#using Bass for expression practice is fun

[electrical-communication]

oh shit requests?? um first let me state that i love ur art a whole lot, recently found you on this site and you are very cool. second. um could you draw tundra man or bass (whichever one you prefer)?

AOaughhh first off this message is so sweet!! I really appreciate it!! It means a lot‼️‼️‼️ to me‼️‼️

[blissfulflw]

°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･𝑆𝑤𝑒𝑎𝑡 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑆𝑝𝑎𝑟𝑘𝑠

Pairing- Kim Chaewon x fem reader

Genre- Fluff

Word count- 5656

A/N: Another spin off of a fic!! 😛

Part 1 - Part 2

Interviews - Dorms - Awards - Prank

The studio air was warm and heavy with the sound of footsteps, the thud of bass from the speakers, and the soft squeak of sneakers on polished floors. You stood in the center of the practice room, chest rising and falling steadily, the tail end of the choreography still fresh in your muscles.

Your black crop top clung to your frame, the hem rising just enough to show a glimpse of toned abs. Sweat glistened at your temples, dark strands of hair escaping the ponytail tied high at the back of your head. You moved without speaking, repeating the step sequence on your own as the others took a break on the couch along the mirrored wall.

You hadn’t even noticed them watching you.

“You see her?” Yunjin whispered, nudging Sakura with her elbow.

“Hard to miss,” Sakura replied, a teasing lilt in her voice as she watched you slide into another sharp move, your expression locked in that same unreadable focus.

Eunchae leaned forward, resting her chin in her hand. “Y/N looks like she’s in another universe when she practices.”

“She’s hot when she’s serious,” Yunjin added, grinning. “You can tell she’s not even thinking about how good she looks—makes it worse.”

Sakura laughed quietly. “I’d kill for her waistline. Seriously, that crop top should be illegal.”

“And those cargos,” Kazuha whispered, wiggling her brows. “She’s got the ‘cool loner’ look down perfectly.”

Chaewon sat at the far end of the couch, unusually quiet. Her arms were crossed, her eyes glued to you as you moved, unaware of the five pairs of eyes silently analyzing your every breath. She wasn’t laughing. Not exactly. But there was something unreadable in her expression—something soft, simmering beneath the surface.

You paused finally, stepping back to the water bottle near your bag. You popped the cap off, the black one you’d discarded earlier lying beside your phone on the floor. As you tilted your head back to drink, the curve of your jawline was highlighted in the light. You wiped your mouth with the back of your hand, completely unaware of the way the room’s attention had shifted squarely to you.

“She doesn’t even know,” Sakura said under her breath, glancing toward Chaewon. “Do you think we should tell her?”

“Nope,” Yunjin said with a sly grin. “But I do think we should mess with her a little.”

“What kind of mess?” Chaewon finally asked, her voice low but calm, her eyes still never leaving you.

“The fun kind,” Yunjin said. “Let’s see what it takes to make her flustered during practice.”

Eunchae perked up. “We could make it seem like a game. Like, ‘who can make Y/N blush the fastest’ kind of thing.”

“Oh no,” Sakura laughed, rubbing her hands together. “That’s evil.”

“But it’s fair,” Yunjin said. “She killed us during the pocky game just by being her. She deserves a little chaos.”

Chaewon didn’t respond at first. Her gaze followed you as you returned to the mirror, adjusting your posture, correcting your footwork. There was something about how seriously you took this. How precise you always were. How detached—but not in a careless way. You cared. Probably too much. You just didn’t let anyone see it.

Her eyes fell to the rise and fall of your shoulders, the way your fingers flexed briefly before resetting for the next round. The soft glimmer of sweat on your back. She hated how her chest tightened when you caught a glimpse of yourself in the mirror and frowned at your own reflection, as if you weren’t enough.

“You guys go ahead,” Chaewon finally muttered. “Let’s see what she does.”

The group smirked in unison, already plotting. You, meanwhile, took a deep breath, oblivious to the trap being laid just a few feet behind you.

You were halfway through the chorus section again, arms moving cleanly through the motions as your reflection stared back at you with sharp precision. You barely registered the other members whispering behind you—something about taking a break, sitting out for just a minute. You assumed they were tired. You didn’t think much of it. You were used to being in your own head.

Your baggy cargos shifted slightly with each move, but your top clung to your skin now, damp with sweat. You huffed and corrected your shoulder angle, then dropped into the next part of the routine.

And then—warm hands.

Two palms slid softly around your waist from behind, light but deliberate, and your entire body stiffened. One hand adjusted your hip, the other your elbow—just enough to feel intimate. Your breath hitched as the person behind you leaned in, their voice right beside your ear.

“Your weight’s a little off,” Yunjin said, her tone smooth and casual, like this was nothing. Like you weren’t completely frozen from the contact.

You blinked, jaw clenching as your eyes flicked up to the mirror—only to see Yunjin standing just behind you, smug grin barely restrained, eyes twinkling with mischief.

“R-relax your stance a little,” she added innocently. “Like this.” She gently tilted your hips with her hand and then stepped back.

You were flustered. Completely and utterly thrown off.

“I… I had it,” you muttered, trying to recover, gaze dropping to the floor to escape your flushed reflection.

But it was too late. The rest of the girls had already noticed. Eunchae burst into a quiet giggle, covering her mouth. Sakura raised an eyebrow knowingly. Yunjin just winked as she returned to the couch like nothing had happened.

Chaewon, still seated with one leg crossed over the other, had watched the entire thing without saying a word. But her jaw had tensed slightly. Her eyes flickered from Yunjin back to you. You were fiddling with the hem of your shirt now, adjusting the edge of your top like it might help you regain some sense of control.

You cleared your throat, shook it off, and reset your stance—just like before.

But now you could feel them watching. And the worst part? You could still feel the ghost of Yunjin’s fingers adjusting your waist.

The music restarted. You danced again—this time, a little stiffer, a little more focused. Not because you wanted to be perfect… but because your heart was beating way too fast.

And Chaewon couldn’t look away.

_____

The song played again, filling the studio with pounding rhythm and repetition, but your body wasn’t moving like before. Not with the same ease. Your shoulders were slightly tight. Your jaw, tense. It wasn’t the choreography—it was the memory of Yunjin’s touch, still echoing in your skin.

You hated how easily you unraveled.

You could feel their eyes—playful, harmless, but there. Watching. Waiting.

You exhaled hard, bracing yourself. Focus, you told yourself. Just dance.

You turned back to the mirror, raising your arms to start from the pre-chorus when—

“Stop.”

Chaewon’s voice cut through the air, calm but direct. You froze mid-step.

She stood now, her figure silhouetted by the soft lights from the studio ceiling, one hand resting lightly on her hip. The others quieted. Even Yunjin paused, curiosity flickering across her face.

Chaewon walked toward you slowly, not with Yunjin’s teasing playfulness, but with something more unreadable. Measured. Her gaze didn’t waver from yours in the mirror as she approached.

Your heart skipped.

“You’re forcing your body too much,” she said, stopping right behind you, her voice quieter now. “You’re overthinking the transitions.”

“I’m not—” you started, but she didn’t let you finish.

She moved behind you again, like Yunjin had—but different. Her touch wasn’t playful. It was slow, deliberate, careful.

She placed one hand lightly on your lower back, guiding it just a few centimeters inward, then rested her other hand on your shoulder blade, steadying it. Her fingers were warm—gentle, but not hesitant.

You didn’t dare breathe.

“Like this,” she said softly, her lips just beside your ear now. “You keep your power, but you don’t lock your frame. See the difference?”

You nodded stiffly. Your reflection in the mirror was turning crimson.

The room was silent now. Even the members didn’t dare speak. Not because of tension—but because there was something about this that didn’t feel like a joke anymore.

Chaewon’s touch lingered only a second longer, but that second was enough to short-circuit your thoughts.

She stepped back, meeting your eyes in the mirror with an unreadable expression.

“Got it?” she asked, calm and clipped—but her eyes said something else. They were searching, maybe even testing.

You swallowed hard. “Y-yeah.”

“Good.”

She returned to her spot by the mirror wall, grabbing her water bottle and sitting again like nothing happened.

But your pulse was still racing.

“Okay…” Eunchae muttered under her breath, nudging Yunjin. “That was kinda intense.”

“Chaewon’s acting weird,” Yunjin whispered, eyes flicking between the two of you. “She never helps with corrections like that.”

You barely heard them. You turned back to the mirror, trying to reset your stance again, but you couldn’t stop thinking about the press of Chaewon’s hand against your back. How close she’d been. How her voice had softened—not out of mockery, but out of something that felt too careful.

She hadn’t teased you. She hadn’t laughed.

She’d seen you.

And for the first time in a while… that terrified you.

_____

The door clicked shut as the last of the members filed out, their laughter fading down the hallway.

“Don’t take too long!” Sakura called, the sound trailing off behind her.

You gave a vague nod without turning. You’d heard them say something about grabbing food. It was fine. They always remembered your preferences. You never had to ask.

Still, you stayed. Knees slightly bent, eyes locked on your reflection, already resetting the chorus. You moved like you always did when you were alone—sharp, restrained, pushing your body to its edges. Not for fun. Not for praise. For control. For the illusion that maybe, if everything hit right, something inside you might finally feel enough.

You didn’t notice Chaewon still in the room.

She hadn’t said anything when the others left. Just waved off Eunchae’s question and stayed behind, her water bottle untouched beside her. She watched you now from where she sat against the far wall, one leg drawn up lazily, chin resting on her knee.

And she watched you differently than before.

It wasn’t amusement in her eyes. It wasn’t teasing.

It was concern.

You were on the verse again—three steps, turn, drop—repeating the same section you’d nailed hours ago. But your jaw was tight now. Your movements weren’t sloppy, but they were tired. And the more they slipped, the more frustrated you looked.

Chaewon stood up slowly.

“Y/N,” she said, her voice cutting through the music.

You didn’t stop.

“Y/N.”

You turned finally, breath a little heavier than you wanted her to see. “What?”

“You’ve been repeating the same section for forty-five minutes.”

You looked away, wiping your palm on your pants. “It wasn’t clean.”

“It was clean enough twenty minutes ago,” she replied, walking toward you. Her tone wasn’t sharp. Just… steady. “You haven’t had water. Or food. You’re going to burn out.”

“I’m fine.”

“No, you’re obsessed,” she said plainly. “There’s a difference.”

You stiffened.

She stopped in front of you, arms crossed. “Do you always treat yourself like this, or is it just with us?”

You blinked at her. That hit deeper than it should have. You didn’t know what answer she was expecting—so you said nothing.

Chaewon sighed. “They’ll bring food back. They already know what you want.”

“I didn’t ask for—”

“You never do,” she cut in. “But they remember. So do I.”

That made you pause.

You looked up at her, and for a second, she looked away—like maybe she hadn’t meant to say that part. But it was too late. You saw it. The shift.

“You should sit down,” she added after a beat, voice quieter now.

You hesitated, still stuck in that tense, practiced posture. Muscles coiled like they didn’t know how to rest.

Chaewon stepped forward and, to your shock, reached out to gently tug your wrist. Not rough. Not demanding. Just enough.

“Sit,” she repeated, firmer this time.

You let her lead you to the floor, lowering yourself onto the wooden boards with a breath you hadn’t realized you were holding. You felt dizzy all of a sudden. Not from her touch—well, maybe partly—but mostly from the way the exhaustion hit all at once now that you’d let yourself stop.

Chaewon sat down beside you, just close enough for your knees to almost brush.

“Do you do this because you want to be better?” she asked, glancing over at you. “Or because you think you’re not already good enough?”

You stared ahead.

“I don’t know.”

She didn’t say anything to that. Just leaned back on her hands and let the silence settle between you.

But she didn’t leave.

And that meant more than any compliment ever could.

_____

The floor was cool beneath you, a subtle relief against your overheated skin. Your head buzzed faintly from overwork, the edges of your thoughts softened by fatigue. You sat in silence beside Chaewon, your breathing slowly starting to even out again.

Neither of you spoke.

The room, normally loud with music and movement, had quieted into something gentler. The soft hum of the air conditioning was the only sound now, a steady backdrop to the steady thud of your pulse finally slowing.

Your shoulder brushed hers once, lightly.

You didn’t pull away.

You didn’t even notice when your head began to tilt slightly, just a bit too far to the side. Sleep had a way of creeping in like that when you weren’t looking. A slow unraveling. You blinked once, then twice—too long between.

And then your head slipped.

It landed softly on her shoulder.

Chaewon stiffened for half a second—just a half—and then looked down at you with quiet disbelief. Your expression was calm now, lips parted slightly, lashes brushing your cheek. Completely unaware. Vulnerable, in a way she’d never seen you before.

She stayed still.

Then—without saying anything, without teasing or shifting away—she gently reached up with her hand and adjusted the back of your ponytail, tucking a loose strand behind your ear. Then her arm moved behind you, resting lightly along your back.

Her fingers barely touched your side.

Just enough to keep you close.

Your breathing deepened.

Chaewon glanced at the mirror across the room, seeing the reflection of herself holding you, your figure curled slightly into her side like it had always belonged there. Her chest felt oddly warm. Like something had opened that she hadn’t realized was locked.

She didn’t speak.

Didn’t tease.

Didn’t move.

Because for once… you looked peaceful.

And she didn’t want to be the one to take that away.

The door clicked open softly.

Chaewon’s eyes darted up immediately—not out of guilt, but instinct. Her arm was still loosely around you, your head nestled against her shoulder, your breathing steady and even. You hadn’t moved. Still completely asleep, exhaustion finally taking what it had wanted all along.

Yunjin stepped in first, holding a takeout bag in each hand. Her voice was halfway through a comment—something loud, probably teasing—until she saw the two of you and froze.

“Oh…”

Sakura stepped in right behind her, eyebrows raised as she peeked over Yunjin’s shoulder. When she followed her line of sight, her lips curled into a slow smile.

“Oh.”

Eunchae was next, nearly bumping into them both.

“Why’d you guys—” She stopped too. “Oh my god.”

Kazuha appeared last, looking confused—until she saw the scene in the center of the practice room.

You, asleep. Chaewon, still. One arm curled gently around your side, her hand resting just under the hem of your top where your warm skin met fabric. Her head tilted slightly, gaze focused downward—not on them. On you.

She didn’t say a word.

Didn’t flinch.

“Shh,” Yunjin whispered dramatically, slowly tiptoeing into the room. “Our ice queen’s having a moment.”

“She’s cuddling,” Sakura whispered, eyes wide with amusement.

“Should we take a picture?” Eunchae asked, already reaching for her phone.

“You do that, and you’re dancing blindfolded tomorrow,” Chaewon said softly, her voice low but firm—not sharp. Protective.

They all snickered but backed off, placing the food bags quietly on the low table near the wall. Chaewon’s tone may have been soft, but they knew better than to test her right now.

Not when she was holding you like that.

Kazuha leaned over to whisper to Yunjin, “I thought she hated the bratty cold act.”

“She doesn’t hate it,” Yunjin whispered back. “She wants to fix it. Difference.”

Chaewon didn’t respond to that, but her hand did tighten the smallest bit around you, like her body answered before her brain could.

You stirred slightly, a quiet breath pushing through your nose, but didn’t wake. Your fingers twitched in your lap, brushing lightly against her leg. She didn’t move.

The girls settled on the opposite side of the room, speaking in hushed voices now, stealing glances toward the pair of you like they’d stumbled on something sacred. Something they weren’t meant to see—but were secretly honored to witness.

Chaewon lowered her head a little, resting her cheek lightly against the top of yours.

“You really don’t know how to rest unless someone makes you,” she murmured softly, not even sure if she was talking to you or herself anymore.

You didn’t respond. But your body leaned in just slightly more.

She let it happen.

_____

The room had settled into a new rhythm.

Sakura and Yunjin sat cross-legged around the food spread, quietly opening containers and passing chopsticks back and forth. Eunchae munched happily while occasionally glancing over at you, still nestled against Chaewon like a secret no one was supposed to know. Kazuha just smiled to herself, not saying much—watching, but respectfully silent.

Chaewon hadn’t moved.

