#it should make ppl stop questioning ppl with long nails

[maximura]

Oh Sha’Carri Richardson has finally won a Gold medal, justice for people judging her appearance and personal life choices. And Imane Khelif won her Gold, and had the other competitors supporting it. And shout out to that Chinese diver Yani who looked physically injured and ill but came from 7th place to get 3rd, after a disastrous first dive. And the Australian Stingers who defeated the reigning champion USA water polo team in a penalty shoot out. True grit, honestly.

[honeytonedhottie]

Dear honey ,I love you blog it’s so cute and helps me with my health.

Three questions please

how to stop felling insecure ?

How to have a healthy lifestyle, physically, ‘mentally emotionally and spiritually?

YouTubes and Podcast you recommend

thank you xoxo🌸

thank u so much for the amazing questions, also, THE VISION BOARD IS SO GOOD <33333 thank u for loving my blog that means the world to me. now unto ur three AMAZING questions;

INSECURITY - when it comes to insecurity there's a vast amount of places that u can start but the first place to start is your mouth. what comes out of ur mouth is a reflection of who you are. ppl that are smart will build opinions on u based on what comes out of ur mouth. ur words have POWER, dont let ur negative words become ur reality. speak positively on urself, STOP the negative self talk, dont make urself the topic of jokes and dont ever EVER speak negatively about yourself. bcuz even if ur like "its just a joke" you will subconsciously start to believe it.

stop comparing urself to others, the only competition is between the person u are today, and the person that u were yesterday. practicing self care is so good for ur mental and physical well-being. it can give u a sense of confidence, but ultimately the confidence that'll last will come from within u and that will RADIATE. practice saying no and put urself first ALWAYS. (self concept work is also super helpful when ur building ur confidence)

i want u to get to the root cause of ur insecurity, and why u feel that way. for some ppl they are insecure bcuz of the way that they look, or the way that they talk, the way people perceive them, it could be a LOT of different factors that contribute to why u feel insecure but i just want u to identify them. then DISMANTLE them. flip the narrative. for example if ur insecure about ur looks; you'd take a hard look at urself in the mirror and i can GUARANTEE that you are BEYOND BEAUTIFUL. start looking for things that u love and like and MAXIMIZE on those things. tell urself constantly that ur gorgeous and it'll become a belief. if ur surrounded by ppl who constantly belittle u then u need a new circle of ppl to surround urself with.

(ik that this is SUCH a long paragraph but i can elaborate on it further in a separate post if its something that u wanna discuss more)

HEALTHY LIFESTYLE - im separating this into parts

physically - start moving. it could be doing pilates or yoga, or literally just taking a walk but u should just be MOVING. fueling ur body with nutritious foods and staying hydrated. taking care of ur health by eating balanced meals and snacks throughout the day. listening to ur cravings, taking care of ur skin and ur hair and ur nails etc etc. taking care of urself from head to toe and from the inside out. once u prioritize ur physical and like, self care you will look and feel SO GOOD

mentally - listen to podcasts and consume content that makes u feel good about urself and pushes u to become the best version of urself. sleep can greatly improve ur mental state, stimulate ur mind and cultivate ur passions and talents. educate urself (knowledge is powerful) about anything that interests u and the world around u. PAY ATTENTION IN SCHOOL (if ur in school) and constantly stay in a place of learning. surround urself with people who are diverse and whose experiences and worldviews are different from yours so that u can learn from others.

emotionally - start journaling, when u feel emotions, identify them and take care of urself accordingly, meditate and become more mindful of urself and those around u. if u have the means, invest in therapy, however if u dont, start journalling, doing shadow work, and we have SO MANY resources to start our healing journeys. like youtube for example. take advantage of that <3

spiritually - if ur talking about religious spirituality, then read ur religious texts and study that so that u can grow and get deeper in ur faith. start making time to pray as many times a day as u should, and focusing on building a relationship with the god/gods that u believe in. watching content from people who share the same faith and religion as you can help u become more confident in ur religious identity AS YOU SHOULD BE <333 if ur not talking about religious spirituality..

start meditating and take part in other mindful practices, avoid negative people and negative energies, connect with nature and the world around u, cultivate gratitude, if u feel like u should u should def invest in some crystals and things of that nature. i dont know much about spirituality in this specific sense so please feel free to teach or add onto this in the comments so that we can all learn from each other <3

YOUTUBES AND PODCAST RECCS -

the wizard liz

manifestelle

manifest it finesse it

simone squared

persephones mind

shera seven

simone simmo

THIS WAS SO LONG BUT I HOPE THAT IT WAS HELPFUL TO YOU AND EVERYONE ELSE <3333333333 i will definitely elaborate on these topics in the future 💗

[crazyalien87]

Wow.

What the fuck. Honestly.

The point of my damn post is that gnc men get shamed for being gnc and some may feel they are not allowed to consider themselves men and have to consider themselves not men due to that. The point was to spread acceptance of gnc people, not to spread hate against nonbinary people. Also, it was based on a post that said basically the same thing but for women. I just wanted to spread the gnc acceptance for men as well.

Also, i barely even remember that post about graffiti about testosterone. Im not gonna look it up rn bc i dont care and you obviously care about my own damn posts more than i do (weird, innit?). I think the points made on that post, at least the ones i tried to show agreement to, were: 1) it is a blatan ripoff of "dump him" graffiti and 2) taking testosterone is a serious decision and not something that should get rushed into based on a graffiti. Although, now that I think of it, isn't dumping someone a big decision also? Regardless, I certainly don't mean to imply that transitioning or being trans is bad by any means.

Also, that first paragraph of yours is rich. /s "gender questioning AFAB people who chose not to transition" uh you mean me? Im bisexual AND pansexual, what you have to say about that?

also, seriously? "How would you feel about a post like this about women who choose not to get married or have children, saying it makes the colorful diversity of wives or mothers lesser?" Nah that comparison makes no sense bc it implies that these women were wives or mothers before or at least seen as that but then stopped being wives or mothers or said that they weren't wives or mothers before. Like idk maybe if ur example was about women getting divorced or giving up their kids for adoption, then it would make sense. But even if they stop being wives or mothers they still WERE wives or mothers. But if a gnc man says "im too feminine to be a man so i must be nonbinary" then it implies: 1) he was never a man and 2) other men are not allowed to be feminine and still be men. A woman getring a divorce and thus not being a wife anymore doesn't imply that other women have to divorce. A woman giving up her kids for adoption or just not having kids in the first place doesn't imply that other women have to do the same.

"How would YOU feel in a nonbinary person made a post like this about cis GNC people?" I would think they are being incredibly sexist for implying that a masculine woman is not a woman or that a feminine man is not a man. Do you not think that? Are you seriously trying to tell me that basic feminist ideas of "gender roles are sexist and bad and women/men shouldn't be defined by them or forced into them" is transphobic? What kinda crack you smoking? Are you gonna hate on feminine trans men and masculine trans women now?

"Here, an exact variation of your post: Every time an unconventional person, a feminine person, a person with long hair and painted nails, a person with pink hair, a trans4trans, jumps ship and identifies as cis (but only out of obligation to stay gnc), the portrait of transness becomes a little less colorful. There’s room for all of us here. Stay. You would find it gross. " No I wouldn't bc idk who tf you are talking about. Do you mean like a t4t trans woman who id as a cis man bc she felt obligated to stay gnc? Huh?!? is t4t gnc or something? Who is obligating her to be a cis gnc man and not a trans woman? Wouldnt that be a transphobic person? Just like someone obligating a gnc man to identify as not a man is a sexist person?

"This is exactly the same language used to shame Elliot Page for transitioning. The “lost lesbian”. This is exactly the same language used to shame trans people of ALL identities ALL the time. Trans people are not lost lesbians or lost women or lost men or lost gays or lost daughters or lost sons or whatever. We are FOUND. " Brooooooo Im not truing to shame ppl for transitioning! What are you on?! This post was just trying to fight gender roles oh my goddd I thought the title made it clear enough but noooooo im up past 3am bc im responding to ur bullshit ohmygod i hateeee this website wtffff

"You don’t think it’s okay to encourage people to transition, but you do think it’s okay to shame people for transitioning. You think, and this is communicated very clearly no matter what you tell yourself, that a transgender life is a life less meaningful and less worth living than a cisgender one. " Wow why dont u just go fuck urself with these observations goddamn. i didnt go thru good chunks (HOURS) of yesterday and today stressin out over my damn bottom dysphoria and whether i should get bottom surgery jist to read ur wild ass accusations that i belive this shit about fellow trans ppl over 1 damn post about graffiti holy shit. "you should put more thought into whether to transition" doesnt mean "your life is lesser if u transition" holy shit!!?! No i mean it has side effects that u should consider like any medication! like should u write "just take that adderall" on a bathroom wall to advertise to ppl wiyh adhd to take it? no they gotta like discuss side effects with their docs and shit. and yeah maybe that post was a bit overbaord bc it is just bathroom graffiti but goddamn! i wasnt tryin to shame! Just tryin to take this shir more seriously my god.

"Transphobic as anything I have ever seen in this world. " Ive seen ppl send death threats to trans ppl on fucking Quora but yeah sure my "men can be feminine" post is the most transphobic thing ever😒. /s fuckin get over urself and ur damn obssession with my tumblog holy shit dude grow up it aint that bad.

"Transgender and nonbinary people do not owe it to anyone to identify as cisgender. It doesn’t matter how GNC they would be as cisgender people." have u no fucking reading comprehension? Goddamn my post was aimed at cis men who feel pressured to id as nonbinary due to sexist gender roles. Im trying to convert trans ppl & nonbinary to ppl to cis gnc ppl!!?! why would i even do that? tf

"Trans identities are not less colorful than cis identities" 🤦‍♀️🤦‍♀️🤦‍♀️🤦‍♀️🤦‍♀️🤦‍♀️🤦‍♀️🤦‍♀️🤦‍♀️🤦‍♀️🤦‍♀️🤦‍♀️ ohmy FUCKING god. the post says "MANHOOD" woudl be less colorful not that nombinary people are less colorful! U idiot that implies that nonbinary ppl are MORE colorfuk bc they are taking their colorfulness away from manness by putting it in nonbinary ppl instead! Or something! Idk bru h iwas just ripping off someon's else's post bruh why u taking the "colorful" thing is seriouslt dawg😭it's not that deep holy shit. The point is that if cis gnc men id as not men bc they are gnc it implies that men can't be men so then there are less ways men can be (bc it makes gnc be not one of those ways) and each of those, uh, ways, is a color so now there are less colors (gender expressions) that men can have. And again this is purely about those who say shit like "Im feminine so im not a man actually".

TL,DR: you're a fucking dumbass bro i just said that men can be feminine and shit like "i like makeup so im not a man" is so sexist bruh im not against trans ppl bruh but bein trans is not about sexist stereotypes/gender roles bruhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh

also that grafiti post is not even related to this but uhhhhhh that post may have overstepped but i dont remember it enough to care

Infographic about how gnc men can still be men and if a male/amab person id's as nonbinary only due to being gnc that is bc of sexism and they can still id as cis man if they want

This is an edit of the original from this post, which is the same but opposite, it is about gnc women who think they aren't women enough. I posted it in a reblog, but thought it deserves its own post as well.

To be clear, I am not against nonbinary people. I'm just not against gnc cis people either, and I hipe to help people reocgnize the differences between them.

[bluecookies02]

Shigaraki x Shy!Reader-NSFW

Summary: your pinning is driving Tomura crazy. Instead of reading it as your admiration for him, he is under the impression that you are disgusted by him.

warnings: tears, eating out, blowjob, embarrassment, deepthroating...

my image was taken down so have this as a replacement ( i had to post this all the ver again bc it got flagged and it had like 400/500 votes 😔)

/masterlist/

«────── « ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ » ──────»

If you stare at him long enough, maybe he'll develop an ability to read your mind and ask himself out on a date?

Right? Righttt?

"The fuck are you staring at, you creep" he would turn his head away, leaving the bar area and going to his room.

Your head would slam nose first into the table, cursing yourself out under your breath.

"Keep it up and he'll think you've gone mute"

"Good." you mumble, fiddling the edges of the letter from your pocket.

Once you've calmed down you pull the latter out, staring at it.

Maybe you should just burn it to crisps, letters are cliche anyways...

"Want a drink?" Kurogiri mumbles pointing at the shelves behind him.

You nod, making your way to your favorite tequila brand, not even bothering to take salt or lemons, taking the whole bottle to your room.

Kurogiri sighs, cleaning up the countertop of his bar.

His hand freezes over the later you carelessly left.

He knows what it is, you've been crying over it for weeks on end.

He'll deal with your scoldings later.

The letter falls through the portal, softly hitting the keyboard Shigaraki was currently playing on.

Meanwhile, you're sat in your room, the bottle kinda forgotten since your sobs made it too hard to chug the liquid down.

Why do you always fall for the emotionally unavailable boys? Is it a curse?

The knock on your door snaps you out of your self-pity, collecting yourself and wiping your tears away.

"Come in" you mumble, trying to seem uninterested while scrolling through your phone.

"Now tell me, is it yours? Or is someone just fucking with me?"

The yell makes you jump up, your shoulders stiffening.

You look up, just to be met with your angry boss, gripping your letter with four of his fingers.

"Fucking speak, what the fuck is your problem, it's a yes or no question!"

You bit down at your lip, tears threatening to spill again.

You nod your head, taking a deep breath.

"Yes, please leave now."

As your gaze is stuck on the floor underneath his shoes, you notice the small speckles of dirt swaying towards the floor.

You look up at his hand again, your letter now gradually falling apart.

The sting in your chest burns up through your throat, the tears now spilling as your muffle your cries with your duvet, biting on it as hard as you can.

