#i can't tell you how much im enjoying this thread right now

[xtinyslip]

"… i'm much better now." she met his eyes, wanting him to know the only reason she was right now was because she was here with him. cecilia didn't want to get into the gnarly details as to why she hadn't been well, there was a time and place and right now ; she didn't want to give him reason to look at her differently. it seemed like his mind had already tricked him into having plenty of those as it was. "thank you. it's definitely an improvement but we're taking it slow. not rushing anything. would you believe that for once he's allowing this to happen at my own pace?" she smiled ever so slightly. no, she and her father hadn't confirmed that but to cecilia that's what it felt like he was doing. "i'm blushing. do you even know the last time i blushed? i do not." smiling briefly, figuring that whenever it was ; it would have been with him, before… at his words, she glanced up at him, daring to meet his eyes once again. "i'm rather fond of complicated myself. why settle for anything else? hm?" confirming to him that this was what she wanted too, not that she'd been shy about it but she could have pressed it more. she was also conscious of coming across too heavy, she had no idea how to play this but she didn't want to push him away. that was the opposite of what she wanted. when he asked her if she liked it, she only hesitated because the truth was she hadn't really seen it. as soon as her eyes had seen him, they hadn't left him. they could be anywhere right now. she wanted a moment to glance around, trying to avoid the eyes she could feel were on them. "why are you putting yourself down? this is all yours. it's… it's wonderful. it really is." of course, she liked it. it was him? it was literally him. how couldn't she? "i honestly had no idea this place was yours. it's been recommended so many times but i," was in no state to really be out in public and nor had she wanted to be. "i'm so pleased for you. it's nice to hear one of us is doing so well." and it was, and fuck ; he deserved it. yes? she thought so.

"i don't need fancy. fancy has not been a word to describe my life for some time." why was she acting as though she was going to be spending a lot of time there? well, it's what she wanted but she hadn't meant to voice it out loud like that. "you might be surprised at how much i enjoy your place and… frankly, how it may be similar to mine. the only feature that's fancy about mine is the bath." it was just good to be talking, whether it was about their homes, hell, they could have a night long discussion about the weather… as long as he wanted to talk. as along as she could sit and listen to the sound of his voice. to know he was here. he was really here. "you missed me?" that was such a relief to hear, he had no idea ; same way or not, it just was. "please do not be sorry, that was not your fault. couldn't be helped, i -- i'm fine too." fine was not okay, not even close but she didn't want to make tonight about that. she really didn't. "well, i don't make it too easy for them." was that an actual joke? uh, yes. "i'm telling myself that, trying to open up that part of myself isn't natural for me but it's going alright." nodding, wanting to be honest. the air caught in her throat when he asked her what changed, why they were apart to begin with. she couldn't answer, bringing their joined hands onto her lap, realising sitting like this wasn't close enough. "it no longer matters. we're here now." he didn't need to know, he didn't -- she wasn't here to traumatize him like she'd traumatized herself, and poor cooper. "nerds?" smiling slightly. "when?" already knowing exactly what he was trying to say and trying to hide the fucking hatred she felt for the woman that what? was keeping them to herself? it may not be like that at all but yes, she jumped to the worst possible scenario because with elaine, that was usually the correct option. "does he now? winston will be jealous but yes, i suppose i can spare some cuddles for him. must make a good impression, yes?"

"that sick fucker turned the gas back on and i couldn't s--" her words were cut off by the feeling of his arms wrapping around her, she was glad he stopped her. after all, she knew to be careful with what she said but not when she was in this panicked state. she probably wouldn't remember anything of what she said afterwards. cee pressed her face into his neck, smelling him, feeling his warm, arms wrapping tightly around his back. no, she wasn't letting him go. "that's the problem, you shouldn't, not if it ever comes down to you and me again. i need you to live, fuck the rest. i. need. you." still, she could feel him breathing, hand tucking between them so she could press it against his chest and feel it moving as he breathed in and out. it helped her breath, it did. she wasn't sure anything else could have gotten her to come down from that panicked state. "your really here." her person, her home. that was all the safety she needed. everything else faded away when he kissed her, when she met his kiss and they didn't stop. they could have been anywhere ; the room, the horror of that night, it couldn't reach her now that he was here, now that it felt like he was everywhere. this had always been how they had the most honest conversations with each other. i love you, i do. i had no idea how much, i don't expect you to but if you let me? i will prove it. i'm so sorry, p. it became quite clear that she had no intention of letting him go, not wanting any space between them. her one hand curling into the material of his shirt as the other stayed joined to his. the small space that had almost stopped her breathing, was now a space she welcomed because it was a space she was sharing with him. she hadn't even realised that tears were falling down her cheeks till now but they weren't the ones she was used to. no, they were happy ones. @fcdcdmcmories

"YOU.. WEREN'T WELL AND.. YOU'RE.. BETTER NOW, I TAKE IT?" perhaps it made that much sense that was the one thing that he took away from that, but.. what mattered more than anything? what had mattered more to anything to him in the past? and now? whether or not she was okay. "but if that's the case, then.. i'm really happy for you. that you two are getting along. better, at least. that he's.. APPRECIATING YOU. TREATING YOU AS YOU DESERVE." which was what pederson had never done in the past and so, this was.. new. so many things were but nothing as much as the fact that she wasn't what he remembered at all. DIFFERENT? "you're not making a fool out of yourself. i mean, you.. you're not. you could never. i don't know what to say about.. all of this, but that much i know." he should have told her to leave. he should have told her to leave the second she crossed the threshold, but.. how could he? he was finding that he didn't want that. at all. he wanted her here, he just didn't know HOW to admit that right now. if he COULD. "maybe it's better. maybe everything would be easier if we were just friends, but.. who doesn't like a little complicated every now and then?" saying that this was what he wanted? god, he didn't know. or rather.. he did and he was just too afraid to admit it. too fucking afraid of making the same mistakes all over again. what if he trusted her and this all went sideways? "so you are. do you like it? this place? I KNOW IT'S NOT MUCH, BUT.. well, when i opened it.. i didn't expect for it to blow up as much as it did. people seem to really like it, for some reason. been the talk of the town." scratching the back of his neck, almost as if he was nervous to be asking that. her opinion mattered. it counted and right now, he was only starting to REALISE that. fuck. nodding.

he didn't say anything back - not about that, but. he squeezed her hand back. he'd do it all again too. "SOMETHING LIKE THAT? IT'S PROBABLY NOT WHAT YOU'RE EXPECTING. IT'S NOTHING FANCY AND IT'S PRETTY.. CHILL, BUT.. IT'S.. HOME, MOSTLY. i often sleep elsewhere, but.. it's good to have my own space." suddenly, he was nervous again. what would she think? it wasn't anything fancy like he knew she was used to. lots of leather stuff and his flannels and the pictures of his family and will and his old books and whatnot but.. WHY WAS HE SO NERVOUS ABOUT HER OPINION? it wasn't as if he was planning on inviting her there during any other time, was he? fuck. he really was. "I... MISSED YOU TOO. CLEARLY NOT IN THE SAME WAY, BUT.. I.. I DID. and i'm sorry about scaring you in whatever way, but.. i'm here. i'm okay. i'm.." happy? he had been about to say that but he shut himself up. why? until she had walked in here, he would have told anyone that asked that he was happy. was that not true? who he had missed her in a completely different way - in one that.. the more that he tried to fight it? the more that he tried to forget it and her? it just kept coming back stronger. "good. i'm glad. other people should get to know how remarkable she is, too," glancing over at their hands and then back at her. "we did? find our way back to each other, i mean? what changed? if you're here.. something must have. right?" and he regretted that question as soon as it left his lips, shaking his head. it didn't matter. it shouldn't matter but.. god, it did. it always would, right? "gabi picked it after a movie night. what can i say? we're all a bunch of nerds. me and her and evie. it's fun when they stay here with me," mostly, they stayed with elaine and.. yes, he did get that, but.. he wanted them both here. "then, we'll make it happen. i'm sure he can't wait to meet you. be warned, he likes cuddles." and often enough, he had to hide him when elaine came over. frodo had never liked her, had he? they were going upstairs and that'd be fine, but he was finding that he didn't want the night to end. he didn't want her to leave. this.. him? what he didn't expect was the rest. his heart skipped a beat as he moved forward, placing his hand against her cheek.

"it is. it is. it's just us here, okay? there's no else here. you're not in danger. you're okay. you're safe. YOU'RE HERE WITH ME. COME HERE." thinking that she was probably seeing that room again. he found himself moving forward again, wrapping his arms tightly around her, as he pulled her to his chest, hugging her close. did this scare him, yes? "tough shit, because i give a lot of flying fucks about what happens to you, so.. how about we agree that nothing is gonna happen to either of us? okay? THERE'S NOTHING TO WORRY ABOUT. IT'S SAFE NOW." when their lips met, it was as if he acted on instinct. he tangled his hand on her hair, pulling her to his chest, as he kept her pressed against the wall, wrapping his free arm around her waist, as they kissed. right now? the world didn't exist. what had happened - his lack of trust in her - it didn't matter. it was just them in here and.. god, he had missed this. HER. SO MUCH THAT IT HURT. and he knew, didn't he? he had from the moment he had seen her again. he was still in love with her. wasn't he? he had never stopped. instead of saying it, though? he poured everything into that kiss, not pulling back. it was messy and desperate, but it was.. everything. / @xtinyslip

[ghostgirl101]

I just wanna say that I am SO excited for the part 2 to your Paul Destiny fic. I have so many questions and Im excited to see if they get answered. Like if Paul is pledging his love to the reader then is the romance plot with Chani still relevant? Is the reader still the princess here? Very interesting

Imagine if Paul Atreides claimed you as his destiny: PART Ⅱ of Ⅱ

|| Word Count: 1.7K || Fluff ||

A/N: Honestly, I didn't think this would blow up so much- 1k+ likes??! Thank you all, it's sick 🙃 in answer to your questions, I didn't really specify if the reader (you) are part of a Great House or the Emperor's daughter, or maybe someone else, that's kind of up to your imagination. And yeah, sorry Chani fans, I kind of kicked her to the curb lmao; This is all about you, and so enjoy the second and final part of this destiny trope before I work on some relationship headcanons for Paul and Feyd-Rautha... Requests are open for Dune 2, so don't be shy 📩

You can't escape fate.

It's as real as the Spice that threads through the grains of sand blanketing Arrakis in heavy, warm golden waves. It twists and turns in the air, in the tides of change, something beyond understanding roping together reality and its lives to bond, whether in love or hate.

At least, with the newly ascended young Emperor, you know which side you're on. Since the day of his declaration and claiming of you as his Empress, you've never once left his sight, unknowingly or not. The boy is almost ridiculously close and observant, as if testing the depths of the events unfolding around him, testing to see whether you'll try to run from them, from him. But you can't run from fate, either.

"You aren't resting."

Paul's soft, low voice slices through the silence of the dusk, the only words you hear before you feel his warm, firm arms slipping under your arms and around your middle, pulling you into his front in a smooth, protective motion. His chocolate brown locks tickle your neck and cheek as he gazes up at you from your shoulder; wandering, curious eyes study yours knowingly, his natural hues tainted blue with the Spice.

"What troubles you?"

You hesitate in your response, unsure of the right thing to say. There's no point in lying, not to him, to a boy who could easily use the power of his Voice to make you tell him everything and anything with just a few words. He's done it to the Bene Gesserit, to those who speak out of turn and challenge him cluelessly, but never to you. And something tells you that he never will.

"I'm sorry," is how you answer instead, in a small whisper, trying to read his expression before his reaction.

But all Paul does is give you one of his soft, amused smirks, a brow raising slightly, unconvinced.

"Don't apologise to anyone for anything," he murmurs, his fingers drifting to lock with yours, his hand hot and strong in yours. "We are to be wed, you and I, soon. So what troubles you?"

"It's not you," you tell him as earnestly as you can, his eyes capturing yours and holding them as you blink up at him. "I'm just... nervous."

"Nervous?" Paul repeats gently, his hands squeezing yours for a moment, his face an inch away from yours. "What have you to be nervous about?" He grins slightly, not attempting to hide his teasing amusement. "A wedding?"

You can't help but smile at his tone, savouring the unguarded moments of the new, young Emperor, his boyish traits lingering beneath the newfound power and promises passed down to him.

You were nervous, because you weren't so familiar with destiny and its quirks, and yet, Paul Atreides seemed to be its master. Nervous, because although there was a strange pull between you and him, a deeper part of you somehow knowing him, at an instinctive ease with him, you had never met him before these past few days, and now, you were going to be joined together for time indefinite by marriage. Nervous, because he didn't just want you to rule with him, but alongside him, as a partner, a second part of him. His second half who's with him in soul, not just spirit, physically, not just mentally. And he's relishing in it.

"I've never had one before," you shake your head with a light smile, "I don't know what to expect. Or what's expected of me."

Paul hums to himself at your reply, pausing for a while as he thinks over his words.

"It isn't just a wedding," he tells you quietly, "it's so much more. This... this a beginning. A new dawn."

"Beginning?" You echo in bemusement, looking up at him in wonder. "Of what?"

