#ahh idk what to tag this yet

[cometiny]

So I was thinking a lot about how the magic in MLP:FIM might work if there was an official system, and I kind of ended up making my own and coming up with a little bit of lore to go a long with it. I don't know if anyone has done anything similar before because it's honestly not too complicated - these are just some ideas I had that made the most sense to me, along with a few original concepts :3

Essentially;

There are 9 Types of magic: Earth, Sky, Water, Fire, Sun, Moon, Love, Dark and Chaos. The first Six are called Arcanas, which creatures are able to become bound to. Creatures that are connected to an Arcana are called Kins, such as Earthkin or Skykin. Members of the same species can look very different if they are bound to different Arcanas, this is due to magic-dimorphism.

Earthponies are naturally Earthkins. They are often overlooked, though Earth magic should not be underestimated. Their magic influences plants and minerals in many significant albeit subtle ways. Plants grown in the vicinity of earth ponies grow faster, healthier, more nutritious and even tastier. Flowers become more vibrant - the honey made from said flowers is sweeter. Herbs that heal become more powerful, as well as herbs that harm… Potions, medicine and agriculture are all traditionally practiced by Earthponies. They also have an incredible sense of smell, hearing and taste.

Pegasi, bound to the Sky Arcana, grow wings and feathers in the womb as a result of magical dimorphism. They also tend to be shorter on average. The Sky Arcana influences weight and speed, which allows Pegasi to fly easily despite their short wingspan in relation to their bodies. They are the only ponies with the ability to walk on clouds. In fact, their near weightless hooves allow them to be so delicate, that they build entire cities out of clouds. They tend to be physically weaker on average, but they make up for it by being incomparably fast.

The unkin Unicorn is not bound to any particular Arcana, but they have the ability to draw magic from external sources and command it to their will. This means they can even combine different Arcanas to perform complex spells. Though this requires that they are able to differentiate between the Arcanas - which is difficult, as they are only barely detectable waves. Most Unicorns can therefor only perform a small amount of simple spells such as "telekenesis" (really just a sky spell affecting the weight of the object and the air around it) or flow spells (the kind that Arcanakins already intuitively perform all the time) The Unkins ability to use magic from external sources allowed for the evolution of three more Arcanakins:

The Kirin, bound to the Fire Arcana, were the first to evolve from Unicorns. Their evolution also lead to the discovery that different types of magic have particular effects on personality; despite Kirins coming in all varying personalities, they're all susceptible to extreme (fiery) outbursts if angered. This frightened other ponies and lead to their banishment. The Fire Arcana influences temperature and light, They have evolved separated from pony kind for long enough to be classified as a divergent species - hybrids are possible, but typically infertile (like mules)

Moonicorns evolved from Unicorn shamans that specialized in Moon magic, a small colony of which traveled to the moon itself to come closer to the magic source. The Moon Arcanas pleasant effect on the mind lulled them to stay on the planet and eventually become bound to the Arcana and evolving into the Moonicorns we know today. They are not yet fully divergent, but are thought to be on their way - hybrid foals born on the moon will always be Moonicorns, foals born on earth will come after the other parent, only if two Moonicorns both mate on earth will the foal also be born a Moonkin.

Changelings, bound to the Sun Arcana, also evolved from Unicorn shamans. Contrary to their Moon counterpart, however, they do not live on the fucking Sun. Their magic gives them an almost uncanny healing ability, even regrowing limbs if lost and experiencing almost no pain in the process. Just being near them can somewhat transfer those abilities to others (the closer the better ;3c). They may change colors in a matter of seconds under extreme emotions. And most famously, they can adopt the appearance of anyone they've seen before, (although only as accurately as in their memories, and only for so long before their magic runs out)

However, a body so malleable requires vast amounts of Sun magic to upkeep - each additional part of their bodies is designed to collect more Sun magic, such as the gems on their chest, which work like batteries, or their wings, which work more like solar panels. Even then they are required to use Love as a magic amplifier, lest their bodies begin to rot and fall apart.

Other ponies grew weary of their abilities, which wasn't helped by some of them being genuinely manipulative. Any Changelings that were found out were quickly banished or killed which lead to them evolving separately. They are a fully divergent species - Hybrids possible although infertile.

Kelpies, the Waterkin, are actually the first to evolve directly from regular ponies, along with the Earthponies. Kelpies were so deeply drawn to their element that they never wanted to leave the water and evolved to be perfectly adapt to marine life, as well as being incredibly antisocial and even hostile toward any land living species. (They also have beef with the "Seaponies", which we know are actually Hippogriffs under a transformation spell and therefore not "real" Waterkins.) The Water Arcana influences Movement. In theory, every action has a certain flow to it, much like water. This flow is not necessarily visible but can be influenced, like putting a rock in a stream. Or even, combining two streams into one, which is why Water magic is required for fusion spells. This ability to affect movement makes Kelpies unbelievably powerful, luckily however, they choose to stay in the water and mind their own business. They are fully divergent - it is unknown weather hybrids are possible.

____________________________________________ Anyway! Hope you guys liked that, I'm open for questions if anybody wants to ask, that'll help me come up with more ideas, too so ask away please! :3

[rykno-j]

Ignorance (j/jk)

Summary: a new AC is installed to their shared dorm, and g/eto is (unfortunately) sensitive to the cold temperature

Ship: s/atos/ugu- they sleep together so its pretty established

Notes: i noted s/hoko calls g/ojo and g/eto by their surnames in the anime so i'll be keeping it the same way here.

the fic was just supposed to be g/eto falling sick due to the temperature, but it took a turn at the end where g/ojo experiences what a cold is for the first time.

3.2k words.

-----------------------------------------

"Waahh- It feels so much better in our room now.. Seriously, why didn't we ask for this sooner?"

"We never needed it before, it never used to be this warm."

"Ahh, ah yeah. It's because of global warming."

Geto opened his mouth to argue that it was due to them sleeping huddled together, buried in each others embrace that caused the heat, but he decided to keep quiet.

Satoru has recently invited him to sleep over permanenly, and after a few weeks, they decided to send in a request for an aircon.

In all honesty, Geto was fine with the temperature. But Gojo would wake up and complain about the heat, ending their hug. Geto was getting annoyed with it.

So now it whirled overhead.

Geto had not been able to sleep well, he admits this to himself only. He had never been too good with low temperatures, with the way his nose would start to run and with the way an itch would form at the back of his increasingly dry throat.

Tonight was no different. Despite being under the blanket and cuddled from behind, Geto found himself shivering.

It wasn't violent enough to wake Gojo up, though. Geto doubted anything would wake the other up anyway. They had tired each other out after a whole night of activity, the weight of Gojo's fingers still somewhat lingering over his wrists.

Geto stares at the small green light of the aircon. Too cold. It was way too cold.

He inhales sharply as gojo hugs him tighter from behind. Right. Satoru had a habit of doing that.

Unfortunately, the wave of cold air that entered his lungs was quite unwelcomed. Geto could feel it tickling his airways.

"..hih-N'Gxt!!"

He didn't remember it being this bad the first day the aircon got installed. It had to be his lack of sleep. More than that, his throat had been uncharacteristically dry since a few days ago

Geto swallowed as a way to test the waters. No pain. He was fine, at least for now.

Pulling the blanket up to his chin, Geto exhaled, feeling the warm of his breath against his cheek. He's fine.

Morning rolled around much faster than he had anticipated.

----

"Ohayo Suguruu--"

Geto felt Gojo rubbing his head against his chest, bright blue eyes staring straight at him. He looked so endearing like this, Geto couldn't help but place a kiss on his forehead.

"Ohayo, Satoru.."

His voice had come out scratchier than normal, but he was sure it was overlookable due to it being early in the morning.

Gojo leapt out of bed, stretching himself awake. His hair poked out of his head from all different directions. To that, Gojo quickly ran a hand down his scalp.

Geto smiled to himself. Waking up like this everyday was pure bliss. Now if only he wasn't as tired as he was..

"Suguruu- c'mon, we need to go for our morning run before Sensei comes for our throats again."

Not waiting for Geto's response, Gojo takes off his shirt, bending over to dig through the drawers for his school track uniform.

Geto watches from where he was, still lying down, a faint blush dusting his cheeks. Satoru looked so damn good just by doing absolutely anything.

"Suguru? Aren't you getting up? We have to go."

"Mm, I'll catch up later.. wna lie down a little bit more."

"Ehhh..? Something wrong? Did I tire you out too much last night?" Gojo looked over to him, slight mirth in his eyes.

"Yeah, exactly that."

"Ahh, I'm sorry, heheh." (he was not sorry). "I'll see you at the track then. Half an hour max, alright? You need to run at least a round to make it convincing."

"Mm.."

Gojo turned to leave the room, before he changed his mind, scrambling over to where Geto was, leaning over to press a kiss against his temple.

"Okayyy, byeee-♡"

Geto huffed to himself. Seriously, who was the older one here? Still, he would do anything for the other. Anything.

"..hiH' hitchh-w!! hah'tzchh!!"

Anything. Even at the expense of himself.

Geto knew sooner or later he would come down with something. He always did, whenever the temperature got a little low. During the winter seasons, it was absolute hell. But at least he could dress warmly then.

In their shared dorm? Not so much.

"..hAH'dZzchh!! ..snff-"

The back of his wrist was already coated with a layer of mist. Nothing he couldn't handle. Some sleep would get rid of it, he was sure.

Geto blinked at the green light of the air-conditioner. He should.. he should really switch that off..

Curling into the warm pocket of space that Gojo had left behind, Geto drifted off once again.

-----

"Suguru- SUGURU-!!! Oiii, I thought I told you half hour max?!"

What was going on?

Geto was shaken awake, bright light invading his eyes as he opened them. The warm blanket around him was then yanked off roughly. A shiver ran down his spine.

"Satoru-"

"QUICK! HE'S GOING TO MAKE US CLEAN THE STOREROOM AGAIN!"

Geto felt his wrist being pulled as he was lifted off the bed. Another tug sent him flying out of the room, Gojo pulling him towards the shared bathing area.

He felt cold water splash onto his face.

"?!"

"Water. We have to make it convincing that you ran a few laps." Gojo stepped back, analysing him for awhile. "Alright. You look tired enough to pass, let's go, quickly!"

"Satoru.. I'm still in my sleepwear.."

"Heh? ..Eh?? EHHH-!!"

Gojo led him into the courtyard after a quick change of clothes. The sun had barely started to rise. Added with the consistent evaporation of the water on his skin, Geto couldn't help the light quivers that ran down his frame.

Really.. every morning with Satoru was sure to be an entertaining one, albeit tiring.

-----

Lunch was no different, say for the dull throbbing that had started to form throughout his head. Beside him, Gojo was talking on and on about how ugly his piece of lettuce looked.

"Shoko-!! I'm telling you! It looks juuust like the curse we exorcised last week. This part is its arms, here's the head.. Suguru- oi Suguru, it looks like it, doesn't it?"

Geto felt a jab to his rib.

"What-?" (his voice broke)

"It looks like it, right? Right?"

"Mm, yeah, yeah it does.." What was Satoru on about this time?

"See?!!" Gojo leaned back happily, waving the food item in front of Shoko, who looked extremely unamused.

Geto stared at his own tray. Inbetween closing his eyes, rubbing his temples and trying not to sneeze, he swore he had eaten more than what was left on his plate.

There was still time before the next lesson. If he took a rest now, his body might just make it in time. With that, he stood up.

"I'm going back first."

"Hahh? Suguru- I thought we were supposed to play basketball later?"

"Mm, yeah. I'm going to go get ready first."

Gojo flashed him an OK! symbol before he turned back to the table.

Now it was just a matter of how long he could keep up this guise.

Geto slid open the doors to the dorm, a wave of cold air 'welcoming' him. If he hadn't been gripping onto the door frame, Geto was sure his knees would have given way.

Shit. With their hurry this morning, they had forgot to turn off the aircon. Geto swears that if he pours water on the floor, it was going to freeze over.

The controller. Where was it? He had to turn this monstrosity off.

Geto fumbled through the mountain of Gojo's belongings on the table. Seriously, Satoru had to learn how to tidy up after himself.

Admist the searching, Geto accidentally knocks off one of their long metal rulers, and it hits the floor with a loud clang.

There goes the rest of his headache.

Finger pressed against his temple, Geto gave up looking for the controller. He wouldn't be surprised if Gojo had accidentally stuffed it into his school bag, which was currently on his person.

Well whatever.

Geto pulled open the cupboard with an effort, pulling out a few of his thicker jackets meant for winter. Throwing them onto the bed, Geto joined them shortly.

He would keep them before Satoru came to bug him for the game of basketball. He would keep them before- before..

Geto's eyelids felt heavy. He'd finish that thought later.. later.

-----

Back at the lunch table:

"Gojo.."

"Mm?" He pauses mid-bite. "What is it?"

Shoko sighs, playing with the lighter between her fingers. "You need to be a lot more sensitive, you know that?"

"Sensitive? You mean to cursed energy? My eyes already do that, don't worry."

"Idiot. I meant that you should be more sensitive to Geto."

"..Suguru? My eyes can tell apart his cursed energy from others."

Shoko sighs again, pressing her lighter onto the table. "Not that."

"Then? You mean I should be less rough with him when we-"

"Not that! I Do Not want to hear about that!"

Gojo smirks. "Alright, alright."

"..Anyway, didn't you notice anything wrong with him?" Shoko says instead.

"Mm? Ah.. I guess Suguru hasn't insulted my intelligence today."

"That's why I'm doing it right now."

Gojo feigns hurt as Shoko pulls out a cigarette.

"Cutting to the chase, Geto seemed barely able to stay awake just now."

He supposes she does have a point. Suguru had been exceptionally sluggish today, but he was sure it was nothing to be worried about, nothing a sugared drink can't fix.

"..Seriously Gojo, didn't you notice how tired he looked when he left the table?"

In all honesty, he had not.

"..So, do I really need to spell it out for you?"

Gojo sheepishly looked away as Shoko shot him a look that screamed "you suck!"

"I'll go check on him."

"Mm, thank me later."

-----

In the hallway:

Gojo made his way quickly to their dorm. Now that Shoko had mentioned it, he couldn't get it out of his head that something had indeed been up with the other.

Firstly, what was up with that whole 'sleeping-in' episode? He knew for a fact that Suguru was always the one chasing him to get changed and leave.

And Geto hadn't asked him to stop playing with his food during lunch, not once. Even though he was normally the one who ensured that Gojo's food actually made its way into his mouth.

Not to mention leaving the table alone. Suguru almost never went anywhere without him.

Picking futher, Gojo remembers how tired Geto looked in the morning, as if he didn't get a wink of sleep.

Had he really not noticed before?

Thinking about it now would do him no good. Steadying himself, Gojo slides open the door.

----

"Suguruu- are you there?"

Even in the dim room, Gojo could make out the mess of blankets on their bed. He could hear Geto's shallow breaths. They sounded.. rough.. for someone who was supposedly asleep.

Something was definitely wrong. Hadn't Suguru said he was heading back to the dorms to get changed for basketb- oh. Oh of course. How could he have been so dense? The other had probably said that in an attempt to escape the lunch table.

Gojo closes the door behind him, afraid the light from outside might wake Geto up. He clenched his fist. Open, close, open.

Dammit.

How was he supposed to approach the other?

Gojo had never been in a situation like this before. In his eyes, there was nothing wrong with Suguru. His flow of cursed energy was stable, though muted. But that normally happened when he was asleep.

What was wrong, then?

As Gojo neared the bed, he saw the edge of the blanket get tugged upwards.

He reached over, tugging the blanket back down.

"Suguru, are-"

His eyes widened.

Gojo remembers how his teachers would drill into his head the concept of "searching for signs of curses using their residuals" when he first joined Jujutsu High.

Of course, he could already do that naturally with his six eyes.

But this. This was something else entirely.

What he saw in front of him was not something that would ever have been written into any mission handbook.

Gojo's eyes traced over what was presented to him when Geto looked at him hazily, as if he just woke up from restless sleep.

Cheeks flushed.

Eyes unfocused.

Nose tinted pink.

Small quivers in the fingers gripping the blanket.

"Sa-toru..?"

And when he spoke, it was as soft as ever, with an added edge of roughness that made Gojo's heart run laps around his ribcage. His voice sounded like a running river that had flowed over a particularly rocky path.

If residuals showed signs of curses in the area, what did these show?

Gojo reached out gently. He wanted to know, needed to know.

"Sugu-"

Before he could finish the sentence, however, Geto turned sharply to the side.

"..hh' w-wait.. I.. hH'gNxXt!! ..hAH'nGxt!! .. snff-!! ..m'sorry.."

"Aahh- no. It's okay- are you okay?" Gojo felt his voice catch in his throat. He had never seen Geto like this before. It scared him.

But a part of him subconsciously made his hand move to Geto's neck, pressing in softly.

He was warm, extremely warm.

In an attempt to help, Gojo tugs the blanket off Geto's body.

"..Suguru, you're going to give yourself heatstroke, take the jackets off.."

"N-No, you don't g-Hh'!! ..get it.. it's c-chH'!! hah'Ngxtt!! hih'dNxggt!! hH'gNxx-chh!! ..it's cold.."

"It is?" A genuine question.

Gojo turned to the messy table, digging through the mess of papers and unopened sweet packets. When he came up with nothing, Gojo turned to another messy pile on the floor.

"Why didn't you just say something?"

Geto watched as Gojo fished the remote out from under a discarded mission file.

The aircon went off with a beep, leaving behind a sudden dense feeling in the air. The shift in pressure placed a fuzzy feeling in Geto's sinuses.

"..hh'nGx-tch!! hH'gNxxt-iw!!"

Gojo tilted a curious head in his direction.

"Why are you still sneezing? I turned it off."

Geto shot an annoyed glance at him. "That's n-not ..hH-! ..h'Ngxt!! ..not how colds work."

"Oh." Gojo replied, dumbfounded.

"..Do you even know what that is?"

To that, Gojo nodded. "Yes, but I was told that colds are a sign of weakness, that I shouldn't get them, because I'm supposed to be the strongest, so I don't have much experience with them."

"Who told you that..?"

"The people who raised me, of course."

Geto was suddenly glad that they no longer had a hand in raising his friend. Seriously, driving these thoughts into the head of a child was wrong, even if said child was the bearer of two of the most broken abilities.

"Anyway.." Gojo continued, "Suguru, you sure it's a cold? You're strong too, so I didn't think you could.. get colds."

Geto sighed. One step at a time, it seems.

"Everyone can get them."

"Ah, really?"

"..Surely you've gotten a fever before?"

"Fever?"

Geto sighed again, reaching out to grab Gojo's hand, pressing it against his forehead.

"Tryna tell me how hot you are?" Gojo smirks slightly. "Seriously though, isn't that because you've literally dressed yourself for winter?"

He points at the jackets Geto had sitting around him.

Geto exhales slowly from his mouth. Just how was he going to explain this?

"..When someone falls sick, they get a fever, and that makes them feel cold, because of the difference in temperature between the body and the surrounding air."

"..Then why didn't you just turn the aircon off just now?"

"Because I couldn't find the damn remote through all the mess!" After raising his voice slightly, Geto turns away to cough softly into his fist. Ah, he shouldn't have done that.

Next to him, Gojo reaches for the half empty bottle of water across the table before uncapping it, passing it to the other.

For someone so seemingly oblivious to the things happening around him, Satoru was surprisingly considerate at times, Geto notes with a smile.

"That doesn't explain why this is all pink though," Gojo says suddenly, stepping up so he can press a finger to the very tip of Geto's nose.

"Sa-hH'!! hIH'dZtcHH!! haH'EhkshH!! ..Satoru! Don't..dohH'!! ..hi'tgNxtt!! ..don't do that.."

"So that's how your sneezes sound like without you pinching them away!"

Geto froze in place. Ah.. the fit had set on so quickly that he didn't have time to stifle. He hadn't even realised. A blush creeped up onto his cheeks.

"Seriously though, why do you always do that?"

Geto looked away, hoping the flush wouldn't deepen. "It's not.. well, it's not-"

"..Everyone does it, right?" Gojo interrupted. "Just like you told me everyone can catch colds, everyone sneezes too, so why are you so shy about it?"

"..Well yes, but using that same logic, you won't just change your clothes in front of anyone, would you?"

Gojo went silent for awhile, as if he was contemplating something deeply. Seconds later, he turned to Geto with a small smile.

"So I'm special then!"

"Hm?"

"Because you sneezed in front of me."

Before Geto could calm himself down enough to give an answer, Gojo bent down, pressing his lips gently against the edge of Geto's eye.

"Suguruu, was the aircon really bothering you that much? You've got eyebags."

"Mm."

"Why didn't you say anything then?" Gojo asks again.

"..You were enjoying it, so I thought I'd-"

"Sacrifice yourself for me??"

"..It's not that dramatic, Satoru."

"Yeah but still," Gojo pouts a little before speaking. "I would have suffered through the heat for you."

Yet again he proves to be considerate. How was he to respond to that?

"But then you always.. always-" ..always break the hug when it gets too hot. Geto catches himself before the rest of that sentence slips out, but the other seemed to get its implication.

"I didnt want us to wake up all sweaty, that's all. But if you're okay with it, I won't let go."

Geto opened his mouth in an attempt to deny the fact he liked being hugged, but Gojo quickly circled around to his side of the bed, leaning forward to kiss Geto's temple.

"I heard sleep helps to make colds better."

"That's what I was trying to do before you barged in and tugged my blanket off."

"Heh, a consequence of moving in with me."

"Mm. I'm not backing out, though."

"Hah! As if I would let you do such a thing."

Geto couldn't help the soft laugher that escaped him, even if it made him bend over with a light coughing fit.

"Alright alright.." Gojo said, patting Geto's back gently. "Take off the damn jacket, I wna hug you."

"..As you wish."

----

The rest of the day was spent lazily in bed, with Geto occasionally waking up just to dissolve into rapid fits that left him exhausted and clinging onto Gojo for comfort.

Seriously, if colds made Suguru this touchy, he wouldn't mind helping the other through a few more.

-end-

-------------------------------------------

Finishing notes:

Filling up plot holes: the teacher cancelled lessons for the rest of the day, since it was hand-to-hand combat. with geto sick and gojo having no partner to spar with, the lesson was postponed. that's why satosugu could just stay in bed. ofc, they would have either way.

Yeah gojo caught geto's cold after this, and experienced his first sick, yay!

Sorry for the once again plot>snz fic, but that's normally how my stuff goes

Also at the beginning of the fic i wonder if anyone got the global warming reference hahsvagj

tysm for reading agshhs

-- 2 weeks to Shibuya --

[wheeboo]

tell me that you love me | joshua hong {part two}

SYNOPSIS. in which you and joshua are simply different in more ways than one, yet only seem to find a common ground in struggling to chase your dreams. so why does life keep throwing you two at each other, despite your different worlds, and why does it feel so terrifyingly right? PAIRING. musician!joshua hong x deaf-artist!reader (ft. cafe owner!jeonghan, musician!seokmin, best friend!seungkwan, best friend!wheein, producer!jihoon) GENRE. fluff, slice of life, kdrama romance-esque, mild angst, strangers to friends to lovers, slow burn WARNINGS/TAGS. cursing, shua and reader has some self-doubt issues :(, someone makes insensitive comments about reader, mention of alcohol (beer), mention of cigarettes, everyone ships them, kissing, terms of endearment, Softie Domestic Joshua™, it conveniently rains when they're together, this is 85% fluff and 15% plot and the brainrot was giving me an existential crisis, honestly there's not much warnings it's just a love story <3 WORD COUNT (FOR PART TWO). 17k WORD COUNT (FOR FULL FIC). 37k

notes: for some reason even tho this whole part is almost as long as the first part it still feels rushed asf lmao. there are a bit of time skips between most sections, and prob a noticeable decline in quality the more u read HAHA. idk what else to say other than i hope you all enjoy and thank you for joining me on this journey <3 your feedback and reblogs mean the world to me !!

part one | part two

The taste of the salty breeze is sharp on your tongue. Sand raids onto your sandals and crawls playfully up to your ankles as you step foot on the expansive beach. 

