#im like oh that didnt almost happen. oh that's not comparable at all. oh. fuck off actually. im actually fucking begging you.

[subskz]

…i lost the tag limit war

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Invisible thread- one

pairing : minho x reader

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

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

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

word count : 20k

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

part two

You have always been first in your class.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

✹✹✹

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

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

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

"What are you doing here?" He asked. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

✹✹✹

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

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

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

"I have an idea."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"But-"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

✹✹✹

You came first in your grade this semester.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

 "Most expensive thing on the menu."

"So you are only here for the food." 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Purple."

"I'll keep that in mind."

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

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

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

"You do remind me of navy blue."

"And why is that?"

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

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

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

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

"Yellow is carefree and happy."

"Exact. Now your turn, red."

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

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

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

"And right now, how do you feel?"

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

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

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

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

"I do too."

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

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

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

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

"Shut up. What about you?"

"I’d be a dancer."

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

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

"I just never expected it. Can I-"

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

"I didn't even finish."

"I knew what you were going to say."

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

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

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

"Death might be around the corner."

"Stop it."

"Close your door tonight."

"You are deranged."

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

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

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

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

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

Minho : Poor baby

Yn : Is that you at my door?

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

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

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

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

"What's there to miss?"

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

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

"Trees can't hurt you."

"No shit Sherlock."

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

"Why?"

"I’ll tell you a story."

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

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

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

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

"What did you use?" you ask quietly. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You just made his world stop.

✹✹✹

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

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

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

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

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

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

“He likes you! Go talk to him!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"You look nice. Now leave me alone."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Next time, don’t stay alone."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"I’ll ask her."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"I only tell my friends."

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

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

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

"That’s very sweet of you Minho."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"But then I’d be lying."

"Asshole."

"Pretty," he replies without missing a beat.

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

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

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

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

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

✹✹✹

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Yeah."

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

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

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

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

"You'll catch a cold."

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

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

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

"Yn, I don’t-"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Sure."

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

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

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

✹✹✹

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Never."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

This was something friends think about, right? 

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

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

"Because it's getting longer."

"But it suits you."

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

"I’ll still cut it."

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

He didn't cut his hair.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Yeah?"

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

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

"How can I help you feel yellow?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

✹✹✹

2 months later

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

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

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

"What are you doing?"

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

"Don't mind me. Do your thing." 

"And what are you doing?"

"Enjoying the sun."

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

"Nope."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

✹✹✹

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"it's nothing."

"Yn..."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Where to?"

"I’m craving ice cream."

"And why do you need me?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Not like that you look scary."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Yeah."

"Can I ask why?" 

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

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

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

"You didn't," you reply instantly. 

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

"I will." 

"Okay." 

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

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

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

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

That's four seconds more than the first time. 

Progress.        

✹✹✹

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

She deleted your number.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Yn-"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"You won't understand."

"Then make me."

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

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

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

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

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

"Please, let me make it better." 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"I know."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"I want to tell you."

"You don't need to."

"I know, but I want to."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"It will take time."

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

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

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

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

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

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

"We do."

"Then make a wish."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Epilogue

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

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

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

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

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

[inmirova]

I hate this person I'm talking to so much and I have to try to be nice and it's making me feel fucking insane I'm foaming at the mouth I want to scream

[abombihoney]

my thoughts as I read the new (6 months old) chapter of ethnoentomology bc i said would live blog it and this is least annoying way i can do so.

Hornet really just fucking pulled a gun out im like 1 minute fucking in jesus girl.

---

---

ooooooooh my fucking god he's literally a sopping wet little meow meow. i WILL be coming back 2 this.

---

what this fucking pronoun fuckery i need to reread this shit im onto something. i need to add all my annotations together. i need a conspiracy board. i need to make a chart with color coded lines

---

I wish Hallownest’s official language was anything other than “cryptic riddles.”

me too dude the fuck.

---

CHANCE BEING EMOTIONALLY INTELLIGENT???? telling lurien he isn't at fault for the radiance's actions

however... how could he think anything else really. he is all for blaming the radiance for everything.

i'm feeling a delicious mix of "can i even trust my own thoughts" mixed with Chance trying to separate what was him versus what was other.

What happens when (if) he manages to separate what actions were wholly him with no outside influence? What will he regret? What will he desperately try to justify?

How would he even determine what is him and what is the influence of the radiance? He has no memory of past actions to compare against. He can't necessarily even trust the memories he does have, they're full of hallucinations, gaps in memory where he doesn't know what he did. If it was "him" that did it. AAAAAAAAAAAUGH

___

is chance checking out of reality a lot rn or am i looking too deep. there seems to be a lot of "jump cuts"

---

back 2 valleri. info dump for me lurien i only read a handful of chapters of midnight rider.

---

 "I couldn’t tell you how many times she would’ve been jailed or worse"

wait wasnt she jailed tho. didnt she like. immediately punch pk in the face or am i misremembering. does lurien not know this. i feel like he should be told this information somehow bc like. i feel like it would give him a heart attack.

---

VALLERI LEFT SOMETHING FOR CHANCE???? THE PLOT THICKENS HELLO???

---

why is chance so gay he is SO focused on lurien all the time jesus christ man. i feel like i keep getting trapped in one of them slow burn fics where they keep almost kissing.

FUCKIGN 2 SECONDS LATER:

Having grabbed something from a small drawer in the table behind Chance, Lurien settled back, (disappointingly) further away from him.

chance ur down bad. this is going to blow up in his face spectacularly somehow. good 2 know i wasnt imagining the horny descriptions of lurien from last chapt.

---

new theory: valleri is a time-traveling post-transition chance. source: my other theory that valleri and chance are closely related. similar temperament and appearance. both from california or w/e.

wait i think i remember valleri have future seeing powers. i refuse to finish reading midnight rider until ethno is done tho so i'm keeping my theory

---

Chance reflexively rejected this information before he could begin processing its implications.

side effects of having magic powered by belief: may decide to just ignore things bc if u believe it you make it true. denial is a powerful drug

wait. hmmmmm.

did the radiance take chance's memories? or did chance want to forget? like could also totes be the cool magical barrier that wipes ur memories to prevent the radiance from escaping the corpse of hallownest. but now i am thinking of all the fucked up implications of something so horrible (by a teenagers standards) that chance wanted to forget everything.

---

TUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUSK MY BABY TUSK POV TUSK POV TUSK POV

oh no the baby is injured.

They needed to find Chance. He would heal them, like always—

ur honor they love each so much!!!!!!!!! might be becoming a lil codependent but ITS FINE

---

checks out that hornet was a vicious little child lmao

---

“For Hallownest, there is no cost too great. That is what I told Him.”

OH SHIT

---

oh fuck yeah i fucking love use of game mechanics in stories for problem solving. go little guy go!

---

HEY WHAT THE FUCK WHAT THE FUCK

Like life’s just a script and she’s waiting for her cue.

OH? paralleling what lurien said about PK. INTRIGUING.

(fucked up evil theory: The parallels between PK and Valleri that are being drawn here... from what I understand Valleri became INCREDIBLY close and attached to hallownest. What if Chance is Valleri's hollow knight?)

---

The White Palace was destroyed. But so was the Watcher’s Spire, and Chance could put that back.

my sweet child, you are going to fucking kill chance

---

Too cowardly to confront her own cowardice.

ruh roh raggy. hornet's going to have to contend with the fact that she has killed her own siblings in cold blood eventually. possibly soon

---

fuck yeah i love worldbuilding. tell me more about how the fictional bug city built in a wet cave functioned and how the class divide determined transportation methods.

---

*slaps chance* this baby can fit so much PTSD in it

---

this is spelling euphoria isn't it.

---

hey wait doesn't chance have boat trauma??? didn't he see a corpse under a boat in the last chapter of act 1???

---

something bad is going to happen. we're building so much suspense.

---

"Chance"

??????? WHAT THE FUCK IS GOING ON NOW???????

---

 draped half overboard like a dirty wet rag

chance's natural state really.

---

something in their Void was churning

This happens directly after Chance has his little episode with the boat. Are Chance and Tusk connected by the void? Didn't something similar happen in the last chapter??

---

Hornet i love u. She's so spiderman coded.

---

—Tusk whacked the switch to the elevator and went up and away. “Wh—Vessel! Hold on!”

see u idiot

---

Ah Lemm, the confidence of a man who is very very wrong. he'd shit his pants if he saw all the human shit in the junkyard lmao.

---

Several photos were attached to the line and dangled from ceiling to floor. Dozens of lines around the room like party streamers, a hundred little memories swaying gently in the dust.

megamind ass organization system

---

burned painting frame.... coating the room in ash.. im sure this holds no significance whatsoever and won't come up again.

---

Tusk has so much youngest sibling energy lmao

---

uh oh hornet. ur getting attached.

---

this is to hornet also, isnt it?

WAHT THE FUCK

---

oh okay they are connected. poor tusk and chance. they r gonna become a feedback loop up fucked up huh

---

wait does chance not know shes the princess. lmao

---

aww hug fest JEREMY REAL??? or is hornet infected too hello????

---

IM GOING FERAL VALLERIS SEEING SO MANY THINGS AT ONCE AND REACTING TO ALL OF THEM HELLO?????

