#i hate you hope pollock whY DO YOU WANT ANOTHER BABY?!

[duusheen]

Phoenix’s latest hobby is equestrianism, so (of course) Sterling bought him his own horse and is paying for some (very expensive) lessons every afternoon after school. Meanwhile, Hope took a test that came back negative, and even though she told Sterling it didn’t matter, part of her couldn’t stop thinking about the “what if"

[meridia002-lorddiavolosconcubine]

Dizzump in the Devildom

WARNING: FECES/DEFECATION, NSFW (NO SEX, BUT UTTERLY DISGUSTING), MERIDIA HAS AN ACCIDENT

Let this be the first entry in the Devildom Diary.

My first day in the Devildom was a total ASS DISASTER. Literally. Imagine finding yourself in an unfamiliar world that lacked amenities as basic as toilets. I was horrified and embarrassed when it came time to take my first dizzump in the Devildom. On that first evening I grabbed my demon boyfriend, Mammon, and pinned him against a dark corner to ask him where the toilet was.

“A toy what?” Mammon asked as he characteristically threw up his hands in confusion.

I dumbfoundedly watched him shake his head at me as waves of impeccable white hair grazed his forehead. Why humiliate myself by explaining the concept of human defecation to this shiny, smooth entity? I waved off my question as an exhaustion-induced brain fart and  decided that it was best for me to search for a place to poop that night.

Why doesn't Hell have toilets? I searched the Internet for “demon boy anatomy,” and what I discovered didn’t comfort me. According to AkuWikia, demons lack functional buttholes. Their pink starfishes are only for anal sex and were never an original part of their evolution. The wiki article said the first king of the Devildom spent centuries watching humans procreate and fuck. He saw anal sex as unique and wanted demons to be able to do it. From that day onward, the demon king cast a spell on all his subjects that drilled perfect puckered holes in their anuses. The article made no mention of human defecation.

So there I was, my struggles to contain the doo doo within my donut hole failing me. Touching cloth is what humans call it when you’re desperately trying to keep the turtle’s head in its shell. Prairie dogging. You get it. I bemoaned my choice to wear tight-ass pants. I clenched my cheeks, my hands pushing them together to stall Mr. Hanky for as long as I could. I waddled sideways in the hallway like I had something up my ass. After all, I did.. it was threatening to break free. Why did I have to eat that burrito baby last night? Shit!

Stiffly shuffling against the wall, I opened the bathroom door. No toilets, but a pretty big bathtub. big enough to squat and drop deuce in the drain.

No! Shaking that thought from my mind, I continued searching every closet and room I had access to. Buckets? No. Where would I dump it? Asmo’s underwear drawer? Maybe. Ugh. Behind the bookshelves in the living room? Possibly. Let’s keep that as the number two choice.

I paused mid step in the hallway as my rectum clenched up in painful spasms. You know when the the shit starts coming down the pipe a bit more and holding it in causes painful cramps? That’s a sign you needed to find a toilet yesterday.

Time was running out as I was growing a monkey tail in my underwear. I needed to paint the Oval Office soon. Do I go in the bathtub and try to wash it down the drain? It seemed like the most private option. At this point, I could go outside for all the little D’s to see. What if Caveman Solo spied me dropping anchor in the grass like a dog? He’d probably like that.

I shivered at the thought of that shady fuckboi watching me shooting torpedoes on the side of the House of Lamentation. Why? Why didn’t they prepare this one little detail? Would it hurt these perfect, poopless men to install toilets for the one disgusting poop human?

My ass cheeks squeezed to the maximum when the final cramp hit me with a rumbling so loud it could’ve been Beelzebeef’s stomach. My cheeks gave out, and I went right in the seat of my pants. Staying in the bathroom, I locked the golden doorknob behind me. I dropped my pants, sticky brown separating from the cotton of my dollar store underwear. I glared at the brown curl in the seat of my panties with disgust. "I hate you," I whispered with all my vitriol.