Shigaraki never had any experience with this.

He had never seen a person hurting because of him( well in this way at least ).

He was never the one to comfort someone else.

He didn't know how since he was never treated with kindness himself.

Nonetheless, he made his way to the bed, nudging the fabric away from your face.

You instinctively closed your eyes, afraid that if you see his expression again, you would literally fall apart.

His rough thumb dipped under your chin, the skin of his hand scratching at your soft flesh.

"Did you mean it?"

"Please stop torturing me, just leave, I'll pack my stuff later" you choked out, moving your head out of his grip.

He knew his actions were contradicting his feelings but he knew he was ready to try, for the sake of the only relationship he'll possibly have.

The possibility of anyone but you liking his damaged ass was almost nonexistent.

And if he was honest with himself, he always had a thing for you.

At first, he thought it was just because he found you unbearably hot, your thighs grabbing his attention each time you crossed his path.

But after he had seen you all bruised up and wrecked after fights, he realized he didn't really care how your body looked like.

"I like you too"

Your cries suddenly come to a stop.

"The fuck did you just say?"

"I said I like you too"

Your eyes found his, your brows furrowed as you huffed.

"You could've just told me that before you destroyed my letter and made me cry my soul out" you scoffed, folding your arms to your chest and staring at the wall on the far end of the room.

His face was now incredibly close to yours, the look on his face was unreadable.

When he was in his teenage years, he found himself sleeping around with a couple of lowlifes, the only thought on his mind was getting his dick wet (surprisingly there existed ppl desperate to have sex with anyone and everyone)

Now that he's supposed to actually kiss someone, he's terrified of fucking it up and making a fool of himself.

"Kiss me." he demands, his hand touching your cheek.

It takes you second to drop your "I'm offended act" as you gently place your lips over his.

His other hand carefully rests over your hip, invading your space as he pushes his lips harder against you.

Once things get heated up, you notice the way Tomura's hands shake against the hem of your shirt, his lips still greedily swallowing up every whimper that escapes you.

"We can go as slow as you'd like" you softly push him away, your soft palm rubbing against his cheek.

He buries his head into the crook of your neck as he slowly nods.

"Go ahead." you will him on, as he slowly pulls your shirt over your head.

The way he stares at your exposed skin makes your cheeks flush in embarrassment.

You try to hide your face behind your hands, but your action is interrupted once Tomura's fingers glide past your lips.

You lull your tongue out, making it easier for him to pump the digits down your throat.

His other hand kneads at your exposed flesh, enjoying the way your breath hitches around his fingers each time he glides or pulls onto the sensitive nubs.

His fingers leave your mouth, his tongue replacing them instantly.

His fingers glide down to your chest, playing with the bud between his fingertips, your own drool making them glide smoothly over the sensitive nerves.

You rub your thighs together, your pussy leaking onto your underwear, making them damp.

The material of your panties slides between your folds, adding a bit more friction as you moan into Tomura's mouth.

He stops to drink in the desperate movement of your hips and he grins.

The insecurity he felt a couple of minutes ago dissolved once he noticed your flush expression.

He kicks his shoes off, fully climbing onto your bed.

Your hands grab at his belt, the metal cooling down your heated skin.

You struggle with it as the thumping in your chest makes it hard for you to focus.

Tomura helps you take his pants off completely, kicking them off his feet.

You look up to see him biting his lip as he expectingly stares at you.

You lean down over his clothed bulge, your tongue licking over the small wet spot staining the fabric.

His hands move to clutch at the bedsheets once you

pull the cloth down.

Your pussy drools at the sight of his cock, the veins throbbing each time your breath ghosts over his dick.

You grab ahold of his cock, steading it as you start to slide him into your mouth.

The corners of your mouth burn as you struggle to take the whole length in, battling your gag reflex once you hear him groan out.

The taste of him slowly fades away as your spit coats his cock.

Your mouth experimentally glides up and down a few times, your lips getting used to the stretch.

You swallow around his cock, his hips stuttering up before he apologizes.

The rim of your mouth repeatedly slams against the fingers of your hand that's still clutching at his base.

His hand carefully wraps into your hair, following your movement, his hips instinctively snapping each time your throat contracts around him.

The thrusts of his hips become more violent by the second and you're sure your jaw's gonna hurt after this.

The soft whimpers leaving his lips are the only thing making you fight the urge to slip your mouth off of him.

You dig your nails into his thigh, trying to steady yourself as his pace becomes sloppy and uneven.

"I d-don't-" he growls pushing your head away as his hips push into the air, his cock throbbing as he tries to clear his head.

You stare at him in confusion, gasping for air.

He feels like a simple additional touch could make his cock burst.

The tip of his dick is swollen and red, beads of precum spilling at his head.

"I want to make you cum so bad" he mumbles as he slides on-top of you, pushing your back into the mattress.

Your pants are slowly dissolved as he grabs the hem of it with his fingers, shooting you an apologetic look.

His hands push your thighs apart, revealing your ruined panties.

The low grumble in his throat makes your walls flutter.

Once your underwear is pushed to the side, his tongue is reaching out to collect the liquid into his mouth.

The satisfying groan that vibrates into your pussy makes your cheeks heat up all over again.

His fingertips are carefully dipping into the flesh of your thighs as he pushes your legs to their limit, giving him full access to your cunt.

His licks are slow and timid, his mind focusing on each sound you make.

Once his tongue is buried into your pussy and his nose nuzzled into your clit, your hands gripping at the base of his neck.

He's pushing it in and out of you, listening to your broken out praises.

"T-thank you, thank y-you, please don't stop, p-please."

His cock is rubbing against your sheets as he lapping all over your cunt.

"Touch yourself " he demands as he focuses on pushing his tongue deeper into you.

Your hand goes to your puffy clit, his spit making your fingers glide over with ease.

Soft moans leave his mouth each time he swallows, his hips find a steady pace as he waits for you to lose yourself.

The knot in your belly tightens as you suck in a deep breath, your orgasm making you push your hips up into Tomura's mouth, his hands still pushing at your legs, not letting you close them around his head.

Your legs began to shake under the pressure, his licks not slowing down.

You try to wiggle your hips out of the way, but he just looks up at you with a threatening gaze.

Once tears begin to roll down your cheeks, he is satisfied enough to let go of you.

His mouth leaves your pussy with a wet "pop" sound.

You look down at your bedsheets to find them completely ruined.

You let out a small laugh, making Tomura feel guilty for making himself look like a pervert.

You pull him down to lay next to you, gently trailing your fingers down his skin.

"Don't worry about it, it's fairly erotic" you reassure him as he buries his face in your chest.

"I'm not embarrassed " he huffs out hiding his face even more.

"Yeah, never said you were" you mumble, comfortingly scratching his head.

You'll have to thank Kurogiri in the morning.

___________

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@fairlyathleticquailssince1988

[rev3rb]

Aaaaah! Hi again. Wow. I did not expect that big of a fight between Ashera and Yu. I feel bad for Ashera, he’s so confused about if anyone else truly has his and Krul’s best interests at heart. I mean clearly the First only uses ppl as pawns, and while I’m sure Yuu does want to save everyone, as any heroic protag does, but if that’s not an option he will 100% settle for just Mika. It was lowkey funny watching Ashera call him out for it. For Mika, Yuu’s logic and morals literally go out the window, immediately lmao. Like wdym you’re gonna fight for Mika’s life even when you’re dead?? Be fr bro. It kinda makes me want Yuu to get his way just to see how he actually plans to accomplish this.

And I’m also excited that they’re continuing to address the core debate of whether one should let humans die. It’s interesting to see characters argue that life is not inherently better than death.

Hey! I intended to answer this early when you sent it as I saw the notif, but I was trying to avoid spoilers for another manga... not that that worked :) But anyways!

Yeah, honestly I didn't either. I thought either Yu or Ashera would get stopped before much could happen, but I guess I was wrong! Though, it doesn't seem like it will last much longer.

I also feel bad for Ashera. This chapter made his character grow on me a lot. As you say, he's really struggling, and I liked when he acknowledges that he's really made nothing but mistakes up to this point. I wouldn't necessarily agree with him, but it really shows that he's just doing his best. He's not perfect. He's willingly been The First's pawn, and it hurts to see him used and then thrown away like this, even if it does mean that he will now likely be aligning with Krul (and Guren and crew).

As for Yuu, I don't know. I wouldn't be surprised if he did want to save everyone because, as you said, he's a heroic shonen protag, but the story is really pushing us as the audience to believe that he's going to choose Mika over everyone else. Both are in line with his character. It all just becomes a question of how he'd do that. Other than some nonsense (deserved or otherwise) with his seraph abilities, saving everyone, Mika included, seems impossible. I guess only time will tell. Regardless of what he picks, I feel it's safe to say that it will have to involve Mika also being saved, bc yeah. As you point out logic and morals go out the window when it comes to Mika. I'm quite sure Yuu doesn't even have a plan at the moment and is just in 'they wanna take my Mika away. I won't let them' mode right now. He's a very "I'll wing it and I'm sure it will work out" kind of person. If he does have a plan then kudos to him I guess. I'd also be interested to see what that plan is.

Regardless, yeah. This all puts Ashera in an awkward spot, and I'm glad to see that he's done willingly being someone else's pawn and is trying to forge his own path to salvation.

The debate that life isn't inherently better than death has been a concept that's been floating around in OnS for a long time now and yeah. It's great to see it continue. Really, if anything, OnS seems to say that dying is easy; it's living that is hard. Specifically, living without those you care about, which plays into Krul's 'I'm fine as long as I have you Ashera'. Then again, really, OnS shows us that dying and living isn't what's terrible. Rather, it's not having the choice of whether you live or die. Dying without being able to live (aka being killed [look I'm trying to be poetic here]) and living without being able to die both suck. You don't truly understand that until you've experienced it for yourself. ... or maybe I'm just trying too hard to be deep...

Anyways, as a last note, something about The First being nailed down to a truck bed as the vampires drive around made me laugh harder than it should have. And that truck bed is massive??

Thanks for once again sending an ask!

[free-falling-grenade]

OK. I want to knw your STANCE. I've seen ppl post abt Raya being jealous when people are around Namaari & flirting. Bt i think its WAY more effective if it were the opposite. Coz Raya, god forbid, alone for all those years, has no fucking clue how drop dead gorgeous she is. How flexible, & athletic this binturi is. So NATURALLy, everyone would be falling head over heels. What if they were in Fang & she's jst surrounded by people fawning over her. Namaari's just seethes in jealousy!!

I completely agree with you, anon. I think coz Raya’s lack of social experience, she doesn’t really get it when people are flirting with her. Maybe she sees it as them being polite coz she is a princess from another land so she just takes it into stride. It does make her slightly uncomfortable to get all the attention though.

Imagine this:

Raya is in Fang, walking around with Namaari till a group of children in the garden ushers for the princesses to join them, they of course listen. The children then asks Raya if she can do any “cool tricks” as they demonstrate what they meant by that on this slightly small but impressive looking obstacle course on the park/garden for kids to play and practice on. There are adults watching, assuming parents and teachers intrigued whether Raya would agree to the children’s request. 

Just as Namaari was about to turn the ‘kittens’ down politely, Raya just excitedly agrees, saying it looks fun and totally can pull off something to show them. She then gets pulled off to the course while the Fang princess stands there just as curious what Raya is going to do. 

Raya stretches her limbs then with some high fives from the children, she dashes to the obstacle course. Everyone around her watches how she expertly hops on the stumps, swings herself fluidly on the bars and spinning majestically midair as she lands on perfectly poised on the floor. She swiftly climbs up on the taller bar instead of swinging on it, then leaping off to end the course with an elegant backflip causing the crowd around her that had gathered to watch to burst into an applause. 

Namaari bites her bottom lip, always impressed by the other princess’ flexibility. She watches her get crowded by a bunch of excitable children and adults, complimenting her skills and bombarding her with a series of questions. She sees her humbly laugh away their comments. Suddenly, a group of men and women around their age approaches the Heart princess, some of them latching on sneaky touches on the guardian’s exposed biceps, or tussling the ends of her long wavy hair in their fingers. 

She observes the flutter of eyelashes of some Fang women as they inched themselves closer to the princess, whispering in her ear causing the shorter girl to blush. A predatory growl leaves her lips, low enough to not be heard but enough to shock herself. She notices the way her heart twist uncomfortably at the sight of others feeling up the princess, her own fist balled up tightly, nails almost piercing through her palm. Her own glare useless as no one paid attention to the fuming princess standing on the sidelines. 

She’s about to parade off angrily when she meets Raya’s gaze, the dark honey brown eyes pleading for help, a goofy grimace etched on her face as she laughs off whatever they people around her were saying. Warmth spread through her body, anger and jealousy washing away as she strides towards her direction and waving off everyone else as formally as she can without biting anyone’s head off.

“As impressive as the Heart princess’ display was on a children’s course” the joke eliciting a playful nudge on her side, “Show time is over, I need the princess for important things” She curses herself inwardly for her lack of reason. 

Thankfully, everyone aww’d and respectfully start to disperse away. A few ladies hanging around them still, one of them directly looking at the Heart princess, “You should stop by our food stand. Food’s on the house for a beautiful lady like you”

Namaari taken aback at the outward flirting right in front of her and the audacity of the Fang merchant, she opens her mouth to say something back but she feels an arm curling around her own, Raya interlocking their hands gently. She feels her heart leap to her throat.

“Thank you for the offer! The Princess and I will stop by whenever we can” the Heart princess replies casually. 

The hurt look and realization crosses the merchant’s face, eyes widening slightly. She bows respectfully spluttering her goodbye before leading away with the group of girls trailing behind her.

Raya sighs in relief, leaning closer to the Fang princess, “So many people.” She huffs out, “Thanks for the save, dep la” she says looking up at her grinning. 

