#also drawing this will give me a chance to be crazy abt them

[kaz-less]

points and shrieks like insane monkey

i need to draw this as linda and henry IMMEDIATELY

[subskz]

…i lost the tag limit war

the reader changing the subject the instant she feels seen by minho is such a subtle but valuable hint that i think says a lot abt the type of person she is, that moment really stood out to me! i know i literally just said this but right down to every minute detail, you've characterized both lino and the reader so masterfully it has to be the most enjoyable aspect of this story for me...and on top of that i just love how you write their conversations so much, they’re both such lil nerds…my intellectually stimulating smarties debating w each other even now 🥰 it all feels so comfortable and natural and draws me into their relationship w such ease!

their discussion abt colors is hands down one of my favorite scenes in all of invisible thread!! it's such an oddly heartwarming conversation and that perfect, out-of-the-box way of thinking that’s just so undeniably minho...it almost reminds me of synesthesia how he describes feelings through color! "the very essence of our humanity" "the orange that paints the sky when the sun is about to dip into the ocean" the way you embodied each colors through emotions/experiences was so wonderfully done, i understood each one instantly like it was a picture being visualized before my eyes. it makes it even more touching that minho and the reader come to understand each other on a whole new level through that way of communicating their moods <3 and for some reason when he gives the example "i feel like that moss green that no one seems to pay attention to" that really tugged at my heartstrings ㅠ it almost feels like he isnt just giving a hypothetical there, like he's giving a small glimpse into his true feelings without saying it outright. maybe he feels invisible deep down, too

them falling asleep together on facetime was so soft and tender ㅠㅠ leave it to lino to ramble abt sous-vide as a bedtime story and complain abt getting SCAMMED lmao the way that is actually smth he would say 😭 "he closes his eyes, thinking that maybe he just found the silence you talked about earlier on" this line got me so good ): it seems at first that he's bringing the reader peace but she's bringing him peace in her own way as well...her feelings abt his eyes changing from fear to longing is such a lovely detail and HER COMPLIMENTING THEM!!! HIS STUNNED REACTION </3 "this is the first genuine compliment he's ever received" oh my god does my moss green theory actually have any merit.....does he really feel invisible to the world too...do not do this to me sahar ㅠㅠ but the way he thinks such lovely, adoring things abt the reader in that moment but instead of voicing them he whines abt being hungry....so endearing and so HIM i cant get enough of how youve written minho here ur singlehandedly reminding me why he is allegedly the love of my life

the kintsugi mention made my heart leap in my chest!!! "when you look at that vase, you know it was once broken, but it doesn't take away from its beauty" please...that sentence in itself is so moving when you apply it to the context of what the reader has been through her whole life, not just a single crack but repeated breakages. and for it to come from someone like minho; it feels like exactly what the reader needs to hear to truly begin to heal herself...he doesn't coddle her but is still so gentle, putting things into perspective like nobody else can w his unique worldview and mental strength ㅠㅠ and i think i just lost my mind realizing that this scene loops right back to the clay comparison you drew at the beginning of the story oh my GOD....the reader is like a clay pot molded by her mother, broken in places and repaired over and over to create smth still damaged but just as valuable...and lino is the gold filling in the cracks....sahar you are INSANE for this one im kissing ur brain and tucking it gently into bed

the scene w minho in the rain 😞 i was not prepared to see my meow meow upset...but i love the way you wrote it so much. how oddly quiet he is, even to the point where he's not commenting in class or teasing her, and that's the key detail that lets the reader know smth's off w him...i also love that nothing in particular caused his low mood. it's such a human quality, and he allows himself to be human and feel his feelings until they pass. "he knew his emotions would regulate themselves" i cant explain why this line stood out to me so much i really love it, i think it's just such a shining example of minho's mindset...not necessarily optimistic, but practical enough to not be completely swamped by the darkness either. it creates such an interesting contrast to the reader's personality to see how they both handle their emotions, w her pushing hers away and him letting them run their course. but the fact that he typically tries to retreat into himself until he feels better, yet strangely enough, he doesn't mind it as much as he'd expect when the reader catches him in a vulnerable state...my babies ㅠ i also really loved the part where he uses her shower and thinks abt the scent of her soap as he washes up, it's so so sweet n intimate i'm such a sucker for things like that ): there are so many small things minho notices abt her like it's the most natural thing in the world, they're both so attentive of one another

"you were both just trying to make it through the day" and "he knew he wasn't invisible. at least not to you" were critical hits to my heart...it feels like a breakthrough in their relationship—the first time the reader truly truly sees minho, all sides of him, and she accepts them all without question <3

the gradual progression of their friendship is so gratifying to read bc of how organically you made it all flow together!! i adore the entire sequence that shows us how they start to care for each other more and more…the casual intimacy of the reader applying her lip tint to his lips (and him not studying for his quiz on purpose 😭💗 come ON) lino worrying abt her eating enough, the reader tying his bangs out of his eyes, complimenting him so matter-of-factly, and him BLUSHING ALL OVER THE PLACE it’s so over for me x2 they are so tender in their actions even when they tease each other nonstop. it all leads up so perfectly to the point in the story where minho finds himself being drawn to her apartment without even realizing it when he doesn't feel well. the subtle shift from him initially trying to shut her out bc he's so used to managing his bad days on his own, to him eventually leaning in to her kindness and seeking her company instead...and the way she just understands what he needs immediately, allows him to sit in silence and simply exist in peace next to her. describing his mood as "too much of every color" really struck a chord w me as well...i'm just so so in love w the running theme of colors you included throughout this story, it's such a brilliant way to put emotions into words <3

the lil parallels here n there from the beginning of their relationship until now are so cute as well; how lino makes breakfast for her the first time and leaves before she wakes up, but this time, he promises to stay and eat with her...to not be invisible ㅠㅠ i think what's making me craziest of all is how they're both so hyperaware of each other's touch. like when their shoulders brushed while sharing the reader's umbrella, how the reader suddenly finds it difficult to concentrate on her book when lino holds her wrist as she shields him from the sunlight...and little does she know it's the exact same for him too, like when she rested her head on his thigh and all he could focus on was the sensation of her hair tickling him 😭 they are so enamored w each other and have become so tangled up in each other little by little...they don't even fully realize it yet but they've made a permanent place in each other's lives now

"you were already on the other side, you realize. his eyes pulled you in and you were stuck in there, swimming in a pool of honey" oh my GOD!!! ㅠㅠㅠㅠ her feelings abt minho's eyes changing from fear, to longing, to at last the comfort of getting to see the other side of those black holes...this line hit me like a truck it might be my favorite from the entire fic ㅠ i have a feeling i'll be saying that abt many more lines to come when you verbalize things in the most poetic ways imaginable heheh but this one truly got me so good, the delicacy in which you describe minho makes the reader's growing affection for him all the more heart-fluttering~

minho hesitating to wipe her tears )): the way he's so careful abt touching her in any unwarranted way bc he can sense that she shies away from skinship is so devastatingly sweet...and then him pinching her right after to make her stop crying NEVERMIND I CANT STAND HIM ACTUALLY. but the way he consoles her is so endearing and so so minho...very simple and sincere, he knows her well enough to immediately figure out the best way to take her mind off of the issue instead of dwelling on it. "you didn't care what shape he was in, you just needed him to be in it" i've already pointed out so many lines oh my god i'm so sorry but each one is like another arrow through my heart ㅠㅠ i feel like this sentence is such a perfect testament to the reader and lino's relationship; they've both seen each other at their best and worst and it doesn't change anything abt their feelings, they care for each other unconditionally 😞 also the reader being afraid of physical touch bc she craves it is SO heartbreaking but so raw...i think it aligns so well w her past bc she's so used to either being invisible, or only being perceived negatively when she is perceived. it makes perfect sense how terrifying she'd find it to bare herself to minho when her whole life she's been deprived of genuine affection...you've really done such a phenomenal job of characterizing both her and lino i cant say it enough!

now...the entire final scene...where do i even begin...i had a feeling the climax of the story was going to hurt but not like this ㅠㅠ the reader's inner turmoil as she debates reaching out to her mother again, that conflicting mix of hating her yet somehow still missing her...it's such an inexplicable and confusing feeling for ppl who have experienced that kind of neglect but so so real and you captured it so candidly. it really added a whole new layer to the reader's humanity, for her to be unable to completely let go of their relationship no matter how painful it is to hold on to...for her to cling to the hope that maybe she could be worth smth to her mother if she did everything right ): i genuinely had the exact same reaction as her when you revealed that her mother had deleted her phone number...it felt precisely like a bucket of ice cold water to the head. the reader trying to pinpoint the exact moment in time where her mother stopped loving her was what really crushed me most...what a heart-wrenching sentence ㅠㅠ the fact that she's tried to hard to find solace in other places and people and tried to grow into her own person after entering university, but even so, those marks left from her childhood are still there...a vase full of cracks 💔 as much as it hurts to read, i love that you included this bump in the road of her healing journey and made a point to highlight that healing isn't linear

and minho 😭😭😭😭😭 the way he handled the reader's outburst is so touching...the way he's immediately able to recognize that her feelings are misplaced and smth much deeper is going on beyond what he sees on the surface...using that astuteness to put his own feelings to the side in the moment is so minho. this entire scene is just blossoming with powerful lines i can't forget, but i was especially affected by the reader saying "i'd need you and i can't afford to need someone else." it's such a tragic summarization of her in my opinion...how she went her whole life being unable to rely on anyone but herself, so the moment she's faced w minho, all her instincts say to reject it no matter how badly she craves that intimacy ㅠㅠ and lino saying "i'll be by your side for as long as you'll have me" is such a beautiful declaration of love...it's so selfless and unconditional, and it fits so seamlessly w how their relationship progressed throughout the story, how they were by each other's sides at their best and worst moments.

"the world doesn't stop because we need it to" "we'll make it stop" and then describing their kiss as like "seeing color for the first time"...i'm going to melt into an inconsolable puddle over all these callbacks to their first date together don't think i didn't catch the ways you weaved those in throughout this final scene..you made it feel so complete, like things have come full circle. i already mentioned how much i loved their conversation abt describing colors to the blind, so for their first kiss to be written that way, like the reader was blind to the true color of the world until she met minho....i am going to be ill that is so intensely romantic sahar ㅠㅠㅠㅠ

"he was the invisible thread stitching your wounds back together." another heartaching line ): what a way to personify the quiet love minho provides...it may be invisible to everyone else, but not to her

i'm so sorry for my horrifically long comment haha but i'm just thrilled i was finally able to read this beautiful fic 😞 just as i'd predicted, you're a phenomenal writer!! the amount of love and effort you poured into it went above and beyond, i hope you're so proud of yourself for creating such a stunning work!! it's very clear to me how every interaction you wrote between minho and the reader was so carefully thought out and so meaningful to the overarching theme of the story, it's all done with care and purpose and there's smth special to be found in each line of dialogue! it's like you carefully stacked more and more on to the foundation of their bond until before we know it, there's an entire home there that they built steadily together. that kind of subtle progression is my absolute favorite thing. i'm also so blown away by how the reader's mother, though never actually making an appearance until the final scene, has such an heavy impact over the narrative. it's like she's a ghost haunting the reader's every action, every decision, every inner thought...i find it so impressive how you were able to incorporate that effect into the story without us even needing to meet the mother! and i must've mentioned countless lines that stuck w me throughout the fic, but just know that there are countless more i could've pointed out as well...you truly write so so beautifully. so poetic and emotive, but also not so flowery that it becomes hard to follow, i'm truly floored by your ability to achieve that perfect balance! on top of the story being so immersive in itself, your writing style made invisible thread such a genuine delight to read <3

this feels like the kind of story i'll be thinking abt for a long time after finishing it, the kind to revisit over n over bc i'm sure there are so many lil easter eggs you included that i may have missed! i'm positive i'll come back to it many times in the future hehe...but i can't wait to read more of your writing as well! ^_^

Invisible thread- one

pairing : minho x reader

genre : university au, academic rivals to lovers (rivals not enemies because they respect each other), slow burn, fluff, angst.

warnings : reader has a very bad relationship with her mother, insecurities, talk about murder but as a joke, mention of alcohol, reader has she/her pronouns.

summary : Your studies were your lifeline for as long as you can remember. What happens when Minho comes into your life and rips it away from you?

word count : 20k

Author's note : I've been working on this fic on and off for the past two months, so if you do enjoy reading, please let me know. asks, comments, reblogs i read them all and they truly make me the happiest <3 (also i based this off my own college experience, where we study two terms and there is one person on top of the class every semester)

part two

You have always been first in your class.

Not because you particularly enjoyed studying. You simply felt that your worth was solely tied to the marks on your papers.

You never wanted to crumble under the pressure of studies, to hole yourself up in your room for an assignment you won’t remember in a month. But achieving good grades was the only way for you to feel seen; to make someone stop in their tracks and acknowledge you. 

A simple “good job” that you preserved inside your mind, as a reminder that you did exist to other people. Considering that the majority of your life was spent in silence. 

Your mom put a roof above your head and food on your table, but she never asked about your day, nor did she seem to care. You felt as though you were no more important to her than the tapestry hanging on your wall.

At times, you imagined that if you stood close enough to that tapestry, you could merge with it as one. The intricate embroidery would wrap around you and draw you in. And your mother wouldn’t notice. She would regard you with the same indifference she showed towards that textile- a mere decoration, at times a nuisance when she had to dust it.

You always ate your dinner alone. When you scraped your knee, you tended to the wound by yourself. No one attended your childhood musicals, and you patted your back when you cracked an egg without dropping a shell into the bowl. 

You’ve come to learn since your young age that all your milestones, both small and significant, would be celebrated alone. 

On the rare times your mother would acknowledge your presence, she’d unleash a flurry of criticism your way as if she was eagerly awaiting the opportunity to strike you down. She'd toss crude comments over her shoulder as easily as a casual hello, leaving you feeling battered and bruised in her wake. 

You felt as if you were shoreline rocks, and your mother was the ocean. You never knew if she would be like a gentle tide, barely brushing against you, or an enraged storm, mercilessly crashing down on your being. And you weren't sure which one was worse: to be invisible or to be seen and despised.  

That’s why you grew up plagued with self-doubt. You made friends throughout your school years but you never allowed them to get close enough to really see you -you feared that they might glimpse the very thing your mother seemed to despise in you. 

Throughout your childhood, you were like soft clay in your mother's hands- pliable, and easy to mold. And she indented you, everywhere, carved in edges and dips where they should not have been ones. Handled you roughly when you should have been treated with care. And as the years went by, you hardened- much like clay, but her touch remained imprinted upon you. It was difficult at times to discern who you were and who she made you to be.

You tried to start anew when you went away to university; to rewire your brain into believing that you were enough- you exist and you shouldn't prove to anyone that you deserved to be alive. But her words haunted you, they were like skeletons in your closet- but the closet was you. You could never part from them.

So, you fell back into the same pattern of seeking good grades and congratulatory words from your professors. Every A+ you got infused you with a momentary sense of worthiness.

But unlike in high school, you weren't always the best. Your competition came in the form of a single man named Minho, who seemed to excel in every class you shared.

Minho was mostly quiet, but whenever he spoke, you found that his words carried weight. Your professors consistently agreed with his points, and you envied the confidence he exuded. You wondered what it must feel like to be so sure of oneself.

It wasn't until a month into the year that you had your first interaction with Minho. You were in your Constitutional Law class when your professor Kim brought up the notion of ‘Separation of Powers’. You were arguing that judges shouldn’t be included in the writings of law when you heard a scoff from the row behind you. You turned around, raising a brow at the culprit, "Is there something you’d like to say?" you asked.

And in response, Minho smiled lazily, an air of smugness surrounding him, "I just don’t agree." The professor urged him to explain himself, so he leaned back into his chair, eyeing you. "Judges are the ones who practice the law every day, and sometimes they find that none of the written texts fit their case. If they get involved in lawmaking, they can help address those gaps or uncertainties." 

"Who's to say that those judges aren’t biased or politically motivated? They’ll end up writing laws to fit their own preferences," you pointed out, raising an eyebrow at him. "We elect judges to interpret and apply laws, not make them. If they start writing laws too, we'll be violating the separation of powers between the legislative and judicial branches. That's what keeps our entire system from crumbling."

Minho rested his chin on his hand, tapping his cheek thoughtfully with his index finger. "Aren’t legislators prone to biases too? Your point doesn’t stand then," he challenged, tilting his head to the side, "and judges can participate without going overboard. They can provide input on proposed laws without actually drafting them. That way, we ensure that the laws are crafted with a clear understanding of how they'll be put into practice." 

"If your main concern is to ensure that the laws are impartial, we have people who work as consulting experts whose job is exactly that," you flashed him an innocent smile, firing back. "Also, wouldn’t these overstepping branches put the judges in a position to be perceived in a bad light? Is that what you want?"

Before Minho could respond, Mr. Kim intervened, putting an end to your debate, "Let's save this energy for your essays and see who can convince me more."

You gave a quick nod, swiveling in your seat without a backward glance. However, you could sense Minho’s gaze penetrating through your back- as if he was trying to read your most intimate thoughts. 

That was the first thing you noticed about Minho when he walked over to you. His eyes were brown, not a special color by any means. But they held a certain depth to them that seemed to draw you in like a black hole. You weren't sure what you would find on the other side, nor did you have any desire to find out.

He outstretched his hands towards you, stopping you in your tracks. "Minho," he introduced and your hand met his in a firm grip. The second thing you noticed about him was the coldness of his hand, as it wrapped tightly around your palm. 

Suddenly you were taken back to when you built a snowman for the first and last time. You were just seven and the ice was freezing, numbing your fingers as you worked. Your mother never told you that you should’ve worn mittens, or a thick jacket to fight off the cold when she saw you walking out of the house. The memory of your cold hands and the horrible illness that followed still left a bitter taste in your mouth, like an unripe fruit. With a jolt you dropped his hand, forcefully pulling yourself away from that memory. 

"Yn," you said back, and he smiled to himself, repeating your name slowly, each syllable dripping from his tongue.  

"We'll see who'll write the best essay, right?" he asked, clearly challenging you. There was a gleam of excitement in his eyes that reminded you of a child gazing up at cotton candy. 

That was the third thing you noticed about Minho; how expressive his eyes were. They moved with his every word, punctuating them. 

He was infuriating but also amusing. You've never had a clear competitor in your life. Or maybe you had, but you didn't notice them. You were always so reclined on yourself, trying to survive the day, you didn't pay enough attention to your surroundings.

"You want to compete with me?" You asked, and he smirked, leaning against the door, arms crossed in front of his chest. "What? Scared you’d lose?"

"Please." You rolled your eyes at his taunting, "Don’t come crying when I win."

"We’ll see about that!" He shouted after you as you walked ahead, leaving him behind.

This essay was insignificant. A simple way for your professor to assess your knowledge and work approach. And yet, you found yourself staying up all night to complete it. There was no way you were going to let Minho take this one thing from you.

Who were you if not the best in your studies? You were deathly afraid to find out. 

Later on that week, the professor handed you your grade back, 98%. You turned around to show Minho your mark, and so did he. You surpassed him, only by mere percents. "I told you so," you smiled cheekily and he pouted, holding a hand to his heart as if your grade wounded him.

"I'll beat you next time", he mouthed and you chuckled, "Whatever helps you sleep at night."

✹✹✹

The first time you studied with Minho was in a cat café near campus, called Limbo, about two weeks after your initial interaction. You stumbled upon it serendipitously while strolling through your university town. You couldn’t study at home, since you were easily distracted in there, and the eerie silence of libraries often left you unsettled.

Limbo, however, offered the perfect middle-ground: it was calm, not overly crowded, and the buzzing of the coffee machine blended harmoniously with the occasional mewls of cats, which helped you concentrate better. 

You were sitting in a secluded corner table at the café's back, a sleeping black cat comfortably nestled in your lap when you sensed a shadow loom over you. You glanced up quickly to find Minho. He was clad in a grey hoodie sporting a bunny holding up its middle finger. You had to bite your cheek to suppress a grin at his clothing attire.

"What are you doing here?" He asked. 

"You know for someone smart you sure ask stupid questions," you remarked, already looking down at the papers scattered in front of you.

He huffed, taking a seat at the table right next to yours, "I can’t believe that of all places you’ve found this café to study in."

"My apologies, am I disturbing you, your highness?" You asked sarcastically, and in retort, Minho mimicked your words in a high-pitched tone. You threw the pillow right next to you at his head, and Minho swiftly ducked, easily avoiding it. He chuckled loudly while you glared at his laughing figure. That was the end of your conversation that day. 

From that moment forward, it became a routine for the two of you to study at Limbo, every Saturday, without fault. You didn’t explicitly plan on it, but it seemed that both of you found it comforting to work there. And you could also tell that, unlike you, it wasn’t Minho’s first time coming to Limbo. He was friends with the owner, a sweet middle-aged man who offered you pastries whenever you stayed there until closing. The cats seemed to know him too, they mewled at his feet whenever he entered and he always greeted them with a soft smile on his face. 

You didn’t talk much in those unofficial study sessions, the both of you were consumed by your own work. But you’d steal quick glances at him every now and then, the sight of him so concentrated only fueled you to work harder.

Admittedly, your competition left you feeling anxious for days on end at first. Each time Minho came out on top, you’d found yourself losing your grip. Your studies have been the one anchor keeping you afloat your entire life, and now, Minho was ripping it carelessly away from you. So, you resented him- you were human after all.

But then, you realized that Minho’s taunting wasn’t malicious. He wasn’t competing with you to hurt you, he was doing it for amusement only.

You've slowly started to learn that despite his relentless teasing, Minho had a gentle aura surrounding him. Glimpses of which occasionally emerged like rays of sunshine piercing through a thick cloud cover.

True, he chuckled when you accidentally bumped your head on the table while retrieving a fallen pen. Yet, you also noticed how he began to cover the table's corners with his hand whenever you bent down. He swiftly retracted his hand, seemingly believing you didn't notice, but you did.