I threw my clothing into a sagging, sad pile in the corner. I stood buck naked with my legs obscenely wide over the drain, squatting as much as my shortened Achilles’ tendons allowed. I inhaled and exhaled slowly to relax my sphincter. Warm ropes slid through my rectum like a monorail. I waited until I heard the soft plop in the drain. Sighing, I was about to stand up when another bout of the shits hit me, and this time it wasn’t as neat as the turd I just birthed. Before I could gather myself and clean my mess, a second violent episode of the shits gripped me. At this point, I was already half standing and no longer perfectly aiming over the drain. A typhoon of liquid ass viciously blasted the white tiles.

I panicked, and the more anxious I got, the worse the diarrhea became. I decided to accept the situation and let it all out.

“It will all be over with soon,” I said out loud. “And then I can clean it.”

With that being said, I pushed like a mother in labor. Pressure built inside my belly and travelled down to my colon until it exited my body in mere seconds. I became lost in the moment. I don’t know how much time passed, but it felt like the best time of life. Being so far gone in my poophoria, a moan escaped my mouth. Oh, the relief I felt in my guts! For hours I had held it inside me until the feces seemed to be sentient. It came out on its own.

My sweet moment was disrupted by a knocking at the door.

“Oi! Meridia!” Knock! Knock! “What’s going on in there? The smell is awful, and I gotta take a piss!”

Oh, fuck! Mammon’s timing couldn’t have been worse! Fuckfuckfuckfuck. I had to squeeze my cheeks together to restrain in the rest of the shitstorm while I looked around for paper towels. What was I supposed to say?

“Uh ... J-just a minute! Just taking an extra long bath!” My voice faltered.

“I gotta pee, so I’m comin’ in,” he answered. “It shouldn’t interrupt your bath!”

Goddammit!

Before I could stop him, Mammon turned the doorknob. The gold knob turned slowly, the door opened the slowest I’ve ever seen a door open. It creaked and squeaked ever so loudly, and I feared it would attract more attention. My stomach dropped again resulting in a tiny spurt of brown goo. White hair and brown skin poked through the door. First his head came through the crack like a little prairie dog. Then the crack opened wider as a RAD uniform appeared. The hands that were on the demon’s hips flew up to his nose as he gagged.

“Ack! What is that sme—” My boyfriend stopped talking as he stared at the Pollock-esque brown masterpiece I made all over the tiles.

“Meridia! What’s that comin’ outta your ass?!” He screamed.

My legs quaked with each spasm of shit I held back. It was useless. My cheeks jiggled with one final effort as a downpour of liquid brown splattered the tiles below me. Mammon was panicking, and I needed to explain this before he called his brothers for an emergency.

“Please calm down!” I begged. “I’m pooping!” My arms waved around agitatedly as I attempted to explain defecation to his confused face. “It’s a human thing. Please, just help me clean this fucking mess!”

Mammon seemed even more confused and distressed. His arms flailed all over the place in confusion. 

“What does this even mean?” His voice cracked out. “Does your shit need to ... go back inside ya ass?!” 

What? Oh, god no. I hope he doesn’t try that!

“No! Just, please don’t call attention to this!” I hissed. “I need you to bring me towels so I can clean this mess up.”

I hoped I could get through to him, because he gazed with a half-mile stare at my brown splattered masterpiece on the walls. 

“Mammon!” I snapped him out of his shock. “Get. Me. Towels!” 

“Yeah, yeah. Sure, thing.” 

Poor little guy. He sounded ill. It wasn’t long before the white-haired tsundere came back with a bunch of white towels. I palmed my face.

“White towels? Human excrement will stain those so much!” I said.

He shrugged. “I guess we’re gonna have brown towels at the end of the night.”

Taking one from the stack to wrap around my body, I was able to set about frantically mopping my midnight regret off the walls and floor. Maybe the most difficult part was scooping my mess out of the bathtub drain. I turned to Mammon and was immediately floored by the sight of the demon with his jacket off, sleeves rolled up, and shirt unbuttoned. Suddenly, for the first time in my life, I think I was freakishly turned on by the smell of shit. His body odor combined with the scent of fecal lasagna twisted something primal inside of my core. I looked down at my hand, remember that I was squeezing an ice cream scoop sized clump of doodoo in my hand. I shook my head to snap out of my arousal before my thoughts went somewhere taboo. 