Namaari blinks blankly back, “Are you aware they were flirting with you?” She dares to ask.

Raya just tilts her head in confusion, “Flirting? I thought they were just being polite and offering me food” She shrugs thinking back to their interaction. 

The warrior looks at her incredulously. Realization hits Raya and a playful smirk grows on her lips, “Are you jealous?” 

The flustered look of the Fang princess says it all. She tries to pull away and feigning a scowl for being caught, embarrassment seeping through her skin, but the other princess just pulls back forcefully, her grip on their joined hands tightening.

“Don’t worry, dep la. My eyes are only for you” Namaari just groans in mortification as she leads them away from the garden, hands still intertwined but not bothering to look back at the teasing look on the princess’ face.

-x-

This was lowkey fun to write LOL.

[curly-bangtan]

Heatwave Drabble #9: sweet night (M)

[Heatwave // Godless // Heatwave Drabbles] <- must read first!

Pairing: Taehyung x reader

Summary: After a series of miscommunications and immaturity that lead to a rip through both your friendship and ambiguous relationship, this last turn of events could be the deciding factor of whether or not you’ve lost each other from your lives forever.

Genre: angst, smut, fwb au, roommate au, f2l

Warnings: SO much angst and feels, slight slow burner and a lot of build up, unprotected sex, hot tub, oral (m&f), food play, crying, i don’t want to give too much away eeee

Word count: 23.8k a monster i know ;-;

A/N: The end is finally here!! It’s late but trust me when I say I worked all day on this and did not do an ounce of revision today because I wanted to get this done. I’ve been writing this series, and this ending in particular, for so long and have been so nervous about getting this perfect. So please enjoy~

(quite a few ppl also couldn’t be tagged from the taglist and it’s 3am so i honestly dk how to fix it ;-;)

.

You used to think heartbreak was for the weak, after all you can only hurt as much as you let yourself be hurt. So... maybe you are weak. Because that ever-constricting ache in your chest has not diminished even a bit since that day you left him.

Four weeks. Not a word to each other.

It’s a hollowing feeling - someone you’ve had in your life every day for the past few years, a constant companion, suddenly completely absent in a blink of an eye. You don’t think you could put it into words even if you tried how this affected you. Life feels so foreign, your personality dulls.

The anger you felt for him dissipated quicker than you’d anticipated, but the anger at yourself only grew. No matter how you look at it now, you can only see it as being your fault.

But the decision to part ways was for the best, you have to keep reminding yourself. You shouldn’t be around each other anymore.

Whenever you see him around campus, you spin around and speed off the other way, hoping that he doesn’t see you too. Okay, you are weak, okay. But your heart twists at the sign of him, not just squeezes but twists into thorned knots. It’s the sort of pain that takes from you, makes you a different person unrecognisable to yourself.

You had moved in with Lotta. When she asked you what happened, all you had said was that you two had a massive fight and fell out. She knew better than to prod further from the telltale signs that you were close to tears from a simple question: the trembling throat, pursed lips, uncharacteristically quiet voice. And you were grateful because you knew you couldn’t afford to be asked about him without breaking.

The bed feels awfully cold in the nights of early February. And every night, you stare at his name on the screen of your phone, contemplating. One tap and you can hear his voice. One tap and your longing could be absolved. You always almost give in to this overpowering urge itching within your fingers. But you wouldn’t even know what to say to him.

Hi. How are you. I miss you like crazy and I think about you everyday but I know we should keep our distance but I’m just so sorry for everything.

You liked to think that maybe this break is just temporary, you both need space from each other because the toxicity built up so quickly that neither of you could think or breathe. But the longer time is spent away from him, the more you convince yourself that it wasn’t meant to be. It was never going to work; you knew this from the start but had been too optimistic.

And the mistakes you both made… You can’t forget them and the scars you’ve left on each other; you don’t think he’d be able to forgive you, not any time soon anyway.

You wonder if he’s doing the same, if he too is agonising over every wrong step he took to lead you two to this state, or if he’s cursing you for destroying everything. For his sake, you hope he’s moving on. Because that, for some reason, feels so much better than knowing that he’s crying over you.

The strange thing is that you had been the one to break things off. The look of lostness in his red-rimmed eyes laced with an unmissable reluctance will always be an enigma to you. Because he was furious, distraught. So why was he shocked by your ending? How was he not done with you?

That day you left, he wordlessly stood next to you as you packed your things. When you handed him his grey hoodie, the one you had gradually claimed as your own under mutual tacit agreement over your months together, it had truly felt like the end.

“Are... Are you sure? I don’t mind if you keep it.” He had said, voice raw from the arguing but also the tears he was fighting back.

You couldn’t look at him, you knew you would fall apart if you did. “I think it’s best if you take it back.” Why did he want you to keep it anyway?

Something was missing in both your voices when you spoke to each other, reflective of the heart-shaped void you had carved into the other. Everytime you think back to that moment, you want to kick yourself. You could have at least kept the hoodie - that way you could at least have a piece of him to cling onto in your lonely desperate nights.

Because now you have nothing. Nothing of his in your life, no reminder at all that he ever existed with you except the memories embedded so deeply in your heart that it hurts.

No one ever mentions him to you; you think they got the hint from Lotta not to. He’s a ghost.

Haunting you with his heartbroken eyes that shattered at the sight of Jimin. You’ll never forget that.

Sometimes, you’ll just be having dinner with her, and you’ll be crushed with this suffocating wave of missing him. It knocks the breath out of you. Because you can momentarily forget that it’s over, and mistaken Lotta as him. So when you look up and realise that it isn’t him, he’s not here, it’s as if someone is digging their nails into your scabbing wound and releasing the blood of your heartache once more.

And Lotta would look up and ask you, “What? Is the rice overcooked?” And you would want to cry because he would always overcook the rice.

And sometimes, you would just want to blurt it all out to her, right then and there. Tell her everything that had happened with you and him, because - god - keeping it inside is exhausting. But the words get trapped at your throat, unable to be enunciated. Which is just your forte, isn’t it? Not being able to say how you feel...

You are a competitive person, that has never been a secret. You are used to winning at everything you wish to win at, it is in your nature.

So losing Taehyung has been the biggest loss of your life. It had been a gamble from the start, whether it would work or not. There were so many signs pointing in the direction of yes, this is going to work, you love each other so much. Because still to this day, you believe that you are soulmates, and you were one step, three words, away from a happy ending. But then, caught up in this game you played, you hadn’t realised that he had been yours from the very start if you had only just accepted him. And that was your downfall: your failure to see his love for you in the form of his actions, rather than the words of validation you were seeking.

And thus, you had lost your lover, your best friend, your other half, completely of your own doing.

The realisation haunts you every night.

.

It’s Galentine’s Day. In this household, you don’t say the V word.

Lotta has booked a weekend trip to celebrate your mutual [forever alone] relationship status. Some strawberry farm in the countryside for friends to pick berries and make jam and bond over their mutual loneliness. Apparently that’s a thing nowadays.

It would have excited you before, a trip like this. The idea sounds much like a sweet attempt from her to cheer you up, (you haven’t been trying to hide how down you’ve been), so as much as you wanted to just wallow on this shitty holiday, you agreed to go with her.

And to be honest, this might be exactly what you need. A weekend away with your best friend away from the city could heal you. Best friend? Should you call her that? You’re not sure because that title has always referred to someone else previously, someone you shouldn’t be thinking about.

To your credit, you’ve been doing better. You think about him less and less each day; you stopped crying after the first week. You’ve always been a progressor with astounding growth. It’s not to say that you’re doing fine - that would be a reach - because small things such as a cup of hot chocolate would still remind you of him and the string of memories that come with it. But you think your heart is finally slowly starting to stitch itself back together.

Galentine’s weekend just so happened to fall on the weekend of Lotta’s Geophysics trip to Barcelona, as inconvenient as it is. But, rather than letting this disrupt her plans, Lotta had been adamant about going.

“My flight lands at 7am. That’s two hours before we are supposed to meet and depart from the coach station. That’s plenty of time.” She had waved away your concern when this topic of discussion came up last week.

“You never know with flight timings. We could just blow it off and have just as nice of a weekend at home watching movies.” Strawberry picking sounds great for the soul, but so does Netflix and ice cream. “We could have a Saw marathon like we’ve been wanting to.”

“Saw marathon on Valentine’s day?” Lotta scoffed at your suggestion

You blinked. “What’s wrong with that? We love scary films, it’s our thing.”

“It doesn’t matter, I’ve already paid for the trip and it’s non-refundable.”

“I’ll subsidise the cost, there’s no point forcing this trip if it won’t work with your schedule. You haven’t even let me pay you back for my half of the trip yet.” Lotta is like that with money, overly generous when completely unasked for. If you don’t mention paying her back, she would never have asked you to.

“It’s my treat to you, shut up. Just trust me, Y/N, I’ll make it to the coach on time, I always make it on time.” She shook you by the shoulders. “We’ll make our separate ways to the meeting point Saturday morning and everything else will go smoothly. There’s no reason to cancel the trip. Plus, V day is on Sunday, so do you really want to see all those shitty ass rom-com Netflix suggestions or would you rather be enjoying the great outdoors? Trust, we need a break in the countryside. It’s going to be an amazing weekend, you’ll thank me later.”

Right now, as you make a final check through your lightly-packed bag before you leave the house, you find yourself agreeing. You do need the fresh naturally strawberry-scented air to expel all these negativity from you. You want to feel yourself again, be happy and loud and excitable.

Collecting for your trip ticket that Lotta had left on your desk before she went to Barcelona, you decide right now that: yes, this will be an amazing weekend. Law of attraction and power of manifestation. Lotta’s flight will be punctual and you will make some fond memories together.

You’ll be okay.

You arrive at the meeting spot twenty minutes early because you are known to be prone to tardiness. The tour guide welcomes you keenly. He is a young, twenty-something you reckon, tall man, graced with dimples and honey skin. You think you would find him attractive in different circumstances, but you haven’t gotten to the stage of feeling attraction for anyone else yet.

“Your ticket with the barcode, miss?” His smile is charming, you guess. It’s more an observation than an enticing quality. You hand it over to him wordlessly and watch him scan the creased piece of paper. “Great, that’s perfect. And your partner?”

“Partner?” You frown, but realise what he means. This is a Galentine’s programme, of course he expects you not to be alone. “Oh, she should be coming, we came separately because she’s just getting off a flight right now.”

“Oh! That’s very sweet of her to rush back to spend this weekend with you.” The endearment in his smile heightens.

“Yeah… She’s the best.” There’s no particular reason for your awkwardness. You’ve always been a social butterfly, yet lately, you’re keeping more to yourself, avoiding unnecessary conversations because your mind is always too preoccupied.

“I am Jae, by the way, and I’ll be your guide for the weekend. I hope you have a wonderful time with us this Valentine's day. Hop on board.” Giving him a polite nod, you climb onto the empty bus, noting the swirly hearts beside the large red words ‘STRAWBERRY LOVE’ on the side of the big white vehicle. Kind of tacky, but the idea of this programme is kind of cute so you guess it’s suiting. After assessing row after row, you plop down at a window seat you deem worthy and settle your bag on the seat beside you, head leaning on the glass as you await your partner.

Dear partner, please don’t be late, you text her.

Soon, other participants of this trip start arriving, filing a crooked queue in front of the tour guide to register. You don’t pay much attention to them except to examine for Lotta’s face. The coach is set to leave at 9:00 on the dot in order to arrive at the farm at noon, it is now 8:56 and Lotta is still not here. You don’t want to lose faith in manifestation magic, but worry is settling in. If it comes down to it, you will beg Jae to wait for you. With your texts unread, you decide to phone her.

Come on… Just let this one weekend go smoothly for you.

Nervously playing with the ends of your hair, you exhale in relief when she picks up. “Oh thank god, Lotta. Where are you? The coach is leaving in like two minutes. You’ve landed right? I’m not sure if I can convince the people to wait for you that long but worse comes to worse, I could ask for the address of the farm and you can commute there yourself. ” A silence replies after your slur of panicked words. “Hello? Dude, hurry.”

“Wait, so he’s not there yet?” She asks hesitantly.

“Who? The tour guide? No, he’s here. Where are you?” Just then you hear a thunder of running footsteps. Expectantly, you look out the bus window for your friend’s arrival, only to find…

“Wait, Lotta… What the fuck did you do?” Something drops in your stomach.

“Look Y/N, don’t be mad. This is for your own good, you need this.” You can practically hear her stealthy smile through the phone.

An icy chill strikes down your spine. You simply cannot believe what you are seeing out the window. She-

“Lotta…”

“Trust me, okay? You have been so fucking depressed the past month. You need to fix this problem, please. I hate seeing you like this, so if not for yourself, then do it for me.” There’s some guilt in her tone, you’ll give her that. But you are in a state of utter disbelief, borderline shell-shocked, the groves of your brain tangled in itself.

“Lotta, where are you? Are you even fucking coming?” Absolute mortification fills your chest to the brim at your gradual realisation of her ploy.

This can’t be happening.

“I promise, this is all for your own good. Please have a great weekend. I love you. Bye!” And with that she hangs up, leaving you wide-eyed, jaw-dropped, staring out the window...

At a panting, slightly sweat-beaded Taehyung handing his crumpled ticket to Jae.

“Made it just in time, mate.” You can just about make out Jae’s words from the shape of his mouth as he greets Taehyung and proceeds to recite his ‘I’m your tour guide for the trip’ speech. Taehyung nods interestedly, reciprocating with that sheepish smile of his as he scratches the back of his bedhead.

What did your best friend do? Did she just… set you up…? As you hear his loud unmissable steps stomping up onto the coach, you know you’re doomed. It’s over for you. You might as well fling yourself off a cliff.