---

oh my god i feel like ive been punched seventeen times in a row. i have so much hype i need to run a marathon. im fucking spinning in circles im filled with unrestrained summer fun oh my god im supposed to sleep soon i dont know if i can manage stop thinking long enough to do that holy shit

[lepoppeta]

Vox x Alastor?? For the ship bingo

oh my god okay so radiostatic means everything to me

its so gut-wrenchingly sad and also hilarious and also off-putting and also so steeped in devotion and romance it makes me want to scream ??? i want them to metaphorically kiss and make up but i also know that would never fucking happen and thats also good ??? they make my head spin.

alastor is a shameless theatre kid who LOVES being the center of attention — vox is OBSESSED with alastor, and is thus a consistent source of that attention. vox is distressingly easy to tease and alastor feeds off of his passionate responses like a leech. theyre so codependant on each others apparent hatred. i need to bite something.

my favourite version of their relationship that ive made up (and this only works with their series iterations — imo their pilot/comic counterparts have never even considered an acquaintanceship, let alone a romance) is that their falling out was one huge, violent misunderstanding. alastor began to lose his power and status within the overlord hierarchy when he refused to adapt over time (can you IMAGINE how fucking powerful he would be if he just stopped being such a stubborn asshole and decided to start including podcasts under the "radio" umbrella?) and vox swiftly surpassed him. vox didnt want alastor to be left behind, and offered a partnership where they could operate in tandem and basically control almost all media output in hell. alastor mistook this for vox saying that alastor wasnt interesting enough as he was and HAD to change, and as we all know alastor DESPISES being thought of as uninteresting. he tells vox to fuck off and vox is left wondering what the hell just happened.

objectively i dont think theyd ever make up — alastor is FAR too prideful to ever consider the idea that HE was the one who was mistaken, and i dont think he particularly likes the idea of emotional or physical vulnerability either. regardless, what i would love to imagine is that eventually, SOMEHOW, they do, and that their relationship is... actually so easy. this is most likely just me projecting, but i like to think of vox as just wanted alastor as an actual partner, not a fuck buddy (his "relationship" with valentino is a coping mechanism for his anxiety and confusion and doesnt necessarily reflect on how he would be with alastor, someone i like to think he actually appreciates as a person). vox is a complete lovesick FOOL.

this is so long already so im sticking some extra spicy headcanons below the cut!

if their relationship ever edged (hah) into sexual territory, i actually think it could work, but it definitely wouldnt be vanilla (absolutely zero penetration in this relationship). i think a fair amount of voyerism, dom/sub play, and hypnotism is involved — vox obviously has his hypnotic stare, and i like to personally headcanon that alastor can hypnotise people with his voice. like... idk, alastor i feel like would get a lot of enjoyment (sexual or not) out of toying with people and seeing them squirm, and vox would respond really well to some level of praise + orgasm denial.

for me i can imagine alastor ranging from completely sex-repulsed and having no libido at all, to being appreciative enough of the sensation but disliking the vulnerability and general grossness of bodily fluids that comes (ha-ha) with it. i think vox wouldnt care either way — as long as he gets to have alastor, hes beyond thrilled.

i LOVE thinking about the potential for predator/prey dynamics too. i like to headcanon that alastor actually has to spend a lot of energy fighting off his very annoying prey instincts on the daily and maintaining a mask of indifference. deer/elk iirc are naturally very skittish — alastors hearing is terribly accute and a lot of the time hell ends up being too LOUD for him. his ears are a huge indicator of his emotions so he has to force them to be still so no-one knows how hes feeling. compared to this, despite not being an actual shark, vox has a lot of shark themes, and his obsession with alastor may be in part due to having the desire to "hunt" him and eat him (not that he actually would — the most he would do would probably be to chew/drool on him a little bit). in point of fact, i think is he ever let this desire slip, alastor, being a maybe-cannibal, would probably be find it to be weirdly flattering — after all, some say consumption is the highest form of devotion.

tying back into the hypnotism thing — alastor generally avoids looks vox directly in the eye, both because of the hypnotism thing and also because his face is literally one big bright light ("deer in the headlights"), but in a more sexually-driven situation i think hed actually find it oddly comforting because it dampens his prey instincts for a little while, and (eventually) he trusts that vox isnt going to embarrass him or make him look the fool. vox lovingly coaxes him through orgasm and takes care of all of the gross stuff before alastor even has a chance to be fully coherent.

[leynaeithnea]

Hi :)

here is a lil ask to use whenever you're ready to go insane about love in paradise ( go nuts with your analysis!!! Make it a thousand pages essay!!! Or half a sentence, anything you want love<3 )

YeS YES YES YES THANK YOU AAAH here you go seven pages/3600 words essay :>

TW, for SA/Sxcide mention/discussion, you know the deal with the song

29. Love In Paradise

THE DIVE INTO THE SOUND SCAPE WITH THE CHOIR, the melody, and the clicking clock??? SO GOOD

“Old friend” FRIEND Aaaah U FINIALLY ADMIT IT

“It′s been 10 years since I last saw you” YOU DIDNT CHECK ON HIM IN 10 YEARS GIRL

“Remember me, I am the infamous, Odysseus!, Oh, woah-oh, woah-oh” This was the last time she saw him, its been 10 years, she quick minded him right after that, and HASNT SEEN HIM SINCE--- i love how it is sped up and you can visualize her literally diving through his memories in a timelapse

“Let’s see where you′ve been” FINIALLY, but also thE VOCAL PERFORMANCE (this is me like 90% of this saga, im obssessed)

I LOVE the soundscape of the flashbacks, the way that sounds with a mild echo like in big room? just...in his mind?? IDK how to call it but ITS SO GOOD

“Keep your friends close and your enemies closer” - the first thing that went wrong “Ruthlessness is mercy upon oursel-” BIG THING THAT WENT WRONG

“One wrong move and you’re done for

Anything I-” close call

“Song of past romance I see the” smart way to recall the underworld saga AND bring up the sirens, followed by

“We won’t take more suffering from you”, the way that ody embraced his monster

“Drown in your sorrow and fears” -that didnt go well very long, also, timelaps is slowing down, we’re getting closer to the events that answer where he spent the last years

“Captain? - I have to see her - But we′ll die -I know”, the last moments before he disappeared, making him suffer terribly again at the hands of her father >:)

“Odysseus... where did you go?” she sounds so worrieddddd, her voice tho, pls mother dearest

THE MUSIC, is so coool the island vibes? the dodo do do dodo, the birds and the shore and the....instrument whos name i forgot the tip-tap thing is soo comfy vibesssss, beach island holiday vibes!!

“Morning, sleepyhead, You′ve been resting for a while, I swore that you were dead when you washed up on my isle”.......i need...visuals......i need the most angsty visuals i can get of this, please, i need to see him wash up, more dead then alive and then unconscious for who knows how long, with his stab wound, the concussion from Eurys punch, whatever wounds he got from the lighting hitting his ship AND almost drowning, getting taking care of by her until he wakes up again...

“Did you know you talk in your sleep? Tell me though, who’s Penelope?” ........is she hoping that he’ll say his sister or was she just trying to make small talk?

“She′s my wife”, he sounds so tired/distanced from the situation, her reminding him instantly of the one thing he’s holding on to, maybe remembering what just happened, he needs to go back...

HER SILENCE AFTER THAT IS SO TELLINGS SEGGSEIGS THE ANIMATIC WAS HILARIOUS, i love gigi

and then the “anyways!” WHAT DO YOU MEAN “ANYWAYS” SHE IS HIS LOVE HIS LIGHT HIS REASON YOU DONT ANYWAYS PENELOPE ahem, im vibing so hard to this tho

“I’ve got all you could want here, all you could need here” sounds nice, i would 100% fall under her spell, her voice is beatiful

“Just you and me, my dear, my love for life” uh oh where is this going, huh?? huh???? >:) Ma’am, this is not yours

“Soon, into bed we′ll climb and spend our time” DONT U FUCKING DARE TOUCH HIM HES BEEN THROUGH ENOUGH HES THE ONLY FAITHFUL MAN IN ANCIENT GREECE LET HIM BEEEEEEEEE

“I’m not your man-” THE JUST A MAN REPHRASING? EXCUSE ME???? this is going so differently compared to Circes there are other ways, he has no interest in her, all he wants is to go back home, hes sacrificed the rest of his crew for that, he. needs. to go. home. (the delivery tho omg so good)

“I′m what you want here, I’m what you need here, Just you and me, my love in paradise, Now ‘til the end of time” he does not need you, he does not want you, this is not paradise for him, get the fuq away from my baby girl odysseus, i know youre lonely on your little island, i know zeus did you wrong, BUT THAT DOES NOT GIVE YOU ANY RIGHT TO TAKE CLAIM TO ODYSSEUS; HE IS NOT YOUR MAN

“From here on out, you′re mine, all mine” possissive much, fuck off >:) also thats what he greets him with? thats....not...no. he’s been through so much, he fought in a war he never wanted to go to for ten years, he used a wooden horse to finially end the war because he just needed to go back home, he had to kill a child to choose his family, they were safe on their way home when his best friend got killed, then they almost made it home, but the bag was opened, most of his crew died, his men got turned into pigs and he got another round of the gods playing games with him (see: hermes telling Ody not to refuse circe in homers odyssey when she wants to take him to bed, so he doesnt, he cant refuse the demands of gods), once they finially leave their island with his men back as humans, they have to go through the underworld where EVERY loss he had (which are more than he knew) comes back to haunt him, he learns his family is in danger, theres blood in his palace, all his mercy is harming him, so he embraces the thing he never wanted to be - a monster - and when the sirens come, he kills them, but he has to go further than that, the only way to get home is to sacrifice six of his men, so he does, six more men to haunt his dreams, if thats the price he has to pay he will, but his men turn on him, his trusted brother in law, not only opened the windbag, now he also starts a mutiny, the men he tried to bring home so badly betray him, stab him, bind him to a statue and he can do nothing but watch as they kill the cattle, his doom is sealed, zeus shows up and tells him to either choose himself, or his crew, hes a broken man, how much more has he to go through before he can go home? but he has to home to his family, so he chooses, his last decision he has to make, and he sinks into the ocean, thinking maybe, he can finally close his eyes, he needs to go home but he is so tired of suffering he would welcome an end of it...but then he wakes up, on this peaceful island, with a woman next to him, who suddenly puts claim on him, she wants him IN HER BED??? He needs to go home. he’s alive, he survived zeus and poseidon and aelus and circe and the underoworld and the war and-...he became the monster, he knows what to do, just another face in his nightmares to get home

“Hell no, I could kill you where you stand” he just has to be the monster

“I′m no pet, I’m a married man” HE HAS TO HIGHLIGHT THAT HE IS MARRIED TO HER AH, the fact that he feels like she sees him as a pet? picked up like a stray dog and kept as a pet....he is not that, i also love his electric guitar is in the background together with the ticking clock of the time dive

“Oh handsome, you may try, But last I checked, goddesses can′t die” she doesnt feel threatened by him at all, because she is a goddess, how could a mortal man refuse her? he cant, even if he tries, he has no choice (but also, i hate jorge for dropping this line, just before godgames, ITS LEAVING US NOT KNOWIng WHAT THE HECK HAPPENED THERE)

THEN THE DROP IN THE MUSIC AH its becoming so imposing and threatening AND ITS SO COOL

“Goddess?” terrified, here they go again, another goddess, he is powerless against these forces, it cant be, he needs to get home, how can his luck be so bad?