I hurled the crap clog inside a garbage bag, which reminded me of the lack of a toilet. 

“So, we need to talk to Lucifer rather discreetly about installing a toilet in the house,” I reminded Mammon. “On second thought, let’s just see if Diavolo can put toilets everywhere.”

Mammon shook his head. “Why didn’t ya just say something earlier, human?” he said. “When you asked me about the toilet earlier, ya coulda just explained it to me. I think I heard something about Diavolo having putting those in RAD just for the human students.” 

I froze. “You ... What?!”

He gulped. “Uhh, yeah. How’d ya think Solomon shits?” 

My body began to shake in anger. “I hadn’t thought about it.”

He stopped when my emotions started to show. “Hey, now. I’m sorry. It just slipped our minds.” 

My jaw tensed as vengeful ideas played through my shit-addled brain. Leaning over the tub, I eyed the drain deviously as a new set of spasms wrapped my bowels in their grasp. 

“Mammon,” I eyed him sideways. “We’ve cleaned enough in here, and I need to bathe.” 

He stopped scrubbing to wipe sweat off his sexy forehead. “If ya say so. Call me if ya need me human.” 

Before he left, we made out like teenagers, my soiled hand leaving smudges in his clean, white hair.

When I was finally alone, I dropped my fluffy white, brown smudged towel on the clean tiles. Stepping inside the shower, I marveled at the freshly cleaned tub. Sad I would have to soil it again. 

Once more positioning my legs vulgarly wide over the drain, I unleashed everything. No holding back.

[unimpressedperson]

Sunflowers

(Found this picture on Twitter and it’s so gorgeous)

Genre: Fluff, Angst

Warnings: Mentions of drugs

Pairing: Kim Taehyung x @ohmydearmoonchild , Kim Taehyung x Reader

Word Counting: 3.4k

Synopsis: After celebrating their second anniversary, Taehyung decided to prove how grateful he felt for Diyaa’s help on his recover from drug addiction and profound hopelessness towards life.

A/N: Hey I’m here and the oneshot is finally finished! Thank you for inspiring me to write it down, ‘cuz it felt amazing to put into words a few feelings and I really hope you enjoy it, baby :) Wish I could play any instruments, so the “song” Taehyung wrote for Diyaa during the story would come true, but for now it’s just a short poem. Sorry :/ 

P: S The Mark mentioned during the story isn’t Mark Tuan from GOT7, it’s a made up character and you can imagine him like you want, and think would possibly attract Yoongi.

- x - x - x - x -

Diyaa felt the rays of sunlight warming her face, every detail bathing under the waves of heat, bearable and delicious, caressing her skin like kisses. Still with closed eyes, she grope the bedsheets, looking for some human contact, specifically with Taehyung. Fingers trailing the silk fabric, blindly and allowing only touch guide her senses, finding its path and reaching for his long digits.

Laying on her back, covered with a navy-blue blanket and still listening to every single words said emotionally the afternoon before. Diyaa was stuck to them, all she could think about. Passionately contemplating how long it would last. The feelings, the touches, the promises. Hopefully forever.

Slowly and lazily opening her eyes, Diyaa took her time to get used to the bright morning lights. Still sleepy and intertwining pinkies with Taehyung, she stared at him, sleeping on his stomach peacefully by her side, while Diyaa couldn't help but watch passionately his exposed back going slightly up and down, calmly inhaling and exhaling.

Everything about Kim Taehyung seemed ethereal, way too perfect to be considered human. From his soft dark brown hair, to his breathing movements while sleeping. Diyaa always pointed out how lucky she felt for having him, looking up to encounter a flustered Tae with rosy cheeks and a timid smirk.

