#kwxeden

[kwkota]

would you be the romantic lead in my self-written short novel that's totally not based on our little outing?❤️

the question has him raising a brow before chuckling softly, the corner of his lip curving up into a slight smirk. "who is the other lead in this story that's not based off of our outing? if it's you, then i'm all for it of course." he pauses momentarily. "and if you need anymore 'inspiration' for the rest of your story, we can always go out on more outings. i hear that there's plenty of locations that are perfect for these moments."

[kwcory]

keeping everything inside

     the festival had been fun. 

    did cory do much at it festival wise? not really. he did a lot of back ground work for student government and for his club and team. running around making sure things were okay. the cafe for the dance team took up a lot of his morning as well--as much as he dreaded the whole concept he can’t say it wasn’t fun. embarrassing, but fun. he had even found the time to stop for a moment and watch @kwxeden and his band perform for a song. they had done well, and eden had shined on the stage. not that cory was surprised.

      he wouldn’t admit that out loud of course. 

     and now the festival was nearing the big ending. he had heard there was going to something super cool after the performances or maybe it was during the last performance. he hadn’t plaid that much attention to what was going to be happening. since he knew he would be dealing with the baseball teams clean up.

     the price to pay when you have a busy schedule though he isn’t really upset. large crowds are not really his thing so he much prefers this. helping clean up and being out of the way of everyone. he even waved off the help from a couple other baseball team mates. telling them to go have fun while they have the chance. he didn’t mind being the one to get it all put up. didn’t mind the muffled noise in the distance as he worked in quiet. finally managing to gather all the baseball gear into a box and start off to the storage.

      maybe he should have paid closer attention to what was happening. glanced at the end schedule for the festival or listened when someone was talking about it. he would have been prepared for the startlingly loud noise that rocks the area. the box in his hands almost dropping as he flinches. 

[kwhayun]

— i’ve got your back ;

backdated to april 2022 with @kwxeden !

     it’s been almost a year and a half since the fateful day that had changed his entire life. almost a year and a half and there are still good days and bad days. there are good days when he feels almost normal and he can go back to light training for taekwondo, though there’s no way that he can hold the poses and move in the way he did before the accident — not yet. there’s still a lot of core strength he has to rebuild before he can consider that kind of possibility. 

     there are bad days, where movements make soreness evident, and everything he does feels like an overextension of injured muscles. but still he persists, because one of the worst things to do is to let his pain dictate his movement for the day — it’s better for him to slowly work his way through the pain and push the boundaries so he can adjust. 

     but then there are really bad days. days when he wakes up in the morning and can barely even breathe with how much everything hurts. even the smallest shift causes him pain, and the most he can do is lie in bed and try to get through the day. 

     today is one of those really bad days. his eyes blink open and he can already feel the throbbing in his back, and trying to roll over onto his side sends a wave of pain so intense through him that he clenches his teeth in an effort not to cry out. he squeezes his eyes shut, resigning himself to the fact that he simply won’t be able to go to class today. apologizing to his professors in his mind, he closes his eyes again, giving back into the only thing he can do today — sleep.

[kwseongbin]

the best laid plans.

@kwxeden

he’s not usually a devious guy. maybe that’s why he’s apparently so bad at making devious plans.

it was supposed to be simple: convince eden that coach had suddenly called a team meeting in the gym. make sure he has his work keyring on him. lock eden in the gym, and suddenly the band has no lead guitarist for tonight’s practice. seongbin takes his spot, everyone likes him better, and he’s the band’s new official lead guitar. eden gets demoted to rhythm guitar. everyone (except for eden, possibly) is happy.

but of course things never work out how seongbin plans them to. of course now would be the time when an unusual bout of bad luck suddenly decides to curse a usually pretty lucky guy. he realized far too late into executing the plan that his work keys are sitting on his desk in his dorm, not in his backpack like he thought they were. and unfortunately, they’re already in the gym. which is now locked. and seongbin can’t get out of without his keys.

really, he did this to himself. he has no one else to blame. but, somehow, he still feels the need to blame eden for this.

he’s not exactly sure what to do now. does he fess up to his plan? does he play it off like he’s just as confused as eden is why the rest of the baseball team isn’t here? he decides on something in between: a truth and a lie; yes, he meant to get eden here and lock him in, but no, it had nothing to do with the band and was just a funny prank idea he had as a good ol’ friend, haha. nothing more, of course!