You were still tucked under her arm, face half-hidden against the curve of her neck, hair slightly messy, your body curled inward like it had instinctively found the safest place in the room.

She didn’t seem to mind the inconvenience.

In fact, when Yunjin called softly, “Chaewon, your order’s here,” she barely glanced up.

“Can you… bring hers too?” she asked, her voice quiet but deliberate.

Yunjin blinked. “Yours and…?”

Chaewon gave her a look. Not annoyed. Just firm.

Yunjin grinned.

“Right. Got it.” She padded over gently with the two boxes, setting them down beside Chaewon without a word. Just a cheeky little salute and a wink as she backed away.

Chaewon rolled her eyes and muttered, “You’re not funny.”

“Liar,” Yunjin whispered smugly.

With careful movements, Chaewon reached for the utensils, holding the box steady with one hand. She shifted slightly, balancing everything with practiced calm while keeping her arm around you the entire time. Eating one-handed wasn’t easy—but it was doable. And worth it.

Because you didn’t stir.

And more importantly… you didn’t pull away.

Every now and then, she’d glance down to check if your breathing had changed, if your body had tensed. But no. You were still out, eyelids fluttering slightly in a light doze, lips parted with soft, even breaths.

She brought a bite of rice to her mouth, slow and precise, not even noticing the way Eunchae kept side-eyeing her like she was watching some rare animal do something completely out of character.

“She’s feeding herself one-handed,” Eunchae whispered, half in awe.

“She hasn’t moved in twenty minutes,” Sakura whispered back.

“She’s cuddling and eating,” Yunjin added, suppressing laughter. “This is love. This is war. This is—”

“Keep narrating and I’ll end you,” Chaewon said flatly, not even looking at them.

They shut up instantly, muffling their giggles behind bites of food.

The thing was… none of them had ever seen Chaewon like this. She was protective, sure. Calm and focused, absolutely. But soft? Not like this.

Not one-handed, not protective in the small, intimate way of making sure you stayed asleep. Of asking for your food. Of making sure you’d be fed even if you didn’t ask for it. Even if you never would.

Another bite. Another quiet glance downward.

She couldn’t explain it—not to them, not even to herself.

But the way you leaned into her like you trusted her completely, even in sleep—it made something in her chest ache and swell at the same time.

And she didn’t want it to end.

Chaewon had barely touched half her food.

Every few seconds, she’d glance down at you again—your cheek pressed gently against her collarbone, breath warm against the fabric of her shirt. You shifted once, murmured something under your breath, and then settled right back into her.

She let out a soft sigh through her nose.

She didn’t want to move you. Not even a little.

But you hadn’t eaten. You’d overworked yourself. And as much as she wanted to stay frozen in this quiet moment forever, she wouldn’t let you burn out. Not on her watch.

Reluctantly, she leaned her head slightly, brushing her cheek against your temple.

“Y/N,” she said, low and soft, almost a whisper. “Wake up.”

You mumbled something. Not a word—more like a sigh with vowels.

Chaewon tried again, brushing a hand lightly over your side. “Hey… come on. Food’s here. You need to eat.”

You stirred, just barely, your eyebrows drawing together in a small squint. Your eyes opened a sliver—blurry, unfocused—and your body curled closer into her automatically.

Sakura, mid-bite across the room, actually dropped her chopsticks.

“Oh my god,” she whispered.

Eunchae stared. “Wait. That’s what she looks like waking up?”

“She’s like—” Yunjin lowered her voice, eyes wide. “A sleepy baby cat.”

You made a small noise, somewhere between a sigh and a whimper, and buried your face further into Chaewon’s neck.

“She’s still asleep,” Kazuha whispered with a smile.

Chaewon just blinked slowly, her heart doing something unfamiliar in her chest. You looked so different like this—no guard, no cold walls, no practiced expression. Just soft, warm sleepiness.

She tried again, a little more coaxing this time. “Y/N… food. Come on.”

You slowly blinked up at her, your lashes heavy, eyes cloudy with that thick kind of exhaustion that clung for thirty minutes too long. “Hm?”

“You need to eat,” she said gently.

You barely processed it, just shifting again, your arms wrapping loosely around her waist before you pressed your forehead lightly against her collarbone.

Chaewon froze.

Yunjin’s mouth dropped open.

“She’s cuddling her. That’s intentional cuddling.”

“She doesn’t even like hugs,” Sakura whispered.

“She’s not awake,” Chaewon murmured back, flustered now. “She does this when she’s not fully up yet. I think.”

“You think?” Eunchae said, trying not to laugh.

You let out a little breath—half-exhale, half-hum. “M’tired.”

Chaewon shifted the food box onto her lap and carefully picked up the chopsticks again, her voice dipping into something almost maternal without her realizing. “I know. But you need to eat first, okay? Just a few bites.”

She brought the first piece to your lips.

You blinked at it like you were trying to understand what it was, then opened your mouth slowly.

Yunjin looked like she was about to burst.

“She’s being fed.”

“She’s letting someone feed her,” Sakura added. “This is… this is history.”

You chewed slowly, leaning a bit heavier against Chaewon with every second, like gravity was pulling you closer to her warmth.

Chaewon was hyper-aware of every inch of contact now—your cheek against her collarbone, your arm around her middle, the way you kept rubbing your forehead into her shirt like a cat. Your sleepiness had turned you into something quiet and sweet, and she didn’t know how to process it.

“Just a few more, okay?” she said, bringing another bite up.

You nodded, eyes still mostly shut.

And she fed you. Patiently. Carefully. Like it was normal. Like she’d always done it.

Because maybe now… she wanted to.

The room was quiet again, save for the soft sounds of you eating and Chaewon’s gentle voice coaxing you to keep going. She kept her arm around you, holding you close as you rested against her, the rhythm of your breathing still slow and lazy.

Chaewon’s hand had become automatic—reaching for each bite, bringing it to your lips with gentle care. She couldn’t help the soft smile that tugged at the corner of her mouth as you accepted the food without protest, your sleepy eyes still half-lidded as if the world outside didn’t exist.

The others watched in silence, occasionally exchanging amused glances.

Yunjin was the first to speak up, her voice teasing but soft. “Chaewon, you’re doing a really good job at this.”

Chaewon looked up briefly, her cheeks flushing slightly. “Shut up,” she muttered, not wanting to admit how right Yunjin was. “She won’t wake up enough to feed herself.”

Sakura chuckled. “I’m starting to think this is some sort of… bonding moment.”

“She’s so clingy when she wakes up,” Eunchae added, leaning back on the couch. “I didn’t know Y/N was like this.”

Kazuha, who had been quiet up until now, smiled softly. “She’s adorable when she’s like this.”

Chaewon glanced down at you, her heart still tender from the quiet vulnerability you’d shown. You were so different now—so far removed from the cold, distant persona you’d put on every other day.

And for the first time in a long time, Chaewon felt a warmth she couldn’t quite explain.

As you chewed slowly, still half-asleep, Yunjin’s mischievous grin spread across her face.

“Hey, Chaewon,” she said quietly, looking over at the water bottle on the table. “Do you think Y/N would take water from me?”

Chaewon paused, looking up in surprise. “What? Are you serious?”

“Oh yeah,” Yunjin whispered, “she’s probably too sleepy to care who feeds her.”

Chaewon’s lips pressed together, unsure of how to feel about the idea. She didn’t want to share this moment. But then, she realized… you were too far gone in your sleepy state to notice. Besides, Yunjin wasn’t trying to steal your attention away from her. It was just harmless fun.

“Fine,” Chaewon said with a soft sigh. “But you better not wake her up too much.”

Yunjin snuck up behind her, grabbing the water bottle with exaggerated stealth, and gently unscrewed the cap. She moved carefully, making sure to keep her distance so she didn’t disturb your comfortable position.

“Hey, Y/N,” Yunjin whispered softly, holding the water bottle near your lips. “Drink a little bit. You need water too.”

You blinked slowly, your lips parting a little bit as you felt the cool pressure of the bottle near your mouth. You weren’t fully awake, but the sensation was enough to make you lazily take a sip.

Chaewon watched this silently, her eyes narrowing slightly. She didn’t like seeing anyone else have this level of closeness with you—especially while you were so vulnerable, so soft. She had just gotten this close to you, and she wasn’t ready to share it yet.

But when she saw the faint smile on your lips as you drank the water and then snuggled back into her, her heart softened again.

“See?” Yunjin whispered, now sitting back down and grinning. “She’ll take it from anyone, if it’s food or water.”

Chaewon rolled her eyes, not responding but unable to hide the soft smirk on her face. She looked down at you again, brushing some hair from your face as you settled more deeply against her.

“Don’t get too used to it,” she muttered under her breath, but the playfulness in her voice betrayed her words.

Yunjin leaned back, smirking at the quiet interaction. The others, watching from the couch, exchanged knowing glances.

It was quiet for a moment as the two of you sat there, Chaewon feeding you small bites, not wanting to disturb the peaceful moment. There was something almost… sacred in the stillness. You were so fragile in this state, and Chaewon had never seen you like this before.

She didn’t want to disturb the balance she had right now. Not for anything.

_____

You woke slowly.

The fuzziness from sleep lingered like a cloud around your mind, but you were finally aware enough to notice the warm weight of Chaewon’s arm still around you. Your head was still resting against her shoulder, and you felt a gentle, comforting pressure as she carefully shifted a little, adjusting to make you more comfortable. You stretched a little, blinking against the dim light of the room.

Your surroundings came into focus, and it took you a moment to register what had happened. The others were scattered across the room, chatting and laughing quietly, while the remnants of takeout boxes and water bottles sat on the low table nearby. It wasn’t until you saw the empty food boxes and the lingering warmth in Chaewon’s gaze that you realized you must’ve fallen asleep.

You shifted a little, pulling back, but not quite enough to fully break contact with Chaewon. Her hand lingered on your side, reluctant to let go.

“Mm… what time is it?” you mumbled, your voice still thick with sleep, though you were more aware now.

“Just woke up, huh?” Yunjin’s teasing voice rang out from across the room. She was lounging on the couch with a wide grin, looking at you knowingly. “Don’t worry, we’ve all been watching you.”

Your heart skipped a beat, and you blinked at her in confusion. You hadn’t expected the attention.

“Watched me?” you mumbled, rubbing your eyes and trying to get your bearings. You hadn’t expected to be the center of attention after waking up. Then, your gaze flicked to Chaewon, who was looking at you with a mix of affection and something else you couldn’t quite read.

“Oh yeah,” Yunjin continued, her voice way too amused. “You were so clingy when you woke up, Y/N. Like a little kitten.” She emphasized the last word with an exaggerated purr, causing the others to snicker.

Chaewon’s face flushed lightly, and she rolled her eyes. “Shut up, Yunjin. She was just tired.” But her tone couldn’t hide the softness beneath her words, a quiet protectiveness that made you feel warm despite the teasing.

You sat up straighter, now fully aware of the situation. Your cheeks flushed with embarrassment as you tried to collect yourself. “I wasn’t clingy,” you muttered, though you knew the others saw through it. You’d always been so self-conscious about moments like these, when you weren’t the cool, collected version of yourself. And now, to find out they’d seen you in this state… you couldn’t help the embarrassed heat rising in your face.

“Yeah, you were,” Eunchae chimed in, sitting cross-legged on the floor, grinning. “You were practically napping on Chaewon the whole time. And you even let her feed you.”

Your face turned a deeper shade of red at the reminder, your mind trying to recall the soft moments of earlier—Chaewon gently feeding you, keeping you close, and you, too out of it to protest. But you quickly pushed it away, not wanting to face the fact that you had let her take care of you like that. The real you wasn’t supposed to let down your guard.

“You really didn’t notice?” Sakura asked, the hint of teasing in her voice. “You were, like, half asleep and almost babying Chaewon. You let her hold you, feed you… It was like you forgot how to be ‘cold.’”

You shifted uncomfortably, avoiding eye contact. “I was tired, okay?” you muttered, hoping they’d just drop it. “It’s not a big deal.”

Yunjin leaned forward with a mischievous glint in her eyes. “Oh, it’s not a big deal? Then why do you look so flustered now?”

“Yunjin,” Chaewon warned quietly, but you could see the slight smile tugging at the corners of her lips.

You buried your face in your hands for a second, completely mortified. “Can we just drop it?” you groaned.

But of course, the teasing didn’t stop there.

“You know, I didn’t think you’d ever let anyone feed you,” Kazuha said, her voice light and amused. “But you were all calm and peaceful when Chaewon did it. Aww, is it because she’s your favorite?”

Your gaze shot up to meet Kazuha’s teasing smile, and you blinked rapidly, trying to recover your composure. “I—I wasn’t—” you stammered, but it wasn’t like you had a way to argue it.

Chaewon’s face had softened again, though she kept her attention on the others. You could tell she was trying not to smile at your discomfort. “You guys should really let her wake up first before you start making assumptions,” she said with an exaggerated sigh. But even though she was defending you, the way she glanced at you made your heart skip. It was different. Softer.

You crossed your arms over your chest, trying to hold onto some semblance of dignity. “This is so embarrassing.”

“Embarrassing?” Yunjin snorted. “No, it’s adorable.”

You shot her a glare, but it was half-hearted. You couldn’t stay mad at them for long—they were just having fun. It was a change from their usual teasing, and part of you secretly liked the attention, even if it made you feel a little flustered.

Chaewon looked over at you and smiled in that rare, gentle way, her eyes soft and warm. “You’re fine,” she said, her voice low and comforting. “You don’t have to pretend with us.”

You froze for a moment, her words lingering in the air. You weren’t sure if she meant it in a deeper sense, but it made your heart skip nonetheless.

“Yeah, Y/N,” Yunjin chimed in with a wink. “You’re only a little clingy. But we’ll let you off the hook this time.”

As you let out a reluctant laugh, the teasing slowly died down, though the gentle smiles and knowing glances remained. The others had already accepted this softer side of you, and somehow… that made it easier for you to accept, too.

[thedivineden]

Anatomy

pairing: Armin Arlert x reader ft. Eren Yeager

genre: smut

words: 1K

notes: collegeau!, nerdmin,

AN: This is only part one, if you want to be updated when parts are posted it’s best to keep up to date on wattpad!

They say that college is supposed to be the best experience of your life and boy they weren't wrong. I was dancing through the throng of people attempting to free myself, making my way to the kitchen.

I didn't know many people, I only came to TitanU because of the full ride they offered. Everyone is a fresh face for me but that doesn't deter me. I see my roommate Sasha in the kitchen, making a sandwich with a medium height guy rocking a shaved head.

I walk over to her and greet them both. I could see and hear how obviously drunk they both were but having a great time overall. Sasha throws her arms around me dramatically, "I have been looking for you EVERYWHERE! Where the hell have you been?"

I laugh at her and explained that I was dancing with some frat boys and came to the kitchen for a drink. I could see the guy Sasha is with eyeing me, I look at him and smile, introducing myself.

He smiles just as bright, introducing himself as Connie, then asking me if I wanted to "elevate the party" I look at him quizzically, wondering what he meant. Sasha eyes the both of us, nervously laughs and tells me to ignore Connie.

I stashed this interaction in the back of my head for later, reaching for the closest bottle to pour myself a drink. Right when I was going to grab it, I see someone reaching for it. "Oh, I'm sorry" I say, "You can pour it first." The blonde-haired guy only politely nodded, pouring himself a drink, then offering to pour mine.

I gladly accept, thanking him and walking off once my cup is full. Throughout the party, I was by myself, mingling with whoever talked to me first and dancing with Sasha whenever she didn't disappear. After my fourth drink, I decided to sit down and calm myself down.

I leaned my head back on the couch, letting the bass from the music vertebrate through my body, and my eyes close. It had only been five minutes then I heard "Hey, you okay?" in my ear. I sit up immediately, coming face to face with a brown-haired boy wearing a worried expression on his face.

Damn he's fine.

I nod my head and sit up, leaning back onto the couch more to put space between us two. I could hear Sasha coming through the crown of college students with water for me. "Here! You need to drink think; you were starting to look dead on the couch!" The guy takes the water bottle from Sasha, taking the cap off and handing it to me.