During class presentations, he deliberately prepared challenging questions for you, urging you to study twice as hard to ensure no stone was left unturned. Yet, whenever the professor praised your performance, Minho offered a subtle thumbs-up as a gesture of support. He winked at you each time he got the right answer and you didn’t. However, when he noticed you struggling with a particular subject, he scooted closer and patiently explained it to you. He got up before you could thank him, swatting his arm in the air as if he didn’t do anything of significance. 

To show your appreciation, you bought him a drink that day he helped you—a simple gesture that sparked an ongoing game of "win a bet, get free food". You bet on who would receive the first mark on an assignment or who would finish an essay first- anything to further deepen the competition between you.

That's how you came to know that he loved puddings, among other things.

Curiously, as the months went by, your mind began to retain these little details about him. How his eyelashes fluttered like butterfly wings when he blinked repeatedly during your conversations. How he glanced at the ceiling when lost in deep thought as if he was waiting for the answers to descend from the sky. Or how his lips take on the shape of an "o" while thinking of his response during one of your many debates. But you supposed that it was natural to take notice of such things when you spend countless Saturday afternoons with the same person.

You were still studying for someone else, in the sense that each time you stayed up working, it was solely to prove your worth to Minho. But at least unlike your mother, Minho's words never haunted you at night.

✹✹✹

Just like that, four months have gone by since you joined your university as a law major. It was nearing finals week and you were preparing it at Limbo. Minho was naturally present too, at his usual table right next to yours.

On the last weekend before the beginning of your finals, you were head-deep into your Criminal Law documents when Minho abruptly got up from his seat and settled in the chair in front of you.

"Yn," he whispers and you glance at him, "What?" 

"I have an idea."

"Keep it to yourself," you grin sarcastically, only for him to pick up your spoon and move it around in a threatening manner.

"Are you trying to scare me with a spoon?" you chuckle in disbelief.

 "Anything can be a weapon if you use enough force."

"Okay… that was creepy. What do you want?"

"The end of the first term is coming up. So, to celebrate our little rivalry-"

"It's not a rivalry if I’m always winning," you cut him off.

"Yeah, that’s why I have a fridge full of pudding."

"But-"

"Anyways, how about the top of the class takes the other out for dinner? A fancy one." He suggests, his gaze fixed on you.

"No, thank you. I already see you enough in classes."

"Didn’t think you wouldn’t up for a bet. Guess I was wrong," he remarks, a cheeky smile drawn on his lips. He knows you couldn’t possibly say no now.  

"Fine," you roll your eyes at his proud expression. "Prepare your wallet." 

"Mm, sure," he responds, before rising from his seat once more.

That day, you both lost track of time as you studied in Limbo until it closed down. When you finally stepped outside, stretching your tired limbs, you were met with the sight of falling snowflakes.

"Nooo, go away. I don't want to watch the first snow with you," Minho whines, referring to the superstition that watching the first snowfall with someone could spark love between the two of you. 

"As if I could ever love you," you laugh at the ridiculous idea, "that’d just be signing a death warrant."

You resume walking towards your apartment when suddenly something freezing and hard hits your back with enough force to make you stagger. Turning around slowly, you find Minho erupting in laughter, his body filled with uncontainable joy. He’s jumping and clapping excitedly, and for a fleeting moment, you can’t decide if your shock was from the impact or from how beautiful happiness looks on him. 

Snapping out of your daze, you swiftly retaliate by scooping up a handful of snow and hurling it at him. "Now you are cold too!" you shout, while he’s still laughing uncontrollably. 

Thus begins an impromptu snowball fight between the two of you. Unsurprisingly, you’re being competitive in this too, trying your best to strike each other before the other could recover. But Minho draws nearer to you, and in your desperation to win, you fall to the ground when he throws a snowball at your chest, gasping as if you’re in pain.

"Shit, did I hurt you?" Minho quickly kneels in front of you, concern evident in his voice. It surprises you for a moment- how worried he seems at the prospect of causing you pain.

But you shake that thought off and push him down to the ground, a proud smile on your face. In his fall, Minho instinctively reaches for you to steady himself, which ends up with you landing on top of him. Your faces are mere inches apart, and a soft gasp escapes your mouth at your sudden proximity.

Minho has a mole on his nose. You’ve never noticed that before. 

You quickly push yourself off of him, not enjoying being this close to somebody. "Why did you drag me down with you?" you grumble, shaking off the snow from your hair.

"Play stupid games, win stupid prizes," he cheekily stuck out his tongue, and you respond with the same childlike gesture before the both of you burst into loud laughter. The sound reverberates through your entire being, and it echoes in your mind long after the two of you go your separate ways.  

As you lay in bed that night, ready to drift off to sleep, a quiet realization dawns on you. This was the first time you've touched snow in since your childhood incident.

That unpleasant memory didn't cross your mind once. Instead, all you thought about was Minho’s infectious laughter, and the surprising warmth it stirred within you.

✹✹✹

You came first in your grade this semester.

True to his words, Minho texted you the name of the restaurant where you’d both meet to celebrate your win. As you got ready for your outing, you couldn’t help the nerves creeping up on you. Studying in silence next to Minho was something, going to a friendly dinner with him was another. You feared it would be too awkward and Minho would regret ever proposing such a thing.

So, as you sit in the refined BBQ restaurant waiting for him, you fidget with your hands, counting down to three in your head in an attempt to steady your breathing.

You were clearly not accustomed to existing with Minho outside of the confines of your studies.

"Did you wait long?" Minho asks as he finally pulls the chair in front of you and you shake your head no.

"Are you nervous?" he chuckles at your lack of words, and you frown, suddenly feeling defensive. "Why would I be nervous? This isn't a date."

"Who said anything about a date?" he smirks and you grab your fork threateningly, pointing it at him, "Don't say anything stupid or I will walk out."

"And stand me up on our first date? That's too mean.” He pouts, a hand on his heart and you can’t help but giggle at his antics. You were ridiculous for being nervous. This was Minho, the one person you’ve talked to the most since the start of this year. 

"What will you have?" he asks and you smile mischievously.

 "Most expensive thing on the menu."

"So you are only here for the food." 

"Well, it's certainly not for your company," you wink and he chuckles, his bunny teeth on full display. 

"And here I thought we were going to be civil with each other."

"When are we ever not?" you gasp dramatically and Minho swats your hand with the menu. "Just order whatever," you finally answer," I trust your food judgment."

"I could poison you, you know?" He smiles proudly and you roll your eyes at him, "Can’t you be normal, for once?"

Minho calls over the waiter and places your orders. The food is quick to arrive and Minho starts to grill up the meat, while you cut the Kimchi into smaller pieces. 

"Here," he puts the perfectly cooked rib onto your plate first and you smile at him, "Thank you."

"Eat up, don’t wait for me," he tells you and you nod, tasting the flavorful meat.

"Wow this is really good," you compliment and he smirks proudly at your words, "I know."

Minho places four other ribs for you, without eating one himself. You start to feel bad, so you grab his chopsticks, pick up the meat, and move it toward his mouth, "Open up."

"What?" He asks confused and you wave the food in front of his face, "Come on, you haven’t eaten anything."

Minho parts his lips slowly, and you feed the tender meat to him, before eating one yourself. You notice how his cheeks are slightly tinted pink now, and you account it to the intense heat of the grill.

"Oh, let's not talk about studies, my brain can't take another debate with you," you tell Minho in between bites and he grins at you, a gleam of excitement in his eyes. "If you were to dispose of a body, how would you do it?"

"I think our next celebration will be in an asylum." you smile too sweetly at him and he stares at you pointedly, "Please, I know you've already thought about it."

"Fine. Probably in a deserted land. What about you?"

"I'd cut their bodies and then bury each part in a different forest. In a different city."

His answer came too quickly, and you pause in your tracks, "Should I be worried?"

"You are too cute to kill." His tone is sarcastic and you make a show of gushing at his compliment, clasping both of your hands in front of your heart, "Growing soft on me, Minho?" 

"Yeah, I’m basically sooo in love with you," he replies with a smirk and you roll your eyes at him, an amused smile tugging at the corners of your mouth.

"What's your favorite color?" you finally ask, changing the subject.

"Purple."

"I'll keep that in mind."

"You'll buy me purple flowers?" He coos at you and you shake your head as you grab the utensil from his hand, to grill the meat your turn. 

"No. I'll paint your tombstone purple," you grin and he laughs loudly, eyes squinted close, and you can't find it in you to care that the people next to you are staring. 

"What's yours?" he asks when he calms down and you shrug, "Navy blue, I think."

"You do remind me of navy blue."

"And why is that?"

"When you look at it, at first glance, it looks like black. But the more you stare at it, the more layers you uncover. Just like you. There’s more to you than what meets the eye."

You grab your glass of water, gulping it down to hide the way your eyes just glossed over. You suddenly felt bare in front of Minho. How did he know?

You clear your throat, racking your brain for a way to move on from that question. "If you were to describe colors to a blind person, how would you do it?"

"Mm," he looks up at the ceiling as he mulls over your question, "I’d say that yellow is the feeling of eating ice cream on a sunny day, in an amusement park. Your fingers are sticky but your cheeks ache from how much you smiled that day."

"Yellow is carefree and happy."

"Exact. Now your turn, red."

"I’d say that... Red is the thrill that rushes through your veins when you do something you are passionate about, you know? It’s what makes our blood boil and our heart race. The very essence of our humanity."

Minho smiles softly at your words, seemingly agreeing with your description. "Don’t you think it would be easier if we simply asked, what color are you feeling today, instead of a 'How are you'?" He questions and you tilt your head to the side, "What do you mean?"

"Well, you could say, I feel like that moss green that no one seems to pay attention to. Or, I feel bright yellow as if the world's energy is stored inside me."

"And right now, how do you feel?"

"I feel orange, not the ugly orange." He precises and you chuckle, "the orange that paints the sky when the sun is about to dip into the ocean."

"A bittersweet orange, an ending that instantly strings along a new beginning. And you don't have time to rest."

Minho places his chin on his palm, eyeing you curiously, "Is that what you want? To rest?"

"Yeah." You admit quietly, "Don't you sometimes wish that the world would just stop, for a few seconds? Just like in a song, right before the beat drops. That silence, I wish I could live inside of it."

"I do too."

You both hold each other’s gaze for a while after that. You felt as if he was keeping you captive with his brown eyes, and he was slowly peeling each of your layers, in silence, as you were peeling his. For the first time, you think that you and he are similar, more than on a studies level. There was a part of his soul that understood yours perfectly. And it felt good, to be understood, for once.

"If you lived in this silence, what would you be doing?" he asks, breaking the serene quiet that surrounded you.

"I’d open a café that had books. And there'd be a little space, where people could paint. Or do pottery. And I’d have cats in there too." You reply excitedly, hands moving around in the air, you end up missing the way Minho gazes fondly at you before his smile morphs into a smirk.

"Please tell me you won't be cooking."

"Shut up. What about you?"

"I’d be a dancer."

"You dance?!" you whisper-shout and he frowns at the surprised look on your face. 

"Yeah. Why are you looking at me like this?"

"I just never expected it. Can I-"

"No." he cuts you off immediately and you pout. 

"I didn't even finish."

"I knew what you were going to say."

"Please, I won't make a sound I’d just watch. Pinky promise.” He grabs your now outstretched pinky with the tip of his index and thumb, lowering it down. 

"I’d only grant you this wish when you’re on your deathbed."

"Bold of you to assume you'd still be around."

"Death might be around the corner."

"Stop it."

"Close your door tonight."

"You are deranged."

Minho chuckles at the crestfallen look on your face, "I’ll think about it."

Just like that, three hours of talking have gone by, the conversation flowing easily between the two of you. And when you finally leave the restaurant, Minho grabs you a cab and you wave him off with a smile. You couldn't lie to yourself, you had a really good time with him. You liked to think that Minho was no longer just a rival, but a possible friend.

But now that you were laying in your bed, you couldn’t help but curse Minho in your brain. His repetitive talk about murder made you paranoid, and now every creak in your apartment made you feel as if death was really right around the corner. 

You decide to text him, figuring that if you couldn’t sleep because of him, you could at least disturb him for a bit. 

Yn : I hate you I'm paranoid from your murder talk

Minho : Poor baby

Yn : Is that you at my door?

Suddenly your phone rings, the shrill sound echoing around your apartment. It was a Facetime call from Minho. You panic for a few seconds, before remembering that you just spent your entire night with him. A call can’t be more daunting than a real-life meeting. 

"See, I’m in my home," he tells you as soon as you pick up and you laugh.

"It's pitch black, I can't see."

"Just say you miss my face." You can’t see him but you can clearly hear the proud grin in his voice. 

"What's there to miss?"

"Are you actually scared?" Minho asks gently and you clear your throat, feeling ridiculous all of the sudden. 

"There is a tree right outside my window and it keeps rustling from the wind," you grumble and Minho laughs at you. 

"Trees can't hurt you."

"No shit Sherlock."

"Close your eyes.” He instructs and you frown at his words. 

"Why?"

"I’ll tell you a story."

"Fine.” You close your eyes tentatively. It’s quiet for a few seconds and you feel yourself relax slightly. 

"So, I bought a sous-vide machine and-"

"Is your bedtime story going to be about meat?"

"Yes?” He replies as if it’s an evidence, “Now be quiet." You pretend to zip your mouth and Minho faintly giggles, before resuming his story. "So, I was saying. I bought one and I wanted to experience different kinds of meats. So, I bought a 30-day aged one and a 58-day aged one and I cooked them both."

"What did you use?" you ask quietly. 

"Just garlic, and thyme, I didn't want to overpower the taste of meat. Anyways I cooked them, but I didn't have plastic bags so I had to go out and buy them."

"Mm," you hum in acknowledgment. You could feel your nerves slowly dissipate with Minho's every word. His story might be ridiculous but his honey-coated voice compensated for it, wrapping around you like a protective cocoon. 

"And I found pudding there so I had to buy it."

"Obviously," you whisper. Sleep was knocking on your door, but paradoxically you tried to fight it off. You wanted to hear the rest of Minho’s story. 

"And I went back home and I cooked it, then I plated it nicely with vegetables that I sauteed with butter and garlic. Just mushrooms and potatoes, nothing too fancy. Again, my main focus was the meat. But there wasn't a difference between the two. They tasted the same for me, for some reason. And I didn't like this because the aged one was very expensive. Maybe I was scammed. Honestly, that butcher looked kind of suspicio..."

Your quiet snores make Minho pause in his tracks, and he laughs quietly. You did end up falling asleep. He can't see your face clearly, but he can see its outline and he stares at you for a while. You look peaceful.

He goes to hang up but his finger hovers over the 'end call' button. You aren't talking, but your hums are quiet enough that they fill up the space around him. It calms him down, and he lets his head fall on the pillow, his phone lying beside him.

He closes his eyes, thinking that maybe he just found the silence you talked about earlier on. 

You just made his world stop.

✹✹✹

The second semester had just started and with it the return of frat parties. You were excited at the prospect of going to one with your new friend Mina. You met her in the library when you both went to grab the same book. You quickly apologized but she waved you off, handing you the book with a huge smile on her face. She was bubbly, like a human serotonin boost, and she started gushing about how much she loved the author. You saw her again in the campus cafeteria, and she skipped towards you as if you've both known each other your entire life. That was the start of your friendship.

You walk into the frat house, both your arms encircling each other. The flashing lights of the party blind you for a moment, and it takes you a while to adjust to the loud music bouncing off of the walls. But you like it, it was like a shield from the outside world and its problems. 

You feel yourself letting loose in the crowd, swaying your hips to the music. Mina spins you around and you laugh, dancing with no care in the world. It was just the both of you in that instant. 

Mina spots Jeongin in the crowd, a friend of hers that she had an immense crush on. You couldn’t blame her- he was very attractive; his easy smirk and his blonde tousled hair earned him lots of appreciative looks from the people around him. But when his eyes locked with Mina’s, you found that his face morphed into a beautiful smile, that made his dimples look on full display, as if it was only reserved for her.

“Go get your man!” You shout in her ears, so she’d be able to hear you. 

“What are you talking about?” She yells back, but you could see the nervous smile on her face.

“He likes you! Go talk to him!”

“I don’t want to leave you alone. We came together!” She clasps your hand in hers and you smile touched by her kind spirit.

“I’ll be fine. I’ll go to the kitchen to get some drinks. Go have fun!”

“You are sure?” She asks, her eyes darting between you and Jeongin, who was still looking at her, and her only. 

“Yes! Go!” You say, gently pushing her away. Mina jogs up to Jeongin who greets her with a side hug. He quickly glances at you and you shoot him a thumbs-up, to which he grins. You loved playing Cupid.

With that, you decide to head to the kitchen to grab a drink. You pick a beer from the fridge, double-checking if the can is closed before opening it. 

You lean on the countertop, sipping on your drink while you watch the crowd, humming along each time a song you knew played. You enjoyed watching people dance freely from afar, with no apparent care in the world.

You feel someone stand next to you and you brace yourself, getting ready to tell the person off if they decide to bother you. You didn’t have the energy for mindless flirting. But then, you smell the cologne that has lingered around you for the past term- Minho. You haven't seen him since your dinner. That was a month ago.

"Fancy seeing you here," he greets as he leans on the counter right next to you, his eyes fixated on the mingling bodies.

You turn around to face him, faking an outraged gasp, "Are you following me?"

"Mmm. You look nice", he compliments and you smile cheekily, "I know."

"Won't tell me I look nice too?" he smirks, leaning closer to your face. "Someone didn’t get enough compliments tonight?" You pout, placing a hand on your heart in mock concern.

"I did, but I want to hear it from you. You’re the only sensible person in this room."

"You look nice. Now leave me alone."

"Come on, I know you can do better than that", he jokes and you roll your eyes, muttering “You’re annoying”, under your breath.

Still, you comply, placing your arms on top of the counter and leaning your head on them to get a better look at him. He does the same, smiling, and you both stare at each other for a while after that.

The strobing lights dance on Minho’s face, casting enticing shadows on him. You've always known he was a beautiful man; you've looked into his eyes far too many times in your heated conversations. But this time was different, there was no cheeky smirk on his face nor a furrow in his eyebrows. He was simply looking at you, and it made a pool of warmth huddle in your belly. You feel yourself relax under his gaze, everything around you seemingly melts away.

You weren’t wrong when you thought that his eyes were like a black hole, pulling you in. But this time, you realize that you didn’t mind knowing what was on the other side. On the contrary, you longed for it. 

"I like your eyes right now. They remind me of the night sky. Black, with tiny little stars littered in them," you finally say.

Minho is taken aback by your words, he wasn't expecting you to compliment him, let alone to tell him something so special. He can feel his cheeks burn red at your words, feel his heart hammering in his chest. He's afraid you can hear it too.

He doesn't know what to say, so instead he clears his throat, plastering a smirk on his face, "I heard better." He hasn't. This is the first genuine compliment he's ever gotten.

"Oh, fuck off," you laugh and he joins you. The music was loud and yet the only sound his ear seemed to pick up was your laugh.

"Are you here alone?" He asks, and you shake your head no, "Came with my friend Mina."

"Did she leave you by yourself?" He frowns and you feel yourself warm up at his worried tone. "I told her to go talk to Jeongin."

"Next time, don’t stay alone."

“Fine, Dad.” You chastise and he stares pointedly at you, "I’m serious, yn."

You take another swing of the beer before turning your body fully towards Minho. After a few beats of silence, you finally ask a question that has been on your mind for a while. "Why do you say my name this way?"

"What way?" He questions and you shrug, "Slowly. People used to always rush it but you don’t."

"Well, it’s a pretty name. It deserves to be pronounced as a whole."

You beam at his words; you smile so brightly it makes his heart skip a beat. This is the first time you’ve grinned this widely at him, no hand in front of your mouth as if to hide it. He did notice how you were a reserved person outside of class, as if you were afraid of taking up too much place. But he could tell you were slowly unraveling, growing bolder with each passing month. He wanted to tell you that if people like you spoke more, the world would be a far better place. 

But he couldn't bring himself to say all of this, so he forced those bubbling words down his throat. "I’m hungry," he whines instead and you laugh at his pout. "I'm kind of craving a greasy pizza."

"Should we go buy it? You can tell Mina to come so we can walk her back."

"I’ll ask her."

You shoot Mina a text, asking her where she was and telling her about your plan. She replies that she’s with Jeongin who just offered to take her home, so you could leave without her.

"We can go." You tell him and he nods. Minho shrugs his leather jacket off, gently placing it on your shoulders. His warmth engulfs you and you sink further into it. His arm hovers around your shoulder not touching you as he leads you out of the party. He has never touched your body, you note, it's like he was everywhere and nowhere at once.

You both walk to an open parlor near the frat house, and you order a Margarita pizza to share. You sit down on a nearby bench to eat it- the night breeze too liberating to pass up on.

As you both finish eating, a cat with white and orange stripes all over her body approaches the both of you cautiously, and you pat her head softly. "Aren't you the cutest thing ever?" you coo and Minho chuckles as he scratches the cat’s chin. She purrs at his touch appreciatively, and you smile at the soft look on his face. 

"Never knew you to be this gentle", you giggle and Minho shushes you, "Let's not do this in front of the cat."

"Why are you acting as if we are a divorced couple and she’s our child."

"Easy, yn. You make it sound as if you want me to marry you."

"Now you're just projecting," you chastise and he laughs, eliciting giggles from you. He had a melodic laugh, you noticed, and you always felt a surge of pride whenever you made him close his eyes and tip his head from laughter. You felt as if it's a sight only you can see.

"I have three cats", he says softly and you gasp, "Really? We spent all of our Sundays in a cat café and this is when you tell me?"

"I only tell my friends."

"So we're friends now?" You gush and he rolls his eyes at you, "I take it back."