"Of a new era," Paul says thoughtfully, his hands moving from yours to run over and down your sides, tracing over your figure absentmindedly, a gesture that makes you hold your breath for a beat as you watch him, "the first of many. You are more than a mere future. You're the future. My future. And the future of my people."

The sincerity and conviction in his voice makes you stare back at him in slight awe, taken by his certainty of what he's seen in the deepest stretches of his mind, the flickering images of you, adorned in all your natural beauty and grace that he could find nothing short of perfect. You were a fantasy and a hope materialised. Someone he'd wished and dreamed for so much, that you came true, just as you should have.

"Anything that happens to you," Paul continues, looking you straight in the eye as he speaks, "happens to me. You have always been mine, and I was yours before then. Absolutely and completely."

And his words make a home in your head, everything he says so poetic and beautifully surreal, but so honest and unwaveringly confident. He didn't need to practise what he said before he whispered the sweet words in your ear, in a voice only you could catch, in the long, warm nights on Arrakis. There was no need for practice. He had been made for this, and he wouldn't have it any other way.

You let yourself relax slightly in his grips, giving him an earnest smile. "That sounds nice."

Paul smiles back at you, a bright, sweet smile that makes him seem so soft and normal, almost forgetting for a moment of his utter strength and glory over the planets, his dangerous darkness that he occasionally allowed to rule over his actions at the tensest of times, until those who stood up against him retreated in bewilderment and fascination and fear.

"It does," he agrees, his gaze dropping to look out at the dunes beyond you, "you can't imagine..."

You couldn't. But every part of you wanted to. And those parts won.

"Won't you tell me?"

Paul's attention shifts back to you after you speak, before you can stop yourself.

"Would it be kind to tell you?" He asks aloud, speaking half to himself as his eyes go to search yours again, studying every inch of you, almost unsettlingly intently.

"Do you dream?" Paul questions you softly, and you dither before shaking your head.

"Not like you do," you answer steadily.

"Like I do. Seeing your face amidst the streaks of sunbeams and every kind of ethereal power that could create wonders, planets, worlds. Waking up, and you're not here, though it felt so real," he goes on, his voice laced with longing, as if it pained him to remember the feeling. "Realer than I've ever felt anything before. Every sense in me was awakened, because with destiny, I saw hope. And I did not know that hope could be so.... beautifully... angelic."

Paul draws closer and closer with each word, pulled by invisible strings to rest his forehead against yours, closing his eyes for a long moment to breathe, breathe you in. The sight of it is almost dizzyingly hypnotic, staring at the little scattered freckles over his fair, lightly tanned skin, cheeks flushed golden. He moves his face to rub his cheek against yours, seeking out affection in an irresistible rare, vulnerable move. Your hand reaches up to brush your fingers against it, and he takes it in his immediately, pressing his lips against your fingertips as he speaks.

"I need you," Paul insists, his voice firm and pressing again as he stares at you with a spark of desperation. "I need only you. More than you can comprehend. By my side, always, where you belong."

"I'm right here," you reply a little giddily, looking away from his eyes slightly bashfully from the intensity and unbridled longing of his gaze. "I suppose I'm just not used to this."

"To what?" Paul questions, his fingers tilting your chin up softly to force your eyes back up to his, his face a little closer than before. "To being an Empress?"

Before you can respond, he's pushed himself closer over you, his warm, damp lips sliding and pressing against yours and parting to encourage you to deepen his affections. It sends hot shockwaves rushing straight through your blood, as Paul crouches over you, all patience and purpose forgotten in the moment where it's just the two of you in the calm, lingering desert night.

You fit together perfectly, too perfectly for his words to be untrue, and his head tilts keenly where your fingers skim his neck, his lips parting from yours as they tangle in his hair with a short gasp. He loses none of his confidence and persistence, his azure blue eyes a shade darker as he watches you with an open trace of adoration.

"A queen?"

"Paul," you start shakily, as he smirks at you fondly, his head ducking to trace his tongue briefly up the skin of your neck, with a faint chuckle.

"To being desired?"

You glare at him weakly, hanging onto his hands tight to find some sense of grounding. "You're just playing with me."

"I intend to do so much more than that," Paul grins at you, kissing your cheek before burying his face against your shoulder. "And so should you. Test the depths of our connection. Push it to its limits. Push me. Please."

You find yourself speechless again at his way with words, simple and truthful, but full of passion and unthought romance, a sensation he's been craving since the first shadows of your being in his hazy dreams and visions.

"Give into your destiny, sweet girl," he croons to you in a whisper, his lips brushing against yours and pressing down against your skin needily, hungrily. It takes almost inhumane strength not to crumble and shiver under his touch and desire radiating off him and his dark glare, the wanting over years of dreams and prophecies building up to its peak. "Give into me."

"I think I will," you whisper back in awe and giddiness, your arms having to hold tightly around his neck to stay upright. "I think I want to."

"That's good," he praises you with a soft smile, as his voice lowers. "And besides," Paul mutters in your ear, nuzzling against your cheek breathlessly, with that subtle, teasing look in his eyes, "I plan on taking you as mine well before the wedding."

══════════════⊹⊱≼ fin ≽⊰⊹══════════════

Taglist (lmk if you want to be added to this for my future Dune fanfics): @minaxcarter @milaeth @ennycutie @weird0o0 @aoi-targaryen @jindongdongie

[sentoooo]

"ᴄᴀɴ ɪ ɢᴇᴛ ʏᴏᴜ ᴏᴜᴛ ᴏꜰ ᴛʜᴏꜱᴇ ᴄʟᴏᴛʜᴇꜱ?" ⨟ ᴋᴇɴꜱʜɪ x ꜰᴛᴍ ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ ⨟ 18+

pretty self indulgent, maybe for comfort? my sex drive is going HAYWIRE, and thats also kind of why im not writing much nsfw requests rn. cause like one minute i am just super in the mood for angst, or fluff, and then the next im horny. mainly always super in the mood for fluff, but. uhm. kenshi DOES things to my mind...

cw: NSFW, ftm reader, afab, he/him pronouns, pre top surgery, vaginal sex, protected sex babyyyyy, slight cokcwarming, porn with little plot, slight body worship, i swear i don't have a favorite, proofread word count: 3,292. been in my drafts for a bit. finished this at 3:30 am. i am going to sleep for 12 hours now. MINORS DNI

The night was quiet, a soft, dull feeling fell Kenshi as he woke up, propping his upper body up with his elbows. He took a minute to listen to the stillness of the world, something that never changed despite the ever-burning chaos woven within the threads of time. He hummed to himself, tilting his head slightly as if he expected something to reach out to him within the silence. Only for a moment did his expectations lie, until he heard you stir next to him. Your back was turned, he could tell by how far your slow breathing seemed.

"I can't sleep," Kenshi started, mindlessly reaching for you. His hand landed on your forearm, his thumb simply trailing along your skin. He heard you turn your head to look at him, so he continued. "What has you up...?"

You didn't respond for a moment, letting his question hang in the air for a couple of seconds. "Nothing special," You smile softly at your boyfriend, your voice still addled with sleep.

Kenshi turns his head towards you, raising an eyebrow. He traced his hand down to your wrist. "Keep me company?" He asked in a hushed voice, acting as if he was going to pull you back into bed with him. Without a word, you accepted his invitation, and took your place next to him in the bed once again. With this, he found your hand and interlocked his fingers with yours, simply looking in your direction. Perhaps it was a useless gesture, but he wanted you to know he at least acknowledged your presence, even with his sight gone.

The moment was tender, Kenshi leaned onto his side, and placed his left hand on your waist. He pulled you slightly closer, tracing the back of your hand with his thumb. Resting your head on his shoulder, you revel in his warmth and body. Your right hand makes its way up to his chest, lazily following the slightly worn ink of his tattoos. Kenshi kissed the crown of your head, humming softly.

Moments like these were the reason Kenshi fell in love with you so hard, getting to hold you close in those sleepless nights, bathe in your presence. Your touch, so warm and inviting, tender and loving. To know you loved him, even on starless nights, even with all his sins carved into his arms. He did not need repentance, for you were the holiest, warmest light he had encountered. How lucky, he thought, that you were here in his arms. Willingly. Spending each night and day with him. He could not imagine a better life.

Kenshi's left hand found the small of your back, pulling you near on top of his body in search to quell his yearning. His right hand freed itself from your hand, only to rest on the nape of your neck. You could feel his heartbeat, only slightly irregular. His body temperature rose, his breathing slightly stuttering. How he enjoyed this, having you in such close proximity to him. If he could keep you like this forever, he would. Slowly, his hand traced down from your neck to your spine, relishing the little noises you made. His touch was electrifying, no matter how many times you fell into his arms. He knew just the right ways to tease you, to bring you closer, to let you know of his want.

You raised your head, looking for some sort of sign other than content from your boyfriend. A small smirk, just barley noticeable. His face ever so flush. You smile a bit to yourself, pushing yourself from Kenshi's chest. Before he can protest, you throw your left leg over his waist, straddling him. His hands fall to your waist, his head turning up to you. A meager gesture once more, yet he wanted to acknowledge what you were doing. Playing into your teasing.

"Well...?" Kenshi prompted. He was waiting for you, his patience was wearing thin. To pull away from him, there must have been a reason, right? How he wanted you close again, his fingers softly digging into your waist.

You gave him what he wanted, leaning down and placing a soft kiss on his lips. It was quick, yet somehow... scandalous. You felt Kenshi beneath you relax, only for a second. When you pulled away, he near pouted. How curious, to see a man of his standing suddenly melting into your hands. To reward him for this vulnerability, you leaned back down. Your lips pressed against his, Kenshi melted into the kiss rather quickly. He was... desperate. He almost pushed himself up into the kiss. How warm it was, how could you tease him like this? When you pulled away once more, he whimpered.

"Don't leave me like this," Kenshi placed his right hand on the small of your back, pushing you back into him. "Please." He didn't beg, but his voice quivered. It was a sensual moment, something he had always sought out. This feeling was something he wished he could hold, trap you in his arms forever. When your lips brushed against his, he pushed himself back into you. Don't keep yourself away from him, don't even try. His hand then snaked up your spine, to the nape of your neck. He held you there, his kiss becoming more hungry. Yet, as lustful as he was, it was... delicate. Passionate. Every drop of love for you resonated within the kiss. It made your head spin. Only then did he pull away, at the last second, where you thought you would've lost your breath.

Within Kenshi's touch burned something new, his thumb caressed your neck. Before you could understand just what he was feeling, he closed the distance between you two once more. This time, Kenshi moaned into the kiss, digging his nails into your waist ever so slightly. You lost yourself, this time. Even when Kenshi pulled away, the warmth of him trailing from your lower lip, to your chin, to your neck... ah, how invigorating this felt. He let his appetite be known, how his lips lingered over your soft skin. And not before long, he bit down on your shoulder gently.

"Mh," You let your appreciation slip from your lips, raising your head just slightly so he could get a better angle. At that, you felt a heat rise against your inner thigh, and below you, Kenshi cleared his throat. He was pulling your attention to his lips, you can wait, he knows you can. His teeth trace along your neck, moving back up towards your chin. His breath hot against your sensitive skin, teasing you.

"Be still, my Dear," Kenshi smiles against your skin, placing a soft, warm kiss on your jaw. "You can feel me, yes...?" His voice is taunting, almost begging you to tell him the truth. Yet, he does not wait for your answer. "Just what you do to me, mh, I want... I want to take care of you," A declaration of love, yet the implication was lewd. Your hands find his cheeks, warm, his stubble, slightly scratchy. Now, he pushes his upper body up, placing his hands once more on your waist. In doing so, the full length of his need brushed up against the cloth of your boxers. Kenshi sighed, the gentle friction providing slight relief. Yet, he was not done. He placed his forehead against yours, his nose brushing against yours. How scandalous his touch might be, yet he loved you with all the passion, the longing, the devotion in the world.

Kenshi does not kiss you, as close as you are to him. He does not move from this position. His thumbs toy and tease with the band of your boxers, his breath shakes, but he does not advance. He revels in your breathing, the ever-so quiet beating of your heart, picking up its pace. Above all, he can feel your yearning. He can feel you. An old, oversized band t-shirt drapes over your torso, the only thing keeping him away from your chest. And your boxers, he can feel you behind them, as well. Such thin cloth, but he feels your warmth, how slowly you seep out in search of him. In preparation. Kenshi's devilish smirk and sensual touch is near enough to arouse you, if you were not already.

Kenshi's gruff voice once again breaks the silence, his fingers caressing your sides. "May I?" He asks, fidgeting with your shirt. You nod, but this is not enough for Kenshi. "Please?"

"Yes," You consent, giving Kenshi what he wanted. He was quick, his hands tracing from your stomach, to your ribs, and resting just below your breasts. He paused, letting out a soft sigh. As if he was just as hesitant as you.

Another dull, quiet hum enters the atmosphere. Comforting. Kenshi places another quick peck on your lips, before continuing. His hands cup your tits, gently. Almost as if you were made of porcelain. "My Boy," He whispers against your lips, his fingers drawing half circles around your nipples. His touch was intoxicating, you arch your back ever so slightly, your breasts pressing gently against his chest. He smiles at this, your eagerness bringing a rising heat through his throat. "Can I get you out of these clothes?"