Looking around the bus, you realise that it of course is completely full except for the seat beside you.

The power of manifestation is fucking bullshit. You’re stuck with this bad luck for the rest of your life.

And this weekend, you’re going to die.

You see him as a blur at the start of the aisleway, a mere figure in swatches of peach and brown and black. You hear pounding, a booming pulse in your ear.

It’s Taehyung. Taehyung. Your, but also not your, Taehyung.

Each step he takes approaching the only available seat he sees, you shrink lower in yours and keep your eyes pressed shut, but for what reason you’re not entirely sure. There’s no hiding now.

Your confrontation is inevitable, a few steps away. Then he finally sees you.

“Y-Y/N?”

Your heart soars to your throat at the sound of his voice as everything around you vanishes. This can’t be real.

Slowly, you turn up to face him. When your eyes meet, it’s like someone has driven a sharp object into your chest and twisted. His face is exactly how you remember, but also not quite. His big brown eyes are wide with surprise in a pitiful expression of bewilderment. His sleep rumpled hair, grown out to almost cover his eyes, yet still very much permed in the style you loved. His lips are jutting out, slightly parted in confusion at your unexpected presence that reminds you of how it felt to kiss him.

And the look of disgust that you had expected - absent.

You want to throw your arms around him. There is always a warmth emitting from Taehyung - the kind of warmth you feel when you enter your house on a snow ridden day and the gust of heat accompanied by the smell of home simply swallows you like a wave. But there is also something different, unfamiliar almost, about him. He is rougher round the edges, hints of facial hair dotted below his nose, dressed in slacks that he only usually wore strictly as pyjamas and never to go outside in.

As your eyes fall to the rest of him, you notice his fists tighten around the straps of his backpack, the balls of his knuckles whitening.

“Taehyung-” Saying his name feels like a release. A rush of satisfaction at the way the syllables roll off your tongue so naturally, then a flood of emotion that comes with all the memories his name invokes.

Then you’re at a loss for words again. You are so utterly unprepared for this situation because you didn’t think you would meet him again so soon, not until you’ve moved on. You’re not ready to face him.

What do you say? How are you meant to act around him?

He looks equally as lost, though you read him easily. There’s a flash of hurt in his eyes, the same that you’re sure you had. But it dissolves much quicker with him, almost into relief and content as if he’s glad to see you.

You know from the slight downward angle his brows are pointing that he has definitely missed you. Perhaps in a completely different way from you missing him, but he’s missed you.

“If I could just have everybody's attention!” Jae’s voice booms from the speaker, startling every passenger. “Young man over there, please be seated.” You quickly snatch your bag into your lap to let Taehyung sit next to you. The seats aren’t the most spacious; despite pressing your side against the window as much as you can, Taehyung’s shoulder comes brushing past yours as he settles into his own seat. Your heart flutters. “As all our participants are now present, our ride will begin immediately. The duration of the ride will be three hours, but a pitstop will be made at around halfway for a quick snack or toilet break. Please ensure all seatbelts are fastened during the entirety of our journey...” He drones on.

Three hours, you bristle. Everything is happening all at once and your mind can’t catch up. You’re going to be stuck on this coach for three hours next to Taehyung. No, worse. You’re stuck with Taehyung for this whole weekend in a strawberry farm.

Glancing over, his lips are pressed into a thin line, no doubt with the same chaotic thoughts racing through his mind. There isn’t much leg room, and though his thighs are purposely clamped together to avoid touching you, you know he can’t keep them clamped this tightly for three hours without cramping. Your legs are going to touch at some point.

God, why are you even losing your mind over something so juvenile? You’ve been reduced to a pre-teen girl so easily flustered by the thought of touching thighs amidst this turn of events.

Everything is gonna be okay, you tell yourself. This is gonna be fine. You don’t have to speak to each other. Just put in your earphones and fall asleep against the window.

But you have so many questions, for Lotta, for Taehyung. Did she plan this? How did she know that he’d be here? Hell, did he know you’d be here? No, there’s no way. The shock on his face was genuine.

He stares ahead, though visibly extremely puzzled. You suppress the urge to glance over at him every second to check that it’s really him.

“Thank you everyone for joining us so promptly. As you already know, I am Jae and I will be the guide to your trip to our beautiful strawberry farm over this Valentine’s weekend.” You pause. Right, this is a Valentine’s weekend trip, you had momentarily forgotten. And you’re stuck with Taehyung here. Two days, two nights. You’re not sure if you could withstand his presence for that long. Will you ignore each other for the entirety of this trip? You would be fine with that, and in all honesty, you think you might prefer it over speaking to him because that would only sprinkle salt on your wound.

A sharp pain in your palm reminds you that you’ve been gripping onto the programme leaflet that was handed to you. You smooth out the creases of the paper and flip it open to skim through what you have to tackle ahead of you.

Day 1: Go strawberry picking with your partner at our scenic farm in the lovely spring weather while the sun is out. A heavenly spa awaits you afterwards to wind down and indulge together. For an amorous evening, go stargazing under our cloudless skies...

Alarm bells start ringing immediately, from the cursive font of the strangely-worded phrases, to the shades of reds and pinks of the background. You skim further down the page, the kernel of anxiety growing exponentially at your throat.

Day 2: Make delicious strawberry jam and learn our signature recipe for a splendid strawberry tart. When dusk falls, enjoy a romantic candlelit dinner with your partner amidst the symphonies of our string quartet.

Fuck. Wait, what the fuck.

You flip back to the front page.

Strawberry Love: The Perfect Couple’s Romantic Getaway Valentine’s Weekend

Strawberry… Love…

“What the fucking shit?” You can’t help but cry out loud. Lotta- She-

The passengers of the bus all turn to shoot you at look of concern at your outburst, Taehyung included. His eyes dart around the features of your face to search for an answer. “What’s wrong?”

What’s wrong… What’s wrong…? What isn’t wrong at this point?

You feel defeated, absolutely fucking defeated that you don’t even have it in your to be shocked or angry. There is no way you can ignore him for the whole weekend when the programme of your trip - a couple’s Valentine’s trip - obligates you to spend time with him. The thought of making stupid little strawberry tarts with Taehyung… Your blood can’t even boil, you’re just fucking speechless.

Lotta, that conniving genius that is your best friend. How did she manage to pull this all off? Galentine’s trip your fucking ass. She tricked you into a romantic holiday with Taehyung, fucking hell...

But that means - she knows. The mortification hammers into your stomach. There’s no reason for her to do this other than for the purpose of getting you two to make up. Lotta fucking knew about you and Taehyung.

How? For how long? And why does she think that this will benefit you in any way? You and Taehyung are over and you were slowly (fine, excruciatingly slowly) moving on. Until now.

Letting out a huff of your frustration, you turn to look at Taehyung, properly look him in the eye for the first time. You can’t stop your chest from constricting. He regards you with that confused expression of his, eyes holding your glare but barely just, bashful from your sudden undivided attention channeled towards him. “I need to know what you’re doing here first.” It comes out harsher than you mean for it to, but it stems from your desperation to stay inert while your emotional sanity is precariously threatened right now.

“Me? I… Well, Lotta told me that she had a ticket for this weekend-trip to a strawberry farm type thing that she couldn’t go to anymore, so she asked if I wanted to go in her place because she knows that I like strawberries.” He furrows his brows. “Okay, that sounds really stupid out loud but I swear I didn’t know that you were gonna be here.” He throws his hands up, nothing but honesty flooding his chocolate eyes.

But of course, Taehyung doesn’t lie, you are sure from the times you’ve witnessed him not being able to muster up an excuse to get rid of an annoying relative on the phone. What’s more convincing of his truth is that he would not be the most difficult person to fall victim to Lotta’s scheme - drizzle in mentions of food and he is completely your pawn. You almost feel bad for this unsuspecting fool; he still has no idea.

But Lotta, that sly bitch… You are going to wrangle her when you get back.

“Taehyung… She lied to you.” You sigh, watching his features slowly contort in deeper confusion.

“Wait what? So we’re not going to a strawberry farm?” He sits up in alarm, looking around the bus as if that would grant him any insight whatsoever. You almost laugh at his naivety because as much as you want to uphold your cold exterior, something about him, his ever present innocent boyishness maybe, never fails to penetrate through to you.

“No, that’s not what I meant. She lied to me too; she told me that this would be a girl’s trip because we’re both single and bitter for Valentine’s. Get it? It was just a setup. For you and me.”  As the clockwork finally turns as he processes your words, a visibly distressed grimace forms. “Look at the programme, Taehyung, it freaking says: Strawberry Love: The Perfect Couple’s Romantic Getaway Valentine’s Weekend!”

As those words resonate from your mouth and the realisation finally dawns on him, dread settles itself in the pit of your stomach, cold, dry and coarse. Saying it aloud somehow finalises it - this is actually happening, you’re going to have to spend this weekend with the one person you’d least like to be stranded with right now.

“Lotta… But why would she…?” Deep red roses effloresce across the apples of his cheeks, and you feel yourself unconsciously mirroring his reaction as your mind flashes back to the planned activities of this tour. You’ll be made to pick berries and bake pastries together. And the romantic candlelit dinner… You can’t even finish that thought. Because even now, you find your eyes roaming every inch of his face, trying to memorise his details because it’s been so long.

This isn’t healthy for your heart. You were on a path of recovery, a path of forgetting him and forgiving yourself, and now you’ve been flung back to square one.

The bus jolts. His leg lightly knocks into yours and both your attentions momentarily divert to the touch, glaring at where the thick grey material of his joggers meets the thin cotton of your trousers. A long second passes before Taehyung lifts it away from you.

“I don’t know why she’d do this. All I told her was that we had a massive falling out.” You mutter. Except you do know, you know her very well. This was no mistake, but the result of careful planning. She knew exactly what she was doing.

“So maybe she’s trying to get us to reconcile?”

As soon as those words come out, you both seem to freeze in your spots, blinking in bewilderment at the slightest mention of the elephant in the room. It might be wishful thinking but you hear a sliver of hope in his question, and you think he hears how it came out too.

Reconcile.

Could the two of you reconcile after everything you put each other through in your last few days together? The thought tears you apart emotionally. Of course you want to reconcile, of course you want to be with him. But haven’t you proven enough that what you had didn’t work? Afterall, everything you had together came crumbling down at the smallest hitch in your path. What is there to reconcile but a dysfunctional relationship?

And how could either of you forget the torment you endured? The noises of Taehyung with another woman through the thin walls, your betrayal of his heart when you mistakenly slept with Jimin.

Reconciliation doesn’t seem possible in the foreseeable future.

“N-not reconcile in that way, I mean, like, for us to make up.” Taehyung stammers, hand waving about in his nervous state. “I mean- no, not make up, but like… make… peace. Yeah, make peace. Sorry.” He winces timorously at his spectacular fumble of words. It’s surprising how nervous and timid he is acting. He should be brutish to you, savage and hostile. But he isn’t.

“Yeah, I got what you mean… Don’t worry.” You can’t stop the corners of your lips from turning up, just a fraction. “But yeah, I think she wants us to make peace.” You conveniently do not bring up how you’re certain that she knows about your history and that this holiday she booked for you and Taehyung is most definitely for the purpose of reconciliation in that way.

“Right.” His bottom lip pinched between his teeth in a manner that makes it feel as though it’s a sight you shouldn���t be looking at, Taehyung’s attention shifts down to avoid your eye. Though, there’s a clear glimmer of expectation as he asks, “So… do you want to talk it out?”

The bus bounces, violently this time, as it drives over what must be a pebble. It rattles your thoughts so physically that you have to grip onto your trousers for support.

This is the deciding moment. Now is when you can choose how you go about this which will determine the rest of your weekend together.

Do you want to talk it out?

The painful memory of the last time you had tried to “talk it out” rakes its claws down your back. All the yelling, the hurtful accusations hurled both ways, the reluctance to accept blame… It haunts you so much so that your voices still ring in your mind, echoes embedding the misery you had both felt and inflicted deep in your bones.

The three stages of your fight painted clairvoyantly in your mind.

One: The Hurting Each Other.

You fuck guys without learning their names.

Two: The Guilt-Tripping.

I didn’t sleep with her. I couldn’t even kiss her for more than a minute on her bed because it felt so wrong it made me fucking sick. I stayed on her couch and thought about you all fucking night. Happy?

Three: The Falling Apart

I… I thought it was clear how I felt…

Always replaying in a loop.

“I’m not sure what there is to talk out.” You say, hating how callous you sound but knowing that it’s a necessary evil to convey your intent. That was in the past. Taehyung is your past. Talking about it would only drag you back into that perpetual cycle and there’s not much left in you to afford that. You look out the window at the open plains of grassland to avoid the hurt you know he can’t hide on his face. “I think it’s better if we keep our distance as much as possible and not make it difficult for ourselves.”

“Okay.” You hear him reply, but only a quiet mumble. From the faint reflection of the window, you see him tighten his jaw and fit his Airpods into his ears. The monster that is your guilt and bitterness sinking its fangs into your throat.

It’s better this way.

And so the bus continues to speed off to the countryside, driving you further and further from civilization and your chance of escape from this doomed weekend with the boy you’re trying to stop loving.

.

You wake up to someone gently shaking your shoulders. “Miss…” You jolt upright.

The first thing that elucidates in your sleep-fogged vision is your tour guide’s kind face smiling down at you. The second, when you come to your senses, is that you are leaning against Taehyung’s frame, his shoulders much harder than you remember them to be. The boy himself is fast asleep beside you, arm loosely linked with yours because you know he has a habit of holding things in his sleep. You hastily pull away.

“We’ve arrived, Miss.” Jae says politely, that humoured glow in his pupils eliciting a bashful blush from you.