“Ahh, it’s been a long time since we’ve gone to the beach!” Wheein exclaims proudly while running up to you and locking arms with yours, her hair tied back in two french braids, the carefree grin to her face infectious as ever. “No sad thoughts today. We’re here to have fun, ‘kay?”

She grabs you by the shoulders and eagerly shakes your body before you have the chance to respond. Wheein is right𑁋no sad thoughts today, it is. Seungkwan dashes up from behind as well, carrying with him two plastic bags full of drinks and snacks when the three of you stopped by the convenience store earlier. You carry a large blanket in your grasp as you all make your way to a spot a good distance away from the water. Ah, and you’ve brought your camera along too. 

It turns out that Wheein and Seungkwan had planned a surprise trip to the beach solely to celebrate your art being selected for the museum. But even though that didn’t happen, they still wanted to cheer you up and lift your spirits (meaning, they stood by your front door for nearly half an hour and constantly shone their phone flashlights to get your attention inside, practically dragging you out of bed. You still love them either way). 

The beach isn’t that busy at this time in the late afternoon during a weekday, so finding a quiet spot is easy. You lay out the blanket on a patch of smooth sand, making sure it's free of any debris. Seungkwan sets down the bags of snacks and drinks, and Wheein helps arrange everything neatly.

The water laps calmly up the coast, stretching for miles under the soft glow of the sun. As you settle yourself on the blanket, you catch sight of a trio of seagulls flying peacefully overhead while feeling the warmth of the sand below you and the cool breeze hitting your skin. 

It’s hard not to look at the picturesque scene right before your eyes. A sun, sunrise, or sunset on the beach is something you’ve painted many times before, but you probably wouldn’t tire of it. There’s a variety of colours that the sky contains𑁋from fiery oranges and bright blues to soft pinks and purples𑁋and many people would say it’s the easiest background to capture on a canvas. But you know better. 

Taking a hold of the camera around your neck, you adjust the lens and frame the seemingly endless skies right within the small viewfinder. The shutter clicks a few times as you capture the vibrant hues of the sunset slowly but surely beginning to take its course, freezing a moment of beauty in time. 

After taking a moment to review the photos, you bring the camera back up to your eye again and whip your head around with the intent of taking some candid shots. However, you certainly don’t expect to capture the face of Joshua mid-laugh. He's not looking at you, or the camera, but at Wheein and Seungkwan who seemed to have quickly dropped their belongings in order to greet him. There’s two other boys behind him too𑁋Jeonghan was one of them, the other one you weren’t able to put a name on, but the wide grin on his face was enough to tell you all that you needed to know. All of them are too far for you to be able to read what they’re talking about.

Happiness looks good on them, You think. 

Zooming out just slightly, a singular click is all you need to capture. It’s like everything that you need in a small, rectangular frame𑁋an encapsulation of pure joy. You lower the camera and take a few seconds to admire the candid show, the way the sun casts a golden glow on their faces, and the unguarded expressions of happiness that make the photo more than just perfect. 

Bringing your camera back around your neck, you stand up from the blanket and slowly approach the group. Joshua is the first to notice you come up, as he always is, and his face doesn’t shy away from seemingly brightening up. He’s wearing a plaid button down shirt with a few of its buttons undone, a seashell necklace around his neck, and a pair of black shorts. You also notice his guitar case slinging on his shoulder. 

You muster up a surprised look towards Wheein and Seungkwan about the guests you weren’t aware that were invited𑁋not that you’re complaining at all. 

Wheein waves a hand in front of your face, directing your attention towards her. 

“They’re here to sing!” she tells you, signing animatedly to you.

You lift a brow, letting your hands move in the air as if you’re conducting. “Sing?”

“I thought it would be a fun touch!” Wheein exclaims, then she steps closely right in front of you, seemingly lowering her voice and signing briskly so the others wouldn’t see, “I’m doing you a favour here.” 

“Y/N! This is Seokmin,” Seungkwan gestures to the boy who finally has a name standing right next to Joshua, spelling out the letters of Seokmin’s name with his hands.

Immediately, Seokmin switches whatever he was holding in his right hand𑁋a microphone stand?𑁋to his other hand before extending it out to you for a handshake in perhaps the most humourously, gentlemanly way possible. The goofy grin on his face is enough to make you giggle as you shake his hand firmly. 

“Nice to meet you,” You sign to him, and Seokmin’s eyes light up in awe at the way your hands move. He turns towards the others with a questionable look, and when they tell him what you signed, his grin widens even more. 

“It’s nice to meet you too!” Seokmin exclaims, the enthusiasm bouncing off him. Then he briefly glances between you and Joshua, wiggling his brows and adding, “I’ve been told a lot about you.” 

Glancing over at Joshua, you notice the way he brings his head down to his feet for a moment, but then he lifts himself back up and meets your gaze with a fond smile.

“Okay, you guys can go set your things up. Seungkwan and I will set up the snacks and drinks,” Wheein says. “I say we go in the water after the performance. Who’s in?” 

Right away, the remaining five of you come to a simultaneous agreement. Jeonghan, Seokmin, and Joshua begin to move towards a spot a little further down the beach where they can set up their equipment. Wheein and Seungkwan grab the bags with the food and drinks to set them up near the blanket, leaving you behind to soak in the sight of the beach once more. 

“Right here is good.” Joshua motions to a spot on the ground where Jeonghan sets up the speaker for the microphone. “Did you bring the extension cord?”

Jeonghan pleasantly rolls his eyes, shaking his head as he whips out the extension cord and connects it to the speaker with ease. “You really don’t believe in me, don’t you?” Then he glances past Joshua’s shoulders, smirking faintly to himself. “Target incoming. Six o'clock.”

Joshua turns his body around, wiping away the sand from his hands, and his eyes land straight on you approaching up to him. The corners of his mouth turn upward at the sight of you, dazed eyes lingering on the way you carry yourself quietly toward him. The sunlight catches in your hair, and the backdrop of the ocean makes you appear like a painting that had come to life. He quickly clears his throat.

When you come up to him, you hold out your phone towards him.

Didn’t expect to see you here today

Joshua stifles a half-hearted laugh, plucking the phone from your grasp to type right below your line. 

Is that a bad thing? 

As you read the message, you could only scowl playfully, before taking your phone back.

How did you even know about this anyway?

After scanning your message, Joshua glances around before pointing at something behind you𑁋to Wheein and Seungkwan, who were both dashing away from a wave that was washing onto the shore. 

“Your friends are really adamant about cheering you up,” he remarks teasingly. “I couldn’t just say no.” 

You could visibly see the utter panic in Wheein’s face from afar when Seungkwan nearly stumbles into the wet sand, her hands coming to grab the younger boy’s arm to pull him up. Then their faces shift into a fit of laughter. You really don’t know what you would do without them, honestly. 

“Thank you,” You sign to Joshua when you turn back to him. 

Joshua’s eyes roam over your face with a soft, contemplative expression. Then he motions down to your phone that was in your grasp, and you hand it to him, your fingers briefly brushing against each other.

A thoughtful look spreads across his features, before he types a response on your phone, fingers moving swiftly over the screen, and you read his message:

You look beautiful today.

The words on the screen seem to glow brighter than usual, and you feel a rush of affection flood into you like the waves at high tide. Your hand nearly goes limp, almost dropping your phone into the sands below, your heart stuttering in your chest as you regain your composure. For once, even communicating with your hands feels clumsy, inadequate. 

But before you can say anything, a damp hand lands at your shoulder, and you whip your head around to see Wheein standing there, hair dripping wet and chest heaving with exhaustion. 

“If we don’t start, I’m going to kill Seungkwan,” Wheein says while exaggeratedly signing, face scrunched up in annoyance. 

You scratch the back of your neck bashfully before turning off your phone and averting your eyes away from Joshua. You drag Wheein away to help her dry off while the others set up the rest of the equipment. 

By the time everything is set up, there’s a small gathering of curious beachgoers nearby who seem to be drawn by the preparation going on. Some were sitting on blankets spread out on the sand, while others stood in small groups at a respectful distance. 

You find yourself sitting on a blanket with Wheein and Seungkwan right next to you. The two of them were conversing with each other, and all you could do was watch Joshua. He takes out his guitar from the case before sitting on a folded up plastic chair. He runs a hand through his hair and seems to strum a few notes, probably checking the sound levels𑁋Jeonghan sends him a thumbs-up from the side. Seokmin also sits down in a chair right next to him, adjusting the microphone to his mouth and tapping a few times on its head. 

“Hello, everyone!” Joshua announces into the microphone. He’s too far away for you to read his lips properly, but he’s still signing for you, for you to understand even when you’re not directly in front of him. Did he practice all of this beforehand? “Thank you all for stopping by to listen.” 

It’s hard to fully catch what he signs next. He might be nervous, you think, but that’s still endearing in itself. The sun hangs low in the sky, casting a warm, golden hue over the beach, as Joshua begins to strum his guitar. Seokmin fixes himself up to the microphone, fingers tapping beats against his thigh. His face shifts into focus, eyes closing to the music taking over that you can feel reverberate through the fresh air. 

Joshua's fingers dance across the strings, then Seokmin's voice joins in. You watch their performance unfold, catching glimpses of their expressions𑁋Joshua's focused yet occasionally glancing your way with a reassuring smile, Seokmin's eyes closed in immersion with the music.

At the corner of your eye, you see Wheein and Seungkwan swaying to the music. When Wheein turns towards you, she reaches down to grab your hand into hers and lifts it up into the air with a grin, swaying your hands together from left to right. She also does the same with Seungkwan, and it’s just the three of you moving your bodies enthusiastically to the music as it swarms throughout the lively atmosphere of the beach. The small gathered audience around seem caught in the moment too. 

When the first song ends, you clap along with the others, feeling the exhilaration of the performance blossom within your chest. Joshua lets his eyes roam around, briefly settling in your gaze for a moment, and the sight of your genuine joy only encourages him even more. He nods to Seokmin, who flashes him a thumbs-up, and then they dive into the next song.

It’s an emotional one this time. You could tell from the pensive looks on everyone's faces𑁋Seungkwan seems like he’s even about to cry𑁋and it only makes you think what they’re singing about. But you don’t let it bother you; instead, you still slowly sway your body, closing your eyes and letting yourself immerse in the moment. 

Grains of sand slip through the cracks of your fingers. The sun has almost fully set at this point, merely just a golden half-circle sinking into the horizon. Water drips down your hair and skin onto the towel below you, goosebumps crawling its way up your arms from the night breeze that was beginning to settle in. You have no idea what time it is right now𑁋the beach is probably going to close soon, you think. 

The others are still wading in the water, except for Jeonghan who might be passed out on another blanket not that far away from you. The events from the past few hours have started to rain down on you, a small yawn leaving you as you use the towel below to dab at your legs. 

However, you feel something encase around you suddenly, and you perk up to the warm feeling of a towel being draped over your shoulders. Looking up, you see Joshua standing right above you, a towel of his own in his hands. He places himself down right next to you as if it was the most natural thing to do, and you let him. You like… being close with him like this. 

Joshua dries off his hair with the towel, and you have to take your gaze away from the fact that his arms are exposed because of the sleeveless black top he was wearing. His hair comes out in a loose mess, wet strands sticking to his forehead. He glances over at you for a second, sending you a brief smile, and again, you avert your eyes away, moving your neck around to ignore the heat creeping up your body. 

You don’t suppress the smile passing over your own face, though.

A light nudge at your side blinks you back to reality, making you turn to see an illuminated phone screen right in front of you.

Tired? 

That was all to make another yawn leave you once again. Joshua just chuckles at the way you angle your face away from the phone screen, trying to hide your weariness. He brings the phone back to type something else before showing it to you. 

Feeling happy though? 

You almost want to scoff at that, but you don’t. It’s hard to not notice the way you feel happy right now. Maybe you’re glowing or something, maybe the pain that you feel in your cheeks is from all the smiles that was plastered on your face throughout the day. Whatever it is, you can’t deny it𑁋yes, you feel happy. 

Joshua sees it too. There was probably no use in asking. The answer blooms on your features, perhaps brighter than the first stars beginning to twinkle above. 

And so, you simply nod. 

When Joshua retrieves his phone back, there’s a subtle shift in his face that was noticeable in the light. His fingers start typing across the screen, but then it stops, starts again, and stops. 

He turns to you, expression turning serious. “Is it okay if I ask you something? You don’t have to answer it if you don’t want to.” 

You huddle more into the towel and meet his gaze with a curious tilt of your head. His eyes flicker between you and his phone. After a few minutes of quiet contemplation, he hesitantly shows you the screen.

Have you ever wished that you could hear again?

For some reason, Joshua expects for you to be taken aback by the question, maybe even awkward or offended. But, instead, a relaxed look graces your features, a subtle curve at your lips, and you shake your head. Then you take the phone, typing out: 

Not really. When I lost my hearing at 7, I used to cry to sleep knowing I won’t be able to hear my parent’s voices again. But over time, I didn’t let it bother me. It’s a part of who I am. It doesn’t make me any less than anyone else. It doesn’t make the world any less beautiful than it is now. There will always be challenges, like missing out on a joke or an important announcement. But I’ve learned to find beauty in the little things. Like feeling music through vibrations, or how sunlight hits my skin and tells me that the day is beautiful. I could read people’s faces and feel their excitement or their sadness. These are sounds in their own ways. So no, I don’t really wish I could hear again. I’ve found my own way to listen and be heard. 

You even feel out of breath after typing all that out, but you feel lighter. Your heart feels completely vulnerable right now, all the thoughts swirling around you seem easy to catch in another’s hands. But Joshua is gentle with those thoughts, as if he’s placing them back down on the ground for you to navigate them together. You notice a flicker of something akin to awe wash over his features as he quietly reads your words to himself, a thoughtful crease forming between his brows. Then, he starts to type. 

For me, I’ve been surrounded by sound all my life. Voices, instruments, the noise of the city. It’s kind of hard to imagine going through life without it. I’ve learned to grow up analyzing tones, pitches, chords, and notes. And because of that I get afraid of being the one off-key. But I like being quiet with you. And I like talking to you. And I like getting to know you. There’s a part of me that thinks I wouldn’t get tired of looking at you. I don’t know if it’s the silence that helps me focus, but I just know it helps me focus on you. 

You swear you don’t even blink when you read over his words, once, twice, five times over. There’s a tugging at the strings of your heart, a sweet ache spreading through your chest, a sensation much to the pull of the ocean’s tide. When you draw your eyes away from the phone and to Joshua, his gaze meets yours in the middle, a hesitant question lingering painted over his features. 

He brings his hands once more. He points to himself first, then faces his hand towards his chest, putting his thumb and index finger close to his chest with the other fingers extended out. Next, he slowly moves his hand forward, bringing his thumb and index finger closer together. And finally, he points to you, like you’re the last piece of the puzzle.

“I like you.” 

A lump forms in your throat, and that familiar flutter of butterflies takes flight in your stomach, but it’s demanding this time and impossible to ignore. Letting your eyes drift over his face𑁋from his somewhat damp, tousled hair and down to the curve of his lips𑁋you know exactly how you feel.

Without hesitation; without doubt, you kiss him the next moment. It’s a tentative touch at first, making Joshua’s eyes widen in surprise and you pull away with uncertainty. For a second, he could only gaze at you, but then an adoring smile blooms across his face, an admiring sparkle in his pupils. Then he tilts his head just slightly, almost in a teasing manner, and leans back in to capture your lips against his once more. 

Even when your eyes flutter to a close, you still feel his smile against your skin, matching the warmth that spreads through you like strokes of paint on a canvas, like music that fills a silent space. Something comes to cover over your hand on the towel𑁋Joshua’s hand rest over yours, warm and securely, thumb coming to reassuringly rub over the skin there. 

When you pull away, you have the urge to bury yourself in the towel wrapped around you or run away in a fit of panic. You end up doing the former, burying your face further in the soft cotton. But Joshua doesn’t let you completely disappear, a shy chuckle of his own leaving his lips as he reaches out to gingerly tug the towel down just enough to reveal your eyes.

“Hi there,” he says softly, before some worry stretches across his face. “Are you okay?” 

You loosely release yourself a bit more from the towel’s grasp around you and meet his eyes with a small, reassuring smile. 

“I meant what I said,” Joshua continues. His hand still rests on yours while he lifts the other one to sign again, “I like you. I really do.” 

Glancing down at your laced hands, you absentmindedly brush away a few grains of sand that stuck to his knuckles. His skin is warm to the touch, and the intimate gesture makes you take a shallow breath. You lift your gaze back to this, and he follows the way you bring your hand up. 

You stick out your pinky finger, almost like a promise, and extend out your thumb as well, before moving your hand back and forth to sign,

“Me too.” You continue to run the tips of your fingers over his hand. I like you too.

“Did Seokmin tell you about Jihoon?”

Joshua sprays a bottle of disinfectant on a table before grabbing the rag that was hanging loosely on his shoulder. “Who?”

“The producer guy.”

The smell of the chemicals sends an unpleasant crinkle to Joshua’s nose. He pauses his cleaning for a moment. “Haven’t heard of him.”

“Well, he’s a producer apparently. A fairly new one. I think Seokmin mentioned that he went to high school and university with him𑁋wasn’t entirely close to him, though. Just a name that was sort of tossed around.” Jeonghan stops to take a loud bite out of a bag of chips. “But I’ve heard he’s got a studio opened now somewhere. So maybe…”

Joshua lightly chuckles. “You know I’ve gotten scammed from this type of stuff, right?”

“I’ve done my research.” Jeonghan promptly sits up in the chair (yes, he’s not helping with cleaning at all). “No heinous crimes have been committed. If anything, the only thing I could find on him is𑁋”

“Yo, Jeonghan! Where do you want this box of shit?” 

Jeonghan turns somewhat annoyedly towards the source of the voice: this guy named Wonsik that he had hired recently since having Joshua as the only other worker around was proving to be insufficient. Joshua can’t say he’s exactly a fan of him though. His attitude is a bit… brash, to say the least. 

“Just leave it in the storage room,” Jeonghan says, pointing in the direction with a chip in his hand. 

After wiping off the final corner of the table, Joshua feels his phone vibrate in his back pocket. As he takes it out and catches a glimpse of the notification, he can’t help but smile to himself.

Joshua takes off the apron he’s been wearing, neatly hanging it up on a hook by the door that was designated for staff.

Jeonghan catches him mid-chew. “Curfew time?” 

“Yep.”

“Gross,” Jeonghan mumbles sarcastically while crumpling up his bag of chips. “You know, just because you’re in a relationship now doesn’t mean you get to slack off on closing duties.”

Joshua rolls his eyes playfully. “Whatever, I’ll make it up tomorrow.”

Wonsik emerges from the storage room, catching Joshua’s attention with his loud, assertive footsteps and nearly running into him, the scent of cigarette smoke trailing behind him. He mumbles something about finally finishing taking in all the boxes, carrying the last one labeled with supplies, his expression a mix of boredom and disdain as he spots Joshua preparing to leave.

“Finally taking off, huh?" Wonsik sneers, eyeing Joshua up and down. “Off to be the hero for your little deaf partner?”

Whatever politeness Joshua had to his features had faded away in an instant, his jaw clenching tightly to the words. He adjusts the strap of his guitar case on his shoulder and meets Wonsik's arrogant gaze evenly.

“Watch your mouth,” Joshua says sharply, a warning edge to his voice that cuts through the room like a knife. 

“What? I’m just saying it must be hard to deal with them, that’s all. Like how do you even communicate? Doing your little hand stuff? Must be an ass to handle all that shit.” 

Joshua's nostrils flare at that, sensing his patience wearing thin at Wonsik's blatant insensitivity. His fists clench at his side momentarily, but he keeps in his anger, knowing that losing his cool most definitely won't help the situation at all. Taking a deep breath, he meets Wonsik's eyes with a steely glare.

“You have no idea what you’re talking about,” Joshua replies firmly. “Don’t you have some human decency and respect in you?” 

Wonsik just scoffs haughtily. That dumb, conceited smirk on his face widens even more as he leans casually against the counter, folding his arms across his chest. "Hey, I'm just saying what everyone else is thinking. It's not like I'm wrong, right? You could do so much better, man. You’re just pitying them because you feel bad.”

Just at that, his words strike a nerve in Joshua. “Y/N is more than capable of handling themself. They don’t need anyone else’s pity, least of all mine. So why don’t you mind your own business? Learn some respect while you’re at it, asshole.”

Wonsik shoots Joshua a final contemptuous glance before turning on his heel, shoving past Joshua, and disappearing back into the storage room, muttering something under his breath that Joshua isn’t bothered to decipher. 

Heading back into the main area of the café, Joshua stops right before the door to turn towards Jeonghan. “Do me a favour and𑁋”

“Don’t worry,” Jeonghan interjects, waving him off dismissively. “He won’t come back tomorrow.”

Joshua’s shoulders visibly relax at that. “Thanks,” And when his hand lands on the door handle, he stops again. “I’ll do that thing, by the way.”

“That thing?”

“Mhm.” Joshua just nods. “I’ll ask Seokmin about Jihoon.”

Joshua hums quietly after every pluck of his guitar string, twisting the tuning pegs at the head of the guitar with every note deemed off-key. The sounds leaving his guitar bounce off the walls of your apartment and blend with the smell of leftover ramen that lingers in the room. 

You sit across from him with two steaming cups of tea in your hand, carefully placing them on the coffee table in front of him. He glances up from tuning his guitar, eyes softening as they meet yours. Resting the guitar against the arm of the couch, he gratefully takes the mug that was waiting for him on the table, taking a quick sip of the jasmine tea you had prepared.

You peer at him worriedly, forming a claw shape with your hand and moving it downward to sign, “Hot?”

Joshua shakes his head, sipping once more and setting it back on the table. 

“It’s perfect,” he tells you reassuringly. 

Placing the guitar back on his lap, he positions his arms comfortably over it as if preparing to play something. Yet he catches the way your eyes watch his fingers glide over the strings. Joshua fixes his posture and presses his back against the couch behind. 

“Do you want to try?” he asks. His fingers rest lightly on the strings, demonstrating a chord before letting them hover, waiting for your response.

The hesitation within you is shunned aside from the subtle hope of his invitation. Warily, you shift closer to him, settling between his legs as he positions the guitar in your grasp. His hands cover over yours, guiding your fingers over the frets and showing you how to press down on the strings. The wood of the guitar is smooth under your touch, vibrating weakly as you pluck the strings a few times tentatively.

His breath fans over your skin as he leans closer to help adjust your grip on the guitar neck. You have to turn your head in order to see if he’s saying anything to you. His face is so close to yours now that you can see the fine details in his expression. There’s a slight tiredness in there too, but you don’t comment about it. 

Joshua's fingers move dexterously as he shows you another chord. This time, you press down with more confidence, and the sound resonates more clearly. He watches your face light up, and you can feel the vibrations of the strings through your fingertips. It’s a bit ticklish and you can’t help but giggle softly at the sensation. His hands still hover over yours for a few moments, but then he pulls back to give you a bit more space.

The chords you're playing aren't perfect𑁋they come out off-pitch and you aren’t able to tell, or the strumming patterns are a bit uneven𑁋but Joshua doesn’t mind. He doesn’t seem to notice or care about the mistakes. 