“You’re adorable” SHE DOES SEE HIM LIKE A PET, HE CALLS HIM CUTE; HE DOESNT FEEL ANY THREAT FROM HIM; HES A GODDESS HES JUST A MAN AH

“Bow down now to the immortal Calypso” CALYPSO YOU BITCH LEAVE MY MAN ALONE; but liek The fuQing audacity? to ask him to bow down? you just told him hes the love of your life and now you ask him to bow down???? THE POWER IMBALANce is so stRONG IN THIS ONE I CANT EVEN

“Here to entertain” entertain who? mh?? YOURSELF? with your new “pet”? NO shut up

“But fear not, I bring no pain” Calpyso, come a bit closer so i can punch you, youre KEPEign him on YOUR ISLAND; THE LACK OF ACTion IS WHATS goNNA KILL HIM; NOT YOU HURTING HIM PHYSICALLY; YOU TORTURE HIM IN the WORST WAYS emotionALLY SO GET AWAYYYYYYYYYY FROM PENELOPES MAN

“Cause we′ve got, All we could want here, All we could need here”, the way she keeps approaching him, dancing around him and trying to get close, while he keeps backing away and trying to get away From her is killing me, they have everything they need to survive yes, which means he does not have to do any work, he has NOTHING to distract him from you, all he can do is do what you tell him to because youre a goddess and he’s at your mercy and SUFFER sitting with his own thoughts and all his regret and shame and pain and trauma and yearing to go back home

“Under my spell, we’re stuck in paradise” fuck you. this is not paradise, this is hell :) :) :) RELEASE HIM

“No one can come or go, my island stays unknown” this, might very well be the worst moment for Ody so far, after EVERYTHING he’s been through. He choose his crew to die, it was supposed to be the last decision, it was supposed to be the climatic event before the end, all the expectations and tensions that rose in him getting set so high but instead..... nothing happens, he gets stuck in “paradise”, no monsters to fight,its not violent, theres no external threads to his life, things should be good, and happy and peaceful. its anti-climatic, and stifling because he has no way to release all this tension, its just stagnation, and all this tension getting internalized, it might very well be worse than having something you can fight against, but Calypso is a goddess, he cant harm her, her spell keeps him stuck on the island, he is powerless. His goal, his reason, his hope impossibly out of reach, all in the hand of this goddess, who doesn’t take no as an answer

“no, no” i love how Jorge wrote another “suffering” thing again, where the last syllable of one speaker gets picked up by the other “unknown” “no” becoming “Unknowno,no” its SO GOOD, but also the implications???? the last time we had this a siren wanted to seduce him and lure him into the water, now its a goddess wanting to lure him into loving and staying with her, again, he tries to find excuses and fend her off, his argumentation is a lot weaker than with the sirens though, he doesnt have a way out, all he can do is refuse and pray she listens, also CALYPSO BITCH THERES NO CLEARER WAY HE COULDVE SAID “NO”; LEAVE HIM BE; HE SAID NO FUCKING ACCEPT THAT HE DOES NOT CONSENT

“I don′t belong here”, he doesnt, time passes, he has to tell himself that this isnt where he’s meant to be, he needs to go, he has to leave.

“There’s something wrong here”, how many times do you think he almost gave in? how many times do you think she was lured in by her spell only to shake the spell off again because he kept feeling that something was wrong, never really falling under her spell, never staying under it for long, because its wrong, this isnt where he needs to be, he needs to get home because his family is waiting at home, theyre in danger.

“I won’t be drawn to love in paradise, not ′til the end of time, there is no way” she just has nothing on penelope. and he will never be interested in calypso as seductive as she tries to be, circe failed, calyspo fails even worse (i love these vocal performances man, theyre SO GOOD)

“You′re mine, all mine” Annnnnd she doesnt take no as answer again, shes so possessive I HATE it, how she drowns out Odys “theres no way - youre mine, all mine” she drowns out and swallows up his voice, ignores him, his voice goes unheard...

and we go back to the clock ticking of the time dive of athena

“Seven years, she’s kept you trapped, out of your control, time can take a heavy toll” SEVEN. YEARS. sagnation for SEVEN YEARS. THIS IS TERRIBlE, Athena sounds so sad...and concerned, from what she’s seen, but just...imagine that, he fought in troy for 10 years, now odys been stuck on this island for almost just as long, and before that he had EVERYTHING ELSE happen to him, feeling powerless against outside forces for YEARS, it weights down in him, all he can do is internalize it, because there is no monster he can fight, but himself. and...we can hear the danger motif in the choir.....because...he’s become a danger to himself....

the soundscape shifts again, we go back into a memory, its raining and windy, at the beach

“Odysseus?”, she geninuely sounds concerened, what could make her concerned i wonder....

“All I hear are screams”,...he...he’s broken, a callback to the underworld, he sounds defeated, hopeless, dissociative

“Ody”...Ody......you dare call him ody? you may have known each other for seven years but you DID NOT treat him right, you have no RIGHT to call him that, the last person who called him Ody was Eurylochus before he signed their doom.

“Get away from the ledge”....hes.....on his last rope, its been seven years since he sacrificed his last crew, ten years since he lost polites, eight since he lost most of his crew, twenty years since he last saw his family, she wants to keep him at the island for eternity, he cant leave, theres no way out, so now he’s here, on the cliffs edge staring out into the deepths below, knowing that Poseidon is still out to get him, but behind him is a Goddess that made him suffer just as bad, if not worse, rly is there any way to escape?

“You don′t know what I’ve gone through, You don′t know what I’ve sacrificed, every comrade I long knew, every friend, I saw them die”, its been more than seven years, and they still haunt his every waking and sleeping hour. he sacrificed everything to get back home, and yet it was not enough, now hes stuck here, and all sacrfices were for nothing, and he has nothing to distract him, when the goddess doesnt want his attention, he just....sits at the beach replaying their deaths over and over in his mind. [One translation of the scenes in Homers Odyseey: She found him sitting on the shore, his eyes as ever wet with tears, life’s sweetness ebbing from him in longing for his home, since the Nymph no longer pleased him. He was forced to sleep with her in the hollow cave at night, as she wished though he did not, but by day he sat among rocks or sand, tormenting himself with tears, groans and anguish, gazing with wet eyes at the restless sea] just....for SEVEN years? good gods, homer really said “how much trauma can we fit into this one man”

“And all I hear are screams” .....and all he hears are their screams

“(It will be fine dear)”, it wont, fuck off, not as long as you keep him trapped

“Come back inside, dear” ..............i...come back inside? to do what? remind him that hes stuck with you? force him to-............my rage is endless.

“Love of my life, come back to paradise” HE DOESNT LOVE YOU; STOP CALLING HIM THE LOVE OF YOUR LIFE, THIS IS STILL NOT PARADISE; DONT::::TRY TO ....BEWITCH HIM, YOU SELFISH BIch

“Let me close my eyes”, hes...so....sooo..so tired. he just wants to close his eyes..and..not open them anymore, doesnt he? He sang to the infant “to close your eyes to spare yourself the view”, he wants to do the same, hes so so tired.....

“I know your life′s been hard”, you have no idea

“I’ll stay inside your heart”,....did you just......did...you really just......use the words his mother said to him in the underworld? ...............

“All I hear are screams!” hes having flashbacks, the ghosts of his past keep haunting him, and shes making it so, so mcuh worse

“(I love you my dear) I love our time here

Life would be so much worse If you had died” YOUR LIFE, the worst part is, she doesnt say this because Ody deserves better, she says this because if he was gone, she would be alone again, and she just wants to have him, own him, have him be hers

“(Just let me close my eyes)”, she doesnt...let him close his eyes, he spents the nights in her bed against his will, and the days, crying at the beach, and when he sleeps he must be haunted by nightmares......theres no rest ever really.

“Please stay from away from harm, Stay in my open arms.......................she..just....made it so so much worse, ALSO JORGE; JORGE WHEN I CATCH YOU JORGE HOW DARE YOU HOW DARE YOU SLAP OPEN ARMS AT US AGAIN WILL POLITES NEVER STOP HAUNTING THE NARRATIVE, Calyspo rly threw “Ody”, “stay inside your heart” and “open arms” at him consecutively, while he was already deep down the trenches.and now......

“(All I hear are-)” what he hears is....

“This life is amazing when you greet it with open arms, Whatever we face, we’ll be fine if we′re leading from the heart, No matter the place, we can light up the world here′s how to start Greet the world with open arms, greet the world with open”

Polites, all his opens, and promises, and he cant live up to it, he tried, he tries so HARD to greet the world with open arms, but he cant, but ruthlessness did not help him either, he misses polites, he was the last person he had at sea who TRULY cared for him, hes having a flashback, PTSD so badly as he is standing at the edge of the cliff, i can just see him falling to his knees, crying and then...

“How much longer till your luck runs out? How much longer till the show goes south? How much longer till we all fall down?”, he hears eurys warning, how much longer till his liuck runs out? his luck has run out, for years now, and hes still stuck, everything has turned bad, the show went south, they all fell down and yet.....

“Waiting..waaiting” his mom....said shed stay inside his heart, he took too long, its been twenty years since he left home, how many other people are waiting for him while is stuck on the island? all these voices are just...inside his head all the time and cant shake them off.

“ooohooooh...ohhh” THE VOCAL PERFORMANCE JORGE- JORGE-... hes just screaming, trying to drown out the voices in his head as he’s breaking down....he wants to let go, he cant let go, he needs to get back home, his family is in danger, theres no one who could help him, the only one, who might have been able to do something, his ally, left him ten years ago, when he defied her, but she is a goddess, if she has any mercy left...maybe...jsut maybe...she could help him...but she wouldnt really listen to him would she? how often has he prayed to her in those years? or has he refused to call out for her in fear of facing more rejection? but...he cant do this any longer, this is ...the very last thing he can do....and so he calls out for her.

“Athena!”, praying that what has been broken can be amended. at least with her.

“He needs my help” and his cry gets heard......athena voice breaks, when she sees how far her friend has fallen.