“Oh right.” You look around to find the coach empty except for the three of you. “That’s embarrassing, I’m sorry.” The last thing you remember was the angry texts you spammed Lotta with before the songs in your playlist all blurred into one.

“No worries. Forgive me, I’m still learning names.” The heat of the sun is seeping through the glass of the windowpane, licking tenderly at your skin to rouse you awake. “I’ve tried to wake your partner, but it seems...”

“I’m Y/N. And don’t worry, he’s impossible to wake up.” You pause. There is a chance for you to rectify his misconception that you and Taehyung are a couple, except it would probably require some explaining or white-lying and now is not a great time if you’re holding up the whole group. “I’ll do it.”

Despite the conversation being had right over him, Taehyung shows no sign of his slumber being disturbed. His head is tipped back, mouth hanging open with a small dribble of drool beading at the corner of his mouth. Still the same deep-sleeping idiot.

“Oi.” You nudge his ribcage, scaring Jae with your coarseness. “Wake up, Taehyung.”

Nothing but heavy breathing.

“Dude, we’re here.” You grab his face between your harsh fingers and begin shaking vigorously.

Not even a stir. You remember how you used to like to joke that Taehyung could sleep through a burglary, and just to prove your point, you woke up in the middle of the night one time and screamed at the top of your lungs. He did not even move a toe.

“Uh-” There is a hint of worry in Jae’s face; perhaps he thinks that Taehyung has a health condition.

“It’s okay, I’ve got the trick.” This time, you pinch his nose with considerable force and clamp your palm over his mouth, ignoring the smoothness of his skin under your touch and the feeling of his lips skimming your palm. You glance up to find Jae’s eyes almost bulging out of their sockets, swaying uneasily at your method to wake him. “Don’t worry, it works every time.”

But true to your word, in a few seconds, Taehyung is sputtering for breath, eyes flying open in befuddlement, scrambling to sit up. You let go of his nose and smile at your tour guide only to find him petrified.

“What?” In disarray, Taehyung wipes at the corner of his mouth and pats his hair back down from its messy temperment. His heavy body no longer slumped against yours, you feel a weight lifted off your chest, though the fact that you had fallen asleep on each other plays at your mind, lingering to taunt you.

“We’ve arrived.” Jae winces.

You stare at the patterned seats of the coach, trying not to pay attention to Taehyung’s embarrassed apology and explanation on what a deep sleeper he is. You’re not going to think about Taehyung and sleeping. Mindlessly, you trail behind the banter men off the vehicle. You’re not going to think about how good it feels to sleep beside him.

The sun greeting you when you step foot onto ground instantly refreshes your mood, banishing away those thoughts that were slipping through the cracks. There’s something so healing about the air of the countryside, fresh and unpolluted and full of the pleasant crisp scent that one would associate with green and yellow. Staring back at you is a seemingly endless field of bushes dotted with red, the sweet berry smell already perfusing into your nose.

You ignore the crunch of gravel sounding from Taehyung’s steps not far from you and proceed to join the waiting crowd, their phones out to capture the stunning scenery.

As everyone gathers, it’s difficult to concentrate on Jae’s briefing of the weekend planned ahead, starting with an introduction to the farm which you frankly do not care to learn about. You try not to glance over at Taehyung at the corner of your eye, at how his hair is still sticking out awkwardly in the back, his eyes slightly swollen from sleep. You try not to notice his hesitancy, standing a distance from you despite everyone else standing in their couples.

It’s like a buzzing in the back of your mind, a constant tug at your consciousness, not allowing you to relax as much as you want to in this serene environment. You want to stop thinking about him but you can’t.

“In February, the weather is set to be nice and warm during the day and slightly chilly in the evenings, so I do hope that you have packed sufficiently as stated in the email. Now, if you look to your left...” Jae’s monologue drones on like white noise, because all you can focus on is not focusing on Taehyung.

Lotta has not replied to your hounding messages with anything of use, no answers to your plethora of questions. Just relax. Stop making such a big deal out of it, grow up and make up with him because you clearly aren’t over him. You wanted to tell her that things are not that simple, she doesn’t know how badly you both fucked up. Yet, you know her response would only be some pretentiously worded reply full of the condescending wisdom it always contains when she’s telling you off.

You’ll admit it, as stubborn as you are, Lotta’s advice is right 9 times out of 10. She was right when she said you shouldn’t have gone with Taehyung to Mykonos within two weeks of knowing him because he could have been a killer or psychopath. She was right when she pointed out that you act like Taehyung annoys the living shit out of you but you secretly care deeply for him.

But she’s definitely not right this time, you are adamant about it. It would be a miracle if you and Taehyung could even be friends within the next six months, let alone… And if anything were to happen, setting you two up on a romantic holiday together is certainly the wrong way to go about it. It feels so inorganic, like you’re forced to spend time with each other.

Out of habit, you steal a glance at him. It’s not a surprise to find him not paying an ounce of attention to Jae either. Taehyung is staring off into the strawberry field, face angled away from you such that the sunlight is hitting his skin in all the right places to glaze a golden aura over him.

It’s strange to see such a permanent sadness in his eyes, a melancholic nostalgia. You hate yourself - you did this to him, you broke him. Does he hate you? Resent you? You think you’d rather he did.

Soon, the group of you are whisked away down a pebbly path to a rustic looking hotel beside the farm where you will all stay in. It’s not the old run-down type of rustic, but more the luxurious kind that very evidently serves an aesthetic purpose. And that’s when you begin to notice, this “farm” is not really a farm at all, but more a boujee farm-themed resort. This trip could certainly not have been cheap. As much as you are here against your will, you can’t help but feel immense gratitude to Lotta for her willingness to spend such money on you.

You are stopped at a grand lobby, the style of which resembling a small piazza of Southern Italy - warm neutral-toned Roman concrete walls with a green flourish of vines and bushes. It’s absolutely stunning, a surreal setting that you only see in movies. It’s impossible not to feel the air of romance circulating this architecture. You glance over to find him, stood an awkwardly respectful distance away from you, gaping around at the interior of the building in awe. He is a sucker for art, especially architecture. You almost wish you were friends again only to hear him gush about the beauty of this place.

When Jae begins to hand out room keys, it suddenly occurs to you, perhaps the worst aspect of your predicament this weekend - you are sharing a room with Taehyung.

You are sharing a…

Heart sinking, you look over again to see if the same thought has dawned on him. It has. His eyes are fixed on Jae in an eerily blank way, his jaw tense, a single bead of sweat trickling down the side of his forehead which you will excuse as the heat.

When Jae approaches you, Taehyung automatically joins your side in a dazed worry. Eye contact made was brief, not enough for you two to communicate whether or not you tell Jae that this was all a mistake and you would much rather be apart.

“Here you go, Y/N.” Your guide flashes you that charming grin of his as he waves your keycards before you. Instinctively, you receive it in your palm. “You guys have got the deluxe suite - wonderful choice.”

“We-” You begin, but he doesn’t seem to take notice. You’re starting to notice that he perhaps likes the sound of his own voice a bit too much.

“As I said, strawberry-picking will start at half past so that gives you a bit of time to drop off your luggage and freshen up after the long ride.” He continues. This will probably be the only chance you get to tell him that you and Taehyung aren’t a couple before it becomes too late, and you’re going to miss this opportunity because of another one of his monologues. The desperate itch in your chest grows an uncomfortable size. “Please meet here at the reception on time. And as for your luggage - oh, I see you two are lightly-packed. Low maintenance, my favourite type of people. In that case, your room is on the ground floor, if you follow that lovely couple down that corridor over there.”

And just like that, he smiles, retracts his extended arm pointing towards the direction of your room and turns to guide another couple.

“Wai-” You call after him weakly, but he has once again launched into the same speech he’d recited to you to a new audience.

And there goes your chance of rectifying this weekend.

You stand there for a good minute, mind trying to piece together how, just how, you will manage to survive this weekend. Taehyung is quiet beside you, equally as baffled at what to do.

“Should we head to our room then…” He mutters after too long a moment of unmoving stature. “I kinda want to change into some lighter clothes and we don’t have that long.”

You nod without looking at him. Because you can’t stand looking at his face right now, the face that you’ll be stuck with for these two days, the face that you love.

Silence between you now grows more familiar as you walk wordlessly to your room, the round corner of the plastic keycard digging hard into your palm. It’s painfully awkward. Your echoing steps provide the only stable rhythm against the storm between you.

Beep. The door opens at your will with a swipe of the card.

You weren’t prepared for what exactly the deluxe room entails. Its size could easily be a tiny studio apartment: a small seating area consisting of a pearly white sofa and a glass coffee table so delicately built that you would not trust yourself near; a mini-kitchen on the left side of the room accompanied by a generously stocked beverage bar; a king-sized bed in the far right wine-red in colour and excessively buried in frivolous cushions. But the belle of the ball is really the glass panelled-wall at the back of the room that you face as you enter, spanning from ceiling to floor, opening up to the patio hand-plucked out of your dreams. Rose bushes, circular beige woven garden daybed, and not to mention the hot tub.

You are completely in awe. Your mind instantly flashes to Mykonos. This luxury is the furthest from a farm experience whatsoever. It really explains how every couple on this trip looks like the child of a wealthy politician with their finely manicured hands and sickly cologne.

“Woah.” An octave deeper than usual, Taehyung expresses his wonder as he surveys the extravagance that is your room. “This… How much must this have cost?”

“I have no idea.” You whisper, still in your state of near speechlessness while your feet take you to the glass wall.

This is a place of romantic films, a place for honeymoons. Everything is in a rose-gold tint, glistening almost mockingly under the soft February sun. Why are you here? You almost hear the slabs of sandstone ask.

Behind you, you hear him huff out the marvel that he is submerged in. His backpack slides off his shoulder, swung carelessly towards the loveseat. And plop he goes, starfished onto the bed.

Then the fear returns, reclaims its usual residence in your throat. As you pry your eyes away from the opulence of the veranda to look at Taehyung, his head lifts up at the same moment. The short-lived mist that clouded over your reality finally disperses.

You blink again at his sprawled out limbs. He blinks back.

It is as if a switch has flipped, the speed at which he jumps back onto his two feet, fright jarring his mouth agape. “I’llsleeponthesofa.” The slur of his words are unintelligible to your ears, but his display of alarm is almost comical, threatening a smile from the corners of your lips at the hysteria of your situation despite the same alarm you are experiencing.

“What?”

“I’ll sleep on the sofa.” His voice is firmer the second time he says it, tilting his chin up as if to reassure you of his confidence.

“It’s okay, I’ll sleep on the sofa.” You sigh because you know how much Taehyung is bursting to sleep in a king-sized bed. It was his first time in Mykonos, and you had not heard the end of how it was the best sleep he’s had in his lifetime. So imagine him now.

He bristles, a genuine look of offence fleets. “Of course not, I can’t allow that.”

“Why not?” Your tone with him is foreign, lacking the playfulness it once had - just an aloof callousness.

“‘Coz! I’m not gonna let you take the couch while I sleep on this massive bed.” He gestures at the couch for emphasis, letting his arm dangle afterwards. He is less different with you than you are with him, you note.

“You just answered my question with the very statement I was questioning you on.” You cross your arms and lean against the glass, allowing the warmth to bask through your shirt.

Taehyung frowns and mirrors your action, the muscle of his bicep flexing more than usual from the agitation in his motion. “‘Coz you’re a light sleeper. Just stop being stubborn and take the bed.”

You’re not quite sure why, of all things, ‘you’re a light sleeper’ is what moves you. The consideration he still holds for you inhibits any protest you wish to sound.

He cares about you, he clearly still does. Just like how you would willingly give up the bed for him.

God, you don’t want to fucking be here. You wish it didn’t have to be so painful, every single little interaction between you just reminding you again and again of how much you loved and hurt each other.

Taehyung takes your silence as compliance and begins to unpack, ruffling through his bag for a change of cooler clothes with his shoulders tense in discomfort. You know what the mature person in you should say: we can just share the bed. But you can’t think of a single reason why that would be a good idea.

With this Valentine’s trip completely planned for you two, it feels like the universe presenting you with an undeniable temptation. Everything around you is telling you to just get back with him, to give in to your inhibitions and fall back into him. You’ve got the champagne in the cooler, hot tub in the patio, rose petalled bed all laid out in front of you at your disposal. An inner voice chanting make up, make up, make up. Because what’s stopping you?

What’s stopping you is that look on his face when he saw Jimin fixing the back of his shoe beside you as you were walking him out. What’s stopping you is the sound of another girl moaning his name right down the hall from you.

So maybe some could see it as strength for resisting the yearning, for being able to put up a front and speak to him so indifferently. But you see it as weakness, because you still cannot move on.

.

Despite the sun blazing down your back, the cool gust of spring weather eases what otherwise would have been scorching heat. Never would you anticipate that you would be spending this weekend sifting through strawberry bushes to find large red ripe summer fruit, yet here you are. You don’t even think it’s strawberry season.

You’ve never been a country girl, but the dirt feels strangely comforting under your nails. Well, comforting is perhaps not the best word to describe your state of mind right now. As much tranquility as this farm is bringing you, with Taehyung always no more than two metres away from you, you don’t think you could ever relax.

In black sports shorts, plucking his own berries on the other side of the same very row of bushes, sweat trickling along the veins of his neck… Of course your attention is scattered.

Not to mention, you keep catching his shifting eyes. You thought you ought to say something, but what exactly? The awkwardness is prominent as it is.

A heavy exhale. You find a particularly large berry, leaves curling upwards to indicate its ripeness as the strawberry expert (yes, strawberry expert) had taught you. Pluck. And off it goes into your basket.