After some time, you cautiously set the guitar on the floor, letting it lean back against the couch. By the time you finish taking another sip of your tea, Joshua is already holding out his phone to you.

If I wanted to get your attention without accidentally scaring you, how could I do that?

A feeling of déjà vu slithers down your body at the question, and you could tell Joshua feels it too. Briefly, you think about the first time the two of you met. It’s quite surreal how far you’ve come already. 

You grab his phone to type:

I wouldn’t worry about scaring me like before, since I know that it’s you. I’m familiar with you. A small tap on the shoulder is okay, or you can flash your phone light. Wheein and Seungkwan do that to get my attention if they’re outside the door

Joshua reads your response, then shoots an understanding look, a thoughtful curve to his lips. The next thing that you catch is a yawn leaving him, which he tries to cover up with a sheepish smile.

“Tired?” You sign to him. 

“A little bit,” he replies meekly. “Just some things on my mind.” 

You tilt your head slightly, curiosity piqued at that. 

Joshua practically melts into the couch, the exhaustion in his posture evident as he stretches out his legs and lets out a soft sigh. 

“Work has been picking up a bit, people are ridiculous sometimes,” he starts, a twinge of frustration to his features. “I haven’t been able to go busking recently either, but… I think an opportunity came up. For music.”

Your eyes widen with interest, and you lean forward slightly, encouraging him to continue.

But he only hesitates. “I just don’t know if it’s worth pursuing. There are so many people out there who make big promises, but not all of them deliver. I don’t want to get involved in something that could turn out to be another dead end.”

A frown crosses its way across your lips. You can sense his apprehension and understand the reason behind it, but you also recognise the glimmer of hope in his eyes. Slipping out your own phone, you type:

You should go with what your heart is telling you to do. I’ll be there to support you either way :)

Your words drip of care and affection, feeling the uncertainty in his heart soften when he pinpoints the sincerity in your eyes. For a brief second, his gaze flickers down to your mouth before returning back up to your gaze. Without another word, he leans in, letting his lips brush against yours in a fleeting kiss. 

Even in the few weeks the two of you have been together, moments like these will take some time to get used to. It’s both intimidating and exhilarating, comforting and thrilling all in one. But it’s undeniable that it feels… right, natural. 

As cheesy as it sounds, that is what his heart told him to do at that moment𑁋to kiss you as a way to say thank you. A shy, boyish grin tugs at the corners of Joshua’s mouth when he pulls away. He takes a visible deep breath, as if drawing strength from your closeness, attentive eyes roaming over your face for any discomfort, but he finds none. The tips of your ears feel like they’re on fire, if anything. 

“Cute.” He lightly taps the bud of your nose, causing you to scrunch up your face in response. “Thank you. I mean it.” 

You only smile and nod under his gaze, signing with a simple, “I know.”

You lose track of time in front of the canvas when a yawn of your own leaves your mouth. Admittedly, it’s been hard motivating yourself to paint lately ever since your rejection at the exhibition, but somehow this time around, the colours on the canvas look more… livelier. 

You glance between the unfinished canvas and to the candid picture that you took that day at the beach of your friends’ smiling faces. If this is how you’re going to encourage yourself to get back into painting, then so be it: painting a moment that you could simply define as happiness. 

When another yawn leaves you, you swirl your paintbrush in a murky cup of water to clean it off before setting it aside. You stand from the chair and stretch, feeling the stiffness in your muscles from sitting in one position for too long. When you shift your gaze behind you, the sight that appears before you sends a leap of surprise through you.

Your eyes land on a sleeping Joshua, whose head rests against the arm of the couch, relaxed body slumped against the cushions, and one of his arms dangling off the edge. Tiptoeing over to him, you grab a blanket that Wheein had crocheted for your birthday from a nearby armchair and drape it over him. He shifts slightly at the movement but doesn’t wake, instead settling more deeply into the couch with a soft, contented sigh. 

You don’t have it in to wake him up, because this feels right𑁋him at your place, falling asleep, and a sense of peace floating through the air. 

If Seokmin didn’t come along, Joshua would probably have turned around on his heels by now and declined the offer. 

Apparently Jihoon’s studio was located in a somewhat sketchy part of the city, and it took only one tumultuous month later to finally set a date to meet up. Joshua glances around the area, taking in a few worn-down buildings and graffiti-covered walls, wondering if this is really the right place.

“This place better not be a dump,” Seokmin mutters under his breath, scanning around nervously. “I swear, Jihoon has always been a bit of a mystery, but he’s got talent for sure. He was practically the maestro of the entire music program back then.”

“And you reunited with him… how?”

“At the gym,” Seokmin answers, but it’s more under his breath as if he was a bit embarrassed by it. The sly laugh that leaves Joshua makes him jut out his bottom lip. “I wanted to know his workout routine! I didn’t even recognise him after all these years.”

Joshua just rolls his eyes, the lighthearted banter lessening some of his nerves. 

It would be his first time to walk into an actual studio. Somehow, Jihoon’s place was a good size to accommodate a variety of sound equipment and a living space at the same time. Compared to the gritty exterior, the inside certainly had more of a calming ambience. Neon lighting illuminated the room, casting a warm glow over the sleek equipment and musical instruments. Records lined the shelves and posters of artists decorated the walls, all bringing more character to the place. 

Jihoon himself was the epitome of calm and collected, bringing an aura of meticulous confidence that caressed every inch of the studio. He’s been working independently this entire time, and according to Seokmin, he's been steadily putting a name for himself in the underground music scene right after graduating from university. 

“So,” Jihoon starts, spinning around in the chair he was sitting on. Even when he was wearing a simple pair of sweatpants and a black tee, he still appeared effortlessly cool. “you’re a singer?” 

Joshua looks down at himself for a moment as if questioning his own presence here, fingertips gliding steadily over the strings of his guitar. “Yeah. Been busking for the past year or so. Played guitar for my entire life. I’ve written some of my own songs, too.”

Surprisingly, this is enough to convince Jihoon. “Alright, then. Show me what you got.” 

In its entirety, it was a surreal experience, and there’s just this inkling, this pinch of hope in the space between the tips of Joshua’s fingers whispering to him that he’s finally on the path to accomplishing his dreams. He’s never heard the sound of his voice so clearly before. Unlike the studio, there are no walls surrounding him when he busks𑁋only the open air, the street sounds blending with his music. But in the studio, the environment is different. 

It’s as if his music is finally being given the space it deserves to breathe and thrive, just like he had always wanted for it to do. 

The excitement is even evident in the way he’s gripping your hand as the two of you are walking back to your place together later that same night. Walking together has always been routine between the two of you, yet now there’s a certain lightness in the air knowing you both share the same love for these moments together. 

Joshua feels the way you squeeze his hand, and when he looks at you, you’re holding out your phone for him to read.

So are you planning on seeing him again next week?

A contemplative look crosses his face, but it doesn’t take long for the corners of his lips to curve up. 

“I think so,” he answers, eyes lighting up with optimism. “I think I might be getting to where I want to be, you know?” 

The excitement that trickles down his body flows through your interlaced hands, and you find yourself smiling alongside him. You love knowing you get to be a witness of this pivotal moment for him. You love seeing him happy just as much as you love being happy around him. 

When you reach the entrance of your apartment building, your hand still hasn’t left his. Joshua gazes past your shoulder towards the door, and then back to you.

“Are you sure you don’t want me to stay?” he asks, a teasing tilt to his head. “Even for just an hour?” 

You wiggle your eyebrows at him, only giving him a simple shake of your head. 

“Hm, am I that much of a distraction?” he muses, stepping just a tad bit more closer to you, and you know you’re digging yourself more into the ground at this point. “I love watching you paint though.” 

You attempt to power through the way his words send a jolt through you, stubbornly standing your ground with the most serious expression you could muster. It’s not that you don’t want him to stay with you a little longer𑁋because you might quite possibly set everything aside for him without a doubt𑁋but you’ve made it a goal to get back into painting on your own terms and slowly but surely regain your confidence. 

After putting on a small pout, Joshua’s gaze just softens. “Promise me you won’t stay up late?” 

You nod, feeling the warmth of his concern and signing, “Promise.”

He still doesn’t let go of your hand, his thumb coming to caress tenderly over your knuckles. Joshua’s eyes flicker to your lips, and he leans in slowly, giving you plenty of time to pull away if you wanted to. But you don’t. Then he leans in and pauses once more, nose briefly brushing against yours, before pressing a soft kiss to your lips. 

“Goodnight,” he signs when he pulls away, running a hand down your arm before reluctantly stepping back.

You could never get over the satisfying wave of relief that hits you whenever you complete a painting. 

The first time you finished a painting was when you were eight years old. It was a simple watercolour painting of your family house, distinctively placed on a large hill instead of being surrounded by your neighbouring homes. Your mother had stuck it on the refrigerator for as long as you could remember alongside other family photos until it got too worn out from being taken down and put back up so many times, even being forgotten at some points when other mementos covered it. The fridge seemed so empty without it.

Seeing that painting every day reminded you of the joy of creating something with your own hands𑁋filling a space with something beautiful and meaningful, just like you had envisioned it in your mind. It’s not just about copying the photograph you used as reference; it’s about translating those fleeting, joyful moments into something real. You want people to look at your painting and feel the same happiness, the same warmth that you felt in that moment. It’s about capturing a moment in time and making it last forever. This is what art means to you. 

“This is stunning, Y/N!” Wheein exclaims when you stand right next to her. “You made the sand look so real! And you used such a gorgeous gradient for the sky. You gotta give me some tips later! Have you thought about showing this to your teacher?”

You frown a little at that. You haven’t exactly been putting in the effort to show up at all. The sting of that rejection at the exhibition still lingers, making you hesitate to put yourself out there again. You’d rather put on a show for yourself before determining whether or not it’s worth sharing with others. 

“I don’t know,” You answer.

“That’s okay!” Wheein says brightly. “But whenever you’re ready, let me know. We can make a killer portfolio together.”

You let out a laugh at that, mentally taking note of her offer for the future. Wheein just nudges you lightly on the hip with her own.

“You seem so much happier lately,” she acknowledges teasingly, a sly smirk crossing her face. “probably because of a certain someone…”

You feel a light flush creeping up your cheeks, and you glance away with a smile that you can’t quite hide. It hasn’t even been that long since you and Joshua have been together. Yet even though you can call him your boyfriend, he still gives you the space to grow, to dream, and to be yourself, just as you do with him. And in those times you two are together, reveling in the quiet language of your hands, letting your guard down has never felt this easy. You could share a simple smile with each other and the world seems a little brighter, a little more colourful, and a little more hopeful and meaningful. 

“Oh my gosh, you’re smitten!” Wheein exclaims amusedly. “If that’s not love in your eyes, I don’t know what is.” 

Love. What a silly, little word𑁋so small, yet carries so much in between its letters. 

You just chuckle to yourself, savouring the way the word swirls around you.

[07:15 PM | y/n] are you nearing the place? I’m waiting by the front 

You turn your phone off and bring it down, searching around for any sight of Joshua. Passerbys fill up your field of vision, all of them rushing past or casually walking by with their own different lives, but you don’t see him among the crowd. You check the time again, noting that he’s already fifteen minutes late, but you remind yourself that he’s been at Jihoon’s studio for the majority of the day and has probably been busy. 

As you continue waiting, the slight chill of the evening air runs through your bones. It’s getting noticeably colder outside as winter is approaching closer and closer. You glance at your phone again, but the screen remains dark. Another ten minutes pass, and you could feel the worry creeping up your spine. It’s not like him to be this late without a reason.

The vibrant evening around you slowly begins to lose its charm, the excitement within you boiling down into a pit of disappointment, and the thought of standing alone any longer becomes unbearable. So, with a heavy sigh, you decide to walk away, pushing away the disappointment with every step that you take.

[07:28 PM | y/n] I’ll be heading home. let me know when you’re finished at jihoon’s 

You slip your phone into your pocket, feeling a twinge of sadness as you start walking towards the nearest crosswalk. Above you, the streetlights cast long shadows on the pavement below and swallow the lively colours of the evening. 

Approaching the crosswalk, the signal light shines a deep red, instructing you to stop and wait. A crowd of people all stop behind you as you wait for the light to change, and you become acutely aware of their presence surrounding you. 

Your eyes wander across the street, where the traffic light turns red, and cars begin to slow down. Anticipating for the light to signal for you to cross, a sudden flash catches your attention from across the street. It looks like a flashlight, and it was flickering in a deliberate pattern.

The moment the signal light turns green, the flashing stops, unraveling Joshua standing on the other side. People brush past you in order to cross the street, yet you can only find yourself frozen. There’s a flash of urgency you catch to Joshua’s features, and your focus narrows on him as he dashes across the street toward you. 

He’s breathless the second he reaches you, and his face is flushed with relief and desperation. 

“I’m so sorry,” he apologises, signing frantically to you. “I lost track of time. I tried getting on the bus to get here faster but the traffic was bad. I…” His shoulders sink in dismay. “I’m sorry.”

You just shake your head dismissively, but it’s not hard to miss the subtle hurt in your face and the way you sign back to him. “It’s okay. I know your music is important to you.”

“You’re my top priority,” Joshua says quickly, eyes intense with sincerity. “Let me make it up to you, okay?” 

His words send a flutter that makes your heart ache in your chest. Joshua reaches down and takes ahold of your hand in his, squeezing reassuringly. You feel a warmth spread through you as he intertwines your fingers.

“Would you like to have dinner back at my place?” Joshua offers, his lips curling up in a hopeful smile. “Jeonghan is staying at a friend’s place tonight, so it’ll just be us.” 

You look up at Joshua, your heart racing at the thought of spending the evening with him. 

“Okay,” You sign to him. 

It’s been years since the last time you saw a record player. Your parents used to have one in the corner of the living room. It was a vintage piece, and you remember how your father used to meticulously handle the vinyl records, placing them carefully on the turntable before lowering the needle. You didn’t hear the music that came from it𑁋the music that they played before you lost your hearing was vague to memory𑁋but you loved watching the way the needle danced across the grooves of the records.

Joshua has an entire vinyl collection, and you look through each one curiously. You see names like Amy Winehouse, Radiohead, Pink Floyd, Elton John, Frank Sinatra, Nirvana, The Beatles, and even some contemporary artists like Billie Eilish, Boys Like Girls, and Lana Del Rey. The covers of each one are like pieces of art themselves, with their vintage charm and intricate designs. 

When Joshua turns away from the stove, he looks at you, where you’re already peering at him.

“Do you want to play something?” You sign to him, thinking that he might want to listen to something while you’re here together. 

Joshua’s eyes only soften as he takes in your question. “You don’t have to play anything.”

You smile bashfully. “I want to.” 

He feels a tug at his heart at the pleading expression to your face. He briefly checks the food cooking on the stove before walking to where you’re sitting on the floor, his vinyls scattered in front of you. 

“Okay,” he tells you. “Pick whichever one you want.” 

Joshua watches as you carefully pick a vinyl𑁋you end up picking The Beatles, a classic𑁋and with practiced hands, he helps you place the record on the turntable and lowers the needle. You watch as the record starts to spin and the needle settles within the grooves.

You turn toward Joshua, signing, “Is it playing?” 

The sound that comes off the record player is a bit distorted at first, but after some time, it manages to smooth out. Joshua just nods, his face lighting up with a smile at the way you appear so engrossed by the spinning record. 

Dinner comes by in a jiffy. The singular kitchen light hangs above the small table that you both are sitting at, the aroma of Joshua’s cooking wafting through the air. It wasn’t anything spectacular, but the simplicity of the meal𑁋steamed vegetables, grilled chicken, and fluffy rice𑁋makes it all the more comforting. You definitely would have preferred this over restaurant food. 

You eat slowly, savouring the flavours of each bite. You can feel Joshua's eyes on you, and you can't help but smile.

“Good?” he asks. 

You give a few enthusiastic nods, and the sight lights up Joshua’s face even further. 

The record player was still faintly playing music in the background, yet the quietness that he gets to share with you is what he cherishes the most. It’s not awkward or forced; it’s a comfortable silence that pleasantly wraps around you both. The occasional pop or crackle from the record player blends in with the sounds of your contented chewing and the soft clinking of utensils.

Afterwards, you find yourself settling on the couch in Joshua’s living room as you wait for him to come back to the bathroom, and you take the time to peer around his space.

You already know that he’s living with Jeonghan too, so you love how you’re able to easily distinguish the small snippets that belong to Joshua. Apart from the collection of vinyl records, you also see a few microphone stands and a keyboard set up in one corner, as well as an empty guitar stand where you know his guitar belongs. 

Letting your eyes drift, the coffee table in front of you catches your attention. There’s a couple of coasters, the remote for the TV, a cute succulent in the middle. But then your eyes land on something else. 

On it, you spot a book laying flat on the table. Curiosity piqued, you reach over to examine it. The book is a sign language dictionary. You open it to find that it’s filled with detailed illustrations of hand signs, and throughout the pages you see Joshua’s handwriting scattered throughout. Some of the pages are marked with sticky notes, others you spot silly doodles of smiley faces in the corners. 

You hardly ever thought about the amount of effort he put into learning how to talk to you, to understand you. A small part of you feels bad that he has to go through all this trouble to learn sign language. But then you remember that he chose to do this, that this was his decision, not yours.

The spot on the couch right next to you dips down slightly as Joshua sits down. He glances at the sign language dictionary in your hands and glances at you with a soft, curious look, and it makes you look away sheepishly.

Dropping the book in your lap, you fumble for your phone, typing out:

You did all of this for me?

When Joshua reads the message, a small chuckle leaves him. 

“I wanted to get to know you better,” he tells you, your eyes flickering between his hands and his lips. “I don’t regret it at all.” 

As his words wash over you, you feel your fingers struggle to put together how much this is affecting you. You type after a few thoughtful moments. 

It must have been hard. I’m sorry

Joshua only shakes his head. “It was worth it. I promise.” He pauses for a moment, gears turning in his head. “Do you want to know the first word I wanted to learn?” 

You watch as he picks up his right hand, opening it up so that his fingers pointed up and his thumb toward his cheek. Then he fans his fingers across his face, and closes his hand in a relaxed fist to sign the word beautiful. 

“You’re beautiful,” he finishes, his fingers gracefully forming the sign again. “I happened to have thought that the first second you walked into the café.”

You could only stare at him incredulously. Even though it isn’t the first time he’s expressed this kind of affection in your few months of being together, it still takes you by surprise, still sends those surges of flutters shooting down your limbs, still makes your mind go blank and your hands go limp.

Cowering behind a hand of your own, you motion a shy finger at him, before rolling your hand over your face, then forming a Y-shape with your hand, and shaking it slightly.

“You’re beautiful, too.” 

Joshua purses his lip together at that, suppressing the giddiness threatening to stretch across his features.

“Well,” he starts, cocking his head to the side endearingly. He won’t ever get over how adorable you are when you’re flustered. “I say we compliment each other quite well then.”

From there, the two of you let out some shared, heartfelt laughter, and it sounds like absolute music to Joshua’s ears. He shows you the pages he’s gone through in the book𑁋from the alphabet and grammar, to basic common phrases, and to more, nuanced, complex sentences𑁋and it looks like he’s more than halfway done with reading and annotating through it. He eagerly points out the words and phrases he's already mastered, and the ones he's still struggling with. It's cute seeing the little doodles and notes he's written in the margins.

When he places the book back on the table and turns to you, a lightbulb goes off in your head.

“I can teach you,” You sign to him, a willing passion in your hands. 

Joshua lifts a brow, copying your movement. “Teach me?” 

When you nod, his face morphs into a pensive look. After a few moments, he brightens back up.

“How about the seasons?” he suggests. “We can start with those.”

You begin with spring. Your hands move as if they’re opening up to new life, the gesture mimicking the blossoming of flowers. Joshua watches intently, his eyes following your movements carefully, before mimicking the motion a few times. 

Next, you move on to summer. You form a fist with your palms down at your forehead, before taking your index finger and drawing it across your brow a few times, almost as if you’re wiping away a drip of sweat. 

For autumn, you use your hands to mimic falling leaves from a tree off your non-dominant elbow, making a gentle fluttering motion. 

Finally, you teach him winter. You simply make a shivering motion, as if you’re cold, and Joshua chuckles as he imitates the sign. You watch in awe as he successfully goes through the signs a few times without a hitch. Giving him a few rounds of claps, he gives a shy, pleased smile, clearly proud of his progress.

“I hope we…” Joshua starts, some unsureness flowing through his hands, but he signs the seasons so easily (unbeknownst to you, he already knew them). “...we get to see spring, summer, autumn, and winter together.” 

Perhaps he could feel the way your heart swells in his hands, because he’s cradling it so preciously as he speaks, and he looks at you with such hopeful eyes.

You want to spend every single season with him. 

Later that night, you find yourself standing in front of the sink in Joshua’s kitchen, washing the dishes because you lost him to a game of rock-paper-scissors. 

As you’re rinsing off the final dish, a light tap lands on your shoulder, making you wince for a second before quickly relaxing. A pair of arms then sneaks around your waist, pulling you close and causing you to nearly lose your grip on the plate. 

Joshua gently rests his chin on your shoulder from behind. His breath hits your neck as he wraps his arms around you. He stays like this for a few moments, simply savouring the closeness of your presence against him. Then, with a mischievous smile that you don't see, he brings a finger up and slowly begins to trace your back lightly with the tip, almost like a whisper against your skin.

I…

Curious and slightly ticklish, you crane your neck slightly to look back at him over your shoulder, scrunching your face up as you try to focus on deciphering what he’s trying to write.

… l… o… v… e…

Joshua pauses momentarily, sneaking a glance at the way you’re standing so still in his hold, before tracing the final letters.

…y… o… u.

Eyes widening, you shift around in order to face him, and Joshua rests his arms on either side of you, hands gripping onto the counter behind and practically enclosing you in. 

He leans in, and the world seems to narrow altogether. His half-lidded eyes flicker between your eyes and lips, as if asking for permission, and you could only anticipate what’s coming next as you squeeze your eyes shut.

Chuckling softly, Joshua inches even closer to you, and you feel his nose lightly brush against yours. But instead of pressing his lips against yours, he first kisses your forehead softly, making you shoot your eyes open in a bit of a confused daze. 

But before you can fully process everything, he’s leaning in once again, and this time, his lips gently meet against the tip of your nose. You crinkle it back as a pout runs across your mouth, and Joshua’s grin widens even more. 

“What’s with the face?” he teases, feigning a hurt look. “Is it because I haven’t kissed you properly yet?” 

You answer with him a shy, petty tug at the fabric of his shirt. 

“Give me a smile then,” Joshua insists impishly. “Please?”

Just from that alone, a shy curve sprouts at your lips, and Joshua just watches with a satisfied look. 

“Hmm,” he hums skeptically, but is leaning in closer anyway. “I’ll take it.” 

Then he finally kisses you, mouth moving with an ardent sweetness against yours that renders you breathless. He playfully chases after you as you manage to escape out of his grasp. But he’s quick to catch up to you anyway, the sounds of your giggles mingling with the soft crackling of the record player as you both collapse on top of the couch. 

You tentatively trace I love you on his back when you’re both settled on the couch together, legs intertwined and your head perched at the crook of his neck. He’s asleep, you consider𑁋you can tell by the way you feel his chest rising and falling against yours. 

Yet after you write those words, a shaky, relieved exhale leaves him that you don’t hear.

“All you have to do,” Jihoon starts, offering a seemingly heavyweight set of headphones in his other hand towards Joshua. “is press play right here, and tell me what you think.”