I take the water from him, thanking both of them and taking a couple of sips. I was uncomfortable with them hovering over me and decided to stand up and introduce myself. "Damn Eren, you didn't have to snatch the water bottle, I was going to give it to her." Sasha says.

Eren is his name. Interesting.

He rolls his eyes and introduces himself regardless of Sasha's outburst. I eye him up and down, taking note of his muscular build and striking green eyes. I was practically groping him with my eyes.

I attempted to engage in light conversation with both of them while I recovered, learning that him and Sasha have been friends since they were teenagers, apparently their entire friend group are students at TitanU, varying different majors.

Eren is a political science major and Sasha majors in culinary arts. The more we talk, the closer me and Eren lean into each other. I could get lost for hours, listening to him. Sasha picked up on the tension, announced she needs more alcohol in her system and told us to not have too much fun.

I laughed at her lack of discretion as she winked at me. I turned my attention back to Eren whose eyes were glued to me. "Like what you see?" I say, he raises his eyebrow and smirks "Maybe I do, what's wrong with that?"

Oh, this is going to be fun.

I smiled at him saying "Nothing wrong with it, it's better to act than stare though." I walk away from him knowing guys like him are clearly all about the chase. I make my way outside and spot Sasha getting ready to jump in the pool. I run over to her, just before she jumps in the blonde-haired guy, I saw earlier whispers something to her.

I could see a slight hint of resolve in her eyes before she backs away from the pool earning "awws" and "boos" from those cheering and egging her on. I walk over to her, connie, and the blonde hair boy, Sasha and connie were too engrossed in whatever party trick they wanted to complete next.

I roll my eyes at their antics laughing, looking at the quiet blondie, asking what he said to Sasha to get her to back down. He looked at me for a moment, I could see a violent blush on his face as he matter-of-factly stated what he told Sasha and how her decision would only lead to social unrest.

I stared at him for a moment, dumbfounded by his seriousness and started laughing. His eyebrow raised at my sudden burst but eventually started laughing with me awkwardly. He introduces himself as Armin, a freshman majoring in anatomy and physiology.

The conversation with Armin flows so well, he's very attentive, asking me questions about my major, life before TitanU, if I liked it here so far. Every answer I had for him was met with another question, as if he was trying to dissect me and my life. Unlike Eren's intense gaze, Armin's is inquisitive and shows a hint of allure.

I would say he's attractive, his thick framed glasses only enlarged his bright blue eyes which mesmerized me. It only felt right to give him my undivided attention as he was doing the same. Armin shuffled closer to me and asked if I was struggling with any classes and how he could help.

I wasn't struggling with any of my studies, but I knew what he was hinting at. I chose to play along, "I have been struggling in my statistics class, that would be great, thank you Armin." I suggest exchanging numbers.

As I passed Armin my phone, Eren came, swinging an arm around Armin's shoulders looking at the phone in his hands. "When did you get that case Armin, not really your style." he says laughing. Armin scoffs playfully, shrugging Eren off. "It's not mine" Armin says, handing my phone back to me.

I could see he placed his full name in my phone with a cute controller emoji. "Is there something wrong with my case Eren?" I say playfully. He shook his head and laughed, "No, it makes sense that it's yours. I'm going to borrow Armin, as long as you two are done?"

Eren glanes between us both, noticing the blush on Armin's face and recalling the phone exchange. They both stalk off with each other seemingly in a hushed conversation. Only Armin looked back at me and put his hand up, whether that be as a sorry or see you later, I was interested.

[bettelaboure]

⊹Between the Spotlight and Shadows ⊹| Choi Seung - Hyun

⊹ Pairing: Choi Seung-Hyun x Reader ⊹ Warnings: past negative sexual experiences, slow burn / sexual tension ⊹ Word count: 1.2 k ⊹ Author's note: I wish my work were as fun as writing fanfics. I'm head over heels... My partner probably is not happy..

⊹ ⊹ ⊹ ⊹ ⊹ ⊹ ⊹ ⊹ ⊹ ⊹ ⊹ ⊹ ⊹ ⊹ ⊹ ⊹ ⊹ ⊹ ⊹ ⊹ ⊹ ⊹ ⊹ ⊹

The rhythmic thrum of the bass echoes in your chest, the heat of the stage lights sinking into your skin as you move in perfect sync with the music. Seung-Hyun’s voice pours through the speakers, velvety smooth yet electrifying, sending the crowd into an ecstatic frenzy. You match his energy, your body swaying, turning, spinning with the practiced ease of someone who has lived in the choreography for months. It’s second nature now—just like him.

You and Seung-Hyun weren’t always like this. The first time you trained together, there was a shy awkwardness that neither of you could shake. You, the new dancer in his world of flashing cameras and relentless schedules, and him, the enigmatic singer with a quiet intensity that made him both intimidating and intriguing. But long hours of sweat-drenched rehearsals, late-night conversations over instant ramen, and whispered confessions in the dark hotel corridors had broken down the walls between you. Now, he’s one of the people who knows you best.

And that’s the problem, isn’t it?

Because Seung-Hyun knows all your secrets—the silly ones, like how you still sleep with a nightlight when you’re alone, and the heavier ones, like why you never let yourself get too close to anyone. He knows about your first time—how disappointing it was, how it left you cold and wondering what the fuss was about. He knows how every experience after that only solidified your belief that sex is overrated, a mechanical act that never quite lived up to the passion people swore it held. He knows, and it bothers him.

“Don’t you ever want more?” he had asked you once, voice low and contemplative as you both sat on the hotel balcony, staring at the foreign city lights below.

“Not really,” you had shrugged, taking a slow sip of your drink. “It’s just… never been that great for me. It’s fine, but it’s not like what people say it is.”

He had gone quiet after that, something flickering in his dark eyes. You hadn’t thought much of it at the time, but you should have known that Seung-Hyun isn’t the type to let things go so easily.

After the performance, backstage is a haze of adrenaline and exhaustion. The rest of the crew is celebrating, some cracking open drinks, others already scrolling through social media to see the fans' reactions. You slip into the dressing room, closing the door behind you with a sigh, rolling out the tension in your shoulders. The door clicks again, and when you glance in the mirror, Seung-Hyun is leaning against the frame, arms crossed, eyes locked onto you.

“You were amazing out there,” he says, stepping closer.

You smile, used to his compliments but never tired of them. “You weren’t so bad yourself, superstar.”

His lips twitch, but his gaze remains serious as he moves to stand behind you. His presence is warm, familiar, but tonight, there’s something else there—something heavier. He reaches out, fingertips ghosting over your bare shoulder, his voice dropping just above a whisper.

“I want to show you something.”

You swallow, unsure of why your heartbeat has suddenly picked up. “Show me what?”

His reflection meets yours in the mirror, and there’s a quiet intensity in his expression that makes the air between you shift. “That it can be different,” he murmurs. “That it can feel good.”

Your breath catches, heat curling low in your stomach. Seung-Hyun has always been gentle with you, careful in a way that made you feel safe. But this? This is something new. Something that makes your skin prickle with anticipation.

“You trust me, don’t you?” he asks, his fingers skimming down your arm, slow and deliberate.

You do. You always have. And maybe, just maybe, it’s time to let him prove you wrong.

The room is quiet except for the sound of your breathing, slightly uneven as he studies you.

“You tense up just thinking about it,” he notes softly. “Why?”

You hesitate before answering, your fingers gripping the edge of the vanity table. “Because it’s never been... good. I mean, it just feels like something to get over with. Like checking off a list.”

He exhales sharply through his nose. “That’s not how it’s supposed to be.”

“Maybe for you,” you say, trying for humor, but it falls flat.

His fingers trail from your arm down to your wrist, coaxing you to turn and face him fully.

“No,” he says, voice firm but not unkind. “For everyone. If it’s not, then someone wasn’t paying attention.”

You let out a breath, shaking your head.

“I don’t know, Seung-Hyun. Maybe I’m just… not built for that kind of pleasure.”

He lets out a low chuckle, but there’s no humor in it. “That’s bullshit.”

Your eyes widen slightly at his bluntness, but he doesn’t back down. Instead, he leans in just a fraction, his gaze never leaving yours. “You think I don’t notice the way you react to touch?”

"The way you shy away, but your body—” His fingers ghost along your collarbone, barely there, but it makes you shiver. “—tells me something different?”

You swallow hard, lips parting, but nothing comes out.

“Pleasure isn’t just about the act,” he continues, his voice low and careful. “It’s about trust. It’s about feeling safe enough to let go.”

You close your eyes for a second, trying to steady yourself. “And you think you can… change that?”

“I know I can,” he says without hesitation. “But only if you let me.”

You want to laugh, want to brush it off as another one of his teasing remarks, but the way he’s looking at you tells you he’s completely serious.

The idea of letting him prove it terrifies you. But beneath that fear, there’s something else. Something warm, something curious.

“Seung-Hyun…” you whisper, unsure of what you’re asking.

He steps closer, his warmth surrounding you, but he doesn’t push. “Just say the word,” he murmurs, his lips barely a breath away from your skin. “And I’ll show you.”

Your heartbeat pounds in your ears. This is new. This is dangerous.

But with Seung-Hyun, maybe it’s worth the risk.

His lips brush against yours, tentative at first, testing. A slow exhale escapes you as he deepens the kiss, his hands sliding along your waist, pulling you closer. Heat pools low in your stomach as his fingers trace up your spine, sending a delicious shiver through you.

He moves carefully, pressing you against the vanity, his mouth teasing and coaxing, never demanding.

His lips part from yours just enough to murmur, “See? It’s not about rushing.”

You nod breathlessly as his hands skim under the hem of your top, fingertips grazing your skin, igniting something deep and unfamiliar. His mouth trails down your jaw, lingering at the sensitive spot below your ear, making your breath hitch.

“Just let go,” he whispers, his voice like silk, warm and reassuring.

And this time, you do.

sequel “No going back”

[hopelessmidwesterner]

The Groupie

Eddie Munson x Rockstar Reader

swearing, fluff, angst, themes of anxiety, mentions of groupies with a negative connotation, slight sexism, a few uses of y/n, strangers to lovers (sorta), a few mentions of rock bands/songs (Metallica, Dio, Type O Negative, etc.) takes place AFTER season 4 (1991 ish) so Eddie and reader are around 24/25

3.3k words

Corroded Coffin has been hired to open for a local rock band at Outlaw Theatre, a venue with a Midas Touch for all of its performers. Whilst there, he meets you, the coolest person he's ever met. Unfortunately for him, his tendency to speak before thinking intervenes.

Cover art via rogue_alien on Instagram!

Ever since he could remember, Eddie Munson had been labeled as an idiot. The kind that would never amount to much more than dealing drugs and living in his rundown, close minded town until he saw the grave. Those closest to Eddie knew he wasn’t actually stupid. He had his moments, sure. Like the time at practice when he confidently insisted that he could play bass since Gareth broke his hand since it was “the same as guitar just with less strings” only to be humbled in front of everyone. Or all the times he flunked Biology, Algebra, English, and even P.E. Or the several occasions he tripped over his own clumsy feet in front of super pretty girls. He could be a dunce, sure, but he wasn’t the tried and true moron like everyone in Hawkins framed him to be. 

Right now, however, he sure did feel like maybe there was some truth to that notion. 

To backtrack: after the whole Vecna/near-apocalypse/saving the world/almost dying like twelve times thing, he’d managed to get his shit together and graduate by that May even if everyone in town was still convinced that he was a murderer. In turn, Corroded Coffin sort of blew up by the time Fall came around. At least, locally. They went from playing The Hideout to real venues with actual backstage areas and sound guys that weren’t drinking on the clock. Was it enough to make a living? Absolutely not but it was a fun side gig that was helping him get through life, which had mostly consisted of odd jobs while he saved his money to not only move out of Indiana but to also go to art school. Never in his life did he think he’d be the one who actually wanted to go back to school for a degree but so much had changed and now it was setting in that life after Hawkins, life after grief, did in fact exist. 

Tonight, Corroded Coffin had a milestone show at a venue just a couple towns over called Outlaw Theatre. The place had a Midas Touch so to speak: several bands that graced the stage there had gone on to win awards, to make millions, and to change music itself. He wasn’t sure if Corroded Coffin was destined for that greatness but it was exciting to experience and even more exciting when he met you backstage.

He never learned your name but it was at the top of his to-do list after a brief though life-altering encounter. You weren’t from Hawkins because if you were he’d surely remember someone as breathtakingly awesome as you. You were effortlessly cool from the scuffed motorcycle boots on your feet to the array of wacky, multicolored rings decorating your fingers. You even had one of those cool piercings that people in the magazines and on television labelled as a surefire sign of supposed evil much like metal music and D&D. A septum, if his memory served him right. 

He hadn’t been able to get you out of his head ever since and now as he lingered in the back of house at the bar after a quick changing of clothes, the headlining band kicking off with a darkened cover of Heartbreaker, he swore he felt his jaw hitting the floor. No, at this rate, his jaw was pushing past the floor and down towards the depths of Hell. Auburn colored eyes wide and face slacked into an expression that said “Holy shit. I am the idiot of all idiots. King fucking idiot.”, his mind raced to your interaction from earlier. That one, five minute (if that) interaction that was now the epicenter of his stupidity. 

☆☆☆☆☆

He’d simply been walking around backstage with Jeff, trying to get a feel for the place when your voice came in out of nowhere. 

“Have you heard of that new band from Brooklyn?” 

You were standing in the doorway of the headlining band’s green room, gripping a shiny can of hairspray while Ryder, the band’s keyboardist, sat in the chair in front of you. You were teasing his hair in preparation for tonight, eyes focused while you listened to his snarky reply. 

“What one? Brooklyn is huge, ya know.” 

“Type O Negative. It’s like goth meets metal.” 

“Never heard of ‘em. How did you even–” 

“You know Type O Negative?” 

Eddie hadn’t really meant to interrupt but it sort of just came tumbling out, piercing through the semi tense air of the hallway. You’d perked up, a shy smile flowering onto your face. 

“Hell yeah, I do. You a fan?”

“Y…yeah. It’s usually not my type of metal but they’ve just got something…indescribable, I guess.” 

He tried to maintain his cool even though Eddie Munson was the furthest thing from nonchalant in any case let alone this one. You’d dipped your head in half agreement, half understanding. 

“Yeah. I heard on MTV that there’s rumors of a tour outside New York. Hopefully, they come here.” 

“No way, really? That would be sick.” 

“That’s what the people are saying. But who knows, MTV is just another corporation at the end of the day so they could’ve lied for more attention.” 

God, you were incredible. Pretty, into metal music, and slightly anarchist? He could faint with a big ol’ grin on his face, he thought. 

“Ugh, yep. Remember when Melody Maker lied about the Black Sabbath reunion a few years ago for publicity? I was so pissed.”

“Yes! I literally asked for more hours at work for that in case they’d go on tour! So annoying.” 

“Right! Uh, I’m Eddie, by the way. This is Jeff, we play for–” 

“Corroded Coffin! Right? Or are you guys with uh…who’s the other one?” 

“Bullet Proof Vest.” Ryder cut in, making a face as you continued to tug and tease at his lucious, blonde locks. 

“Yes, them. Bullet Proof Vest. Sorry, bad with names.” 

“Don’t sweat it…We’re with Corroded Coffin, though, yeah.”

“Sick! We’ve got an old demo tape from a few years ago of yours in the van, it gets played all the time.” Ryder replied, amped as ever. He was antsy to get out of this chair despite your constant scoldings about if he sat still, it would be over with sooner. Rockstars rarely listened.

“Really? Thanks, man. We’re flattered…Have you guys ever played here before?” 

“Once before! This is our first time headlining, though. Kinda exciting. You’ve heard the theory, haven’t you?”

“Place has got a Midas Touch, mhm.” 

“Yep. Let’s hope if not both of us then one of us meets that fate, hmm?” 

“Yeah, for real. Oh, and uh–” 

Before he could even try to swivel the conversation to somehow include you again, a walkie talkie from somewhere behind you buzzed and crackled unintelligibly. Well, it’d sounded unintelligible but you evidently understood what they were saying because you picked it up and pressed the button on the side. 

“Go ahead.” 