This is definitely therapeutic. You imagine every strawberry to be your feelings for Taehyung. This one over here shall symbolise his musky scent that you fall asleep to. Pluck. This one, his stupidly attractive perm, so long that even you would tell him to trim it because it’s covering his eyes. Pluck. His eyes… Especially when he’s confused as he makes that wide-eyed puppy dog face, which is very often. Pluck.

You glance up, you can’t help it.

And he’s already looking at you. Caught red-handed, literally red-handed because his hands are somehow stained with strawberry juice. Instantly he whips his head back down at his basket that is rested by his crouching knees, though there is not much in there for him to look at.

“Stop making this weirder than it already is.” He almost jumps when you speak, clearly not expecting any sort of interaction from your end.

Slowly, he glances back up at you, dark wavy fringe swaying from the slow tilt of his head. “I- Sorry, I wasn’t- Um, I don’t mean to make you uncomfortable.”

There’s something quite breathtaking about Taehyung under the sun, the way the rays reflect off his honey-tan skin to give an effulgent finish like a marble statue of some Ancient Roman God worshipped by priests and maidens. The coat of sweat gathered at his cupid’s bow could possibly be your undoing.

You love him, despite all the strawberries symbolic of his traits that you were picking.

And you hate yourself for that. You don’t want to feel like this anymore. You’re so sick of this heavily-hearted feeling of being dragged down by your emotions all the fucking time. You want to be able to look at him and feel nothing, look at him and not be intruded by the echoes of that night.

It makes you sick, the thought of him inside someone else. Physically sick to the core.

“Well, you are. So stop looking at me.” You state coldly. You just want to forget everything and let go of him, but his presence is not letting you do so. If being a bitch is what it takes, you’ll gladly be a bitch

“No, you have dirt on your face.”

Embarrassment slams into you like a wave, wielding you to shut your eyes and take a deep breath of humiliation. It’s instant karma for being a bitch. “Oh.” You say, carelessly wiping all over your cheeks with the back of your wrist, more with the intention of hiding the rush of blood to your face than to actually clean. You keep your eyes trained on a tiny pale berry in the bush, hoping that he’ll look away from you.

But he doesn’t. “You’re smearing it.” You look up to find his lips drawn in a tight line in attempt to hide his amusement. Everything is just working out wonderfully for you, isn’t it? Yet before your mind can process it, he rises from his crouch and leans over the short bushes.

When his thumb meets your cheek, it almost sears you. As his eyes are focused on the dirt on your face he’s brushing away, yours are locked on his gaze - gentle, warm, familiar. The collar of his shirt droops low, exposing his chiseled collar bones, protruding so enticingly as if for the sole purpose to catch your attention and remind you that it was one of your favourite places to bury your nose in.

Taehyung’s touch is heartbreakingly gentle; the rest of his fingers come under the side of your jaw for support, though only fleetingly. The whole exchange is brief, the dirt brushed away as swiftly as your relationship had crumpled.

You feel it in your nose first, that overwhelming wave of sadness, and then behind your eyes. You want to cry. You want to cry as he pulls away, as he realises that he has unconsciously acted out of familiarity, as a shyness reaches his eyes when he meets your glare.

It was only a mindless sweep of his thumb on your face, yet its impact is explosive under your skin, reminiscent of a time when such a touch had different implications, elicited a different response.

You quickly blink it away - the tears, but not the heartache. That wretched feeling in your throat does not permit you to thank him, so you just stare at each other, the world around you a mere blur of blues and greens. You watch his chest rise as he sucks in for air, wondering if the same memories are now visiting, no, haunting, him.

You can’t do this because you’re not strong enough. For you whole act of indifference in front of him, your constant resisting against the urge to fall back into him, you’re still not strong enough.

But to your surprise, or perhaps even gratitude, he’s the one who picks up his basket and paces away without another word. You watch the back of his calves, the slosh of his overgrown hair, as he walks away.

.

You stare out the glass door at the patio. It’s dark, you can scarcely see a thing with the lights outside switched off. It acts as a perfect canvas for your imagination, for scenes of your past together to materialise before you.

It’s not been a full day yet, and you already feel so drained. This is impossible. You want to call Lotta to pick you up, but upon deeper consideration, you don’t think you have the heart to. This must have cost her a considerable amount of money to book. She had the full intention that this will bring you and Taehyung back together, yet it is doing everything but. You don’t want to imagine her disappointment when you return in streams of tears.

After the session of strawberry-picking, your baskets were handed over for your fruits to be washed and prepared for your baking class tomorrow. Following that is your free time, when you are left to your own devices, at liberty to roam around the farm, dine at their organic restaurant by the hotel. Taehyung had taken Jae’s recommendation of visiting the spa; you opted to stroll (sulk) about, as far away from him as possible.

It’s unhealthy, this continuous bombardment of thoughts of him. Your month’s worth of progress has reduced to ashes.

Maybe you don’t even actually have feelings for him anymore. It could purely be a deception of the closeness you’ve developed for each other that you mistaken for love. You had spent almost every single day of the past two and a half years together, under the same roof, sharing a bed towards the last few months. It’s the safety and intimacy that your brain associates him with that forbids you from moving on.

Maybe you’re actually over him romantically. But the wanting, the missing him as your best friend still lingers.

The door to your room opens abruptly. Hair damp, Taehyung strolls inside in a white bathrobe and slippers, his clothes bunched up under his arm. Tiny beads of moisture dot the sparse view of his chest you have.

“Oh, you’re here.” He says, his step faltering at your clearly unanticipated presence. Or perhaps the sight of you, staring out into the dark, completely alone in this room is just awfully strange. “I thought you’d be eating at this time.” Eyes dropping to the ground as the door shuts behind him, his movements are clearly timid and weary, an rare expression on Taehyung.

“Not that hungry.” You mutter. “How was…” You ask out of habit, but immediately catch yourself. Quick eye contact before you both look away like docile animals. It’s too late for you to take back the question now anyway. “How was the spa?” And to make it appear that you don’t really care and was just asking out of courtesy, you turn back around to face out to the patio.

Completely unnecessary and petty move, whatever.

Except you see his reflection on the glass from the illuminated room all too well. Visibly easing that you’ve looked away, he plops his clothes down at the end of the bed and trails into the bathroom to fetch a towel for his hair. “Was really nice, they give good massages. You should give it a go at some point.”

“Okay.” He gives his head a good shake before drying with the towel. It feels creepy that he doesn’t know you are watching his reflection, so your eyes drop to your feet. You wonder if his masseuse was female. Not that it matters at all.

“What time are we meant to meet them for stargazing again?” He is speaking a lot - well, relatively. It saddens you that his usual tone of endearment when he would speak to you is now missing. It’s like speaking to a stranger, but worse, a stranger who takes a stab at your heart after every word.

“At 9, so that’s in…” You raise your wrist to find your watch absent from where it usually sits on your wrist. Right, you had removed it before strawberry-picking so it doesn’t get dirty and left it on the coffee table. Just as you turn around to retrieve it, you are met with Taehyung slipping his robe off. Your eyes widen.

The fluffy material glides down his shoulders like he’s made of gold, revealing the sculpture of his upper body that you scarcely recognise because he never used to be this toned. You thank any higher power there is that he is wearing his boxers, but they do nothing to conceal the faintest V at his hips and the bulk of his thighs. He isn’t bursting with muscle, but body definitely more well-defined than you remember.

“Have you been working out?” It just slips out. You wish, as the heat floods to dizzy your mind, that you had the capability of holding your tongue for once in your life.

Taehyung hesitates, Adam’s apple bobbing at his jugular. That shy awkwardness returns when your eyes meet. “Yeah. I mean a little, here and there…” Self-consciously, he brings his arm across his chest to rub at his bicep, but the gesture only flexes the muscle he has gained.

Your knees feel slightly weak. It’s the lack of dinner, you tell yourself. It’s not just your knees that feel weak though, your heart is thumping haphazardly into arrhythmia.

“But you hate exercise.” The stability in your voice surprises you.

“Yeah I did, but Seojoon said it’d help me take my mind off… things.” Lip between his teeth, Taehyung searches around for a top. Sheepishness in the form of a soft pink tint on his round cheeks turns you soft.

‘Things’, meaning you.

When you realise you’ve been staring, you immediately look down, fingers fiddling with each other like you’re some virgin freshly exposed to the spectacle of the male body. You’re anything but yourself, and so is he. Taehyung exercising? You almost scoff.

“You don’t have to… You’ve seen me naked, you know.” Taehyung mumbles, finally locating the sweatshirt he intends to wear. When you hear him pull it over himself, you sag in relief, the immense weight that his starkness strangely bestowed on you finally alleviated.

“Yeah, but it’s different now.” Now that we’re not together anymore. Not that we were ever together.

You know he feels it too, the sting of those words. The hurt in his eyes fill you with a sort of bitter self-resentment that you cannot wrap your head around. Stop looking at me like that. Stop making me feel like a bitch. Just stop hurting me.

“Yeah, it is.” But for some reason, it stings even more when he says it. His agreement should be a triumph, yet it feels more like the acknowledgement of the broken bridges between you.

When it comes from your mouth, it’s you convincing yourself more than anything. When it comes from his, it sounds like the truth.

.

Of the many things that are slowly killing Taehyung this weekend, the painfully awkward silence is among the most unbearable. It’s the loud kind of silence that he hates where there is clearly so much to say to each other yet none of it is coming out. There’s a vast ocean between you, roaring waves engulfing any sort of message he wishes to communicate.

This has to be one of the strangest experiences of his life - being set up by your friend on a couple’s trip to a resort disguised as a strawberry farm for Valentine’s day with you - and he has experienced a lot of weird shit in his life.

To be honest, he hasn’t been doing so great the past few weeks.

All the anger and bitterness had taken two days to melt away into miserable wretchedness. Two days, that’s all it took for him to not be angry with you anymore because there was one person he was angrier at - himself.

Because Taehyung was quick to realise that losing you is miles, miles, worse than what you had done to him. It was a sudden sort of realisation, the kind that hits you in the middle of doing something. What had he done?

The way he yelled at you, the things he said. His chest always sinks at the rememberance.

You didn’t know it was Jimin, you truly didn’t. But he exploded on you nonetheless, impermeable to your explanation. That wasn’t him. That raging bellowing man wasn’t him. If only he had just calmed down and talked it through with you, maybe he wouldn’t have been sleeping alone in your bed that your scent still clung on to.

And when he thinks about how you had heard him with that girl from the club, the bar, wherever his inebriated state took him that he doesn’t even remember…

Taehyung regrets everything.

How you got to this point was so extremely stupid. He should have just confessed to you, simple and easy, no complications needed. You are a commitment-phobe, he always knew he’d have to be the one to say it first. So why didn’t he? What the fuck was holding him back?

All he had to say was to not go on that date with Junho. That’s all you wanted. Why why why didn’t he just say how he felt?

Taehyung never knew himself to be a crier before this. He had shed a tear or two when he found out about Ryujin’s cheating and his friends’ betrayal; that was a stab in the back that left him gutted from the inside. Yet still, he got by, he survived because he found you. And he had naively thought, I managed to bear through this so nothing can really be worse than this now can it?

It can, and it did.

Once it starts, it won’t stop. The tears. A great tempest swallowing him whole and dragging him under until all he could hear was his own pounding heart. It is always before bed, when he would have the time to himself to truly think and reflect. But sometimes it comes during the day as well. He will be doing something as mundane as washing his hair in the shower, and he would suddenly break down because you had left him your shampoo that you would always get annoyed at him for using.

The house just feels empty. The absence of your voice, your warmth, your lips pressed on his neck every morning before his eyes even fully opened. Gone.

Yet, every corner is etched with the memories you share, your ghost lingering by the sofa that you adore whenever he’s watching TV, or curled up beside him every night in bed. It’s impossible to forget you.

Even as Seojoon moved in to fill your vacated room and help with the rent, the place was cold. It will never be the same because nothing could ever replace you. Everything he had and cherished - swept away just like that by none other than his own mistakes.

Yes, you had hurt him a lot. At the time, that pain felt insurmountable, like the worst thing you could ever do to him. But ultimately, upon the endless nights of thinking, he has realised that what hurt him the most was not you, but losing you. Not Jimin, not Junho, but how what could have been between you two fell apart so quickly by the poor choices you both made.

“Now if you look up to your left, you might be able to see one of our February constellations, the Pictor.” Jae announces, voice full of an enthusiasm that Taehyung could only envy as he guides the tour group towards the centre of a large plain field behind the hotel where you will all be stargazing. It is a lovely, breezy, cloudless night. You are several paces ahead of Taehyung, keenly reading the constellation manual leaflet lit up by your phone; he knows just how much of an astronomy geek you are. “It consists of four stars, as shown on your Star Guide, that are actually very dim and usually not easily spotted. The name Pictor means the Painter’s easel.”

Taehyung stops. Despite the darkness, he sees your shoulders tense too.

The easel you had gifted him on his birthday sits in his closet, stowed away from being a constant reminder of how much you loved him and how much he should have held on. It just sits there, collecting dust, untouched since the day you left.

The halt in Jae’s walking indicates your arrival to the intended location. “Here we are. Let’s settle down, love birds. I’ll set up this gorgeous telescope for anyone who wants to explore the sky in greater focus which I highly recommend.”

Spreading across the field, the group unrolls the picnic blankets you’ve all been given, dropping down to rest atop the covered grass.

No time is wasted from everyone else to snuggle up to their boyfriends, girlfriends, husbands, wives. The atmosphere is sickly, even for Taehyung. The couples around him have done little to hide their affection for each other since the beginning of the trip. It is a romantic vacation after all, but is it really so necessary to display your love so publicly?

You stand static and poker-faced on the other side of the mat, clear signs of reluctance to participate plastered all over you.