Oh, how you loved how Kenshi asked. For every little thing. Your voice was his driving force. Yet, before he continued, he leaned back, his hands leaving your body. A bitter feeling threw itself over your body, the lack of his touch leaving you empty. Kenshi had laid back down, reaching towards the bedside stand. He struggled a little, opening the top drawer with his pinky and rifling through an assortment of junk. After a couple seconds, he finally found what he was looking for. A small box of trojans, two condoms left. He separates the condoms packaging from one another, holding the packet with his teeth.

Kenshi wastes no time to return to your body, pressing himself even closer this time. Through your shirt, your breasts squish against him. He chuckles softly, through his teeth. Before you complain, his hands reach underneath your shirt, pulling it up and over your head quickly. You shivered slightly, the cool air hitting your naked torso. But Kenshi kept you close, his hands reaching past the band of your boxers. Only for a second did he pause, bucking his hips and rubbing his clothed erection against you. You moaned in response, your body somehow overly sensitive. At this, Kenshi finally freed you of your boxers, letting you leave his body only for a minute to throw them on the floor.

"Hm," Kenshi hummed, as you returned to straddling him. His right hand returned to your breast, gently squeezing and massaging the soft mound of flesh. His left hand grabbed your wrist, guiding your hand to the hem of his boxers. He leans in towards your ear, his teeth lingering over the shell of your ear. "Whenever you're ready." Kenshi instructed, his thumb running over your knuckles, before his hand found it's place on your thigh.

You look down at Kenshi, grinding slightly against his clothed cock. The tip pressed against your clit, sending a wave of pleasure through your body. You were teasing him. He knew. He frowned slightly, nibbling gently at your ear. You sighed, the pleasant stimulation of his cock against your pussy and the warmth of his breath against your ear left your spine tingling. You couldn't wait any longer, hooking your thumbs into the band of his boxers, pulling them down all too eagerly. You barley allow him time to readjust and kick his boxers off.

Yet, before he readies you, he tears open the condom packet, quickly rolling it over his cock. Almost too quickly, he could not hide his excitement. You groan a little, impatient and ready. "Kenshi," You whisper, your voice quivering. "I need you." A tantalizingly pure statement.

"Patience," Kenshi warned, digging his fingers into your thigh. His right hand left your chest, holding you by your waist once more. He adjusted your position, spreading his legs a little underneath you. Finally, his cock pressed against your opening, twitching in response to your warmth and wetness. Kenshi groaned, rolling his head back slightly. He could barely hold back.

Kenshi lowered his head, resting it against your collarbone, just above your tits. He holds you by your hips now, his hands firm. He lifts you slightly, positioning you just above his dick. You let out a soft groan at the touch, how full his tip felt against your beckoning pussy. He relishes in this reaction, finally settling you down on his cock slowly. Deeper it reaches through your folds, every inch leaving both you and Kenshi to moan in tandem. Until finally, he fills you up completely. Kenshi throws his head back once again, letting out a lengthy breath.

Blessed relief. Your walls squeezed against Kenshi- perhaps it was the girth, or maybe just how good he made you feel. Your yearning spilling around his cock, trailing down to his thighs. He held you firmly like this, his right hand supporting you by your back. You shudder against his touch, every movement sending a wave of pleasure up your spine. You moan simply at how full he made you feel, feeling every vein, his warmth, his want.

Finally, Kenshi helps you get started. He pulls back slightly, and you begin to grind against him. Lifting yourself up, down, up, down, a sweet trail of your juices connecting to the base of his cock. Each movement earned a moan from your lips, each sound prettier than the last. Kenshi's lips found your neck once more, leaving a soft trail of kisses from your jaw to your shoulder. Retracing this trail two times over. His left hand pressed firmly into your waist, guiding your movements.

"Oh, My Heart..." Kenshi groaned, his hoarse voice against your neck. He bites at your neck now, sucking gently. Leaving the first mark of many tonight. He keeps your pace steady, controlled. Your hands find the back of his head, tangling your fingers within his soft hair. Kenshi rewards you for this, letting out another lengthy moan. He bucks his hips up into you, reveling in your surprise. You lean your body against his, hiding your head in the crook of his neck. To feel the vibrations of your moans, your curses, every little thing coming from your lips, it is heaven. It feels as if it stimulates him more than your pussy.

Kenshi continues this steady pace, almost tormenting you as you try and beg for more. "Please..." You moan against his neck, breathy and soft. But he denies you this, bringing his left hand closer to your core, closer, closer... but not close enough. You whine, tugging gently at Kenshi's hair, pulling his head away from your neck. "Please!" You cry out, pressing yourself further into him every time you met the base of his cock. He smirks, and lets out a gruff chuckle. Something devilish lingers within, remnants of sin rising within his touch.

"If you are so sure..." You can hear the mischief in Kenshi's voice, and not a moment after, you feel his warm thumb press gently against your clit. A moan escapes your lips before you feel the shock of pleasure, warm, inviting, intoxicating, run through your body. He rubs slow circles against your clit, now using his right hand to control your pace. "Oh...?" Kenshi taunts, listening to you whimper and moan and slur your words, the extra sensitive nerves seems to have gotten you riled up. Just the way he wanted.

When you pulled away from him, throwing your head back and arching your back once more, Kenshi took advantage of this. He placed a kiss on your sternum, finally picking up the pace. He couldn't deny you this pleasure, he could not be so unfair with the light of his life. You felt him smile against your sensitive skin, lewd slapping and squelching started to echo within the room. With each kiss he placed, he pressed you down into him. From your chest, up to your collar bone,- where he left another mark- to your neck, leaving a hot trail up to your chin, and finally, your bottom lip.

Kenshi moans softly into your mouth, taking advantage of your vulnerable state. He pulls you in slightly closer, kissing you deeply. He rewards you once more, biting your lip ever so slightly, before his tongue enters your mouth. It's clear, he's providing every kind of stimulation he can to get you going. He wants you to cum. So badly.

Kenshi's thumb continues rubbing your clit, a steady pace as opposed to the rougher, faster pace he's been drilling into you. Every thrust, every circle, it all brings you closer and closer. It breaks you, nearly. Kenshi only pulls away when he begins to lose his breath, simply listening to your increasing moans. Somewhere in between them, he can hear his name, slurred, but still beautiful nonetheless. Without a word, he leans back slightly, angling himself juuuust right... and with another thrust, you scream his name.

"Mhm," Kenshi sounded breathless, each thrust hitting that sweet, sweet spot. Paired with his attention to your clit, you felt that burning pressure build up below your stomach. Your eyes rolled back, your moans devolving into nothing but slurred and inaudible speech, the only coherent thing was Kenshi's name on your lips. "Let me hear you."

You obey, your hands finding his shoulders and digging your nails into them. You only get louder each passing second, the pressure building, sending waves and waves of electricity through your body. Your voice began to grow hoarse, scratchy. Kenshi moved in to attack your neck, now. Yet, you could hear him. His moans became louder, he couldn't hold them in anymore. He wasn't holding back, either. He fucked up into you with such a desire, such primal lust. A yearning that could not be quelled, no matter how disciplined Kenshi may be. He leaves hickies all down your neck, his kisses growing sloppier with his thrusts.

"Ah- fffuhhhhh.. D-arling," Those words were the only signal Kenshi had given you. He never swears, and he never cums first, and yet, you could feel him pushing deep into you. He pressed you down on his cock, letting out a rather loud groan, breathy, low, and full of bliss. He rides out his high, still striving to make sure you climax, as well. Each thrust brings him closer to stimulation, biting his lip, trying to suppress his moans.

"Kenshi!" Your walls tighten around him, as you grind against him, seeking his heat, and your own orgasm. You do not have to work for long, the heat rising from your stomach, goosebumps rising over your body. Euphoria washes over you, as you twitch, cumming onto his cock. Each wave makes you whimper, finding your thighs shaking, your grip loosening on his shoulders.

"That's it," Kenshi urges, as your body shudders one last time, releasing you from the jaws of bliss. His hands are gentle, somehow softer, as they pull you in closer to him.

Slowly, Kenshi pulls you off of him, your sweetness covering the base of his dick. You moan at the release, leaning further into him. He rubs your back, pulling you down with him into the bed. He whispers sweet nothings in your ear, telling you how good you did, how loved you make him feel, and just how much he adores you. He will clean you up, later. But for now, he bathes in the afterglow with you held closely to his chest. To his heart.

[aanoia]

So I love speak now (Taylor’s verison) and like I was lowkey hopping for you to do a better than revenge (Taylor’s version) for Sirius black/James potter x reader please?

HII THANK YOU FOR THE REQUEST so so sorry it took me a few days to get out, I hope you like it

Better Than Revenge

Sirius Black x reader words; 2,380 warnings; cheating, fake blood, reader is kinda a dick but its deserved ig uhhh idk how i feel about this fic, so give me some feeback please (if it's not the usual i provide please tell me so I can figure out what's wrong) but IM BACKK i stopped writing for a few days because I've had so much going on lately. I hope you guys enjoy though I know that as I wrote the first part of this yesterday there was something I wanted to mention up here but I can't remember so if something doesn't make sense than ig that's it also yall im so drained and overhwelmed right now so the stories will be coming out slower (they are what make me feel better, so i want to do im not gonna force myself too, they'll just take a bit longer to create) if you love a song, the marauders era, and my writing, request a song fic and your wish shall be my command. enjoy my loves

Now go stand in the corner and think about what you did

Ha

Ha-ha, time for a little revenge

The story starts when it was hot, and it was summer, and

I had it all, I had him right there where I wanted him

I smiled happily as I walked onto platform 9 ¾, hand in hand with my boyfriend, Sirius Black. The group had hung out this summer and Sirius had finally asked me out. After what felt like a lifetime of waiting, he was finally mine. And only mine. At least, that’s the impression I received.

We greeted our friends we hadn’t seen since the year ended, and I didn’t fail to notice the way Sirius dropped my hand to tightly hug a blonde I had never met. I narrowed my eyes slightly, and it seemed James had the same idea as we shared a weird look. 

She came along, got him alone, and let's hear the applause

She took him faster than you could say "sabotage"

I ran into the Gryffindor common room, shock filling my veins as the painting slammed shut behind me. I stood in the entrance silently, mouth open and eyes focused on a piece of thread which was unraveling from a pillow on the ground.

“Y/n?” Remus asked as he, James, and Peter all walked over to figure out what was going on. 

“What happened?” Peter asked, scratching his arm lightly.

I looked at James and shook my head, tears threatening to spill. His posture deflated in defeat as his eyes widened.

“He didn’t? Did he?” 

“Who did what?” Remus asked, looking back and forth between James and I as the door flew open.

“Y/n-”

“Don’t.” James cut him off, gently pulling me to the side and stepping in between us. “Just don’t.”

I never saw it coming, wouldn't have suspected it

I underestimated just who I was dealing with (oh)

She had to know the pain was beating on me like a drum

She underestimated just who she was stealing from

“I’m not just gonna let her slut around and steal my boyfriend, James.” I explained and he shook his head. 

He sent me a teasing smile, “Whatever happened to girls supporting girls?”

I rolled my eyes, “Nothing. It’s girls supporting girls. Not girls supporting whores.”

“What has that man done to you?” Remus asked, shaking his head.

“He’s broken me, duh. And I’m gonna show both of them not to break things that aren’t theirs.”

She's not a saint, and she's not what you think

She's an actress, whoa

“So, Miss Standley, could you show us your potion?” The potions professor asked and the blonde nodded and stood up.

I winked at James as she began explaining what she did, he rolled his eyes, “So first, I put in diced Mandrake, and it has to be diced because if you just slic-” She was cut off by a yelp as her potion exploded in her face, the green goo covering her entire body. The entire class laughed as I silently slid my wand back into my pockets, missing the glare Sirius sent my way.

The girl ran out of the classroom, Sirius following after her, but not before making sure I saw the glare he sent my way. I smiled with a laugh, simply waving my hand and winking at the boy as he passed by.

He was a moth to the flame

She was holding the matches, whoa

“She what?” I asked Remus with wide eyes and he groaned.

“Don’t be so loud.” He pleaded, looking around to make sure no one heard him.

“She kissed you?”

“Yes.”

“And he breath tastes like garlic?”

“I’m gonna kill you.”

I shrugged with a smile, “At least we know she isn’t a vampire.”

Soon she's gonna find stealing other people's toys

On the playground won't make you many friends

She should keep in mind, she should keep in mind

There is nothing I do better than revenge (revenge), ha

“What are you doing now, Y/n?” Peter asked, causing Remus to look up from his book mid bite and James, who had his arm around Lily, to look over.

I smirked as I watched Sirius and Dolores together, and it only widened as she picked up her goblet to take a drink. I silently mutter an incantation to make her pumpkin juice turn to rum, causing yet another explosion and black soot to darken her face and hair. James and Peter bit back laughs as I sat proudly, arms crossed as people once again laughed at her. Remus just rolled his eyes and continued reading, only slightly finding this situation amusing. 

She looks at life like it's a party, and she's on the list

She looks at me like I'm a trend, and she's so over it

I think her ever-present frown is a little troubling, and

She thinks I'm psycho, 'cause I like to rhyme her name with things

I once again smiled proudly as people wore buttons around the school, telling people to vote Y/n L/n as Gryffindor prefect. 