— I'm the lucky one in this relationship, sweetcheeks. - Tae always said, caressing her face dutifully with one hand, while the other one found its way to Diyaa's, intertwining pinkies.

The connection between them was strong, deep, soulmates. Her peaceful personality mixed with how chaotic he was. Yin and Yang. Balancing each other. Diyaa never felt something so profound or good, same for Taehyung, who was used to fake relationships, friendships, partnerships, a plastic world which he was tired of, willing to give up in exchange of some truthfull love and caring. Luckily, the man found honesty without leaving behind everything he battled for.

Taehyung was desperate and lonely, surrounded by bodies, but lacking souls. Filling the void with alcohol and overwork, sometimes mixing both of them and dragging Namjoon back to his old habits: late night studio sessions, hosed by cold vodka and lime slices. Some masterpieces were resulted, but no one involved felt happy.

At some point, getting drunk got trite and Tae bought stronger drugs, such as cocaine. With a thin package of powder disguised as salt on his wallet, Taehyung was feeling the pity results of a night spent on studio with Namjoon and Yoongi (who almost caught him taking a sniff). Under the hangover effects, he questioned his life choices, thinking about what would Hyung possibly do after getting him red handed. Everyone close to Suga knew he had problems with coke, only sobering up after his boyfriend, Mark, found him in a puddle of vomit, almost overdosing. Even drinking a few shots from time to time, Yoongi hated the idea of seeing someone he cared about going down the same alley.

The brown-haired man decided to get some coffee and buy new books, tired of reading the ones he had at home. At the bookstore, Taehyung grabbed a random work from Dan Brown and got in line for paying. Still hiding behind his sunglasses, he looked up and saw possibly the prettiest girl alive, dressed in a black mid-lenght sleeved shirt and a yellow apron. He felt his heart skip a beat noticing that on Diyaa's (as written on her tag) wrist was painted a sunflower, Van Gogh style.

— Fuck. I'm going to buy books here more often. - Taehyung spoke out loud, meaning to only say it to himself. The girl in front of him blushed and smirked.

He obsessed over Diyaa for over three weeks, before actually finding courage enough to ask her out. The day he finally did it, Namjoon was there to pick up his copy of "It" and a few magazines to leave on the dorm's bathrooms, also guaranteeing Taehyung wouldn't chicken out on the last minute.

Diyaa acknowledged who he was and would recognize his godlike face from kilometers afar, but never considered the idea of meeting him in person, nevermind attracting him and being asked out. At first, the girl thought everything was just a dream and even pinched her own thigh to make sure, feeling a sting and realizing that it was actually happening and Kim Namjoon was also there, holding a bunch of random magazines (literally, one of them was about motorcycle gears and raising cows).

Their first date was on a coffee shop, Diyaa didn't mention she only drank iced-coffee and Tae paid for two expressos, and a few almond cookies he claimed to taste like heaven on a plate. In fact, the biscuits were amazing. While leaving the place, after spending three hours laughing and chatting, the girl confessed that she hated coffee and a very guilty Taehyung bought her frozen yogurt with a no number of toppings. Staring at her cheeks full of brownies and strawberries, the man felt his heart melt a little.

Two years later, plenty of fights over Taehyung's addictions and bad habits, now Diyaa was helping him remain clean and sober, sometimes loosening up so he could drink wine on Christmas special to VLive, nothing stronger than champagne was their deal.

Mark and Yoongi also helped with Tae, since they went through something similar at the beginning of their relationship. Suga felt overwhelmed when Diyaa and Taehyung told what was happening, and getting his handsome and talented friend back on track became a teamwork. After coming out with his addiction, Tae became the fulltime maknae, being watched closely by even Jungkook, who was with him after relapsing for the first time and helped out when detoxing started all over again.

Now fully awake, Diyaa rolled on the bed to place her chin against Tae’s shoulder blade, hearing a growl coming down from his throat, still asleep, the man moved slightly and speaking in a low, raspy voice asking her to lift up the face so he could turn around and lay on his back.

