his last thing he wants to do is come hang out with us. So I truly just freaked out. It's like why would you want to meet me? What makes me so special? And in turn I talk about how I admire his strength and his life. I couldn't stare at him because he was so content he was gonna die. No one could look him in the eyes. And I totally admire his strength. I wish I had it.

Seed

Song Meaning, Jonathan:

Seed. That's all about the same thing again. I laying in bed in my hotel room, thinking about do I really need all this stuff? All this pressure on me? Because I'm a stressed out freak. It's about Nathan, it's about every time that I look into his eyes, I see myself how I used to be, innocent and stress free. I'm kind of jealous of it. It really sucks, I used to be that way. It's like I have to work so hard at this thing in my life. I have to become a stressed out freak. I put food on the table for my child. Every time I look in his eyes, I just see myself staring right back at my @ss laughing. I was like care free, innocent as a child. It's really weird and I'm really jealous of it.

Cameltosis

Song Meaning, Jonathan:

That's a love song. It's about women in general, women who hurt me. It's Tre's lyrics. He's going on about chicks and my chorus is like I'm so scared to love anyone and really let them in after I got hurt really really bad by a girl. I've let Renee in a little bit, to be honest, but I'll never be that in love ever again. That's what I'm saying, if you've loved twice, you're gonna get f**ked, 'cause you usually do.

My Gift to You

Song Meaning, Jonathan:

Renee always wanted me to write her a love song and that's why I called it My Gift To You. It's my gift to her, you know how I get sick. I always had a fantasy of f**king her and choking her to death. I fantasize about what it would look like me in her body and watching me do it. So it's like a really sick f**ked up song. I did it totally like, I love her so much, I want to take her out of this world. It's really strange. She used to leave notes on my pillow like 25 ways she'd like to kill me. She's got this weird death fetish. We're kinda f**kin' freaky. She got it. She's all 'Thank you that's kinda f**ked up. I was expecting a f**kin' I love you, baby kinda song.' I'm all, 'No, you know me.' I mean I can't do that.

Chi

Song Meaning, Jonathan:

Chi is about a lot of alcohol and drug abuse. People turn to that when they have problems so that they won't have to feel their pain. The song was named after Chi Cheng from the Deftones. We named it after him because he used to call it reggae, and he loves reggae music.

Lost

Song Meaning, Jonathan:

It's the sterotypical thing about your best friend meeting a chick, and then you're nothing

Swallow

Song Meaning, Jonathan:

That's about being paranoid. Drug-induced paranoia.

Good God

Song Meaning, Jonathan:

It's about a guy I knew in school who I thought was a my friend, but who f**ked me. He came into my life with nothing, hung out at my house, lived off me, and made me do sh*t I didn't really wanna do." "I was into new romantic music and he was a mod, and he'd tell me if I didn't dress like a mod he wouldn't be my friend anymore."

"Whenever I had plans to go on a date with a chick he'd sabotage it, because he didn't have a date or nothing. He was a gutless f**king nothing. I haven't talked to him for years.

Mr. Rogers

Song Meaning, Jonathan:

Back in the day when I was a speed freak, um... even further back when I was a little kid watchin' Mr. Rogers, that sh*t was scary. He was a freaky old man... Land of Makebelieve and Mr. f**kinMcFeely and sh*t... made me sick. So back when I was doing speed, like for 5 or 6 days I'd be trippin out and my brain would start to get freaky and get schizophrenic and stuff, and I'd tape it and watch it everyday over and over... I don't know, I was sick in the head. As a kid he told me to be polite and all it did was get me picked on. I f**king hate that man. Thanks for making me polite and trusting everyone, and easy to take advantage of. So I spent 3 months on that one song, just tweakin' on it, and it was totally just my Mr. Rogers obsession, about how evil I thought he was. Pretty much drug induced.

K @ # Ø % (Kunt)

Song Meaning, Jonathan:

People think it's sexist but it isn't. It's more subconcious b*tching at all the women who've been with me in my life. It's not about women in feneral, just those women who hurt me." "Initially, we wrote it to send to American radio for a joke, because they always chop up all the other songs. So we were going to send a 'real' single seven days later."

A.D.I.D.A.S.

Song Meaning, Jonathan:

It stands for all day I dream about sex. It's about how much of a pervert my ass is, and how I daydream about what a stud I am. But when it comes down to it, I'm a f**king pussy and I'm in there jacking off.

a** Itch

Song Meaning, Jonathan:

That was the last song I wrote, and I was so burned at writing out lyrics because everytime I write I get depressed because I start thinking about things, you know? So the whole song is about that. In the chorus it says, 'Before day, my sun will be dying'. It's because I put myself on the line all the time and for what? Because people aren't going to be listening to it anyway.