"What’s their names?" You ask curiously and his eyes soften at your question- you could easily tell he loved them dearly.

"Soongie, Doongie, and Dori. They are rescues."

"That’s very sweet of you Minho."

"Most of my scars come from them though," he chuckles but you sober up at his words, quietly scratching the cat's ears.

"What’s on your mind?" He asks and you glance at him. It was scary how well he’s starting to know you. But it was also nice; to be known is to exist, after all.

"I just... Sometimes I wish that memories would leave physical scars on you. Because at least then, you could treat them, put a band-aid on, and watch them fade away day by day. Because when the scars are emotional, you can’t treat them, you know? And someday someone brings up a name or a place, or you smell a certain scent, and suddenly they reopen as if no time has gone by at all.”

Minho stays silent for a while, mulling over your words. You don't mind, you weren't expecting him to comfort you. You just needed to free those words from the mental prison you've held them in for so long.

"Do you know Kintsugi?" he finally asks and you shake your head no.

"It's a Japanese art. They put back together broken vases with molten gold. It represents strength despite our flaws."

"That sounds nice," you sigh wistfully and he nods. 

"It is. When you look at that vase, you know that it was once broken, but it doesn't take away from its beauty, on the contrary, it adds to it. Scars, whether they are emotional or physical are there for a reason. They remind us of how we pushed through whatever life threw at us."

"Am I supposed to be grateful I survived this?" You chuckle lowly, as your hand scratches the cat’s ear. Your fingers brush against Minho’s and you hesitate for a few seconds before moving them away.

"I wouldn't say grateful for what you went through," he speaks once again, "but grateful to yourself. At the end of the day, the reason why you're still here is you. You put yourself back together," he then bumps his elbow into your side softly, "and hey, even if your scars reopen there will come a time when they wouldn’t anymore. Sometimes, it takes a while to be okay again."

This was Minho’s way of telling you that someday it wouldn’t hurt anymore. That someday you’d be okay. And you needed to hear that. You needed to hear someone else other than yourself tell you that.

"Thank you, Minho, I needed that", you smile at him and he grins back at you before his smile turns to a smirk. "I charge 15 dollars for the hour by the way."

"Oh, come on! You didn't even say something revolutionary." You are lying. Minho's words will echo in your mind long after this night- a beacon of light to hold onto.

"Oh, so now it’s no longer ‘I needed that’. Tsk," he jokes a smirk still plastered on his face.

"Okay, Mr. Therapist. I’ll pay for your coffee tomorrow, sounds good?"

"I should have you as my client more often," he winks and you laugh, head tipped back. You were grateful more than ever for his teasing, loving how it wasn’t awkward between you after your discussion.

"You are a good listener." You tell him as you stand up, dusting your pants.

"I’m good at everything," he grins cheekily at you and you roll your eyes playfully, "And here I thought we were having a moment."

You both start walking side by side toward your home when Minho speaks again. His tone is quiet as if he wasn’t sure he wanted you to hear him. "About earlier, your compliment, I mean. I suppose I didn't thank you. So, thank you," he scratches the tip of his ears and you shrug nonchalantly. "It's the truth. You might get on my ass but that doesn't change the fact you are a pretty man."

He doesn’t respond and you tug at the sleeve of his shirt playfully, "You won't tell me I’m pretty too?"

"But then I’d be lying."

"Asshole."

"Pretty," he replies without missing a beat.

You laugh loudly, hand tightly clutching your stomach and he joins you. There is a newfound lightness in your steps now. Unbeknownst to him, Minho just managed to lift a small weight off your shoulders, allowing you a brief moment of respite.

"This is me," you say when you arrive in front of your apartment block, "Thank you for walking me home."

"Of course. Don't dream of me."

"Idiot," you laugh waving him off and he does the same. "Oh, and text me when you get home safely!" you shout before heading inside.

For the second time this night, Minho is blushing profusely at your words. He sighs to himself, waiting patiently until a light turns on in your place to leave.

✹✹✹

It’s been two months since the start of the new term. You still went to Limbo, every Saturday with Minho- even when you didn’t need to study. 

Sometimes you’d just grab a book and you’d both read, a cat lazily lounging at your feet. You started sitting at the same table too; you figured it was easier since one of you always pays for the other. When you have a bet, but also randomly, when you notice that the other person is feeling down and you want to cheer them up without saying anything.

That's why you bought three bubble teas for Minho in a row. He was quieter these days, you noticed. He didn’t talk to you nor did he retort back in class. It was the first time you’ve seen him this way. As if he was a simple shell of the person he usually is. 

You were walking out of your Communications Strategies class, which Minho weirdly didn’t come to when you realized that it was pouring rain. You smile lightly to yourself, grateful since you thought about picking up an umbrella this morning. 

As you walk through campus, everyone around you running to take shelter, you spot someone sitting on a bench, completely drenched from the rain. Their head is hung low and you frown to yourself. They would surely get a cold if they stay there.

But then the person raises their head and you quickly realize it's Minho. You jog up to him instinctively, standing in front of him and shielding him from the rain with your umbrella.

He looks up at you and you feel your heart clench. His eyes are void of emotion and he stares blankly at you. "Are you okay?" you ask and he blinks at your words, as if his brain hadn't yet registered that you were there.

"Yeah."

"You don't look like it", you tilt your head to the side and he looks down again. You have to strain to hear his next words, muffled by the rain and his mumbling, "I don't want to talk, yn."

You decide to put away your umbrella and sit down next to him on the bench. The rain falls rapidly on both of you, and you feel yourself grow cold from it. 

"What are you doing?" He questions, turning to the side to look at you.

"Enjoying the rain. It is kind of stupid that we have umbrellas, right?"

"You'll catch a cold."

"I mean we always complain about the drought and then when it rains, we hide from it. But it's really beautiful."          

"Stop, I don't want you to get sick."

"Well, neither do I. Let's go eat some soup. My treat."

"Yn, I don’t-"

"I thought you were smart enough to know I won't take no for an answer."

"But I-" you cut him off again. "Also, I’m doing this for me because when you order for two, they give you a lot of side dishes. Now come on."

You stand up and he looks doubtfully at you, before following suit. You open up the umbrella again and hold it over both of your heads. He has to huddle close to you, and your shoulders brush against each other. Once, twice. Not that you're keeping count. But your body is always hyper-aware of Minho’s proximity. You also notice how he silently moves from your right to your left, this way he's the one walking right next to the speeding cars. Your hold on the umbrella tightens. You were still not used to those small attentions of his. 

You arrive in front of your apartment block and he hesitates. "Come up, I won't murder you I promise." You joke and he smiles lightly back at your words. Progress.

He enters your dorm and you can see him eying his surroundings. You know that if it was another time, he would have teased you about something- anything. But he stays quiet, and you find yourself missing the sound of his voice.

"Would you like to shower?" You offer and he nods, "Please."

You lead him to your bathroom and show him where the washing machine is. "Put your clothes in there for a quick wash and dry. You can shower meanwhile."

He nods again as you hand him a towel. "I'll be outside."

You quickly leave the bathroom to place the soup orders, and Minho discards his wet clothes, walking into your shower. The water is piping hot, and he leans his forehead on the cold tiles. He doesn’t move for the first ten minutes, too tired at the prospect of lifting his limbs.

Nothing particular happened. But he’d go through days when he’d quiet down because everything around him was too much. The feel of his clothes against his skin, and the sun streaming through his curtains. But it always passes. Minho was a realistic man and he knew that his emotions would regulate themselves. That’s why he didn’t like appearing vulnerable in front of other people.

But for some reason, he didn’t mind lowering his guard with you. He knew you wouldn’t judge.

He sighs, grabbing your cherry-scented shampoo and pouring it into his hands. He can clearly smell you now. The scent of your hair that always tickles his nose, whenever you are sitting close to him. Your body wash is next and he wonders if this is how your skin smells, like vanilla and jasmine, and something entirely you. 

Forty minutes later, Minho finally steps out of the shower. His clothes are clean and he quickly puts them on. He dries his hair with the towel as he walks out of your bathroom towards the living room. 

He finds you sitting on the ground, in front of a heater that looks close to giving up. He makes a mental note of giving you the one he has since he doesn't really use it. You changed out of your clothes too, and you are now wearing a pair of pajamas with little bunnies sewn into it. The sight almost manages to make him smile. 

"Still cold?" you question when you notice him standing behind you, unmoving, and he shakes his head no.

"Good, the soup is here." You say cheerfully, pointing at the steaming bowls sitting on your table. Minho hums in reply and you stand up, grabbing the towel from his hands to place it on the drying rack.

You come back, a soft green blanket in your hands. You sit on the couch and pat the spot beside you. Minho sits next to you, and you lay the blanket on both of your laps, before handing him his soup.

You start the show you’ve been last watching, as you both eat in silence, your legs crisscrossed. You make some comments throughout the episodes. You figured that it was a safe territory, to talk about something as mundane as this. He didn't reply but you didn't mind. You weren't here to have a conversation with him. You just wanted to distract him.

You realize at that moment that Minho always looked so put together to you. But he had problems of his own too. That much was obvious. It made you feel closer to him, in a sense. You were both just trying to make it through the day.

Two hours later, you get up to grab a book, handing Minho the remote to put on a show of his own. You curl in a ball in the corner, reading where you left off last night.

"Can you... Can you read out loud?" Minho speaks for the first time in a while and you look at him. His eyes are closed, his head resting against your couch.

"Sure."

You start to read, and Minho further sinks into the couch. He feels at home here. Because the blanket is soft and the light is dim enough to not hurt his eyes. Or it could be that he smells like you, a scent so comforting he wants to bury himself in it. Or maybe it's your voice that floats through the air, slowly clouding Minho’s every sense. He feels as if he could see the words you were pronouncing dancing in front of his eyes. You enunciated each syllable clearly, making sure that no sound was forgotten.

As Minho gently drifted to sleep, he felt as if he was part of the words you read out loud. He felt as if you were treating him with the same care, making sure that he knew he wasn't invisible. At least not to you.

When you wake up the next morning, Minho is gone. And his place beside you on the couch is empty. He made you breakfast, scrambled eggs, and freshly pressed orange juice. And right next to it you find a note, "Thank you for reading to me."

✹✹✹

Minho didn't believe in having a lot of friends. He was content with the two people he had, Chan and Changbin. The latter was his high school friend, he skipped a year and ended up being in the same class as Minho. They didn't talk at first until the day Changbin dropped a book on Minho's foot. The brooding man started apologizing profusely, and that was the start of their friendship. They've kept in touch since.

Chan was his roommate at university. It's not that he particularly wanted to befriend him, but Chan was a social butterfly and he quickly managed to pull Minho into his friendly trap. He annoys Minho the most, but in an endearing way. And although Chan is older, Minho still strangely developed a soft spot for him. 

And he supposes he has you too now. At first, you weren’t friends, rivals at most. He enjoyed reeling you up and having you frown at his words in your heated debates. He also liked talking to you, because your ideas were interesting and you always gave him a new fresh perceptive to see things.

That’s how he strictly saw you as, an intelligent human who he liked to debate with.

But then he started to look forward to meeting up with you at Limbo. He no longer minded the fact that you took his self-assigned table, from his high school days. And he laughed more freely with you, enjoying how you always had a witty retort sitting at the tip of your tongue. 

That’s how he started to notice things that friends most definitely notice. How you have a charm bracelet you always fidget with whenever you are nervous. How you stray away from physical touch. How you scratch your eyebrow when you are deep in thought.

But also, how you seem to have an obsession with cherries. Your cherry pendant, your cherry-scented shampoo, and your cherry-tainted lips. A friend would most certainly think that your lips are like red wine-stained glass.

He remembers one of the many times when you were at Limbo, and he saw you reapply your lip tint, or so you called it. You caught him looking and he swiftly averted his gaze, but it wasn't quick enough. Suddenly you were in front of him, a tiny red bottle in hand.

"Let me apply it to you," you smiled and he pushed your head away with his pointer finger. "No."

"Please," you pouted and he couldn't help but find you adorable. You sometimes reminded him of a small kitten. But he didn’t dare to call you by that nickname. 

"Never."

"If I score more than you in our environmental assignment then I will do it."

"Fine." he huffed so that you'd leave him alone.

Minho didn't study for that assignment. He blamed it on a headache, not that it's ever stopped him before. And two weeks later you were in front of him, eyebrows scrunched in concentration. You applied the lip tint gently on his plump lips, carefully tracing over his cupid bow. 

Your face was mere inches away from his and he noticed how you were wearing a gloss today, for change. It was shimmering under the lights and he usually didn't like glittery things, but he couldn't take his eyes off your lips. 

"All done!" you clapped excitedly, snapping him out of his haze. You then shove your phone camera into his face so he'd look at the results.

"You should be a model. Your face is perfectly sculpted," you comment nonchalantly, before sitting back in your seat. 

“I know.” He replies confidently, but his hand kept fiddling with the tip of his now pink ears. He couldn't concentrate for the rest of the night.

You were his friend because he always worried if you were eating enough. That’s why he urged you to grab a bite in the convenience store near Limbo, whenever you finished up your studying late.

This was one of the many times you sat on the minuscule table outside, hot ramen bowls in front of the both of you. Minho huffed in annoyance between each bite, his bangs were getting longer, disturbing him when he leaned down to slurp his noodles. 

“Here,” you stand up from your place, a hair tie in your hands. 

“What are you doing?” He questions as you stand behind him. You don’t reply, silently grabbing his hair and putting it up in a tiny ponytail, this way it wouldn’t get in his eyes anymore.

“Voila,” you sit back down, resuming your eating. Minho was grateful for the dimly lit street because his entire face was burning up. Your fingers in his hair were gentle and he wondered how it would feel if you ran your fingers through it. 

This was something friends think about, right? 

"I’ll cut my hair tomorrow," he clears his throat. He didn't know why he told you. You certainly weren't interested in his hair endeavors.

"What?!" you yell, "Don't. Your hair is beautiful why would you cut it?"

"Because it's getting longer."

"But it suits you."

Minho also noticed how you always threw compliments his way. Not in a flirtatious way, but in a genuine one. He couldn't help but wonder what made you this way. Did you so freely give love to others because you knew how it felt to not receive it?

"I’ll still cut it."

Minho returned home; his hair still clipped back in a ponytail. Chan eyed him weirdly but he shut him off with a glare. The elastic remained at his bedside since.

He didn't cut his hair.

The moment Minho started to consider you a close friend, was when you invited him over to watch your show. You didn’t force him to open up that night, and he appreciated it, more than he let on.

That's how a week later, he finds himself walking towards your dorm again. The thoughts in his head got too much, and Chan was immersed in his makeshift studio, which meant he won't be free for the next four hours, minimum.

He didn't plan on going to you. It was late at night and you were probably asleep, but his feet naturally led him to the direction of your place.

He knocks softly on your door. He wasn't even sure if he wanted you to open. What would you think of him showing up at eleven pm? He should have thought this thro-

"Minho?" you call out, and he startles a bit, his feet already inching away from the door.

"This was a bad idea, I'm sorry," he starts to retract back but you grab the hem of his jacket to stop him. "Do you... Do you want to watch my show with me?" you ask, a soft smile on your face and he nods tentatively.

"Okay, come in," you open the door wider and Minho follows you inside. The look in his eyes reminds you of the day you found him sitting under the rain. You didn't like it, you wanted him to find his spark back, his usual demeanor. He wasn't deserving of anything but happiness.

"I’ve started a new show, this one's a bit more romantic, so don't go around imagining me as the main character," you tease and he scoffs at your words, a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.

He doesn't reply, but you don't mind. There was this secret agreement between the two of you, you would talk and he would listen. He needed the distraction, and you needed the company. Sometimes the line between alone and lonely blurs, and on days like these, Minho’s presence fills the void inside.

You comment on the scenes and Minho hums in reply, you watch three episodes in a row, and your eyes are getting drowsy, so you close them.

"Minho," you call out gently and he turns his head towards you.

"Yeah?"

"What color are you feeling tonight?" You ask, referencing to what he told you on your dinner celebration. That felt like an eternity ago.

"Black." You stay silent and Minho fidgets with his hands before speaking once again. "I feel a lot at the same time, too much of every color. That's why- that's why I said black."

"How can I help you feel yellow?"

"You already do." His admission came softly and it made your breath hitch in your throat. You wanted to open your eyes and look at him, but you figured it will only make him close off even more.

“Okay. Will you stay for breakfast?”, you whisper. You were very sleepy, the soft chatter of the TV and your hushed conversation were like a lullaby to you. 

"You want me to?" he asks, and he sounds so vulnerable you can't find it in you to say anything but the truth.

"I do," you admit, and that's the last thing you remember before sleeping.

Your head falls near Minho’s lap on the couch, your hair tickling his exposed thigh. Minho shouldn’t feel this way, he thinks. He’s sitting on the leather couch and his feet are touching the cold floor and yet all he can feel is three strands of your hair tickling him.

He glances at you, at your now parted lips and your relaxed eyebrows. His hand hovers over your hair, but then he curls it into a tight fist. What is he doing? He thinks to himself as he drags an angry hand through his face. He sighs, before standing up and grabbing the blanket you had on the opposing chair. He gently lays it on your body before sitting next to you once again. 

You told him to stay for breakfast. He’ll stay.

✹✹✹

2 months later

"Yn!" Minho shouts in your ear as he plops down next to you. You startle, dropping the book you were reading. 

"I hate you," you grumble, picking up your book and he smiles cheekily at you, "No you don't."

You were laying on the grass of your campus garden, in between two classes, trying to kill the time. It was April so the weather was perfect for lying under the warm sunrays. You loved spring, it always held within it the promise of a better time. 

"What are you doing?"

"I was reading before you got here and started to annoy me." 

"Don't mind me. Do your thing." 

"And what are you doing?"

"Enjoying the sun."

"You couldn't find any other place to do so?"

"Nope."

"You're annoying" You try to sound mad but the smile on your face betrays you. You started looking forward to any moment Minho randomly shows up throughout your day. Sometimes it's late at night when he's suddenly craving sushi and he drags you with him because if he's not studying then you shouldn't be too. 

Sometimes it's during the day, when he takes you to a new garden where he found the quote "cutest cats in existence". Not as cute as his cats, of course. 

Sometimes it's late afternoon when he just knocks on your door, and he's there with Chan-his roommate who sometimes joins your study sessions- snacks in their hands. You've learned that what Minho doesn't say in words, he compensates by spending time with you. And you didn't tell him but waiting for these moments has been the joy of your life for the past few weeks.

It made you feel excited- like a child waiting up for Christmas morning to discover what gifts they are receiving. 

So, you resume reading, as Minho is lying next to you. You could smell his pinewood cologne and you wished you could pour his essence into a bottle and carry it with you everywhere. 

You notice how the sun is hitting Minho’s eyes directly, and how his eyebrows are scrunched up at the aggression. So, you grab your book with your left hand, and hover your right one over his eyes, shielding him from the sun. Minho's breath tickles your hand and you can feel goosebumps rising through your skin. 

It's as if every physical proximity with Minho made you feel hyperaware of every part of your body, and how he can lighten it with a simple breath from his part. It made you wonder what it would feel to have his hands on your skin.

As if Minho heard your thoughts, he gently wraps his thumb and index finger around your wrist, steadying your hand in place so it wouldn't strain your arm. You suddenly don't know what page you are in, too overwhelmed by the feeling of his hands on you. 

His touch is very featherlight and you are afraid to move, to break the bubble you are suddenly pulled into. 

"Read to me," he tells you and you gulp. You never understood why Minho enjoyed it when you read to him. 

"Like my voice that much?" you tease, in an attempt to hide how affected you are. You were so close to him; it would be easy to slide down and lay your head on his chest. You wondered how his heartbeat would sound. Was it steady, or racing just like your own? 

"Yeah, it's calming," he replies sincerely, catching you off guard. You didn't expect him to compliment you, and now you are racking your brain for a retort, anything to make you breathe again. 

"Growing soft on me Minho?" you say, the same question you asked on your first dinner out. The first time you truly saw him, the first time you felt as if you were two pieces of the same puzzle, just waiting for someone to connect the both of you. 

He doesn't reply. And you sit there, patiently waiting. His first answer came so easily, so naturally, because he was being sarcastic, "I’m basically in love with you", he told you back then. So why can't he say it again?

"Yes, I am." He finally replies and you feel your breath catch in your throat. You try to account it for your brain misguiding you. It wasn't Minho speaking, it was the rustling of the leaves and the singing of the birds that you just heard. But it was him, and now his eyes are open and he's looking at you. Your hand is still shielding his eyes and his fingers are still wrapped around your wrist. And you are suddenly feeling. You are feeling too much. You don't know what to do with those feelings cursing through your veins and you can't face them. Because they are scaring you.

"I'll just... Yeah, I’ll just read," you say quietly, too flustered by his intense gaze. You were already on the other side, you realize. His eyes pulled you in and you were stuck in there, swimming in a pool of honey. 

"Out loud," he says and you chuckle, "Fine, Min." The nickname slips out of your tongue naturally and you quickly snap your head towards Minho to see if he noticed. 

His eyes are closed, and there is a slight smile on his face, and you can swear that he just repeated the nickname to himself softly. 

✹✹✹

You've been so sick these past days, you barely managed to go to class. Your head throbbed with pain and your entire body felt as if someone thoroughly boxed it. 

You were grateful that Minho reeled down his teasing because you had no energy to retort back. He may have noticed how sick you felt and truthfully it would be hard not to. You stayed silent throughout the day, and you looked so pale, you avoided looking at the mirror altogether.

Though Minho didn't talk to you, he still silently placed water bottles and some of your favorite snacks on your desk. You'd down the water, grateful for the relief it brought your sore throat. And when you didn't touch the food, he'd immediately text you 'Eat up', followed by a simple 'Please'. Having someone else care for your well-being felt weird, but it warmed your heart beyond what words could describe. 