Joshua takes hold of the headphones as Jihoon scoots a bit of his chair away to give him some room. He places it carefully over his ears, feeling the soft cushions envelop them. Then after taking a deep breath, he reaches over to press the play button on the keyboard, and Joshua can feel his heart racing in anticipation. 

Upon playing, he’s greeted with the familiar sounds of his guitar filling his ears, and then his voice comes in. Hearing himself in such a professionally produced track and not just as raw vocals bouncing off the walls of his room is absolutely unbelievable. He could also pinpoint the subtle layers Jihoon has added to the track𑁋a faint drumbeat and soft vocal harmonies. 

It was a song that was once simple lyrics in a dusty journal and a few rough guitar chords. It wasn’t meant to be anything grand; it was originally a personal project made on a whim in the middle of the night just to channel his feelings and his dreams into something palpable. 

But now, hearing it with such rich yet attenuated production for the first time, it feels as if the song has taken on a life of its own. 

“Holy𑁋wow,” Joshua says the moment he takes off the headphones, staring at Jihoon with disbelief. “Are you sure this is my song?” 

Jihoon chuckles at that. “Positive, man.”

Joshua’s eyes remain wide. He holds the headphones in his hands, turning them over and inspecting them closely as if trying to decipher the magic hidden within. 

“I never imagined it could sound like this,” he admits meekly. “I mean, I’ve always dreamed about this, but... to actually hear it like this? It’s incredible.”

Jihoon nods encouragingly. “You had the foundation; I just built on it. I’m telling you, with the right push, it could really connect with people.”

Joshua leans back in his chair, still holding the headphones in his grasp like it's a sacred bar of gold, and lets out a deep breath. “I can’t believe this is happening.”

“The recording will be on this USB drive,” Jihoon shows off a tiny, ruby red drive in his hand. “I’ll work on polishing it up a bit more, but this is essentially it. You could also gain some attention from your busking gigs. What do you say?”

Well, it’s not like he can say no to that. 

“I’m in,” Joshua replies with a grin.

The minute that he steps out of the studio later that day, a breeze of cold air suddenly nips at his cheek. Joshua brings his head up to see the sky thick with clouds, and to his amazement, delicate snowflakes begin to fall, gently drifting down and settling on his hair and shoulders. It’s the first snowfall of the season.

There’s something almost magical about the way the snow falls, he thinks. As he continues to walk through the streets, there’s a sense of renewal that washes over him, a fresh start, just like the song he’s worked so hard on and the dreams he's held at the tips of his fingers. He takes a deep breath, letting the cool air fill his lungs, and pulls out his phone to text you. 

[05:39PM | joshua hong] Still have time to meet up later? 

Your reply comes in almost instantaneously. 

[05:41PM | y/n] just left the museum :) it’s snowing outside!!!

[05:42PM | joshua hong] Dress warmly ❤️ I’ll meet you at your place?

[05:42PM | y/n] I will. see you soon ❤️

Chuckling to himself, Joshua pulls the jacket tighter around his body and stuffs his hands inside his pockets, quickening his pace at the thought of seeing you.

When the season of spring rolls over, trees are budding with beautiful, bright green leaves and flowers are blooming in a vibrant array of colours. Spring has always been one of your favourite seasons, and this year is no different𑁋especially if you get to see it with the people close to you.

You’ve been coming back to attend your art class at the museum, and you’ve decided to pick up a small side role as a teacher’s aide to earn some extra money since more people have been enrolling into the art programs. So far, it’s been very rewarding and fulfilling, and meeting new people who share your same passions has been a joy. 

Plus, you could proudly say the spark for painting has been getting stronger and stronger each passing day. 

Wheein greets you with enthusiasm when you walk out of the classroom, explaining with annoyance about how one of the girls in her classroom was someone she heavily despised back in high school. Seungkwan shows up when you both step out of the museum, and you have to remind them that you can’t sacrifice your plans with Joshua to hang out with them at the arcade that just opened down the street. 

“They’re in their honeymoon phase,” Seungkwan rolls his eyes teasingly. 

“They’ve been in their honeymoon phase for, like, half the year now,” Wheein grumbles, though her irritation is more playful than serious. “It’s not like they’re going to stop anytime soon.”

“And Y/N is practically dating a celebrity at this point. Have you seen the way people are talking about his music online?” 

Your best friends are boasting about your relationship right in front of you, making you roll your eyes. But you can’t help the way your cheeks colour with a tad bit of embarrassment and… a hint of proudness too, because they’re right. 

Joshua has had a few more songs released under his name, and performing at the busking centre has become a regular part of his schedule, his days working at the café lessening as he’s been focusing more on his music. His performances have been slowly drawing more attention, both locally and online, and it’s clear that his passion is shining through. You’re incredibly proud of him𑁋you’ve always had been.

Your footsteps are as light as a feather by the time you reach the busking centre. There’s already a good size crowd gathered around, and you can see Joshua sitting in the middle, propped on a stool with his guitar. Seokmin is there too, sitting on a stool of his own with a microphone in front of him, and there’s one more person. Judging by the small details that Joshua alludes to𑁋with the man’s distinctive button nose and laid-back stature𑁋you could only assume it’s Jihoon sitting behind the keyboard with a calm and focused expression. 

As you, Seungkwan, and Wheein find a spot at the edge of the crowd, he seems to spot you almost immediately in the midst of singing a song, his eyes lighting up the moment they meet yours. He gives you a small smile, and you can’t help but feel a rush of warmth spread through your chest. Joshua looks completely at ease as he tunes his guitar, his fingers moving cleverly over the strings.

He looks really, really pretty. The sun seemed to be shining down on him in all the right ways, the sleeves of the white collared shirt that he was wearing pulled up to reveal his forearms, and a dainty pair of glasses sitting on the bridge of his nose. The subtle spring breeze rumples his hair just enough to make him look effortlessly handsome. You couldn't take your eyes off him.

The entire crowd is captivated, yet it's as if he's singing directly to you, and in a way, he is. The vibrations fly through the air and hit every inch of your skin and into your chest, each note reverberating in your heart. You watch the way his lips move, the way his eyes light up, and the way the crowd responds𑁋it all tells you just how special this moment is.

As the song comes to an end, the crowd erupts in applause once again, and you find yourself brightly clapping along with everyone else. He looks over at you, and for a moment, it feels like time stands still. Then he stands up with Seokmin and Jihoon following, the three of them taking a bow together, before he sets his guitar down and makes his way toward you. 

Seungkwan and Wheein give you knowing looks before stepping aside to give you two some space, leaving to approach Seokmin and Jihoon. 

“Did you like it?” he asks while signing to you. 

You purse your lips together, shooting a musing glance up at the sky, before signing, “You already know what I think of it.” 

“In fact, I do not,” Joshua responds playfully, stepping a bit closer to you. “That’s why I’m asking you, love.” 

You narrow your eyes at him, feigning mock suspicion, and he seems to already know what you’re trying to point out. 

“Of course I’m fishing for compliments,” he adds on with a cheeky grin, endearingly wrinkling his nose that his glasses slide down just a bit. “Your opinion matters the most to me. Winning your approval means that I’ve accomplished the world, you know.” 

You can't help but laugh faintly at his words, though his earnestness warms your heart. Tentatively, you reach out to adjust his glasses, pushing them back up the bridge of his nose. His gaze follows your movements as you pull away from him slightly, the corners of his lips twitching up even further.

“It was wonderful,” You sign back bashfully. A blush creeps up your cheeks as you realise how cheesy it sounds, but Joshua’s features only soften as he reads your hands and catches a glimpse of a twinkle in your eyes when you look at him. 

He reaches down and takes one of your hands into his. “That was all that I needed to know.” Then he glances at the time displayed on his phone and looks back at you. “The aquarium is still open, right?” 

Your eyes widen at that𑁋that’s right, you were too caught in the moment that you nearly forgot about your plans𑁋and you give an eager nod.

“Perfect,” Joshua chips eagerly, his hand squeezing yours encouragingly. “The painting you did the other week reminded me of the jellyfish exhibit.”

“This awfully feels like a break-up.”

Joshua furrows his brows at that while folding one of his shirts and placing it inside a box. “What are you even talking about?”

“You’re breaking up with me,” Jeonghan retaliates jokingly, fauxing a sulky pout. “and moving out. I thought we had something special going on here.”

“You were the one who wanted me to move out in the first place.”

Jeonghan sighs dramatically, slumping his body against the doorframe of Joshua's now half-empty room. “That was before I realised how lonely it would be without you here. And now you’re spreading your wings and flying off.”

As sarcastic as that sounds, the corners of Joshua’s lips turn up fondly. If it weren’t for Jeonghan taking him in as his roommate from the very beginning ever since moving away, he wouldn’t lie about feeling a little sentimental. 

After packing up the remains of his clothes, Joshua stands up from sitting on his ass on the floor for two hours straight, crossing his arms together and shooting Jeonghan a pointed look. “You know I’m only going to be living like… fifteen minutes away, right? And I’ll still be working at the café.”

“I’m officially putting you as full-time then.” Jeonghan’s lips quirk up in a smirk.

“Screw that,” Joshua huffs with a laugh. “I’ve already got enough on my plate.”

“Right, because you’re so famous,” Jeonghan remarks exaggeratingly. “Heard you signed a napkin for someone the other day.” 

Joshua snorts at that in response. Okay, he’s certainly not as famous as Jeonghan depicts him to be, but apparently famous enough for someone to approach him and ask for his autograph on a napkin. Apart from the gigs in the busking centre, he also has a few social media accounts set up where he can post song covers on occasion and drop updates about his music. 

All he has is his presence, a guitar, and a dream that’s slowly taking shape right before him. He knows it’s a long road ahead, but even with the small progress that’s been made so far, he’s hopeful, determined.

The new apartment is small but cozy. It’s not much, but it’s a place to call his own𑁋his own little corner of the world. He decides it’s not worth the energy right now to unpack everything and instead settles on top of the lone mattress that’s currently on the middle of the floor, feeling both exhausted and oddly content. 

He stretches his body on top of the soft surface and lets out a sigh of relief as he sinks into the mattress, gazing aimlessly at the barren ceiling above him. The remnants of packing are scattered about the place, with boxes sitting in corners and unopened bags lying around. His guitar sits on its stand right next to the window. There are still many things to figure out𑁋how to decorate the place, where to put everything, what this all means for his future. 

But for now, he allows himself this moment of stillness; this brief, quiet pause before turning the page to the next chapter.

After nearly nodding off, a few knocks at the door jolt him awake. He blinks in surprise, pushing himself up from the mattress. Stretching out his tired limbs, he makes his way to the door, opening it to find you standing on the other side. 

You stand there with a bag clutched at your side, suspended under the singular hallway light that highlights the fondness in your eyes. You shake the bag lightly.

“Food?” You sign to him.

Joshua swears his heart drops down to his knees just from that alone, his exhaustion melting away from your simple offer. Then his stomach rumbles, as if in agreement, reminding him that he hasn’t exactly had a proper meal the majority of the day from how busy he was with moving in. The nod he gives you makes you chuckle.

As you step inside his new place for the first time, you take a moment to gaze around at the barren walls and scattered boxes. Like any new, fresh canvas, the space holds so much potential and possibilities. If it’s home for Joshua, then it’s also… home for you too. 

The two of you sit down cross-legged on the mattress while unpacking the bag of its contents. The aroma of takeout food travels through the air. You spread out the food between you, and Joshua seems to light up upon seeing the familiar, comforting dishes.

Sharing a meal together feels a bit different now. You don’t exactly know why, but there’s a subtle shift in the air you haven’t noticed until this very moment. There’s a sense of beginning, of making this place feel like home, and it’s oddly intimate. It's a blank slate waiting to be filled with new memories. New memories that you can’t wait to make with him. 

Joshua feels a nudge at his knee while chewing on a sushi roll, seeing that you’re holding out your phone for him to read. 

Can I show you something? 

He swallows his bite of sushi and looks up at you with curiosity, taking a second to clear his mouth while giving a nod.

Shrugging off the nerves, you set your plate of food down to reach into the bag. You pull out a small canvas, and when you turn it over to show him, it shows a beautifully painted scene of a sunset casting over the horizon. The vibrant hues of yellow and orange blend seamlessly with soft blues and purples. Along with that, the silhouette of a couple sitting together𑁋with one leaning their head on the other’s shoulder𑁋under a tree completes the picture. 

Joshua reaches out to touch the canvas, letting a fingertip caress over its coarse surface.

“This is beautiful,” he tells you. “Did you make this for me?”

You nod, and he watches closely as you type on your phone.

I wanted to give you your first piece of decoration for your new place

Joshua’s eyes soften as he reads your message, the warmth in his chest spreading to his entire body.

“It’s perfect, honey,” he says. “I’ll be sure to hang it somewhere special.”

In your eyes, you can already imagine it hung on the empty wall beside the window, where the morning light will cast a gentle glow on it and bring the colours to life. In your eyes, you can imagine your easel sitting right below it, with Joshua’s guitar propped right beside it…

“I should have the stuff to hang it in one of the boxes. I’m not sure which one though.” Joshua’s eyes flicker between the unopened boxes standing intimidatingly in the corner of the room, letting out a small, airy laugh. “But I’ll find it soon, I promise.”

You give him a warm, reassuring smile, as if conveying that there wasn’t any rush in finding it right now. 

When you both finish eating and cleaning up, you find yourself sitting on the mattress, body turned so that you are staring out the window of Joshua’s apartment, reveling in the stillness of the summer night and the way moonlight filters on the wall. Your silhouette is quickly joined by another one as Joshua settles closely beside you, your shoulders brushing lightly. 

At the corner of your eye, a glowing phone screen catches your attention, on it displayed a message from Joshua. 

What are you thinking about? 

The question almost seems silly somehow, yet you ponder for a few moments, before taking the phone to type back: 

I made a big decision today

Joshua lifts up an intrigued brow, and he tilts his head inquisitively at you, the soft brown tones of his eyes glistening like honey. It makes you lose your train of thought briefly as your fingers drift clumsily across the screen.

I’m going to participate in the upcoming exhibition at the museum. I’ve been thinking of trying again for a while now

“You are?” Joshua’s eyes widen. “When is it going to be?” 

“During fall,” You sign in response.

Fall isn’t that far away. The reminder seems to gnaw uneasily at your nerves, and Joshua notices it right away. 

“Feeling nervous about it?” he asks. 

You nod slowly, the weight of your decision settling heavily in your chest.

“It’s okay to be nervous. I know it didn’t go well last time,” Joshua continues. “But, well𑁋you already know what I’m going to say, right?” 

Now, the nod you give is a bit more confident. You bring your hands up to sign, “I believe in you.” You wonder if it’s his favourite phrase, since he’s said it to you so many times before. It holds a special place in your quiet conversations. 

“Exactly.” He wiggles a playful finger in front of your face, the moonlight makes his eyes twinkle with reassurance. “I believe in you. I’ve seen the way you pour your heart into your art. No matter what, you’re going to shine, love. And you have to believe in yourself too, okay? That’s the most important step.”

Joshua reaches over to grab your hand into his, squeezing firmly, before bringing it up to his lips to place a kiss right at your knuckles. You melt at that𑁋probably into the mattress at this point𑁋and hang your head down bashfully. 

When the silence rolls over again, you lean your head on Joshua’s shoulder, your silhouettes intertwining together on the wall.

Maybe this is where you belong, after all. 

There’s a quiet comfort you find in the palette of fall: the colours of leaves changing to warm oranges, reds, and yellows, the subtle crispness of the air that reminds you of the sweet taste of cinnamon rolls, and the way the sunlight feels a little softer on your skin.

You take a deep breath and let it out slowly, trying to calm the racing thoughts in your head. This is it. The moment you’ve been dreading and anticipating for weeks. You toy anxiously with the sleeves of your cardigan as you walk into the museum, the grand hall stretching out before your eyes. 

It’s all familiar just like last year𑁋the same setup, some familiar and new faces. More people are probably participating than last time since the art program has grown exponentially, and the thought fills you up with trepidation, if anything. Wheein is also here too engaging in the exhibition, Seungkwan was going to come later, and Joshua had already texted you that he's on his way after ending his performance at the busking centre early (though you insisted he didn’t have to… yet he did anyway) though you’re unsure when he’s going to arrive.

Along with the other artists in the room, you take a seat as you wait for the exhibition to finally begin. Then you feel a tap on your shoulder, and you perk up to see Wheein quickly engulfing you in a hug before pulling away.

“Jeez, there you are! You’re sitting like a wallflower and I couldn’t find you anywhere,” she rambles quickly that you don’t entirely catch what she’s saying, but you could tell she’s nervous too. She takes a visible breath, and brings her hands up. “How are you feeling? Heard there’s more competition this time.” 

You offer her a small, reassuring smile. “Nervous, but excited. I feel more prepared.”

Wheein nods, her eyes lighting up at that. “Good. You've got this.” She glances around the room before turning back to you. “See you on the other side?”

“Definitely,” You assure her, feeling a surge of confidence flow through you. 

Wheein squeezes your hand with a firm look one last time before moving off to find her own spot. A short while later, the exhibition officially begins with a long speech by the museum director once more. There’s still no sign of Joshua anywhere, but you tell yourself that you got this. 

Ignoring your sweaty palms, you spot your artwork hanging on the wall. It feels like a small part of you is now on display. And for the first time, there’s a feeling of pride that wraps around you comfortably. You feel more prepared than last time; with the help of Wheein, you wrote down some written statements you could present to the critics and the visitors who come by if they ever ask about your piece. 

A few minutes later, an interpreter approaches you𑁋one who isn't late this time, thankfully𑁋and you greet her with a friendly nod. She offers a kind smile to you, and you feel a bit more at ease, knowing that you’ll be able to communicate effectively with any critics and curators. 

As people start to crowd around the extravagant hall, you find yourself observing their reactions from a distance. Some pause to study your piece closely while reading the written statements you prepared. Others seem to take in the scene with thoughtful silence and then move on to the next artist after you. However, before you know it, time seems to slip away fairly quickly, and you’re surrounded by a sea of curious faces willing to engage in discussions about your painting. 

It’s a bit overwhelming having to explain and answer to so many people at once where you can feel their eyes practically boring into you, but you’ve rehearsed this part so many times that you feel yourself becoming more comfortable, more natural in the way you’re confiding in your work. 

As much as art can be interpreted, reinterpreted, and misinterpreted, you know that in the end, beauty lies in the eyes of the beholder. Your work is supposed to continue conversations, not end them. And you hope that yours does just that.

After talking to a sweet-looking old couple, you take a moment to catch your breath. You can’t tell if the stars have possibly aligned for you or if it’s just the magic of the night that’s making everything feel so right.

Just as you're starting to relax a bit, a familiar, comforting sight at the corner of your eye captures your attention. And when you bring your head back up to welcome the next visitor, you find Joshua right in front of you, coming up with his arms behind his back and a playful look on his face. He’s dressed in a comfortable navy blue sweater and a pair of beige jeans, appearing effortlessly handsome and soft as always. 

“Hello,” he greets warmly before stopping in front of you, letting his eyes trail past you in order to roam over the large painting that sat behind. So this is what you’ve been keeping a surprise all this time. “Your painting is beautiful. Can you tell me more about it?” 

You blink in surprise at his sudden performance on being a visitor, biting back a smile creeping up your lips and the affectionate flutters bursting in your stomach. 

Gesturing to the painting, you start to explain as your interpreter steps in to translate to Joshua. You start with the basics of your piece: the inspiration, the styles and techniques you used, and what you hoped to convey, and Joshua listens attentively, though he seems to be more focused on you than anything else. For some reason, him being the only one standing here is making you more nervous than the group of people you talked to earlier. 

“I could see the passion you put into your piece,” Joshua says softly. “It’s admirable. It was the first thing that caught my eye when I walked in here and I could tell that there’s something truly special about it𑁋that there’s a lot of heart in it. So thank you for sharing this part of you to the world. You have a gift, honestly.”

You find every ounce of wanting to thank him shy away as a blush rises to your cheeks. Instead, you give a small nod, head hanging down as if the floor was the most interesting sight in the world, feeling overwhelmed by his words. If you look at him, you’d feel like you would melt into a puddle on the floor.

Joshua chuckles quietly at your reaction before giving you one last lingering look. You watch as his shoes walk out of your line of sight, his presence leaving behind a comforting feeling to settle in your chest, right by your heart. You feel like you can conquer the world right now. 

When you finally bring your head back up, you don't spot him anywhere. For a moment, you scan the large room, looking for the familiar navy blue sweater, but you assume he’s already moved on to another part of the exhibition. 

You let out a breath you hardly noticed you were holding until now. 

As the evening winds down and time is getting closer to the dreaded announcement of results, the atmosphere in the museum starts to shift from the excitement of the exhibition to a more anticipatory hush as everyone returns back to their seats. The tremble in your hands returns back once more as you peer around anxiously, hoping to see some sight of a familiar face𑁋of Joshua, of your best friends, of anything. 

Minutes later, Wheein and Seungkwan run up to you with wide, beaming grins. Joshua isn’t with them, though. Your shoulders deflate slightly.

“They’re about to announce the results!” Wheein exclaims, signing to you with more enthusiasm than you can ever have right now. “How do you feel?”

“I swear I saw so many people gathered at your painting earlier,” Seungkwan adds in. “That’s got to be a good sign, right?”

“Not all the time,” Wheein reassures him with a disappointed tone, but she keeps a light-hearted smile. “Usually it just means people were interested, but hey, it’s definitely a good sign! You should be proud of yourself, no matter what happens, Y/N, okay?”

You force a smile at that, trying to hide the nervousness that’s crawling up your spine. You're not sure if you're ready to hear the results, yet at the same time, there’s a pang of excitement that’s hard to not acknowledge too.

The museum director steps up to the podium once everyone scrambles to return to their seats. You shoot glances around the room, spotting familiar faces, some looking calm and composed, others nervously tapping their feet or fidgeting with their clothes. You can hardly catch up with the way your heart is racing like it's running on overdrive, but you attempt to readjust your focus to the director. 

“Now, I would like to formally express congratulations to all who have claimed a place in this year’s annual exhibition. We had an outstanding number of participants and submissions this year. It was a very challenging time for the judges…”

The director’s voice is steady, yet each word that you watch leave his mouth seems to stretch on as your nerves make the second feel like minutes then to hours. Your palms have become clammy, and you grip your hands into tight fists, your nails digging into the skin of your palm. 

“…the judges have taken into consideration to select the works that stood out in originality, technique, and emotional impact. And now, for the results…”

Your breath catches as the director begins to announce the winners slowly but surely, one by one, heartbeat thumping stronger with each one. The names come and go, each following with a few moments of applause erupting around the room that you echo along with as the artists hop onto the stage to retrieve their certification from the director. It’s like a momentary pause of time before the next. 

The moments that pass feel as if a small weight is being lifted from your shoulders, only to be replaced by a heavier, more pressing sense of anticipation, of dread, of doubt. Déjà vu starts to seep into your thoughts as you bite at your bottom lip and bring your eyes down from the stage, feeling your chest tightening with hopelessness. There’s no point. 

And it’s because you’ve become so attuned to your thoughts that you don’t notice the collective murmur of excitement that ripples through the crowd right before you. You pick up to clap your hands for the name was just called, only to be met with quite literally everyone’s faces on you. Nothing but confusion clouds your mind. 

Are they… clapping for you?

The realisation hits you hard, and for a few long seconds, you’re caught between disbelief and elation. Your body feels absolutely frozen in place; everyone’s mouth is moving too fast for you to fully process; the world around you feels like it’s spinning. The moment seems to stretch into an endless void, and you can barely believe what’s happening. The crowd’s faces blur into a sea of smiles and congratulations… for you. 