I looked up from the small Bowtruckle I had found on a tree as a shriek filled the hall. The Bowtruckle crawled under my sleeve in fear of the annoying sound. Before I could stop myself, I laughed loudly as I saw Dolores fuming over what the buttons turned into when she came near them, Sirius stood beside her, trying to calm her down. Dolores Clitoris (horrible rhyme but it’s the best I got).

Her head snapped towards me, her face became unbelievably red, a vein popping out of her neck as she stormed over, Sirius trailing behind her like a lost puppy.

“You!” She screeched, pointing her finger at me as she fumbled to get her wand. In a moment, she put her wand up only to be met with mine already in her face.

I grinned, “Better think about your next move here, sweetheart. I’ve won against you in duels for DADA multiple times.”

She glared heavily, “Yeah well, you’re just a jealous bitch who couldn’t keep a boyfriend.”

I fake pouted at her, “Awh, you’re so cute. You enjoy your little puppy, I must be off.” I said, stepping to the side and grabbing my bag. As I walked away I paused and turned back around. “Oh, and, you were barely a hard component in getting prefect. I would have rathered some competition, but we both know what you did to them.” I smiled and she looked at me in shock. “Yeah, that’s right, I know what you did.”

But sophistication isn't what you wear or who you know

Or pushing people down to get you where you wanna go

They didn't teach you that in prep school, so it's up to me

But no amount of vintage dresses gives you dignity (think about what you did)

“Peter, what the hell happened?” I asked as I burst through the infirmary doors. 

“Y/n, chill out.” James said immediately.

“Was it her?” I asked quietly and he nodded. I looked at Peter in sympathy, knowing she did it only to get back at me.

“Don’t you worry though. She looks worse.” Remus added and Peter smiled at me. I quicked my brow as my eyes wandered to Dolores on the bed, a small cut on her eyebrow as her eye area puffed up largely.

I rubbed Peter's shoulder excitedly, “I’m so proud. I feel like a proud mother.”

She's not a saint, and she's not what you think

She's an actress, whoa

He was a moth to the flame

She was holding the matches, whoa

“No, he can’t know.” I heard a familiar voice whisper and I looked up from my potions essay.

“Dolores, I don’t like sneaking around with you. It’s risky.” Another voice said from behind the bookshelf.

“Baby, I’ll break up with him soon. Don’t worry. Just don’t leave me.” She whispered again and my eyes widened. Why am I not surprised?

Soon she's gonna find stealing other people's toys

On the playground won't make you many friends

She should keep in mind, she should keep in mind

There is nothing I do better than revenge (ha-ha)

“I’m serious. She’s cheating on him, guys. I don’t know what to do.” I told the three boys as we sat in an empty classroom.

“I think it’s time we join you in your pranks.” James decided and I smiled.

“I haven’t heard a smarter thing come from your mouth, Potter.”

“Oh Godric, I’m in.” Remus said begrudgingly and Peter nodded with him, saying he was in too.

I'm just another thing for you to roll your eyes at, honey

You might have him, but haven't you heard?

“There you go, sweeties. You know what to do.” I said quietly as I set down a mama Niffler and her babies, the small group immediately filing through the cracked open dorm of Dolores’ room.

I gave James a thumbs up and he nodded, standing in front of the girls stairway as I also snuck into the room. I cringed as I heard the god awful singing of Dolores and carefully opened the bathroom door. I snatched her clothes and quietly muttered a spell which would turn her water into fake blood in five minutes. Which means I had to be quick. I threw the clothes into the bag I had put an enlargement spell on on the inside and went to her dresser before stuffing all her clothes in it. I locked her friend's dressers with a spell only I could undo and snuck back out after carefully setting the Nifflers - who had gained quite the collection of shineys - into the bag.

I made it out just in time as the moment the door clothes loud screams rang out. I ran down to James who was talking to an angry Sirius. Sirius took a moment to look between James, me, and the bag in my hand while he listened to his girlfriend's cries. I looked at him hard and simply shrugged before walking past him and sitting on the couch, thanking Peter for the Nifflers and Remus for the bag as loud footsteps came down the stairs. I sniggered as Sirius gently led Dolores up the stairs to the boys dormitory, the rest of the Common Room laughing at her crazed figure that was barely covered with a towel. Oh how much fun that was.

I'm just another thing for you to roll your eyes at, honey

You might have him, but I'll always get the last word

Whoa

(Come on, can you take it back?)

(Come on)

“You’ve got some real nerve.” A cold voice said and I jumped slightly, thinking I was alone in the common room. I looked up from my book to see Sirius glaring at me from the bottom of the boys stairs.

I laughed, “Do I?”

Sirius rolled his eyes and stepped forward, “Yeah, you do. You’re just a jealous prick.”

I snorted as I stood from my comfortable spot on the couch, “That’s not how you talk to a woman, Mr. Black.”

“I don’t care. You an arse to someone who doesn’t deserve it. Someone who's kind!”

I scoffed, “That girl is far from kind. You know it.”

“You don’t know her!” He said, raising his voice slightly.

“Yeah, well, you don’t know her either, Sirius!”

She's not a saint, and she's not what you think (no)

She's an actress, whoa (you know that you deserve it)

He was a moth to the flame

She was holding the matches, whoa

“And how the fuck would you know?” He fully yelled this time.

“Oh, I don’t know, man. Did you know she tried to kiss James?” 

Sirius scoffed, shaking his head, “You’re a liar.”

“Maybe. She also put Peter in the infirmary.”

“He gave her a black eye!”

“Because she attacked him, for fucks sake!”

“She said he attacked her and you put him up to it!” He yelled and I barely picked up the sound of footsteps scrambling down the stairs.

Soon she's gonna find stealing other people's toys

On the playground won't make you many friends

“And you’re going to believe her over your best fucking friend? I mean, you’re goddamn delusional, Sirius.”

“And you’re jealous!”

She should keep in mind, she should keep in mind

There is nothing I do better than revenge (ha-ha)

“Goddamnit, she’s fucking cheating on you! She’s cheating on you, and you fucking deserve it. And I hope you two know that I’m not fucking done. I will not stop until I’m satisfied.” (I will never be satisfied, he will never be satisfied!) I yelled and stormed past him, hitting my shoulder roughly against his and ignoring the soft calls of Remus and Peter as James went to Sirius.

Do you still feel like you know what you're doing?

'Cause I don't think you do, oh (no, no, no, no)

Do you still feel like you know what you're doing? (No)

I don't think you do, I don't think you do (come on), let's hear the applause

“So, David, is it?” I asked the boy as I sauntered up to him, my button up purposefully unbuttoned enough to see whatever cleavage I had. 

The boy looked me up and down with a smirk, “And to whom does it concern?”

I fake laughed loudly, jokingly pulling on his tie, “Me of course!” I said in a sickly sweet voice, cringing inside at myself.

“What do you need, beautiful?” He asked as the doors to the library opened, in the corner of my eyes I saw Sirius and Dolores walk hand in hand. Bingo.

Come show me how much better you are (feels so much better, yeah?)

See, you deserve some applause

'Cause you're so much better

“This.” I whispered and pulled him in by his shirt, smashing my lips. I smirked as a broken gasp filled the quiet area, barely opening an eye to see Dolores standing with tears filling her eyes, and Sirius looking confused. I closed my eyes, deepening the kiss as I raised my middle finger to the two. Paybacks a bitch.

She took him faster than you could say "sabotage"

my masterlist

taglist (if u wanna be added js comment :));

@loving-and-dreaming @1lellykins @poetrypirate

[elsfairy]

First date, compared to now.

Then;

• I feel like if Sevika has a crush on you, she's definitely going to be nervous about your first date. This was new to her, especially with having a crush on someone.

• For sure spends a few hours on deciding what she wants to wear. It shouldn't matter but it was her first ever date and she wanted to actually put effort in.

• Has seen how perfect you dress, and somehow felt like she needed to do the same. Just in hopes you would do on another date with her.

• Although you already found her perfect the way she is.

• Sevika is honestly drinking and smoking a lot before she gets ready. Time is of the essence sure, but she panicked. Which lead to more smoking.

• Her hands will become sweaty and shaky the minute she looks at you standing there. You, of all people made her nervous.

• She will find herself staring at you whenever she gets the chance. Still anxious, but she's making conversation with you. You just find it cute that she's so nervous.

• You just can't stop staring at her gapped tooth whenever she was talking. It was adorable. Although that alone will make her tense, she wasn't used to it. Also staring is rude, but she is staring at you constantly so two people can play that game right?

• Nervously mumbles out a small "you're just really beautiful" when you catch her looking at you again. It was weird, seeing Sevika so nervous around you. It was beautiful though.

• "you're really beautiful too Sevika"

• Panics about kissing you. Really does not want to fuck anything up, but you make it easier for her by just kissing her cheek with those soft lips of yours. Damn it.

Now;

• After your few years of dating, Sevika only gets nervous on some of your dates but not as much as she used to on the first one.

• Your regular seat is yes, in her lap. She constantly glares at people who look at you, but smirks at the people who wishes they were ones who had you, your love and your heart.

• You love to rile her up by telling her that she's "hot" or "really fucking beautiful". You never miss to tell her that, or a just simple "i love you".

• Sevika still wasn't used to the words, but she adored hearing them from you. Of course her own i love you's would be told, in private but that's because her private life didn't need to be in the public.

• She's not scared to show people you belong to her, and only her. You only have to rest your head on her shoulder and everyone knows to not try getting to you.

• Doesn't have to ask you what you wanted to eat because she already knows exactly what you like, love, dislike and hate.

• Most of the time, you just loved being in her embrace. Neither of you had to say anything in moment likes these because being with each other was more than words could tell you each sometimes.

• She finds it really relaxing when you thread your fingers through her hair, scratching her scalp comfortingly. You always giggle when she grunts. It was amusing to you.

• Will 100% try turning you on to an extreme in public. She will try literally everything. Jokes on her, you're always turned on when she's around you.

• Constantly whispering in your ear that you're her perfect "sweetheart"

• Refuses to let you constantly smoke, but will give you some of hers if you ask. It was a bad habit, one she had but she didn't want you to be hurt or crave it all the time. The first time you tried, you coughed for a good 15 minutes. Sevika needed you to be safe after all.

Note: My eyes burn, so fucking bad. Rip my already shit eyesight. That 2014 vision sucking balls. Pls just enjoy this, idk what im doing anymore.

[p5x-theories]

While im enjoying some stuff and its too early to judge from a beta, i feel like the stakes in this game are way waaay less severe than the original game. Wonder's life seems to be pretty chill compared to Joker's. Closer's relationship with the first palace ruler its way less personal than Ann and Ryuji's, and even Tomoko falling down the train rail its nowhere tragic as Shiho's attempt. There are no stakes, no urgency that if they dont stop the villain their life will be over. And its sad because the biggest appeal of the Phantom Thieves to me was this bunch of kids misstreated by society becaming eachother's family, here its like they are doing things just because the games needs to or Ruffy tells them :( i hope things will get better as the game goes on

I completely understand, the stakes definitely aren't as high, at least right now. And it's certainly not as urgent, which may be in part due to how P5X will prevent you from progressing the story (at least between Palaces?) until you're a certain level.

But I do think it's worth noting that Wonder doing things because Ruferu is telling him to is also part of the plot. It's clear from the start that that's sort of something Wonder is struggling with- he doesn't really know what he wants to do; he left his form about what he wants to do after finishing high school blank, and even after awakening his Persona is very much just going with what Ruferu tells him to do next. I can't guarantee that you'll like wherever the writers of P5X are going with this, but I think what you're picking up here is an intentional change that we're going to see payoff for later on.

As a sort of related thread, the P5X kids seem to be a lot looser with their secret identities than the Phantom Thieves were, and later on that might tie into either the current lack of urgent stakes and/or the way Wonder just goes along with things. So far the Wonder Squad can afford to be kind of lazy and open about this, but that might not be the case later on, especially if the stakes escalate. I think it might be fun if the first two or three Palaces are relatively low-stakes for them, and then problems start to catch up for them and they've got to get serious/they learn they've already screwed something up.

Which is all to say, I agree with where you're coming from here, but I'm staying optimistic, and I suppose we'll find out eventually, haha.

[divineprank]

Hello friends.

I haven't had a full night's sleep in 12 days. I haven't even had half of a night's sleep. I'm beyond exhausted and as much as I love it here, as much as I love writing, as much as I enjoy being surrounded by all you incredibly talented writers, and as much as I love interacting with your amazing muses, I just don't have the energy to RP right now.

The level of stress I'm dealing with right now is insane and while I know people don't ever expect me to rush or to neglect myself or my responsibilities to get RP threads done, I still can't help but kick myself right now. I mean, I feel a little guilty because I'm already a slow writer with my home life and with my personal duties and responsibilities often taking up all of my time and energy, but the past two weeks have been especially bad.