You only came today to pass your Criminal Law mid-term, but your head hurt so badly that you weren't even sure what you wrote on your paper. The words blurred in front of your eyes and you almost slept in the middle of your exam, exhaustion threatening to take over your body. 

You fucked up, badly. You haven't screwed up this much in years.

You thought that you were slowly getting better since Minho surpassing you no longer sparked an unworthy feeling within you. But apparently, you were wrong to believe so. Self-doubt crept up within you once again, and the ugly feelings it stirred slowly clawed at your throat, making it hard for you to breathe.

It was one test, and yet it reeled you back ages ago. 

Tears threaten to spill out of your eyes as you hurriedly walk out of your class. You make a beeline for the library, figuring that it will be mostly empty by now. 

You pull out a chair and sit on it, lowering your head down so no one will see you. Your tears are falling rapidly and you hit your thigh repeatedly.  You hated how weak you felt in that instant. 

"Yn?", someone calls out and you curse internally. You don't have to look up to see who it is, Minho's voice has become a part of you- you could easily recognize it between a thousand mingling sounds. 

You don't want him to see you, especially not like this, weak and vulnerable and on the verge of breaking down. So you quickly slip a pair of sunglasses on your eyes, before raising your head to look at him. "Hm?"

"Are you okay?" he asks, his tone so soft it makes you want to cry ten times fold. You hated it, hated how attentive he was to you. You didn't deserve it. 

"Yeah, yeah. I'm just here to pick a book," you lie, abruptly standing up and heading toward the rows behind you. You desperately needed to get away from him. 

You pause in front of a random shelf and then you feel Minho standing behind you. You grab a random book and he peeks above your shoulder to see it, "Economics? You hate this subject."

"Why are you following me?" you turn around attempting your best to sound mad. When in reality, your heart was brimming with hurt. You wished you could get away from your body and seep into someone's soul to feel what it's like to love yourself.

"You aren't okay," he asserts and you hate it. You hate that he sounds so sure of himself. Was it that noticeable? Were you not fooling anyone?

"I am," your voice is shaking but you are adamant about contradicting him. You couldn't let him see you. What if he runs?

"Then..." he steps forward and you take a step back until your back is against the shelf. His left arm cages your body, but his right one stays by his side. He is leaving you an opening, you realize, an outing in case you feel uncomfortable. Against all odds, you don't.

 "Why are you hiding from me?" he asks, gently taking your sunglasses off your face, and placing them on the top of your head.

You don't look up at him, and he hooks his finger underneath your chin, gently raising your head. When your tear-stained eyes meet his, he frowns deeply, "Why are you crying?"

"it's nothing."

"Yn..."

"I fucked up, okay?! That was the worst test I’ve ever given in years." The tears start to flow at your words and you wipe them away aggressively. You despised crying in front of people. 

Minho raises his hand to wipe the tears away for you but he quickly retracts it- you probably wouldn't want him to touch your face. It was enough that he had grabbed your wrist a couple of weeks before this. He quickly racks his brain for something to do, because the sight of your tears is making his heart ache in a way he hasn't felt before. It's as if he's feeling your emotions deep within him.

In desperation, Minho pinches your arm and you yelp, startled. "What was that for?" you whisper-shout and he raises his hands in defense, "I didn't know what else to do."

"So, you thought about pinching me?" you chuckle in bewilderment and he scratches the top of his hair sheepishly. 

"I mean, it worked. Look, you stopped crying," he points out raising his brows at you proudly and you shake your head at him.

"Remind me to never cry in front of you again." 

Minho grins at you before his face turns serious once again. "Look, you are the smartest person I know," he pauses, adding with a cheeky smirk, "After me of course." Which makes you giggle against your will. 

"Shut up", you lightly punch his chest and he smiles. "One test doesn't define you. You always work very hard. I wouldn't lie to you."

"Mm," you hum and he frowns at your lack of enthusiasm, but still, he doesn't comment. 

"No more crying," he wiggles his finger in front of your face and you roll your eyes, wiping the rest of your tears away. "Fine. Pretend as if this never happened."

"What are you talking about?" he asks as if confused, and you can't help the smile tugging at the corner of your mouth. It's as if Minho knows exactly what to say to cheer you up. 

"Come with me," he tells you, gently pulling you by the sleeve of your hoodie. 

"Where to?"

"I’m craving ice cream."

"And why do you need me?"

"You're craving ice cream too," he says in a matter-of-a-fact tone. 

"Only if you're paying," you add with a giggle and he whines loudly, "I feel so so used around you." 

True to his words, Minho takes you to the nearest ice cream parlor. It's a 20 minutes walk away and you are grateful for the distance because it helps you clear your head a bit.

Minho lets you pick whatever flavors you want, and when you hesitate between two of them, he tells the cashier to put them both into your cup. This is how you end up with a container of 5 scoops of ice cream. You insisted you'd share, and Minho begrudgingly agreed when you threatened to walk out and leave him.

You then walk to a deserted alley and sit on the sidewalk. You didn't want to be around people right now, and thankfully, Minho understood without you having to say a word.  

You munch silently on your ice cream and Minho does the same, the both of you lost in your thoughts. You naturally take turns holding the freezing container, so it wouldn't numb the fingers of one of you.

When you're done, Minho stands up to throw it away in a nearby trashcan before sitting back again next to you. 

Suddenly you feel him gently tapping your hand. You look down to find that you've curled your fingers into a tight fist, so much that there are crescent indents visible on your palm now. 

"Let's play thumb war," he tells you and you giggle at his words. You never knew what to expect from him. 

Still, as your fingers hold each other, and your thumb circles one another, you feel yourself calm down slightly. You play a couple of rounds, and you know he's going easy on you, allowing you to quickly trap his thumb down. 

No one has gone to such lengths to cheer you up, and you suddenly feel so grateful for Minho’s presence in your life. You didn't care in what shape he was in, you just needed him to be in it. Which in turn makes you think how bad it'd hurt if he ever leaves. 

You don't want Minho to leave. You've gotten so attached to him that the thought of not talking to him again makes your heart race in panic. 

Minho notices the change in your expression, suddenly melancholic once again. Your hand has gone limp in his, the thumb war long forgotten by you. 

He curses under his breath, before looking at you. "If I dance for you, will you quit being so sad?"

"Dance for me?" you repeat incredulously and he nods, "Yes. I’ll show you an upcoming choreography just... Please smile?" 

"Okay," you giggle, plastering a wide grin on your face. 

"Not like that you look scary."

"Get to dancing!" you clap excitedly and he rolls his eyes, standing up and looking through his phone for a particular music. 

"Oh and no comment!" he looks pointedly at you, and you nod, pretending to zip your mouth and throwing away the key. 

'Finesse' by Bruno Mars starts playing and you are left mesmerized by the way Minho dances. It's short but it leaves you yearning to see more. His body moves smoothly, hitting each beat effortlessly. He made it look as if dancing was second nature to him, that it came as easily to him as breathing. 

You were speechless, rightfully so. You wished you could build a world where all Minho did was dance. 

"That was-" you start when he stops the music but he cuts you off instantly, "I said no comment."

"But--" Minho places his finger on your mouth to silence you, seemingly not thinking too much of it. But the feel of his finger on your lips makes you dizzy. Minho quickly takes off his hand, a blush evidently creeping up his neck. 

"Let's just go home," he sighs in defeat and you laugh despite the intense feelings cursing through you.

You don't know if you are imagining it but you swear that your pinkies brush against each other on your walk back. As if there was this magnetic force pulling them together. You wondered what would happen if you just linked your pinky with his. Would he grab you by the hand or will he let go of you entirely?

You were too much of a coward to find out. You were scared of messing up anything with him. So, you'd settle for this. Stolen glances and random outings. You just need him in your life. 

"Thank you for today," you tell Minho once you arrive and he shrugs, as what he did wasn't a big deal.

"No, I mean it. Thank you," you repeat, trying your best to convey how sincere you were being. You take in a deep breath, before grabbing his hand and squeezing it, for a fleeting second, before dropping it again. 

Minho is sure that your hand will now be imprinted into his, that the lines tracing over your palm will merge with his as one. Your touch was barely there but it had electrocuted him. He wondered to himself if his body would be able to handle more from you. But he'd gladly burn in your fires for the sake of holding you. And he'd wait, unwaveringly, as time stretches alongside the two of you. He'd wait as long as it takes for you. 

"Yn, I..." he stammers, taking a step closer to you. His scent engulfs you and you shamefully close your eyes, inhaling it. When you open them again, you find Minho glancing down at your lips. You gulp, dazzled by his proximity. 

"You have a mole on your nose," you suddenly speak up and his eyes snap back to yours, an adorable confusion drawn on his features. 

"I like that mole," you continue and you wish you could dig yourself a hole and bury yourself in it. 

"Thank you," he chuckles and you nod vigorously, "You're welcome." 

"Can I ask you something?" he says and your breath hitches in your throat. "Sure."

"You don't like it when people touch you, right?" 

"Yeah."

"Can I ask why?" 

You want to confide in him, to tell him that it’s because you long for it, you crave it so badly. That this need has woven itself into the very fabric of your being. An ache so raw that it scares you at times. You’ve never known what it feels like to be held- it was uncharted territory to you. 

"Isn't everyone scared of the unknown?" you settle on saying, and he nods in understanding. Of course, he understood. No one knows you as well as him. 

"It's okay. I just wanted to know if I ever overstepped my boundaries."

"You didn't," you reply instantly. 

"Good. You'll tell me if I ever do, right?"

"I will." 

"Okay." 

"Um. I'll get going," you point behind you and Minho smiles at you, waving you off.

You walk for a few steps before coming back again quickly. You then grab Minho’s hand, gently squeezing it like before, "You are an amazing dancer." 

And then you drop it, running back towards your apartment block without waiting for a reply. 

Minho stays frozen in his place. You think he's an amazing dancer. And you held his hand for five seconds. 

That's four seconds more than the first time. 

Progress.        

✹✹✹

You haven't gotten out of your house for the past three days. 

Everything crashed around you rapidly, it made you realize that the ground you once stood on was only an illusion, elusive and fleeting. 

You were doing well; you were getting better. But then Monday came and you went out for a walk in the park near you. As you sat there, you saw a little girl playing on the swings, delightful joy dancing across her features. But then she fell to the ground and you instinctively stood up to help her, only to notice her mother running to her. 

The world stilled around you as you clearly saw it- how the little girl clung to her mother's embrace, her embodiment of hope and love. You never had that. You don’t even know what perfume your mother used because she never allowed you to get that close to her. 

You stood up abruptly, quickly heading back to your apartment block. As you ran up the stairs, you ended up bumping into one of your neighbors. You were quick to apologize but they ignored you, and the feeling of being invisible came back to haunt you ten times fold. 

You knew you shouldn’t have done it, you knew you should have deleted your mother’s number when she sent you away to university without a backward glance, relieved at the thought of you getting a full-ride scholarship and not needing her anymore. But you didn’t, you kept her number in the hopes that she’d call. On your birthday, on holidays, on a random Thursday to tell you that she did remember who you are. 

With trembling hands, tears welling in your eyes, you dialed your mother’s number for the first time in a year. You didn’t know what you were expecting. Maybe she regrets it. Maybe she misses you. Maybe she didn’t find the courage to mend her wrongdoings and that's why she never called. 

"Hello?" her voice rang through your apartment. Goosebumps erupted on your arms and your hold on the phone tightened. Her voice took you back to memories you thought you had buried. How you spent countless nights yearning to hear the sound of her voice, how you regretted it once she spoke to attack you.

You hate her. You miss her. You want to hang up. You need to ask if she's doing okay. 

“Who is this?” Her voice was devoid of recognition, freezing you in your tracks. You felt as if a bucket of ice was thrown over your head, dousing the flame of hope that flickered in your heart. 

She deleted your number.

You quickly hung up, placing your phone down on the table. The tears refused to fall. It was as if your body had long anticipated this outcome, leaving only your wounded soul to bear the pain. 

Healing isn't linear, you've read about it in books and heard it in shows and movies. One step back doesn't mean that your entire progress is gone. You know this, you've memorized those sentences. So why do you not believe them? Why does it feel as if you can never be free from the past? Why does it feel as if you’ll always seek something out of her? 

Those questions roamed your mind for the past three days, making you too tired at the prospect of lifting your limbs, let alone leaving your apartment. You sent your two friends a text, telling them that you're sick so they wouldn't worry. Not that you believed they would. Nothing made sense to you anymore.

You laid on your bed in utter silence- a tense quiet that was disrupted on the third day by someone knocking on your door. You didn't know who was there; you just hoped that they'd leave you alone.

To your surprise, you open the door to find Minho, some notes in his right hand and a coffee in his left. He sends an easy smile your way. You don't smile back.

"What do you want?" your voice is cold, but Minho doesn't bristle. A cheeky smile settles on his lips as he leans on your doorway.

"You didn't come to class for the past three days, so I brought you the notes. So, you wouldn't think our competition is unfair."

"Competition," you chuckle coldly, heading inside your apartment, and he follows suit. You start to pace around furiously, and Minho looks at you worriedly. "Competition?" you repeat, the word dripping off your tongue like venom. You turn around, marching towards Minho and standing a few inches from him. "You know what? Fuck you and your competition!"

"Yn-"

"Did it ever occur to you that I never wanted a part in this competition? That all I wanted was to be left alone?" you say, growing louder as you jab your finger into his chest repeatedly. "I never wanted any of this! Do you understand? I never wanted to be this way," you shout angrily in his face.

The worried look in Minho’s eyes snaps you out of your haze. You realize that you are being utterly ridiculous lashing out at Minho, when the one person you are mad at is yourself. 

Your anger quickly deflates, leaving in its trail an agonizing sadness. It's so sudden that it knocks the breath out of you, and you clutch your chest as if it could soothe the burn in your heart. Suddenly you are twelve years old again, crying in your room because you feel like no one has ever loved you.

But this time you aren't alone. Minho is in front of you, and his eyebrows are so furrowed you want to lean forward to ease the tension between them. His eyebrows, you liked his eyebrows, they were arched, and they framed his eyes nicely, and his eyes are brown and so big, and they always look at you softly and why is it getting so hard to breathe-

"Did I do something to you? Whatever it is I’m sorry," Minho panics, cutting off your frantic train of thought. But now, the weight of guilt adds to your overwhelming emotions. You shouldn't have lashed out at him, he brought you coffee and you yelled at him. Maybe your mom was right after all.

You shake your head left and right furiously, your words coming out in hiccups. Since when did you start crying? "It isn't- it isn't you."

"Then let me help you-", he steps forward, hand outstretched, but you take three hurried steps back and wrap your hands around yourself protectively. "Don’t. Please, don't."

"Why are you pushing me away?" his tone isn't accusatory. You've learned time and time again that Minho wouldn't do anything that made you feel uncomfortable.

"You won't understand."

"Then make me."

"Because I’m afraid!" the words slip out of your mouth before you can stop them. "I’m afraid if you ever hug me, I wouldn't be able to go back to hugging myself. I'd need you and I can't afford to need someone else."

You regret the words as soon as they fleet away from your mouth. He would look at you differently, he would find you pathetic and then he’d leave. And you wanted him to leave. But you also wanted him to stay. It was all so confusing. 

You felt as if your being was torn between two great forces, each one of them trying to win the war raging inside you. You wished someone else would make the decisions in your place, for once.

Minho places the coffee and notes on the ground before approaching you, his palms facing up in a gesture of surrender. "I won't leave you," he says softly. "I’ll be by your side for as long as you'll have me."

"Minho..." your voice catches in your throat as you utter his name- like a broken prayer. He stands before you, his eyes shimmering like the reflection of a river on a sunny day.

"Please, let me make it better." 

You nod tentatively and Minho comes even closer to you. He was treating you like one would with a wounded animal, giving you a chance to ultimately back out. But for once, you listen to what your heart has been yearning for. Your bones are aching to be held, to feel the warmth of a body against your own, to feel safe and secure. 

Minho embraces you, wrapping his arms around your shoulders and bringing you to him. You slowly bring your arms up and lace them around his waist. You are afraid, deathly afraid. His grip is loose, and you almost can't feel him around you, but when you lay your head on his chest, he tightens his hold on you and you instinctively let out a sob. 

He's hugging adult you, the woman whose heart was once again broken by her mom. But he's also hugging little you, the girl who was craving affection from everyone around her. In that instant, Minho is hugging every single version of you that ever needed a hug. 

You were right to be scared because you don't want to let go, you want to stay in his arms because they feel safe, like a shield protecting you. You can't go back to not hugging Minho. 

The sensation is overwhelming and your knees buckle underneath you. But instead of holding you up, Minho falls to the ground with you, as if you are two inseparable pieces of one puzzle. He isn’t here to fix you, he’s here to break down with you and help you pick up the scattered pieces.

You think back to that night in the park when Minho told you about Japanese vases. At this moment, it dawns on you that Minho has found a way to become a part of you. He was the molten gold binding your broken parts together. He was the invisible thread stitching your wounds back together.

Who were you fooling? It was him; it was him all along. 

Minho rocks you gently as you cry and cry and cry. His hand finds your hair and he plays with it as you sob. He tells you you'll be okay, you'll feel better and you try to believe him, his words wrap around your bruises like a healing balm. 

"There, there, love. You are okay", he murmurs, tenderly patting your head. A fresh set of tears wells up in your eyes. Love.

"I’m sorry. I'm so sorry," you apologize as you pull away from his embrace. 

"Why are you apologizing? Is it because you wet my shirt? I don't mind," he reassures you with a smile and you shake your head. 

 "I was mean to you and you didn’t deserve it," you explain through hiccups.

"It's okay, you weren't mad at me, were you?" he asks, wiping your tears away so gently with his thumbs, careful not to irritate the sensitive skin.

"No. Still, it isn't okay and I’m sorry. I'm so sorry." 

"Shh, don't apologize. It's okay." you look at him doubtfully and he rolls his eyes playfully, "Here I’ll even do your silly pinky promise, okay?" he laces his pinky with yours, but then he suddenly leans forward and places a chaste kiss on your thumb pad. "There, sealed forever."

You giggle faintly as a blush dusts your cheeks, "That's not how it works."

"I know."

Your giggle was far different from the ones Minho was accustomed to. It was small, and it didn't brighten up your face like usual. But he was grateful for it nonetheless. He realized how much he missed your laugh, and how all the other sounds in the world pale in comparison to it.

In that moment Minho thinks to himself that he'd do anything to make you smile again. He'd make a fool out of himself if it meant making you happy. He'd settle for a simple tug at the corners of your mouth, anything but the sadness that seemed etched in your face, as if it was blended into the colors that drew you.

You tentatively move around, before laying your head on his lap. Minho's hand instinctively finds your hair and he starts to gently play with it. It feels as if you've done this a million times before, when in fact it was the first. 

There was something wildly intimate about laying on the floor with the man who just comforted you. It made you want to spill all your secrets to him, one by one, and have him hug you through them.

"Did you mean it? When you said you'll stay?" you felt so vulnerable in his hold, as if he could twist you whoever he liked. But you trusted him. You trusted yourself with Minho.

"I did. Your walls are always up. It's hard to peek behind them. But I don't want to tear them down. I want you to slowly unbuild them. I want you to do it for yourself."

To do it for yourself, it's hard to even know who you are anymore. 

"I want to tell you."

"You don't need to."

"I know, but I want to."

"Okay. Take your time, kitten." he pats your head gently, and you try to sync your breathing to the rhythm of his touch. You were grateful that you were lying on his lap since you couldn't see his face. It made talking feel a little less daunting.

"On my 9th birthday... I was very excited. I'd been on my best behavior that month, trying to please my mom in the hope that, for once, we'd celebrate my birthday. Like a normal little family," you smile sadly, you were so hopeful back then.

"My birthday came, I woke up, excited. My mom was still asleep, nothing out of the ordinary. So, I made my breakfast and walked to my school. I wore my prettiest dress and put on pigtails with hair clips. It was my birthday after all," Minho smiles softly at your words, his hand now resting on your own.

"I got back home and waited for my mom to come back. She remembered my birthday, I thought. And then, she came but she didn't talk to me. So, I thought, oh a surprise party!" you chuckle, but this time the smile on Minho’s face is gone.

"It was then 11 pm, and the hope had slowly died in me. So, in my stupid innocent self, I went to my mom, and asked her "Did you forget my birthday?". And I remember... I remember the way she laughed. Cruelly. Like I had told her the funniest joke in the world. And then. Then she looked me dead in the eye and said 'I hate the fact that you are born. Why would I celebrate that?'"

Minho sucks in a deep breath at your words, and you exhale one right out. It felt comforting, to have someone else stomach the hurt for you. To take the weight off your shoulders, allowing you a few moments to breathe.

"I confronted her about it one day, but she said she doesn't remember saying that. It's funny how it was a random Thursday for her, but for me, it shaped my life." you smile bitterly, "I remember how jealous I was of the way the other kids talked about their mothers. They said the word so lightly. It must have reminded them of sunshine and ice cream and rainbows. But for me, it held an uncharacteristic heaviness to it. I grew to hate the word."

"I drove myself crazy, Min", you whisper and he brings you closer to his body, "was it me or was it her? When did it start? Was it because I was too loud as a child or maybe too quiet? Did I not cater to her fantasies of a kid? I wanted to remember every single thing that happened throughout my childhood, thread through every single memory. I tried to pinpoint the exact moment my mom stopped loving me."

Minho squeezes your hand tightly in his, and you feel as if he was pulling you away from the memory that had long trapped you. You were now watching it unfold from outside of the window, your hand in his, safe from the hurt it had inflicted on you.

"It's not you. It could never be you. Some people are simply not fit to be parents. It's never their kid's fault."

Minho tries his best to keep his touch soothing, to make his voice sound as soft as possible. But he was angry, he was so angry at the world for not taking care of you when you were younger. His heart broke, thinking of 9-year-old you being told such cruel words.