Your name𑁋your artwork𑁋had been recognised.

You nearly tumble on the way to the front at the way your legs feel numb underneath you, each step feeling as if you’re floating on air. Perhaps this is really just one, long, tortuous dream, but the way your trembling hands clutch the certificate as you receive it from the director feels startlingly real. 

The director offers you a handshake and an acknowledging smile, but you hardly register it all in your mind. In those short moments, you take the opportunity to swiftly scan the room, catching sight of Wheein and Seungkwan clapping happily for you, and Joshua standing right next to them. He’s clapping along too𑁋is that a bouquet of flowers in his hands?𑁋with a warm, proud smile painted across his features. You consider it more important than any of the applause around the room; more important than the award itself, ironically.

You make your way back to your seat, the certificate feeling both heavy and light in your hands. Every congratulatory smile that the other artists send to you is like a burst of warmth against the cool autumn night.

As the last of the names are called, you find yourself drifting among the crowd, eyes in search of your friends. But it isn’t long for your body to be engulfed by the arms of Wheein and Seungkwan who have managed to squeeze their way through the crowd to find you, their faces glowing with uncontainable excitement.

“Y/N, you did it!” Wheein exclaims, her eyes glistening with joy as she shakes you by the shoulders. “I knew you could! I’m so proud of you!”

“I told you it was a good sign!” Seungkwan remarks to Wheein before facing you with a wide grin. “Shit, I’m about to cry again𑁋I’m so happy for you, Y/N!”

As their words sink in, an overwhelming bubble of triumph grows within you. A shaky laugh leaves you as they continue to shower you with their happiness, heat beginning to prick at the corners of your eyes from how much your heart feels so fully right now. 

Wheein drags Seungkwan by the wrist to greet the other artists, and you’re left standing at the very side of the museum, gazing wandering around through all the faces within your vicinity. You don’t see any sign of Joshua anywhere. Did he get lost? 

With that, you pull your phone out to text him, before your eyes widen in surprise at the way you missed a message from him sent five minutes ago. You were a bit too distracted by everything else that you didn’t feel the notification of his text.

[09:03PM | joshua hong] I’ll meet you outside ❤️

Without any hesitation, you slip your phone back into your pocket and make your way toward the exit of the museum, leaving behind the lively inside and into the peaceful night. The cool autumn air greets you with a refreshing embrace as you step outside, the sky painted with the soft hues of dusk.

Joshua isn’t standing that much farther away from you, spotting him waiting idly by the small gate at the entrance of the museum, a singular spotlight shining down on him from above. As you start to approach him, he seems to notice and turns his body toward you, a smile spreading across his lips. 

“What are you doing out here?” You sign to him curiously.

Joshua’s lips form a thin line in thought, signing back expressively while answering, “Too noisy in there, and I thought you deserved some fresh air. Plus, I wanted to give you something.”

After that, he pulls out the bouquet of flowers from behind his back and extends it toward you with a sheepish look.

“I know you probably already saw them, but I couldn’t hide it any longer,” he tells you. “Congratulations, my love.”

The pleasant fragrance of the flowers float to your nostrils as you take them into your grasp. The flowers themselves are a perfect assortment of colours you find dear to your heart, like each one was personally handpicked for you. The thought and everything else has heat prickling at the corners of your eyes. It’s all too much and just enough at the same time.

Joshua grabs ahold of your hand, pulling you close to him so that one of your arms is wrapped around his waist. He places a small kiss on the top of your head before leaning down to look into your eyes.

“Look at you,” he coos softly, perhaps a pinch of tease behind his words you detect. “You’re glowing.” 

You nearly laugh at that, coming out as a shaky and probably ugly snort instead that makes you bury your face into Joshua’s shoulder. Maybe you are glowing, maybe it’s just the spotlight hanging over, or maybe you’re just too happy to even care. You feel his chest lifting and receding from the laughs of his own as you cling to him. For a moment, everything else fades away𑁋the museum, the crowd, the nerves.

When you pull away slightly, he’s still looking at you, taking the chance to let a finger slowly caress the skin of your cheek. There’s stars in his eyes that you could pinpoint, ones that seem to shine brighter than even the largest of constellations. You feel like you could get lost in them, in him, and for a moment, you do. Your breath hitches in your throat. 

A gentle breeze carries the scent of fallen leaves, the soft rustling of leaves surrounding the two of you. It's as if the world has paused, giving you a moment to simply be with each other.

You bring the arm that was around his waist back to your side. He still holds you by the hips as you bring a hand up to sign.

“I know that I can’t hear,” You start to sign slowly, his gaze flickering down to your hands curiously. “but I can feel your voice when you hold me.”

Joshua nods thoughtfully. He seems to contemplate something for a moment, before bringing his hands from your hips and up to sign. 

“How does it make you feel?” 

You purse your lips in thought, trying to find the right signs to express what you're feeling. It's hard to put into words, or even signs, the way you feel when you're with him.

“Safe… loved…” You draw your fingers graciously through the air, and Joshua’s eyes soften with affection as he watches. “...heard… understood…”

The words fly off your hands and swirl around like a planet orbiting its sun. As you peer into Joshua's eyes, you know he understands. He's always understood.

“I want…” You begin hesitantly, somewhat feeling silly at what you’re about to ask from him. “...to feel you say something to me.” 

Joshua’s eyes widen slightly, and he tilts his head intriguingly, waiting patiently for you to continue. 

You start with taking the fingertip of your hand touching your chin, before drawing it away in the form of a small arc. Next, you point to yourself, then you point towards him. Taking both arms, you cross your arms over your chest as if you were hugging yourself. And then finally, you point back at yourself. 

“Tell me that you love me.” 

A faint hint of a smirk crosses his features, before it softens into a simple look, a simple smile. Joshua just steps back forward and takes you back into his embrace, letting you press yourself against his chest. He wraps his arms around you, holding you close enough that you could possibly even feel his heartbeat. You love feeling that as well.

You swear that if there was one place you could stay in forever, it would be in his arms. And right now, it was only the beginning of something beautiful.

“I love you,” he tells you. For the first time, you don't read his lips to know he said it, yet you feel those three words resonate through your entire being and down to the very core of your heart, just where they belong.

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@lullips

[pocarinapyon]

Happy Father's Day to the fathers, to those you consider fathers, and to those who will become fathers! 🤩

Speaking of fathers... 👑/🖥️ Just another random thought about the SAGAU / Reverse Isekai idea I had...

🌶️🌶️ What if the boys found out that they can stay in your world forever if they got you pregnant? Or in the case of the female characters, if they get pregnant? Like... They found some kind of scripture / ancient text / legend / whatever that says something about being able to retain themselves once they sire / bear your children (How many are children we talking about? IDK). Just imagine how eager the boys would be to get you pregnant!! 🤤🥵

So, again with my favourites!!

Starring : Albedo, Alhaitham, Childe, Kaveh (Separate)

Tags / Warnings : 🌶️🌶️ [Chilis] Actual seggs; The boys being obsessed with you; Petnames (if it bothers you); Contains stray cuss words; Usage of potions; A little dramatic in Kaveh's part; 👑/🖥️ [SAGAU/Reverse Isekai] Based on the SAGAU / Reverse Isekai concept linked below but spicy; Concept used if original / glitch varies

Links : Pinned Post, SAGAU/Reverse Isekai original concept, SAGAU/Reverse Isekai glitch concept, Anon's awesome concept about sleepmasks, 🌶️🌶️ JJ version A1(Albedo / Childe / Venti / Zhongli) Separate, 🌶️🌶️ JJ version Venti solo, 🌶️🌶️ JJ version A2 (Albedo / Childe / Venti / Zhongli) GangB., 🌶️🌶️ JJ version B1(Bennett / Diluc / Kaeya / Kazuha) Separate

Target audience is female (bodied) reader.

To whoever is reading, please enjoy.

---------------

Now just because Albedo was a homunculus doesn't mean he'd stop trying. In fact, he was even more inspired; even more dedicated to create new life inside your womb so he could be with you forever. As an artificial being, would he be able to get you pregnant? He wasn't sure yet but if he wasn't able to, he would find ways or die trying.

When he materialized in your room, he immediately drugged you into a deeper sleep. That way, he could experiment on you all night long without worry of waking you up and dematerializing back to Teyvat. And since he already fed you a slumber potion, why not go far as to give you something for your fertility and libido?

.

"Ahh...! My love, you're taking me so well. That's impressive," Albedo huffed as he pistoned his cock in and out of your abused pussy. "Ah...! Princess...!"

Albedo snapped his hips onto you and released another load of cum deep inside your already full womb. In turn, your slumbering body instinctively milked Albedo's manhood for more.

"Heh... Hehe... You really want it, don't you, my princess? I just love how you tighten around me and squeeze my cock," the alchemist sighed in contentment as he recovered from another orgasm.

"Ah, shit...! More... More! Fuck, you're so tight!" uncharacteristic cuss escaped from the Chalk Prince's lips. It felt so good to be buried deep inside you that the usually calm and poised Chief Alchemist couldn't help it.

White essence had long stained your sheets, an indication that Albedo had been assaulting you for a long time. But he wasn't done, no. He wanted to keep you as his beloved princess and if getting you pregnant was needed for this dream of his to come true, then he would gladly fuck you until your womb is full.

Alhaitham was probably the one who discovered the scriptures. Unfortunately, he was with a certain someone when he found out about the legend. It was a shame he couldn't stop the word from spreading. No worries. You usually keep Alhaitham active in your party so there was an insignificant chance his competitors could materialize in your world and get you pregnant.

Now that he was transported to your world, he must commence his plan. He stoically stared at your computer / Playstation (let's assume that's what you use to play) and carelessly unplugged the device, shutting it down abnormally. This made him glitch and stay in your world but only temporarily. Of course, he'd prefer to be in this state forever which was why he must proceed to the next step of his plan.

.

"Alhaitham, please stop...!!" your tongue was already lolled out while you plead for the virile scribe to be gentler with your wanton pussy.

"Oh? Don't act all shy and reserved now. You're clearly enjoying this because if you didn't-"

Alhaitham paused his movements and chuckled from seeing how your head quickly snapped in his direction. Your glossy eyes begged him to fuck you more and it proved just how much you wanted his cock.

"-well, you wouldn't be tightening around me and creaming all over me, right?"

"H - Haitham, you're being unfair...!" you cried from being on edge. "J - just make me cum already!!"

Alhaitham snickered before pressing onto your erected clit, making you squirm beneath his hard toned body. He did not move and only kept himself buried deep inside you while tinkering your sensitive little nub. The stimulation was enough to make you orgasm and convulse from the pleasure, milking Alhaitham and begging to be filled with his essence.

The Haravatat scholar knew how to push your buttons. Every time you masturbated to him, he observed you and etched in his mind how you wanted to be pleasured.

He also knew this won't stop you from playing Genshin Impact and using him as the main character. In fact, he assumed you would be more inclined to use him. You were a slut for him and giving you a taste of his sex would make you excited for more.

Now, all he had to do was to ensure you carry his child so he could make you his forever.

An interesting hearsay quickly spread across Teyvat. Word was if the active character that materialized in your world got you pregnant, they would be able to live with you in your world forever. Everyone became envious of the people who had the privilege of realizing this legend and one of these blessed people was the Eleventh Fatui Harbinger, Childe.

Childe couldn't help but feel giddily restless. Just the thought of seeing you pregnant and having a family with you made his cock stiffen in excitement. He wanted to knock you up so bad that he planned meticulously just to make sure you became his lovely wife.

.

"Aw, sweetheart. Don't be like that," Childe cooed at you. His hot breath fanned your ear as he whispered words that cajoled you deeper into depravity, "I know you want me to cum inside you. You feel that, right? How my cock twitches inside you and your pussy begs me to paint it white?"

"G - geez...! Fine! Today is a safe day anyway so I guess it's alright," you concurred. You then began to bounce on his cock once more, "Hehe~ Ah~! Make sure to cum tons, okay~?"

"Of course. Anything for you, my wifey," Childe responded in a husky voice.

"Hehe~ I can't believe you're actually letting me ride you on top today!" you chortled while grinding your hips to feel the Harbinger's hard erected manhood against your snug gummy walls. "Uwaaah~ this feels soooo good!"

With your sleepmask on, you failed to see the dark glint in Childe's eyes. He wanted to focus on your pleasure but it was hard to restrain himself from pinning you down and fucking your brains out. Like a bunny, you looked so adorable hopping up and down his cock that he wanted to make a mess out of you. But if it was true that you would have a higher chance of getting pregnant this way, then he would stop himself.

Patience is key as they say. He needed to tame his dark desires for now so he can reap the rewards later - and that reward was being with you forever.

The sappy architect's eyes glistened in delight. You mean there was a way he could stay with you forever? He could do something so that he wouldn't have to endure and make do with holding you in your sleep? If he got you pregnant, you would be his lover forever? What an interesting information indeed!

Kaveh stood in front of your bed, miserably debating whether to do this or not. His conscience ate at him. He loved you - he was obsessed with you - he wanted to be with you forever, but it was wrong to take advantage of you in your sleep. He sighed in agony and flopped beside you. And as if the higher beings heard his plea, your phone suddenly lit up and displayed a low battery alert before disappearing to reveal something interesting.

---------------

Kaveh smut. Tags: impregnation, cervix kissing, hard-core sex.

He wasn't sure if he could do hard-core but that was all the sign he needed to go with his original plan.

.

"N - nnh... You're so tight...," Kaveh whispered. He slowly dragged his cock deeper and penetrated you. "Mmh... Do you like that?"

Kaveh planted a kiss on your lips. He was being as gentle as he could in fear of waking you up.

"You're so gorgeous; nothing could compare to you. You are the embodiment of all that is beautiful," Kaveh praised you in a soft voice.

He continued to massage your snug walls with his veiny cock. A satisfied sigh escaped his chest when your warmth spasmed and clenched onto his manhood.

"Hehe. It seems you like this as much as I do," Kaveh mentioned with a proud smile.

He made love to you in the most romantic way. You were treated like a queen - a goddess who deserved all the love the world had to offer. Your pleasure was his priority, and he made sure to give every inch of you love and attention.

It was his first time doing this (with) to you, and he would be glad if he could have the chance to do more. All he hoped was for you to accept him should he manage to get you pregnant and stay in your world. After all, you were deprived of the privilege to decide if you wanted him or not.

Three among those four are triple crowned. Can you guess who's not triple crowned?

To whoever read this, thank you for your time. Here, have a pet bun-bun 🐇.

Again, happy father's day!!

Links : Pinned Post, SAGAU/Reverse Isekai original concept, SAGAU/Reverse Isekai glitch concept, Anon's awesome concept about sleepmasks, 🌶️🌶️ JJ version A1(Albedo / Childe / Venti / Zhongli) Separate, 🌶️🌶️ JJ version Venti solo, 🌶️🌶️ JJ version A2 (Albedo / Childe / Venti / Zhongli) GangB., 🌶️🌶️ JJ version B1(Bennett / Diluc / Kaeya / Kazuha) Separate

[floydstruly]

how you mince my heart.

synopsis : two house wardens vie for your affection send their people after you when you escape their grasp, first one that captures you wins.

cw. not proof read, mild depictions of violence, non explicit obsession (?), yandere themes (???) idk how to tag its my first time posting on tumblr (did this for funsies, no idea how anything works)

pairing: gn! reader x vil schoenheit, slightly azul (floyd, jade and rook too if you really squint)

He takes a deep, sharp breath in–his chest rising and falling quietly as he drums his fingers along the edge of the wooden chess board. He waits, and waits, and waits for Vil to make a move. But he doesn’t.

Instead, Vil stares at him through his uncharacteristically uneven bangs, his hairs out of place and his make up a mess, yet still, he manages to be beautiful. The soft dark circles under his eyes reminisce a night of challenged sleep.

Vil sighs, turning his head away from his opponent and mindlessly pushes a rook forward three spaces onto a board–consuming his knight. It takes Azul by surprise to see him so distracted–well, of course he was, he hasn’t been the same since you left him. Azul lets out a snide, mocking chuckle and sits back in his seat, it creaks from the shift of weight.

“You seem stressed.” He remarks offhandedly as he takes his knight off the board, he’s down to one. He glances around the room, it’s oddly quiet in the Monstro Lounge without Floyd and Jade, he only hopes that they are capable of carrying out his wishes.

Vil shakes his head. The door to the VIP room swings open with a harsh thud, Floyd saunters into the room and drapes himself over Azul’s shoulders. He whispers something in his ear that causes Azul to tense up, odd. Azul’s opposition raises an eyebrow and uncrosses his legs–as if trying to listen into their not-so private conversation.

“Ahh~ betta, what’re you doing here?” Floyd drawls out lazily and smiles, how incredibly eerie–Vil pinches the bridge of his nose in annoyance, glancing back between the knight he eliminated earlier and back at the merman.

“Playing a game.” He answers simply, urging Azul to make his next move with the snap of his wrist, “I would hope I win.” He adds, there's a hint of growing pride in his voice.

He will not lose.

It’s cold.

The sun is setting and you are tired beyond belief, your lungs feel as if they are being burned, your clothes were ragged and torn from all the times you had to push past brushes and trees. Along with that, you were bleeding–lower and lower, your blood trickled down your body in a way that made you feel almost queasy.

You haven’t the slightest clue where you are headed–but when you look back and see Night Raven College getting smaller and smaller, you know you should not stop. Not until you are far enough to escape the prying eyes and the caging arms of the student body entirely.

You feel a false sense of hope when you see the tippy-tops of Royal Sword Academy, like a radiant beacon–the sun, even, you are so, so close to freedom.

But you trip over a branch, crack! You land face first into the wet, muddy ground, the sticks press into your bruises and cuts–if Vil were here, he would certainly scold you for all the wounds that you’ve accumulated. But he isn’t, not if you can help it at least.

You hear a rustling and immediately, your heart sinks. Surely, no one would have followed you up here, would they? No, no, at least–that’s what you think until, from the very corner of your eyes, you see a feather rushing past you in the trees. It bobs up and down, the colour is all too familiar to you.

You scramble to get up in a panicked manner. Behind you, another one–another student, a quick glance back and you could tell from the mismatched eyes that fell slightly behind the hunter hiding among the trees.

“Stop following me!” You were almost positive they heard you, but there was no response. You huff and squeeze your eyes shut, blindly running forward as fast your worn out shoes could take you–which was not very far.

An arrow broke through the tense air, it was careful, calculated–Rook never missed, that was for sure. The tip of the arrow caught the fabric of your torn uniform, the blade too close to your neck for comfort, you fell over; exhausted, defeated.

With one final effort, you mustered all the strength you could to pull the arrow out–but then another barrage came, all precisely landing dangerously close to–but never directly into your flesh. You felt the air get knocked out of your lungs when another weight pressed down onto your body–Rook held your arm above your head with a triumphant smile. You breathed in once more, oh, how it hurt you to do so.

“Ah, I’ve bested you, Monsieur Mastermind!” Rook’s grin is joyous–too joyous for someone who hunted you down as if you were just a rabbit to him.

“So it seems.” The two share a laugh when Jade finally catches up to the pair of you. Unsettling, you shiver and let your body give in to your fatigue, “care for a rematch?”

Rook shakes his head, one by one plucking out the arrows he rained down upon you and hoisting you over his shoulder, you try to kick and scream–but is silenced when his hold on you gets tighter, the pressure almost feeling as if your bones would break as well.

“Oh, I’d be delighted–perhaps to a different prey to chase. This one, Roi du Poison, will not allow me to let go of.”

“A shame.” Jade’s voice trails off, their faces start to blur together, you’re too tired to listen anymore.

He glances over at the previously swung open door and as if on cue, Jade walks through it, the soles of his shoes tapping on the neat floor of the Monstro Lounge with a hollow click, a solemn expression plastered on his face. He takes a bow, hand to his chest.

Vil’s gaze wanders to his phone, it glows dimly at a text notification from Rook, a photo of you passed out over his shoulder, walking back to Night Raven College. Vil smooths out his hair and clothes.

“Checkmate.”

[babydollmarauders]

MEDIA MANAGEMENT — NJ DEVILS (PART TWO)

one — two

y/ndevils00

liked by jackhughes, dawson1417, and 14,971 others

y/ndevils00 hi and welcome back to my channel! this evening we’re going to be discussing the njdevils loss against the minnesotawild so buckle in because this was a very (un)eventful night!

there was one (1) goal made tonight by our pretty boys in red, however Timo told me my skirt was ugly yesterday, so he’s been kicked off of this post! will he redeem himself by the time they play on friday? that depends on if he listens to my demands!

onto the boys who actually made it on the post: jackson tried his hardest but despite that, he did not make a goal 💔 he did however look miserable (see slide 1), spend an insane amount of time watching baby sensory videos on the ipad (see slide 6), get knocked down (see slide 8), and then finally look cool for once in his life (see slide 9)!

swiss rap god got an assist on the only goal of the night, got in a scrum (see slide 7), and looked absolutely traumatized by something on the bench (see slide 2)! i’m not sure what he’s seen in his life but i’d like for him to keep it to himself :)

the crowned king of sweden, jesper bratt, also made an assist on tonight’s goal AND looked adorable and smiled after his own failed goal <3

maraschino cherry did absolutely nothing of note tonight but that’s better than getting a penalty (*cough* tuna *cough*)! so, i took a pic of him smoldering! you look great, zoolander!

and finally, mercy me was actually a sweet little angel tonight who can do absolutely no wrong and who definitely 100% did not pay me at all ever to say any of this!

i hope you all enjoyed tonight’s game because i know i didn’t!

tagged jackhughes, nicohischier, jesperbratt, john.marino97, dawson1417 and njdevils

jackhughes why do you do this to me?

y/ndevils00 i have no idea what you’re talking about

jackhughes also what the hell are baby sensory videos?

y/ndevils00 don’t act like you don’t know, jackson

jackhughes not my name

sharangovich17 they’re videos of bright colored dancing fruits and vegetables over a black screen

jackhughes @/sharangovich17 why do you know this?

y/ndevils00 he has a baby, jackson. unlike some other people on this team 👀

jackhughes still not my name and you still shouldn’t be a mother yet

y/ndevils00 YOU SAID “YET”!

john.marino97 dear god, hughesy what have you done?

john.marino97 not only are you still calling me a cherry, but i’m zoolander now too?

y/ndevils00 this is correct

y/ndevils00 i also complimented you, what do you have to say for yourself?

john.marino97 i don’t know if this warrants a thank you

y/ndevils00 well you just said it, so i’m taking it. you’re welcome! 🤭

john.marino97 idk how he puts up with you

y/ndevils00 if you ever find out, let me know!

user54 omg 4/9 pictures being of jack, their comments about kids, marino hinting at her dating someone?! it’s so obviously jack!

user26 idk, the way she posts about him makes it seem like they’re just good friends

nicohischier i’m honestly not sure what i’m supposed to say to this

nicohischier thank you? i think?

y/ndevils00 you’re so welcome swiss cheese 🤠

nicohischier i take it back

nicohischier we’re no longer friends

y/ndevils00 it’s too late, you signed a blood oath to be my friend forever, remember?

nicohischier ahh is that what i signed when you joined the team? i thought it was the standard NDA

dawson1417 “give me 5 more bucks and i’ll make sure no one knows you paid me for a slide” WHAT IS THIS Y/N/N?!

y/ndevils00 hey! i SAID you didn’t pay me! you just exposed yourself merc-dog

dawson1417 sure, i’m the one who exposed me!

dawson1417 and did you just call me “mercy me”?

user38 her and jack are dating, for sure. barely trying to hide it at this point

jesperbratt i am not the crowned king of sweden, but i appreciate your sentiments y/n!