He was still asleep, swollen eyes and mouth, not quite ready to stand up and face another toil afternoon and late night practice, wishing to stay right where they were, enjoying Diyaa’s second day off and just making out, or watching a movie, without giving more than 500 steps during the next 24 hours. Where there's a will, there's no way, so before the couple could possibly think of pretending to be sick, Hoseok knocked on the door, crooning on a rather pitch voice.

— Wake up lovey doves. I mean, Taehyung, Didi can keep on sleeping, she is off while he has a whole day of workiiiing. - After finishing the lyrics and high-note, the song continued with a whistling that wouldn’t quit before Tae opened the door and saw a fully dressed Jung Hoseok, with his uglyass Balenciaga shoes, skinny jeans and white t-shirt.

— You’re annoying and I’m going to toss your shoes right in the middle of the nearest river. - Tae said and closed the door, going back to bed, holding Diyaa on a tight hug, leaving smooches all over her face. - I know you hate my morning bad-breathe, but I love you. Good morning sweetcheeks.

— Go brush your teeth, you pig! - Diyaa joked, while caressing his chest and allowed herself to feel his soft, swollen and moisturized lips cover her face in light kisses. Yeah, she hated his morning bad-breathe, but also adored Tae. - I love you too, honeybuns.

— Come on baby, honeybuns? Why horse names? I swear that if at some point you end up calling me Buttercup or Chestnut, I’m going call a quit to this relationship. - Tae said staring her deadly serious, but leaving a perverse grin take over his gorgeous features.

They stayed there, kissing and discussing better nicknames, when Jungkook opened the door without any warning, staring at Taehyung and saying, before looking back to his cellphone, where he got into a very critic situation on the Battle Royale match.

— Morning hyung. Morning Diyaa. Jin said that if you don’t stand up and get ready, we are leaving without you. - He looked up from his cellphone screen and continued. - He also said that if you don’t get ready in 20 minutes, he’ll be taking the breakfast with him as well.

Taehyung growled again and stood on his feet, shooshing away Jungkook and breathing heavily. Diyaa was still laying comfortably on the bed, holding his pillow and glancing at him lazily.

— Ok sugartits, duty calls. You can stay at the dorms and sleep, or go to your own place and sleep. You decide where you want to crash. You know the rules, Yoongi’s room is a forbidden area. Don’t light any black light around, unless you want to see a Pollock painting.

— I'm going home. It's been days since I saw Gale for the last time, I don't even know if she fed Nemo right. - Diyaa commented while sitting up and sliding off the bed.

Walking in the bathroom direction, Tae glanced over to his girlfriend again, feeling immensely lucky, not regretting a single word said the afternoon before when they celebrated their 2 years anniversary. He loved and worshipped her, beside all the gratitude felt for helping with every addiction, also representing to perfection her task as muse for composing and work in general. Painting, singing, writing, thinking, there was nothing unrelated to Diyaa's appearance and personality.

- x -

Late night composing. Taehyung couldn't even remember the last time it happened. Everyone always felt like reliving old situations related to "dark times" would end up in relapsing again, so Namjoon and Suga changed passwords from every studio inside the BigHit building, only allowing Tae to get access whenever another member was around.

Honestly, thanks to Jimin and his fingers full of Doritos powder, Taehyung found out the new codes two weeks after changed, but writing alone was boring so he never felt the urge to use them.

Differently from any other day, Taehyung had everything related to a new song stuck to his brain, from melody to lyrics. After convincing Suga to stay til late on the Genius Lab, he began working hard and passionately. Whenever he lacked words, only staring at Diyaa's smile on his lockscreen helped.

Yoongi was tired of practicing, but didn't had the balls to say no to a deeply inspired Kim Taehyung and called Mark, calling off their plans of having dinner, but politely inviting him over, not really meaning it, he also wanted to finish one song to his new upcoming mixtape. And let's face it, focusing on something other than his shiny eyes and plump lips was very difficult. Per se impossible.