Taehyung has never stargazed before, let alone in this context. The stiffness in your movement as you sink down onto your knees and lie down in discomfort makes him wince. He realises now that neither of you have a choice but to put away any ill feelings and lay beside each other.

As he gets down next to you, his head nearly tumbles out his chest at the sudden proximity that he has grown so unused to. In the dark, your scent washes up to him like a timid tide lapping at the shore, hair swaying off your shoulders as you get onto your back. The size of the mat does not permit him elsewhere other than immediately beside you, no more than five inches from touching shoulders. Five inches from touching.

Truthbetold, Taehyung feels himself going insane. It started from the moment he saw you on the bus, your wide eyes, parted lips, so pretty despite the look of terror you wore. He didn’t think he would have the chance to see you any time soon. He hadn’t truly comprehended the magnitude at which he missed you until he saw you again.

And he has been spiralling since. Every gesture making his senses scream in agony, the desire to just talk to you mangling at him. He misses you like crazy. Not necessarily in that way, but just your presence, your funny comments, your feign annoyance when he annoys you. He misses the companionship.

You are both on your back now, the blanket feeling either slightly damp or too cold for comfort. The star-speckled sky hanging above you both is endless, a panoramic painting from east to west. You stare at the sky like it’s your lover, so Taehyung does the same. Astronomy doesn’t interest him as much as the meaning and purpose behind the act of stargazing. The people he’s with and the memories he makes.

Wordless, you stare at the sky, ignorant to his presence. The soft hum of everyone else’s whispers accentuates that frustrating silence between you. Taehyung is so fucking tired of the silence because he’s bursting with things to say to you, to ask you.

“Are we just not going to speak?”

His question startles you for you almost, almost, turn to look at him. The slight angling of your head before you catch yourself does not go unmissed by him.

“What do you want to speak about?” Taehyung hates the coldness in your voice. The unfeeling sounds so real. Why are you being this way? Do you seriously want nothing to do with him? That possibility scares him above all else.

Someone giggles a few yards from you two. On this large grassland, the couples are dispersed in their own little bubble of sweet affection, but not enough for his ears to not pick up these little sounds that send courses of envy through his vessel.

“What do you think?” The four weeks you spent apart were four weeks of lamenting over all the things he should have said, and all that he shouldn’t. And Taehyung’s is done with regretting unspoken words. He just wants to get everything out in the open, out of his system, so he can move on.

“I mean-”

“Look, Y/N. This is stupid, the whole ignoring each other thing. Don’t you just want to say your piece and get that weight off your chest?” In the distance, crickets chirp faintly. The discomfort shuddering in the five-inch area between your shoulders is screaming volumes. Taehyung doesn’t turn away from the sky for the fear of the expression he would see you wear.

He expects a note of irritation in your voice, for you to start arguing with him which he truthfully doesn’t mind because that is at least progress. But instead he gets a quiet defeat. “I don’t want to reopen wounds that are already ripping open, Taehyung.”

It wrenches his soul, truly. He doesn’t recognise you when you speak anymore, both with the things you say, and the way you say it. “Talking will help it heal.” Because that’s both your final goals here - to heal, to be cured of the ailment that is heartbreak.

“How exactly is it going to change anything?”

“I don’t know. We’ve had time to calm down and think and I think we should have some closure so we end on a good note.”

It’s funny now, how Taehyung is the one pleading to speak to you when he should be the one who’s angry at you because you were the one to commit the last and biggest fault. He doesn’t see it like that though, that’s all in the past. To be friends with you again, that’s all he wishes for, he doesn’t care about anything else at this point.

“So this is about amicability to you? You want to end on good terms.” Neither of you still dare to look at the other, eyes locked on the stars but somewhere distant.

“Well, yeah. Do you not?” He asks. He hadn’t expected you to be this uneasy, he thought you would have liked the idea of peace amongst you. “Everything towards the end happened so quickly, wouldn’t you like some closure?

“I would rather take my time and heal in my own way. To be honest, I don’t have anything to say to you about that topic except that I’m sorry, but I’m sure you’re sick of hearing that. It’s pointless.”

You’re coping with this differently, Taehyung understands. But it doesn’t take much effort to be pleasant towards each other, to smile and greet each other like normal people instead of scrambling away from every eye contact. How do you suppose you’d be able to move on like that?

“So not even friends right now?” He tries one last time. A soft breeze washes over you, wafting your scent towards him.

“No, I don’t want to be friends right now.”

Your bluntness stings. Taehyung finally gives in and turns to face you. Your striking profile greets him, your eyes still stubbornly glued to the sky. Your unwillingness to budge or compromise even a little bit is frustrating.

“We were best friends for the past two and a half years. More than best friends, we were literally two peas in a pod; we lived together, ate together, studied together, slept together. And now we don’t even talk. You’re okay with losing that? You’re telling me that I’m the only one who misses it more than anything else?” His angry whisper sounds ridiculous as he tries to keep his volume down, conscious of the setting he’s in.

But then he sees you blink, hard. Then blink again. Your pursed lip trembles. Another two consecutive blinks. When you look at him, your eyes are so glassy that they reflect the entirety of the galaxy above. “How am I supposed to be your friend right now when I can’t even look at you without feeling this great pang of sadness every time?” Taehyung immediately wishes he hadn’t pushed you.

“I… just would rather have you in my life as a friend than not have you at all.” His voice softens to a tone more apologetic. He is the reason for the tears you’re holding back right now and he despises it.

“I would rather not have you in my life at all while I slowly get over you than have you as just a friend because my heart can’t take this constant torture. I just want to be over you but I can’t do that if I have to pretend to be okay around you. And I just don’t get it Taehyung. How are you so willing to be friends again? After what I did, how could you look at me and not hate me?”

Taehyung frowns at you because he doesn’t see how you can’t understand it’s not about that anymore. It’s not about the blame, the who did what to who. He doesn’t care anymore but the fact that you do is alarming. You still can’t let it go.

“Okay, so is this about you not forgiving yourself?” He prods, and watches the brief flash of confusion on your face.

“I-” You’re quick to dispute but stop. Because it’s the truth.

A long silence ensures. You stare at the collar of his sweatshirt, zoned out. Taehyung knows you’re in deep contemplation, you know his points have strong grounds. There is no reason for hostility or callousness between you because it would only hurt each other more.

“Look,” He takes a deep breath. “I just think that it’s unhealthy for you to act like this. You’re burying and burying what you’re feeling without actually facing it. Trying to be friends is a good first step in accepting that we’re not together anymore; being cold to each other isn’t. Think about it.”

Another long pause. He watches you blink, watches your chest rise and fall at every breath.

“I understand your point, I know my coping mechanism isn’t healthy but it’s all that I know right now. We’re different, we’re hurting differently and healing differently. I’m sorry for acting out on you when it’s myself who I want to punish. But I seriously don’t have the strength to be your friend right now, I wish I did but I really don’t. Just give me time.” The fact that you’re not arguing with him says a lot; you have both matured from this experience. It’s sad that this is what it took for you to do so.

“Okay. I respect that.” Taehyung says. “I’m sorry for pushing this onto you, it’s selfish of me, sorry. I just… I don’t know, I guess I’m pathetic. You were my best friend and I want to salvage it as much as I can. I just miss you, that’s all.”

You don’t say anything, but Taehyung is okay with that. Because he knows you miss him too, you miss the friendship, the having each other to lean on.

The difference between you and him is that you can’t compartmentalise your lingering feelings for him and put that aside right now, whereas he can. You need to rid those feelings before you can be his friend, and he’s okay with that.

He stares at Pictor, it’s four weak stars that dim beside much brighter constellations yet somehow call to him. And he almost smiles.

.

You stare at your own reflection in the mirror.

That conversation with Taehyung resonates with you more than you’d care to let on. You let every single word he said sink in, your inner turmoil contemplating the points he made. Because he definitely has a point.

What resonates with you most is the word closure.

He’s right, everything between you ended so quickly that there was no time to process and accept it until it was already over. Maybe that’s why you’re finding it so hard to let go. If you were to be friends again, you could at least normalise his presence and gradually move past this.

Twisting the faucet on, you splash some water on your face to clear this dilemma from your head. And after wiping yourself dry, you exit the bathroom into your room with a great sigh.

Taehyung is wearing the grey hoodie - that’s the first thing you notice. As in the grey hoodie you would always claim as your own because of how soft its material is. The grey hoodie that you regret giving back to him. The grey hoodie that he would always wear when you guys gamed at midnight and it would always end with you on his lap, his locks tangled in your fingers while his mouth explored yours.

You take it back, fuck being friends, you’re back to square one.

He glances up in the dark, eyes surveying your silhouette from head to toe as he places a pillow on one end of the couch. Ever since that conversation, there’s the most subtle difference in his permanent expression - his lips look inclined to smile, his eyes hold an understanding for you that makes you feel vulnerable.

And, god, it makes you want to try. He deserves it, to have his best friend back in his life even if that best friend is you, the person he trusted the most in the world only to turn around and impale him in the chest with those stupid decisions of yours.

The omnipresence of your awkwardness hasn’t faltered though. “Taehyung, I said I would take the couch.” You protest, though you’re starting to see that it’s futile. You may be the more stubborn one between the pair, but there are certain things that Taehyung would never back down from.

“Yeah, that’s not gonna happen, Y/N.” The corner of his lip turns up properly now, like he’s silently snickering at a joke he thought of. “That’s just - not gonna happen.”

“What’s so funny?” Switching the bathroom lights off behind you, you ask. You hadn’t packed well for this trip, you are only in a flimsy camisole and a pair of sweats, the cold air coaxes goosebumps on your skin. His gaze follows you as you draw the curtains shut over the glass wall, leaving only a strip of moonlight streaming in.

“Nothing.” Taehyung places both hands on the top of his head, an action that causes his hoodie to slightly ride up his torso. You fix your eyes on the floor as you approach him and the sofa. “It’s just funny how you think I’d ever let you sleep on the couch while I sleep on the bed.”

There is a dead end down this path you’re going, neither of you would let the other win. So you simply ignore him and situate yourself on the couch, stretching your legs to span it wholly. “Good night.” Fixing the pillow he had placed, you shut your eyes.

“What, no.” You can hear the smile wipe off his face, almost making you chuckle out loud. “Y/N, get up.” Hastily he hovers over you. But when you show no sign of acknowledgement, he shuffles away. A moment later, you feel a great gust of air, then the softest silkiest duvet landing over you.

Your eyes fly open. And there Taehyung stands with his arms crossed smugly. “If you take the couch, you also take the covers.”

“No! You’ll be cold.”

“You’ll be cold. You’re not wearing enough.”

You give up. “Oh, for god’s sake, Taehyung. Fine. Let’s both sleep on the bed, okay?” His entire expression dilates. He doesn’t even blink as you get off the couch and cross your arms back at him. “Problem solved.”

Taking his wrist in one hand, dragging the plush duvet in the other, you walk to the bed and sit him down. No noise of protest emits from him, so you go back to retrieve the pillow from the couch in a huff.

“Are you sure?” His voice is suddenly timid, unsure. And he’s right to be so, because you’re quaking on the inside as well at the prospect of sleeping beside him.

It’s not going to be good for your heart, you know that definitely. But like he said, you need to face this. If you touch a paper cut enough times, it stops hurting. “It’s just sleeping, it’s no big deal.” You lie. “You want to be friends right? Well let’s start with this. Let’s stop being stupid and childish.” You can’t look him in the eye as you rearrange the bedding back to its original state before Taehyung messed it up.

His reply merely a quiet yeah… before you both hesitantly crawl under the covers and tuck in. Heat flushes to your face as you do so because the action feels so familiar, yet everything about it is different.

Absolute silence. Backs facing each other. An arm's length or two between you but it feels like more. You don’t even shut your eyes because why pretend that you’ll fall asleep?

Your own palpitation is so vigorous that it’s audible. The thoughts whizzing around in your head are unstoppable, a persistent prodding at your skull. His scent is strong, that sweet honey musk that used to seduce you to sleep now the very thing that’s keeping you up.

It must be, what, ten? twenty minutes? of just laying there as you ponder your future with Taehyung, if you want a future at all. He’s right, you miss his friendship above all else. As much as you love Lotta, there is an intangible quality missing between you, that extra spark that existed between Taehyung which boosted your dynamic up to an incomparable level. You understood each other without having to speak, care about each other more than yourselves - that love was almost familial. Losing that has been too much.

Then you hear Taehyung shift onto his back. “Y/N?” Your heart skips a beat.

“Yeah?” You answer after a pause, mind racing through all the possibilities of what he could say. You hate this permanent uncertainty of what he’s thinking.

Silence follows for a short while, the endless possibility of what he’s going to say flooding your mind. Then, “You know how I can’t sleep without holding something?”

You stop breathing.

Because you see very clearly where this is going, and it’s down a road that you don’t know if you can withstand.

He can’t sleep without holding you. Holding you.

You take a deep breath and clamp down on your lip, grateful that your back is facing him so he can’t see the pathetic weakness on your face. Can you do this?

Can you do this without wanting to cry? Can you do this without succumbing to your momentary desire to just turn around and kiss him because you won’t be able to think straight with his arms around you? You’re really not sure.

“Yes…?”

“Can I…” Something rustles the covers, perhaps his arm, or maybe he’s inching closer. In the pitch black night, every movement feels amplified, more impactful. “You know…”

“Can you what?” You’re not being difficult, you’re giving him the chance to take back on this request. To just say nevermind and turn back around. Because you’re not equipped for his touch; you don’t want it, you don’t want the pain that comes with it.

Another pause. Take the chance, please. But his deep hesitant voice sounds in the dark, “Can I hold you please?”