He wanted to turn back time and tell you that you were enough. He wanted to make the pain that seemed so anchored in you float back to the surface, and dissipate like sea foam meeting the shore.

But he couldn't do that. All he could do is comfort present you.

Minho gently pulls you up from his lap, making you sit upright. He crisscrosses his legs and you do the same. Your knees brush against each other and you feel a shiver run down your spine. You didn't know that even knees could emanate such warmth.

"Yn, look at me. The world wouldn't be the same without you in it," he cradles your face between his hands, "You hear me yn? I’m so thankful you exist."

His doe brown eyes are sincere, and it made you want to believe him badly. That's a good start, right?

"I’ll be back," he tells you, letting go of your face and standing up.

You hear Minho rummaging through the kitchen and you take the time to calm yourself down. Sharing those parts of you with Minho felt therapeutic. As if you were healing parts of your inner child. You have never talked about this with anyone before, maybe this is why it still hurt as badly.

Minho comes back five minutes later, his hands behind his back. You raise a brow at him inquisitively and he just smiles secretly at you. "Close your eyes," he tells you and you giggle, doing as he says. He crouches in front of you, and you hear him shuffle in his place for a bit.

Then, "Open your eyes yn," and you find him, in front of you, a cupcake you had stored in your fridge in his hands, and a makeshift candle lit up. "Happy 9th birthday, love. You did well."

You stare at him in utter bewilderment. You couldn't believe your eyes. How could this man be so thoughtful? He was wishing you a belated birthday, to compensate for the 9th birthday you didn't celebrate.

You panic, at the look in his eyes. You've never seen it, never dared to dream of it, of someone caring for you unconditionally. So, you try to scare him, to push him away. You didn't want him to regret knowing you.

"There are things I need you to know um", you chuckle nervously, "When I... When I throw up, I hold my hair, and when I’m sick I nurse myself back to health, and when I have a nightmare I- I hold my hand in the dark. It will be hard for me to hold yours instead."

"We'll start a finger at a time, yeah?"

"It will take time."

"I have time," he speaks easily, as if loving you was effortless and not a strenuous task. You couldn't fathom it.

"You are too busy-", he cuts you off instantly, "Not for you." 

"The world doesn't stop because we need it to." Your voice is quiet; this is your very last try. You are tired of fighting. You are putting down your armor and waving a white flag.

"We'll make it stop. Here, the two of us. On this floor. We'll take as long as we need to."

"I never deemed you as an optimist", you smile a little, a hint of teasing in your tone.

"I’m not," he pauses, gazing down at the cupcake between his hands and then at you. "But I feel that we deserve a bit of happiness together, don't we?"

"We do."

"Then make a wish."

You close your eyes for a few seconds, before blowing on the candle.

"What did you wish for?" he asks a fond smile on his face.

The answer came naturally to you, you didn't even need to think about it. "I wished for you."

Minho's lips come crashing down on yours, and you imagine that this is what it feels like to see colors for the first time. To discover a new world beyond the one you've always known.

The kiss isn't urgent nor feverish, it is one of comfort. Your lips spilling the words you have not yet said to each other. "I love you," he kisses you, "I love you too," you kiss him back. "I need you to stay," you swipe your tongue across his bottom lip, "I’m never leaving you," he opens his mouth allowing you entrance.

As you kiss him, you remember a fact you once learned in high school. The human body possesses seven trillion nerves. And for the first time in your life, you feel as if each of these nerves is alive. You feel that even the smallest atom is electrocuted with Minho’s love and it’s all you know within you.  

You feel as if the pain, the hurt, and the ache you've been through are slowly unraveled, and in their place, a timid happiness is starting to bloom. You imagine that when Minho’s lips met your own, the seven trillion nerves inside you exhaled in relief 'We've made it', they said, 'we'll finally be okay.'

Epilogue

You've always thought that epilogues were useless. How can you resume the rest of your life in one sentence, boil down the rest of your existence in mere pages? Because life doesn't stop at the epilogue, and a new book can start once again, right where you left it off.  

But with Minho, you didn't mind an epilogue. On the contrary, you longed for a soft one. You wanted to rest on this last page, you wanted to lay your worries on the words and tuck them into the syllables. And you wanted to wake up anew.

And this wasn't the end of your story with Minho. A lot happened after it. But it didn't worry you, because epilogues are about the one thing that doesn't change throughout the long march of time. And luckily for you, that constant was Minho’s love for you. From that day he held you, he has never let go.

It took time, for his warmth to seep through your bones. It took time, for your heart to forget the cold. But you wanted to do it. With him. You wanted to love and be loved.

The sound of cats mewling fills your apartment, pudding can always be found in your fridge and you haven't felt invisible in years.

[okkos-ferrum]

Unorganized helluva boss apology tour rant cuz I think I'm going crazy

Disclaimer, cuz I know helluva fans can get defensive: A lot of this is probably my subjective opinion. I'll state my tldr as my actual objective piece of criticism, but otherwise my gripes throughout this could be based on my tastes and expectations. I genuinely don't want to take away anyone's enjoyment of this show nor hate on anyone involved, so if u just want to enjoy helluva, totally skip this :]

I think I'll actually have to give my hot take here and criticize this episode, because everyone has given way too much praise for an episode I think - in the long run - hurts the show

Im not gonna even bother organizing my thoughts I'm just gonna rant, but to start, i think the decision to start the ep right after full moon chronologically wasn't the best move. The full moon episode cliffhanger was an impactful scene and a dramatic way to start the rift between stolas and blitzo. It's where the dam of two-ish seasons finally breaks, where to me, stolas and blitzo have already said everything needed to be said, at least at the emotional maturity they currently are at. Any changes in said conversation about their relationship would require growth from both separately in order to foster a healthy discussion.

So to undercut that tension by IMMIEDTLY having blitzo somehow wiggle his way back into stolas's private property to have both double down on their stance diminishes the weight new moon's finale had. The conversation, while it does add further clarity, feels repetitive and emotionally taxing to watch, because the show has literally zero scenes of either of them reflecting on the previous night. So it's just them starting up the same fight with the same talking points we already know.

Yeah, maybe it is in character for blitzo to demand a conversation after new moon, but it shouldn't have been the path the show took. It should've allowed the story to stew in the feelings brought out in new moon, both in a narrative and meta sense by taking a break from stolatiz.

Cuz honestly I'm a bit drained of it atm. The show sells itself on the premise of blitzo being a "boss" (a hell of a bos-) and him working with imp. But all of s2 has had this obsession with stolatiz ever since the popularity of ozzie's (for good reason that episode was amazing and one of my personal favs still).

Just abt half the eps in s2 carry an emotional weight around the stolitz relationship. (where s1 has stolitz is make out sessions and the occasional threat to their life, s2 takes it up to actual life or death situations and full backstories) . This increased tension and focus draws away from the intial episodic format to become a more serialized (and imo) melodrama abt the status of the stolitz relationship. Rather than concern itself over any of the imp characters and their emotions, helluva has made all of its emotional beats and stakes throughtout the whole season relate to stoltiz in some way (or it's parallel with fizz and Ozzie in ep 7).

To return back to the ep, I also take issue with its writing of verosika. I will admit that this could be subjective, as my partner, who loves verosika and was worried abt her writing going into the ep, enjoyed how the ep integrated her. But idk, I think it is so lame that an ep like full moon, which is marketed to be abt stolitz, is fine wasting its time writing the cherubs for 90% of the episode, while can't bother making verosika a larger character in her own ep.

Like she's a SINGER, but no she's back up for STOLAS'S SONG this ep. And it's not stolas's hasn't had the chance to sing love ballads before, he's got plenty. But no, the host of the party can't even be a duet to stolas, she's gotta be back up. Like it couldve been a way stronger connection between these two if they sang a duet, rather than the show AGAIN prioritizing verbalizing stolas's emotions again.

We get a full flashback to blitzo's relationship with both fizz and stolas, but nothing on his other significant relationship??? Just a line or two of how it went down and that's it??

Side tangent: It gets on my nerves how so many people are realizing now that verosika is not a bad person. Like it's clear from even in her intro ep in s1 ep 3 she's angry rightfully for how blitzo screwed her over. But now that she actually is being nice and forgiving to stolas and blitzo respectively, now she has earned the fandom's respect??? Like the amt of comments of "Oh wow, verosika isn't a villain, she's an anatognist" drives me insane

Like to me, this ep should've stepped away from stolas directly, and focus on blitzo and verosika. Have blitzo go back to ignoring his feelings by jumping back head first into business, now with the asmodeous crystal. Then bump into verosika somehow. However it may happen, verosika and blitzo, either angrily or calmly, reflect on their own past relationship at the end, which might have blitzo making a realization of how he is repeating his past mistakes. Use the episodic format to slowly allow blitzo to mature so the next time he meets stolas, he won't just double down like he did in the beginning of the ep.

I think, personally, the decision to have verosika host the anti blitzo party diminishes her as a character. It chooses to again define her by how blitzo hurt her, rather than touching on the other underdeveloped parts of her character. She has shown to be very petty yes, but to go through all this effort seems too much, since she is a pop star and should have better things to do.

Maybe explore how she, a succubus, who is meant to have primarily sexual relationships, goes abt on her day to day as a celebrity who went to rehab. Or her relationship with maybe knowing barbie. Or the other ways to explore the set ups for her in ep 3. But no, she plays second fiddle to her second focus ep for the stoltiz drama. But yeah sure, let's have full moon be abt the cherubs.

On a final and likely my most pettiest point, this ep made me cringe a lot. I'm sorry, this is very subjective of me, but I need to say it. So much of this ep felt like fanfic. Always hammering in how "he's a prince and you're an imp" kind of deal. Stolas getting overly drunk after taking a swig of one drink to have blitzo handle him being drunk. The million puppy dog eyes by blitzo, like it felt too pitying. The rushed pacing felt like a result of this indulgent kind of writing, where it priotizes creating the cute shipping scenes before thinking about the actual plot and its effect later on. Again, just my taste tho

Alright I think I ranted enough but ...

Tl;dr: Apology tour messes up the pacing and focus of the show by continously centering itself around the stolitz drama rather than allowing time to reflect by themselves

[nothums-from-tj]

Returning to my series of “barely anyone else cares abt this ship that I’m crying over so I’m gonna make a post abt them myself”: Mordeson edition

If you don’t like the ship please just fuckin scroll I don’t need anyone clowning today thnx

I have so many things I want to write and draw however I am so overwhelmed so I’m spewing my nonsense onto Tumblr to feed the like 3 people paying attention to these dorks <3 for the most part here are just like tiny little hcs/moments/ideas of them that have infected my brain. Cut provided to make it not unbelievably long for the rest of my followers

Categories: headcanons, ideas, “cutaways” (basically my iterations of what happens post-episode endings or in the midst of flashbacks/stories, between scenes, etc.)

I’d also like to thank @mushtoons for letting me yap abt them in DMs/on Discord, some of these in which I’m copy/pasting from my side of conversations with them <3

Headcanons:

-Mordecai sometimes patches up Benson’s hand(s) after usually breaking it by punching something out of anger on varying occasions

-the way they likely comforted one another during the Margaret, CJ, and Audrey heartbreaks with Benson probably gave Mordecai harder/grosser jobs to keep his mind off things and Mordecai gave Benson excuses to head home late to lessen the chances of bumping into Audrey

-the car radio along with show/movie nights consist of more bickering than watching/listening to anything

-Benson is the Worst backseat driver and Mordecai has to try to politely tell him he’s going to lose his mind if he tells him where to make the correct turn to both of their place of work; that said, for both of their sanity, Benson usually drives when they’re together

-there are days where Mordo has to literally force Benson to stay home bc he's either so sick he can hardly stand, so overwhelmed he can't think, or is in so much pain his body is practically crumbling beneath him

-sometimes when Benson gets reeeally into a beat, drumming on the steering wheel or a pen against his clipboard or something of the sort, Mordecai will try to start singing along to it so he’ll remember it for practice or whatever

-he has thrown hands over people trashing Benson behind his back

-and he has to semi-frequently talk/hold Benson out of a self-deprecating spiral

-Mordecai's parents absolutely adore Benson and were some of the first people to say "so when's the wedding!!!!" when first introducing him as his bf

-the opposite happened when Benson introduced Mordecai to his parents; I’d say his parents got divorced when he was young and his mom was kinda chill though his dad was kinda passive aggressive and just didn’t really put in a lot of heart, though Mordecai learned a lot more abt him from his dad than his mom

-Mordecai is the first to say “I love you” and Benson bawls on the spot

-Mordecai draws/doodles Benson during meetings/assignments when he starts to develop feelings for him

-Mordecai gets crazy flustered at pet names bc he doesn’t expect them whatsoever; he’s always been the one giving them rather than receiving, though he always appreciates them

-Benson is also crazy touch starved while Mordecai can be pretty jealous so usually in public they’re always seen touching in some way; one leg over the other when sitting, handholding when walking, an arm around the other’s waist/shoulders, etc.

-they prob hooked up at least 1 (one) time pre-relationship and swore they’d never tell anyone abt it

-Margaret and Mordecai are platonic soulmates as much as it is a dismay to most their romantic relationships; Benson is the first/only one of Mordecai's partners to fully accept this

Ideas (if anyone writes these before I get around to them pleeeeease please send it to me I’d cry /pos):

-swap AU of sorts where they have a secret relationship while Rigby and Eileen are more “center of attention”

-in addition, switching up Benson and CJ in a lot of scenarios make a lot of sense (specifically thinking of “New Year’s Kiss” and “Thomas’ Play Date”)

-Benson is such a little cuddle bug, Mordecai gets totally thrown off guard by how affectionate he is when they start dating

-Benson gets stuck having to watch his sister’s kid for the day while on the clock and as much as he loves seeing and hanging out w them he can’t do much while at work, asks Mordecai and Rigby to hang out w them for a bit until he’s done what he needs to and he later gets confused why his heart does weird flip-floppy things to see Mordecai being an amazing babysitter later

-Benson having a rough day mentally and asks to reschedule a date, which Mordecai asks if he’s ok and wants company which he doesn’t wanna “be a burden” or thinks Mordo won’t want to be around his sad self all day and he has to be kinda regularly reminded, “You’re my boyfriend, Ben. I always want you around.”

-Benson getting nightmares and/or flashbacks of the dome experiments and Mordo does his best to help through the severe paranoia and skittishness in the morning, unless he wakes up to it happening and he’s able to help him through it/get back to sleep

Cutaways:

-“In The House” Benson was nowhere to be seen until after Rigby finished his house/wizard story which Benson was like right next to Mordecai so I like to think Benson walked in early-ish into Rigby’s story and it’s Mordecai that beckoned him over to include him in the storytelling

-“Weekend At Benson’s” post-ending in which Benson maybe just felt too horrible to bring himself home so he hangs out at the house where Mordecai figures if he and Rigby feel awful already, Benson’s gotta be going through the same thing 10 fold so he sits with him all day doing his best to provide comfort and consolation while Benson spends half the day vomiting and sobbing from the searing pain in his throat

-“Eggscellent” after Benson getting punched, in which Skips probably had to be the one to tell Benson in private that while it’s ok for him to be scared and concerned and to feel betrayed and disrespected, what he said to Mordecai also wasn’t cool before explaining Jonathan Kimble and the journal he found; after apologizing to Mordecai he tries so hard to prove himself by being his biggest cheerleader, trying not to question the eagerness to be by his side and sudden overprotective urges

-“Return of Mordecai and the Rigbys” I think maybe a little bit too much abt the times they’re sent to the hospital and being the first two awake to have a few minutes to chat privately, and some of the dialogue I had in mind to not make this post even longer

-“Dumptown, USA” particularly when Benson went after Audrey broke up w him; maybe he left his phone behind, maybe he didn’t, and I doubt he was gone nearly as long as Mordecai, though he might’ve still been gone a few days to a week and incredibly hard to reach, leaving everyone else panicking over Benson not showing up to work to the point of sending a wellness check and getting ready to file a missing persons report by the time he comes back; Mordo’s the first to see him and instinctively runs to give him a hug, surprising them both

-“White Elephant Gift Exchange” with Benson being pretty OCD coded, similar to the first hc above following the “glove incident” where Benson likely washed his hands like 6 times to the point of cracking bc he didn’t feel “clean” enough (speaking as somebody with OCD and similar experiences)

This isn’t even remotely all of what I have this is just long enough already and I’m trying to figure out how I wanna execute the rest LOL. Anyway if anything here strikes inspiration feel free to write/draw/whatever and tag me bc I’m itching for more content of them I’m losing my mind <3 feel free to talk to me abt these dorks in DMs or my ask box too!!!!

[sunsetstarving]

ok hi i like think i talked abt your ocs with you when you first shared the slides with me but i was going through my drive and i saw it again and i was like ok wait let me look! and i now have Thoughts

- FIRST OFF nefise is like so eldest daughter immigrant trauma. if this makes sense. i also understand why she turns evil for a bit

- dani's like my fave ever btw im like so not normal abt him. just the implications of the whole being someone whos always positive and optimistic (slightly delusional) and then starting to lose all that when the world starts ending. starting to lose yourself bc youre the literal fucking symbol of hope but you cant bring yourslef to be the least bit hopeful. god. rattling him around in my brain

- pls give kore a kazoo. im begging. also a turtle fits the green theme. shes like the coolest btw and i get the whole. like wanting to be someones first chocie but you feel like theyre always going to choose someone that they can love and love them romantically and hating yourself a little bit for not being able to like ouchhh man why you gotta zir like that. ough

- TESNIS LIKE THE BIGGEST LOSER im so obsessed w her. i love that you made her a jock but also a debate kid i think thats the funniest combo. also like the whole trying to remain unchanging/constant like the "if it aint broke dont fix it" mentality but then it DOES break and DANI breaks so then she HAS to change to fix it and. arhghghgh

- felicite!!!!! dude. ok the implications of her being the symbol of chance and the fact that the symbol of chance even exists at all is so crazy to me because like yeah. sometimes it truly is Like That. sometimes things are so out of your control and you can do nothing to stop it its just pure fucking luck and fate and the univesre shifting and ohhhhh god. i am so !!!! amped abt her and skull/fibula btw

- YOOO nefise and dani. idk if youve watched jjk but they are So satosugu coded i will elaborate if youd like but this is rlly long already i might have to take this to disc

- tesni and delshad WILL drive me insane. the absolute vulnerability and horrors of being so deeply known........ ugh

- said this already but. felicite and skull chance and death like broooo the fact that something so horrible something that takes so much from ppl is so closely tied to the concept of randomness and the unknwon. driving me insane

ANYWAYSSS thats like all of it um. yes i have thoughts! anyways

HIIII okay i finally got on desktop it took me a little bit we have been going everywhere. traveling is enjoyable sometimes but also...not always lmao BUT ANYWAY ILY AUGH i've been thinking abt this since last night. HELP all lighthearted but i do not think u ever said anything!! only the discord interaction i have been waiting ever since and boy oh boy.... the personal connection to every single one of them and the way u pointed them out immediately.

YEAH nefise is kind of just Like That. it came with the territory (being the asian character i project on forever) and also like..... the turning evil bit is everything to me bc the way she regrets none of it when she thinks about it from a distance but all it took was the sliver of hesitation, the flicker of exhaustion from constantly throwing herself at every problem, to simply take her down completely and have the team lose her. Yeah

dani my beloved... he was the original knight concept too. upon seeing this i HAD to draw him being a miserable fucker (<- phone battery ran out i will send these once i can grab some pictures!!) *jeopardy voice* what is burning out from the expectation to lead your world to the future despite having none of what you're supposed to be giving

YEAHHHH YOU GET IT. the. knowing that you're not broken and that this is just you but then the people you love make it feel like you shouldn't be the way that you are, that you need to change? forever experience. and while it continues to hurt and i don't think we can escape it i think good friends are a good remedy for the pain... and also ur so right they need a turtle so bad

and AHAHAHA tesni wahoo loser overachiever asian parents' favorite child (good at everything) and also biggest problem (anger issues) of all time. also love the family drama aspect like Yeah ofc she's going to have to change and yield and give ground. she has a sibling to take care of damn it

FELICITE AND FIBULA AOUGH.... this is so funny bc i literally had no clue what she was going to be but then chance sounded good. and then i was like Oh. the Implications of this are horrific. additionally yeah i think abt it all the time.... i've been following this comic series on instagram abt the grim reaper being a kind guy bc he's the messenger, not the one who controls any of it, and like... ouch, you know? the fact that it is unfair and horrible and there is no good timing about it. that sometimes it lines up just in time for a hilarious pun. death and chance being intertwined in the most cosmically random ways but in ways that absolutely make sense.