Better than anyone else, Yoongi knew how personal a composition could get, so he just left Taehyung working without interruption, a constant flow of words and melodies emitting from his mouth and guitar.

Considering how long it would take for him to finish the primary details, Suga decided to order dinner, turkey sandwiches and orange juice. Vitamin C was important, bro. Presumably, based on how focused Tae was, he also texted Diyaa guaranteeing everything was alright and if her boyfriend didn't answer any messages it wasn't on purpose.

Nothing else existed around, only the notebook where he was sketching lyrics and the guitar. Distractions showed up now and then, but Taehyung wouldn't even notice, every word and feeling flew from his mind to the paper easily and smoothly.

"Skin smooth like whipped cream

Breathe appealing and reminding me of cold blue breeze

Oh, I feel your silk voice at afternoon

At night, get comfy on your touch soft as wool

I melt in your pastel pink lips

And sand yellowish sweater covering down your hips."

Said the first verse. When Taehyung decided to write a song completely about Diyaa, nothing sounded appealing or good enough. He wanted it to pat ears with a sweet melody, sounding as beautifully as her voice. Randomly, during a conversation with Namjoon, the hyung mentioned a condition called 'synesthesia' where some of the senses just mingled, making the person listen to colours or taste smells. After searching a little better, Tae found a way of describing his love and worship for Diyaa.

While putting together some ideas, Tae remembered how he couldn't tell apart her fruity smell perfume from the mint fresh breath, whenever they were kissing it felt like a froot salad on his taste buds. Or how soft her skin was, so whenever Diyaa used clothes made of light fabrics, everything seemed so unearthly, as if she could fly and astound humanity to a point everyone would worship her as a goddess. In contrast, wool made Diyaa looks so soft and cuddly.

He wished to highlight how everything improved after meeting her. No longer than 3 months together and Diyaa became his sun, warming and keeping him healthy. Now she represented life, heat and a meaning to keep on living. Diyaa was his daily dose of strength,

"You're my reason to live, breathe and never surrender to any adversity

You are my sun and I'm a sunflower

Your warm hugs created a bond based on tender

Even at night, eyes can't see but heart always feel

I'll chase you, round and round I'll follow you for real

You become responsible, forever, for what you have tamed

I would cross the world to see you dusk and dawn. "

At some point, writing became so personal and emotional that Taehyung unconsciously felt tears roll down his face. Luckily, Yoongi was entertained producing a track with headphones on and didn't pay attention to whatever happened around.

The previous afternoon, celebrating their second anniversary with a picnic on the rooftop, Tae began talking nonstop flooding Diyaa's ears and mind with sweet and sincere words, possibly the deepest ones she ever heard from him in so long.

Everything started while looking for shape on clouds, laying peacefully at the rooftop.

— It's just vapor and air, but still manages to keep up in there, looking fluff. Physics is a badass bitch. - Taehyung said laying on his back, while staring at the skies, legs crossed and one hand pointing to the impressively big and dense cloud which amazed him, while the other one was being used as a pillow for his head.

— Yeah. It's so crazy to think that atmosphere is holding a bunch of condensed water right above our heads, and us down here. If something happened and the air got slightly different, we would probably float like clouds or get killed by the gravity, making us suffocate or get smashed by how heavy we would get. - Diyaa said also staring at the skies, but with a grin on her face.

Taehyung turned his head to face the girl, with eyebrows furrowed in confusion. He loved how Diyaa saw things, always finding a wire to connect subjects and turn the assumption into a whole another topic. The brown-haired man would never get tired of their long conversations, pillow talks or just random talks, there was never space to be bored.

— How did you just came up with that, though? We were looking for shapes on clouds and suddenly you are suffocating us in your mind. Girl, your brain is so fascinating. - Tae said smiling, still looking at Diyaa's soft expression and round cheeks, sparkling a light on her dorky grin.

— And that's a compliment I've never heard before. Not even coming from you. - She said turning to stare at his dark eyes, finding a Taehyung smirking passionately, glaring at her. - You always point out how soft my hair feels, or how my taste for movies is possibly the most random, just because we went from watching Saw and began a rom-com marathon with The Kissing Booth.