Please know that I'm aware that I owe people RP threads and that I'm not purposefully neglecting and ignoring anyone. I know that some people here have anxiety when it comes to slow writers and as someone that also has anxiety, I know how easy it is to accidentally get away from yourself. So I really want to make sure that people know that I'm being slower than usual for me, not because I don't like any of the people waiting on me, or because I'm hiding or avoiding anyone... It's nothing like that at all. I've been trying to sit down and write and I keep getting pulled away, or I can't get really invested in what I'm doing out of exhaustion. I'm hoping by this weekend I can get some small stuff done. I hate that I have to step back and take a break from this, but I think it's necessary right now. To be totally honest, I can barely find the time or energy to take care of myself, and so I think that means I need to put RP on the backburner. That being said, I still need to take a little time for myself to unwind and destress, so I'll probably be still around liking posts and sending in RP memes/ask prompts. But I just don't have the energy to sit down and commit to really writing anything longer than a paragraph right now.

If there's any questions, feel free to send me an ask or an IM and I'll tell you all my secrets. Thanks for understanding, I keep dozing off so I'm gonna go see if I can steal a nap before I have to help out again.

[astraystayyh]

my rin i can't tell you how many times I've reread your feedback since you rbed it, i was, still am, in disbelief that you took the time to not only read my fic but also leave the sweetest most thoughtful feedback on it :( i can't find the words to tell you how much i appreciate you, every word you wrote warmed my heart beyond belief, you really made this fic more special in my eyes, especially since it's coming from YOU, a writer i admire so so so much, so thank you I can't tell you how grateful i am for this :((((

NOW onto your tags HEHHEE you are so cute ㅠㅠㅠ a sahar-style live reaction and a date with invisible thread AKSKJD still makes me giggle

im so happy you liked the clay metaphor :')) that was one of the first parts of the story i wrote and it felt like a defining description of who yn is because of what she went through

LEE MINHO!!!!!! the man of the hour wah what a joy to write for him, truly :') AND DOESN'T HE HAVE THE PRETTIEST EYES EVERRRR

and you're so perceptive ㅠㅠㅠㅠㅠ your attention to details throughout your reblog AMAZED ME it felt like you were peering into my brain and citing every reasoning i had for x and y line :')))

YESSS he's just having fun, he likes having a competitor because it stimulates his intelligence,, no mean bone in his body :')

LINOISMS 😭😭😭 coming from THE expert in minho i am so flattered. i am first and most fervent defender of minho best quiet lover agenda!!!! like he's so!!!!! loving!!!! love is in the small things and he's living proof of it

do u remember that skz code episode where minho bursts out laughing at the thought of pranking seungmin and han ㅠㅠㅠㅠㅠ that was what i envisioned just the cutest giggles jumping up and down I LOVE HIM

EEEEE YOU NOTICED ㅠㅠㅠㅠㅠ her picking up his cute mannerisms they're in love ur honor

you complimenting the characterization of minho and yn when YOUR characterization of chan left me in SHAMBLES ㅠㅠㅠㅠㅠㅠ truly the biggest honor it feels like im being complimented by a a master of a craft

immmm soooo glad you enjoyed that particular conversation about colors :(( I've always loved to think about how colors can be associated to feelings so i wanted to include it in their discussions,,,, AND YESSS OFC U PICKED UP ON IT ㅠㅠㅠㅠ he does feel invisible too (as you pieced up later!!!!!) just in a different, more subtle, way

LMAOOOO me inspired directly by his vlog cooking for felix :')) he has such distinct quirks it was so fun to think of how i could include them heheheh THE MOSS THEORY STANDS CORRECT!!!!!! they do a lot for each other i think that's what i wanted to highlight the most, how loving someone means healing wounds you haven't inflicted,, it's a two-way road of caring and being there for each other :'))

HEHEHEHHE U ARE RIGHT YOU'RE ALWAYS RIGHT ㅠㅠㅠㅠㅠ her being broken doesn't mean she isn't enough, the cracks can now be filled with gold, leading way to a better version of herself :'))

and yessss the sad meow meow (cutest minho depiction) scene was rlly a breakthrough in their rp, she knows he goes through bad days just like her and he learns that he can trust her with them. THEY'RE GROWING (me acting as if i didn't write this)

EEEEEE IM SQUEALING AND GIGGLING BECAUSE U NOTICED ALL THE PARALLELS ㅠㅠㅠㅠㅠㅠ i need to say again how much i appreciate you taking the time to do this it like warms my heart beyond belief i swear i feel very yellow now :')))

that was such a challenging part to write but it was also necessary as u pointed out :') firm believe of healing isn't linear and there's nothing wrong with that!! we can't expect something that had hurt us for years to be erased in mere months,,, but they're getting there :'))))

I'm smiling like an idiot i swear you're insane to me rin INSANE ㅠㅠㅠㅠㅠ i really wanted it to come full circle and to know that i somewhat achieved that :')) CAN'T TELL YOU HOW MUCH THIS AND YOU MEAN TO ME. thank you thank you thank you x 100000.

you're the absolute sweetest rin i can't ever tire of saying it :(((( your words truly made me so so so happy "it's like you carefully stacked more and more to the foundation of their bond until before we know it, there's an entire home there that they built steadily together" this is one of the most thoughtful things anyone has ever said about my writing i genuinely can't thank you enough for this reblog, I'll keep it safe in my heart for colder days. thank youuuuu once again my angel and i can't wait to read more from youuuu as well <3333

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.

[sotoro-ma]

Tell me about a blorbo of yours.

What do they do? Do they eat interesting food?

What was the first crime they commited in your heart to make them as such (what elevated them to blorbo status)?

Oooo

This is a funny one cause I don't really tend to get blorbos from media. There is a lot of facinating characters and ideologies that intrigue me and make me wonder how they work. But never to a point of truly being blorbo like others do? I like playing with them and chewing on them like a toy, but never really... get attached? In a profound way.

Which I fully believe is a me issue and maybe a bit of depression talking XD

I liked Spinel and Lapis a lot from Steven Universe! Spinel for the happy go lucky turned to bitter antagonist, which is always such fascinating development. Lapis because of how angry and resentful she can be but still having such a soft spot and yearnings.

Currently finished "In Stars and Time" (a game) and still figuring out who I like most. Though I might go with Loop, who is a "Star". Sazy nonbinary but has seen some shit. There is a lot of points in the game where you can get them to open up or be nicer and man, does it give such depth.

Oh! Darius from The Owl House! Just his attitude and the plus of him helping out while being in enemy lines? Amazing. (Tixckgckg- I'm noticing a thread of me enjoying characters who can/are mean/sassy but have soft spots and do genuinely care a lot)

Might have more, but i can't remember right now!

My characters, I think, are as close as I get to really have someone with like true blorbo status.

I'll just but my thoughts about them under the Read More. Don't want a super long thing XD

*Points at Dreamscape* I have so many blorbos there you won't believe. (Took me like three tries to write a not super long thing for all of tgem XD)

Main one is my little guy Stin. Who is suchhhh a layered and complex character I like to think.

They technically had "three lives". Though im counting the last two seperate when really it's the same life. Plays with time loops and isolation/alienation and what does mentally. Which is doile fun cause when i first made them I knew they were dead! And I juat attached and further developed them into this layered mess of a person.

That's Stin. And I love them so much. Such a little shit that wants to be the cryptic helper who knows too much.

And then there is Naseem who just is- mwah- chef's kiss.

He is such an explosive person. Both keeping a tight hold of his emotions but also exploding with them when they reach a peak. Likes being a little shit and likes having control over things. But hates being confined and restricted. Very free spirited.

I love that he bites back and gets angry. But also desperately tries not to a lot and wants to be perceived as this cool guy who just has a tad bit of teeth to his bark. It's so fun!

I got more, and some of my other co-writers for Dreamscape characters. But I'll leave it at that!

For Toonkind, currently, it's Lluvia who only has been in one game. But I'm planning stuff with her for Sandy lore game and I'm so excited to run that once I'm done writing game notes!!!

She is just a fun design and really is a sweet kid who is tied up in stuff that she can't get out of. And doesn't even know if she wants out of the situation.

Thanks for the question Super <3

[its-a-hil]

extremely long poem-like excerpt from my diary last may under the read more you should definitely just scroll past it

gonna go to bed now.

i read all of my diary entries from junior year

i am so fucking annoyed by past sahil like god she just… doesn't know so many things about herself i want to give her such a big hug fuck

also stuff with <friend name redacted> and <friend name redacted> and all of that and it's just … really melancholic

also also apparently google decided it's time to just reset all of my google accounts in firefox?????????? very confused ugh

i need to go to sleep

and i need to tell her everything not just bc it would directly improve present me's quality of life, but bc i i want her life to be better i want her to go on e so much earlier fuck please i want her to not be broken i want me to not be broken i want this all to work i want my heart to be functional i want someone to rest their head on my chest and vice versa i want to not have all of this fucking hair on my body i want to never have to worry about what time it is i want to be warm im so cold my head feels stuffy i need to sleep

i know it's never productive to imagine the effect of a single change on my life but but what if i knew what if i watched eva and someone told me shinji was trans codded (assuming i even kin her at all) what if bna was out by that time or if i had played bandori and saw so much of myself in aya and hina and maya or if i had watched monogatari or if i had considered the reasons why i kinned shouma or if or if or if please why does everything in the past always feel so inevitable or a product of chance it's always one of those two

the only reason i watched monogatari was bc of that egoist002 channel putting klk music and also having that katanagatari amv somewhere and even then it took nearly a year for me to start monogatari and another half year to understand that gender was a thing and another two fucking years to be honest with myself god im still so mad about when dad said that he was upset that i said i was in denial when i told him i didnt want hrt like what the fuck im fucking sorry that i, a fucking 19 year old, didnt know what the fuck i was doing with regards to a subject that never made a ton of sense to me maybe transitions like that have to happen slowly because i can't do things instantaneously everything i do is always studying and convincing it looks like the end product comes out instantly, but it doesnt it takes so long i have to workshop everything and the more scared i am the longer it takes i was so scared i am so scared no that's not right im not scared im scared of a lot of other things, but not this im scared of some reactions to it but not it itself how can i be scared how can i fucking be scared of feeling like a person with agency over my life you dont fucking understand dad you either dont know how it feels to coast and hide and conceal your tears from yourself or you just dont seem to process what that means for me i hate cars i hate destinations i want to walk slowly i want to take note of every bird, every flower i want to linger in quiet moments forever i dont want to materially affect the world im too selfish for that i want to stop, and have everything else pause around me i want to watch, and think, and imagine i want to write, and teach, and study i dont want to work i dont want to drive i dont want to make money or use money i dont want to have to interact with it at all in my life why cant i just be why cant i just breathe and drink and eat and run and climb and talk to the people i care about why does everything have to be about money why does anything have to be about money i hate it its all so wrong it ruins even things that i should care about and enjoy i like messing around in spreadsheets but contextualize that as a money spreadsheet and i  will have such a mental block against opening it

where am i i feel like ive lost an important thread right trans

i want bigger breasts i want brighter hair i want to pass barrring that, i want to be unapologetically visible i want kids to see me and think of me as a monster who they have to listen to bc im their teacher i want to tell them about me i want to tell everyone about everything and listen to their everythings too im sorry

why is that it okay i actually need to fall asleep now why am i listening to prince of doom again fuck okay gn i guess bleh

[vampdes]

helloooo im back and np btw!

also can i request a fluff/smut steve rogers x male reader x bucky barnes? he/they pronouns for the reader!

soo basically steve and bucky both has a crush on the reader, the reader also has a crush on the both of them. one day, they were training together and they (mostly the reader) just flirting while training together. and somehow that led to a confession. and when they finally finished the training and went to bath, together, it somehow led into sex akahkaj

im shit at explaining im so sorry

and for the kinks or othr info

captain/sir kink, pet names(doll, angel, etc), double penetration, spanking, shower sex, markings

oh yeah, sub bottom reader btw!

im sorry if this is alot and confusing!

also can i be 🗯 anon? and have a nice day/night!

─ 🗯

𝗽𝗮𝗶𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀 ; Steve Rogers x M! Reader x Winter Solider/Bucky Barnes

𝘀𝘂𝗺𝗺𝗮𝗿𝘆 ; uh, sex in a hot-tub. yeah? yeah. they're not five feet apart cause they're all gay !!<3

𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀 ; NSFW: p.w.p, double penetration, drugging (aphrodisiac), captain/sir kink, pet names (doll, angel, etc), hot-tub sex, markings

𝗻𝗼𝘁𝗲𝘀 ; this is SO LONG, IM SORRU :(( but it's in detail nd enjoyable, i promise honey<3 this has a good plot, i actually like it so much<33 ALSO, I COULDNT ADD IMAGES 4 SOME REASON, IM GONNA CRY :((((

The planned '' hot-tub hangout only between us three because if the paparazzi catches us, we'll be in a scandal'' hangout between the three comrades were to commence at around. . right now, actually. [name] gathered his belongs, a towel was hung over his shoulder as he carried a tray filled with pastries from the local bakery that the trio enjoyed very much. The said trio had been flying from country to country on missions to stop Hydra, so why shouldn't they have small time by themselves?

Deep laughs and soothing conversation between the three could be found in the hot, foaming water as they mingled with each other comfortably. Steve's eyes were closed as his arms were rested on the sleek marble around them, '' Yeah right, like you stopped 'em. You were flirting with the doctor there [name]! He was married!'' Bucky explained their mission in (—) with a bright smile on his face as he rested in a comforting position. [name], on the other hand, only sat with his legs ankle-deep in the bubbling water, letting the breeze whiz by as he gnawed on a [f.flavor] cake-pop off of the tray he had bought. '' Awe, c'mon Bucky, you can't tell me he didn't look cute flustered! He looked like a strawberry, so cute!'' [name] gushed, a faint smile on his face as an endless conversation began.