y/ndevils00 you are the goodest boy of all the boys

jackhughes do i mean nothing to you?

y/ndevils00 @/jackhughes shhh grownups are talking now

tmeier96 “y/n’s list of demands: bring me an iced coffee, tell me my skirt is pretty and you were lying, convince HIM to let me get a cat, tell nico that swiss cheese IS a cool nickname and that he’s wrong and stupid, get me a blanket because this stupid rink is cold and i hate it here.”

y/nonthegram you have to do them all by thursday. good luck and may the odds be ever in your favor!

jackhughes she’s not getting a cat

trevorzegras @/jackhughes did you let her watch hunger games again after the fire incident?

y/ndevils00 @/trevorzegras it was one little fire! i hardly think it warrants the banishment of all the movies forever!

trevorzegras @/y/ndevils00 you tried to make your own fire dress and nearly burned down the lake house

y/ndevils00 @/trevorzegras big talk coming from the guy who helped me

jackhughes @/trevorzegras you WHAT?

user78 DID JACK JUST CONFIRM THEY’RE DATING?!

user19 AND TREVOR?!

trevorzegras hey! i know that ipad kid!

jackhughes don’t encourage her z

[sookiesookie]

swim good₊˚.༄ shuri udaku pt.1

titled inspired by “swim good” by frank ocean

paring: shuri udaku x blk fem! reader

summary: (a cliche) in sitcom-like fashion, an unathletic shuri udaku attempts to join the swim team to impress a girl she likes.

part summary: shuri is smitten and her lovesick ass gets into trouble.

word count: 2.5k

content will include: third person story-telling + reader goes by all pronouns, nerd!shuri, pining!shuri, athlete stem!reader, reader is aware of shuri’s efforts and finds it adorable, the reader is a huge tease, reader’s a flirt but they’re rlly sweet too, reader is shorter than shuri but stronger, college au, swim sports au, peter parker and friends cameo as her lil nerd group (???), shuriri are besties and dormates, swim teacher!namor, t’challa is alive and he’s the wrestling team coach :’), wrestling team co-coach!m’baku, fencing teacher!okoye mentioned, literature teacher!nakia mentioned, shuri’s hair is the short coily undercut in this story, I refer shuri by like six diff nicknames for fun bc it’s funny and we having fun, by “purple-clad” shuri I mean purple flannel and not the tracksuit, y’know, bc she’s a nerd /hj, I call them teens bc they’re still eightTEEN and nighTEEN, a good chunk of the story is just the other characters dogging on shuri for her sitcom ahh decisions and lines lmao, lots of banter, sitcom-like corniness and humor, sexual jokes but not rlly any content, some tension tho, pretty much fluff, just a lil fun🤷🏾‍♂️

a/n: i didn’t know whether to make this a college au or high school au bc technically I’m bout to leave high school but I’m also not in college yet so idk what id get right or wrong sooooo I’mma play it safe and go freshmen in college???

tags: @bellaallebbella1 for the dt @pinkwright @inmyheadimobsessed @zayswriting @generallysapphic bc they’re the pioneers and my favs fr, and @vampzxi cuz it’s lowkey inspired the shuri high school headcannons even tho it’s not rlly even close but shoutout fr

alsooooo since just getting back into writing like this outside of school direction and im not used to writing a straight shot one shot, this gon be multiple parts IM SAWRIIIIIIIIII, it’s only 2 parts tho

AGAIN THIS IS MY FIRST FF IN A WHILE AND I DIDNT HAVE ANYONE PROOFREAD IM SAWRI IF THE PACING OR THE PLOT COMES OFF INCOHERENT😭😭

#1

[MONDAY AFTERNOON]

Her smooth silk brown skin glistens

under the sunlit illuminated windows

as the water trickles

down her broad shoulders

to her god-crafted muscles,

flexing with every step they take

ever

so

slightly

out the pool.

Their chest heaving,

a slightly tired

yet heavy gaze

as they skim around the room at their peers,

eyes landing on one particular figure

with a similar look in their eye.

Her stoic demeanor is slowly replaced

with a playful smirk as she eyes...

wait…

SHE’S LOOKING AT ME-

SHIT!

Shuri snaps out of her internal monologue, jumping from the huge glass that peered into the school’s aquatic center, and quickly bolts through the double doors that lead to the hallway. When she’s out of sight, she slumps over, catching her breath. “Wow, Ms. Nakia would have either granted me an A+ or sent me to the principal’s office with the type of words I was thinking,” Shuri chuckles to herself.

After a brief pause at her words, her face heats up as she quickly facepalms in shame.

“What the hell am I saying?”

Reluctant, she trudges down the hall in embarrassment, making her way to the place she considered her third home: the science building computer lab (her second home was chemistry lab 2b).

In there resides Peter Parker and Ned Leeds, sitting around a desktop clicking away at some first-person shooter game, with an unwavering MJ Watson sitting a couple of seats away from the boisterous boys, head in a book per the usual. All three teens lined up in typical geeky fashion. Shuri slumps her book bag over a computer table, the sudden noise breaking the immersion of the boys who then looked up from their game, spotting the presence of their purple-clad friend.

“Dude, what have you been doing all this time?” Ned scowls. “We didn’t have any clubs today and we’ve been waiting for you for the past twenty minutes to walk to that new milk tea cafe MJ’s been telling us about.”

Not lifting her head from her book, MJ snarkily remarks, “She’s probably been too busy ogling the crap out of that poor girl over at the aqua center.”

Shuri’s face heats up as she’s quick to defend herself. “Cut it out! Of course I wasn’t!”

MJ smirks, still not looking up from her book. “Sorry, lemme rephrase that better: she’s probably been too busy eye fucking the crap out of that poor girl over at the aqua center.” Blood rushes through Shuri’s cheeks as she sputters incompressible excuses from her mouth, MJ giggling at her discomposure from her book.

“You’re such a mess, Shuri! When are you gonna finally buckle down and rizz her up– or at least go up and talk to the girl instead of borderline stalking her almost every afternoon?” Peter playfully pokes the purple-clad.

Shuri sucks her teeth, swatting him away. “One: the word ‘rizz’ sounds extremely uncanny coming out of your mouth. Please refrain from using that word around me again.”

Collective snorts bounce off the embarrassed white teen whose shit-eating grin twists into a poker face.

“Two: I don’t eye Y/N almost every afternoon.” Shuri pshaws and waves everyone off.

“Oh, my bad!'' Peter dramatically gasps, slapping a hand over his chest. “It’s every morning, lunch break, assembly, dinner break, class transition, and EVERY afternoon.” Collective snickers break out as Shuri backhands Peter, not harshly, but hard enough to derive a strained “ack!” out of him.

“But seriously, Shuri, it’s about time you try and get this girl’s number.” MJ goes on, finally looking up from her book and putting it on the table spine up. “It’s no use for you to keep on hopelessly pining after this girl from afar and not putting in the effort to actually pursue her.” Shuri slumps into a chair and releases an exasperated sigh.

“I do, but what would a versatile and talented girl want with a one-trick pony nerd like me?” MJ visibly cringes at the purple-clad’s words. “Ewww man, this isn’t the 80s! We are NOT living in a Disney Channel sitcom. There’s a lot of people would go for somebody as smart and intelligent as you, you know that.”

“Yeah, maybe to do their homework for them,” Shuri retorts. MJ pauses. “Hmmm, now that claim, I won’t completely disagree with...” “MJ!” Ned dramatically gasps as he lightly slaps MJ on the shoulder.

“Don’t listen to her, Shuri. You are perfectly capable of winning Y/N over just the way you are.”

The purple-clad snickers. “Now THAT was something you could’ve sworn was straight out of a Disney Channel sitcom.”

About 15 minutes later, the eccentric group of teens close up the computer lab and continue down the hallways with milk tea on their minds… except for Shuri. She trails behind the bunch, head hung low, peeping at Y/N’s Instagram.

As her walking gets slower as she’s gaping at her phone, the coil-haired nerd brushes her shoulder against what she thinks is just a wall. She lifts her head to notice the shorter, dark, and gorgeous swimmer— the same one on her phone that she still had in open view.

“Oh! Whassup, Miss Shuri!” Y/N’s eyes light up as he greets the taller.

Shuri’s breath hitches at the lovely emphasis put on her name, blood running cold as she quickly checks her peripheral to make sure the gang wasn’t around to humiliate her more than she already was.

Meanwhile, the teens heard what was going on behind them, but chose to continue on their merry way, intentionally leaving the two alone in the middle of the hallway.

She looks back at the short athlete and returns the greeting with a bashful smile. “What brings you here, Y/N?” The nerd quickly asks in a desperate attempt to carry the conversation, forgetting that people don’t need a reason to just roam the halls, something she mentally facepalms herself for right after.

“Nothin’ much,” Y/N chuckles at Shuri’s nervous efforts. “I’m just coming out of my swim practice. Mr. Namor was runnin’ me dry today.”

The athlete pauses as if she’s recalling something, the corners of her mouth slowly curling into a knowing smirk.

“I saw you peeping me over at the center earlier,” she drawls, “figured you wanted to speak to me about somethin’?” The athlete’s tongue subtly swipes across her bottom lip, as she gazes up at Shuri with a particular look in her eye, irises occasionally shifting down to the open Instagram page still on her phone, waiting for an excuse.

It was enough for the poor nerd to melt into a puddle, knees buckle and collapse, and lay sprawled across the hallway floor right then and there, but luckily for her, she still possessed a pinch of dignity left within her. With fleeting composure, gripping her backpack strap with strain, Shuri gives a weak pshaw.

“Me? I was just passing by! I just really like watching the team…”

You…

“...practice.”

As Shuri desperately attempts to form more words that can potentially save her, her eyes flicker to a *very convenient* bulletin board behind the shorter athlete. There, plastered on the brown surface was a poster: “CALLING FOR NEW MEMBERS! Swim Team Tryouts This Thursday at 5 pm! Swim Your Way To Success!”

Oh, Bast…

“In fact, I’m thinking of trying out for the swim team myself,” the nerd straightens up and states proudly, hoping she masked the way she winced at her words.

Y/N, who was expecting a different answer, gapes at the helpless girl in slight shock. “Oh, for real? That’s crazy! I never pegged you as a swimmer, Shuri.”

The nerd’s mouth forms a goofy grin. “And why is that?” She dramatically slaps a hand on her chest. “Is it because I’m of the darker persuasion?”

This derives a hearty cackle out of the shorter athlete, Shuri’s stomach fluttering from the fact that she made the girl laugh.

“Negro, please,” Y/N catches his breath and straightens up. “It’s because… I mean…” The shorter athlete trails off, eyeing Shuri up and down, the nerd’s cheeks heating up in the act.

“You know what? Nevermind. I can’t blame you for wanting to try. Hell, I’ve been swimming since 4 years old, the feeling’s exhilarating.” Y/N sighs off into the distance, as Shuri internally gushes at the shorter athlete’s passion.

Suddenly she snaps out of her trance and backtracks on the words of the other girl.

“Can’t blame me for wanting to ‘try’? Are you still assuming I can’t swim?”

Y/N waves his hands in defense. “No! I’m just saying–”

“Well I’m GOING to try out, I’m GOING to swim like a pro, and I’m GOING to get on the team!”

After a brief pause at her sudden outburst of competitiveness, Shuri reels it back in with a small “...respectfully,” and a cheeky smile.

Amused at the nerd’s sudden wave of confidence, Y/N clasps their hands together in accord. “Sounds like a plan then! I guess I’ll be seeing you Thursday then.” The shorter athlete readjusts the duffle bag strap on her shoulder and starts to walk closer to Shuri, laying an encouraging, yet, knowing hand on the taller’s shoulder, and leans into her ear.

Shuri could have sworn she was imagining what was rasped next.

“Word of advice: work on that backstroke… I know I will.”

Y/N then pulls away with an innocent grin and brushes past the appalled nerd, continuing on their merry way, but to suddenly turn around to yell one last thing:

“And your phone’s still on!”

Frozen in place, the girl slowly peers down to her cellular (one she made the mistake of changing the display settings to go into sleep mode after 5 minutes) still on Y/N’s Instagram page.

Once the athlete was out of sight, Shuri’s knees buckled as she grips the nearest wall, releasing a sigh of relief, quickly washed over with a wave of anxiousness.

What have I got myself into?

#2

“Y’know a backstroke is a type of swim move, right?”

Riri chuckles at Shuri as she clicks away on her calculator, doing her homework on her bed. The young prodigy lifts her face from it being buried in her pillow and whines.

“But she said it so… sultry like… and her voice was so… raspy… it felt INTENTIONAL!”

“Or maybe your horny ass misconstrued her words and heard ‘backshots’ instead of ‘backstrokes’!” Riri giggled as Shuri proceeded to throw a pillow at the girl.

“Regardless, either word could be used as an innuendo, she did it on purpose,” Shuri retorts.

“Okay, okay, whatever. Sooo, what are you gonna do?”

Shuri flops back on her bed with a sigh. “I will try out for the swim team, like I said I would. I mean, she sounded so intrigued when I mentioned I was interested, and the passion in the way she speaks about it— I should at LEAST try.”

“Aww, I guess that’s fair,” Riri begins to coo. “If you knew how to swim.”

“Huh?”

“Shuri, I have never seen you TOUCH water unless it was for drinking or an experiment, let alone be EMERGED in water outside of taking showers and baths in it. We’ve had campus water activities and pool days before and each time you’ve said ‘I’m busy, I’m busy.’”

“Well I was, you know I have school work as my top priority.”

“We have them during school breaks, Shuri, you don’t work on a school break!”

Riri releases an exasperated sigh. “Shuri, can you swim or not?” The prodigy gives her friend a hesitant look. “I mean, I’m not the worst at it…”

“Shuri, just say you’re shit at swimming.”

“Fucking hate it.” Shuri blurts out. “Haven’t stepped foot into a pool since I was 6.”

“Damn it, Shuri!”

“You wanted me to be honest!”

Riri chuckles in disbelief, shaking her head. “That’s not even it, Shuri! Swim team try-outs are on Thursday, that’s in THREE DAYS! You barely know how to swim, what makes you think you’ll be ready within the next three days?”

“I’ll figure it out, okay?” Shuri stresses, trying to calm herself down. “I mean, you seem to know how to swim. Why don’t you teach me?”

“One: you dug this silly lil’ hole yourself,” Riri wags her finger at the prodigy, “I’m not helping you with shit. The most I’ll do is braid your hair back the night before so it can fit better in the swim cap you’ll have to put on. Two: I couldn’t teach you even if I wanted to because I wouldn’t have time, I’m stacked up on homework for the next few days.”

Shuri groans in her pillow, flopping back down on her bed once again. The young prodigy felt hopeless with no more ideas left… except for one last hope.

“No.”

“C’mon, brother! This is my love life on the line!”

T’Challa chuckles, crossing his arms. “You got yourself into this mess when you knew you couldn’t swim.” He raises is hands in defense. “You have a death wish, I am not helping you.”

“But that’s what Riri said!” Shuri whines.

“Well Riri is a good friend, keep her around. As for me, I have a gym to organize so I am going to continue what I was doing.” T’Challa does just that as he starts to pick up idle weights off the floor.

“I’ll pay you!”

“I have a job, and you’re a broke college student.”

“But with an internship!”

“An unpaid internship.”

“I’ll be your very best friend!”

“I’m your brother, and I already have plenty of friends.”

“Oh, like that old brute that works alongside you?”

“I heard that, you oversized midget!” A snarky coach M’baku scowls from the connected office.

“I’m 5’5!”

“And I’m 6’5, midget!”

Shuri rolls her eyes waves him off. “You work with that oversized man baby,” she sneers to T’Challa.

The older chuckles as he continues to tune out his sister’s persuasions while he tidies around the ring.

“Brother, please!” Shuri drops to her knees dramatically, rubbing her hands together in impatience. “I’m becoming desperate, I REALLY need your help!”

The younger continues to plead as the older man begins to cringe at the pathetic display, checking his peripheral to make sure she wasn’t causing a scene for unwarranted pedestrians that may walk past the gym.

“Okay okay, I will help you! Just stand up, PLEASE! You’re embarrassing me!” T’Challa quickly reassures the girl on the ground.

Shuri’s pleas quickly halt as she jumps to her feet, showering her brother with “thank you”s.

“Ahh, don’t thank me yet,” the older waves the girl off. “And I’m only going to be RE teaching you the basics. Any extra stunts you want to pull for your little girlfriend besides that will be on your accord.”

“Deal,” Shuri clasps her hands together.

“Now will you please leave me be? I have a gym to attend to.”

“Whatever,” Shuri remarks as she starts to head for the exit, “But just know I will be at the gym pool, bright eyed and bushy tailed tomorrow morning!”

The girl slaps the doorway wall and points at her brother, who both chuckles and cringes at her enthusiasm.

Once the bubbly teen was out of sight, M’baku wheels himself to the office doorway in his rolling chair.

“You know she’s going to drown herself.”

A reluctant T’Challa sighs. “Yep.”

To be continued headass…

[m0rang0z]

Oh! Forgot to post this excuse of abomination here (ink sans fan art)

My almost 18 year old ass was given a big ahh pen and a piece of paper, so i did this, idk if i should post the final result lol

It's so damn funny i know undertale since 2016 and yet i know nothing of what's going on, which means, theories and who r the creators of which AU, so as much as i want to give credits to however did ink sans, I'm afraid of getting to confused and tagging the wrong person... Again

[dcangel]

hi hi! i saw that u were asking for reqs and prompt 29 rlly had me thinking… imagine you’ve been there for 2 years and are the only girl, and you don’t socialize much, you do your part and keep to yourself so no one knows much abt you. but when thomas shows up, he continues to bug you with questions/bother you including why ur the only girl there. there’s a lot of tension and one night he wonders off in the woods he finds you and one thing leads to another and it happens..!

AHH okay this is sending me to hell bc my mind is going feral just thinking about it and I literally am so excited to write this one. And thank you so much for requesting one <333 (this is my first time writing smut so bear with me)

Idk how to tag these correctly bc I’ve never posted anything but if I’m wrong just correct me: p in v, slight fingering, praising, degrading, dirty talk, mentions of edging, mentions of getting caught, choking kink, slight size kink, slight/moderate pain kink, oral sex!f receiving, a few uses of y/n, nicknames, 2nd person pov. Majorly unedited and not proofread (grammarly told me there were 149 errors but it’s 2:24 in the morning so grammarly can kindly fuck off. hopefully this is bearable to read.)

8238 words (what thee actual fuck)

29– Thomas

“Don’t muffle yourself. Let them hear your whiny voice, baby. Everyone should know how good I’m fucking you.”

The last few days were… something else. Like clockwork every month, another greenie arrived, but to you that just meant another person bugging the shit out of you until they got over it. What were you supposed to tell them? That you just felt like coming up into the maze and trapping yourself here for two years just because you were bored? Every single greenie, without fail, always pestered you like a small gnat swirling around your ear each day; “why are you the only girl? Why are you here? Is it hard being the only girl?” And of course the alarmingly obviously questions that crossed every new shank’s mind, but only few braved to ask.

You mostly managed to steer clear of the lewd obscenities, letting the few friends you made take care of it for you since it got to be an irritable subject for you very quickly. But, unfortunately, there were some that wanted to ask the girl herself. Some that didn’t even know your name, yet still approached you with a supercilious guise thinking that it would somehow win you over. Each time it made you wonder what they put in these new greenies before sending them up; they just kept getting worse and worse.

Majority of the gladers knew your name, but then again how could they not? Some knew it but just decided to call you whatever you wanted; as if you being a girl made you less human and more of an object. Those were the boys that could only dream of touching a girl, never mind even being able to hookup with one.

You were surprised by the amount of people that actually treated you as equal, even though it was the bare fucking minimum. Sometimes you found it ironic how Chuck—the youngest glader here—didn’t even think twice about your humanity status when half the so-called “men” in this place treated you like scut. The boy having stated many times that “you’re a human too, just like the rest of us. We each play our part and at the end of the day; work is work. It doesn’t matter how old you are or if you’re a guy or a girl.” You think one of the reasons you were such good friends with the boy was because he could easily relate to your struggles; him being the youngest glader and always treated like a baby who couldn’t comprehend the simplest things, and you being the only girl who’s treated like shit because apparently women can’t possibly be able to do the same things as men. You were both deeply misunderstood, and that served as a foundation for one of your closest relationships.

Of course the leader, Alby, had always said the same; you were to be treated as equal. He’d even brought up the fact that it was dispiriting that the matter was even a question at all. Some days were worse than others, only granting you the energy to will yourself out of the small hut Gally and few others helped you build, at the last possible second and skipping breakfast as you trudged your way over to the gardens, taking your place by Newt. From there, maybe you’d have an occasional conversation about the dirt that constantly flung into your eyes, automatically irritating both your sight and your mood, or maybe about how brutally the blazing sun treated your reddening shoulders and face.

But on those days—the bad ones—you kept silent, doing what you were told when you were told, taking part in the roles that made the glade work. Maybe you’d join the rest of the glade for supper, sitting with the very few people you called ‘friends’ but at the end of the table, hoping to avoid conversation that inevitably reeled you in. More often than not, bad days usually warranted you to take the meal to your hut after a quick ‘thanks’ to Frypan, then making the isolated trip to the comforting confines of your own space.

You tried keeping to yourself, afraid to get too close with anyone that wasn’t Chuck or Newt, but of course your name was brought up quite often. It never made sense, though; you rarely interacted with anyone, even the people you exchanged words with on occasion, not much was known about you. You even tried to avoid being seen as often as possible in hopes that your absence would somehow make the gladers forget about your existence.

Yet every month when a new greenie was sent up, terrified and questioning their entire existence, it also started a new uproar around your name. So with Thomas, it was no different. Well, almost no different.

After he showed up, he wasn’t subtle with his intentions like most were—always asking anyone he could about anything that might make you more 3-dimensional in his eyes. So when he saw you talking to Chuck and ruffling the young boy’s hair, he used their already-forming bond to his advantage.

“Hey, Chuck, who was that?” He pretended to be oblivious as if he hadn’t been staring at you all day every day, the way your hair was always tied back in a single low braid, how the small strands that were too short slipped from the crossed-pattern and framed your face, how your sun-kissed nose scrunched whenever some minor inconvenience passed your way or the way your head tilted ever-so-slightly as a way to show your confusion.

He was well aware that this most certainly happened with every new arrival; the pestering questions, the intrusive thoughts, yet he was infatuated with wanting to know absolutely everything he could.

“Who? Her?” Chuck followed the older boy’s gaze, quickly losing interest once he saw where it led.

Thomas’s gaze, however, didn’t falter. He couldn’t decide what part of you to focus on. Maybe the way you effortlessly carried buckets and buckets of whatever the hell was needed for gardening, but it looked heavy enough to make him stare in awe. He was shameless. “Yes her. Who is she?”

“A person.” Chuck answered, being frustratingly vague.

Thomas finally pulled his brown eyes from you, landing them on the smaller boy beside him. “What’s her name?”

“Why does it matter?” The young boy was all too familiar with the questions of each newbie, most greenies coming to Chuck for the same thing each month that became almost a routine to give out as little information as possible to protect his friend.

Thomas sighed, mentally rolling his eyes. “Because I wanna’ know.” He answered bluntly.

“You wouldn’t care what that guy’s name is,” Chuck pointed to a builder named Dan. “So why do you care what her name is?”

The greenie squinted his eyes, jaw clenched in slight irritation, the veins on his neck becoming more prominent than before. “Because I just want to know?”

“Y/N, her name is Y/N. There.” Chuck’s bitter tone was definitely a eye-opener, the boy usually sweet and happy to make new friends.