I STILL HAVEN'T the urge to ask vs the urge to wait until i've gotten to it vs the knowledge i will Not be doing that any time soon and. i should probably ask. pls tell me more in disc i would love to hear

tesni and delshad will kill me btw. that's like. going to suck. i'm gonna be so emotions about it bc it is not something i have yet delved into but i think abt it all the time. even more family drama. all of them scrambling to adjust to some of the most awful news one can never take back. grahh or whatever

anyway. i love this i love u i am SOOO happy you sent this!!!!! i am always so ecstatic to talk about the kids they are so beloved to me fr <333

[yuukei-yikes]

What’s your opinion on Harushin (Haruka and Shintaro)? Can be either platonic or romantic

i love that u had to clarify who they are LMAOOO

hmm well i don't like them romantically. when it comes to the yuukei quartet ships I'd put them at the bottom 💔 mostly cuz i just dont ship haruka with anyone other than takane (but for some reason i pass takane around like a blunt) and also it means a lot to me that the reason haruka recognizes he loves takane is bc he defines shintaro as a friend but feels sad putting takane in the same category bc of the different feelings she entails.

and I HAVE THIS PET PEEVE that is a bit silly and nuanced. and it implies a lil bit of jin bashing so TOTAL AND COMPLETE DISCLAIMER i love jin's work and his characters and i immensely respect everything he's done for this franchise he shares with us and clearly loves. that said fuck his misogynistic fucking writing

i could go on and on and on abt that but to answer this ask specifically, i just HATE that shintaro is so nice to haruka and he's just a total ass to ayano and takane for no goddamn reason. takane was SO nice to him at first, could u imagine the good buddies they would've been if shintaro was fucking normal. and shintaro LITERALLY stands in a 2 hour line at the festival just to insult her😭😭😭 he didn't even KNOW her. he's like "u act like this big shot bc all these ppl fawn over you" as if takane hadn't been literally sobbing miserably the whole afternoon precisely bc people were fawning over her and she found it mortifying. bc ofc he didnt know that!! LIKE WHAT WAS THE DAMN REASON HE DID THIS HES CRAZY i will never know what was going thru jin's mind writing that bit but ig all i can do is imagine shintaro was like GIRLS CANT PLAY GAMES *SHAKING* i know im always talking abt shintaro and takane's friendship and how much i love them but god the writing in the hs days is just inexcusable like shintaro is so damn unlikable. i hate when they put him and takane in the same level of irrational arguers bc truly takane is just fucking defending herself. how would u treat a person who didnt even give u a damn chance and just says all that shit to u first meeting. and she's also speaking for ayano too cuz her ass wont defend herself. and also haruka wont say anything. like takanes fighting for her life in here i 10000% support her actions as ene cuz man fuck that guy i find it insane she still cared for him anyway

and it pisses me off that then we see him in novel 6 being totally capable of being a decent fucking person to haruka. like seriously what's his damage. also idk japanese but i THINK shintaro speaks in a polite manner to haruka and not to ayano and takane. obligatory joke im gay not bc i like men but bc i hate women etc etc etc

i could rly go on abt how much it annoys me haruka and shintaro's friendship is super developed opposed to ayano and takane's pathetic dynamic that doesnt pass the already stupid bechdel test (i actually ranted a lil bit abt it on my side twitter a few days ago if you wanna read it LMAO) (it starts as a thread abt harutaka but then i get sidetracked cuz...yeah) BUT THIS IS ABT HARUKA AND SHINTARO SO. yeah u could excuse it with shintaro being the protag and ofc getting a lot more focus on his relationships but still. i kinda resent this aspect of their dynamic so i don't like the ship teehee i just... i think haruka is way too good for him sorry shintaro my man. i say this while shipping shinaya i know but to be fair i make them go through hell in my mind before they can properly be happy together if at all. bc when i start going off abt all this stuff i also start resenting shinaya LMAOOO sometimes i say i like it out of nostalgia but then their whole story together and how theyre literally always destined to find each other (holds head) ok. thats aside the point. i have a complicated relationship to shinaya. it's all abt drawing the line between author and creation and how much u can say augh author is being annoying and augh character is just an ass on purpose. and compared to the pov of all the other kagepro characters, u can indeed see that sexism shit in all of it (i could whip out examples in a second)but on shintaro it is noticeably worse LOL

and again im not blaming fictional characters for author's misogyny, like someone is writing this duuuh which is why haruka never points it out but FROM MY insane perspective i interpret it as haruka recognizing the pattern but he's so damn spineless he can't bring himself to stand up for ayano and takane. he probably makes some comments that shintaro just dimisses and haruka is too nervous to bring them up again *me going off abt the internalized misogyny of fictional characters headcanoned based on the author being misogynistic*

ERM. ANOTHER REMINDER I LOVE KAGEPRO AND I RESPECT JIN FOREVER BC HE IS THE CREATOR OF ALL MY FAVORITE CHARACTERS. but also lol. doesn't mean i cant point out some of this stuff yknooooow

uhhh soooo platonic wise i love them. but its also not my favorite dynamic to explore, id repeat some of the stuff ive already written, it does bother me shintaro is Normal to haruka and not to ayano and takane and haruka acts like nothing. it's just a big thing that annoys me generally abt them lol and i find it tough to separate from author like i normally would with these weird things he includes because this bit is just a whole dynamic you know?? i could.... go on abt this but um. sorry ive been talking for a while. its definitely something im kinda bitter about in the writing.

but still they're definitely sweet, and i understand the appeal completely!!! these are just My thoughts i think its 2023 and i wont get death threats for not liking a ship anymore but also haruka is shintaro's bisexual awakening that is for damn sure. i like entertaining the onesided concept. shintaro being like hahahaha what if we kisssed like ayano and takane apparently did and haruka is like No thanks.

[herrling]

isnt it crazy how people can selfship with murderer characters but people draw the line when the character is (i presume he is) racist

i hate using this rhetoric bc it gets u thrown into the bin with the freaks who use it to justify shit on an entirely different level, but my guy, it is Fiction. he is not or inherently affecting anybody. people might not like seeing a racist character, and that is perfectly fine. that is why you block them. that is why you filter tags. it's not the posters fault for simply posting about him; he is a fictional character, not an inherently triggering topic.

hell, none of this even has to do with you since you just wanted to (god forbid) offer your support to someone you don't know and didn't immediately make assumptions of.

idk if the person themselves is racist or likes the fact that he's racist so im only speaking abt the character. also, this certainly wasn't directed at you. sorry you have to go through this. people are assholes and jump to conclusions.

again, i understand both parties, really. but i wouldn't be so confused if there weren't things like AUs, personal perception of the characters, etc. like if the person likes a character for being racist and keeps it like that, that's where the problem begins. but people seem to not give it any chance. that's fine, but also makes me wanna keep distance

[kirabasai]

beautiful additions. don't hide them in the tags i love them. i was actually discussing w my friend king (he doesn't have a tumblr sadly ik but he has ao3) more abt this earlier so i'm gonna dump some things we've discussed/brainrotted so far.

on the hair, lilia's pink/red streaks are actually dyed LMAO so that might not be a marker. i initially said the marker is the eyes, yuu and lilia's eyes are VERY similar, but king made me see the light by proposing lilia's little ear tufts that look like bat wings.

malleus and silver see it and INSTANTLY make the connection. they actually look similar enough that ppl look at them and go huh, must be cousins and never mention it around them because it never comes up. cousins because who would assume that a third year is a first year's bio dad? nobody! except malleus and silver. they Know. they have the horrifying realization that they're father has bred like oh my god, he actually at some point got someone pregnant. they do NOT wanna think of their dad in that context. they didn't even consider he was capable of it. poor silver has struggle sleeping.

but like, lilia was fucking WILD at some pt man. it's a miracle he doesn't have 20 bastard children running around and this yuu is the only one. he has decades of child support to pay lmao.

we were thinking this yuu was born sometime after malleus hatched (a very rough time in lilia's life), so that time period between malleus hatching and silver being found. accidental fulfillment of the forgotten middle child prophecy lmaoo. but yeah statistically it's most likely for yuu to be a full fae so that's what i decided. king and i had a brief thing where we weren't sure abt the genetics of it, but in the end we decided the bat fae gene is recessive (based on a couple things) so rlly yuu ending up bat fae was luck of the draw and fate fucking w lilia once more. we also decided on her being 142 because that's a nice even number, and based on our eyeballing and at-a-glimpse math of how bat faes age that would make her abt 14 in human years. she got to nrc early because she's good at magic. so technically she is simultaneously the youngest and the middle child if u think abt it lolol

as for yuu's mom, she doesn't give a fuck abt lilia! or anyone/anything tbh. she's out chilling in the twst maldives with a glass of wine in her hand while her only daughter (we at this pt decided this yuu was she based on vibes) was off at school. she doesn't care abt if yuu meets or finds her father because tbf yuu's mom doesn't even know herself— could have been anyone really.

king also suggested giving yuu a neglectful childhood from an alcoholic parent for angst and i loved that. we love angst here. king said its incentive for yuu to be taken in by her bio dad and u know what that's fair. i was already on board before he even said that because i love making my characters be angsty.

this yuu sorta gives me "so self sufficient never even considered there was neglect" vibes. like that's just their normal. in her head it's like, all families are different. and besides ppl cook the meals at home instead of their parents all the time, doesn't see an issue w the fact she started to do this younger than most because her mom occasionally forgot to cook for both of them. she's probably kind of casual about her home life too because she thinks it's normal.

riddle's overblot is probably a culture shock to her because to well adjusted ppl they look and go, oh his mom is a helicopter parent and abusive and probably a bit crazy. YUU however looks at riddle and is thinking is this guy in jail or smth, because she literally can not perceive a parent being like that. literal opposites.

taking the whole school year to find out WOULD be funny, maybe as an offshoot oneshot moment instead of the actual fic though. because sadly and realistically the chances of sebek not being in the room whenever yuu and lilia are with each other until the end of the school year are slim. that, and lilia knows his boys are hiding something from him (malleus & silver still do not know if they should tell him, let alone how to broach the topic)

when lilia is officially introducing malleus and silver to her as her brothers lilia would probably also say something like "hmm, though i suppose if you were to go into technicalities, malleus would be your third-brother" (like half-brother. i strongly hc lilia/reven/maleanor and we also don't know how dragon reproduction works so for all we know malleus could have 2 bio dads. just saying). and it'll b a ??????? moment for all 3 siblings because they do not have the context to know that lilia means third brother as in yuu and malleus share ⅓ dna from him. realistically they all might consider that there's another brother they don't know about, or does lilia mean sebek?? they do not know. honestly it's probably like dad lore.

twst au where yuu is lilia's illegitimate child. lilia had a rough time you know, had a lot of one night stands, doesn't even remember over half of them. totally reasonable. so yuu turns up to nrc and lilia is oblivious because the notion of having a bio child has never occurred to him. but malleus and silver notice. they're staring at yuu suspiciously and then looking at each other like... you see it, right..... that person looks a LOT like dad, right.... like A LOT a lot..... yeah. and yuu is also oblivious!!! yuu's never considered who their father may be. they see lilia and are like oh cool another bat fae, don't see too many of those.

lilia snd yuu unironically bonding over both of them being bat faes w/o ever realizing they're father and child.

silver and malleus are in conspiratorial whispers like. DO WE TELL THEM.

in the end it's sebek who tells them but it's like, complete accident. like oh lilia-sama!!! i was not aware you had a blood child!!! and they're both like. ???? what — but then it processes and they're like, wait. pause. squints at each other. looks in a mirror. PAUSE.

[ot3]

hi hello i was rereading some quantum meruit pages and i was wondering! where did you learn comp like this!! its crazy distinctive and cool (you now own the primary colors, legally) and i'm curious abt ur process 👀

first of all thank you so much i really appreciate it!!

i wrote on this subject a little while back but that was almost a full year ago at this point so i've got some more to say and don't really feel like that post was super concise. that post i think tends to cover mostly the design philosophy but less about the actual mechanical execution of it so ill try and give a little of that now

i've been wanting to do a big writeup about composition for awhile now but i've been finding it really hard because the truth is it's more or less a completely intuitive process for me. i just go until it feels right. but i think the main reason my compositions look the way they do is because of my approach to tangents so i'll just talk about that + a couple other tidbits as best as im able here

there’s a lot to be said about tangents. this post is a REALLY good primer for thinking about tangents but i’ll boil it down even more to basically my own personal guiding rule: no two edges should ever touch, and no three edges should intersect. 

essentially;

i will almost never break these two rules. unless i’m feeling really tired and just want to move on without micromanaging everything i will make sure that every shape on the page is organized by these principles. i would rather break the perspective or the stuff i’m drawing and make it less technically accurate if it means i can avoid a tangent. 

obviously, the more shapes you have in an image the MUCH harder this becomes. gonna try and break this down with some page examples so you can see how that sort of manifests outside of a deeply abstracted visual

heres a page that has some of the most overlapping shapes out of every page in this whole shebang

overall, i managed to do a decent job keeping everything distinct but i started getting sloppier as things got more crowded and i got dick of working on it.here you can see highlighted in green every instance where i think elements get too close to sharing an edge or intersecting improperly. not a huge amount but you can see theres still a significant presence of it. but theyre all extremely small

chances are probably no one noticed these problematic areas except for me, especially the really small ones. so what’s to gain by being so anal about it? well the answer for me at least is that it allows heavy geometry to exist while still feeling organic. when things intersect abruptly or share edges it forces them into a sort of implied grid almost, and really makes everything feel much more artificial and lacking in depth than you want it to.

by being VERY careful about where and how things are allowed to touch both on the micro scale and the macro scale, it just allows me to make sure that the very flat and static images and objects in my panels still feel like theyre flowing because the way your eye is lead Between these objects doesn’t follow a stark geometric grid

heres a couple of breakdowns of what this actually looks like for larger compositional elements. when you break the ‘panels’ so to speak down into just their base shapes you can see the way theyre arranged to carefully follow these rules of overlapping and intersecting

(the phoenix ‘panel’ and mia and greg ‘panel’ in that last one have a shared edge on the left side, but thats intentional as theyre sharing a physical space)

of course, theres minor mistakes on every page. but to just be really actively considering this while i work helps me place the objects in a pleasing way

my speech bubbles also have to follow these same rules of overlap, which helps dictate the flow of the eye through the page. the way elements flow into each other is also REALLY important - you should understand exactly what paths you want your audience’s eye to follow. with comics you have the luxury of speech bubbles for that. a lot of my pages get away with disjointed paneling because of the flow of the speech bubbles. 

a lot of the time this ends up looking like a big S curves to take full advantage of the proportions of the page

if i wasnt working with speech bubbles, there’d be other visual elements here that i’d use to guide the eye in a similar fashion. 

heres some pages that have stuff going onto them thats closer to the way i’d direct the eye in an illustration. its super obvious and heavyhanded but that doesnt make it bad. its doing what its supposed to.

i also think understanding exactly what you’re trying to get across with the composition is critical, because the page layouts themselves convey information, rather than just being simple scaffolding that your actual visuals rest on top of, if that makes any sense.

for example these pages get forced into these strict nesting verticals, which not only provide a claustrophobic visual as things are sort of crushed between them, but theyre designed to mimic elevator doors. this is a visual motif used specifically for indicating that Edgeworth Is Freaking Out About Shit Right now. 

i think that imagery is pretty clear on its own, but since i’m working in a comic format i have the small luxury of being able to establish my own visual language. a composition might not have a clear meaning on it’s first time being shown, but through repetition it becomes shorthand for conveying a certain feeling. 

here’s a page composition i keep using for phoenix. none of these pages are particularly special compositionally on its own but by repeating this same visual motif i’m retroactively imbuing it with the narrative significance i wanted it to have. whether or not anyone is consciously picking up on it, there’s going to be a twinge of familiarity every time it’s seen that helps hammer in the character stuff i’m going for.

then similarly theres pages that are designed to interplay with each other on a less 1:1 scale, like these pages of edgeworth and mia which is just the same composition flipped upside down. They’re both supposed to get a feeling of a sort of disempowerment across, but not in the same way. 

basically i guess if there’s one takeaway from all of this its to be deliberate

i know i said this is an intuitive process for me but just because that’s the case it doesn’t mean it’s an automatic one. every single element in an image is placed with intent to convey a specific feeling or lead the eye in a specific direction. if youre really thinking about what you’re doing youll get better at accomplishing what youre trying to do. theres no wrong way to do it so you just have to try and figure out what you like. 

i hope any of this was helpful !

[hesther-mcg]

melodies to kiss to

request: @copperbitches: you and Bolin dance at a party and kiss or something cute like that..

pairing: bolin x reader 

warnings: none, just some kissesssss

a/n: idk why it wont let me tag u that’s literally the acc u sent the ask from asnmxlkxkzmak anyways here it is!! after forever!! sorry abt that hehe. also added some brosami bc that’s the friendship we ALL DESERVED. i hope you like this, requests are currently closed but i have a TON of stuff on the way!! i did a WIP tag the other day if you’re interested in looking for it 

also i have my first person on my tag list!! hehe yay!! love my wife sm 

tag list: @noodlesfluffy​ 

Laughs filtered through the air, along with the clinking of glasses and the chatter of companions. Everyone you knew to be apart of your crazy life after meeting Korra and getting swept up in Avatar Business™ was gathered, and then there were others you weren’t familiar with mixed in. However, this did nothing to hinder your mood, and you danced freely with Ikki on the dance floor regardless of who was around. 

Bolin watched you from afar, a dreamy grin on his face. He stood with Mako and Wu, who had tagged along with his brother. The three were on the far side of the room, and Wu was going on about something or another, and Bolin couldn’t find it in himself to listen. Not when you were dressed so nicely, or when your eyes twinkled as you laughed loudly, or when you twirled around with the one person who seemed to match your energy perfectly, or when he kept thinking about you with and his daughter in another life. 

He didn’t notice when Wu dragged Mako away, and he also didn’t notice the hostess of the party herself replace them. Not until she cleared her throat and he jerked his head to the side. “Oh, hey, Asami...” he grinned shyly, his cheeks warming at having been caught in the act. 

“Hey, Bolin,” she grinned. “Whatcha doing?” She questioned knowingly. 

“Ah,” he hesitated, voice rising in pitch. “Nothing, nothing. Just,” he shrugged his shoulders and extended his arms out. “Enjoying this party you threw! Congratulations by the way!” 

Asami nodded her head with a grin, knowing there was more to it. “Thank you, Bolin, it really means a lot. We’ve been working really hard at Future Industries so I Korra and I thought it’d be a good idea to celebrate,” she smiled as her eyes scanned the crowd for the girl mentioned. Bolin did the same, and his heart melted when he spotted you. 

You were dragging Korra onto the dance floor, Ikki at your side with the older girls other hand grasped tightly. When the pair of you managed to drag her out there, triumphant laughs and high fives and all, she picked you both up and spun you around. “You know, (y/n) is a really great person,” Asami chimed, and the earthbender dragged his eyes away from you. “I mean, we all love them, and they have so much potential,” he looked at Bolin and leaned in a bit closer. “And we know that you like them.” 

He choked on air, and jerked away from the girl like she’d zapped him with her electric glove. “W-what?” He asked, drawing the word out. “No I don’t,” he laughed nervously. “Asami, don’t be silly.” 

“Oh, come on, Bo,” she shook her head. “You’re not that slick.” 

Bolin sighed, and his shoulders slumped. She was right, he wasn’t that slick. You probably already knew of his feelings and hadn’t spoke on them because you didn’t return them. “But,” Asami’s voice lifted his head, his curiosity peaking at her tone. “I happen to know that they actually feel the same about you, and I’m tired of watching the two of you lie to yourselves about the other. So I’m going to help you make a move at this party because I love you, and you deserve this.” 

Warmth spread across his chest and he launched himself forward, wrapping his arms around Asami in a tight hug. She laughed and returned the gesture, laying her head on his. “Thanks, Sami,” he whispered. 

“Of course, Bo,” she whispered back, and the moment was oh so sweet, and it reminded him why he had always liked having her around. She was good, and nice, and smart, and would always be there for you. After another moment they pulled away from one another, and Bolin stared at her excitedly as she watched you, Ikki, and Korra cause an absolute scene on the dance floor. 

“Okay, so I really think you should ask them to dance. It’s way better than just standing around talking, it gives you something else to focus on so your nerves aren’t settled on just one thing,” she informed. 

“You want me to dance with them?! What if I step on their feet, or-” he rambled, but Asami cut him off. 

“Bolin, this song is about to end and you’re going to ask them to dance.” She stared him straight in the eyes and left no room for discussion, he had to do this now or he never would; and you would just keep telling yourselves that it’s just unrequited love.

It most certainly wasn’t just unrequited love. 

And all too soon, before he could pull himself out of his thoughts, the music drifted off and people scattered from the dance floor, taking a break between songs, and his heart leapt up into his throat. “Oh look, here they come!” Asami whispered as she waved, and when he looked he spotted you and Korra heading right for them. The adrenaline began coursing through his veins as if he was about to face a mighty villain, and he could have shit himself then and there. 

“Hey, guys,” Korra greeted, and wrapped her arm around Asami’s shoulders. She placed a kiss on the taller girl’s cheek, and she grinned brightly. 

“Hello to you too,” Asami chuckled. “That was quite the show you guys put on, I’m impressed.” 

“Thanks, it’s just one of my many talents,” you boasted jokingly, wiping your shoulder. “I break that shit down.” 

Bolin laughed, despite the maelstrom of emotions he was experiencing. “You sure did,” he chimed in, only slightly awkwardly, and you smiled at him. That sent a slight boost of confidence through him, and he proceeded on. “I-I was actually wondering if we could, maybe, catch the next, uh, slow song?” He stuttered through his question, cheeks bright red. 

“Sure!” You exclaimed excitedly, and your own cheeks heated up at your reaction. “I mean, yeah, of course, Bolin.” You smiled sweetly at him. 

“Well, the music should be starting soon, and I have some conversing to do,” Asami cuts in, exchanging a glance with her girlfriend. “So I’ll see you guys later. You coming, Korra?” 

“Sure thing,” she answered, allowing herself to be led away, throwing a wink at you over her shoulder. You didn’t get a chance to react, as a slow melody began filtering through the air, and you made eye contact with the boy in front of you. 

“Uh, shall we?” He asked, and you both chuckled at how cheesy it sounded. You nodded and grabbed his hand, pulling him to the middle of the floor. His heart raced the whole way there, and didn’t slow down when you placed your arms gently around his neck. 

“Is-is this okay?” He questioned as his hands barely touched the fabric covering your waist. Always the gentleman, that one. 

“Yeah, yeah,” you replied softly, eyes scanning his face. “It’s kind of perfect, actually.” 

He looked at you in surprise, and you just stared back, bodies swaying to the soft music. “It’s perfect?” He questioned just as softly. 

“Yeah,” you nodded. “It is perfect. I was wondering if you would ask me to dance tonight,” you confessed, voice so light Bolin had to lean in to hear you. “I was leaning towards no, so I’m pretty satisfied with where we are.” 