“...photographer…front entrance…press badge…list…” 

You sighed and set the hairspray down, leaving Ryder with half-teased hair that looked utterly ridiculous. Well, more ridiculous than it was supposed to look. After thinking for a moment, you pressed the button again to reply. 

“Be there in 2. Can I get Celia from the merch booth to the green room please?” 

…no problem…” 

You smiled and nodded to yourself, stepping around Ryder with a quick exhale of stressed excitement. 

“Ry, have Celia finish your hair when she gets here. I gotta deal with that lady from the newspaper who’s comin’ to take pictures tonight.” 

“Aye aye, captain.” 

You rolled your eyes and paused to glance back at Eddie and Jeff. Jeff was his normal, calmed self whereas Eddie looked utterly gutted like a kicked puppy that you were leaving. If you noticed, you didn’t show it.

“Oh, uh…Eddie, Jeff. It was nice meeting you, I’ll see you later, probably at load out?”

“Yeah. Sure thing! Hey, are you like a jack of all trades for these guys? Cuz we’ve been lookin’ for some roadies and stuff.” 

He gestured towards Ryder, who was already talking about something unrelated with Jeff, while you just furrowed your brows out of confusion. You weren’t picking up what he was putting down and a pang of embarrassment sliced through him as he tried to explain himself. 

“Ya know…you do hair, you do assistant stuff, are you a groupie turned friend or somethin’?” 

“Oh, no. I–” 

You still looked puzzled but then the walkie crackled again and you groaned, holding it to your mouth again with one last frustrated huff. You walked away as you spoke until your voice disappeared in the maze of corridors, offices, storage rooms, and utility closets. Just like that, you were gone, but he knew he’d find you again before the night’s end. He had to. 

☆☆☆☆☆

Heat fueled by the flames of his own embarrassment flocked to Eddie’s cheeks as the moment replayed in his mind like a broken record. Great, he’d gone and deduced you to a fucking groupie of all things. There was nothing wrong with following a band around, of course, but he knew that in this business (the business being rock and metal music), women were already so mistreated and underrepresented.

He hadn’t quite caught wind of the fact that being labeled as a groupie was potentially harmful to girls; it’d been a genuine question, nothing born out of sexism or anything like that. His words were coming back to sink its teeth into his jugular now as he stared at you, though. You weren’t fixing anyone’s hair or running around doing assistant duties (whatever that meant) or even watching from the crowd. No, you were standing center-stage and shredding like a Hendrix-Hammett-Page reincarnate, head bent back with your face towards the sky as the crowd went nuts. 

He was royally fucked now. Not only had he grossly assumed a girl backstage was a groupie but he’d done it to the literal frontwoman of the headliner: the only reason Corroded Coffin even nailed this opportunity in the first place. He wanted nothing more than to turn back time or to vanish into thin air but he forced himself to stay there and watch the entire set. He didn’t cower and hide in the van out back, he didn’t try to ignore the loud music, nor did he make himself forget about his insane mistake. He stood in it like a man and boy, was he glad that he did.

Your band was impressive. And not just because you were cool and super hot. The music was eclectic: a cheeky mix of heavy rock, metal, and some softer styles that reminded Eddie of the old folk and country tunes Wayne would play at home. It was the type of sound and performance that made him wonder how he’d never heard of you guys before booking this gig. He even blew a decent chunk of his recent paycheck on a tape and a bandana with the band’s logo at the merch booth before the encore even came around and by the time you actually did finish up the night with a cover of In-A-Gadda-Da-Vida, he was no longer overwhelmed with guilt and remorse. No, he was now a man on a mission. The mission being redemption. 

☆☆☆☆☆

You’d barely had time to clear your head before the backstage erupted into the routinely hectic process that was load-out. Curfew wasn’t for another hour and a half but this venue liked to be efficient and ahead of schedule, hence the push for clearing all the equipment and merchandise out of the building as soon as possible. You were still coming down from the high of another show well done as you hauled varied equipment out towards the dock, listening to but not really engaging with your bandmates that talked like it was an olympic sport. You’d become a pro at tuning them out while not getting caught and it was working like a charm until you clunked the amp in your arms down into the backseat of your rusted Buick. You turned on your heel to collect the fleet of guitars and whatnot you still had to pack up just to nearly run into an all too familiar metalhead; Eddie. 

“Oh, shit. Sorry.” 

“Not your fault, mine. You guys need any help packing up? We got a head start and loaded most of our stuff earlier.” 

“Um…sure, why not? I’ve just got my guitars and pedalboard left but I’m sure they’ve got the kit and stuff to conquer still.” 

“Sweet. Lead the way, m’lady.” 

He gestured forward in the direction of the building and you granted him a meek nod, doing as he said so he wouldn’t see the clear flattery in your features. It was subtle but there: added pink in your nose and ears, sparkling eyes, and a smile that wouldn’t quit. It was like you were next to Lenny Kravitz, your all-time celebrity crush, with the way your heart pounded from friendly conversation with this guy. He was nice, had killer taste, even cooler hair, and to describe him as drop dead gorgeous would’ve been an understatement. You barely knew him, duh, but this was the first guy you’d met at a show that wasn’t a total piece of garbage so, yeah, maybe you were crushing a little too hard in a delusional way. So sue you!

“Oh, I also wanted to uh apologize…about earlier. For calling you a groupie, I mean.” 

Like a real life record-scratching moment, you jerked your head in his direction and stopped mid-stride just short of the back door. He’d called you a groupie? Fucking when? And more importantly, why?!

“Y…you did that?” 

“Yeah. Well, I assumed you were a groupie turned friend cuz you were doing Ryder’s hair and…doesn’t matter. Shit call by me, I’m kind of a moron sometimes…all the time.” 

“Oh…d…don’t worry about it. I didn’t even catch it so no harm no foul.” 

You took a moment to pause your speech then you kept walking again. You weren’t offended, being called a groupie was actually super kind in comparison to the things guys usually said about you around here. You weren’t the biggest fan of the word but something about Eddie was extremely authentic, refreshingly so, and you felt more respected than anything in some odd way. He meant what he said and had no problem speaking his mind even if it was for something like this; taking accountability. 

“Plus, we all have our moments of uh…unintelligence. I had like six fuck ups just tonight, it makes us human, right?” 

“Yeah. Sounds nicer when you put it that way. I didn’t notice any of your fuck ups, for the record. You guys killed that.” 

He spoke in a much softer manner than he had earlier. You weren’t sure if it was because it was just the two of you or if it was all in your head. Irregardless, it made you giddy. 

“Really? Good, that’s relieving. I psych myself out alot.”

“Don’t we all? I thought my B string was gonna snap clean off during our last song but it’s a trooper.” 

You tried to keep it in. You really, really did. You didn’t want this guy to know how much of an obnoxious nerd you were (yet) but some higher power (that’s who you blamed, anyway) skipped over your insecurity and before you knew it, you were humming The Trooper clear as day because of the simple reference that wasn’t actually a reference at all. By the time you realized, horror flooded all of your senses but then you glanced at him and you heard it. Your humming had some harmonies with it, harmonies coming from him as he hummed with equal contentedness.  

Fuck, you were going to be a puddle by the end of this. 

As load-out carried on and as the venue’s fans, security, ushers, and bartenders filtered out to go their own way, you never stopped talking to Eddie. Your bandmates were shocked to see you so buddy-buddy with a practical stranger and Eddie’s bandmates were shocked to see him not choking around a girl. Nobody commented on it or even dreamed of interrupting, however.

You both formed an invisible box around yourselves to discuss the show, guitars, your favorite DIO record, why you thought KISS was overrated, the new thrift store that had just opened nearby, and anything else that came to mind. You both matched one another’s chaotically mild flow, which made the hours feel like minutes. The two of you were in your own, sort of perfect world, but it came crashing down when Ryder’s annoying voice ripped apart your ongoing debate: Metallica vs Megadeth. 

“Dude, we gotta hit the road! Some of us have a shift in the morning.” 

He was impatiently sitting on the hood of your car, arms crossed and legs dangling like he was a cranky toddler. He sort of was a lot of the time. You groaned and regretted the agreement you’d made earlier to bring him home. Of course he could sleep with any and every girl who squealed over his stupid keyboard solos but the minute you talked to a guy, it became a roadblock. Asshole. 

“Duty calls, I guess. If he doesn’t get his beauty sleep, it’s armageddon for the whole band. Uh…it was nice meeting you and the guys, Eddie. Let us know if you have another gig or something comin’ up. We’d be happy to come show our support.”

Eddie was equally as bitter about the fact that your conversation was being brought to an abrupt end but he concealed it better, stuffing his hands into the pockets of his jacket in search of something. His heart thundered so loud that he wondered if you could hear it while he did so but he knew he’d only kick himself for eternity if he didn’t grow the balls to do this.

“Yeah, for sure! The same to you guys. And uh before you leave…”

You watched him pull a pick from his jacket. It was plain black, probably a Dunlop if you had to guess. With his tongue poked out of the corner of his mouth, he scribbled something on it with a silver-hued pen that had also been floating around in his jacket. He eventually capped the pen then blew on the pick to dry the ink, handing it to you carefully. 

“In case you wanna uh…continue our debate or something.” 

A phone number, his phone number, stared back up at you in slanted handwriting once you took it from him and you failed to fight the big ol’ grin that bloomed onto your face. Breathless, you nodded and gripped it between your thumb and index finger like it was worth all the money in the universe. 

“For sure. Thanks, Eddie. I’ll…I’ll call you.” 

“Lookin’ forward to it. Uh…I never caught your name.” 

“Y/N. Y/N Y/L/N.” 

“Y/N. Gotcha” 

He repeated it to test how it felt in his mouth. It rolled around his tongue, swam through his gums, and danced across every tooth like a ballerina. He liked how it felt. He liked it a whole lot. 

“Yeah. I’ll talk to you later, thanks for opening up tonight!” 

“Sure thing! And hey!” 

You paused at his sudden call right outside the driver’s side door, boots crunching in the gravel while Ryder pouted from the passenger’s seat since you’d finally unlocked the thing. An expression you couldn’t quite read, one that mixed joy with other things that were too subtle to understand, sat on his face as he cupped his hands around his loud mouth. 

“If that Type O tour turns out to be true, we’re going! Tickets are on me!” 

“Really?! I’ll hold you to it!”

“Oh, trust me! I’m counting on that!” 

[moonstruckme]

Hey!! I saw your posts about colour blind!reader and reader with hearing problems and i really love them, I have to wear hearing aids myself so it is really lovely to see some representation!! So I was wondering if you could do remus x reader (or any marauder i don't mind) where the readers hearing aids broke and remus has to help them communicate for the day while they wait to get them fixed? If you aren't comfortable with that don't worry<33

I'm so glad you liked them sweetness, thanks for requesting! Unfortunately I don't have anyone in my life who uses hearing aids that I could consult about this, so I had to rely on the internet and apologize for any inaccuracies <33

Remus Lupin x fem!reader ♡ 653 words

“Moony,” James says, cocking his head at you inside Remus’ car. You’re sitting placidly in the passenger seat while the car trembles with bass. “What’s she doing?”

“She likes the vibrations,” Remus replies, carrying a giant tupperware container of chili. Ever since he moved in with Lily, James has taken to “accidentally” making too much of nearly every meal they have so that his friends are forced to come over and take home leftovers. (“I thought the recipe was supposed to be tripled,” James had said over the phone. “You’ve gotta take some off my hands, Moony, it’s gonna go bad.”) 

“She’s gonna be shaking the whole block if she turns that up any louder,” Sirius says, following them out of the house. “How can she stand it?”

“Hearing aids broke yesterday,” Remus explains, opening the passenger door. James flinches at the sound that bursts out, and Remus hands you the chili before reaching around you to turn down the dial on the radio. “We’re waiting for the shop to call so we can pick them up,” he finishes. 

You wave at the boys, and they wave back with smiles somewhat bemused. 

“How bad is her hearing without them?” James asks concernedly. 

You go to respond, having read the question on his lips, but Remus sets a hand on your shoulder. 

Hold on, he signs to you. This will be more fun. 

You roll your eyes, but play along with his game, letting Remus speak for you as if you can’t do it yourself. 

“She can’t hear much of anything,” Remus says. It’s the honest truth, though he neglects to mention that you’re still perfectly capable of speaking and also quite skilled at reading lips even without the aids. “Some loud noises or things with a deep pitch, but not enough to make out speech.” 

“Huh,” James says. “Well, tell her I hope she enjoys the chili.” 

This is great, Remus signs to you. I never get to practice. 

You’re mean, you sign back, even as your lips twitch at the corners.

“She says she’s sure she will,” Remus says. “Thanks for saving us some.” 

James grins. “No problem.” 

“If she really likes vibrations, she should come take a ride on my bike sometime,” Sirius suggests, and he’s smiling, because he knows exactly how Remus will feel about that offer. Remus hates the idea of even Sirius, let alone you, on a motorcycle. “Tell ‘er, Moons.” 

You’re already looking at Remus with a mischievous smile. 

No way, he tells you. Not happening.

Buzzkill, you fingerspell. 

Remus shrugs, and he doesn’t need to sign anything for you to read and what about it? in his expression. 

“Ooh, they’re fighting,” Sirius deduces, laughing darkly. “This sign language stuff isn’t so hard to pick up on, is it Prongs? You can get the general meaning from their faces.” 

Remus plasters on a smile. Not hard? I’ve been learning for two years, he vents to you. 

You give a little laugh. Don’t listen, he doesn’t know what he’s talking about. But at least tell him I said thanks for the offer.

Remus turns to Sirius. “She says fuck you.” 

You make a sound of offense, slapping Remus’ arm lightly. 

“Okay, okay,” he relents. “She said thank you for the offer. But no.” 

“It’s crazy,” James says with a little smile. “Everything you’re claiming she says sounds exactly like what you would say if you could choose, Moony.” He glances at you, and you raise your eyebrows like I know, right?

“Alright, we’d better be off,” Remus decides, shutting your door for you and rounding the front of the car. “Thanks for the chili, Prongs. And Pads, your bike is banned to her, so don’t offer again.” 

“Buzzkill,” Sirius calls after him, but Remus pretends not to hear, shutting his door. 

“Hey,” you say, your voice a bit louder than you’d usually allow. You’re grinning at Remus. “That’s exactly what I said!”

[awionetka]

𝐞𝐧𝐣𝐨𝐲 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐰! ❅

what if Love and Deepspace was a college rock band?

𝐝𝐞𝐬𝐜𝐫: fluff in headcannon format. the band features all five of the boys. brief Zayne x reader.

𝐗𝐚𝐯𝐢𝐞𝐫 / 𝐙𝐚𝐲𝐧𝐞 / 𝐑𝐚𝐟𝐚𝐲𝐞𝐥 / 𝐒𝐲𝐥𝐮𝐬 / 𝐂𝐚𝐥𝐞𝐛

Zayne is...

the bassist!

Using their band activities as a way to relieve stress and spend some time outside of the college library, pre-med student Zayne ended up being a rather unexpected addition to the group. He'd already been playing bass for quite some time, having picked it up back in his early teens, so he easily returned to it. Not caring for the unnecessary theatrics, Zayne showed up to gigs on time, practiced diligently and avoided alcohol during shows like the plague (much to Rafayel's dismay).

Although it may seem like he's a bit out of place, Zayne fits not only his assigned instrument perfectly, but the rest of the boys as well. Not long after signing up for band try outs and passing on the first try (he was actually the only bassist who showed up, however no one mentioned this Adam Clayton esque predicament to him to avoid making Zayne upset), he began hanging out with his newly acquired band outside of practice. It's not uncommon for them to "pick him up" from his lecture, most likely in Caleb's beat up sedan, drawing curious looks from his classmates.

Only Sylus knows how much all of it means to Zayne. The creative freedom, artistic expression, their uncanny friendships. Before a gig, after downing one (1) shot of vodka, Zayne teared up a little and confessed he's scared that soon his responsibilities will prevent him from playing with them. Time has passed since then, but Zayne is still trying to make peace with that and value the present more.