“Thanks.” Thomas managed to get a small thumbs up in return as Chuck walked further away, obviously done with their conversation.

. . .

The next few days left Thomas’s curiosity at a higher peak, even worse than when he first got here—before he knew about the girl. Luckily Chuck had told you each time the greenie asked another question, and you couldn’t express how grateful you were for the young boy since he never answered them.

However, despite Chuck’s anguished attempts at telling Thomas to leave you alone, the greenie pursued his interests in getting to know you more, although it was nearly inevitable that this would happen.

On this particular day, though, he couldn’t seem to find you. Much to his dismay, you were in the Deadheads, sitting by the small brook that always seemed to flow despite the enclosed glade. It was night, the sun long gone although the heat never seemed to leave. You liked the Deadheads, specifically the brook. It was quiet, nothing but the sounds of water trickling over small rocks and folding in on itself, and maybe the occasional leaf falling to the forest floor. The peaceful sounds were a drastic difference to the clanking of shovels on rocks that seemed to peeve each gardener, or tools hammering wood that echoed across the entire open glade.

It was rare, but sometimes you’d accidentally fall asleep in the woods due to the calming nature, serving for an aching back and sore neck that shot pain thorough your whole body when you craned it the wrong way. It would’ve been one of those nights, except the sounds of leaves crunching and twigs snapping under someone’s foot brought you back from your half-asleep state. You sat up against the tree, your legs crossing as you looked around. The only people who knew you came out here were sure to be asleep by now, Chuck always falling asleep the second the second he laid down on his hammock, and Newt knowing you didn’t like to be bothered out here.

You thought back to when Ben had been stung and was chasing Thomas through the Deadheads, and you thought the same was about to happen to you. Grabbing a small stick by your side— that would probably snap if any pressure were applied— you stood up and looked around the dark forest. The plush foliage provided little to no light, which left your eyes desperately trying to adjust to the darkness as quickly as possible.

You held the stick out in front of you and slowly backed up, occasionally spinning around to check behind you, the stick swinging through the air like it was wielded by a maniac.

The lack of light confused your senses, and somehow you didn’t you didn’t hear the cracking and snapping of leave and twigs, or feet the heat behind you getting closer and closer until your back slammed into something that scared you so bad you almost yelped as you whipped around to threaten whoever it was with the flimsy stick that almost snapped when you turned. You were greeted with an unfamiliar face, one that wasn’t just another in the sixty something faces in the glade that you had yet to learn the name of. It was a new one.

“Shit— sorry.” He muttered quickly, large, outstretched hands already on your shoulders to steady you.

You back up slightly, hoping his grip would fall off, and it did. “What the hell are you doing here?”

The boy automatically took to fiddling with his fingers, a nervous habit you guessed. “I, uh… I was looking for you, actually. Chuck told me you might be out here.”

You squinted your eyes slightly, not believing him since Chuck knew better than to tell a random greenie where you’d most likely be during your free time. “Did he?”

The greenie struggled to come up with an excuse, his hand rubbing the back of his neck as he looked at the ground.

“Or did you just watch me come out here earlier with the plans of following me, hoping I’d still be here after you were done with your job?” You added with a raised brow, a clear annoyed tone evident in your voice.

“Wel— No that’s not— I mean… well, you’re probably used to the newbies bothering you—”

“Damn right I am. And I don’t expect you to be any different, so unless you have anything important to say, then I’m just gonna leave.” You got straight to the point, not caring to sugarcoat or be nice to him since you’d tried that before with other greenies, and it usually didn’t turn out well. You dropped your stick and started to turn away from him when you heard his footsteps following you again, his voice following soon after.

“Well, no, but I just wanted to talk to you. I don’t know you v—”

“So let’s keep it that way, yeah?” You said, sounding as if you were talking to a child.

He clenched and unclenched his fist, a small habit of his. “Could you just stop cutting me off?”

“Why should I?” You said, brown raised in annoyance as you crossed your arms, shifting your weight onto one leg.

“Because I fucking asked? It shouldn’t be that hard to be nice to someone.”

You scoffed, his attitude impressing you since it almost matched yours perfectly. You eyed him before opening your mouth to speak. “You’re right, it shouldn’t be. So why’re you making it so difficult then?” You asked, a small smirk tugging at the corner of your lips, your head tilted coyly.

He let out a quick sigh, jaw clenching in irritation. “Because, all I did was try and talk to you and you’re being a bitch about it.”

Your head jerked back slightly, your eyebrows automatically raised with a taunting smile of disbelief creeping up. “You just can’t help it with the foul language can you?” You said with a laugh, one that seemed to get on his nerves even more. It was almost impressive how irritable he was. “Maybe you should try talking to directly instead of bugging my friends—especially Chuck— about me. Y’know, like a conversation or something? Maybe start off with a small introduction like your name or something a little less hostile.”

“Fine, I’m—”

“I know who you are.” It wasn’t intentional but you realized that you had cut him off again. But instead of apologizing, you almost wanted to see how pissed he could get before stomping off.

He was definitely contemplating it, almost losing interest since your attitude made him want to smash his head against a rock, but his pure stubbornness was what kept him standing there. “Again with the cutting me off! Is that all you ever do? ‘S that why you don’t have any friends.”

Being the only girl in a glade full of boys made this seem like nothing compared what else you’ve heard, so his little insults and slight temper tantrum did nothing. “Well you said you wanted to talk to me, and I’m assuming you wanted to get to know me more since all you ever do is bother Chuck.” You said with a shrug. “Come on, you can do better than that, I know you can.”

Something about your tone, the way it was taunting him, teasing him in a way that he couldn’t tell if he should hate you or want to slam you against a tree and— he shook his head, seemingly getting rid of whatever was going through his mind. “Why, you want me to insult you? Treat you like a piece of shit like everyone else does?”

You didn’t respond. Rather, you just stood there, not bothering to move as he subtly took a few slow steps toward you.

“Or maybe it’s something else?” He said, head tilting in a certain way that allowed the small streaks of moonlight peering through the spaces above that weren’t covered by trees to illuminate the beginnings of smug look on his freckled face.

Of course you knew what he looked like, he was a gardener the first few days so you had the displeasure of working near him, but something about him being up close and the way the shadowy brightness of the moon cast a perfect gleam allowed you to really notice his features. You had to admit, he wasn’t a bad looking guy; short brown hair, a perfect nose that could make anyone jealous, pale skin littered with moles and freckles that didn’t seem to be on just his face, golden-brown eyes that looked darker than in the daylight, and you couldn’t tell if it was because of the tree coverage or some other reason…

“I bet it’s something else, isn’t it?” His voice was what snapped you from your thoughts, your eyes focusing back in on his darkening gaze.

“Huh?” You said, your eyes practically in slits at this point. You couldn’t tell if your question was actually a question, or if it was because you’d already forgotten what he asked before.

He took a step closer, yet he wasn’t actually that close. It was simply the darkness of the Deadheads and the way your other senses tried to account for your poor vision that made it seem like he was towering over you.

Or maybe he was.

“I said, are you just always a bitch like this, or do you do it because you like the way people respond. The way they get irritated and go off on you or treat you like shit all for you to complain about it afterwards.” You almost couldn’t believe his words. But what was less believable was the feeling that resonated in the pit of your stomach. One that had you thinking things you shouldn’t be.

“What? What the hell is wrong with you?” You spat out, trying to act offended.

His smirk grew, telling you that you reacted exactly how he expected. “You didn’t answer my question.” He took another step forward.

“I don’t have to.” You stepped back.

He noticed your slight step back, he also noticed the tree behind you—he same one you’d almost fallen asleep against earlier—getting closer each time. “I think it’s only fair that you do, so, go ahead. Answer it.”

Now, there were two ways you could’ve answered this. Which one did you choose? The one you knew would get the better reaction, of course. “Make me.”

One step later, you were already back up against the tree, seemingly nowhere to go (you could easily step to the side), and Thomas right in front of you, head tilted downwards to look at you because of the height difference. “I don’t think you really want me to. You’re just saying that.”

“Oh yeah? Try me.” You whispered lazily, a small gleam in your eyes as you looked up at him.

He brown ones bored into yours, an almost-mischievous glint behind them. He leaned down, his mouth inches from your ear, his hand against the tree on the other side of your head. “Maybe I will.”

You couldn’t help the way your knees felt weak, something about his voice; the raspiness embedded in his low, deep tone. “Maybe you should.” You breathed out, watching him pull back, his eyes flicking between your eyes and somewhere else.

His other hand slid around your waist, large palm being a source of heat as if the night air wasn’t already warm enough. It was torturous, the way his lips ghosted around your skin, every area he passed felt empty after the heat of his presence left, the way you felt his breath brush her face when he laughed at his own teasing actions.

His hand slid around to your lower back, pulling it forward in an arch as your upper back stayed against the tree. Thomas looked down at you, the very tip of his nose so close to yours that the heat radiating from him felt like he was actually touching you. You bit the inside of your cheek, never good with the whole ‘patience’ thing.

Thomas, on the other hand, could’ve dragged this out all night. But when he met your gaze, the look in your eye let the thought slip from his mind. It was when you whispered some words that didn’t quite stick in his brain against his lips, that’s what got to him. He bent down and connected your lips, the kiss wasn’t a slow, savoring-every-moment type of kiss. It was a hungry, sloppy, impatient kiss that made it seem like he was devouring you.

It was needy and heated, more teeth-clashing and tongue-tangling than anything. His lips were chapped and rough, but then again so we’re yours after two years in the glade.

His lips trailed down your cheek, then your jaw, then right under your jawline, nipping at the surprisingly soft skin. His lips followed your jawline until they were right under your ear, finding a sweet spot you didn’t even know you had.

You breathed out softly, biting the inside of your cheek as your head tilted backwards, hitting the bumpy bark of the tree. To your left was his outstretched arm that he used to hold himself up against a the tree, and to your right was his head, slightly buried in the crook of your neck as he peppered the spot with little nips as kisses. He freehand—the one that was on your lower back—slipped down to the curve of your ass, squeezing all around the plump skin.

“How’s this for getting to know you?” He breathed against your skin.

You bit your lip, just a little, but enough that his scrutinizing gaze caught it. “I think you, uh, you should get to know me just a little better, y’know?” You said, a small lump in the back of your throat that wouldn’t go down.

“Hmm, think I should, huh?” He teased.

“Mhm, yeah… y-you should.” You nodded, teeth gliding over your own bottom lip as you tugged his hair gently so he’d look up at you.

The heel of Thomas’s palm dug into your ass, prompting you to jump up a little. To jump right into his arms. Your thigh hitched up on his waist, his hand gliding from your ass to under your leg, finger tips reach the the inside of your thigh. Your other foot steady on the ground— well, would’ve been steady if you hadn’t stepped on a tree stump. Your footing faltered, twisting your ankle in the process and you pulled from the recently rekindled kiss to wince.

He chuckled and lifted up your other thigh, practically holding you up until you got the hint to wrap your legs around his waist. Your back was pressed into the tree, bare shoulders are partially-bare upper back collecting scratches and green moss smudges.

Thomas didn’t waste anymore time, the fingers of his free hand already sliding down your torso and half under the waistband of your jeans. He only stopped for a brief moment, looking up at you as you nodded back—maybe a little too eagerly.

He didn’t even bother to unbutton them or unzip them for the time being, his fingers twitching with the thought of touching you in mind. While he was just as impatient as you, he still managed to find the will in him to tease you. Two of his veiny fingers swipes over your panties, starting at the beginning of your wetness and dragging them all the way up to your cloth-covered clit. You couldn’t deny nor hide it anymore, you were soaked—rather, your panties were.

“Damn, this all for me? Guess you liked the idea of me proving you wrong, huh?” He taunted.

Your eyes bore into his like you wanted to say something snarky, but you literally could not lie. He felt it. He felt what he did to you. He knew the slight power he had over you—although you were sure he didn’t quite know just how much power he possessed.

Reluctantly, you tenaciously nodded up at him, just a very slight head movement that you hoped he’d miss, but of course he didn’t. You were grateful he didn’t respond, with words anyway, but you could see see the glint in his eye that made you want to kick him, slap him, anything you could to get your point across. But he made you weak in the knees, figuratively and literally since one of his hands was under your ass holding you up, your legs raveled around his waist and connected at his lower back.

At first, when you felt his hand leave your ass, you couldn’t decide whether to be disappointed by the loss of touch, or to expect your body to hit the ground. But it didn’t. He had you pinned against the tree, your legs already locked tightly around him, your arms slung around his neck.

His, now free, hand glides around to the front of your thigh, up your stomach (it would’ve gone under your shirt if he didn’t have other plans), over your tank top-covered breasts, fingers stopping momentarily to knead the dough-y flesh, and making their final stop around your throat just below your jaw—palm pressing against your airway loosely, pointer and thumb fingers settling below your ears on either side of your head.

The fingers caressing your sopping panties also became more active; drawing slow lines up and down.

“T-Thomas,” you stuttered, not because he hand was that tight, but simply because it was tight enough to warrant a gasp present in your words. “Don’t tease me.”

You were really in no position to be the one saying commands, but it was the sheer stubborn-confidence that impressed him enough to consider the choked out words. “As you wish.” He spoke, slipping two fingers past your panties, the material bunching to the side, and right into you without any warning. Well, to be fair he did give you a warning, just no time to process before you felt his long, slender fingers gliding against your walls.

“Fuck— Thomas.” You breathed out, your tone a little whiny. You were almost embarrassed at how easily you gave in, how easily you let him get you this way.

He gave your throat one last little squeeze and dropped his hand down to one of the straps on your tank top. He was considering sliding it under your shirt, but then he’d have to go through more trouble to get it off seeing as you were leaned against a tree. So, Thomas decided to take what he knew you’d give, and he tugged at the straps.

You knew your standards were low when consent made your heart swoon, feeling the nervous hot-and-cold sweats rack your body. But being the only girl in the glade, you were glad someone other than your friends was showing you respect…ish.

After seeing your nod, he slid the strap down and you pulled your arm back and through the thing fabric piece, the same was done on the other side. Thomas’s fingers were barely moving, too slow even for his teasing pace, but his brain had a little more focus on what he was trying to do with one hand.

A few seconds later, and you were gasping at the sudden coldness you felt against your pert nipples. It was an odd sensation, the glade was always hot yet when your bare chest was exposed, the air felt cool.

The chilled breeze caused the buds to instantly harden, making something of Thomas’s harden as well. “Shit, angel, no bra?”

You hadn’t worn a bra since today was one of those days— the ones with low energy, restless sleep barely giving you enough stamina to will yourself throughout the day. “No…” you admitted, almost shamefully.

Before you could even think, lips were wrapped around the sensitive buds, a tongue flat as it pressed over the top. You let out a noise somewhere between a whimper and a small moan, finger tangling in his hair automatically.

Thomas simply couldn’t leave your other side untreated, so he rolled your other nipple between his fingers while fucking you with the other hand. Every sound you made, whether it be a sigh, a moan, a whimper, a small whine of his name, each and every one of them seemed to be egging him on more. Like small pleas and begs for more of his touch.

And whether you knew it or not, that exactly what they were; your body whining, aching for anything he’d give you, grateful for the plainest stroke of his digits in your wet cunt, or the effortless drag of his smooth tongue across your pebbled nipple.

Somewhere between small praises and straight-up degradation, you manages you end up without any clothes and Thomas’s pretty face between your legs as you stand there against the tree; teeth clenched, thighs trembling, fingers scratching at his scalp leaving a stinging sensation in their wake. It felt good— the burn of your jagged nails against his already sensitive scalp, the sun un-ironically taking part in making sure it would hurt him.

The tree bark dug into your bare back as you simultaneously pushed yourself up on your tip-toes, squirming at the sensation of his tongue on your clit becoming too much, yet tugging his face further between your wobbly thighs with the grip you had on his brown hair.

Thomas decided he liked you best when you were like this; a sweaty, moaning, whimpering, indecisive mess for him— despite only speaking his first words to you less than an hour ago.

And quite frankly, you couldn’t care less. The only thing spurring you on, giving you the shamelessness needed to give yourself up like this was the undying need to cum. He had be fucking edging you this whole damn time, yet you couldn’t complain. Not while he was pleasuring you at least. Your protests came after you didn’t—after the way he’d suck on and swirl his tongue around your swollen bud, getting you right there, only to pull away as you were about to topple over the edge.

It might not have been verbal, but maybe you’d give his hair a particularly harsh yank, or dig your nails into his raw scalp with as much strength as you could muster. Unbeknownst to you, Thomas enjoyed it. He loved the way you whined and squirmed, body begging for a release even if your mouth was too stubborn to communicate it. He loved the pain you inflicted on him, the pricking sensation hurting so bad—yet not enough—that it felt good.

“Did I get you to change your mind yet, Angel?” Thomas spoke against your cunt, lips glistening with you juices, eyes dark as he looked up at you with a captivating stare that you fell prisoner to time and time again.

You bit down on your lip brutally, the discomfort not even phasing you anymore. You were sure your lips would be bruised and possibly bloodied in the morning for more than one reason. “Thomas… please,” There it was. The first real plead that spilled from your lips. Not the desperate whines or frustrated grunts you’d given him earlier, but an actual word that put your need on full display.

And it sounded better than he could’ve ever imagined.

“What’s wrong, princess? Am I not good enough for you?” He cooed, tone mocking your desire so damn condescendingly that if it were anyone else you’d send their skull flying against the maze walls.

But you couldn’t resist, he had you under his spell, wrapped around his finger. And you knew it. You both knew it. “Fuck me, make me cum… just do something for fucks sake!” Your voice held a guise of irritation and rage, but just behind that was the exact whininess that he was looking for.

“I think I like the sound of you begging for me. It’s pretty.” He whispered, whether to himself or you, you couldn’t find it in you to give a fuck anymore.

Thomas stood up, large hands sliding up the sides of your bare body, soft skin beneath his calloused fingertips. A whimper slipped from your swollen lips, the feeling of his hands setting your body ablaze, leaving goosebumps only the chilly day’s managed to give you in their wake. You felt like you were sweating buckets, yet the warmth radiating off his wide hands (or maybe you were just small) left the rest of your figure feeling frigid.

His lips wet lips met yours, hand meeting your throat as you gasped lightly at the taste of yourself on his tongue as he poked and prodded at your own. You didn’t even have to think about how easily you let him in, you blatantly followed his command no matter what form in came in without a second thought.

Fingers feeling needy, you reached for his belt and he slotted his knee between your thighs, pinning you against the tree for the umpteenth time tonight. However, you didn’t hear a protest or receive a firm look coded with a not-so-hidden message, so you proceeded with your actions, fingers fumbling with the flimsy metal piece until you hear the telltale clanking sound of his belt slithering through the denim loops and clashing against the dirt floor.

His jeans dropped next, nothing to hold them up or keep them in their place as you unzipped them. His shirt had been discarded earlier, just before he got to his knees in front of you, so it was one less article of clothing in your way.

But that didn’t matter, the only one you care about was still on him. Dainty fingers lightly brushed over his bulge, your eyes dropping for just a second to catch a glimpse of his clothed size before you had to tilt your head back up due to the hand holding your throat. It was dark, but your eyes were well adjusted by now; well enough to see the tent his erection formed as you unintentionally teased him.

Your hands were impatient, your whole being was impatient, but you could at least do something about the need to have your hands around him. After practically grabbing his hard-on through his boxers, palming it roughly for just a second, you didn’t even wait to get your hands inside his boxers. Immediately, you tugged your hand up his length, his impressively long length. He groaned, cock already throbbing, twitching at the thought of being buried inside you.

The noise almost took you by surprise, and you were almost proud of yourself for being the cause. You brought your left knee up his thigh, situating it comfortably in the groove of his hip, and pushed down the remaining fabric. His free hand assisted you and helped slide the other end down until he kicked away the item that he’d be searching for in the darkness later.

Digits finding his hardness again as you continued to make out, your thumb carelessly swiped over his slit as you handled his tip, collecting the bead of precum that had you wetter than the brook you were settled by during previous hours. He felt the heat of your fingers disappear, only to return moments later with arousal that couldn’t’ e been just his.

You coated his shaft with your sticky mixture, eliciting a deep groan from the back of Thomas’s throat. Regardless of you having the last few touches that made gave other pleasure, he still wanted to remind you who was really in control.

His fingers tightened around the column of your throat, his body pressing you into the tree even more, hard enough for you to feel each ridge of wood jabbing into your back. You felt his knee pushing up against your cunt, your slick automatically coating his thigh as you couldn’t help but grind yourself against him. He smirked—you didn’t see—, your actions appearing needy, so much so, that they were almost pathetic.

“It’s hot as fuck knowing I made you this wet, that I got you to the point where you don’t give a fuck about how pathetic you seem, the only thought in your brain is the desire for pleasure. For me to fuck you, huh?” His words were spat with hot breath waving against your cheek, it was hard not to give in and accept his words.

“Please, Tommy… need you inside me,” until the words came out, you weren’t aware of how shameless they’d be, of how much you sounded exactly like he described. “‘nd I know you do too.” you added shortly after in an attempt to recollect some of your dignity. Didn’t work. He saw right through you.

But what did work what the whine you put on his name, the one that few called him, but only you could have him contemplating between fucking you like a normal person, or fucking you for so long and hard that neither of you could walk straight or have any cum left to give. Obviously there was only one choice in his eyes, but you couldn’t see it. You could only see blown pupils, so wide that just a sliver of brown, lust-tainted color rimmed the pitch-black darkness.

You resumed the position you were in earlier; legs squeezed tight around his waist as if your life depended on it, ankles locked in the back, heels digging into his spine a few inches above his tailbone. Your arms wrapped around the nape of his neck, while his hand was settled at the base of yours.

Striving to be a tease, Thomas watched your reactions while he rubbed his tip up and down your wetness, starting from your hole, up to the top of your clit, then back down. Something about the moves, so calculated, so precious, so damn taunting that it almost seemed like he was mocking you, it was all becoming too much. He had been edging you all night—well, enough to to feel like it was all night—that you knew he was nearing the end of his limits as well.

Impatient by nature, Thomas merely gave your throat a warning squeeze before he slipped his tip inside. He may have been ruthless with his teasing, yes, but he wasn’t heartless. He waited, kept his hips still against his own will until you nodded or squeezed his hair each time you wanted him to push in just a smidge further. He praised and affirmed you with words you didn’t even process since the only thing your mind could focus on was the contrast of pleasure with a little bit of sting. You wanted nothing more for him to be fully sheathed inside you, fucking your stupid—and so did he—, but you decided it best for you to take it slow. At first.

Once his hips were flush with yours, hard cock filling you in ways you didn’t even know existed, you adjusted your legs around his waist, shifting until the discomfort went away mostly. You didn’t even nod or give and indignation before you bucked your hips against his, causing a sigh to fall from his pink, kiss-bitten lips, while a light moan fell from yours. He took that as his sign you were ready, and he slowly pulled his hips from yours with a semi-gentle test thrust first before he saw you were okay, then he picked up his pace in a matter of seconds.

“Fuck, angel, you’re so tight.” He groaned against your neck, hot breath symbolizing a warning before his lips were all over the soft skin.

You whimpered, your hands automatically lacing in his hair and tugging at the roots, nails occasionally scratching at his scalp. You don’t know how long your hand stayed like that before realizing you needed something better to grasp, to hold on and cling to like your fate was dependent on it.

One are tucked under his, the other following suit, and soon both hands were clawing down his back, the feeling prompting Thomas to pound away harder. Teeth against your neck let you know that you’d have to wear your hair down for the next few days, and possibly skip meals at the homestead to avoid being seen as well. Even so, you didn’t care right now. You were to wrapped up in the way his fucked into you, mercilessly pounding away at you pussy, the wet squelching sounds coming from where the two of you were connected absolutely sinful.