.....and she decides to do something about it

Oh boyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy, I was worried about this song, how Jorge would choose to tackle the whole situation with calypso, while sticking to his “sfw” rule, AND I DID NOT GET DISAPPOINTeD QUITe on the cONtrary IM OBSSESED WITH IT

also the way polites is in one ear, Eury in the other and his mother all around him? the two sides that Ody had back then, polites more positive, and eury as more devil and both are gone and then his mother is just ALL AROUND HIM

typing this up took a couple of days, but if you will excuse me, imma go cry in a corner now

[kiwibongos]

im back thinking again. regarding my last post with how i interpreted ibuki and fuyuhiko's friendship im heavily thinking abt him and hiyoko. hiyoko more specifically tbh. its hiyoko appreciation time. will contain spoilers

imo she should have lived. also tbh kazuichi shouldve died, not her. thats a whole other sauce tho (again) but like. i feel like hiyoko deserved to survive way more, in general. her potential was really there man

i used to hate hiyoko, i still kind of dislike her in a certain way but its because all of that points blame to the writers of sdr2, for the god awful pacing they thought was good, and how they just didn't really bother to show a lot of growth from her before her time was wrapped up? i enjoy how she was the mean character bc there's always gotta be That One Bitch, but i really would've loved for her to survive, for her to heal and live on for mahiru and even to grow close with fuyuhiko, ibuki, hajime and sonia, and she would perhaps even express sadness towards ibuki and mikan's deaths

its like everything that had happened in the game, and all the time they spent focused on hiyoko and what she was going through just went to waste, and they spent the rest on weaker material or scenes. hiyoko should have been given the same character arc fuyuhiko lived to see. and both of them have so much in common already, they'd make a pretty good duo. e.g., they both lost someone they loved (mahiru & peko), they're both mean, stubborn, and quippy but secretly soft around the right people, also hello they literally look related anyway ... the blonde hair and the rosy cheeks . come on. someone on spike chunsoft saw them. but it didnt work out. anyway i feel like they would bond amazingly, albeit very slowly, but they're definitely the duo to just gossip all the time about other people LOL, and fuyuhiko would try to comfort her as well, because he's lost two people

hiyoko wouldn't just easily forgive him of course, i dont think she ever could, hence why i emphasized they'd slowly bond because the tension would be agonizing. she was furious, and still mourning mahiru when she had just died, but she would at least understand him and grow to accept his company and genuine kindness overtime (and she had almost seemed to near the very end??). if she lived to see his genuine growth and saw that he actually cared and that he would do anything to make it up to her, she'd be way less cautious of him. and she'd realize that the fact that they're both stuck on an island in a killing game, and fuyuhiko genuinely seems to be the only one who seems to bother, and the only one who actually sees her. so if not him, who else does she really have, you know. at least, at that moment

afterwards, hiyoko would just calm down and be more cooperative and helpful overtime, she's not dumb at all and she knows what to say, though she might butt her head in at the worst times, she also doesn't put up with bullshit, the same way sonia doesn't, they both act thoroughly bc they're smart. she'd also be really helpful in the trials tbh, i think she'd be the kind to spot out little details

later on she'd have sonia and hajime to support her too! someone has to help her with her kimono.... fuck it they'd all collectively just tolerate her but also encourage her. compared to fuyuhiko she hadn't really done anything bad, she was just hurt. she just needs someone, now that her own someone was gone

of course id love if she stayed hotheaded but just not call everyone a skank or a pig every two seconds, keep her mean side i love a bad bitch, she just wouldn't have kept that mask up, and she'd learn like, "Oh Shit, these people are all i have, and i need them". if she stuck around, hiyoko wouldve been such a good help as a survivor. and just generally more interesting to see, she woulda stuck out to me more in general. wouldve LOVED to see her shine in chapter three, or the final two chapters

hiyoko fans please rise with me. i love her and her dumb pigtails. tldr im MAD she didn't get her redemption like she deserved she was so cool despite also being nasty but she had a CHANCE dude the potential was shining bright in front of our eyes

[zzzzzluv]

Hi,there. I'm quite new here so I'm gonna ask you a question and your opinion? What do you think of projek high council actually? Because im trying to spread the fandom around to some people actually and it has potential to grow as a fandom everyone no matter what country they are enjoys it,also do you have any headcanons about projek high council if so please tell me what the headcanons are.

hi!

omg same! im also a new user lol

i like the show A LOT. idk how to say this but the show feels like a place to me to vent? like i understand what those characters were feeling because i also had gone pretty much the same thing (maybe not 100% the same but kinda similar). and oh my god the characters dude. THE CHARACTERS. im in love with corruption trope, like im obsessed. you see, fakhri was playing a hero at first, but then slowly acted like kahar. isn't it ironic that he became something that he hate before? talking about kahar, im really curious about his backstory! thank god there will be a movie about him (IM FUCKING EXCITED). ayam is a mood, i love every time he appeared on the screen. okay this is getting long lol im so sorry. anyways, i was expecting a sad ending due to the show being so depressing (i thought naim was gonna die wtf pls dont do that again) but im glad that we got a happy ending! (im a sucker for happy ending lmao) overall, i really like the writing, it's really well done. the pacing is perfect, good casts. i don't really watch a lot of Malay dramas so i cant really compare. but PHC is one of my top series now hehe. though im not sure if everyone knows this but this show might seem a bit unrealistic cuz the higher ups being involved and like there were a lot of things going on, it's actually real. it happened and is happening right now. hell, even in the public university, they still apply this high council shit.

if the producers decide to air the show globally, it could reach some international audience. maybe not a lot, but im pretty sure some people will be more invested.

hm my headcanons?

i don't remember which ep, but it was the one where kahar accidentally pushed (or kicked? im not sure) ayam and led to ayam be in a coma. they did show kahar got traumatised by that but not enough for me lol. so yea, i imagine kahar doesnt dare to look himself in the mirror because he almost killed someone. yea sure, he bullied a lot of people, misusing his power, but he was never a killer. he still has that humanity in him.

and i also imagine him having a rough childhood due to how his dad treated him. you know, constantly being compared to his brothers, thats not very nice. so kahar just swallowed the hate to idk make himself felt full? my headcanons are pretty weird i apologise

and also, since naim and fakhri are on the good terms now, im pretty sure they are awkward around each other at first. cmon, they were on each others' throat, didnt wanna breath the same air. NO WAY theyre gonna hold hands and scream "yay we're a happy family now!" like no. i know damn well that most of the time they don't even talk, but then something random happens and that will be their topic. like fakhri doesn't know how to decorate, then naim will make fun of him or saying something like "ish kau ni, benda senang pun tak boleh buat ke?" naim doesnt mean anything, it just becomes a light banter? so sorry for my bad eng and the fact that you have to read all this...

ohhhh and hakeem! it's actually funny how hakeem is the closest friend to kahar lol. i think they became friends in an unexpected way, but because of that, they became even closer. and it's actually comforting when theres someone who's willingly to become a friend with kahar without any malicious intent!

ahh thank you for the ask! im sorry for making this ans long 🙏 have a good day!

[raiden-brannigan]

Sorry for the long reply/ ask, I'm just very passionate about this:

Personally I didn't get that from the scene with fragile. He seemed far more preoccupied with "ruining" her appearance, reputation, standing as a trustworthy porter company and her pride

It doesn't read as sexual gratification as much as smugness

Hes envied how comfortable in her own skin and has confidence in her looks (and possibly sexuality) and people who care for her/ admire her, possibly even healthy romantic/sexual relationships, and loving parents that didnt abuse her (at least in the ways that "daddy" didnt/arent as obvious) and now he's finally able to bring her down to his "level" to try to make them equals again in the only way he knows how, by dragging her down with him

Im not even sure if there is a sexual component? I think its far more complicated than that, and has far ,more to do with higgs' insecurities and envy tbh

I think the lick with sam is the closest of his actions to have sexual motivation, but even then I'm not sure its almost like hes trying to lay himself bare and be vulnerable while completely in control of sam? That scene is the one where his motives feel the most obscured

(with amelie i honestly keep forgeting that the deathless freaks comic didn't happen where amelie smacks his ass back right after that scene)

But I would be suprised if that was something amelie agreed to in order to upset sam further and bolster higgs as the despicable "villain"

It felt very performative, at least to me

Also many of these wikis are fairly obvious with their lgbtq+ phobia like assuming higgs must be attracted to fragile because of the licking but his attraction is questionable if its sam?

It also seems kinda fucked that its comparing sexual assult to being a pervert, when thats caused a lot of lgbtq+ descrimination in the past? Like higgs is definitely a pervert, but thats not why.

I see this consistently with wikis based on kojima games (and quite a bit of scifi fandoms too) only giving legitimacy to straight characters/ relationships and delegitmizing lgbtq+ characters

So a lot of this is my own personal interpretation, I only really used the wiki screenshot to gather the "scenes" I use and don't entirely agree with some of the terminology and phrasing. But it is a place i can use to get all the canon plot beats in one place and I already had this interpretation before reading the wiki section.

I think all the things you said can be true with him also being a bit of a creep. Like, he has a Lot of depth as a character and I don't want to dumb it down to "Oh he's just a creep who assaults people" cause that's not at all the case.

But at the same time from the moment you meet him he just gives off Bad Vibes. He can absolutely be jealous of Fragile and looking to ruin her in every way (physically, mentally, reputation wise) and still be Weird about it. He's a complex character with complex motives and no one reason for doing something.

We might just interpret his character differently but this is how I read a lot of the stuff he did. Again, not everything gets dumbed down to him assaulting people cause he wants to but he does give me personally that vibe. He can violate Sam's space purposefully to make him uncomfortable and still get some sick gratification from it. The way he creepily pats Sam sometimes, talking about Fragiles "~pretty face~", etc, these are all real things I've both seen and been victim of by people who absolutely do get off on it.

Again this is all just how I read his character, and there is no one way to interpret any character.