He grinned, mesmerized by you. His eyes never left your face, nothing else around you mattered. They flickered between your eyes, sparkling from the lights he and Mako had hung up over the dance floor when they had aided in the set up. Then they landed on your lips, and the words left his mouth before he could stop himself. 

“Well, then can I also ask if I-” his eyes went back to yours, and he faltered for a moment, but the curious look you had told him he had to continue. “Can I also ask if I can kiss you?” 

You nodded after a moment, his question having to register in your mind. He wanted to kiss you? And he answered you by leaning in closer and brushing his lips against your own, enough to heat your face up but not enough to satisfy you. 

You placed your hand on the back of his neck and pulled him back in after he began pulling away, and he grinned against your lips. The melodies, the lights, the dance, and Bolin, it was all perfect. 

[percydarling]

I'll be honest,if the weasley kids had a tv show I would have percy as my favourite. Bill aand charlie arent in it so I wouldnt have an opinion (they're obviously hinted at but never there) Arthur's gonna annoy me kinda, molly is really nice but she always compares her kids. Ron (as lovely as he is) can be really mean to percy and just sucky to him. I love Ginny but everyone knows jk made her because "girl power= not feminine traits!1!1!1!" I love her,I love her love for quidditch but I feel like I still clearly see what she represents and that's jks sentiments (like cho for example, as an asian it's never gonna leave my mind). The twins would be great in theory but 2 twins insulting their older brother, burning a hole through their brothers tongue? Pranking everybody ALL THE TIME? I say I love them but seriously if I studied at hogwarts I would loathe them because hey, were in class- prank somebody in a more boring one or after. Also they're way too mean to percy.

Percy is the kinda dude I'd identify with, I hate how his family shames him alot. Sure hes ambitious but at the same time I hate when they bully him for his pride in his prefect badge and his head boy badge, like CMON! Gryffindor traits??? PRIDEFUL like yeah hes gonna be happy because he feels accomplished. I remember getting into model un and I talked about it at dinner time,my siblings got kinda annoyed but did they insult me abt it? No! They understood that this was a big part of my pride. They teased me a little "Haha model un-er" or "your rooms the country your representing right? Oops I dont have my passport" regular happy sibling stuff. You dont insult your brothers pride and joy, it's obvious hes so happy about it.

If there's gonna be a show on the Weasley family, the only interestee Weasley I would be watching is for Percy. Now let's go through every Weasley.

Arthur- at work, never home, if at home in shed exploring muggle things instead of probably bonding with his children.

Molly-would do chores, help children and maybe chat with next door neigbour. A slight chance of bonding with kids. Not very entertaining really.

Bill and Charlie- I mean depends whether they're even there or gone. If they're there they'd probably argue with each other. Maybe we'll get the Bill earring story and Charlie dragon obsession. Other than that maybe sibling bonding which is always good.

Twins- I cannot emphasize enough as to why I wouldn't watch the twins, if there was such a tv show. Each episode they'll probably prank someone most probably Ron and Percy. And then these pranks would get violent and physical and they would still be the saints and Percy the villain.

I mean the twins cause Ron's phobia, almost make him take the Unbreakable Vow (Ron was 5!) and then beat his Puffskein to death.

AND PUFFSKEIN IS AN ANIMAL.

And that's only Ron. If I start on Percy the jokes are endless but let's just end with the twins tried to locked Percy in a pyramid( God knows how old!). Enough said.

Ron- We already have Ron content in the book. Do we really need more? Yes we do but not if it's Ron insulting Percy. And if this show was before Harry and Hogwarts then Ron would be a young child like 9-10 years old and I personally wouldn't be interested. I love Ron but he loses absolutely no moment to insult or bitch about his brother. Plus Ron is whiny. Sometimes.

Ginny- They'll probably make her a Mary Sue who can do no wrong. They would seriously do that and make her a female version of the twins. Sorry not interested in watching her.

When we come to Percy there are so many things we can do. We can see bonding with Bill or Charlie. Percy being a good older brother and helping with nightmares. Percy being his mother's support system. Percy helping Arthur with his work. Percy teaching Ron chess. Percy planning a prank with twins. Percy playing dolls with Ginny.

With Percy you can relate him to everyone in some way or another. We know Molly loves Percy and probably considers him her favorite. Probably. Arthur with the Ministry so Percy and Ministry. Percy going to Bill with help for studies. Percy helping Charlie research about dragons.(Percy telling Charlie his dormmate is crazy about quidditch and asking if Charlie could give him tips and an autograph)

Percy playing chess with Ron. We know Percy is protective over Ron and Ginny. So we can assume that Percy teaches Ron chess and helps him read. Percy reading to Ginny about Harry Potter.(Really though who else would have? Molly would be busy and Bill and Charlie wouldn't)

Or we can have Percy writing stuff. Short stories and articles. Percy being a writer. Percy singing , dancing or drawing. Percy sneaking to Muggle town and talking to them.

Percy finding Scabbers.

Percy going to the Lovegood residence and talking with Luna's mother because she is such an amazing person.

(And taking her death the hardest)

Also Percy bonding with Luna.

Percy bonding with Uncle Billius or Great Aunt Muriel. Also reminsing time with Uncle Gideon and Fabian.

Percy having babysitter called Lily Potter who looked just like him but with bright green eyes. She reads to him about adventure stories and tells him she loves him very much and once brought her husband with her(who's an animagus!)

(While his brothers rejoiced the fall of You Know Who, Percy cried because Miss Lily and Mr James were dead. That was the time Percy realised that bad things happen to good people)

Well to put it in short there are so many angles with Percy which makes him interesting in my opinion.

If they do make let's hope they don't screw Percy over like they did with him in that damn game.

Also for that Percy interacting with Muggles there's an interesting fanfic called Percy's Diary.

https://m.fanfiction.net/s/7542632/1/Percy-s-Diary

☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆

Percy is the only Weasley who I can relate to which makes me love him more. I am an elder sibling, have been constantly insulted by family and friends for following rules and very rarely been put down for being excited for something.

And the whole making fun of Percy is bullying when they're laughing at him and not with him.

These 2 prepositions make all the difference when it comes to teasing and bullying.

And the twins are bullies. They are.

"Oh, are you a prefect, Percy? You should've said something, we had no idea."

This is one of the lines they say.

How much do you want to bet that the twins didn't say something like this to Bill when he became prefect and HeadBoy?

Percy was a constant butt of their jokes and pranks, including bewitching his prefect and Head Boy badges to read Pinhead and Bighead Boy respectively, and sending dragon dung to his office at the Ministry.

This is from the official wikia. People can try to make the twins saint and say it was all good natured and everything. But I will always see the twins as bullies.

And the thing is the twins and Ron never bothered to praise Percy and that just feels wrong. Everytime they talk about Percy it's qn insult. When I talk about my brother to an acquaintance I don't insult him unlike Ron.

I feel that as Percy fans we love him because he is complicated. He isn't like the rest of the Weasleys. He isn't charming or funny. He's just a normal guy trying to do better and Percy fans get it because it's relatable. We can relate to being ordinary. He doesn't have earrings or pranks or a saviour best friend. He's just a guy who follows rules and wants to be successful. Who wouldn't relate with that?

And maybe some of us have been ridiculed just like Percy so we understand. We also understand that this is Harry's biased view and all he has been told about Percy is usually by Ron or the twins who insult him on a regular basis. And Harry is no better! He uses words like pompously like he understands how a person talks pompously?

So I love Percy a lot because I relate to him and I would never in my life apologise for loving such a complicated character.

[cassyapper]

Apart from Jotaro and Kakyoin (unfortunately) what are your other favourite jojo ships? I’d love to know

OHHHH POST YOUVE OPENED A CAN OF FUCKING WORMS LET ME GO OFF

i have a disease that makes me invested in the joestars’ happiness to an absurd level so bc of that a lot of ships i enjoy involve,,,one joestar,,,but there r others i swear let me just start rantingi

jonaeriwagon is soooooo so so cute it involves the most wholesome and purehearted jojo characters and it makes me smile so wide. erina and jonathan r childhood sweethearts and erina helped jonathan back on his feet after he lost EVERYTHING in the first fight against dio at the mansion. jonathan and speedwagon are best FRIENDS OKAY!! SPEEDWAGON LITERALLY CHANGES HIS ENTIRE WALK OF LIFE BECAUSE OF JONATHAN AND THE KINDNESS HE SHOWED HIM. i know erina and speedwagon didn't interact a whole lot in part 1 but like they're BEST. FRIENDS. in part 2, so much so joseph thought something was going on between them. i bring this up bc then it’s proof that this ship is full of ppl who just care for each other so much. they just adore each other and love each other and I'm crying

caejoseq is my FAVVV OKAY they're so stupid and in love. i love love love love imagining caesar and suziq falling in love slowly when he’s first training as lisalisa’s student and like they never do anything about it cause they're both so shy (yes caesar is shy bc these feelings r more genuine romance rather than sexual, unlike his other flings) but it’s obvious enough they both understand to a degree the other knows they like them sjkd;dn cuties. but then JOSEPH BARGES IN with his stupid hamon-breathing mask and his stupid blue-green eyes and his stupid lax personality combined with the moments he takes thing seriously during which is works hard as fuck/smart as fuck. he just completely sweeps them off their feet they had no fuckin warning whatsoever. so after a bunch of messy and intense pining from the both of them they eventually sit down and are like okay. we should do smth about feelings actually. so they Do and it ends with the polycule and I'm (”: smiling so wide they loved each other do u understand

AVPOL!! DO NOT GET ME STARTED OKAY it’s the survivor’s guilt and cherishing and longing for me sis!!!!!! I'm just saying both have pasts (araki said avdol’s backstory was so sad he didn't wanna put it into sdc so that’s where I'm drawing this from) that leave them focused on things other than their direct happiness/their own futures but then they connect and even though they're so fucking different they are SOOO different they're still the same on this level and i think!!! that would be everything for them finally someone who understands...listen I'm ging to go insane do you hear me. avdol loves this stupid fucking Frenchman so much because said stupid fucking Frenchman just cares so much about everything. meanwhile polnareff is in love with this fuckin god of a man who’s patient and kind and funny and a skilled enough fighter it’s stated explicitly in canon “oh avdol’s the one we need to worry about most not jotaro” like fuck polnareff is ENAMOURED WITH HIM!! AND I DONT FUCKING BLAME HIM!! and just dude. when pol thinks avdol came back to life and he starts crying tears of joy and hugs him so tightly and avdol just laughs but hugs him back imfmfjfj help. help. help. help. help. POLNAREFF LITERALLY ASKS HIM OUT ON A DATE THIS IS FUCKIN!!! CANON!!! i cant do this stupid fuckign idiots i love them

JOSUYASU!!!!!! TWO GUYS BEIGN DUDES WHAT MORE COULD YOU WANT??? like listen we have such a SLEW of wholesome moments between these two the opening to the tonio episode is literally just them going on a date OKUYASU WAS GONNA FEED JOSUKE AND JOSUKE DIDNT EVEN FUCKING QUESTION IT OKAY THAT’S KINDA GAY THAT HAS ROMANTIC FUCKING UNDERTONES!! and them fighting against shigechi idk man i just love their dynamic it’s such a pleasant bro relationship and i love them. but even beyond the wholesome moments when okuyasu fucking dies josuke loses his SHIT!!! DO YOU HEAR ME HE GOES FUCKIGN INSANE!!!!! HE’S SCREAMING AND CRYING AND BEGGING OKUYASU TO WAKE UP AT THE EXPENSE OF HIS LIFE FUCKIGN HAYATO HAD TO SHRIEK AT HIM TO MOVE HIS ASS OUT OF THE WAY OF KIRA’S BOMB LIKE!! listen the recklessness and furiousness of josuke’s tactics after okuyasu “”died”” haunts me. he didn't want to live in a world without him and meanwhile okuyaus LITERALLY TRIUMPHS OVER DEATH BECAUSE HE DOESNT WANT TO LEAVE JOSUKE’S SIDE HELP ME GIRL FJKF;NDJN FUCK. fuck. so yeah i lvoe them

fugionara... any combination of this ship makes me go nuts okay okay. the dynamics in the bucci gang will forever leave me in tatters but THE ONES BETWEEN THESE THREE IN PARTICULAR. FUCK ME UP. it’s the healing it’s the animosity it’s the regret it’s the trying to figure out your own mentally ill self while also the world ur in with these ppl u love so much and I'm going crazy okay okay okay. idk how to quite put my feelings for them in worlds i just have a lot of them and they are fuckin. overhwelming. just narancia for example meant EVERYTHING to fugo as evidence by purple haze feedback (literally every other paragraph is a flashback) and the only time giorno cries in the anime is when narancia dies. meanwhile fugo saved narancia’s life and giorno knew when to take narancia seriously as opposed to a joke. and then THE WHOLE DISCUSSION ABOUT GRIEF FUGO AND GIORNO HAVE IN PURPLE HAZE FEEDBACK? listen something about these three make me go insane and feral

foolymes like okay. okay. I'm shaking like a dog trying not to go overboard on this justification just listen to me. hermes and jolyne first find someone to trust in prison in each other. jolyne cares abt her enough that she first learns how to use stone free’s string-on-a-telephone ability bc she wanted to watch over hermes. hermes loves nd respects jolyne that after she wakes up from getting a stand shes like “hm. wonder where jolyne is” and goes to find her before all that bullshit happened just hey okay LISTEN TO ME!! and then they get foo they save her it’s just like fucking kakyoin they give her another chance and they show her what relationships are supposed to be like (fulfilling) they enjoy her company and make her laugh and she makes them laugh in return ohmy god EVERYTHING FOO FIGHTERS DID WAS FOR JOLYNE AND HERMES DO YOU UNDERSTAND ME!!! the marilyn mansion debt collector arc. the kiss of love and revenge arc. foo fighter’s death. I'm going to eat rocks in an attempt to stop feeling oh my god JOLYNE DIDNT EVEN BELEIVE FOO FIGHTERS WAS DYING AND THEN SHE GOT HYSTERICAL LIKE “BUT WE CAN JUST REMAKE YOU RIGHT WE HAVE YOUR STAND DISC??” SHE DOESNT WANT HER TO GOOO HELP ME HELP ME. I'm in tatters these three girls loved each other so fucking much they just wanted each other safe and they DESERVED to be safe and happy together but araki is fucking evil

jotaweather I KNOW THIS IS A CRACK SHIP I KNOW I KNOW I KNOW DONT FUCKIGN LOOK AT ME JUST HEAR ME OUT. jotaro and weather r both of similar demeanor that is quiet soft-speaking intimidating strong big aura of sadness coming from them. both have powerful stands and both had real fucked up luck in the love department. i also hc both to be autistic so that’d be another similarity. i jus think them settling down together after everything went down in a stone ocean au would be very soft and sweet yknow? they wouldn't even necessarily start it off in a romantic sense but they just take the time to try and heal with each other and eventually it just kinda veers that way. yeah

gyjo for OBVIOUS reasons like are you serious? gyro changed johnny’s fucking lfie from the SECOND they first interact johnny begins to push himself and tries to reach further/go further. and in turn johnny shows gyro you cant always be a wet blanket you need to take a stand this both helps his resolve to save the kid AND helps him to take the measures necessary to get to his goal. like gyro would not have been able to find johnny in the “who shot johnny joestar?” arc if he hadn't gone through, say, the ring roadagain arc with johnny first. listen man their relationship is literally the catalyst for this whole part it’s the driving force i just. they love each other they love each other thank you goodnight I'm emo

yasugap is just so so so so sweet it makes me so happy,,like okay josuk8 literally has a daydream where all that happens is he gives yasuho some candy and she eats it and is like “aw josuke this is so good thanks!” and she smiles at him and that’s IT THAT’S THE DAYDREAM 😭 listen they just love each other so much and i am emo. they literally SAVED EACH OTHER OKAY LIKE yasuho pulls him from the dirt and like she mentioned during the flashback chapter with the hairpin and her dad, it was also the other way around....saving josuke also saved herself and just LISTEN TO ME. THEY LOVE EACH OTHER. it’s a very sweet and healthy relationship and i hope to god araki makes it canon please sir ill bite you

anyway yeah these are the main main ones ? that i ship ship. like you'll get me excited if u mention them. anyway this post has gone on long enough so I'm gonna end it here by saying i really do have a thing where the relationship focuses on healing/helping one or both parties to save/improve themselves

[unproduciblesmackdown]

3 am’s a crazy time for it but it occurs to me i may as well give a heads up that i am like, for real at the present assuming that i’m gonna like, sometime in the very near future here be going offline again, in that sort of my ~plan~ (my one-step plan) is seeing if i can get myself on a bus (hopefully) and see if that can get me to the west coast. and from there i’ll just be like, well here i am in a place i’ve never been before, being unhoused for the second time but this time not living in my car, which is a bit different than living right out in the open, which i’ve never done. this, for example, is why i was looking up how to do makeshift stp devices. way easier to be able to pee wherever you are than have to find a place you can drop your whole pants, or an actual bathroom. apparently cutting the end off one of those plastic liquid medicine measuring things with the sorta spoon at its mouth works. anyways

i suppose it hasn’t necessarily showed but for a few weeks now i’ve def been feeling The Impending Pressure and it was getting down to the wire there not knowing if the Last Day Online would spring itself on me suddenly. but i can at least say i think i’ll have a days warning now and be able to say something with at least a matter of hours forewarning and not like, a matter of minutes. its been sorta wild though like, sorta assuming its like a Two Days Remain situation and in the midst of the unpredictability of depression, trying to just enjoy things as they’re happening, the simple stuff like chatting with people and being able to put my bullshit thoughts online...cranking out a fic chapter because it’s at least a better place to leave it hanging than it wouldve been otherwise.....just consuming this content that’s enjoyable and chill af.......i tell ya what—both in terms of being Fun and Anxiety-Reducing and Good Distractions and also, a great opportunity just to be talking to people on the daily which has been and continues to be absolutely fantastic—having been On that deh/etc will roland train for the past couple months has been a total gift. it was some great luck stumbling into that, seriously

anyways it’s weird! it’s weird thinking just like, i’ll suddenly do this thing and be on the other coast and just step out and be somewhere i don’t know and with no particular destination and maybe the lgbt center i looked up will at least tell me whats the best area to be in, sometimes they’re in the know abt that re: where’s a better spot to be homeless in than others. and from there, y’know, all i’ve been doing for years and all i can continue to do is absolutely wing it. and it’s funny that this all seems slightly less intimidating to me than it wouldve like, a year or two ago (even tho two yrs ago i was technically homeless lol but living in my car so like i said its different from living Right on the street) but honestly, obviously, it’s still very intimidating because how could it not be. i’m maybe not AS anxious but i’m still anxious and even though i know i could do it, i’d be stressed tf out and anxious as hell and shit while i was doing it. i mean, a crosscountry bus ride alone—i’ve never done that!! what if i mess up switching over to a different connecting ride between stations. bus and train bathrooms unnerve me, god forbid i have to get past someone to get to the aisle to GO to the bathroom. and, yknow, just a really long bus ride—how do you manage to sleep, how do i manage not to fall asleep at the wrong time cuz i doubt there’s an attendant telling you to get off at the right stop. though god knows it’s somewhat arbitrary where i’m deciding to go, i have no especial connection in one particular place over another, i think i have an uncle and cousin in CA but i don’t have the first idea where and i don’t know them at all

ugh. like there’s no actual way to feel good about it but if i’m gonna go somewhere it might as well be in a completely different place and i could try the west coast and i’m not one for making careful plans or thinking that making careful plans about your life works unless you’ve already got a lot of control about your situation, which i don’t. and it’s always been p inevitable that i wind up “properly” homeless, and it happens, and i don’t pretend it doesn’t scare me, but what are you gonna do? c’est ca que c’est / la vie. this way there’s a chance that A Big Change might lead the way for something better, and like hey if i die or some shit i die, which has always been a possibility anyways for the past like 6-7 years especially, what with how shitty i’ve felt lol. but i have no attachment where i’m at now and just. it’s hard to explain i guess if you’re not in the kind of place where i’m at but there’s not a lot of choices in the first place so, if i can choose the location, if it can be somewhere new where i MIGHT like to be for once, that’s better than not. and somehow so far i’ve managed to go with the flow surrounding big changes and sometimes wild situations, even if i’ve felt like crap and been super worried sometimes too. i don’t know for how many years now i’ve been Not assuming i’d be alive by the next year, but here i am having gotten this far, at least. it’s fairly impressive even if i don’t have any amazing achievements. believe it or not i’m pretty satisfied with my Achievements as just like, dumbass blog posts and fic/art and occasionally contributing something someone enjoys and getting to talk to people sometimes. it’s how i’ve been able to enjoy myself in the midst of some really awful times for the past like 6 yrs and i’ve appreciated it every day i’ve gotten to surf the net

like i guess it’s like haha, nerd, that half of what i’m worried about is being offline. but it’s a big deal being able to connect w the world beyond your immediate reach and distract yourself and say things and maybe even Enjoy yourself and also actually get to talk to people. but hey sometimes even people who live on the street manage to snag wifi connections somehow. i’d have to ask them how, lol. but, yknow, like i said, for a couple weeks especially it’s been like , Not Assuming I’ll NOT Lose Internet Connection and thus really trying to bear down on appreciating it. not like being offline for 5 months or so didn’t also make me appreciate it extra already. i was gonna say i survived it but i did get wildly depressed throughout like, august? september? probably both lol. anyways. what i’m trying to say i guess is that i’m not actually assuming i’ll be okay, but that only means so much because like, not to sound dramatic but i’ve pretty much never been okay on account of ive been just a half step away from living on the streets ever since leaving my parents house where i’d previously lived my whole life, which was an abusive situation. and also the depression and the years of really wanting to die which, at least 2018 didn’t have TOO much of that, in terms of feeling like it might be impending. now i can’t really be bothered, i’m just floating along and if i die i die, right. what i’m trying to say is, there’s not really any Good Proper option to choose where i’m definitely okay, so it’s basically about choosing between bad options, and with this choice i might at least like the location a little better, change of scenery, not as cold as here, i dunno. there’s not a way to just choose my way into being okay. it’s all a roll of the dice anyhow

also it’s weird but one thing about being on my own is it takes the pressure off me in certain ways and it’s a bit easier for me to Do things. if there’s anyone else to answer to in any way, i tend to just not ever decide anything and definitely don’t pursue anything. i’m one of those ppl who either has to live alone or with ppl they’re really really really comfortable with, and since i don’t have the latter around and nobody especially me can afford the former, it’s like, well, how is not everybody homeless anyway, right? and people do it. because yknow, you have to do it, it’s suddenly just your situation and somehow people get through every day. idk. learn as you go. what can ya do. it’s choosing between various bad options, i could also just wander into the mountains and die, but i’d rather not, and offing myself is Way a hassle, and also would be difficult, same as dying of exposure/dehydration in this middle of nowhere patch of mtns. i might as well try my luck at being in a place where you COULD maybe survive or something, and where i could at least feel like, if i do manage to have any good things happen, i would even possibly want to be in that area and be more comfortable living there. i have no roots anywhere and only have a No Zone (near my parents house) and so its sorta like, pick a random place to be!! lol. ahhhh

what can i say. it also sucks having to think “boy, in addition to not dying, hope i don’t get physically/sexually assaulted—also, how do people get water??” but......such is the way that it is. i don’t know. i don’t think anybody looks at impending homelessness and goes “i’m okay about this and not at all afraid.” and it’s strange to talk about how this is sort of ~by choice~ but it’s not exactly, in that i didn’t choose to only have abusive family and how even though i was working while living in my car it would never have been enough for rent probably even if i had someone to split it with and i also didn’t choose to not be rich in the first place and *the economy...... .png*

sigh. i dunno, it’s hard because i can’t talk about it a right way or long enough and get to a point i don’t feel intimidated or upset that once i Go Offline i’ll for real just be on my own unless and until i manage to get online for a moment again, in which case i’ll still be on my own, but i’ll feel a bit less alone, ha ha

anyways. speaking of trying to appreciate the simple pleasures of talking about whatever weird shit i wanna talk about and pushing myself to draw/write as it feels like it gets even more down to the wire—time to do that! 4 am and time to draw this weird meme & hopefully crank out the rest of this oneshot & maybe even draw again, and maybe again—it’s cool cuz i slept weird the other night and then got again weirdly tired in the afternoon and took a long depression nap w sorta fun, sorta bizarre dreams. augh. so at least i figure i’m just cruisin now, Not Sleeping-wise

i might have to ask a favor eventually in that there’s something really super simple i ought to look up, but i’d have a ton of trouble making myself do so because of anxiety, yknow how it is. but i’ll ask that if and when i ask it

[greystoner]

Do u have a post somewhere abt your ocs? Who are they what do they do!