You and Zayne could be described as reluctant acquaintances. He's enrolled in most of your classes and attends them all without fail. Some of your fellow students snicker at him behind his back, making fun of Zayne's eagerness to learn. You, however, have always found it quite endearing and, truth be told, his knowledge could only be describes as extensive. Plus, well... He is in fact rather handsome, you can give him that.

You've debated, long and hard, whether or not you have a genuine crush on Zayne. What cemented your belief was one evening in a local bar – it was Friday night, you just passed a particularly challenging exam and your best friend offered to buy you both a couple of mojitos to celebrate. The next thing you know, you're situated at the very back of the room, thankful for the ever-present shadow which hides just how flustered you'd become after spotting Zayne on stage. You definitely had a crush on him.

𝐙𝐚𝐲𝐧𝐞'𝐬 (𝐛𝐚𝐬𝐬) 𝐠𝐮𝐢𝐭𝐚𝐫 𝐜𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐬 𝐨𝐟…

❅ Ibanez Talman TMB420B-BKF

Sleek and elegant, simple and professional, Zayne likes to stick with the classics. It's a standard design, not without a certain reasoning for that. Zayne claims that's more than enough for him; his Ibanez is never dusty and the strings do not reek of rust like some people's. He knows that if he had more basses, he'd probably rarely put the other ones to use, so he's playing it safe.

❅ Epiphone Starling Dreadnought Acoustic Guitar, Ebony

Zayne's second guitar isn't a bass at all; it's a well-kept acoustic with a gentle floral design on the side. This one is solely for his own pleasure (and yours, by extension), although he does bring it to practice sometimes. He's quite skilled at this one as well, but still makes a very attentive student whenever Xavier teaches him how to play some of his favourites. Will sometimes attempt his bandmate's solos on it just to make everyone laugh – successfully, of course.

𝐙𝐚𝐲𝐧𝐞’𝐬 𝐫𝐨𝐜𝐤 𝐫𝐞𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬

❅ dangerous animals; arctic monkeys

❅ punchin' bag; cage the elephant

❅ bad case of loving you; robert palmer

❅ want you so bad; the vaccines

❅ you’ll pay; the black keys

[sanesaviour]

K (oc), Sam, Ava and Luke

I wanted to draw them doing just regular stuff- u know, as completely normal teenagers

K - she is playing guitar (at first I wanted her to bassist but it would be too cliché have overly sassy and edgy character playing bass lol)… I think after getting her shit and mental health together she would go back to her hobbies she used to do before becoming vigilante, like I imagine while after being caught by S.H.I.E.L.D. she would become more cooperative thus Coulson would want her to attend the high school (even tho she’s been dropped out for half year) not because he would expect her to be academic weapon but he would want her to normalize a bit and spend time with people her age… she would probably randomly join band of someone from school and realize how much she missed playing music and stuff related to it (now I wanna draw the band, don’t know if they all would be ocs or some other characters from the show, Harry Osborn as bassist tho👀)

Sam - he skates everywhere, all the time, especially to school… and is always late, he could be on time if he used his nova powers but where is fun in that, right? Also he definitely designed bottom of his skateboard… also he only owns vans shoes, that’s my head canon

Ava - bookworm, I just can tell she would love dark romance or fantasy romance books, also I think even tho Danny and Peter both reads lot no one beats Ava, she can finish reading 300 page book in several hours, also I think they all read very different stuff… even tho Ava has resting b face,she is very expressive while reading, like she gasps and giggles all the time… Peter would once read one of her books and he would be so offended by some of the parts like “Is this what you read all the time?” or “Is it even allowed publish something like this?!” but she wouldn’t feel embarrassed about it she would just hit him with “girls who get it, get it✨”

Luke - I know it’s bit stereotypical to give black character basketball as hobby but I think in this case it’s so fitting, but I think he wouldn’t join school basketball team, he just enjoys the street basketball, or just practicing throws at basket during sunset hour while having deep conversations with his friends. I think others would join him regularly , not all at the same time, mostly one or two of them… I think it would be like some kind of therapy for them lol… I think Luke is very good at giving street smart advices, so they would just go practice with him and vent about life to him, probably Sam and Peter mostly… also to add more oc stuff I think K / Solarion would become agent of shield (very “willingly” lol) and she would also attend same high school as team but she would keep her distance from them, but I think Luke would be the fist one to just treat her in more friendly way (or less hostile way than others)and once just ask her if she wanna practice throws at basket just to make her feel more included I guess… she would go, and they would be silent 90% of time bc they don’t really know each other that well(and she is more talkative in group settings than in one on one scenario), but still she would enjoy it

[kissingmilfs]

🎸𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐬 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐥𝐝 | 𝐩𝐮𝐧𝐤 𝐫𝐨𝐜𝐤! 𝐬𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐤𝐚 𝐱 𝐦𝐞𝐥 🎸

18+ minors please dni

content warnings: there’s honestly none! it’s sweet and i had a lot of fun. if people like it and are interested i’ll probably consider a part 2.

based off this ask 🎸

✩°｡⋆⸜ 🎧✮🎸₊˚⊹♡ ✩°｡⋆⸜ 🎧✮🎸₊˚⊹♡ ✩°｡⋆⸜ 🎧✮

✮⚡︎ sevika’s band name is The Z Rebels. they’re pretty big in zaun and even book shows in piltover surprisingly. sevika loved that she could rock out with her bass guitar and either hide in the foggy shadows on stage or stand right on edge and enthrall everyone with just her fingers.

✮⚡︎ she had unexpectedly met mel as the z rebels were setting up for their latest gig at a semi-fancy night club. mel commanded the room by the mere presence of walking in and popping her gum far too loudly. sevika couldn’t take her eyes off of mel either. she wore her hair in two large puffs in shapes of stars. sevika found herself loving mel’s two braids adorned with beads.

✮⚡︎ mel was one of the z rebels biggest fans. moving to piltover in somewhat exile hadn’t squashed her self expression or interest. she had found another punk scene in piltover thanks to the efforts of the zaun community. it slowly trickled into piltover but she enjoyed more the underground scene in zaun. so when she heard they were performing in piltover mel jumped on the opportunity to help with anything.

✮⚡︎ mel’s favorite member of the band, of course, was sevika. she loved the range of emotions sevika could invoke with just her bass. and it helped sevika was insanely attractive. mel had come to the night club in hopes of catching sevika alone. she watched as the band did sound checks with a noticeable excitement radiating off of her.

✮⚡︎ it was sevika who had made the first move. she could feel mel’s eyes on her the entire sound check. taking account of mel green eyes lighting up when sevika practiced her solo. sevika doesn’t think she could have resisted mel anyway. because the second sevika hopped off of stage and crossed to mel—the younger woman shot out of her chair with a huge smile. her plaid skirt was frayed and sewed with patches of other material. when sevika got closer she almost stumbled backwards. the club lights didn’t do mel any justice.

✮⚡︎ mel found it exceptionally easy to talk with sevika despite being star struck. sevika’s dry humor and slight awkwardness allowed mel to feel comfortable around sevika. and sevika could not pull her eyes away from the green ones that looked up at her with such fondness and adoration.

✮⚡︎ sevika certainly had slept with a few groupies. most of the band did. it’s not the reason she started but it certainly made playing fun when they were sometimes so severely underpaid from gigs. but for some reason she couldn’t bring herself to drag mel into a bathroom stall. sevika knew mel deserved more than that.

✮⚡︎ mel and sevika met up the following day at local restaurant in zaun. when mel suggested it—sevika rambled on with slight offense that mel didn’t need to placate her. she could afford to eat in piltover despite not wishing to. but when mel defiantly spoke back and told sevika to get over herself—well sevika did just that.

✮⚡︎ it was very much a surprise to the other band members when mel started attending all their gigs. and it was even more of a surprise when sevika wrote her first song. the idea dawned on her when mel rested her chin and hand on sevika’s stomach after a session of lovemaking. a word sevika would normally never use.

✮⚡︎ sevika’s song to mel was an instant hit. they were getting interests for a record deal. and potentially a proper tour. sevika twirled mel around in her arms once they signed their first deal. mel had offered to look over the contract and even get them a good lawyer.

✮⚡︎ people have made assumptions mel is the cash cow for the z rebels. which isn’t true. if they need something mel is the last person they’ll ask. mel also never offers unless it’s something dire. she knows how important it is for the entire band to say they worked hard. blood sweat and tears. but she adores throwing after parties in her penthouse for them. she loves having the unity of zaun and piltover be initiated through a fucking punk rock band.

✮⚡︎ and mel’s job…well…one day she’s a painter. the next day she’s a writer. for a brief period she became the band’s photographer until vi pointed out she only took pictures of sevika. not like sevika cared too much. sevika knew mel was a trust fund baby but it didn’t bother her as it should’ve. mel never flashed her money or made sevika feel bad about her own upbringings.

✮⚡︎ eventually mel ended up selling her penthouse and her one and only big gift to the group was buying them their own home in zaun. it wasn’t perfect and needed lots of renovations. but she loved seeing sevika in her tank tops and work pants carrying around lumber and bags of concrete. and when mel’s and sevika room was done—mel took the time to create a mural in their room that reminded her of the love growing between her and sevika.

[rafegetinmybed]

rafe putting a bratty fwb reader in her place after she flirts with another guy ۶ৎ

cw: smut, 18+! mdni, teasing, flirting, choking, jealousy, fingering, degradation.

the bass thumped through the party, filling the space with vibrant energy. laughter bounced off the walls, mixing with the sweet and tangy scents swirling in the warm air. you walked in, feeling that buzz of confidence as you tossed your hair and played with the hem of your snug dress. it hugged you just right, and you could feel all the eyes on you—and honestly, you were loving it.

across the room, rafe leaned against the wall, drink in hand, looking like he was ready to set someone on fire with his glare. you both had been hooking up for a while now, keeping it casual and fun. but tonight? there was definitely something in the air. the way you danced and flirted with abandon drove him a little wild.

you spotted a tall, handsome guy sitting on a couch and strutted over, fully aware of the attention you were commanding. “hey there, i’m y/n,” you said, leaning in closely. “what’s a girl gotta do to get some attention around here?”

“cole,” he grinned. “you’ve already got my attention. what else do you want?”

“oh, i know exactly what i want,” you teased, batting your eyelashes and leaning closer. in that moment, rafe’s jealousy ignited. as you leaned in closer to cole, whispering something that made him chuckle, rafe couldn’t stand it anymore. “y/n.” he called, cutting through the music, his tone sharp and filled with tension.

you turned, genuinely surprised, but the playful smirk stayed plastered on your face. “oh look, it’s rafe! come join us! cole was just telling me all about him,” you lied, your voice dripping with sweet sarcasm.

“oh, that sounds riveting,” rafe replied, moving closer, his expression shifting into something more serious. “but we need to talk. now.”

you arched an eyebrow, crossing your arms. “what’s wrong? can’t handle a little competition?” you shot back, relishing the playful tension swirling between you.

“competition? are you—are you fuckin serious?” he closed the space between you, heat radiating off him. “you really think that guy is competition for me?”

you smirked, enjoying this way too much. “maybe i do. maybe you should step it up.”

that was all it took for him to snap. in one quick motion, rafe roughly grabbed your wrist and led you away from cole, his body pressing against yours as he pulled you into a quieter hallway. the energy between you was electric, and you could practically feel the tension crackling in the air.

“what are you doing?” you asked coyly, but there was an excited flutter in your stomach and a heat pulsating in between your legs.

rafe shoved you gently against the wall, leaning in close, your faces just inches apart. “you think it’s funny to tease me, huh? flirting with anyone who’ll listen?” his dark eyes were locked onto yours, intense and undeniably captivating.

“rafe—” you started, but he cut you off, his grip tightening around your throat just enough to make your heart race.

“shut up, slut. you love the attention, don’t you?” he scoffed, leaning in, his breath hot against your skin. “you want them to see you like this? letting some random guy think he stands a chance?”

before you could respond, he crashed his lips against yours, kissing you fiercely as he maintained that tight hold on your throat. the mix of danger and desire sent shivers down your spine. “you’re mine,” he murmured against your lips, and you nodded, breathless, as you lost yourself in the fire between you.

with one hand still gripping your throat, he slid the other down your body, fingers teasingly grazing your thigh before moving higher, pushing past the hem of your dress. you gasped into the kiss as he roughly pulled your panties to the side. whimpering, you dig your nails into his biceps as he began to roughly finger you with his fingers, the thrill of being so exposed and dominated sending waves of pleasure coursing through you.

“let everyone fucking watch,” he said breathlessly, his eyes dark with intensity as he tightened his grip on your throat. “you’re going to show them exactly who you belong to.” as he worked his fingers, you felt yourself slipping deeper into a mix of ecstasy and submission, surrendering fully to the moment and to him.

his eyes blaze with a fierce intensity as he thrusts his fingers inside you, rough and unrelenting, his fingertips scraping against your inner walls. "dirty fucking slut.” he pants, his voice low and menacing. "you love being fucked like this, don't you?" he pounds into you with his fingers, his palm slapping against your clit, the sound echoing through the air.

you moan, a low, husky sound, as he continues to finger you with brutal intensity. your eyes flutter closed, your mouth open in a silent scream as he ravages you with his fingers. "you're so wet," he sneers. "you're dripping all over my fingers." he twists his fingers inside you, making you cry out in pleasure.

your moans grow louder, a primal "oh, rafe…!" escaping your lips as he continues to degrade you. he pulls his fingers out of you and slams them back in again, making you gasp in shock. your body begins to tremble, your muscles tensing up as you approach the edge of orgasm.

"you're going to cum for me," he commands. "cum all over my fucking fingers." he fingers you faster and harder, his palm slapping against your clit with increasing intensity. you feel yourself building up to a crescendo, your pleasure spiraling out of control.

and then you're cumming, your body convulsing in ecstasy as you let out a loud wail of pleasure. your juices gush out of your body, pouring down over his hand. he keeps fingering till you're done, till every last bit of pleasure has been wrung from your body. you tremble against the wall panting, your chest rising up and down. you look at him, a mixture of shame and desire written on your face.

as soon as the last shudder leaves your body, he tightens his grip on your neck and pulls your head towards him. his lips crash down on yours in a rough kiss, forcing them apart with brutal intensity. his tongue invades your mouth, tangling with yours in a fierce dance of dominance and submission.

in a swift movement, he let go of your throat and grabbed your boobs, squeezing them possessively. “you think you can tease me like that and not pay for it?” he growled, holding you captive as his eyes burned into yours.

you looked up at him, lashes fluttering coyly as you absorbed the heat of his glare. “okay, okay! i’m sorry!” you said, heat rising to your cheeks. “i guess i just wanted to see you get all worked up.”

“and now who’s worked up?” he chuckled, the corners of his mouth twitching into a smirk. he leaned in closer, eyes sparkling mischievously. “but you love it, don’t you?”

“maybe,” you replied, feigning innocence. the tension crackled in the air as he regarded you, both annoyed and undeniably drawn to your defiance.

if you liked this . . . click here

 © 2025 enchante-starkey. all rights reserved.

[isuckatwritingsobenice]

𝐒𝐩𝐥𝐢𝐭 𝐑𝐢𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐒𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭˚˖𓍢ִ໋🦢˚

Synopsis: Split Rivers Sweetheart, a sweet little Junior who’s the lead singer of the schools show choir. The only issue is a certain head cheerleader has made it her life’s mission to disband your club with her family’s money. Unfortunately for her, you seem to have more support than you realize, maybe even from the golden boy himself. Wally Clark.

Notes: Modern AU! All characters are alive! Mentions of Alcohol, Drugs, partying! Reader and all characters are around 17-18 ish! Most of my inspo for this was from Glee since I’m rewatching the show. 80’s References & so on.

Masterlist // Chapter Four

The air in the show choir room was thick with tension. What started as an ambitious idea was quickly becoming a logistical nightmare. The cheerleaders stood on one side of the room, arms crossed, ponytails bouncing whenever they rolled their eyes. The show choir members stood on the other, looking just as unimpressed.

At the center of it all stood Claire Zolinski, clipboard in hand, her perfectly manicured nails tapping impatiently against the surface. Across from her, Charley had their arms crossed, gaze sharp. Maddie was beside them, shifting her weight like she was physically holding back the urge to say something snarky.