[weirdcat1213]

YEY THE HORRORS i mean YEY THE BOOKCLUB :D

thoughts on volume 6 (oh boi we're almost halfway someone hold me pls)

chap 1:

-OH MY GOD ITS HIM I FORGOT ABOUT HIM FOR A MOMENT (not in general, ik he's in 98)

-HEY HIS WINGS MAY BE CREEPY BUT THEYRE ALSO BEAUTIFUL TO ME >:[

-HOWEVER i love how yeah they are scared af but also get that vash as a person is not bad and they don't leave his side

-WHY ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT YOUR BF LIKE THAT STOP STOP STOOOOOP. IDC THAT HE IS A LITERAL LASER CANON HES STILL JUST A LITTLE GUY

-are we...supposed to notice how bad the state of the gun is or...?

-nono brandon is right, i would also not give good guns to cops

-vash i fucking swear-

-SHUT UP YOU FUCKING COP >:[

-BRO WTF

-YEAH BRANDON CALL HIM OUT

-MY FAVORITE WEIRD CREATURE IS HERE

-ok in my 1st read didnt get that, idk why but i was confused about meryl getting worried for some reason. but she has a (sad) point. will one day the ptsd related to violence and guns be enough to make vash not shoot his gun? shes asking an interesting question. shes literally asking how much can vash take imo.

-wait so...was the replacement gun...the one in stampede??? (i will compare them later)

-DONT LOOK AT ME WITH THOSE GENTLE EYES MAN CMON

-I didnt notice he took the punisher lmao

chap 2:

-:c wolfwood having nightmares its not even a hc, IT IS CANON

-NOT THE FLASHBACK OF VASH CRYING BLOOD OUCH NO PLS NO

-:c im not even mad at wolfwood calling vash a monster cuz it must be fucking TERRIFYING but it still hurts :c

-you could...but youre not gonna

-"so yeah you cant be there for every problem in the pla- HOLD UP WHERE ARE YOU GOING"

-lmao meryl is like me fr

-this time i got most of the fight but i think we can all agree the mpv was the table

chap 3

-YEY LEGATO IN THE.....metal handbag?

-YES ELENDIRA FUCKING READ HIM

-OH MY GOD HES HERE HES HERE OH GOD NO

-i remember i was so confused i didnt realize THATS HIS FUCKING TONGUE

-also did double fang kill trail of death?

chap 4:

-OH I LOVE THIS SCENE SM. i also hate walking in a place with a shit ton of people

-YES IT IS BABY, THATS THE SAME CHILD YOU [so so redacted] WOOOOOOOOO (i love this chapter)

-oh...yeah that...oh

-"we cant survive without her power, neither can you" dude...dont...just dont

-ah yes. the hair. yeap. just a cool artistic decision. yeap.

-also i forgot how fucked up the last run was here

-oh he felt it, i saw that in his eye

-oh so he also went apeshit....ohhhhh. ok so if vash went apeshit cuz of a physical fight or flight reaction (I THINK) did knives go apeshit cuz of hate? the physical need to kill people in revenge? nice

-BRO WDYM "why not just end this crusade?" YOU JUST SAW WHY HE WOULD NEVER END IT

-oh that was his last straw. one thing is him being tricked by a human but that lie affecting his brother? the one thing he's trying to protect (yes ik he's not doing the greatest job at it) from humans? yeah no you gotta die

chap 5:

-NO. NO. NONONONONONON NOT THIS CHAPTER NO

-I HATE THE METAPHOR ALREADY (i love it. i want to yell at nightow my thoughts about it. i will never be normal about it)

-pls no. im begging you. pls dont make me read this again. this is when my sanity starts to break into little raggedy pieces of paper

-i just notices this change happens cuz he got HIS MEMORIES BACK WHAT IF I ENDED IT ALL

-i dont want to read anymore

-its just. so fucking hard. like ik we say hes jesus. but at the same time jesus never felt like that. jesus was born without sin but in vash's eyes he is full of sins and no one can forgive him. bro, honey, god would forgive you anything. you are his favorite im sure. but no matter the arguments for the allegory vash can never be jesus cuz he carries the pain of his "sins" everyday PLUS THE ONES FROM THE HUMANS. idk. im sad and tired. my baby. its ok i forgive you. and im sure rem forgives him. im sure. im sad

-anyway, back to the kinda normal thoughts

-also i think vash thinking he has to forgive himself is kinda flawed. like instead of forgiveness he has to accept what happened and i think those are different things. ofc yeah july was messed up but he never intended to do it. idk

-ANYWAY

-huh, those speakers look like eyes

-cant even swallow in misery in peace anymore lmao

-:c not the day drinking

-i think thats vash talking but yeah....nothing is easy for my guy. hes kinda right, better than crying ig...

-i prefer spike-isms but i will also take needle noggin-isms thank u

-that man can move in such unnatural ways *hears the uncanny vash people cheer at a distance*

-oof, the ptsd got meryl

-also the question is not whether vash was going to take the bullet or not, the real question is how hard does that question makes me cry

- SHUT UP SHUT UP SHUT UUUUUUUUUUUUUP

-OOF, i mean i 100% get meryl but OOF

-also YES THATS WHAT I FUCKING MEAN. AND I READ THIS ON [redacted] A FEW WEEKS AGO. THE BALANCE BETWEEN EXTREMES ITS JUST NULL, ITS NOT A COLOR AT ALL. his love and faith in humanity vs the pain they cause him...that balance creates a colorless emotion and IM SAD ABOUT IT.

-i hate that final page. i fucking hate milly protecting meryl from her memories while comforting her while protecting her from the rocks, i hate the people still insult vash even when he was long gone, i hate to see the children who saw the same thing as their parents try to convince them to stop because they know vash would never hurt people on purpose only to be ignored..and more than anything i hate vash apologizing for something he has no control over.

-ALSO I ALSO FEEL LIKE CRYING VASH-

[let it be on the record that i needed a minute to continue with the volume]

chap 6:

-OH NO IT STARTS

-"how could i have known?" youre telling me you spent years studying yourself and other plants and never saw one with black hair? really? (im not saying its a plot hole, im saying he was too distracted being a dick)

-so that was his imagination im assuming

-TESLA MENTION WE WIN

-OH GOD OH NO PLS GET ME OUT OF HERE NO PLS NOT THIS

-i love her dialogue with the funny glasses lmao, she really was the only mom ever

-oh..here come the tears

-oh right..they used to be like this

-oh...oh god

[prettyflyshyguy]

Alright for the freaks who are oldschool Supernatural tumblr people, or just normal supernatural people, and for the rest who are just like me and don't know shit: I'm dumping all my garbo takes under the cut.

Mostly gonna be me either being really enamored or really upset.

No in-between. These things are either great or the worst. My tastes are specific and I'm picky with vampire fiction and rarely do I find media that ticks the boxes yet, I still watch almost anything I can find obsessively.

Who knows maybe this'll become a new casual TV series if I like the dynamics. Anyway, long post warning under the cut.

They got Bela Lugosi's Dead playing in a room full of nu-metal heads LMFAO

truly the alt communities have always been done so dirty in media

least they did their research on song choices

-

jesus christ

flashbacks to my steampunk phase circa 2011

-

I LOVE that this woman looks so normie and looks so delighted when she meets this equally normie looking dude in an alternative bar (i want to go there the people seem chill and the vibes are impeccable)

anyway who is this guy he seems familiar

love that they made the most normal dude in the bar the real monster good on them :)

christ they just took one look at twilight and went yeah lets TV parody this shit just for a laugh didnt they

NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO SHE'S 17

NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO(DID SHE HAVE A FAKE ID I WASNT PAYING ATTENTION)

OK ok ok you get big bonus points just for this bit. Just for this bit.

Thank you supernatural go off

-

"I'm just scared I'm dreaming and I'll wake up in math class" girl me too

im sorry this woman looks so much older than 17

POINTS DEDUCTED

POINTS DEDUCTED

BAD TEETH

great eyes, horrendous teeth. very dissapointed. I'm only here for the fucked up canines because we already HAVE them and whats better than perverting the existing human form into something subtly wrong

-

This show has such an aggressive title screen compared to buffy and the x files LMAO

-

ok i can get behind the chevvy, the chevvy is nice

-

HHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

POINTS ADDED - holy shit points added for this cheesy poster alone really capturing the schtick of the late 2000s

ok i get it, i get it guys, they're fun, they're funny, they've got a great sibling energy, the periodic 'screaming' happening in the background of this scene is sending me

-

this has been too fun so far i feel like somethings gonna ruin it

LMAOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

Ok this is so self aware yet the degree they're committing is just.

its marvelous. this is peak. I'm into it.

there are so many ads please i want to see dean have a bad day

Holy shit is that Skinner from the x files i love that guy

-

the fashion. iconic. if anything I'll be coming back to this for inspiration for myself.

-

the way Dean just slammed that guy on the car yelling "OPEN YOUR MOUTH"

yeah instant favourite.

you've rounded a corner, a dude has just beat the shit out of your brother and now he's about to force feed him blood and your response is: stand there staring like the shocked pikachu

oh so you wait till after he's done to scream "no!" in a half hearted tone

is there something I'm missing here, i know Sam gets a bit cooked at some point (does he get possessed??? idk) so I'm gonna assume thats whats going on

this is the best 'turning' scene I've ever had the pleasure of witnessing in all my years of trawling through vampire media

holy shit the team that wrote this episode fucking get it

the audio design, the acting, is so on point

Supernatural Crew you cooked so hard and I'm deeply thanking you for it

this was fucking made for me what the fuck what the fruck what the fuck what the fuc

Nooooo dont have an emotional breakdown in the bathroom looking at your fangs, but you're so sexy aha

The constant heartbeats anytime Deans in a room with someone got me grinning like :]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]

ok points deducted, again, for bad teeth but my god

the "I gotta go-" scene GOOD SHIT GOOD SHIT

someone get this kicked puppy a sippy cup

a red fanta chug jug

where is his sippy cup

look i know its probably not fun, at all, to drink red mystery meat juice on set but its gotta be cheaper than CGI teeth. Please.

Please let more relunctant vampires reluctantly chug jug (with you)

Oh Never Mind they wrote it in that he can't drink or he's stuck >:(

im still having a good time, just a bit less of a good time

YEEEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAAHAHAHAAAAAAAAAAA

HAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

-

using a large serrated knife to cut appart a horde of vampires seems like a great idea and getting covered in blood you're not supposed to drink is inevitable

but watch out

Sam: thats a pretty mentally stable thing to do

I REALLY WANT TO

CHUG JUG WITH YOU

ok this scene of him makes up for the lack of authentic blood chug jug I'll take what I can get

-

Ok final thoughts: that was a solid 7 and a half out of 10

thank you Supernatural you hit almost all the high notes when most stuff falls flat for me. Still, you came soooooooooo close. And got so far. And Yet in the end it doesnt even matter.