HOO BOY sorry this took me so long to get to i havent had a lot of spoons

my ocs are all a part of my original story which i still… need to title lmao. or at least, my main 3 ocs are! valére, cosette, and theodore. i have a 4th in the making named apollo but i don’t have a lot down for him yet. and a 5th one will be revealed in the future

i can try to give a description of their original canon (it’s basically like a supernatural/horror/comedy) and then talk about each of Them specifically. i actually have a pinterest board i started making for the story the other night. and the 3 of them have their own individual boards too.

first thing’s first: the setting of the story is primarily in france.

basically in the world there’s a handful of individuals who are very, very sensitive to the supernatural. you can think something like mediums/psychics, but their sensitivity is far beyond those. it starts when they’re a child, seeing supernatural things such as ghosts/spirits etc on a regular basis. each person has different reactions to it of course, but many get so used to it that they don’t realize how Not Normal it really is.

there’s also these supernatural beings i’ve been calling ‘messengers’ for now until i come up with something better. they’re neither good nor evil, necessarily, but they’re generally tasked with fighting off monsters and at times, keeping a close eye on that handful of humans because, obviously, these humans would attract anything supernatural like a moth to a flame. it can put them in a lot of danger. but their main job is to fight off malevolent creatures from the world. the messengers tend to travel between the mortal world and others frequently, and often take the shape of animals or even people. with animals, most try to pick an animal that would easily blend in. so basically birds, cats, dogs, etc. some have one animal they stick with, others change depending on where they’re going.

a lot of the monsters can’t be seen by normal humans, but normal humans can still certainly be affected by them. the monsters that these messengers have to fight off range from imps to goblins right up to thinks that border on eldritch abominations. think a lot like, monsters you’d see in bloodborne or dark souls or w/e.

also messengers can be considered “symbiotic” while demons are “parasitic”. but that’s a whole other worldbuilding post for another time.

BUT ANYWAY ONTO THE CHARACTERS THEMSELVES please be prepared for a shitton of Words and rambling

ok starting with valére. here’s his pinterest board

and here’s a drawing of him a friend of mine did a while back

so valére is kinda like the Main Protag of the story. he’s the one that’s most fleshed out currently. he’s a 39 year old dude of french peruvian descent that was born in marseilles, france. his father’s side of the family were peruvian immigrants and have been in france for a few generations. his mother is french/polish, so val is mixed, but takes a lot more after his father’s side.

he’s a 6′5″ brick wall of muscle and appears intimidating at first, the scars don’t help, but he’s a giant teddybear. he’s very friendly, smiles a lot, laughs a lot, but can be a little odd with his behavior and people can think he’s a little weird because of it.

he grew up in marseilles and had a pretty cozy life. his parents weren’t Rich but were definitely upper class, so they never struggled much. the visions of spirits and whatnot were always present thru his childhood and he never thought much of them, they were just a normal occurrence in his mind. so it was easy for him to ignore them and vice versa, and it was hard for anything malevolent to feed off of him.

he did have some trouble making friends growing up though, mostly because a lot of other kids thought he was a weirdo and he sort of was but without meaning to be. just, when you grow up constantly surrounded by spirits and shit, then it’ gonna kinda shape you in a way. but he’s always been open and kind to others, and hates conflict and will do what he can to avoid it or break it up.

and he was the kind of kid that got hurt a LOT cus he had – and still has – the tendency to be rather reckless. his pain tolerance has always been crazy high. like, by the time he was 6 he had already broken an arm and a leg. he broke his leg on the playground but got back up and tried to play again as if nothing happened and his parents were like WHAT the fuck.

but anyway when he was like 9 he was walking back home from school and he found this giantass pure black owl injured in the gutter and he was like ??? because it was the middle of the city, what’s this fuckin owl doing out here, and why is it hurt? basically it’s hurt really really bad and it could very well die but he hauls this giant bleeding bird up in his arms and it doesnt even try to attack him and he carries it back home and spends hours that day taking care of it with the help of his mom and manages to keep it from dying. then the next few days he takes care of it and feeds it and after they finally released it valére swore for years it thanked him and said it would repay him some day

after that the spooky shit kinda got more intense but he never really thought much of it and just carried on and it seemed like he was the only one that could see any of it anyway. but otherwise things were relatively calm for a while

when he was 20 he was visiting some cousins out in paris. he was leaving a bar at like 3am and he was followed out by some guys. and at this point valére is already a huge dude so basically it takes 4 of these guys to properly get him down and then another slit his mouth which left him with nasty scars. there wasn’t much of a reason for it outside they were assholes and also took all of his money he had on him at the time. right after they left tho, even tho he was bleeding everywhere he got up and basically started walking toward the nearest hospital but not even halfway there someone spotted him and stopped him and called an ambulance LOL but even after that whole ordeal it really didnt put a damper on his overall positive attitude

things were quiet again for a bit but he started finding feathers around his apartment every so often and he’s like ???????

when he’s 22 things go to shit fast and he’s involved in a nasty traffic accident where a truck crashed head-on into his car, and it lands him in the hospital with gashes all over his body, spine broken in multiple places and many other broken bones, and his chance of living was very slim. if he did live, he’d be paralyzed and in a wheelchair for the rest of his life. turns out that owl he saved like 13 years before was this sort of like… spiritual/paranormal agent thing carrying out a mission disguised in that form and it got attacked by a malevolent being the day valére found it. and true to its word it repays him by basically saving his life by transferring its power/essence into him. and of course the doctors and his family things its a miracle etc etc ANYWAy

what mr owl failed to mention was that now that valére had these powers he’s pretty much kinda thrown into The Job as a messenger himself and basically has a duty of hunting down and killing the big scary evil monster demon stupid assholes so hes like cool i guess

he’s just all in all a pretty friendly well-meaning guy even if he looks kind of imposing with his scars and being a 6’5” brick wall of muscle (hes got some squish around his belly tho). and he says weird shit still sometimes and he laughs a lot. and it’s rare to catch him in a bad mood and he tends to avoid people if he is in one. he is very emotional tho and cries really easy. but even tho hes super friendly and welcoming he doesnt get close to people due to the danger of his job and he doesnt wanna wrap anyone else up in it, but even when hes asked why he dodges the question. but after now 17 years of doing that kinda work hes kind of really traumatized from everything hes seen (and also the accident and almost Dying in the hospital) but he hides it very well.

he’s the Dad Friend™

his abilities are: he’s capable of sprouting four black owl wings for flight, invisibility (but he can do selective invisibility, meaning he can make a certain person/people able to see him if he wants), he’s got cool swords he can summon at will that has a lot of powers of its own, and he can also do spatial/time manipulation but it takes a pretty big toll on his body so its kind of only for desperate measures. he can manipulate/control fire. also he can teleport i guess. but if he uses too much of his powers at once he can lose control and basically turn into a freaky monster (i keep imagining the glasgow smile scars tearing open and his teeth r sharp and theres like this black sludge coming out of his mouth… woo) and go on a rampage and then later will be back to normal but it has only happened once when he was still getting used to it and he swears Never Again (lol)

he likes bandannas (he has like 58967659 different ones and is always wearing one around his neck) and sweaters (like the bandanas he has like 58967659) and cream puffs (any pastry really but those r his favs) and cats and small dogs and classic literature and sappy romance movies. also hes gay and works at a flower shop during his free time

-

ONTO THE NEXT: cosette! her pinterest board is here

i don’t have a good reference pic of her yet… besides this thing i did a few weeks back

along with a big wip i’ll post eventually.

but yeah so she’s a 19 year old girl of romani descent, but she’s been kind of separated from the culture for a long time, since her parents died when she was young and she was put into foster care before finally being fully adopted by 11.

she’s got a lot of attitude and likes to cause trouble, because her adoptive parents are kind of strict and it caused her to have a very rebellious streak. at one point she uses their money to buy a motorcycle lmao so that’s her main mode of transportation and it’s sick as fuck. the helmet she wears while riding it has lil cat ears on it.

but she is well-meaning despite the rebelliousness and sharp tongue. she likes to crack jokes and tease the people she cares about, but will go to the ends of the earth for them.

she hasn’t had her powers as long as valére has, obviously. val has had his ever since she was still just a baby. she got her powers when she was 17, so she’s still getting used to them. she saved a cat from being attacked by stray dogs and surprise! the cat is just like the owl that val saved once. and one day when cosette gets hit by a car, the messenger offers her some of its life force. and now it sticks around with her as a cat and she calls her gigi even tho that’s not her real name

basically considering how gigi takes the form of a cat, some of cosette’s abilities are based off that, not unlike how since the messenger that val saved and vice versa was an owl so he has the power of flight and whatnot, she’s incredibly resilient, has heightened reflexes, can do Sick Parkour, always lands on her feet, and she has lil fangs that grow when she uses her powers and her eyes do Cat Things too. and her nails can turn into claws lmao. she also has powers similar to val’s like the invisibility, spatial/time manipulation, etc, but considering she’s still kinda new to it all she’s not As Powerful as val can be yet

but she meets val literally just bc they pass each other on the street one day, she senses val is The Same, and follows him back to his place DSBFHDBDFHFGF and decides she’s going to stay there and val is just like ???????? ok cool

she’s a huge lesbian btw

-

theodore is the next oc (pin board here) and the one whose fc is louis garrel. here:

 he’s 34. the youngest of 5 kids. his siblings were extremely mean to him throughout his childhood lmao cus they thought he was a freak. like for the first 5 years of his life he legit never spoke and was petrified by the visions of spirits and stuff he’d see. his parents didn’t know what was going on, they’d take him to a therapist and of course the therapist had no clue

so he grew up as kind of a cold and distant guy. hes very well meaning deep down but he just didnt have a happy childhood. the one relative he has a good, loving relationship with is his father. he excelled in school and was popular at first bc hes Handsome but considering his disposition it was hard to get close to him at all

and the case with him and his messenger is strange because. until he gains his powers he and the messenger had never met before whatsoever. the messenger is named vadim and takes the form of a giant black wolf. im still working out Why vadim even bothered saving him but basically, theo gets shot by his eldest brother and left to die. vadim drags theo off somewhere secluded, saves him, etc.

except vadim isn’t exactly a messenger but also isn’t a demon either. he Used to be a messenger. soemthing happened that made him Not so he kind of toes the line between them. messengers are kinda like angels in a way but on a much lower tier i guess. demons are just… demons

and this is where the symbiotic/parasitic thing comes in

bc messengers are very serious about repaying debts. it’s why val and cosette survived at all, because they had saved the lives of messengers before so said messengers saved them. and, for example, gigi pretty much lives with cosette now and cosette offers her protection and vice versa. it’s mutually beneficialmeanwhile like

if youre possessed by a demon you dont really get much out of it yourself. you’re pretty much just. a host to a parasite

and vadim is like… he isnt possessing theo but hes still feeding off of his energy despite saving him and giving him power. i havent really decided a lot on theo’s power but. he’s really strong. which is one reason vadim bothered saving him. bc he could see the fuckton of untapped potential

and a lot of it is due to his bottled up anger and hurt and whatever

also he and val kiss

-

the 4th i’m working on is named apollo and his pin board is here

he’s Sort Of an antagonist but not exactly im still working on his info but he looks like this

he’s a successful businessman but unlike the other characters he Actually Died before he was saved except. he was brought back by a demon that posed as a messenger. and basically bc it was kinda like a deal with a devil sort of thing. now he has to do whatever it wants and is lowkey possessed but also is kind of getting a kick out of bad shit but also not? he’s full of a ton of Conflict. but also the demons messenger counterpart comes into play at some point to help save apollo it’s good

the demon is a white snake and the messenger is a black one

no step on snek

[starkissr]

would u look at that I just had my first break down in a rly long time

today I honestly thought that things have never been worse for me. but u fucking know what? fuck my anxieties. fuck my fears. fuck every doubt and insecurity that's been replaying in my mind. I literally don't fucking deserve to put myself thru this emotional turmoil anymore than I already have. Friday started stressful. yesterday I relapsed back into my bad bad habit. I didn't even mean to but I couldn't stop it. I knew I was doing it and I couldn't care less and altho I just realized it but the level of dgaf I was abt it and how it got so bad literally so quick scared the fuck out of me. now I see it meant I didn't care abt myself anymore. I did see it was wrong but I rly didn't trust myself to take care of myself so my plan was to tell my most trusted friend n roommate here abt my problem so she could also look out for me and help me a little n yesterday I thought abt it but brushed it off. today I texted her and told her I needed to tell her something when were alone. I was so proud of myself for telling her that bc I was like ok now I can't back out of it and I rly rly have to speak up abt this. I guess I should've emphasized that it was v important to me but anyway she left before we got a chance to talk and that was yet ANOTHER thing that went wrong. I swear I've heard like just numerically more bad news today than I have in my life I think. everytime something else came up n I thought shit can't get fucking worse another thing would pop up n fucking emotionally destroy me all over again. but this one was so shitty bc this girl is MY GIRL n the only one I feel comfortable enough talking abt this and I even told her how I desperately needed a solid cry 2 n she wasn't fucking here for me when I needed her. I'm not mad at her like she's been thru v srs shit as of late too n ik she was stressed and why we weren't able to talk but it still fucking hurt bc all day when the hot tears would flood my eyes I kept trying to tell them and all my shit thoughts to sh go away. I would tell them at the end of the day u will come flooding out and I would stop torturing myself and not hold anything back and just say out loud every fucking last thing that's going wrong rn but then it would be ok bc at least it'd all be out of my head. so like I said I'm not mad at her bc that would just be selfish of me but I'm still hurt and i hate so much that I don't feel comfortable having that conversation w her anymore. I'm scared that no one here knows that I don't feel like I can take care of myself rn. I actually decided right now that it's ok that I don't wanna tell her anymore. I rly can't force myself to make myself feel uncomf and tell her something that deeply personal when I don't have the desire to anymore. but the only reason why I'm ok w that is I just compromised n I'm gonna go to talk to the psychologist at my school tm. even tho I rly can't afford to waste a fucking second of my time this week I literally have to go tomorrow or I'll never go. I've been telling myself for legit 4 years that I would start seeing someone but when it came down to it I would never go bc I would tell myself it's not like I have any like life or death problems anyway n when I would think abt making an appt since it would be scheduled in like 2 weeks I automatically would assume whatever the issue was would go away by then. but I fucking need to do this for myself so even tho I'm not planning on killing myself or anything I honest to fucking god need immediate attn rn and everytime I would consider doing the emergency mtg b4 I would be like oh I'm taking that time away from someone who honestly might wanna kill themself n since of c my problems aren't nearly as valid as that I would just be wasting everyone's time. but I need to be selfish this once. I need help I know I desperately fucking need it but I fucking can't stand myself that even tho ik that I still feel like I'm not worthy of going and getting the help I need. I'm still gonna make myself go but like shit man I should not be thinking that way abt myself. whatever idk I'll try to work on it

anyway I still rly did need to talk to someone even if it wasn't to tell my secret I still needed to vent abt all the other million things that had just gone to shit. I had a weird thing that wasn't a fight but like we never fight so it was just even weirder that happened w my best friend who I never have a problem spilling my heart and my soul to so that also was like ugh but I still woulda been down to call her until I remembered how she just started grad school n has more going on now than ever and that rn wasn't a good time for her. there's this other girl here who just within like the past couple of weeks I've gotten to know better n we just vibe so I thought abt dumping my shit on her but then I felt stupid bc I was literally just w her all day n of c now after she left I feel like bitching abt all my shit but I was like that's not a good enough reason to not talk to her so I decided to reach out

I honestly dk what I would've done if she hadn't been there for me. if ur actually reading this ridiculous thought process no like I said I wasn't gonna kms but that anxiety attack was sooooo bad n I've had my fair fucking share so I don't say that lightly but regardless I'm sosososoosososo grateful to her for being there n hearing out all my irrational concerns and being patient n eventually talking sense into me. I felt so vulnerable at first bc even tho she already knew abt some of what went down I honestly felt ashamed abt these problems I'm facing n it takes me a while to warm up to ppl and be THAT open even if it may not seem like a big deal to some I'm super private w somethings idk but she was so fucking amazing I even did kinda preface or hint or like not in as srs of a way but still did lightly bring up a lil part of my secret. she prob didn't even know it but that was so cool n felt liberating tbh. I'm so happy bc while we were studying earlier today, in a moment when those tears found my eyes again n I was tryna keep my cool n not bawl my eyes out in the library n just take deep breathes I drew this simple as can be flower at the top of my page with a cute smiley right in the flowers center in an effort to make myself feel better n showed it to her n when I was showing it off I decided i would want nothing more than to have this be my next tattoo. she laughed n we just talked n then I was like no but I'm not kidding I rly am getting it. to me it was so real that I was having a day from literal hell but that lil silly flower smiley lit up my insides n made me feel soooooo happy I can't explain n it was just a nice thing to try to redirect my thoughts to bc I already love flowers but idk this drawing is like literally a stroke of genius idc if it sounds crazy n anyway she looks at it longer n told me she honestly rly liked it too n said she would get it tatted n I told her again like I'm so srs this thing is giving me LIFE n she surprised me n said yeah me too n so we decided we would get matching tats n I thought abt all the past friends who I've had this convo w like obv abt diff tattoos but I was just asking myself if I rly would want to share this lil treat w her n I can't explain how but all the other times I've talked abt getting matching tattoos w good friends it just felt like a game and not real but this felt different. I'm so stoked were gonna do this together n the fact that I'll have one of my own doodles on my skin like I just love every bit of it. n I thought abt how it's gonna be so magical even when we graduate how the same smiley flower on me will go and see the world thru her eyes. she's from Dubai so even tho it's sad we can't live in the same city forever idk I genuinely feel like I'll be connected and there w her no matter where we go. it's unbelievable to me just how much of the same person we are n how close we've gotten so fast I'm so blessed to have her in my life

wow what an experience. hopefully tm is better

[depressedpuppet]

-slides into you askbox- Hey friend. Tell me about your...puppet or nightmarionne headcanons......I mean, if you feel like it. Idk I wanna hear abt other people's headcanons cuz they're neat :D

i almost dont have headcanons for my favorite character in the whole franchise...im a fraud...

ok ok so like obviously the puppet aint an animatronic, but also is not a kid spirit, like, theyre a supernatural, totally unrelated force that one way or another got involved in all the fuckery with fazbear and afton and then scott fucked me over with the 3rd game :’U

also, with its role in the pizzeria, i always pictured it was like the kids would give whoever was working at the prize corner their tickets and then the puppet would select their prize accordingly and hand it to them ((how would that work?? i have no idea)) (that would be kinda an attraction on itself, and people would play/hand tickets like crazy just to see it in action)

yknow how in the drawings its shown that cross thingy and the strings attached to the puppet? i like to think that there was kinda like a track system on the ceiling of the pizzeria that would give him the chance to move around the pizzeria, but that was reserved mostly for special occasions, like a kids birthday party, where puppet himself would personally go to the kids table to give them a present :D