Bubbling laughter filled the calm atmosphere, it was like the three had a red string tied between them, never losing a thread. A sweet, honey-like taste filled [name]'s senses, as he bit into a [f.fruit] roll, the taste wrapped itself around his tongue. The unfamiliar taste unknowingly coursing through his veins. '' Oh my god, what is this?'' He questioned, his sweet tooth now hurting like hell was dancing upon it.

'' What?'' Both of the men inquired, Steve opening his wary blue hues. '' My. . eugh, try this!'' He shoved the sweets in their mouths. A shaky feeling ran throughout [name]'s veins, all aiming for his cock. Bucky and Steve's heart beat rang throughout their ears, their normally baby blue and dark brown eyes becoming glossed over with the feeling of fiery lust, the burning passion soon became the aura in the trio's hangout.

' How did we get in such position?' The inquiry didn't cross [name]'s mind as his face was flushed, his body not being in his own control. '' Hah— Fuck, nngh!'' He cried out, the water plunging inside of him with every one of their combined thrusts. The feeling of [name] being stretched to his full ability was too much of a feeling to not enjoy.

'' You're doin' such a good job, angel. Bein' such a good cock whore for me 'n him, aren't you?'' Bucky spoke sweetly, prodding the tip of his dick at your prostate continuously, making the water slosh around your perky chest. '' Ah, yes! Y-es, Sir, ngh!, I am!'' You cried out, tears streaming down from your [e.color] hues, your face flushed a bright red. Steve's canines stabbed into your neck, erupting a lewd scream from your lips as you clawed as his back. '' Shh, be quiet, doll. Calm down, it's not like we're harming you or anythin'.'' He whispered softly, licking the bleeding wound with his slicky tongue. He elicited a moan from you when he did such a disgraceful action.

Steve seemed so shy and nervous most of the time, it didn't cross your mind that he'd been doing such harmful acts towards your body. The markings, most turning purple after he gruesomely '' nibbled'' on your skin, leaving bite mark surrounding your body, mainly your chest. The mesmerizing thought of pulling a moan from your mouth by just biting, sucking, even sliding his tongue across your perky nipples made his body go at such an animalistic speed your body started going into a numbing state. Bucky, however, didn't like you having all your attention on him. He found such an action as. . favoritism.

'' Wai-! Gah, Ah! Hah! Please! Fffuck!'' Your continous pleads and begs for the two to slow down, stretching your soon-to-be gaping hole more that humanly possible. The animalistic pace the two were going at, being competitive with each other, seeing who can show you the most immense pleasure in a matter of seconds. It was as if you weren't being thrashed around like a doll between the two.

'' Captain! Please, s-low do-wn!'' You begged, tears flourishing down your cheeks as he paid your pleas no mind. He hungrily took you lips in a lustful kiss, sliding his tongue across yours, hot, sticky saliva being mixed. Not even a breath after the intense kissing session with Steve, Bucky captured your lips, as if he was claiming you as his, and only his. Choked sobs of pleasure came from you, your high coming down from your body as your vision become quite blurry. A hot substance was shot inside of you, your stomach feeling warm. They didn't stop; they were going to make sure you knew who you belonged too, no matter the cost.

[incissam]

💕💕💕💕💕💕💕

Okay time to love on people.

@caracarnn

I know literally nothing about Rand Al'Thor beyond the Wheel of Time tv show on Amazon and Fish has some how made me truly care about this man with their portrayal. I will fight people that speak badly about this character now because Fish makes him so loveable and relatable and he is kind of a mirror to how I view Dany so that works really well for us shipping them together. PLUS they give me all the feels with our Rhaenyra things too. Our friendship is literally just injuring one another with angst and our love.

@becomelions

I've not had the pleasure of rping with them yet, but I have enjoyed reading their posts on my dash. They seem to have a great love for Ser Harwin Strong which is what I have seen the most of so far and I want to do something with them, but haven't convinced myself to slide into their DMs yet. Their head cannons and portrayal so far though are chef's kiss.

@notenoughmuses

I don't know if it's legal to put the person sending the thing, but yolo I'm doing it and you can't stop me. You're a joy to see on the dash because I can tell you take the time to cultivate every aspect of each of your muses and they all have clear voices and don't sound like one bleeds into another. I love our thread with Viserys and I would love to do more with your other muses too if we could work something out sometime.

@inspireswar

Okay so their portrayal and views on Lyanna are so GOOD. Like I love it and their verses are clearly very well thought out so the reactions to other characters from Lyanna are on point. For a character that we know so little about in reality they have really breathed life into her and made her seem like someone we know as well as the characters we read the POV of in the books. Just all the props here.

@caraxes--rider

20/10 human right here. They're so nice and I am so in love with our thread we have running right now. Their portrayal of Daemon is so good and one of my favorites especially with the reactions to Rhaenyra. I just can't deal with the feels that are delivered sometimes and it's fantastic. I honestly can't recommend them enough to people.

@agirlofwinterfell / @songcfmuses

Brit is fantastic and I love her. She's trying out some new muses and getting a feel for them currently on her multimuse. We're flirting with an Alicent AU currently where she clings to Rhaenyra rather than wanting to murder her and such. It's a good time and she's just a great person to hang out with and chat to.

@the-rogue-dragon

We haven't totally gotten into the swing of rping together, but I still enjoy seeing them on my dash and they have been so good to just chat in IMs to. I love reading their rps when they come across my dash because much like my previous Daemon mentioned they also have such a great grasp on the duality of his character.

Man that was a lot I hope it was a heart for every person. lol

[sxdmoonchxld]

Proven Wrong | KTH

Taehyung x reader

Words: 4k+

Genre: smut

Warnings: Rough Sex, Oral Sex, Fingerfucking, Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex, Cunnilingus, Begging, Multiple Orgasms, Very Big Dick Tae, Like Scary Big, Like Gut Splitting Big, Unrealistic Sex, Belly Bulge, Bad Dirty Talk, Unprotected Sex, Gets A Little Dubious Consent Towards The End

Summary: You call his dick small. He proves that it’s not, by wrecking your pussy ;)

a/n: again i use to be lizardsocial. this was my most popular story on here so im bringing it back as well. i think you can find the original one on here somewhere. i don’t expect it to get half as many notes it did the first time but thas okai. i’ve edited kinda heavily so it's a little different from the original. its filthier. anywhos. Enjoy!

__________________________________________

Loud music blasted throughout your apartment, the rumbling bass from the speakers reverberated through your bedroom walls. Pictures and posters rippled with each vibration, struggling to retain their original position. You groaned in annoyance, you honestly thought your request was quite simple. Just a couple of hours. 120 minutes of quietness was all you asked for so that you could study for your upcoming calculus test. He knew how important this exam was to you. He evened 'pinky promise, cross your heart hope to die'. That he would give you the silence needed to stay focused. And everyone knew you don't break a pinky promise.

Even now in your annoyance, his voice still played on a constant loop in your head.

"Oh! Yea ___, not a problem. I can keep it quiet for you. So don't you worry a hair on your pretty little head!" Taehyung had said, waving his hand in the air feigning nonchalance.

That cute signature boxy smile of his planted face. You actually thought that for once he would keep his word, and you could get some precious studying time, but no. The tiny 2-bedroom shared apartment was full of heavy jazz music and high-pitched shrieking from what sounded like a cat being skinned alive. Who even listens to jazz music when trying to fuck?

The last thread of patience had now been pulled too thin and finally snapped. Your desire to study was gone with the wind, and in its place, irritability and wrath began to take root. You slammed your laptop closed and threw it to the end of the bed along with your papers and textbook. Jumping out of bed, you stomped your way out of the bedroom, eyes searching frantically for your target.

"Taehyung!" You yelled once you began to process the scene that was in front of you. The living room was in shambles, Taehyung's phone was hooked up to the speaker, the volume loud enough you swore angels in heaven could hear. An empty soda bottle, chip bags and clothes littered the floor. Don't even get you started on the couch pillows! Your one of a kind thrift finds were strewn all over the place. You felt your blood pressure rising, the vein at your temple fattening in rage and pulsing wildly. Your jaw threatening to ache from how hard you were grinding your teeth out of anger.

Your eyes investigated the vicinity for Taehyung and low and behold there he was on the now bare couch. Lying underneath him was the source of the vexatious screeches. He was dry humping on some random chick with his mouth fiercely attached to her neck, deep purple bruises vivid from where you stood across the room. You rolled your eyes at the pair. You knew damn well Taehyung's thin lips and weak thrusts didn't call for all that useless screaming. 

You stomped over to the speaker, your sock padded feet slapping against the hardwood floor, and yanked the cord from the wall. Already the apartment was halfway quiet except for the banshee that was still squawking her head off.

"Hey! Shut the fuck up with all that noise!" You roared, scaring the girl and finally bringing their attention to your heated figure. Taehyung separated his lips from the girl's neck with a wet smack dislodging himself from between her spread thighs.

"Y/n, so nice of you to join us. How is studying going?" Taehyung spoke with a grin plastered on his handsome face. You resisted the urge to reach out and slap it off. He knew that you couldn't or anybody for a fact, could study with all the noise that was just previously filling the confines of the apartment. Yet here he was playing with the smidge of patience you had left by trying to simulate naiveté.

"All I asked was for you to be silent so that I could study for my upcoming test, and you said that you would. But instead, I am interrupted by your noisy ass music. Jazz music at that and this bitch here screaming at the top of her lungs!" You growled out between clenched teeth. The female gasped at your words embarrassment transforming her features, while Taehyung sat there with a blank look on his face, apparently unamused with your little rant.

"Oh my! Please excuse my rude roommate Mino. Obviously, her parents forgot to teach her basic manners. Let me walk you to the door." Taehyung spoke his fluffy curls swaying with the shakes of his head. A look of disappointment aimed your way as he began helping her gather her things and walking her to the front door.

"Umm, actually my name is Mina." She corrected Taehyung, but you could see it on his face that he could care less about the girl's name. Taehyung looked at her for a few seconds, as if he was processing the correct information of the girl's name.

"Yeah. Mona, that's what I said, isn't it?" Taehyung deadpanned, pushing her through the front door. Mina huffed at the fact that Taehyung continued to get her name wrong. You observed the pitiful interaction as you began to clean up the mess they made. You could tell from the look in Mina's eyes that she wanted more with Taehyung, but you knew that would never happen. Taehyung was a manwhore, a fuckboy, man thot, whatever the preferred term was. He had a new girl every night, and if he did try the whole "relationship smorgasbord" as he called it. The relationship usually didn't last for more than a week, before he was on to his next conquest.

"Tae?" You questioned meekly.

"Hmm?" He hummed head-turning slightly in your direction.

"Why do you do these things to me." You were genuinely curious as to why he made it his mission to push your every button. This wasn't the first time his action has hindered you from completing an important task. You just didn't understand why he chose to make your life more complicated than it already was.

"Awe is little __ j-jealous?" Taehyung taunted in a high-pitched voice used to entertain babies or puppies.

"Huh?!" You gasped choking on your saliva.  Shit, you almost gave yourself whiplash with how fast you swung your neck to make full eye contact.

"Did you wish that was you, I was grinding on?" Taehyung continued to taunt as he walked into the kitchen to rinse his mouth out with water. That Mina girl had put way too much perfume on her neck. Now he was left with a sour aftertaste in his mouth. It tasted cheap, and Taehyung didn't do cheap.

If he was sincere with himself, he did wish it was you he was giving all his attention instead of these random girls. He considered you cute and innocent, with an air of sexiness. That he was pretty sure you weren't conscious of. In all actuality, Taehyung was smitten with you from the first time he saw when you came to ask about the roommate needed sign he had posted. The cute little freshman with a quirky personality and full of ambition. Those first 10 minutes of meeting you had him sprung like no other.  You were way different from the usual girls he was used to. Which shouldn't be much of a surprise since most just wanted to fuck, have money spent on them. Oh! Of course, the bragging rights, that they actually got to fuck THE Kim Taehyung.

Don't get him wrong, there had been a countless amount of times he had tried to gain your attention. But you were too busy holed up in your room with your pretty little head stuck in a book to give him the time of day. So instead Taehyung reverted back to his middle school ways and chose to torment and irritating you as a way to receive some type of reaction from you. He would take whatever he could get, he was becoming that desperate.

"What exactly did I have to be jealous of? You do know she was faking it right? I didn't think you to be so naive Tae, because you and I both know that them thin ass lips-" You stopped to point at the box that made up his mouth. "And that speck in your pants that you call a dick can't make anyone scream." You declared assuredly, moving your pointer finger down to his crotch. Pride and confidence swelled in your chest at the insult thrown at him. 'Good one __'

Taehyung spat out the water he was swishing around in his mouth and whipped his head in your direction. Did you just stand there and try to insult his manhood? Nah, clearly his hearing had to be a little off, right?

"Excuse me, what did you just say? My ears must be failing me." Taehyung said wiping the stray droplets of water from his mouth, sticking a finger in his ear to loosen the imaginary earwax there. Amused, he sauntered towards you, a ghost of a smirk rising on his face.