Kill You

Song Meaning, Jonathan:

It's about a relative I first met when I was 12. I f**king hate that b*tch. She's the most evil, f**ked up person I've met in my whole life. She hated my guts. She did everything she could to make my life hell. Like, when I was sick she'd feed me tea with Tabasco, which is really hot pepper oil. She'd make me drink it and say, 'You have to burn that cold out, boy'. f**ked up sh*t like that. So every night when I'd go to sleep, I'd dream of killing that b*tch. In some sick way I had a sexual fantasy about her, and I don't know what that stems from or why, but I always dreamt about f**king her and killing her

Ball Tongue

Song Meaning, Jonathan:

The meaning of ball tongue is simple. Some thought it had to do with oral sex, but in fact its about a guy we had to work with on a t-shirt (Jeff Creath). He either had a pierced tongue or a wart or something on his tongue and he was a dick to us.

Different live: Jonathan goes into a Rap (by Coolio) Called "Loddi Doddi" in the middle of the song.

Clown

Song Meaning, Jonathan:

Korn was playing a show in San Diego for a clothing card. This skinhead guy came up and started flippin' me off. When we started, I bent down and the guy took a swing at me. Our tour manager, Jeff, got into it and knocked the guy out. I wrote this song about him: 'Scared to be honest with yourself/you're a cowardly man.

Faget

Song Meaning, Jonathan:

Everyone thinks I'm bashing gay people in this song, and I'm not. It's really about me going through high school being called 'pussy,' 'queer' and all that stuff, about getting picked on by all these jocks.

Shoots and Ladders

Song Meaning, Jonathan:

It was written because all these little kids sing these nursery rhymes and they don't know what they originally meant. Everyone is so happy when singing but 'London Bridge' is about the Black Plague. All of them have these evil stories behind them." "The lyrics are all from nursery rhymes, and a lot of nursery rhymes go back to the Middle Ages. They're actually pretty twisted if you know the stories behind them, like about Black Death and stuff.

Helmet in the Bush

Song Meaning, Jonathan:

It's about a speed problem that I had. You know, you do a lot of speed and -- if you're a male -- your penis retracts severly. The guy heard at the beginning of the song is La Caco, a friend of the band. His real name is Michael and likes taco bell. He's a really Nice Guy and he has been friends with the band for years

Daddy

Song Meaning, Jonathan:

People think daddy' was writen because my dad f**ked me up the ass,thats not what the song's about. It wasn't about my dad or my mum. When I was a kid I was being abused by someone else and I went to my parents and told them about it. and they thought I was lying and joking around, they never did sh*t about it. They didn't belive it was happening to their son. I don't like to talk about that song, this is the most I've ever talked about it...

[moonlight--cafe]

Hi again Eden! Sorry that it took me long to reply back. It takes me a while to think out everything what I wanna say and stuff. Idk if you’ve ever had that issue? Anyway, wow you’ve been a fan for a long time. I’m a fan of Lady Gaga too! I’ve always listened to her music since I was little😊

As for my fanfics, there’s this one that’s in the works still but I’m hoping to start working on it soon. The fic is called “Spotlight”, and it’s supposed to be inspired by movies/tv shows like Tron, WandaVision, Teen beach movie, and tick tick boom. I was thinking it could be like a reverse harem story since I’m also into anime and I’m a sucker for reverse harems.

The whole plot is about y/n, who’s looking for her missing mom. One day when she visits her mom’s old movie theater, she and her friends get sucked in and trapped in a movie her mom made. Like her mom used to be famous back in the day until she mysteriously disappears without warning. Y/n’s accompanied by her best friend Vickie, along with the boys. They’re trapped there for about a week throughout the whole story. Every day there’s a different decade and/or genre.

I’ve been thinking of either having Y/n, her BFF, and the 7 boys have a club together, which revolves around their love for music, singing, movies, acting, & theater. Or a band, idk yet.

One night when they prepare to shoot an MV, y/n brings up the idea to have it take place at her mom’s old theater. But before they can start shooting, they get teleported by some magic camera.

The movie they’re stranded in changes to a different decade/genre every day during the story’s progression. So when they try to find a way to get out, they realize in order to escape, they have to finish the movie. Ik it’s kinda messy still but this is just what I’ve had in mind as of now.

And when it turns out the movie revolves around Broadway, they write down some songs. I was thinking of y/n even inspiring the boys with some of the songs they write (que dynamite, butter, permission to dance lol).

I was thinking of also putting some themes like corruption of the movie/music industry and stuff like that. but Idk how well the execution would be as of now😅. I also had an idea of putting a villain in the story who knew y/n’s mom personally and who’s also responsible for trapping y/n and everyone else in the movie. But yeah that’s pretty much it.