You knew the gladers had gone to sleep however long ago, but you also knew that a few had a hard time sleeping. Thank god Chuck had knocked out before you came out here.

The threat of getting caught is what caused you to bury your face in his shoulder, head leaning against his outstretched arm that was holding the tree for support. You nips and suck at the skin of his collarbone right where it connects to his shoulder, albeit much weaker and definitely less effort put in than him, but it gives you something to do, along with practically gouging your uneven nails down his sweaty back, to keep your mind off the seething moans that threaten to rip from your throat.

After awhile of hearing you go silent and feeling the pressure of both your lips and fingers on his skin increase, Thomas grows annoyed with your lack of sound. You feel his hand leave your throat, but you don’t exactly process it, your brain overwhelmed with too many things to worry about the loss of touch, but you do feel where it ends up. Your head is abruptly yanked back, yet somehow as gently as possible although is still leaves a pained sensation. Thomas’s fingers were in between the weaves of your—now very loose and incredibly messy—braid, forcing you to look at him as he fucks you. He seemed to know exactly what you were thinking.

“Don't muffle yourself. Let them hear your whiny voice, baby. Everyone should know how good I'm fucking you.” Without a barrier to block your noises, you let out a moan at his words alone. And then everything comes crashing down. You give up on trying to quiet yourself, only having enough left in you to chase that feeling that leaves you whining incoherent words that maybe he understands, digging and clawing at any available surface you can get you dainty little fingers on (which is most likely his back or shoulder), and letting yourself go completely—letting him take care of you.

And boy does he know how to take care of you. For someone you’ve never spoken a word to until tonight, he knows how to fuck you right. He knows how to have you in his arms, body practically limp and a deadweight which only impales you more on his dick. And when he hears that you’ve given in to more than just his one request by letting your jaw fall slack, any moans or whimpers just free to waltz out, he leans in close to whisper in your ear, voice deep and slightly raspy; “Good girl.”

He feels the way your fingernails grips his shoulders harder, possibly hard enough to draw blood, and the way your already-tight walls clench around him even more. Something in his mind clicks for him that doesn’t for you, probably because your too busy with the way he fills you up so damn well his tip kisses your cervix each time you come back down on him and he fucks back up.

“You like being called a good girl, huh? You like being told how good you feel around me, being praised for doing what I say like the good girl you are?” He knows what he’s doing at this point. But that was stop you from enjoying it nonetheless.

“F—yeah, fuck, I do.” You agree with what little sanity to have left, mustering a nod that almost spends every ounce of energy.

Your eyes have him in a trance; watery, pupils blown, looking up at him with the most innocent looking eyes he could ever think of. Except he knew you weren’t innocent.

“I bet no one else fucks you like this, huh, angel? No one else gives you princess treatment because they’re too busy trying to find a way to get in your panties to even think about treating you right. But a part of you likes it, don’t you?” You merely whined, words failing you as he smirked and kept going. “You like the fact that half the guys here probably jerk off to the thought of you when they’re alone, think of you as some little slut that everyone gets a turn with in their minds. The glade’s own whore, hmm?”

“F-Fuck, Thomas,” you whimper, the feeling his words give you turning into physical pleasure, not just for yourself, but for Thomas as well when he feels your warm walls squeezing around his shaft.

“Don’t tell me you haven’t thought about it; just whoring out and fucking every guy in this place? But your so damn innocent—too damn innocent, it’s why half the guys here can’t seem to get their mind off you.” He grunts between thrusts, as if his hips slamming into yours punctuates each word. “Don’t worry, after tonight I think enough people around here will have learned who got to fuck you. I’ll treat you right, princess.”

Both hands clenched at whatever they can, and Thomas feels the crescent-shaped nail marks already imbedding themselves in his shoulder and nose of his neck.

You were getting undeniably closer, and you were afraid that he might edge you again. Hell, you were afraid that you let him have that much power over you. In spite of your efforts, your own voice adding to the ringing in your ears as you bucked your hips downwards— if even possible with the force he had you pressed against the tree with. “Don’t stop… please, please don’t stop, Tommy.” You begged, pathetically desperate for him to finally let you release.

“Only if you keep making those pretty little sounds, angel.” And you did; effortlessly obeying his commands, when in reality it was inevitable that your sounds escaped at some point. You just didn’t hold back at all. At least you didn’t talk to very many people, otherwise they would’ve been suspicious of your barely-there voice if the hadn’t already heard you screaming the night before.

His thrusts became irregular, and at first you thought he was going to tell you that you didn’t do well enough for him, seize yet another orgasm from you like he had been doing all night. What you didn’t realize was that he was slowing down to edge himself, not wanting to cum to early or before you did.

Thomas decided you wouldn’t mind a few scratches on your back, maybe a few splinters, ‘cause it sure as hell looked like you wouldn’t give a damn right now, so he took his supporting hand off the tree and encased it around your throat, admiring the way his hand seemed to swallow you whole. His free hand fled to your clit, rubbing circles against the sensitive bud as you cried out his name. It was mindless, you hadn’t even realized it. That’s what made it so fucking hot.

Time and time again, you continued to impress him with how easily you could be controlled, completely fucked out to the point you only knew his name and the word ‘please’. “Atta girl. That’s right, let everyone know who’s fucking you like this.” You whimpered his name again, the word simply rolling off your tongue without a thought. He wasn’t even sure if you said it because you followed orders so well, or if it was really the only thing you could say.

“T-Thomas, shit—fuck, I’m g—” your sentence was left unfinished since you couldn’t breathe, your lungs on fire just like the rest of your skin. It could’ve been from the way Thomas’s hand was unconsciously restricting your airway a little too much, though, once he noticed he eased up. Either way, he got your message loud and clear. And he could feel his own release brewing in the pit of his stomach.

“Please… please don’t stop this time. I-I can’t take it anymore… need to cum.” You whined between shallow breaths before he could even speak.

His pace and force picked up to almost inhuman speeds, basically fucking you into the tree behind you. “I won’t, I promise.”

As if the words didn’t register, mindless pleas were pouring from you, “I have to—’m so close, Tommy, please.”

“I know, baby, I know. Me too, alright? So your gonna be a good girl and cum for me, yeah?” It wasn’t until his thumb pressed against the bundle of nerves he was previously circling, did his words finally sink in.

Along with his gentle demand came your orgasm that you didn’t know had been so close the whole time. Your walls enveloped him so tight he was sure his dick would slip out, but it didn’t. It stayed inside your warm, velvety wetness, twitching but thrusting sloppily throughout your high as his neared.

You were seeing stars, and you were pretty sure they weren’t the ones in the night sky above you. Your nails dug so harshly into his chest and back that your fingers aches, and you could only imagine the number you’d done on him. The feeling was euphoric, sure you’d never come down from the drunken-high feeling. Your thighs shook, muscles spasming as your nerves felt like they were frying at the slight overstimulation he was giving you.

Feeling you cum around him, his cock twitched inside you, soon giving into the demands of your velvety warmth and wet squelching sounds. “Fuck, shit—such a good girl, angel… such a good fucking girl for me.” He moaned out, his voice the softest it’d been yet, but still somehow possessing the same roughness as before.

You felt a hot-warmth gush inside you, your face already buried deep in his shoulder again as you physically could not keep your head up. “Just for you.” You whimpered, enjoying the feeling of being completely filled to the brim, his hand coming off your throat to slide around the back of your neck in a somewhat-comforting hold. The feeling of being taken care of.

[kichikichiko]

Just a quickie ♡

YALL ITS MY FIRST TIME WRITING SMUT IM DUJSJCKSJD.

Theres not enough sub wanderer fics around here istg⁉️

Anyways be kind to me and my first smut work because I am a fluff writer by heart👹👹

Tagging my lovely @hitomisuzuya because shes my fellow wanderer lover 🫶🏻

Written by a minor! Just block if ur uncomfortable😁

Sort of public sex, sub!wanderer x gen neutral! Reader, hand job, idk whatelse to write, not proofread

♡♡♡♡

"You idiot! What if we get caught here! Ah! Mmhm~"

Wanderer covered his mouth, when a not so innocent sound came out of his mouth.

"Thats fine by me" you answered honestly, too focused on painting his pretty neck with kisses and hickeys. "Let's just make sure its an enjoyable show for those who caught us"

The chances of getting caught was high, considering there isnt a lot of private alleyways in sumeru city, but you made the most of it.

Wanderer covered his mouth anytime a whimper or moan of his was deemed "too loud" by his standard.

But that only riled you to take his arms up and pin it above his head.

"Youre doing this on purpose. I fucking know it, you horny bitch" he whimpered, trying to get his arms free before the inevitable comes to play. He acts all high and mighty and doesnt help with his big ego. But it all comes crumbling down the moment you trap him between your arms.

"Aw but you like it though wanderer" you teased, a smirk plastered on your face. "Especially when I do this" you started grinding your knee up to his growing erection, making the man whimper louder.

More soft moans and whimpers escaped his mouth before you stopped. Causing Wanderer to look at you and frown.

"Why'd you stop? You could have at least get it over with and we can finally go home. Hurry up and do it again before I-" his sentence once again got interupted with you suddenly placed your hand on his chest, and slowly drag down to his erection, and under his pants.

"What are you doing?!" He demanded an answer, his race growing red by the minute.

"What does it look like im doing?" You gently circled your finger around the tip of his cock before wrapping your arm around it and started pumping it.

"Oh archons- no- mmhm~ a-ahh~!" He started moaning louder . "(Name) please dont stop! Please dont dont dont!" Babbling nonsense got you riled up more and started pumping his cock faster.

"Wait- no - stop! I think im gonna cum" he started squirming, hands still above his head trying to get them free

"Didnt you say I shouldnt stop? Why are you complaining now? Come on, cum for me my dear" that only made you pump his cock faster than before, catching wanderer off guard and made him release a loud moan and cum all over your hand.

Wanderer plopped his head on your shoulder and twitches anytime you toy with the tip of his cock.

"Lets continue this at home shall we? Im not done with you yet wanderer"

It was gonna be a long night indeed

♡♡♡♡

[terminally-outsiders-obsessed]

if your insert got hurt what would the gang do

OMG SORRY IT TOOK SO LONG FOR ME TO GET TO THIS I honestly didn’t have any motivation to actually write so here we are

anyways lemme start yapping (warning might be a bit ooc but I’m trying really hard for it not to be so it’s not intentional)

TW: mention of wounds and being jumped n such, brief mention of weed, though it’s nothing too graphic (unless you count inexperience with drugs graphic /j). stay safe yall 💕

Darry

Darry is a father figure to Casper (as he is with most of the gang), and I can imagine two different scenarios

one: Casper got jumped (probably for snagging money from the socs for weed) and Darry lightly scolds him about being more careful around the socs and tries to encourage him not to get money from them

two: Casper just does something stupid, which leads to him getting way more harsh scolding

either way, Darry still scolds him (yet while patching him up)

Sodapop

oh sodapop you sweet man

for most of these it’s just gonna be in the context of Cas getting jumped

Sodapop thinks of Casper as another brother due to how close Casper and Ponyboy are, and also the Curtis’ by default

Sodapop is very comforting and such as he patches Cas up, making sure that he doesn’t hurt him too much while disinfecting his wounds

10/10 my favorite himbo /j

Ponyboy

had to leave and brainstorm then come back but I think I got an idea

Ponyboy acts a lot like Sodapop, yet less comforting but only because he’s a little awkward

Pony definitely doesn’t leave Cas alone for a little after, mostly because he knows that Cas is a particular target of the socs

Johnny

warning Johnny and Casper are gay and they kiss but they’re both boys oooooo

Johnny nearly tweaks when Cas gets jumped lmao

he’s like Ponyboy and is a bit awkward but less so because he has gotten jumped pretty bad before too ofc

after the Curtis brothers patch Cas up, Johnny and him go back to Casper’s

Casper can smoke weed in piece as he rests his head on Johnny’s chest and yaps about what happened then they pass out

I love my gays hi gays

Dally

Dally acts like he hates Casper but they act more like brothers

Dally laughs at him for getting jumped and then very seriously asks about what the socs look like so he can beat they ahh

Let’s up on their roughhousing until he knows Casper is healed bc he’s not a monster (debatable)

Steve

steve fans I’m so sorry idk what to write for lil bro, I’ll try to do a character study or smth later so I can think of something for him cries

one of yall should help me with Steve’s character I need assistance from the professionals

will update later if I think of anything

Two-Bit

two-bit is a silly goose omg

he shows genuine concern but also jokes around and they giggle together bc Casper is practically high 25/8 and finds everything funny

them and dally are such a trio omg I could write about them for days tbh (don’t ask me to it would take ten years)

mickey mouse is on while Casper is being patched up and both of them giggle and watch

my skrunle bungus 💕💕💕💕💕 the scrimblo bimblo 💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕

ANYWAYS THATS IT GAMERS YAYYYYYY sorry it took so long

everyone please send me asks if you have anything you want me to yap about!!!! okay byeeeeee

tagged ppl: @gay-poet-gabriel

[cas-backwards-tie]

Last Line Tag

rules: share the last line written, tag some peeps, have some fun!

Ahh! Thank you for tagging me @indigosunsetao3 ❤️🫂 I always love being tagged in stuff and while I may be a little blocked on some of these more than others, I always love to share what I’m up to!

The Long Road, Chapter Three:

[idk if this will wind up the last line. I’m still rearranging and have to write the main bit before trying to segue into the next chapter which is more juicy!]

Hacking into other government's private servers for information is... well, tedious, much like the task before you. Yet, he doesn't see any benefit to it. You'd already offered to tell him whatever he pleases. 'An open book,' he remembers you saying.

Trials & Triumphs, Chapter Five:

[ik ch.4 isn’t even out yet but there’s just a lot to finish w the activities they’re doing]

"The Big Apple," Price reiterates with a look of amusement. "Looks like we're goin' to America, boys."

Heiress of Gotham, Chapter Seven:

[I actually just need to get on the laptop to finalize the last min edits and publish]

While Damian had vaguely put up a fight against you driving, it was his only option of getting home, so he acquiesced. Nevertheless, you’re feeling hopeful for the beginning of the new school year!

tagging: @waves-against-a-cliff , @eowynstwin , @glossysoap , @vgilantee , @sprout-fics , @safarigirlsp , @void-my-warranty , @penelopepine

[thefourfan]

sorry for sending a uh message again but

i feel like animaticlock is dying or som???

it doesn't hzve a lot of content for it/about it anymore

i feel like this is due to people just getting tired of the ship of hyperfixating on different things, like im obsessed with gravity falls rn. But I still somewhat like animaticlock?

idk it just doesn't make me as happy as it used to..

and it's rlly a shame cause i like both shows but im really just getting tired of it

same with the shows,,,, but that's only because i rewatched them too much lol

its a shame the ship is dying tbh

me when the when

random but

yapper x listener ahh gif 😭😭🙏🙏

Yeah I've been noticing that too...

It's been frustrating me a little bit because I still very much have a hyperfixation on the ship and it's been becoming increasingly harder to find new content of it 😭

Ofc, people can move on from Animaticlock if they want, it's their accounts and they can do whatever makes them happy but MAN I'm starving out here ×_×

I've also noticed that whenever people do post stuff for the ship now, it gets significantly less attention than it did back in June.

I calculated some statistics to see what the average number of notes for posts under the Animaticlock tag during this month so far are compared to the first 12 days of June:

Average for August: 14 notes

Number of August posts: 17

Average for June: 92 notes

Number of June posts: 18

Surprisingly the number of posts in the first 12 days of these two months were about the same, but as I suspected, the attention these posts received significantly declined. Keep in mind that these time periods are only 2 months apart from one another!

Aninaticlock is absolutely on a decline right now, which sucks for everyone who's still hooked on the ship but I think we should've seen this coming:

I agree with you, I think people are getting tired of it, and I think I might know the reason why. Animaticlock is a crosship, and thing with crosships is that they, in almost all circumstances, NEVER get any sort of canon interactions. While we did get two crossover videos involving the actual voice actors, this videos aren't canonical. While some people can will through that and stay fully invested in a ship like that, a lot of people can't. A lot of people need at least some sort of canon interaction to keep them excited in the ship because it makes it way easier to see exactly what their dynamic is like.

Animaticlock is special in the way that it managed to become a popular ship at all despite this. However, it was still unlikely that most shippers would continue to be as into the ship as they were when they first got hooked on it because of what I explained about crosships earlier (plus other reasons like getting new interests/hyperfixations that pull them away from it), so it was nearly guaranteed to have a decline, and that's exactly what's happening right now.

I'll still continue to make more Animaticlock stuff despite this tho, dw lol I'm not done with the ship yet

Also I literally love that GIF sm it's so SILLY ^_^

[badsalmonella]

Tag game: tag 9 people you’d like to get to know better

Thanks for tagging me, @bbreaddog

Last song: What's Up- 4 Non Blondes (it's one of my go to karaoke songs lol)

Currently watching: Ohhh I'm in the middle of watching Turn, but I had to put it on the backburner while I'm not home (me and my roommate are watching together) but it was really starting to pick up! I watched a couple episodes of House of Dragon on a plane. (I have never watched GoT before lolol)

Three ships: ahh ouuuhhh hMmm....? (This is hard for me I'm a chew on 1 ship at a time for at LEAST a year kind of girl lmaooo I really don't have many)

-Arthur/ Lancelot/ Guinevere

-Orpheus/ Eurydice

-Anthony/ Kate

Favourite color: Ohhh this always a hard one 🤔

Maybe at the moment I'm really digging light pink. I've been wearing it a lot.

Currently consuming: nothing I'm in bed atm.

First Ship: Rapunzel/ Eugene from Taaaangled 💖💖 though I do remember calling my friend on my Bratz phone that looked like a pair of their freakishly large lips and being like "I just saw the movie Wall-E in theaters and man those robots made me feel every emotion. Those robots made me believe in love wtf? 😭" Anyways I don't think middle school me knew what shipping was but yet but I think I classify that as "shipping behavior" lmaooo

Edit: wait....I forgot before that.....I was a Team Jacob Twilight reader 😔😔😔 (That didn't last long after I got through the final book though. Never expected that baby imprinting curve ball 😬)

Relationship status: very single

Last movie: Her (2013)

Currently working on: Many silly fanfics about those three blorbos from the Kingdom where weather follows decrees but a lot are getting half done then abandoned 🫣 oops

But also in the middle of painting the garden at my mom's family home. There's like this crazy large teal Virgin Mary display thing out there and her face is all messed up from the elements idk I was like this wants to be painted I think lolol (my aunt wants me to clean up her face for the painting tho 😂 gksjkfjd )

Tagging:

@mooremars @thebrokenroads @jackyfalahees @snowrassa @wolfbabedeluxe @whorphydice

[generaltrashshecox]

smoshblr tag game!

Thank you to @japhan2024 for tagging me!

1. how long have you been watching smosh?

Ooh an embarrassing one. It's been a year now though I've known about them for a loooong time but Anthony coming back definitely started my journey.

2. favorite smosh cast member(s)?

Damien, Shayne, Ian, Anthony (but I love everybody honestly! This was a hard one honestly)

3. favorite pairing(s)?

Hmm I wonder what it is? Lol but seriously antmien has my heart and it doesn't even make sense why but here I am. (Have you seen my layout??)

4. favorite reoccurring character?This is a basic bitch answer but the moment I saw The Chosen I was changed as a person. You don't even understand how many times I say "impressive" in his voice. I want to cosplay him one day ajjs

5. favorite smosh video?

Hmm this is a tough one... On the top of my head maybe the Hide and Seek video with Anthony? It's just such a good one.

6. first video that got you into smosh?

Um... We Bought Smosh 💀💀💀 listen once again I heard about them knew Anthony left and actually watched Anthony's content and for that to happen was a shocker! Maybe even Ian's ISADW (which made me fall asleep which was wild because at that time I could barely get any rest. Did I ever say I was having a mental breakdown when I started watching Smosh? Yeahhhh)

7. favorite picture of the cast?

Just look at them all!

8. favorite picture of your fave?

Honestly-

(submissive and breedable)

9. what smosh series do you want to see more of?

Hm I don't really know. I would say sword af but I haven't even the second season yet (I was on top of it but then life happened and ajsj ahh I need to catch up)

10. dream guest on smosh mouth?

Uh I actually don't know! My YouTube tastes are all over the place so I don't know who would fit with them. Ooh since they came in the Ten Minute Power Hour maybe the Game Grumps? Idk lol

Tagging whoever wants to do this!

[bellaxgiornata]

OMG BELLAAAAA 😭

Idk this idea keeps rattling my brain— I must share and ramble to you about Matt hehe. AND LIKE I WANT UR INPUT ON THIS, idk how to flesh this out at all.

There’s a printer shop that also prints out braille papers for documents and stuff, right? So the reader is the one working in that printer shop, and my what if scenario is that usually Foggy or Karen picks up those files cuz Matt is out doing Daredevil things and befriends Foggy and Karen, and the reader was always like curious to who the braille papers are for.

THEN ONE DAY, Matt has to pick up those documents and legal papers from that store and he’s all flirty and the reader is like stumbling over her words and never expected him to ever show up.

I dunno, this idea has been rolling around in my brain 🥺😭

(p.s. I just read seeking forgiveness and THE ANGST, ohmygod 😭 pls i’m DYING. MATT DONT BE DUMB GO BACK TO HER.)

OMG HI! I love seeing you in my asks! 💕

First off--OH I LOVE THIS! Do you know if it's just a one shot you want to write or is it a couple of parts? My advice would be to break it down by scene to start with (and you might think of more as you're writing). I'll just give examples of what I see from what you've said which might help you flesh it out or come up with scenes that you see happening. If that makes sense?

And because this is probably a long post, I'll put it after the cut off for those who aren't interested in my rambling.

I could totally see Reader having an interaction with Foggy or Karen as they're coming in to pick up the papers like they usually do--joking around, asking how the week is going, etc. Then we see Reader yet again wondering who it is they're always picking the papers up for as they're leaving. If she's become friends with them already, she must know that they work for Nelson & Murdock (or Nelson, Murdock, & Page if she's part of the firm), so she knows he's a lawyer but not much else. Or you could always have it be that Foggy and Karen think Matt would like her, so they scheme to make him go pick up the papers to finally have them meet. Especially if they've been getting to know her for awhile and have become friends with Reader. Maybe if they've been scheming to set them up, Foggy and Karen might've already been telling Reader a little about Matt and she thinks he sounds perfect and she already has a little crush on him without having met him.

Then maybe it cuts to a few nights later, she's doing her usual work and then she hears someone enter the shop and looks up and spots Matt. And is like...dumbstruck at first. Because one: he's insanely attractive. And two: she's never seen him in there before. So when she asks how she can help him, she's fumbling over her words. When he says he's there to pick up the order for the firm, flashing his charming smile because he can read that she's flustered, she's surprised he's that guy. Then he flirts a bit more before he leaves.

Cut to another night--it isn't Foggy or Karen picking up the papers this time, but Matt. Again. And he's flirty and charming and she's stunned that he showed up again, wondering why he's once again picking up the order when he usually never does. Then either that night or another night he stops back in to pick up the papers and he asks her on a date?

Just some suggestions on helping you flesh it out! Hopefully I didn't overstep with offering ideas, but I think you have a great idea there and you can certainly play around with it and come up with something great! If you write it please tag me or let me know because I'd love to read it!

And ahh!! Thank you!! You know I love the angst! You'll definitely see what you've been waiting for in part five with that series 🙃