"You heard me, Mr.Kim. Your micropenis couldn't pleasure anything but your hand if even that." You said backing up, as he prowled closer to you, his shoulder in a tense bunch raised close to his ears. Any amusement his face could have held was gone, in its place was a dark, unreadable expression. His mouth fixed in a firm line, and the tip of his ears blossomed red. Flames of anger and lust flashing in his chocolate eyes.

"My sweet __, nothing about me is little. I can guarantee that." Taehyung growled out, his already deep voice deepened in tone. You scoffed trying to portray indifference but continued backing away from his advancing until your back made contact with the wall. Shit.

Taehyung placed his hands beside your head, caging you in. Your eyes fluttered softly as you breathe in his rich cologne encased your senses, dark, woodsy with just a hit of a floral note. His eyes roamed your face, taking in your features before settling on your lips. You self-consciously licked them before tucking them between your teeth. Taehyung leaned his face closer to yours.

"Such a pretty little mouth you have. Has anyone told you how troublesome it could be though?" Taehyung questioned, his thumb on his left coming up to your upper lip.

You could feel your heart beating against your ribcage, feel your cheeks heat up, and dare you say; a gush of wetness in the seat of your boy shorts.  The sexual tension was too powerful for your weak defences. Against your better judgment, you let your eyes flutter closed, and lips pucker expectantly anticipating the moment his lips would meet yours. Except Taehyung had other plans.

He shifted his head to the right, placing a gentle kiss on the lobe of your ear. Slowly moving his lips up to the outer shell of your ear.

You couldn't help the surprised moan that left your mouth as you unconsciously tilted your head back, offering your neck to his probing advances.

"Would you like me to prove you wrong?" Taehyung challenged in a whisper. His deep voice sending shocks of pleasure zinging down your spine. He trailed his lips down your neck, pressing gentle kisses against the surface. You had to choke back the moan that threatened to escape you at the feeling of his soft lips on your neck.

"N-no, Taehyung." You panted breathlessly.

"I don't feel like finding my glasses to look at something too small for the naked eye to see." You spoke, resolute on getting in one last insult. Taehyung pulled his face away from your neck, growling at your words.

"Haha, hilarious." He laughed humorously.

He pulled your body away from the wall, hoisted you up over his shoulder with a small grunt, and made his way to his bedroom. Kicking the door open before unceremoniously throwing you on his plush king-sized bed. 'Not good'.

Taehyung stood at the edge of the bed staring at you with unadulterated lust clouding his eyes. His chest heaved heavily with anger or arousal, you weren't sure. But based on the sizable tent in his pants, you could guess the latter.

"Taehyung! I already told you I don't want to see your baby-." You started but was cut off by Taehyung grabbing your ankles and pulling you roughly to the edge of the bed, pouncing on you. His lips met yours in a kiss that stole your breath away. The kiss was sensual and firm, but you could tell he was holding back.

Taehyung snaked his hand up your body, and into your hair, giving it a sharp tug. You gasped at the slight pain giving him a clear path to ease his tongue into your mouth, coiling itself around your own, deepening the kiss further. He thoroughly explored your mouth not leaving one surfaced untouched by his tongue, greedily swallowing your needy moans. Fuck he tasted good. Like oranges and burnt sugar.

Taehyung detached from your mouth to remove his shirt and to help you remove your tank top as-well. Your nipples pebbling from the chilly air and arousal. His eyes studied your body, you wanted so badly to shield yourself away from his unwavering stare.

"You're so beautiful. I've waited so long for this." Taehyung whispered before attacking your throat with kisses. You whined out in pleasure, your hips bucking up with every love bite he delivered, your body was aching in need for more.

"Tae. P-please more. G-give me m-more." You keened in between pants of air.

Your hips now undulated in tiny circles as Taehyung trailed his kisses down your neck, to your breast. He sucked and bit the soft skin around your nipple lightly. Soon his tongue gently wrapped around your nipple, sucking it into his warm mouth, while his hand teased the other breast, kneading and pinching your nipple. Your moans were increasing in volume, at his assault.

Your legs widened on their own accord, making more room for Taehyung. Your pussy was weeping profusely. The boy shorts you were wearing were thoroughly drenched, and with each movement of your hips, your arousal perfumed the air. Releasing your nipple, he continued his way down your chest, moving his lips across your stomach. Down, down he goes until he's kissing you down to where your torso joins your pelvis. He trained his eyes on you, eager to see your reaction as he pulled your boy shorts off from your body with a wet smack.

"Tell me what you want love. Use your big girl voice for me." Taehyung cooed in a provoking tone. You would have told him to fuck off if it wasn't for his mouth hovering right over your clenching core, his hot breath attacking your pussy lips.

"Cat got your tongue? You sure did have a lot of things to say earlier." Taehyung teased once more. You moaned with each word he said, your hips thrusting upwards, hoping to find his mouth.

"Please! Just touch my pussy, lick it, do something! Stop teasing me!" You urged, bringing your hands up to stimulate your breast, you didn't know how much more teasing you could take. You could feel your essence seeping between your ass cheeks and coating the bed. The dull ache in your stomach was intensifying, and he had barely touched you.

"Mmm, well since you begged nicely." Taehyung replied, wasting no time in attacking your pussy. His broad tongue licked wide strips up against your pussy. Splitting your lips with the appendage with each pass to dip his tongue into your pulsating hole. Your hands found his soft brown hair as your back arched off the bed, pushing your cunt deeper into his face.

"Y-yeahfuck! Like that it's so good!" You whined slurring your words.

Taehyung shifted his probing muscle's attention to your clit, attacking it with kitten licks. You shouted loudly, as your thighs were beginning to shake. The coil in your stomach tightening almost painfully. He wrapped his strong arms around your thighs, your knees were hitched higher up almost touching your chest in this position.

But this way, he had much more leverage to devour you. The comforter on his bed bunching uncomfortably beneath your ass but at this moment you gave zero fucks. Taehyung had total control now, showing no remorse as your upper body thrashed about on the bed. Your hands were no longer able to reach his hair, so you opted for your own instead, pulling harshly on your roots.

"Fuck, Taehyung!" You wailed shrilly. Taehyung chuckled at the sounds you were making, remembering your words from earlier he couldn't wait to hear what you sounded like taking his dick.

He then rubbed two thick fingers in the abundance of fluids that your pussy was producing and gently eased them into your tight core.

"Not only is baby girl surprisingly noisy, but she's also pretty tight too." You clenched even more around his fingers, your wall throbbing wildly around them.  

"I can't wait to feel you around my dick." Taehyung moaned sucking your clit into his mouth, delivering hard sucks as his fingers pumped into you at a moderate speed. Sadly, the introduction of his fingers was your undoing. You couldn't help as your legs stuck straight in the air. Body arching off the bed and bowed forward as your orgasm hit you like a freight train knocking the wind from your lungs.

Your eyes were shut tightly, and your mouth hung open in a silent scream as your body convulsed from the intensity of your orgasm. Taehyung had a hard time holding you down but continued his assault on your creaming pussy. He slurped as much of your cream as he could, absolutely addicted to the way you tasted.

"T-Tae, stop-p." You called out to him pathetically. Your intense orgasm had passed, but he was still thrusting shallowly inside your tight core, lapping at your clit. The oversensitivity was becoming too much, as you struggled to wiggle away from him. Taehyung withdrew his fingers and ceased his licking with one last kiss on your clit, making you flinch at the contact.

Taehyung beheld your fucked out appearance with pride. Your legs splayed open, displaying your spasming cunt. The way your chest was swiftly rising and falling as you struggled to catch your breath. Your hair stood up in every direction from your previous pulling, body trembling with aftershocks, and all he did was eat you out and finger you.

"Wow." You mumbled your eyes closing, sleep trying to claim you.

"Oh, nonono. I'm not done with you yet." Taehyung proclaimed, flipping you onto your stomach. He had to admit he was the hardest he had ever been in his life. His pants were now unbearably tight, and a wet spot at the crotch of his pants started to become visible. Taehyung tugged the offending material off hissing as his massive erection made contact with the air, free from being confined. You lifted yourself with jelly arms onto your knees, wanting to see what the commotion was behind you.

You choked on your spit for the second time today, as your eyes made contact with the angry red monster Taehyung called his cock. Not only was he unbelievably thick; a little bigger than your wrist, but he was also long. In his hands was the living definition of a third leg. He was crazy if he actually thought that would fit inside of you?

"Fuck that shit!" You cursed trying to scramble to the headboard of the bed, but Taehyung halted your escape, grabbing your ankles and yanking you back.

He would have laughed at your reaction, but he was too turned on, there was so much blood rushing to his cock he felt lightheaded. He wasted no time in putting you back in your previous position. Pulling your ass up so that it was sticking in the air and your torso was lying flat on the bed, his hands gripping your hips hard enough to bruise.

"Tae! Wait...you can't be serious!" You tried pleading with him terrified that thing he called his dick was going to tear you apart.

"Not so little am I baby?" He snickered

Don't worry, you can take it I'll go slow." Taehyung groaned his voice strained, his arousal was beginning to take a toll on him. Taehyung grabbed his shaft and brought the bulbous tip of his cock to rub against your clit. You mewled with pleasure, his tip was hot and the pre-come he was leaking added to the sensation of relaxing and reigniting your body.

Taehyung continued to stroke his tip along your clit thoroughly coating it with your thick fluids. He placed the thick head at your entrance, your juices helping him to slide in. He watched in amazement as your leftover cum gather around the head of his cock in a coating out creamy white. Your body tensed up at the massive intrusion, your cunt pulsated wildly around him, drawing a deep groan from his throat.

"Baby relax, you're squeezing so tight." Taehyung moaned out affected by your spasming core. He reached his hand underneath your body and strummed at your clit once again, coxing you to relax.

Taehyung took your distraction as his cue to shove the offending length inside your prone pussy. You squealed at the sudden fullness and intense burning. Bucking your hips, trying to dislodge him. It was too much to take, especially at this position. Your pussy was going to rip in half.

"B-bi-iig-g. To-o mu-ch." You whined out stuttering horribly.

Taehyung gripped your hips harder to stop your fitful twisting and bucking. He felt as though he was about to explode you were so damn tight and wet, your bucking didn't help his case any either. He didn't wait this long to finish early. He refused to be a one pump chump. Taehyung reached his hand back underneath your body to locate your clit, rubbing it in firm tight circles, to help relax you, and sure enough; like magic, after you adjusted to his massive size, your body was suddenly filled with mind-numbing pleasure. Your whimpers turned into loud groans as you threw your hips back onto Taehyung, giving him the okay to start moving.

"Hell yeah. That's it, baby girl work this tight little cunt on my cock." He grunts before he withdrew his length and slammed back in, his dick splitting your sensitive walls, hitting every spot inside your clenching cunt. His strokes were fast, broad, and powerful, never had you felt so full in your life. Your mouth was gaped open, as shrieks of pleasure fell from your jaws, drool dripped from your lips, and dots blurred your vision. You could feel him in your guts, branding himself inside you. The coil in your stomach was quickly tightening, ready to release what was no doubt, going to be the most intense orgasm your body was about to experience. Taehyung could feel your core tightening up further, your tight little pussy was far better than he could have expected, he wanted to punch himself for waiting this long to indulge in you.

"You're taking this big cock so well, baby. Such a good girl." Taehyung growled.

"But I have a secret to tell you." You shivered as he stopped mid-stroke. You felt the warmth and damp skin of his torso drape over your back. Like pudding in his hands. You didn't even flinch as he brought his large callused hands up through the part in your breast to wrap around your throat.

Ever so slightly he squeezed the sides of your neck, you felt him throb in your stomach as you clenched even tighter around him at the action. Slowly he lifted your head up with his hand still on your neck. Again he squeezed. Bringing his lips down to your ear, he said, "Would you believe me if I said you're only taking half of me in."

The way your jaw dropped and your eyes bugged out of your head would have been comical. If you weren't genuinely terrified, that is.

"O-nly half! That's impossible I swear your touch my small intestine already." You tried to look back to see if he was lying or not, but he tightened his hold on your neck, forcing your head back to look up at him. Your body was now bowed in an almost perfect 'C' shape. You felt his other hand snake around your abdomen and press on the bulge that was his cock poking through your stomach. Again he throbbed in excitement.

"You were talking such a big game earlier baby girl, what happened? Surely you could all of a dick that's as little as mine. Right?" Taehyung scolded in your ear.

Little by little, he began pulling you more on his cock by your neck. And fuck he really wasn't lying he really had more length to feed your cunt.

"Ta-ae, pleaseplease n-o more-e, I can't take it m-my stomach hurts." You whined

"Hmm? But you're so close to taking all of me in. Just a few more inches, and I'll be all in." He responded.

Not wasting any more time he released your neck, and before you could fall down to the bed. He locked his fingers in your hair and firmly yanked, lifting you off the mattress, and into his arms, allowing himself the rest of the way in.

You screamed out as his hips met your ass with a wet smack. The increase in pressure coupled with the new position broke the levee to your release. You trembled uncontrollably as your orgasm started from your toes. Quickly spreading to your arms and head before finally spreading throughout your whole body, you were rendered speechless as your orgasm claimed you. Your eyes rolled to the back of your head, as a burst of white light flashed behind your eyes, incoherent sounds of what was supposed to be Taehyung's name filled the space around you.