“Alright,” Claire exhaled, looking around at the divided room. “We’re running out of time. We need to at least get through Espresso before practice is over.”

Nicole clapped her hands together, trying to cut through the tension with enthusiasm. “It’s a high-energy song! If we nail the timing, it’s gonna look amazing!”

“It would help if the choreography actually made sense,” Charley shot back.

Claire stiffened. “It does make sense. You just don’t know how to keep up.”

Charley scoffed. “Right, because we definitely spend our time throwing people in the air for fun.”

“You don’t spend your time dancing, that’s for sure.”

“Okay, enough,” you interrupted, stepping forward before the argument could spiral further. “Can we at least try to get through this? Fighting isn’t gonna magically make the routine better.

Claire and Charley didn’t break eye contact for a moment longer before Claire finally sighed and looked away. “Fine.”

Maddie muttered something under her breath, but you ignored it, turning to Yuri, who was adjusting the mic stand. “Let’s start from the top.”

Simon cracked his knuckles, looking more excited for the dancing than the actual singing. “Let’s do this.”

Dawn hit play on the speaker, and the bass from Espresso filled the room. Immediately, everyone scrambled into position.

The first few beats started strong—Simon and Nicole nailed the footwork, and Yuri’s vocals were clean and controlled. But it didn’t take long for things to start falling apart. The cheerleaders weren’t in sync with the choir members. The formations were off. Some of the show choir kids were getting tripped up by the fast transitions.

By the time the first chorus hit, Claire threw her hands up in frustration.

“Stop, stop, stop!” she yelled, reaching over to pause the music. “This isn’t working!”

“Oh really?” Maddie shot back, voice dripping with sarcasm. “I couldn’t tell.”

Claire turned to her sharply. “You could at least try instead of rolling your eyes every five seconds.”

“I am trying. It’s just hard to take this seriously when it’s obvious you don’t actually care about us being part of this. You just need warm bodies to fill your routine.”

Claire’s jaw clenched, and for the first time, something flickered in her expression—guilt, maybe? But it was gone just as fast. “I do care. If I didn’t, I wouldn’t have come to you in the first place.”

Maddie crossed her arms. “Yeah, well, you sure have a funny way of showing it.”

Before things could spiral again, Yuri let out a sharp sigh, running a hand through his hair. “Enough. If we’re going to make this work, we need to simplify things where we can.” He turned to you, eyes sharp with decision. “You’re singing all the songs.”

You blinked. “Wait, what?”

“It’ll be cleaner if we don’t switch vocalists mid-performance. It gives the routine consistency, and let’s be real, you have the strongest voice for these songs.” Yuri’s tone was firm, leaving no room for argument.

Janet nodded in agreement. “It makes sense. Less moving around for us, and the focus stays on the performance itself instead of worrying about transitions.”

Claire, for once, didn’t argue, just crossed her arms and sighed. “Fine by me. As long as we can actually get through the choreography.”

You hesitated for a moment, but seeing everyone waiting for your answer, you finally nodded. “Alright. I’ll do it.”

“Good,” Yuri said. “Now, let’s actually run this thing properly.”

The two groups exchanged glances, tension still thick in the air, but eventually, they all grumbled in agreement.

“Alright,” Claire said, rolling back her shoulders. “From the top.”

The music started again. And this time, despite the mistakes, despite the hesitations, despite the obvious divide in the room—something clicked.

It still wasn’t perfect, but for the first time, it actually felt like they might be able to pull this off.

By the time practice was over, the tension had eased—but just barely. The cheerleaders and the show choir weren’t exactly friends, but at least they weren’t actively trying to strangle each other anymore. Progress.

As everyone started packing up, Nicole clapped her hands together. “So, I talked to the theater department, and they’re in.”

Yuri raised an eyebrow. “In for what?”

“The setup for the halftime show. You know how they’re the fastest at putting sets together? They’ll be responsible for whatever staging we have on the field.”

Janet grinned. “That actually makes this a lot easier. They work fast, and they’ll make sure everything doesn’t fall apart mid-performance.”

Claire, still slightly stiff from earlier arguments, nodded. “Fine. But tell them not to overdo it. We don’t need a Broadway production, just something functional.”

Nicole smirked. “Oh, don’t worry. They’re already planning something over-the-top. You know how they are.”

Claire groaned, rubbing her temples, but didn’t argue.

“Alright,” Yuri sighed. “We’ll meet up tomorrow to go over everything again. Let’s hope it actually looks like a halftime show by then.”

With that, practice wrapped up, and everyone filed out—some leaving in pairs, others in quiet groups, all exhausted but determined.

The sun hung low in the sky, streaking the field with gold as the football team pushed through their drills. The air was thick with sweat, the sharp scent of churned-up grass, and the distant echo of cleats slamming against turf.

But none of that mattered to Wally Clark.

Not when the coach was in his face, practically spitting as he yelled.

“Pick it up, Clark! You’re not running plays like you mean them! You want a championship or not?”

Wally gritted his teeth, helmet tucked under his arm, sweat dripping down the back of his neck. “Yes, Coach.”

“Then act like it! You’re the best we got! You don’t bring your A-game, we don’t win. And I don’t lose!”

The words sank deep into Wally’s chest, pressing against the already suffocating weight of expectations. He knew all of this. He didn’t need to hear it again.

But before the frustration could fester, Coach blew the whistle. “Five-minute break! Hydrate!”

The players scattered, some jogging to the sidelines for water, others flopping onto the grass with exhausted groans. Wally exhaled hard, rolling his shoulders, trying to shake off the stress.

That was when the whistles started.

A couple of his teammates nudged each other, smirking as they tilted their chins toward the field entrance. “Well, hello, ladies.”

Wally didn’t even glance up. He’d seen the cheerleaders walk onto the field a million times before. It wasn’t exactly a life-changing event.

But then—

The music started.

At first, it was just a heavy beat pulsing through the speakers. But then, a voice cut through the field.

Clear. Strong. Captivating.

Wally frowned, finally looking up as he pulled his helmet off.

The cheerleaders were moving into formation, rehearsing their halftime routine. The show choir had set up near them, their small group arranged with microphones, preparing to run through the setlist. But Wally barely registered any of that.

Because he was focused on her.

Or at least, he was trying to.

He couldn’t see her—she was too far, blocked by some of the other performers—but he could hear her. And that was enough to make something inside him pause.

She sounded good.

Not just decent, not just okay. Really, really good. Like she belonged on a stage bigger than a high school football field.

And it bothered him.

Because he wasn’t expecting it.

His feet moved before he could stop himself, stepping toward the edge of the field, trying to angle himself for a better look. Just as he was about to get a clear view—

“Clark!”

Coach’s bark snapped him out of it, and he turned sharply, setting his jaw.

“Get over here! We’re going over plays!”

Wally clenched his helmet in one hand, giving the field one last glance. He still couldn’t see her.

But the voice stayed with him.

Even as he jogged back to his teammates, even as the coach started barking orders again—he could still hear her.

And for the first time in a long time, Wally Clark found something slipping through the cracks of football, pressure, and expectations.

Curiosity.

Soft shades of pink and baby blue painted the walls, the warm glow of fairy lights strung along the white curtains casting gentle shadows. Jewelry clinked softly against the edges of a porcelain tray on her vanity, catching the dim light like scattered stars. The room smelled faintly of vanilla and fresh linen, an otherwise safe and dreamy space—if not for the muffled chaos drifting up from downstairs.

The shouting had started almost twenty minutes ago.

At first, you tried to ignore it. Pretended it was just another disagreement, a raised voice or two before everything settled down. But then something shattered.

Your stomach twisted.

You paced the length of you room, arms crossed tightly over your chest, fingers gripping the hem of your shirt. You didn’t know what to do. Could you do anything? If you went downstairs, you might make it worse. If you stayed put, you’d have to keep listening, the weight of every sharp word digging under your skin.

The sound of something else breaking made you flinch.

Your hands shook as you reached for your phone, quickly scrolling to Dawn’s contact. You pressed the call button and brought the phone to your ear, squeezing your eyes shut.

“Pick up. Please pick up.”

The line rang once. Twice.

Straight to voicemail.

You exhaled sharply, throat tight. Of course. It’s late. She’s probably asleep.

The voices downstairs swelled again, and you quickly set your phone aside, not trusting your grip. Instead, you crawled onto your bed, curling up against the plush comforter.

It was all you could do.

Just wait.

Wait for it to stop.

Wait for the voices to drop back down into silence, for the tension to dissolve into an uneasy stillness.

Eventually, exhaustion won out.

Even with the distant echoes of anger in the air, even with the weight pressing heavy on your chest—your eyelids grew heavier. Your body gave in.

And as you slipped into sleep, the last thing you heard was the sound of someone walking away downstairs.

The steady rhythm of a basketball hitting the wall filled the room, punctuated by the occasional swish as it landed perfectly in the small hoop hanging over his door. Wally leaned back against his pillows, tossing the ball absentmindedly, watching it spin in the air before catching it again.

His phone buzzed on his nightstand.

He ignored it.

Another buzz. Then another.

Probably the guys in the group chat talking about practice, or the game on Friday, or something else football-related. He just didn’t care right now. He needed a break. A second to breathe without thinking about running plays, winning streaks, or his coach drilling it into his head that he was the key to a championship.

He exhaled through his nose, tossing the ball a little harder.

His mind wandered back to practice, to the way his coach got on his case about picking up the pace. It wasn’t like he was slacking off, but lately, it felt like no matter how much he gave, it wasn’t enough. The pressure was there, constant, sitting heavy on his shoulders.

His grip tightened around the ball.

Then—his thoughts shifted.

To her voice.

The rehearsal.

That halftime thing the choir was doing with the cheerleaders. He hadn’t planned on paying attention, but he did. More than he wanted to admit.

The sound of her voice had cut through the noise of practice, weaving through the air in a way that made him stop. He hadn’t even seen her—just heard her, like something drawing him in before he could think twice about it.

And now he was wondering.

Who the hell was that?

His phone buzzed again.

He let the ball drop into his lap and ran a hand down his face, staring up at the ceiling, still hearing the lingering melody in his head.

And for the first time all night, it wasn’t football running circles in his brain.

It was her.

Whoever she was.

[ddoralaexplorer]

Eclipsed by You ~ A Paul Lahote Story

Chapter Ten~ Scarlet Shadows

Music boomed throughout the Cullen house, the bass vibrating through the floor as laughter and excitement filled the air. Every senior was here, caught up in the electricity of graduation night. I had to admit—Alice outdid herself this time. The decorations, the music, the lights—it was like something straight out of a movie. Way better than the last party.

I arrived with Bella, though Paul had decided to meet us here. I wasn’t exactly sure why, but I didn’t question it. Maybe he wanted to avoid spending too much time in a house full of vampires. Maybe he just liked making an entrance. Either way, I was glad he was coming.

“Let’s go dance!” Angela—one of Bella’s friends and easily my favorite—grinned as she grabbed my hand, tugging me toward the center of the room.

I laughed, letting her pull me into the mass of bodies. The heat, the flashing lights, the beat thrumming through my chest—it was intoxicating. My hips moved to the music, my red solo cup forgotten as I let myself get lost in the moment.

Then, familiar hands slid around my waist, firm and possessive, pressing me back into a wall of warmth. My breath hitched, but I didn’t have to turn around to know who it was. Paul.

His scent wrapped around me, that mix of earth and heat I’d come to crave. He didn’t say a word, just pulled me flush against him, his body fitting against mine like we were made for this. His grip tightened slightly, his fingers pressing into my hips as his movements fell in perfect sync with mine.

I exhaled, my body instinctively surrendering to his. My back against his chest, my head tilting slightly as his lips brushed—just barely—against the shell of my ear.

“You looked too good not to join,” he murmured, his voice deep, gravelly.

A shiver ran down my spine. I turned my head just enough to meet his eyes—dark, hungry, filled with something that sent heat rushing through me.

“If you wanted to dance,” I whispered, a teasing smile playing on my lips, “you could’ve just asked.”

Paul smirked, his hands sliding lower, fingers skimming the edge of my dress. “Where’s the fun in that?”

The music pounded around us, but all I could hear was the pounding of my own heart.

I turn around slowly, sliding my arms around his neck, pressing my body flush against his. The music thrums through me, my movements fluid and deliberate. My hips roll in time with the beat, teasing, testing. Paul’s hands grip my waist, rough and possessive, his fingers burning through the thin fabric of my dress as they trace the curve of my sides.

His gaze is heavy, darkened with something primal, something that makes my breath hitch. He’s looking at me like I’m his next meal, like he’s barely holding himself back.

Good.

I knew this dress would drive him crazy—the way the red silk clings to my curves, the slit daring to reveal just enough, the open back practically inviting his touch. And now, standing here, with his hands roaming dangerously slow and his breath warm against my neck, I know I have him exactly where I want him.

A shiver runs down my spine when he leans in, his lips just barely grazing my ear. “You’re playing a dangerous game,” he murmurs, voice low and rough, full of a promise I’m desperate to cash in on.

I smirk, tilting my head to the side, giving him full access. “Maybe I like danger.”

His grip tightens.

And just like that, I know—I’ve already lost.

“Paul!”

A sharp voice sliced through the moment, shattering the haze between us. Paul’s expression darkened immediately, his jaw clenching as if he already knew who it was. Jacob.

We turned toward the stairs, where Bella and Edward stood, their faces unreadable—stern, serious. Something was off.

Paul’s grip on my hand tightened as we made our way toward them, only to realize the entire room had gone still. Carlisle and the other Cullens were there, along with Jacob, Quil, and Embry. The uneasy silence that settled over the room made my stomach twist.

“Lil Swan! Looking good!” Emmett’s booming voice broke through the tension as he pulled me into one of his suffocating bear hugs. I let out a laugh, but it was short-lived. Paul wasn’t amused.

“Hey, Em,” I muttered, reaching for Paul’s hand again. But this time, he let go, sliding his arm around my waist instead, pulling me against him like he was silently declaring ownership. I bit my lip, trying not to smirk at his possessiveness.

“You don’t belong here.”

Jacob’s voice was sharp, slicing through the noise. The entire room went still, heads snapping between us.

I rolled my eyes. “What’s happening?” I ignored him, shifting my gaze to Bella and Edward, looking for answers.

Jacob scoffed, stepping closer, his presence overwhelming, his dark eyes boring into me like daggers. “I said, you don’t belong here,” he hissed, voice low, threatening.

Paul immediately shifted in front of me, blocking Jacob’s advance. His entire body tensed, his posture screaming dominance as he squared his shoulders. “Give it a rest, Jacob,” Paul growled, voice thick with warning.

Jacob’s hands curled into fists at his sides. “This doesn’t involve h—”

“Enough!”

Bella’s voice rang out, cutting through the standoff. Her eyes found mine, and for the first time since this whole thing started, there was something soft, something reassuring.

And just like that, the air in the room felt even heavier. Whatever was coming next—I had a feeling it was bigger than all of us.

“The pack will fight,” Jacob declares suddenly, his voice unwavering.

I feel Paul tense beneath me as I sit on his lap. His entire body goes rigid, a silent warning. Jacob can’t make this decision. He’s not in command—hell, he’s not even second-in-command. That’s Paul. But Jacob ignores the weight of Paul’s glare, repeating himself like his word is law.

Not even Bella could have changed his mind.

Paul exhales, a deep, frustrated sigh. As much as he wants to push back, something in him already knows—Sam will agree. There’s no fighting this.

“Fine,” Paul finally says, his voice rough. “The pack will fight.”

I shoot up from his lap, my pulse spiking. “No.” My voice is sharp, cutting through the tense atmosphere. I turn toward Bella and Edward, my heart pounding.

“No,” I repeat, softer this time, but no less firm.

I understand protecting Bella—I do. But throwing Paul into this? Risking his life? And all because Jacob has some ridiculous, selfish attachment to her?

“Ves, baby,” Paul tries, his voice laced with that cocky ease, trying to lighten the mood. “Killing some vampires is kind of our thing.”

But it’s not funny.

I don’t even spare him a glance as I storm toward Jacob, my chest tight with frustration.