I’m probably forgetting some stuff I meant to put here (or having trouble writing it out) but sorry again for replying late

All the time, I worry I'm not articulate so I overthink a bit and my responses are a lil late or my ships take a while. Like I'm completely redoing a synastry one because I made a slight error but I decided to redo it all because I don't want to lie to ya'll so don't ever worry about taking your tie to respond.

And oh my god I am so invested in your fic! It sounds so unbelievably creative? I'm serious that sounds absolutely amazing! Please let me know when you post it because I would absolutely love to read it, I haven't read a BTS fic in a very long time but I definitely am putting it on my mental to read list. I would also love to share my main fic idea!

I'm currently writing a Yeonjun x fem! reader thing with badboy Yeonjun, he's essentially the readers childhood friend. They met when they were young, it was a wholesome thing involving him patching her up with band-aids and giving her a lollipop. Fast forward to when they are older y/n decides to give college a pass to stay with Yeonjun so she works with him at this diner. Yeonjun is acting slightly weird ever since he broke up with his girlfriend, essentially Yeonjun never felt attracted to the reader and preferred it that way. But one night he has this wet dream and freaks out, the worst part is that he keeps having it. So basically it's a thing where his normally somewhat ignorant, cocky bad boy thing starts to disappear thanks to the reader. I'm still working on it so this is a very vague overview but it's gonna have a bit more angst, emotion and romance and smut since it's based on TXT's entire discography.

I also have ideas for a Felix fic and a Jake fic but I still gotta figure out what to write for them. Enough of me, thank you so much for sharing your fic idea! I love how your brain thinks and I'm actually so excited to read it when it's done!

Sorry this seems a little short as a response I'm actually still in shock about how brilliant your idea is!!

[blazinbeautywrites]

Man Crush Monday

Note: Due to the rampant uprising of plagiarism on this site and others I am stating once and once only that this is my ORIGINAL work. If I find out that you have stolen/taken any part of my work I will handle you and the situation the way I see fit.

None of the pics or gifs I use belong to me unless stated otherwise. Full credit goes to the originators of said gifs and pics.

A/N: I know this is a lil late lol but this is part of my Smut Week writing challenge which you can find here. Hope yall enjoy Producer Zab!

Length: 1,431 words

Genre: Smut

It was a rainy Monday night when Jade was scrolling through her IG feed. Just when she was bored of the app, she got a notification that her favorite producer, Zabdiel posted to his page. Clicking on it, Jade was met with the best site she’d ever seen. There he was, in all his sweaty glory, in his custom home gym. Jade moaned at the site and decided to be a little bold. She clicked on the post share button and posted him to her story with the caption “Mmmmm looking fine. #MCM” Unbeknownst to Jade, a fellow fan who followed her, saw her post and decided to screenshot it and tag him and Jade both. Jade was a singer with moderate fame and a small following on various social media sites so it was a big deal when she posted other celebs. Jade decided to call it a night and soon was off to sleep.

                                               _______________

The next morning she awoke to the incessant buzzing of her phone and a missed facetime from her bestie Malina. She didn’t bother with her notifications but chose to return Malina’s call.

“Malina girl what’s up.” Jade spoke as she sleepily rubbed her eyes.

“Well judging by your calm ass demeanor, I guess you haven’t been on ig or twitter?” Malina said.

“Uhhh no. Did something happen?” Jade asked.

“Girl! You’re blowing up! Apparently some fan accounts of Zabdiel caught your story and posted it on their pages. Well Zabdiel saw it and reposted it.” Malina said. Jade damn near short circuited when Malina said that last bit.

“Malina, imma call you back.” Jade hung up and immediately checked her instagram. She had thousands of notifications. She checked her dms and almost passed out. There on top was a dm from Zabdiel himself.

“Hey sorry if this is weird but I saw the post and I’m flattered. I’m going to this industry party later on tonight and I saw your name was also on the guestlist and was wondering if we could meet in person. 

Jade had to compose herself before she responded or else she’d definitely make a fool of herself.

“Shit I’m just now seeing this. Yeah I’ll be there tonight and I’d love to meet up. See you tonight!

Jade was just about to exit her dms when she saw he replied with a smiley face. She liked his response then sat her phone on her side table and decided to get ready for her day.

                                                 _______________

She arrived at the party a little late due to her indecisiveness. After she tore her closet apart, she finally settled on a simple black long sleeved crop top with a red plaid skirt, and some black doc martens.

She walked into the venue and was immediately hit with the smell of weed. She also took note that there was a group of ppl doing lines of coke at a vip table. Jade made her way to the open bar and ordered herself a watermelon whisky sour. Zabdiel spotted her as soon as she walked in thanks to her posting her look on ig beforehand. He made his way over to her and tapped her on the shoulder.