Tae's hand slid from his lap and found its way to intertwine with Diyaa, caressing the back of her hand with the thumb.

— I love finding new details to compliment about you. Luckily, you are so interesting, it would be impossible to run out of traits and sweet words. - He said and got back into staring at the skies.

They could stay silent for long periods of time without feeling uncomfortable. After so many ups and downs, fights and make ups, the lack of words would never bother them. Only sensing and acknowledging each other’s presence, with light touches or cuddles, was always enough. 

Taehyung glanced over to Diyaa again, watching her skin being caressed by the daylight, he felt a knot tight on his throat and an incompatible need to speak, expressing how much he loved her.

— Sweetcheeks, I love you. - Diyaa looked at him about to say something, but his pointer finger laid on her lips and a waterfall of words flew from his mouth, untying the knot on his throat and making salty tears roll down. - I love you way more than I love anything else in this goddamn world. You met me in a complicate moment, back in then I was a dirtybag full of shit and instead of leaving me and prayed for the best, you stuck around and helped to rise up again. I was so afraid of you getting tired of my hectic life and watch you leaving me for someone more similar. This idea still frights me up. I’m so grateful and I don’t think it’s possible to reward you. You deserve the world and now I remember listening to Yoongi praising Mark for all the assistance on his addictions, and how he claimed that love saved him. Back in then, constantly high and drunk, I mocked him, but look at me now. Full cheeks, sober for over a year, attending to the reunions, in a healthy relationship, living my best life so far. You even made me ditch fake friends and value the ones I have here.

“I don’t think there are words pretty enough to describe you, that’s why nothing I compose is totally about you and I want to change it. Put in a song why I love you and spread around like seeds. You are my sun and I’m a sunflower full of pollen and it’s possibly the worst metaphor ever. Sorry sweetcheeks.” - Tae continued, finger still on Diyaa’s lips, but now she didn’t knew what to say, only feeling the urge to kiss him, while sobbing on his chest, never truly understanding how deep was their love. - “I want to describe you in melodical words. Tell the world how your voice makes fireworks pop inside my brain, leaving a trail of colours around. Everything. You deserve the greatest masterpiece and I’m afraid I won’t be able to accomplish it.”

A whole new cascade of words were said and attached to them a promise: as long as they were alive, they would always keep their fire burning and love growing. Cultivating a life together like flowers, specifically sunflowers, just like the ones Diyaa had tattooed on her wrist and Taehyung intended to paint on his own skin at some point.

 - x -

Yoongi finished editing his track and left the headphones slide down to his neck while saving the archive on a file named “Mixtape 2″. He turned around on his chair and saw a sobbing Taehyung, trying his best to not smudge the lyrics written down. At first the hyung didn’t react, trying to remember what to do in such situations and a few seconds later getting in ‘parent mode’, walking carefully to check on the crying kid.

— What happened Tae? Is everything alright? - Yoongi didn’t touch Taehyung, but made sure he noticed the body getting closer.

— Of course, I’m just so happy hyung! I think I did it! I wrote something worth of being related to Diyaa! - Heavy, but happy, tears went down his face, trembling hands raising the notebook and handing it to Yoongi.

Holding the notebook and sitting down again, Yoongi read the lyrics carefully, paying attention to how personal every verse was. If love could possibly be materialized and described, the words completing that song would make its part. A feeling of tenderness took over Min Yoongi’s heart and the urge to cry got unbearable. He was proud and sentimental.

“I used to be blue and dancing between shades of grey

Your yellow love took over me turning me green

I was growing again, adulting up again

You gave me hope, when all I wanted was to quit

You held me up, now I’m alive and everyday a little more keen

After so many days together, I’m the happiest I’ve ever been

I’m so thankful, sweetcheeks.”

- x -

Inspired by: @ohmydearmoonchild thank you for being a ray of light and honesty among so many toxic people. I purple you.