“When are you going to realize Bella doesn’t want you?” My words hit harder than I intended, but I don’t regret them. “I cared for you, Jacob. I really did. But right now?” I shake my head, my voice laced with disbelief. “Right now, I don’t care. You’re throwing yourself into this, dragging Paul with you, for what?”

Jacob’s face hardens, but I don’t wait for a response. I push past him, my body trembling with anger, and head straight for the door.

“Ves!” Paul calls after me, but I don’t stop.

I can’t.

Because the truth is, I feel powerless. And that terrifies me more than anything.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I spin around, my breath coming in short, uneven gasps. The woods stretch endlessly in every direction, dark and unfamiliar. My pulse quickens.

Damn it.

I curse under my breath, realizing just how lost I am. I had been too caught up in my own thoughts—about Bella, about Paul, about what was coming next—to pay attention to where I was going. The newborns. The battle. The uncertainty of it all. Fear coils tight in my stomach.

Then, a voice—soft, mocking—cuts through the silence.

"You smell just like her. Sweet."

The hairs on the back of my neck rise.

I turn slowly, dread pooling in my chest.

A redhead stands a few feet away, her eerie, feline eyes locked onto me. Victoria.

My breath catches. I’ve only ever known vampires like the Cullens—restrained, civilized. But her? She’s something else entirely. A predator.

“Victoria?” My voice barely comes out, shaky and weak. My body refuses to move, frozen by fear.

She tilts her head, a wicked smile curling on her lips. "I can hear your cute little heartbeat," she coos, stepping closer, her movements slow, deliberate. "Scared, are we?"

I swallow hard, every instinct screaming at me to run. But I don’t. Because I know—no matter how fast I am—she’s faster.

Instead, I force a breathless laugh. “Of you?” I tilt my chin, masking the terror gripping me. “Not a chance.”

Her smirk deepens. "You should be."

In an instant, she’s behind me. A sharp gasp escapes me as her fingers tangle in my hair, pulling it aside to expose my neck. Her breath is cool against my skin, sending a violent shudder through me.

I stiffen. My pulse pounds against my ribs.

“They’ll kill you,” I say, my voice tight.

She laughs—a soft, sinister sound—as she circles me, her eyes gleaming like a cat toying with its prey. I feel small. My throat goes dry.

She stops in front of me, her presence suffocating. Up close, she’s breathtaking in a way that’s utterly terrifying.

Her hand shoots out, fingers gripping my jaw, tight—too tight. A sharp wince leaves me.

“Your sister will die," she murmurs, her voice laced with certainty. "I’ll make sure of it."

Fury flares in my chest. I try to slap her hand away, but before I can, she throws me.

The impact is brutal. I slam into the ground, the air ripping from my lungs. Pain explodes through my ribs as I gasp for breath.

Victoria watches, amused, as I try to crawl backward. Her foot connects with my abdomen, sending me crashing into a tree with sickening force.

A strangled, horrifying sound escapes me. My body is drowning in agony.

Through the haze of pain, I hear her laugh.

"Edward will pay," she whispers. "And I will destroy everything.”

"Then what, huh?" I sneer, spitting blood onto the dirt. The metallic taste lingers, but I barely feel it over the throbbing ache in my body.

That catches her attention.

Victoria tilts her head, her crimson eyes gleaming under the moonlight. Amusement flickers across her face, but there’s something else too—something she isn’t saying.

"Hm," she hums, tapping a finger against her lips. "Here I thought you'd give up easily."

I let out a low, breathy chuckle despite the burning in my ribs. "You thought wrong."

With slow, calculated movements, I push myself up, favoring my stomach. Every muscle screams, but I refuse to let her see it. Instead, I meet her gaze, my expression shifting—just slightly. Just enough.

"You know," I say, voice softer now, calculating. "I get why you're doing this."

Her smirk falters, just for a second. I don’t give her time to recover.

"You think you're the only one who's lost something?" I continue, letting the pain in my voice weave into something more—something she might recognize. "James meant everything to you, didn’t he?"

Her eyes darken.

Bingo.

"I know what that’s like," I press on, letting my body sag slightly, feigning exhaustion. "Losing someone who made the world make sense. Who made you make sense." I force myself to swallow thickly, my breath hitching just enough to make it sound real. "I know what it feels like to want revenge so badly, you’d burn the world down just to feel something again."

A slow silence settles between us.

Victoria watches me, the tension in her jaw tight. She wants to scoff, to rip me apart, I can see it—but she hesitates. Just a fraction of a second.

I step closer. "But if you kill me or Bella, what then? Does it bring him back? Does it really make the emptiness go away?" I shake my head, my gaze pinning hers. "Or do you just end up more alone than you already are?"

She exhales sharply, eyes flickering with something unreadable.

I’ve cracked her armor—just a little. Just enough.

Now I just have to figure out how to survive the next five minutes.

She was furious, I could see it in her eyes. She knew I had her. The realization sank in like a sharp thorn in her side. I smiled, trying to keep up the facade of bravery, even as my body screamed in pain. I was good at this—playing the game, manipulating the situation to my favor, even when I was outmatched.

Her eyes narrowed, lips curling into a snarl. "You don’t know who you're messing with," she growled, her voice thick with venom.

Before I could react, she lunged at me with inhuman speed, slamming me into the same tree I had just hit earlier. My skull cracked against the bark, pain exploding through my skull like fire. Dazed, my vision blurred, and for a moment, I saw myself fading in and out of consciousness. But I fought it. I fought for control, for air.

Her hand closed around my throat, squeezing with a brutal force that made it hard to breathe. My chest constricted, my pulse hammering against the relentless pressure. My head swam, and for a moment, I could see the darkness creeping at the edges of my vision. But I wasn't done.

Breathless, I managed to force out a laugh, though it felt hollow, shaky. "I have you mad, don’t I?" I spat the words, the taste of blood thick in my mouth.

The fury in her eyes flared, and with a growl, she tossed me to the ground like I was nothing. The air whooshed from my lungs as my body hit the dirt with a heavy thud. Pain radiated through me, but I couldn’t let it show. Not to her.

She straddled me, her weight pinning me to the earth, and for the first time, I could see the full ferocity of her gaze up close. Her face was inches from mine, her breath cold and jagged against my skin. She tilted her head, like a predator admiring its prey before the final strike.

Her lips twisted into a cruel smile, but there was a darkness in her eyes that made the smile seem more like a warning. "I'll see you around," she murmured, her voice low and filled with danger.

I could feel her power, her predatory presence wrapping around me like a vise. But I knew something she didn’t.

I had her right where I wanted her.

And I wasn’t giving up yet.

She shot me one last glance, her red eyes burning with malice before she disappeared into the night, her laugh echoing in my ears. I breathed heavily, my body trembling, both from pain and fear. My skin felt too tight, like I was burning from the inside out. The tears came unbidden, flowing down my cheeks as I tried to steady myself. The adrenaline had worn off, and now the weight of everything hit me all at once.

I forced myself to sit up, but every movement felt like an assault on my body. I gritted my teeth, pushing through the pain, but my legs gave out before I could even stand.

"Vesper!" Emmett’s voice broke through the fog, and before I knew it, his strong arms were around me, lifting me with ease. But the pain was too much. My vision started to blur, my head spinning.

I looked up, my sight dimming as I saw Paul’s frantic face approaching, his expression full of worry. "Vesper, no..." His voice sounded so far away, like I was hearing it underwater.

Everything around me felt like it was collapsing. I felt myself swaying in Emmett’s arms, struggling to stay conscious. My breath hitched in my chest as I fought to stay awake, but the darkness was pulling at me, relentless.

"Stay with me," Paul’s voice was firm, but I could barely make it out. The last thing I remembered was his hand gripping mine, his warmth pressing into me, a lifeline I couldn’t quite hold onto.

And then, everything went black.

It was as though I had slipped into another world, where nothing made sense. I was weightless, disoriented, and disconnected from everything. But amidst the confusion, I could hear Paul’s voice again, faint but there. I clung to it desperately, as if it could bring me back.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 My eyes fluttered open, the rhythmic beeping of machines pulling me from the abyss of unconsciousness. The hospital room was dimly lit, a dull glow from the outside streetlights seeping in through the blinds. My body ached in ways I hadn’t thought possible, every movement sending sharp reminders of what had happened—what I had survived.

To my left, Charlie sat slumped in a chair, arms crossed, his chest rising and falling in deep, steady breaths. He had fallen asleep waiting. To my right, Paul sat upright, his leg bouncing anxiously, hands clasped together, as if trying to hold himself together. His eyes were fixed on me, intense, dark, filled with something I couldn’t quite name—relief, frustration, something deeper.

I swallowed, my throat dry and scratchy. “What happened?” My voice was barely above a whisper, but it was enough to make Paul jolt, his body tensing as he immediately leaned closer. Charlie stirred, blinking groggily before his eyes landed on me.

Paul looked like hell. His face was drawn, his hair a mess like he had run his hands through it a thousand times. His eyes—red-rimmed, tired—betrayed the weight he carried. Had he been crying?

Charlie let out a sigh of relief, gripping my hand gently as he stood. “Carlisle said you took a tumble from a hill near their house,” he said, his tone gentle, but his eyes filled with unspoken worry. He gave my hand a reassuring squeeze before straightening. “I’m gonna go find Carlisle, let him know you’re awake.”

I watched as he walked out, the door clicking shut behind him.

The second we were alone, I felt the air move. Paul hadn’t taken his eyes off me. Not once. The silence between us was heavy, thick with tension.

“What happened, Vesper?” His voice was low, controlled, but I could hear the storm brewing underneath.

I hesitated. No one knew the truth but me. I could tell him. I should tell him. But something inside me held back. Victoria could have killed me. She should have. But she didn’t. And I didn’t understand why.

“I... I don’t remember.” I forced the words out, my gaze shifting toward the window, away from his burning stare.

His jaw clenched.

“That’s bullshit, and you know it.”

His voice was rough, edged with something dangerously close to anger. But not at me. Not really. His hand found mine, gripping it, not enough to hurt, but enough to make me feel it—his frustration, his desperation.

“You’re lying,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper now. “And I don’t know why.”

I swallowed hard, my pulse hammering in my throat. Paul knew me. Knew when I was keeping something from him. And I hated that I couldn’t slip past his radar.

But how could I tell him? How could I explain the way Victoria had toyed with me, played with her food and then let me go? What did she see in me that stopped her from finishing the job?

I didn’t have the answers.

So I stayed quiet.

And Paul?

Paul looked like he was seconds away from losing his mind.

[pianistbynight]

What are your top study strategies with piano? I'm a self-taught pianist that most started because of my love for your lie in April and how music moved people so I am always trying to improve!!!

hi! first of all, i'm sorry this took a while, i wanted to make sure i had as complete a list as possible without being too overwhelming! also not sure what level you're at, so i'm going to assume you're just starting out and you're looking to play classical music. 🙂 also this is more of a "do as i say, not as i do" bc i really struggle to do some of these consistently 🙈

try to learn some basic music theory as soon as you can. just enough to be able to read sheet music (how to read treble and bass clefs, accidentals, time signatures, basic rhythm, and key signatures) if you haven't already. that's something i regret not doing at the beginning bc the vast majority of music and all of classical music are written in sheet music and you get so much more info from it than you can from the best of synthesia videos. beyond that, knowing music theory -> pattern recognition, so it can help with sight reading and memorization. this is the youtube series i learned the basics from. it's pretty comprehensive although i find he's sometimes hard to hear and goes off on a tangent. at the very least, you can use it as a guide for what to type into the search box to get a more concise explanation as there are lots online!

familiarize yourself with the basic technical exercises (scales, arpeggios, triads, etc.) in every key bc those patterns and fingerings appear all the time in classical music.

practice sight reading. (yes, i know it hurts the brain, it hurts mine too, but it will really really speed up the learning process when learning new repertoire so we can focus on the more fun aspects of music! 😆😅)

practice every day! and not just moving your fingers, your mind needs to be present and your ears need to be listening (e.g. are you playing with the right dynamics? are you moving in a way that will get the right tone? how is your posture?). sometimes it's a lot to be thinking about as you're playing, so it helps to record yourself and listen back. once you feel yourself losing focus or making the same mistakes over and over again, maybe it's time to take a little break bc practice makes permanent and you don't wanna injure yourself 🙂

on that note, playing an instrument is kind of like playing a sport in that you need to make sure you use proper form so you don't injure yourself (using bigger muscle groups like your arm and gravity rather than forcing the sound through blocky fingers)! if you play on a digital, the keys will generally be lighter than on an acoustic (highly recommend trying to play on both to compare!), so making a conscious effort to play the way you would be forced to on an acoustic is all the more important.

i hope this helps! my ask box is always open if you have any more questions or just wanna talk music 🎶💗 i'm really excited for you! expressing yourself through music and sharing it with others is so fulfilling 😊

[torspski]

Young Adult Abigail Lincoln/Numbuh 5

Appearance:Abigail Lincoln stands at 5'6", with an athletic yet lean build that reflects her years of training and active leadership. Her skin is a deep, rich brown with a natural glow, and her sharp brown eyes hold a mix of wisdom and confidence. Abby’s hair is styled in long, sleek braids, often accessorized with gold cuffs or beads, or she opts for a high ponytail or undercut on one side when she wants a change. She bears no visible scars but carries herself with the quiet authority earned through her experiences. Abby’s style is the perfect mix of street style and tomboy chic,she wears a black crop top under an oversized red-and-white varsity jacket, a nod to her old favorite hoodie, but with a mature, stylish twist. Her high-waisted olive green cargo joggers are both practical and fashionable, and she pairs them with white high-top sneakers that add a clean contrast to her outfit. On her accessories, she keeps things simple but bold,gold hoop earrings, a gold chain necklace around her neck, and sunglasses that rest over her red hat, which she still rocks as part of her signature look.

Personality: As a young adult, Abigail Lincoln has fully embraced her growth into a confident, strategic leader, balancing responsibility with the laid-back demeanor she’s always known for. No longer a part of the Teens Next Door but still holding onto her memories, Abby has matured into a calm, tactical force to be reckoned with, knowing when to take charge and when to step back and trust others. Her natural ability to stay cool under pressure has only sharpened, making her a reliable figure that others turn to for guidance and advice. While she remains fiercely loyal and protective of her friends, Abby has learned the importance of setting boundaries, understanding that her role is to mentor and support, not always carry the burden herself. Her wit and sense of humor are still ever-present, though now more refined and sarcastic, offering the perfect balance to her role as a leader. Despite her tough exterior, she has become more comfortable with vulnerability, learning to open up to those she trusts. With her passion for music, sweets, and witty comebacks, Abby stays grounded, maintaining that balance of maturity and charm that keeps her the same cool, tomboyish figure her friends know and love.

Headcanons

Leader in Her Own Right: Abby isn't tied to any organization anymore, but she’s still very much a leader. Whether it’s leading community projects, organizing local events, or mentoring youth, she naturally gravitates toward roles where she can help others and use her strategic mind.

Music Is Her Therapy: Abby has a deep love for music, using it as an outlet to express herself. She’s not just about listening to music; she’s learned to play instruments, and sometimes she'll pull out her guitar or bass to unwind after a stressful day. It’s her way of reconnecting with the carefree parts of her past.

Loyal to Her Circle: Even though she’s no longer part of the KND or TND, Abby’s circle of friends is tight-knit. She values loyalty and trust more than anything. She’s the type to keep a small, intimate group of people close, and she’ll drop everything for them in a heartbeat, always making sure her friends are well taken care of.

Sweets Obsessed: Her love for sweets never fades. While she’s matured, she still has a sweet tooth that no amount of adult responsibilities can dull. Whether it’s a cake from her favorite bakery or a quick candy fix, Abby enjoys the little indulgences that make life sweeter.

Mature but Still Playful: Abby’s humor has matured, but she’s still the one to pull pranks or use witty comebacks when least expected. She enjoys playful banter and doesn’t mind poking fun at herself. Her sharp sarcasm is just one of the ways she stays connected to her youthful side.

Mindful of Her Independence: Abby is fiercely independent. While she values her friendships, she makes a point of creating space for herself—she enjoys solo time to recharge, travel, or simply do her own thing without worrying about anyone else.