Still, this one's going straight to the pool room, and I can comfortably say I'm throwing it on the shelf of 'comfort media' that I can go back to on a bad day.

This had some fucking BANGER scenes that surpassed my expectations and deeply pleasantly surprised me. Good shit! As someone who is hard to please, this was a riot. Still; a shame they arbritrarily rules-d him taking a chunk out of someone. Would have been sick. Could have had the great slow build up of the initial turning scene - him and the love interest, holding back - then him cracking it after holding out and snapping.

It is not too much to ask, I swear. It's a good trope.

Do I dare take the risk of trawling through fanfiction to find another horribly specific weirdo like me, because Supernatural seems huge and a scary place to fanfic trawl.

[lilliumrorum]

Okay guys weed story time *a new tradition* (Every time I am in an interesting rotation or situation I will post it)

The first time I ever got high I was 14(DO NOT SMOKE UNDERAGE YALL) and my friend had invited me back to his house after we had been in a parade for AFJROTC.

Originally we were supposed to go back to get his money and then walk back to the restaurant (which was all the way across the city from his house). On the way there, I was still wearing my Combo-1 Uniform (cap included) and this important for later in this recount of events. After nearly being attacked by a dog, we made it to his house.

He told me about how he fucked his girl and got caught (my at the time bestfriend) on the couch and I remember looking at him like ???

We went back to his room to get his wallet and I instantly smelled bud. He noticed the lil smile on my face (I had smoked before but never got high) and he was like "You wanna smoke, bubbles?" (Btw this was my nickname bc of an inside joke in ROTC)

And this is how it went:

"Sure, but nothing's gonna happen. 'Never works"

A wicked grin spread across his face as he passed me a wax pen and uttered:

"Something will happen, follow my lead. If you don't feel it you're fuckin immortal."

So as I suck the life out of his cart he puts on Rammstein and blasts it on his fucking speakers, and he makes me hold the hit in for as long as I can before I cough. THEN HE WHIPS OUT A FUCKING PEACE PIPE WITH AN AXE ON IT.

"Now you're gonna hit this, trust me that pen aint shit"

I was already beginning to feel the effects of the wax, but I trusted him.

After taking 8 hits off of the pipe he had me take 5 dabs (Fuckin love dabs) and I was starting to get paranoid.

He just took a picture and laughed at me and said he was gonna send it to his gf (my best friend at the time) and then MADE ME HIT A FUCKING BONG.

After 15 more minutes of fucking around with his guitar and fumbling about, he took me to the garage with a joint (Mike Tyson knockout strain) and a pipe and we finished them both off.

"How's life right now, Lily?"

"Oh its goooooood." I giggled with a dumb-ass smile and a thumbs up.

He laughed for like a minute straight and I was bewildered bc like pls stop this is not funny I'm new to being high and I'm trying my best to breathe rn I'm breathing manually.

So he led me outside and whipped out his phone and was like "What does it look like"

I have the video if yall wanna see it but I looked terrible

"ITS SO FUCKING GREEN HOLY SHIT IT'S LIKE GTA WHEN YOU HIT FRANKLINS BONG AND THE FISHEYE CAMERA MIXED WHAT THE FUCKKKK IM TRIPPING FUCKING TESTICLES MATE."

So anyways I ended up almost getting run over two times bc I was bumbling around and my shoes were making my feet blister and he didnt make an effort to help me. After walking for four miles we finally got to the restaurant and he ordered me a wrap and bought it for me (which was really sweet) and a smoothie, but my eyes were red as shit and I needed to go to sleep so I decided to nap on the table.

There we were, still in our uniforms, but I looked higher than NASA at this point and I eventually was asked if I was alright and caught a few stares.

I ran to the bathroom bc I almost threw up.

After 15 minutes he walks in the bathroom and drags my ass out of the stall and starts fucking hollering laughing and saying shit like HAHAHA I KNEW I COULD WIN or something like that and called himself my weed demon like ?????

He barely even smoked compared to me...

My mum's name flashed on my phone and he picked it up for me and claimed I threw up at his house and I was going home (It was close to the restaurant so I would be home soon) and she was like OKAY:D and all happy bc she thought I wasn't depressed anymore since I was with a friend I guess.

After he walked me home I immediately looked down and averted eye contact with my mom and her ex and just speed walked my ass to my room with my leftovers.

I heard a quiet "I think shes high"

And just said NO. not a yell, just fuckin

NO.

and when I woke up that night I fucked up that food and smoothie and facetimed him and his gf while devouring it.

Experience rating: 7/10

Good food, Almost got killed, almost got my ass beat by my mom, guitar, good music, Indica.

@konigslittleliebling wanna share your experience with a reblog bae?

[thefandom-casserole]

Episode 46 Notes-

- I SAW A SPOILER IM SO SCARED

- WHAT DID SCAM DO

- HERMIE MY BOY

- It’s time to start

- I’m vibrating I’m so scared

- They’re doing a similar opening to when we met Paeden <3333

- OMG THE LAST NAMES I ADORE THIS

- Rock paper scissors 😭

- What was that moan. Omg.

- MATT WHAT

- Why not

- The clussy. Hot clussy autumn

- Taylor RadFact: Taylor’s mom buys Taylor Everything at a Ninja store thing after the incident at the karate thing

- SHE HAS DONE NOTHING WRING YOU ARE SO RIGHT

- “She’s not spending like a single mom” 😭

- What is with their moans wtf they’re so silly

- Linc RadFact: Linc had to sign a NDA (Near Dad Agreement - you have to always be near dad, 2.5 feet) if he wanted to go outside and play with anyone. No fifa if he breaks the rules. They got rid of it when he went to school

- “Hi Will~” me when I talk to my irl bestie wil (not Will Campos I’m not that cool 😞)

- Normal RadFact: He ruined the football game after a botched front handspring. Normal runs Model UN Ecuador and all other countries declare war on him.

- They sound like the hallways I walk down in school 😭

- Scary RadFact: Scary tried to start a petition to make emo music called Black Metal (even though she doesn’t like Black Metal and only likes Emo)

- Daddy Fact: Scam thought it would be funny for Jodie and him <333. He scammed Jodie (straightest man) into falling in love with him

- The real thing here we go 😭

- I’m so scared

- The two genders: Blade pose and whatever the other thing they said was

- INSIDE YOU THERE ARE TWO WOLVES

- hehe

- Wow Shmegan is really smart

- YOU PRETEND TO KILL ME

- THATS SO BAD

- This is going so bad 😭 oh my fucking god

- I ROLL IN

- I ROLL OUT

- A NAT ONE

- A NAT TWENTY

- This is one of their most wild plans omg

- BETH YOURE SO SMART OMG

- Awww poor Hermie

- AHHHH HERMIE

- IM STILL SCARED FOR YOU MAN

- Abraham Lincoln was actually a wrestler I hope Anthony or Freddie or one of them remembers this

- HA TAYLOR LEAVES NORMAL STAYS

- That’s so in character

- “Can I bet on this fight?” SCREAMING CRYING THROWING UP

- PAEDEN PLEASE JOIN THIS EPISODE IM BEGGING YOU

- The mascot thing again <3333

- 32 damage. Omg.

- NORMAL SINGS THE NATIONAL ANTHEM FOR TEEN HIGH <3333

- Comparing Britain and the US as exes is wild man

- I missed the autism from Normal omg

- NORMALS IN DEATH SAVES

- Wait nvm Linc saved him

- The music 😭

- Nat one from Abe 😭 Pulling a Paeden there

- Lark and Sparrow ohhhh

- JEZZ BALL OMG OMG

- OMG OMG OMG

- AHHHHHHH

- DEATH SAVES NOOOOOO

- Heyyy Normal and Hermie will have something in common now. They’re both burnt.

- Nat one again 😭 REALLY channeling his Paeden

- ABE LINCOLN IS ALMOST DEAD OMFG

- Linc why do you like Shmegan so much dude

- Booped on the schnoop

- LINC’S PULLING A GRANT OMG

- SPIDER BOIZ

- I love how they used to dunk if Taylor for being a useless ranger but now that he’s a rogue literally everything would be better if he were his old class

- HES JUST YELLING

- THIS DOESNT MEAN ANYTHING

- HIS HEAD EXPLODES

- I LOVE HOW IF THEY DIDNT YRY TO ROLL THAT THING TO SEE IF ANYONE WJATED TO BE A KING THIS WOULDNT HAVE HAPPENED AT ALL

- THE STUPID WHIMS OF THE DICE

- He’s no longer dying thank god

- SPIDER BOYYYYYYYY

- He’s lost his mustache nOOOOOOOOO

- Hamilton ayyyyyy

- Heyyyy Grant

- Hide n seek

- Norm pulled a Linc

- He pulled a Henry! Doing what Henry did to Cern

- HA LOSER SHMEGAN IMAGINE HA

- Normal got hit by a bullet omg

- BAD GIRLLLLLLLLL

- BAD GIRLLLLLLL NATTTTT 20

- AHHAHAHAHAHAHAHHSHAHAHHSHAHHAHSSHAHAHAHSVS

- OMG I LOVE THIS

- Poor Taylor omg

- Matt did it again 😭 he gave Anthony the choice

- HE WAS SHOT

- OMG OMGOMG OMG AJAVAJBASJJSBAHABDBS

- “For the final time roll performance”

- I’m genuinely crying omg

- “Normal I like you too”

[foxtriestobiteandmaimandkilland]

okay so. im like. idk ANY music theory. like. at all apart from when i played the piano for a couple years when i was like 7. so. this is definitely the ramblings of a guy who is being very autistic about bug video game. and nothing more. (and also has been done before i am purely doing this for @exnihilo-comic​ bc they asked me on my thoughts) BUT. i am sooooo fucking insane about the hollow knight ost. (LONGGGG post below the cut)

SO LIKE. theres OBVIOSULY the like. main theme yknow. thats in enter hallownest and the title screen song. the one that goes likeeee errr. (wait i gotta look up smth rq)