“Jade?” Zabdiel asked.

“Zabdiel! Hey!” Jade said. Giving him a hug. She marveled in his sweet, cinnamon scent.

“You’re better looking in person, well you fine as hell so I don’t know what I was expecting.” Zabdiel spoke.

“And you’re taller in person. Gotta admit, I was expecting a hobbit or something.” Jade joked. Zabdiel was amused, especially since he towered over her.

“Well I’m glad I could disappoint you.” He joked back. Their banter went on for a bit before they found a vip table to sit and talk. They talked about music and Jade was taken aback when Zabdiel admitted that he listened to her music.

“Wait really? Quick, what’s your favorite song?” Jade inquired.

“Oh that’s easy. Don’t Tempt me is by far my favorite song of yours. Your vocals were like fucking butter on that shit. I wanted to remix it when I first heard it.” Zab said.

“Well what stopped you?” Jade asked.

“I wanted you to sing on it.” Zabdiel said. Jade smiled at that and finished off her drink. After talking for a little bit more. Zabdiel and Jade made their rounds then dipped from the party. 

                                            _______________

Jade and Zabdiel were jamming out to some of his unreleased tracks in his home studio. Jade insisted on hearing some more of his music and Zabdiel happily agreed. They were going back and forth posting each other on their ig stories, causing a frenzy amongst their fans.

“I bet our fans are dying right now.” Jade laughed. A new unreleased track played and Jade got hype. She loved songs that made her wanna shake her ass and that’s exactly what she did. What she didn’t know was that Zab was filming and posting a video of her twerking to his ig story.

“Did I tell you how fine you were already?’ Zabdiel said as he moved closer to her. Jade smiled at him and turned to face him. She ran her finger down his chest and smirked.

“You did but I don’t mind you telling me again.” Jade smiled then leaned in, planting a soft kiss on his lips. She pulled back and smiled at him. She got up to move but he grabbed her and hoisted her up. She wrapped her legs around him as he trapped her between his warm body and the wall. Zabdiel kissed her, more passionately this time. He slipped his tongue in her mouth, making her moan as she sucked on it. They made out for a bit before Zabdiel fell back onto a sofa in his studio, Jade in his lap. She was grinding on him, feeling him get hard. Zabdiel moved his hand so that it was positioned near her warm heat. He started rubbing languid circles on her clothed pussy. Her moans were music to his ears. He sped up his movements until he felt her wetness seep through her underwear. Jade was a mess and he loved it.

“I wanna fuck you so bad. You want me to fuck you babygirl?” Zabdiel asked.

“Yes. I want you to fuck me so fucking bad.” Jade moaned. Zabdiel didn’t need to be told twice. He pushed his pant’s down just enough for his dick to pop out. Jade was mesmerized. He was bigger than she was used to but she was gonna take it like a big girl. Jade jerked him off a few times then spit on his dick. She pulled her underwear to the side and sank down on his length. She marveled at the fullness she felt. Zabdiel almost bust right then and there. 

“Fuck you’re so tight. You feel so good wrapped around my dick baby.” Zabdiel sighed. Jade started bouncing on his dick, biting her lip to conceal a loud moan that threatened to escape her mouth.

“God you feel so good inside me…...fuuuuuuuck.” Jade moaned. She got into a squat position and rode Zabdiel’s dick. He was in heaven and felt himself about to cum. He lifted her shirt, revealing her bare breast. He took her left one in his mouth while he played with the right. As he continued sucking on her left nipple, he moved his other hand to her clit and rubbed quick circles. Jade felt herself about to burst. Her movements got sloppier as her orgasm came crashing down upon her. Jade sat fully on his dick, attempting to milk him for all he was worth.

“Yes that’s it baby, ride this dick. Fuck I’m cumming shit…..shiiiiitttt.” Zabdiel moaned. Jade hopped off of him and got down on her knees. She caught every last drop of cum as it shot out of his dick. She stuck her tongue out to show him that she’d swallowed it all, Zabdiel smiled. She was a keeper.

                                            _____________

“You should produce my debut album.” Jade said as she laid on Zabdiel’s sofa watching him work.

“Damn. Dick was so good you're giving me jobs now?” He laughed.

“Don’t get cocky. I’ve always wanted to work with you but my management wouldn’t let me reach out to you. Thank god you slid in my dms though.” Jade said, giving him a smile.

“I’m glad too. If you really want me to, I'll produce your shit, on one condition though. You go out on a date with me.” Zabdiel said. 

“Hmmmm………..okay.” Jade said.

“So it’s a date?” Zab asked.

“It’s a date.” Jade smiled.