“shit,” seongbin lets out a curse, shaking the gymnasium door and listening to the hinges rattle. unfortunately, they build these things too strong to try to break down. not that he’s tried. “this was supposed to be funny. i was gonna leave you here and let myself out and then tell everyone you were dead or something. like, a joke, a prank. but i don’t have my keys.” he scowls at the offending door even if he’s talking to eden. “i’m so stupid.”

he tries searching his bag one more time, checking each and every one of his pockets, to no avail. he knows where they are; right next to where he charges his phone so he wouldn’t forget them. that helped so much, apparently. it settles that he’s trapped in a room with eden. possibly indefinitely, or at least until tomorrow morning when the athletics director comes to open up the building for the day. at least it’s not a small room; seongbin can sit on the opposite side of the gym and sulk if he really wants to. more than anything, he’s just embarrassed. and maybe a bit worried; he didn’t eat dinner and he’s gonna get pretty damn hungry if they don’t find a way out of here.

[yohankw]

haunting with @kwxeden

yohan rubs at his face, exhaustion clearly written in every line of his body. but as much as he wants to do nothing more than lay down and sleep, he knows he can't. he has a big project due in a few days and the melody of his assignment haunts him, stuck in his head but seemingly just out of reach for him to actually bring it to life. he'd gotten frustrated earlier after hours spent logged in front of various open windows of music samples and programs on his laptop. and after sitting hunched over, he'd gotten up with the intention of walking down to the convenience store for a drink or snack. 

but he hasn't made it that far yet, instead he's been wandering the halls of the music building for a while now lost in thought and humming to himself. every time yohan thinks he's managed to pin down his melody it escapes him again, leaving him to almost cry in frustration before stubbornly gritting his teeth and continue his pacing in hopes it'll come back to him again. 

but as the hours race by it's nearing 3 am now and he's so tired that he might actually starting crying soon if he doesn't lay down and rest. lucky for him though the halls are pretty vacant and it's safe to say he's probably the only one left here, which thank god because the last thing he needs is for someone else to see him like this. with his hair messy and sticking up from hours of running his fingers through it that paired with his favorite black hoodie that practically swamps his frame (which is saying something) and a ratty pair of sweatpants that are his softest pair. he's literally a solid definition of stressed university student but that doesn't mean he wants strangers to perceive him this way. 

as yohan turns another corner, he nearly walks straight into an open door that he swears was shut a few minutes ago. 

[kwhansol]

out of reach.

Starter for @kwxeden !

Hansol’s addicted to the feeling of a heavy bass vibrating through his veins—from the tippy-tips of his toes, to the ends of his ruffled hair. He loses himself in the music, as if every part of him gets swept out to sea and torn apart by waves of synths and guitar riffs, yet it’s peaceful, as if he’s returning to where he came from; a full circle of life. Where the music ends, he begins. 

He can feel it now, a tingling beat in his fingertips as he dances with his arms over his head, eyes closed as he sways. The heat of bodies swaying and bouncing around him envelopes him in a warm embrace, and he finds his mind wandering from it’s comfortable, empty fuzziness, to thoughts of Eden. He thinks of his embrace; something he’d come to grow too familiar with. He must be here, he thinks, eyes flicking open to scour the room he’s stood in. 

He’s not sure how long he’d been stood there in the middle of the crowd of dancing people, or even who’s party this is, all he knows is that he’s not holding a drink anymore, and that he wants to find Eden. He doesn’t know if Eden came to the party, but he’s determined to look for him at least, just in case. Maybe he’ll even pick up another drink as he makes his way through the house. 

Every room’s packed, filled to the brim with people—some in pairs, making out in dimly lit corners, some alone, drinking, or dancing, or both. This is where Hansol’s grown to feel comfortable. His hunting ground. It was at a party like this that he’d met Eden, when he’d stumbled upon him in his eagerness to get away from an overly touchy guy Hansol had no interest in. But where was Eden now, when Hansol needed him to save him from his own loneliness? 

Eventually he finds himself with a red cup filled to the brim with some dubious liquid, wandering along a corridor, and as he turns the corner at the end he spots him. Eden. “Edie!” He calls out. The rug beneath his feet feels as though it carries him along the hallway, stopping right in front of the man that’s lingered in Hansol’s mind all night. He wobbles a little, and lifts a hand to grip Eden’s bicep, steadying himself with a coy smile. “I’ve been looking for you. Did you... come alone?”