OKAY SO THERES THIS. (just taken from here) :

anddd theres this :

WHICH is like. yknow. the whole Big leitmotif of. Everything. BUT. the thing is. i was wondering which songs specifically it is in. bc like. im hoping its not just. hallownest’s motif. and more for smth specifically. BUT YEA. so so far theres obviously the title screen and enter hallownest (which is the trailer music im p sure ?)(ok yea it was the ferocious foes trailer music). BUT. im gonna go thru all the songs n see which ones have this in (i will not be accurate as im going by ear since errrrr. im not the best at reading sheet music)

okay well dirtmouth (taken from here) IMMEDIATELY has the theme in it (with the bit in red missing)

it is clearly slower n in a dif key but like. the same theme

and pretty much most of the melody of dirtmouth is like. essentially this same theme. just a loaddd slower. and in a dif key. im not gonna screenshot each comparison and try to pinpoint each difference bc. like ive said, idk music theory. i just like video game osts.

okay so crossroads is a little more difficult but to me it sounds like it possibly has the same chord progression ? but i may be speaking out my arse so someone who actually knows what theyre talking abt could draw comparisons.

altho i DO want to talk abt the crossroads track. this is the part where i start bullshitting FULLY. so like smth i LOVE abt it is how very drawn out each note is. like it sets the scene of hk PERFECTLY. its like. the track feels a lot more loose ? i suppose ? than the other songs you wouldve heard by now. which ig feels like it rlly shows how sorta. abandoned and like. i mean “forgotten” the “forgotten” crossroads rlly r. like they have no sorta form left but its clear that crossroads was once a place w a lot more life in it besides the handful of npcs u meet there (well like. yknow. uninfected life). but the one thing abt the crossroads track is that it sounds. calm yknow. which does reflect the crossroads compared 2 the other locations. the enemies there r simple enough to defeat and theres plenty of safe spots. its right under dirtmouth so its (before its infected) the safest area a player will explore for a whileeee. anyways ye the crossroads track is cool.

okay w the false knight battle theme i wasnt RLLY gonna say anything abt it BUT. it does actually have the main theme in it.

(link)

sooo yea so far the only connection ive made is Almost Every Song Has This Theme In It.

oh also in the false knight theme there is this ONE bit that sounded a little like the very beginning of the mantis lords theme to me but idk theyre not the CLOSEST just similar.

anyways next song: greenpath. so i THINK its happened again and THE WHOLE BIG LEITMOTIF IS ONCE AGAIN HERE.

like dirtmouth it is slower and in a different key but thats definitely it. which honestly was unexpected i didnt think it was in any area music. so once again, i think this is in literally almost EVERY track so thats making me more wonder abt the tracks its NOT in. but ill come to that later maybe. what i do want to know is if theres anything else in greenpaths track thats in another song. what im thinking is perhaps therell be a similarity between greenpath and hornets battle music ?

okay this sorta call and response thing here is interesting to me because it sounds veryyyy familiar to me. (everytime i have heard it tho it just sounds like either hornets voice at some point or when sly says gibolen mas sooo take this as u will. i am however listening 2 a couple of hornets lines and the closest i think there is is when she says la fe nuva nido or whatever that gibberish is) anyways the call and response interests me.

anyways more abt greenpaths song in general terms, i do love how this one feels a lot more full of life than crossroads, because crossroads felt very barren w the blue and the brick(?) whereas greenpath is full of life, just in the sense of scenery. its (obviously) a lot greener and full of plant life which already feels loads more alive. and the enemies there also arent simply just husks (AND EVIL SAP MONSTERS) theres like. theres moss creatures and fucking squits and those shooty wall things and just a whole lot more life, and that is reflected very well in the track bc it sounds a lot more full and like it has actual emotion. and even the battle theme (like where u fight the moss knight) is a lotttt more emotional and tense than crossroads’ - which feels a lot more like just sorta. primal fear what with a beat that sounds almost like a heartbeat and the repetitive drums. but greenpaths battle theme is a LOT more lively and dance-like and it has DEPTH. idk i thinkkk im rambling a little but i do love greenpaths contrast with crossroads

OKAY. hornets battle theme. smth obviously noticed a lot before is her theme is comprised of only string instruments (yknow bc. shes a spider n uses a needle and will star in SILKsong so like. yeah. string) ONCE AGAIN. the main motif is in this song surprise surprise. (link)

altho smth interesting abt it is how it changes depending on which half of the theme is playing. for the first half the er. whatever u call the top bit i forgot. is playing it (and im prettyyy sure its a violin or viola or smth similar). but then it switches to the er. bottom line. and is played by a perhaps cello ??? smth lower than the first instrument. and different. which i think is a nice little thing AND is similar to the call and response from greenpath.

thats p much all i can say in terms of “technical” stuff BUT. in terms of vibes. I love how perfect this is for hornets fight. it definitely reflects how shes a lot more agile than the false knight and depends less on pure strength and more on her movement in the arena. i love how very fast paced it is AND HOW HAPPY IT IS. it is a VERY happy piece because hornet is ENJOYING HERSELF. bc yes her and ghost r fighting but she never wants to HURT it (even if i DIED to her like. a million times.) and WE never hurt her, we just beat her (and if ur a speedrunner, bully her in a corner) but she laughs during the fight, she has silly little battle cries, shes having a FUN TIME. which is shown in the music bc its CONSISTENTLY HAPPY. also the very sharp and sorta staccato (see i know SOME music terminology) notes throughout r veryyy fitting for the fights pacing and hornets attacks.

Okay this has been sitting in mt drafts for a bit and idk i might rb w add ons but j think i was just on smth else that night bc ive never been like. In the Mindset(tm) to do more of this. Ok. Have fun exnihilo person. Yea.

[solardick]

Letter Тт is starting to come to in being enlightening compared to the overlay of what tarot gave to letter Tt. As the tower.

Тт is to taboo as well, as privacy, and secrecy. To signs, graphs, communications, creativity, stability, the firm and the stronghold. It goes from theory, theology, tariff, the dark, the shadowy, to heat and warmth, to counter thr brightness of the sun and the snow. Fortitude and shelter against the elements.

Doesn’t seem to be a letter Southerners would understand. Bracing a winter hardens and calms the spirit.

I find it curios to say the card is becoming to the nature of saturn over the winter months. This requires manipulating and managing the environment, actively moving, deplacing and shaping the surroundings. Being vigilant.

As card number 20. It comes to a hardy place. The final judgement card of tarot, and the tower card of the latin script. Curios also that these to letters Tt and Тт both share the same placement.

Now this is the westerners view towards the Russians. From “their” perspective, its the westerners being active and the Russians being reactive. As a majority of Тт words at this point are fundamentally receptive, to whether the external pr the internal for both seem to be “active” simultaneously. As Тт is also brought to bare on sensitivities and nurturance against the odds. It could be said to be character building.

At the moment this places this card near january/febuary. Which happens to be the time “Trump” gets the presidency. Which im forced to care about. Because canada is a bitch. And it cant defend itself. All another country has to do is blow up the hydro dams and half the country freezes to death.

… alright it seems the pestilence plague of 2024 is over. Or nearing its end. Its been near 7 months since ive picked up after myself. Another year stilen by evil cocksukers. Like its funny. To be constantly paired next to sexual deviants. Year after year. Ugh. I dont like them anymore. I almost dies several times but, who cares. Im sorry but, Putin’s loose jupiter, mars, pluto trine is sitting right on my NN and next to my mars.

But i domt know what Trump is talking about when it comes to donating resources to the ukrainian war. Whne he was talking about erecting a wall to divide canada from the states. Pretty expensive endeavour. What 12 billion dollars for the Mexico wall?

And how about you fuckhards, stop using my fucken horoscope to manipulate my fucken life. Maybe unless this path leads me to 30 fucken virgins up in terrorist heaven. I cant beleive how un imagonably fucked up canadians are. Jesys fucken christ.

Well atleast thats two weeks from having to listen to stupid bs. Feels better. Besides the suicidal desires y’all gave me when things go good. Oh they told me why. Indirectly and their wrong. But ou well. Canada is the gayist country in the world. Fallowing behind is the states. And maybe japan. I havent checked the census.

Ah brain washing. When you get a desire to do somethign. Refrain from it and then your brain is already going on with the fantasy regardless and your like wtf? But i didnt buy it. I noticed that years ago. And everytime. I refrain. Because because im going this direction but im seeing the opposite horizon. Not only am i negativly aspected to my family. Im negativly aspected to the country and negativly aspected to present transits. Oh and the bible too. Life is fanstatic. If i dotn want anyone fucken with me. I gave to live in complete seclusion. But wait! I cant even do that. Still being fucked with in my solitude.

I somt want to donate to charity anymore. The feel good of helping others. Is only countered by fucktards lying to me every fucken day. While i slowly die to the infirm. Ive waited over 25 years to die. They womt kill me.

They went from filling our parents minds with loomy toon and what disney. To the horror of anti-semitism of the drug addled hippies. To the horrors of the 80s amd nineties film industry alomg with the pornography. To the horrors of adult swim which is queer as fuck. Like southpark, and rick and morty. I mean what the fuck. I fucken hate life. Cheers to frowing and supporting a rapist culture. Oh yeah, you’re all “woke” as fuck.

Too bad hilliray disnt get the presidentcy amd that trump is saving a nuclear holocaust. The first wimen president starting ww 3 thats a good start eh, femmes. But, lets vote in a bank rupting, stand up comedian/tv celebraty whi talks openly anout grabbing women by the vagina. Erecting walls against unsanctioned influences and saving the world from disaster. Wtf. Pls stop

With the bs. Its everywhwre. What was the news way back pre covert rape, i mean covid? Trumo saying he wanted a wall dividing from canada while canadains where climbing over military faves to catch their. Pokemmon goes? True story, it was on the news. And then people are all like no! Lets all stay home and eatch the news, which said nothing anout russia attacking ukraine just stay indoors and be ignorant.

I was up to 2 oclock last night. Im not surviving 12 jours shifts. Well may as well go get high and smoke some cogs. Because im incapable of foing anything today.

Thanks for the sychotic seathwish y’all injected me with whenever jnstart feling happy and functional. Cleaned up opened the blinds. Did some art. Oh well its all in the trash again.