Through it all Taehyung continued to fuck into you almost violently, allowing your cores convulsions to wash over him. His body dripped with sweat as he briefly picked up his speed, his hips beginning to stutter. He held your thrashing body close to his as delivered his last couple of thrusts before moaning loudly and exploding his hot seed inside of your wrecked cunt.

You both fell breathlessly on the mattress, sweat polishing your skin, exhaustion quickly making its way to claim you. Taehyung pulled slowly out of your battered and swollen pussy. On wobbly legs, walked to the restroom to get a washcloth to clean the mess that was between your thighs. You moaned at the textured touch of the cloth and the dampness of it soothing the hot burn from your pussy.

Your whole body was numb, and you were utterly worn out, so much so, that when Taehyung pulled you into his arms, you didn't even argue.

In the morning you will definitely be having a word with him. But for now, you let his racing heartbeat lull you to some much-needed sleep.

[stormblessed95]

So i really enjoyed your post about Namjoon being a leader and sometimes monitoring jikook. I wanted to say that I love how you are always so respectful and choose your words wisely and also never accuse the members of anything whenever you 'speculate' about things that we don’t know for sure! I have another ask about that topic. So you Said that jikook were especially monitored around 2016 to 2018 and afterwards not so much anymore. I have heard of that narrative before but I‘ve never seen good examples for that. Sorry if you talked about it before, maybe you’ll find the time to give examples where Namjoon seemed to monitor jikook. I would love to hear your overall opinion about why and how you feel his way of dealing with jikook changed over time. ☺️

Aww thank you Anon. I really do respect and love all 7 members soooo much. They all mean so much to me! Even though i believe KM are probably a couple, I do want to make sure I stay as respectful as possible. And I'm always willing to accept different opinions about things and be corrected if my facts are wrong!

Lmao, well I can try to find some! There are also great funny compilation videos out there you can find on YouTube (beware analysis videos, don't watch those. Just the funny ones. WonSummerNight has a few I believe that are good and wholesome). For me, some of the Namjoon stopping Jikook from Jikooking moments:

In 2015 when Jimin says that for his birthday, he will give Jungkook kisses while they were on a live stream. 😂 Namjoon's face is priceless. And he very quickly speaks over Jimin and says "OH 50 white shirts!!!! Okay!!!" Very very loudly. (50 white shirts sounded similar to the phrase Jimin used as well. Didn't work RM but nice try).

Or this one when Jikook were being overly flirty and talking about spoilers for their new comeback stage. Namjoon interupted JK to tell him to go ahead and share what he wanted to share as he and Jimin were giggling over whatever they were giggling about. I don't know what was so funny either Joon. He looked more amused and endeared by them this time though. So cute

During an official interview, Jikook start staring and instead of telling US they are ALL doing something together, they start Whispering together to EACH other with all the heart eyes. Lol Namjoon quickly redirects their attention back to the camera and the embarrassed giggles after lol so cute

These one was in 2019, but to be fair to Joonie, they were Wilding during this tour. Lol Jikook start playing footsie on stage and Namjoon immediately goes to stand between them.

Making sure they are standing in their official line order even though Jikook continually gravitate towards each other after performances

Taking over Jungkook's half of Jimin's heart. Lol I think this one was more that he also just wanted to be included but still, it's funny

Jungkook goofing off and showing his paddle thing to Jimin and RM literally tapping him and telling him to stop and pay attention during Armypedia

One of my favorites is during a concert, Jikook are walking towards each other, and before anything even happens, Namjoon had sprinted to come to a standstill right in between them. Lmao I can't find that gif now but it was amazing. Im sure it'll be in a compilation somewhere. Save Namjoon. He needs help and maybe a bubble bath or something. Being the leader is hard.

There are a bunch of different examples, videos, Twitter threads out there. These are just the ones I could think of and find super quick! And again, it's all in good fun and Namjoon isn't doing anything wrong here either. It's just funny to see sometimes.

[dreamhot]

no but at this point im convinced that the people still spreading the misinformation around are doing it on purpose and they just want some kind of fucked up sense of moral superiority over his fans when explaining why they dont like him/why theyre in the right for belittling someone for their interests. like i genuinely cannot wrap my head around the idea of someone who claims they care about "holding people accountable" when they cant even be bothered to do the basic research into whatever they heard. especially when theres multiple people telling them that what they heard is misinformation. there will be people explaining how whatever they heard is wrong with proof but then theyll just flat out ignore it and argue that no, you must be the one thats wrong instead, youre just making things up. then theres the fact they completely ignore the fact that when he does mess up, he apologizes and doesnt do it again. like what do you even want at that point???? refusing to look at actual evidence and any sign of growth just proves they dont actually care if dreams a bigot or whatever the fuck else theyre accusing him of, they just want someone to harass. sorry if this is kinda incoherent, im getting incredibly frustrated and have many thoughts on his antis :/

it's indicative of a wider issue on the internet these days, something i've seen plenty in fandom spaces and now more often with famous figures - namely that people can't dislike something without ascribing moral reasoning to their feelings. plenty of people have talked about this and in more eloquent words than me, but suffice to say that people would be happier if they went back to simply not enjoying something for their own personal reasons rather than making it into a performative hate brigade. and as you pointed out, moral superiority has social capital in certain spaces on social media. callout threads are an easy way to get engagement and they're quick to pick up traction, whether the attention is negative or positive. it wouldn't be as much of an issue if people would see the callouts and do their research in order to form their own opinions, but i fear many people take these statements at face value and proceed to parrot them without thinking, hence the propagation. it's sad and pathetic but regrettably common

[barnesandrogersfanfics]

Ocean Eyes - Part 12

A/N - Finally an update!! i promise to not leave it as long for the next part.

Please like/comment/reblog, it gives me incentive to write quicker if i know people are actually enjoying my madness 💕

"You okay?" Chris asked suddenly making me jump, i thought he was asleep! He was currently wrapped around me acting as the big spoon.

"Jesus christ! You scared the crap outta me!" I chuckled quietly feeling stupid that he made me jump so bad.

"Sorry dahlin" he chuckled close to my ear "but are you okay?".

"Yeah just can't sleep, I've got so much going through my head i can't switch off"

"Its not because you're in here with me is it?"

"No of course not, this is actually just what i needed. I've missed laying in your arms...." I had caved and agreed to stay in Chris's room tonight, no funny business just sleeping. I felt Chris smile before pressing a kiss to my neck.

"I've missed this too. So what exactly is it keeping you awake beautiful? Talk to me..."

"Honestly? The whole thing with Brian.... how did he find me here??".

"I have no idea, but its very creepy!.... then again we shouldn't really be surprised, he had a habit of always knowing where you were. I got bad vibes off that guy the second i saw him".

We had called the police to report Brian but they couldn't do much about it as he technically hadn't done anything wrong, they said to call them again if we saw him around anymore.

"I don't understand why he's doing this! Its not like i led him on or anything, I've never shown that man any interest. I barely even talk to the guy!"

"He's clearly unstable"

"It scares me Chris...."

"Hey, i won't let him hurt you.... i already warned him to stay away...." Chris said through gritted teeth.

"What?...."

"It doesn't matter...."

I turned in his arms so i was now facing him "yes it does, what do you mean you warned him to stay away?"

"The day Scott and I came to get you and Mason to bring you here, you remember how he kept going on about where you were going and when you were coming back....then he asked you to dinner?"

"Oh yeah, you kinda snapped"

"Yeah.....I told him nicely to stay away from my family, that you were unavailable and uninterested.... that he should move on. I said if i found out he was harassing you still id make his life hell" he looked a little sheepish as he confessed to what had been said between the two of them.

"Well I'm guessing he didn't like to be told to stay away huh?"

"Apparently not. But lets not worry about  him right now, you need to sleep"

"Ive been trying...."

"Come here" Chris said and rolled onto his back pulling me close until i was laying with my head on his chest, his hand stroking up and down my back. Back strokes were my weakness and he knew it! "You'll be asleep in no time" he mumbled pressing a kiss to the top of my head. And he was right, with the steady thumping of his heart and his fingers stroking my back i was a goner.

I woke up alone, the bed already cold meaning Chris had been gone for a while. I reached for my phone on the bedside cabinet, it was nearly 10am!! I quickly got up and headed to the bathroom to pee and check how bad i looked. Once i was done i headed downstairs to find Chris, Mason and Scott.

"Hey" Chris smiled at me as i entered the kitchen, he was sat at the dining room table in front of his laptop.

"Hey, why didn't you wake me up?"

"You looked too peaceful, besides you didn't get to sleep til late"

I nodded walking over to kiss him "thank you" i smiled running my hand over his bearded jaw "you're the best".

Chris pulled me down into his lap and deepened the kiss until i had to pull back enough to catch my breath and we both laughed.

"Where's Mason?"

"Walking Dodger with Scott, i gave him breakfast and helped him get dressed before they left"

"He wasn't any trouble was he?"

"Not at all. He's like the best behaved kid I've ever met"

"He has his moments don't be fooled" i chuckled thinking back to some tantrums id witnessed over the years.

"I don't believe you, that kid is an angel"

"You just wait and see Evans" i laughed before getting up and walking into the kitchen so i could get a coffee and some toast.

"So um, I've got to do an online interview tonight with Jimmy Fallon" Chris followed me into the kitchen.

"Okay" i nodded.

"I just thought id let you know i'll have to disappear for a while"

"Thats fine, Mason will probably be in bed by then and i'll just stay in the living room watching a movie with Scott"

"Now i feel left out" he pouted.

Later that day we all went outback and played some Wiffle Ball to pass the time, Chris and Scott getting competitive again.

"Mom I'm tired" Mason said wrapping his arms around my waist and cuddling up against me.

"You wanna go take a nap before dinner buddy?"

"Yeah"

"Come on then" i picked him up and he rested his head on my shoulder "guys Mason needs a nap, i think you've worn him out"

"I think i need a nap too!" Scott laughed.

"Well I'm gonna make a start on dinner, you have time for a nap if you wanna"

Walking back up to the house i started struggling with Mason, he was getting too big for me to carry around now! My baby was growing up too fast!

"You want me to take him?" Chris suddenly asked, i nodded and come to a stop before passing a sleeping Mason over to Chris.

"Thanks, he's getting heavy" i said sadly.

"No problem"

"I hate that he's getting too big for me to carry him when he's tired"

"I know but its okay, I'm here to help now"

"Who's gonna carry me? Im exhausted!" Scott added making us laugh quietly so we didn't wake Mason.

The evening flew by, we all had dinner then sat and watched Toy Story with Mason. When it came to bedtime Mason insisted that Chris read him a story and of course he couldn't say no. Once he was asleep Chris headed to his office to get ready for his interview while Scott and I headed to the living room to find a movie to watch.

"Sooooo....." Scott said dragging it out to sound scandalous as he wiggled his eyebrows at me.

"What?"

"What?.... don't you what me Missy! I know you spent the night with Chris! So come on spill the tea sister!"

"You're ridiculous you know that?" I rolled my eyes at him and laughed at how comical he looked right now.

"Like i care" he shrugged "come on! Tell me what happened"

"Sorry to disappoint but nothing happened we just slept"

"Are you serious?"

"Yeah, we're taking things slow"

"And who's decision was that?"

"We both said we don't wanna rush it"

"But you suggested it right?..... hey I'm not judging you for that" he quickly added when he saw me look away sadly.

"You're scared you're gonna get hurt again aren't you?"

"Wouldn't you be? I just wanna make sure we're gonna be okay, that its more than just sex. We were always good at that, the emotional stuff.... not so much"

We were halfway through the movie when Chris rushed in asking Scott to join him for a game that Jimmy Fallon wanted them to do.

"Really? I can't just leave Y/N on her own....."

"Go i'll be fine" i chuckled.

"Sorry dahlin, i hate leaving you on your own.... we wont be long though 15/20 minutes tops.

"Go do what you gotta do, I'm fine here watching this" i nodded to the TV.

While they were off doing the interview

I texted my mom and Hannah to check in, they were doing good all things considered. I quickly settled back in to watch the rest of the movie but was interrupted again by multiple message alerts on my phone. I looked to see it was Hannah blowing up my phone.

When i opened the thread i gasped, my heart was racing so fast.... i felt sick as my eyes landed on one thing in particular....... the headline!

"CHRIS EVANS HAS A SECRET FAMILY!"

Everything taglist: @jesseswartzwelder @dumblani @barnesandrogersworld @patzammit @rynabarnesrogers-reading @rainbowkisses31 @rororo06 @supernaturalwintersoldier @fairlightswiftly @hiddelstannerbarnes @bellamy-barnes @buchanansebba @rosalynshields

Ocean eyes: @supraveng @michelehansel @melissaglenn5 @denisemarieangelina

@mrsjeffwittek @mery-be @marvelfansworld @cmalass @capstopavenger @fallenoutofrose @kelbabyblue @biebsmylife95 @loser-alert @traceyaudette @w3lissax @jennmurawski13 @ford66steal @saiyanprincessswanie @christocrave @jakiki94 @torntaltos @my-dearest-agent @ms-betsy-fangirl

If your name is crossed out i couldnt tag you.