Passionate About Justice: Though she’s distanced herself from the KND, Abby’s sense of justice and fairness is unshakable. She’s passionate about fighting for equality, whether it’s in her personal life, her career, or on a larger societal level. If she sees something wrong, she won’t hesitate to speak out or take action in whatever way she can.

Low-Key Fashionista: While she’s never been one for flashy or overly trendy outfits, Abby’s style has matured into something effortlessly chic. She loves casual yet polished looks, often mixing tomboyish elements like denim jackets and boots with softer, more elegant pieces like scarves or layered jewelry. She keeps her outfits simple but knows how to make them stand out.

An Advocate for Mental Health: Having experienced the stresses of leadership and the challenges of growing up, Abby has become passionate about mental health. She openly advocates for self-care and emotional well-being, encouraging her friends to seek help when they need it. She's all about breaking the stigma surrounding mental health.

Not Afraid to Cut Toxic People Out: Abby’s patience for negativity or toxic relationships has worn thin over the years. She is quick to distance herself from anyone who doesn’t bring positivity into her life. Whether it’s family, friends, or acquaintances, if someone isn’t treating her right, she’ll move on without hesitation.

Sociable but Selective: Abby’s social circle is small but close. She’s friendly and approachable, but she doesn’t make friends easily. She values quality over quantity, preferring deep, meaningful connections with a select few rather than spreading herself thin. Her inner circle trusts her implicitly.

A Lover of Nature: Abby has developed a deep connection to the outdoors. Whether it’s hiking, camping, or simply sitting in a park, she finds peace in nature. It’s where she goes to clear her mind, reflect on her life, and reconnect with herself.

Embraces Change but Has Roots: Though she’s always moving forward and embracing new opportunities, Abby remains deeply connected to her past. She keeps mementos of her KND days, not out of nostalgia but because they serve as a reminder of how far she’s come. Change excites her, but she’s grounded by her roots.

A Solid Cook: Abby might have been more of a "grab-and-go" type as a kid, but as an adult, she’s developed an appreciation for cooking. She’s a skilled cook, enjoying making healthy meals or experimenting with new recipes. It's a way for her to unwind and feel like she’s taking care of herself.

Fluent in French, But Still Has an American Accent: Since moving to France for her internship, Abby has become fluent in French, embracing the culture and language with the same determination she once brought to her leadership role. However, her American accent still shines through, giving her a distinctive charm when speaking.

Slightly Heartbroken but Resilient: Her breakup with Hoagie was tough, especially because they had been together since high school. While she remains respectful and caring toward him, the distance and life changes forced them to grow apart. Abby sometimes feels the weight of that loss, but she knows it was a necessary step for both of them to grow in their own directions.

Still Keeps in Touch with Hoagie: Although she and Hoagie broke up, Abby and Hoagie still keep in touch. They talk occasionally and are supportive of each other from afar. Their conversations often involve updates on their respective lives—Abby’s time in France and Hoagie’s new projects. They’ll always have a strong friendship.

Henrietta Was Her Emotional Anchor: When Abby first moved to France, she felt isolated and struggled with homesickness. Henrietta (Henri) was her emotional anchor during that time, helping her adjust and find her place in a new country. Their friendship blossomed in a way that went beyond just being companions, and eventually, it turned into a romantic relationship.

Reconnecting with Henrietta Was Complicated: Though her relationship with Henrietta was once something Abby treasured, the breakup with Henrietta was messy. There were misunderstandings and unresolved emotions. Despite this, Abby acknowledges that their bond remains important, and she still cares deeply about Henrietta. They've both moved on but occasionally wonder what could’ve been.

Learning the Fine Art of Patience: Living abroad and having to adapt to a new culture has taught Abby patience. She's learning to slow down, take things one step at a time, and not rush through life as she once did. She’s discovered that patience doesn’t just apply to people, but also to her goals and ambitions, especially with her internship.

Involved in a Local Volunteer Program: In France, Abby has immersed herself in volunteering at a local community center. Whether it’s organizing charity events, teaching English to children, or helping run after-school programs, she’s found fulfillment in giving back to the community. It’s her way of connecting with people in a meaningful way while staying true to her values of helping others.

Guilty About Rekindling with Hoagie: When Abby returns and reconnects with Hoagie, the old spark between them quickly reignites, and they rekindle their romance. However, Abby is hit with a wave of guilt when she finds out Hoagie is dating Wally at the time. The thought of unintentionally breaking Wally’s heart tears her apart, especially since their friendship had meant so much to her growing up. She feels like she’s betrayed a friend and struggles with how to fix the situation without making it worse.

Trying to Make It Up to Wally: Abby is determined to make things right with Wally. She apologizes profusely, doing whatever she can to show him she values their friendship and his feelings. Whether it's helping him out with projects, spending quality time, or supporting him in his goals, she wants to demonstrate that she never intended to hurt him. She’s also trying to give him the space he needs to process everything.

Feels Like She's Lost Part of Herself: As Abby navigates her relationships with Hoagie and Wally, she feels like she’s lost part of her own identity in the process. She’s used to being a strong, independent leader, but this situation has made her question whether she’s really being true to herself. She starts seeking out new ways to rediscover who she is, both in her personal and professional life.

Engaged to Hoagie, but Still Navigating Their Relationship: After rekindling their romance, Hoagie eventually proposes to Abby, and she says yes. While she’s deeply in love with him, she’s still adjusting to the idea of long-term commitment after years of independence. She wants to make sure they’re both truly ready before rushing into marriage.

Majoring in International Business or Global Studies: Given Abby's time in France and her knack for leadership, she majors in International Business. Her experience abroad has sparked a passion for global markets and cross-cultural communications, leading her to pursue a career where she can bring people and ideas together from different countries. She’s also drawn to the idea of working for an international organization that focuses on improving communities globally.

Balancing Work and Love: Abby’s career in International Business demands a lot of travel, but she’s determined to make it work with Hoagie. They establish strong communication habits, always making time for each other no matter where she is in the world. Hoagie, being understanding and supportive, helps ground her when things get overwhelming.

She’s Financially Savvy and Invests in Startups: With her business acumen, Abby becomes skilled in managing money and investments. She starts investing in small, community-driven businesses, wanting to help young entrepreneurs get their start.

Still Has a Passion for Music and Culture: Despite her business-focused career, Abby still finds time to explore music, dance, and different cultures. She brings home unique instruments and records from her travels and sometimes drags Hoagie to dance classes just to keep things exciting.

Was Hesitant to Reconnect at First: When Abby moved back, she wasn’t sure where she fit in anymore. A lot had changed, and she didn’t want to intrude. Kuki was the first to reach out, excitedly pulling Abby back into her life without hesitation. It took some time, but Abby eased back into their friendship like no time had passed.

Becomes Kuki’s Go-To “Voice of Reason”: While Kuki is the heart of the group, Abby quickly becomes the grounded one who balances them out. Whenever Kuki gets too impulsive, Abby is the one to say, "Girl, let’s think this through first," while still supporting her ideas.

Forms a Strong Bond with the Other Girls: Kuki’s inner circle consists of loyal, fun-loving, and stylish women, and Abby—being both chill and confident—fits right in. She especially bonds with the more mature and career-driven members, as they share ambitions and professional goals.

Gets Dragged to “Girls' Nights” but Secretly Loves Them: Kuki loves planning elaborate girls’ nights, from spa days to karaoke and fashion show challenges. Abby pretends to be too cool for it, but deep down, she enjoys the chaos, the laughs, and the support system that comes with it.

“The Cool Aunt” of the Group: Some of Kuki’s friends have younger siblings or kids, and Abby naturally takes on the “cool aunt” role. She’s the one who teaches them how to be confident, gives life advice, and tells embarrassing-yet-educational stories from her own past.

Keeps the Peace During Petty Drama: Kuki’s friend group is full of strong personalities, so occasional disagreements are bound to happen. Abby is usually the one to step in, call out the nonsense, and get everyone to chill. She’s not afraid to say, "Y'all acting ridiculous—talk it out and move on."

Started a Personal Blog/Vlog About Business & Life Advice: Since she majored in international business, Abby decided to start a lowkey blog and vlog series where she shares business insights, personal finance tips, and life advice. It’s not flashy, but people appreciate her straight-to-the-point wisdom.

Got Really Good at Poker: During her business internship, Abby learned to play poker at social events. She’s weirdly good at it, and now she sometimes hosts poker nights with her friends—though they get mad when she wins all their snacks.

Still Uses Slang, but It’s More Refined Now: She doesn’t talk in the third person anymore, but she’s still got that smooth, effortless way of speaking—think cool older sister energy.

Has a Playlist for Every Mood: Whether she’s working, chilling, or hyping herself up, Abby has a perfectly curated playlist for the moment.

She’s Super Protective of Her Friends: If someone hurts Kuki, Wally, or anyone in her circle, Abby will make sure they regret it. She doesn’t play about her people.

[mukuchis]

THUNDER Interview ; Hello Future!!!

original tweet | text under the cut

Thank you all for being here today.

Please introduce yourselves one at a time.

Everyone: …

Um…

Hiromi: Ah! I’m sorry. We didn’t decide who would talk first. (Looking at the other members) What should we do?

Mikera: With the way things are going, you can just go first.

Akashi: If you’d please, Hiromi-san.

Hiromi: Going first doesn’t really suit me, but… This isn’t the time for that. I’m Hiromi, a candidate for Emerald. I’m basically the oldest one here. As you can see, I’m not really used to interviews yet, I’m terribly sorry for acting so unseemly. Thank you for having me.

Mikera: I’ll go next then. I’m Mikera, a candidate for Scarlet. I’m the youngest, but I’ve got the most potential. It’s a pleasure to meowt... (Coughs) to meet you.

Akashi: I’m Akashi, a candidate for Navy! It is an honor to be given such a wonderful opportunity today! I will do my utmost to introduce the wonderfulness of our song!

Meguru: I’m Meguru, his fellow candidate for Navy. It’s a pleasure to work with you.

Cate: I’m Cate, an Emerald candidate! Let’s talk a lot today! 

Thank you very much. Now then, please tell us about how you felt during the recording for “Hello Future!!!”.

Meguru: Let’s see. When I first heard the song… I felt that it was a lovely, warm song filled with energy. The rest of the members seemed perfectly suited for their roles, but I was somewhat anxious during the recording that I would not be able to represent the song properly.

Cate: You were? 

Mikera: I had no idea. 

Akashi: I thought having you perform the song made it all the more varied. Almost as if it added a mature charm to it… Also, it was refreshing to hear you speak faster than usual!

Meguru: If you believe I was able to present a fresh side of myself, then I’ll consider myself lucky to have been a part of this.

Cate: Akashi’s soprano was great too! 

Hiromi: Yeah. It carries further than I expected.

Akashi: Thank you very much! 

Hiromi: What else… The breathing in the chorus was quite hard.

Mikera: To be honest, it was difficult because we had to maintain the precise rhythm. 

Cate: But you got the parts down right away, it was super suuuper awesome!

Mikera: Well, duh. But weren’t you the one who could express the song the best? 

Cate: Huh?! Cate was?

Mikera: The “To someday make that dream come true” part captured your personality perfectly. It was really exciting.

Cate: Wahhh… Thanks!

Mikera: It’s nothing. I’m just stating the truth.

Meguru: Hiromi suddenly had to start practicing the lower parts, didn’t he. 

Hiromi: That’s right. I was shocked at how quickly that happened.

Mikera: It was actually supposed to be me, Akashi, and Cate at the start of the song, but the staff suggested that we add a bass part to it.

Meguru: He managed to make it his own after only a few practice sessions, though. I’d say that is a true testament to his adaptability.

Hiromi: Having you praise me directly is kinda embarrassing, Meguru-san…

Meguru: Hoh. Should I try to embarrass you even more, then?

Hiromi: Huh!?

Akashi: Let’s save that for later. We’re in the middle of an interview right now.

Meguru: Ah, yes, that’s quite true. I will look forward to it later.

Hiromi: Huh…

Lastly, please share a message with all the Glanz. 

Hiromi: Thank you for listening to our album. Taking on an electropop song with the members here turned out to be a great experience. Wearing that kind of clothing for the first time for the shoot was fun as well. 

Akashi: The costumes had a futuristic feel to them. I was thinking that my sleeves were quite short. 

Mikera: Don’t you have anything else to add?

Meguru: Although Mikera normally gets mad when compared to a cat, I was impressed to see him respond immediately to the requests that were made of him during the shooting. I would say Glanz should burn his adorable poses in their minds.

Mikera: Hold it, you’re embarrassing me this time. Stop it.

Cate: We gotta work really reeeally hard to bring you all mooore and more of Cate and friends! Glanz, thank you always~~ I love you! 

Mikera: We’ll keep fighting with all we have moving forwards, so we hope you’ll keep on supporting us.

[torndesires]

𝓐ni moved through the haze of perfume and sweat, the low bass of the music vibrating under her stilettos with every step. the club pulsed around her like a living thing— hot, crowded, dimly lit, and full of men who were either too eager or far too used to being here. her vape rested between her fingers, a familiar comfort as she took another slow inhale, the soft glow of it lighting up her face for a brief second before she exhaled a lazy puff into the air.

women have needs too. she thought to herself with a smirk tugging at the corner of her lips. tonight wasn’t just about putting on a show— she wanted something for herself, too. something fun. something that didn’t just feel like another transaction in glitter and lingerie. her doe-like eyes scanned the crowd as she walked, hips swaying under a dangerously short, sparkling dress that clung to her like it was stitched from starlight. her long tinsel hair fell like silk down her back, catching every flicker of light, shimmering as if it had a heartbeat of its own. glitter dusted her eyelids and cheekbones, eyeliner winged sharp, lips slicked in a glossy, seductive red. beneath the dress, glimpses of black lace peeked through the slit— an intentional tease.

most of the crowd, as usual, was made up of men who had clearly crossed lines long before they ever entered the club. wedding rings still on, button-down shirts undone just enough to look pathetic. she saw them all— hungry, desperate, lost. some of the girls didn’t care. rent was due, mouths needed feeding, and survival came before pride. ani never judged them. hell, she was here too, wasn’t she? ⠀ she let out a small, amused breath— half a scoff, half a chuckle— as she watched one man nearly collapse just from a whisper in his ear.

god, men are sooooooo easy.

she turned away, raising her vape for one last drag, but then— she saw him. a face she didn’t recognize. not like the others. and ani noticed.

her gaze lingered far too long, shamelessly tracing over his figure— the way he stood, the way his frame filled the room without even trying. even in six-inch heels, he towered over her, and that alone made her breath catch. his jaw, his shoulders, his hands. jesus, his fucking hands. her thoughts spiraled. she shouldn’t be thinking about how they’d feel on her hips, on her thighs, along her back. ⠀ it’s just work.. ⠀ she reminded herself. it’s just a dance.

but he looked younger than the rest— fresh, like this place hadn’t sunk its teeth into him yet. that was rare. dangerous, maybe. tempting, definitely. ⠀ quickly, she slipped the vape against the side of her g-string, letting the cool metal press against her skin, barely hidden under the thin strap of her panties.

and just like that, she shifted— slipping into the version of herself that men paid to see. her heels clicked through the music as she approached ⠀ @exheists, ⠀ every step deliberate, every movement laced with intention. her expression soft but sly, she popped her gum once before smiling, glossy lips stretching into something both sweet and suggestive. ⠀ ❛ hey, handsome— looking for a private? ❜ ⠀ her voice purred low, just above the music, leaning toward his ear while still keeping a respectful distance. seduction was an art, but consent was her rule.

❛ you look like you’re new.. ❜ ⠀ her fingers grazed the edge of his jacket with calculated ease. ⠀ ❛ if so— i could give you a personal discount for that. ❜ ⠀ her tone melted between sweet and sultry, tainting her brooklyn accent, a promise coated in velvet.

and still, beneath all of it—her practiced smile, the confident sway of her hips, the tease in her voice—there was that flicker of something real. curiosity. who was he? what was he doing here? and why couldn’t she stop imagining the feel of his hands all over her skin?