These two weeks allowed me to view myself positivly for a breif moment. Absence from all the external.

Looking for txts on answers to my “esoteric” interrests but, i dont know what im looking for. The words that ioen up the information in this matrix hellbthta has the potential of completly brainwashing people as a means. The troubles of the future. In the aplication of technology for social emgenearing. Allowing for ease and mivro management i stead of purely macro management of social structure by governeing bodies.

Hey look, its my university press flow. Sadly asking for tarot in combination to universaty press. All you get is divination and meanings of cards. Probably no different then any other bookstore publisher on amazon of thrift or whatever. So thats not what im looking for. And theres no way around it.

If thats the case than australia has the right idea but are still too lenient. Children should

It have access to a smart phone. Or social media. Not until the legal age of adolences at the age of 21. Along with television requiring the reamergence of discipline in what it disseminates to the public. With an indepth explanation of what influences are being projected. What “social circles” it binds with an din what regard.

Our parents got loony toons bugsbunny the mesiah. We, we got sesame street. Literate, trashy, and queer. Bund the cooky monster to burt and erny. Meanwhile you got the woody wiodpecker pecking away at a tree singing “__________” in the mind of the baby boomers. Thats some twisted shit right there.

But instead its black froday and everyone is consuming tv and tablets and shit. This spectrum disorder bs has to go.

I couldnt do roofing. After a month ir so. I had tendinitis in both my wrists and both my knees hurt to the point i coulnd’t walk straight. And then they gave me a pgysiological spychosis. And now thats its 12 hour shift. While i only sleep for a couole hours a nighr means. I make o while lot less money.

Oh many years does it take to fuck with someone until they kill themselves. I guess ws’ll find out that andwer soon enough. Maybe i can tough it out some more until my next birthday. See where they’re leading me. And then being alive losses all will to survive. 40 fucken years man. Lol.

Wonder if andrew really did get a life sentence in prison for manslaughter after he beat me up. Everyone liked him. Its always someone twice my size or outnumber 100 to one. Now it seems ten thousand to one. I fucken hate life. Always on the receiving end of criminal fucken cocksukker s

I dont even want to try and live my life anymore. Theres nothing in it for me. Except the above. As its always been. Theres nothing else in life. Except how fucken retarded it is.

Lets hwt high and game and get abused online. My life purpose is to be victimized. And laughed at.

Understanding why weakens the will to act.

Card letter Тт. A man putting on armour. The follwoing card dont remember at moment. Is supposed to be connected to science. Etteilla card des dammes’ death card. Has a strong magic to it. Though only really works if the double Oo’s are kept as part of the image. Knwoing that its another letter complicates. But it flows nicely with the judgement card resting above it.

What do you feel? What do you say? In the end it all goes away.

[sainthelgas]

Buffy S1e02/s1e03 thoughts

"Are you jealous?" "Of xander? Hes "just a kid"

Buffy is the same age as Xander angel! I dont wanna being up the age thing a bunch cause in all honesty theres only so much to be said. But come on. I guess he means like maturity wise but also buffy isnt really that "mature". Shes just kinda been forced to grow up fast. Shes still got the mentality of a teenager for the most part. Its kinda easy to forget buffy is supposed to be like 16 in universw cause her actor is like an adult which makes the angel thing feel a little less weird. In reality the actors are like similar ages (20 and like 28, so not that aimilar but closer then in the show with her being 16 and him being born before the moving image) its just their characters who have a larger age gap so thats probably why people can look past it but I cant really. Moreso then the age gap i just dont really buy their chemistry.

Okay this show has a thing with having buffy being suffocated and or burried alive. I kinda knew that I think cause of isttg but its been a repeat theme. I wanna group in her being drowned with the suffocation thing. Its interesting. I guess its moslty cause of the vampire imagery

Okay cordelia is officially in the "whatre you losers up to" phase of her integration into the friend group. Which makes sense tbh she is in the intro.

Oh shit so it's like a Frankenstein sort of thing. I like that, i like that theyre kinda going thro8gh the general horror pantheon. We got like 3/6th of the universal mosnters. Weve had vampires, frankensteins, and an invisble girl which is close enough to the invisible man for me to count it. It also has like a pygmallion thing going on with them trying to build a bride, which is qlso kinda similar to bride of frankenstein with the "building the monster a partner" thing

What is eric gaining from any of this? Was he just peer pressured into doing this? If so he seems way to eager. Oh wait hes kinda like the Igor I guess. Which would make chris the dr. Frankenstein fill in.

AND IT ENDS WITH THE BUILDING BURNING WITH THE MONSTER INSIDE. there is no way this isnt a purposeful frankenstein thing. Delightful

S2e03

Because of being slight almost spoilered i have some idea of what happens over the next few seasons. The names spike and tara are kinda floating aroung in my head. So i have this little guessing game when a new character pops up if theyre tara and or spike or not. So far all have heen wrong. That vampire guy who was smoking a fat dart feels like a spike but Im probably wrong.

olay immediately after i added that they confirmed this is in fact, Spike. Im the smartest girl alive. I didnt imagine he would be british but I already like him a bit more then Angel. Even if hes kinda freaky.

Yeah even tho8gh he is pronably more objectively "problematic" and actively tries to being harm to buffy more often I still like hom better.

He called him an Uncle Tom?! What the fuck?! They kinda keep going back to this idea of vampyr discrimination. But im just gonna say now its not at all comparable to real world discrimination. Call me Vamphobic but I think that literaly demonic undead bloodauckers dont need to have the same benefit of the doubt as someone who happened to be born on the other side of the Mediterranean. Im not saying there are no vampires who can be genuine allies but I do think Buffy kinda being cautious around anfel is reasonable.

I love how the characters rationalise the shit that happens to them. Sure thats a gang on Pcp. I need to myself some pcp apparently.

Okay cut that cause principal snyder kinda implied he has at least some idea the stuff thats been happening has been supernatural. I dont know if he knows theyre vampyrs specifically cause thats kind of a leep. Legitamitely what answer could someone come to in this situation that would make sense. Honestly I think snyder is my favorite background character because of how much he represents the pov of the common man in this universe.

[dadkisser15]

Im craving this boy in so many ways

I wanna feel him so bad and just hold him close. My head is aching and I feel like the only thing that could soothe this ache is the sound of his intensely sweet voice, his precious laugh and how I would do almost anything right now to just hear him. It makes me almost emotional how much I miss it, maybe it’s the fact that I’m a little tired and probably going to be menstruating soon but even if those things weren’t in the picture I’d still be feeling this way! I’m probably just being dramatic but god it feels like it’s been ages, like literal fucking decades and I just need him. I don’t wanna bother him or anything with my whining because I feel as if it’s staring to get annoying but sometimes I really cannot help myself, I’m a very expressive person in so many ways and I also don’t like lying so when I do It’s kind of obvious that I am; so I can’t lie to myself and just PUSH this feeling inside of me and just not do anything about it!!!!!!!! Oh, which reminds me I was overthinking so bad earlier while I was just playing some stupid game and well firstly, the overthinking stunted my performance greatly and it just made me really sad. I wont write out what I was thinking of but I’m still kinda worried about it I’m trying really hard to just brush it off because it isn’t like a big deal but I’m a jealous girl and this is eating me up. Like, I can’t really complain to anyone about it because in my opinion the problem is so minuscule that it would make me appear as just CRAZY or just super dramatic which I know I am but I don’t wanna FEED into that ! I wish I didn’t feel this way at all because it doesn’t feel normal, well it’s the norm for me but I know this isn’t a normal thing. Am I suffering from some sort of mental illness? Oh, we will never know. All I know is jealousy isn’t a pretty look yet I wear it constantly, can I help myself? No, I cannot. Sadly, I cannot be nonchalant and just not care about stuff because I care about everything and more. I wonder if he ever feels like this, probably not because I don’t think he HAS things to be jealous of ! (I have like no fucking friends) He’d probably claim that I wouldn’t either but ☹️😭 oh gusy I can’t even ufkcing say it I wanna cry

LIKE DO YOU SEE THIS I DIDNT even write it out or anything but thinking about it is bringing me to tears. WHY AM I SO DRAMATIC 😭!!!! Like what is wrong with me, I wish my brain was like a sponge so I could squish all of this feeling out and just be a clean sponge again because I hate this feeling so much, Ihate jealousy it is literally the worst feeling EVER. In my stupid what if scenario I made up in my head earlier while overthinking I was like, “oh, if this happens I could just pretend like everything is okay and act like how i normally act!” And yeah I can do that but it’ll make things hard for me, when I get upset about something i usually just cannot stop thinking about it so the longer I pretend everything is just fine and dandy the harder it is for me to eat, sleep or just feel like doing stuff that I’m supposed to be doing. I just think about this often, why do people lie about unnecessary things? I don’t understand what’s the point!!! It just annoys me when I’m painfully aware of something but I have to pretend as if I’m ignorant to the truth, it really just upsets me. I feel like I’m going to cry right now because I’m thinking about this stupid thing again OH AND GREAT I AM CRYING!!!!

I feel like all of this worry and anxiety is also just tied down to the fact that I am so incredibly insecure about myself. I constantly tell myself not to compare myself to others and I even give that advice to others but I do it so often, I do it to the point I feel sick of myself and just everything about me. Why can I not follow my own advice and why do I put myself in positions where I can compare myself? I don’t know, it’s not like doing those things will better myself. Maybe motivate but there’s better ways to do that. Envy is not a great way to motivate yourself, it makes me feel sick. Sorry, tumblr for my self deprecating tangent but I’m just writing what comes to mind and I guess that right now I’m just really feeling it, I feel like need to be reassured but who’s going to reassure me ? What do I even need reassurance for?!! That I don’t even know either but I crave comfort and reassurance and it makes me sad knowing I don’t know who to rely on for things like that. I think I’m a bad person for feeling this way, for feeling envious of some girl who could literally care less. It probably means nothing yet I am so jealous and I’m overthinking about it. It makes me mad that I’m so worried over some random when they’re literally happily living their life like what the fuck is wrong with me. Genuinely.!! I want to just extract this from my mind and forget about it and I wish I wasn’t so curious at times because I’d be better off just being oblivious.

Guys I’m probably going to cry myself to sleep over some dumb shit again so I’m done writing 😜