You shut your eyes. That feeling in your nose again, that rush. Hold it in, don’t cry, stupid emotional bitch, don’t cry. What’s there to cry about? You wonder if this torment will end, and you wonder if you could ever stop feeling this much for him.

“I swear I’m not trying anything, I genuinely can’t sleep.” His voice has a way of penetrating deep into your bones, begging you even if it’s not his intention to.

You could say no, right? Just say no.

But that isn’t facing it, that isn’t overcoming your heartbreak. If your goal of this trip is to come out of this weekend completely devoid of feelings for him, then you need to let him stop affecting you.

“Okay. Please don’t make it weird.” You whisper, not daring to move a muscle.

Taehyung sags in relief, the bed dipping with his weight. “I won’t, I promise.” The sound of him shuffling closer to you constricts your throat. You close your eyes, awaiting the warmth of his front to meet your back, counting down in your head for that dreaded moment to come. “Come closer.” He murmurs.

When his hand fits around your waist, you know it’s an act of unconscious habit rather than intent. Slowly, he drags you into the enclosure of his chest, his scent and heat enshrouding you until you are completely engulfed by him.

He exhales, the fingertips of his breath caressing your hair ever so gently.

Every fibre in your body is tensing, eyes firmly shut and toes curled inwards. His hand feels enormous on your waist, holding you the only way he has ever known how to. With a unique type of affection that is so pure and devoted, yet also with a hint of protectiveness and possession.

Taehyung lets go of your waist only to encircle his arms around you entirely, his legs curling up under yours until you’re both cocooned together.

“You okay?” The back of your neck feels tender, sensual even, from the tickling heat of his breath. You’re too keenly aware of how close your heads are positioned, of the searing sensations that his hands are causing.

No, you’re not okay. Your skin has been lit on fire. Memories that you’ve long since tried to bury are surging back at full force, slamming into you one after the other. He’s too close, he’s everywhere. There is no distance separating you right now, yet you still feel miles away from him; you can’t comprehend his intentions nor decipher his thoughts. The fit of the crook of your back into his chest is perfect, a heartbreaking kind of perfect. This feels so so familiar. This is exactly what you had yearned and dreamt for every night for the past month - to be in his arms again. So why does it hurt even more than being alone?

Instead, you nod, “Mmm, yeah.”

A compulsion is yanking at you to lean back into him.

Taehyung exhales again and rests his cheek on the back of your shoulder where he always used to perch. If you were naked right now, he would be speckling this shoulder with soft dainty petal kisses. You hate that there is still a part of you, and mind you a very significant part, that wants it.

Your hands are inches away from touching each other; just one lift of your wrist and your fingers can clasp. The urge indunates you.

It would be so easy right now to just succumb - let your hand crawl into his because you know he would hold it, turn around and start kissing up his jaw until your tongues are tangled. You think it’s purely physical, these impulses, at least that’s what you want them to be. You just miss the intimacy, that’s all. But then why does it feel like you’ve swallowed a kaleidoscope of butterflies? Except their wings are made of glass, and everytime they flutter, you feel the shards scratch along your insides. There is desire laced in the pain. You don’t know which one is worse.

What baffles you the most is how he is alright with this, how he initiated this. He said he wants to at least be your friend, but this surely feels like a breach of friendship to anyone. Holding each other in bed is not being friends. But then again, you both have always had a warped perception of what friends should be doing.

You don’t understand how it’s so different for him. How the areas where you are touching, even if separated by layers of clothes, doesn’t tear through his sanity. If he doesn’t feel the same crack in his heart, then what does he feel?

With every heavy breath he takes, you take a silent one, eyes shut and praying to be swept away by the sleep that you don’t believe will reach you. You haven’t slept well since that night. Taehyung, on the other hand, you know is instantly sound asleep. It never used to take him more than five minutes as long as you were in his clutch.

But then, maybe there is a soothing essence in his presence with his overwhelming pleasant scent and rhythmic breathing, or maybe you’ve just exhausted your body with constant overthinking, a hazy fog drifts over your consciousness. You’re so tired, physically and mentally drained... And Taehyung feels so warm and snug around you...

The last thought you have before you drift off into reverie is that you feel his fingers slide between yours, holding not firmly but with intent. And you don’t know if it was you or him who moved it so.

You wake up from the damp heat gathered in all your crevices, the thin coat of sweat mildly irritating your skin. You are facing the glass door to the patio, and though the curtains conceal much of the windows, strips of sunlight topple past the cracks and unfurl into your room.

Taehyung’s arm is around you. Still.

After these years of living together, you know everything about Taehyung like that back of your hand. You can tell whether he’s awake or not from his breathing. And he’s most definitely asleep, though only lightly.

You look down and examine your position. In the course of the night, his forearm has travelled progressively higher until it is just about cradling your breasts. One of his legs is thrown over yours, entrapping you in his embrace. In his tangle of limbs, you slowly try to twist onto your back while prying him off.

He stirs, pulls you in tighter.

Which lands your rear in the unfortunate position of right atop his crotch. His crotch that is very much awake and way too excited.

Lethargy immediately expelled, your eyes open wide.

Morning wood is a usual occurrence for Taehyung, especially after a night of merciless teasing, but randomly a lot of the times. You shouldn’t be as surprised as you are, nor aroused. He has mentioned before how uncomfortable it can be, a blaring hard presence, a sore tension waking him up in an unforgiving manner. Which means that he can precariously wake any second n-

“Mmmm.” Voice an octave deeper than its norm, he hums, announcing his returning consciousness.

Taehyung’s morning wood and morning voice. You are being tested right now.

Your concupiscence has been gradually building up in the last few weeks from the lack of any sexual activity save for your own fingers and toys. It’s human nature, and completely goes against your will - but you feel the old friend that goes by the name lust stirring at the pit of your stomach.

At your proximity, the tip of his member digs deep between your cheeks, prodding at your entrance incontestably. Your whole body stiffens as the slowly waking Taehyung nuzzles his face in the crook of your neck habitually, arm tensing around you. Ever so slowly, you look back to steal a glance. His wildly curly hair falls over his forehead gracefully, lashes fanned out from his closed lids. He’s too beautiful for his own good.

Your core dampens and you quickly turn back around.

Fuck, please, no. You can’t be thinking about him like that. It’s so wrong. But his erection burrowed between your ass is banishing any clarity or sense from your head.

But God, you fucking miss this.

You’re going mad from deprivation. The dry spell of the past month had been voluntary, on the basis that you knew it wasn’t a healthy coping mechanism because you would only picture Taehyung over the faces of those nameless men. And because you knew no one knows you as well as he does, thus no one will succeed in satisfying you as well as him. Your sex drive was non-existent right after the break-up; sex simply didn’t cross your mind once while you were nursing your broken heart. And then it came ebbing back, though faintly and infrequently, you regained your libido and would find yourself fantasising on some lonesome nights.

But now, the situation at hand is that: you’ve allowed Taehyung to cuddle you in his sleep and you’ve consequently woken up to his undeniably hard cock poking between your legs. And he is seconds away from fully waking up as well.

So what now?

“Taehyung.” You say firmly, pushing his arm away from your breasts. It’s best if you call him out for it now rather than let it hang awkwardly in the air unsaid.

“Hmmmm..?” He rumbles sleepily. You don’t have to turn around to be able to envision his face, eyes slowly blinking open but reluctant as ever, true to his deep sleeper title.

“Taehyung.” This time you nudge back gently for emphasis. What it achieves is additional friction. Your whole lower half achse to grind back onto him, to slide over his hardened cock, to reach back and pump it in your hands.

Fuck.

You can’t.

You could, so easily, but you shouldn’t. You and Taehyung are completely over in every sense of your relationship. You can’t let this moment of weakness strip away all your efforts in moving on.

“Wha…” He mumbles, finally peeling his arm off you to stretch out. A loud yawn ensues. You take the opportunity of his loosened hold around you to twist back and pin him with a glare, hoping that your thirst is masked.

“You’re hard.”

Eyes still puffy, he stops mid-stretch at those two words. And looks down.

Did he… not notice? Or did he, in his morning hazy, momentarily get the situation confused and forget that you weren’t together?

Taehyung scrambles away from you so abruptly that he almost falls off the bed. “Fuck, I’m sorry. I didn’t- It just- I can’t control it, Y/N, you know I can’t.” His stammering is followed by his jerky movements to readjust his bulge as discreetly as one can allow in such situation. The detonation of terror on his face exacerbates your embarrassment. Because you simply don’t know what to do with yourself - with your core tingling in arousal simultaneously as your brow twitches in annoyance. When your vexed eyes meet his, you see another wave of panic crash onto him.

How did you get in this situation in the first place? If only you had just slept on the couch last night…

“Yeah, I know, stop reacting like that. Don’t make it weirder than it already is.” You berate, yanking the covers with all your strength over your shoulder and roll away from him. The distance is more for your own good. You can’t be near him right now, you can’t think about his fucking cock slipping into you.

You want to fuck. You want to fuck Taehy-

Stop that fucking thought.

“I’m sorry.” His morning voice, oh god. Burying your face into the pillow does little against the fluid pooling in your panties.

“Can you go to the toilet and… fix yourself.” When the words leave your mouth, the imagery of him fixing himself flashes before your eyes. And something pulses violently down there. Fucking fuck.

“Um, okay, sorry.” You try to not peek at him as he gets up from the bed, slightly limping as he makes his way to the toilet. But you succumb nonetheless.

His cheeks are scarlet, veins bulging on the side of his forehead, and you’re not sure if it’s from his embarrassment or the discomfort of the boner. Your eyes drop from his profile because his morning face has always been one of your weaknesses, except unfortunately for you, your eyes land on his bulge.

Another pulse down there.

You hate yourself. You feel dirty for even thinking about him like that because it’s so wrong. But then again, he’s probably thinking about you like that as well, hence the raging erection.

When the bathroom door shuts behind him, you let out a sigh. You don’t know how long you can keep hold of your sanity for like this. You’re swimming in a sea of confusing emotions: the constant melancholy you have of missing him and missing the way things were before you had fucked it up; the desperation to move on and understand that he was only a chapter of your life that is now closed; the bitter resentment that you have for yourself as a consequence of not being able to do so; and now the inescapable desire aching between your thighs because of how inherent these memories are of how he would fuck you until you cry like nobody else could.

What doesn’t help is the hint of a slow pumping rhythm from the toilet, and Taehyung’s ragged breathing.

Fuck.

You don’t want to think about how he’s jerking off on the other side of the wall right now, gripping his cock as he leans against the sink, head thrown back. But that’s exactly what you’re thinking about.

Is he thinking of you as he’s doing it? You’re not sure if you want him to, because while you wish he wouldn’t, you also hope that this lust you feel is reciprocated still, that you’re not the only one going crazy with arousal.

Your hand almost trails down to your core when his pace quickens, but his sharp inhale strikes at your inner righteousness. You stop, sit up and rush out to the patio for some fresh air.

Happy Valentine’s Sunday indeed.

.

The dough feels sticky in your hand despite the layers of flour you’ve doused your fingertips in. Baking has never been your forte, you simply don’t have the patience or precision for such a crafty hobby. You glance over to check on Taehyung’s progress at the other half of the counter.

He has the easy job. Of course, when it came to allocating roles between the pair of you in this baking session, the jam-making landed on him because there’s no way he would succeed in making the strawberry tart.

You can’t help but smile at the way his lips are puckered and brows drawn in concentration as he chops the berries as finely as he could. But the way the top half of his hair is pulled back into a little sprout of a ponytail… You gulp.

Neither of you have spoken a word of this morning’s awkward event; it had been a tacit agreement not to as soon as you made eye contact when he stepped out of the bathroom. It has set a lewd tone for the rest of your day. At every blank moment where your mind isn’t preoccupied, especially when you’re doing something as frivolous and kneading dough, your thoughts would wander to the memories of his warm rigid-

You stop yourself. You’re in public and he’s chopping strawberries right next to you.

You’ve noticed how, every time you’d have those sinful thoughts, your mood would lighten a little. The pang in your heart that used to always plague you would profoundly diminish. Of all things, of course sex is what eases your sadness the most, that’s just so characterisitic of you isn’t it?

“Is everything going well?” One of the baking assistants comes over to your counter for the seventh time now (yes you’re counting). She is a petite, rather pretty, pleasant looking girl. And you have not failed to notice how every time she checks up on you two, her attention is always solely on Taehyung. Here you are struggling with your asscheek of dough yet she only cares to ask how Taehyung, the strawberry chopper, fares?

“Yup.” Taehyung spares her a brief glance before dumping the diced pieces of fruit into the saucepan.

“Would you like some more flour?” You almost scoff out loud. You’re the one working with flour over here! Why is she asking him?

“No, thanks.” He doesn’t look up this time.

The assistant smiles to herself as if he’d said something particularly sweet to her. Until her eyes land on you. “Uh- What about you, ma’am?”

“All.” You land a punch on the buttery dough, death glare and all. “Good.” Another punch. Eyes not once wavering. She has the brains to scramble away.

You don’t have the right to assert this sort of possessiveness over Taehyung. But it’s the principle. This is a couple’s romantic holiday; she must be under the presumption that you and Taehyung are together, so how does she still dare to ogle over him like that?

“She’s flirting with you.” You rumble when she’s out of earshot.

Taehyung looks up at you from stirring his jam mixture, his lips still slightly pouted from his focus. “What? Who?”

“That baking assistant who came over just now.” You grit, trying to suppress this irrational vexation.

“Oh. Really?” Clueless, he scans across the room. “Was that the blonde or the brunette one?”

It’s a relief how truly oblivious he is that you don’t bother answering his question. It’s also completely unlike him. Since when did Kim Taehyung not notice when a girl takes interest in him? How fascinating must those strawberries be to capture his undivided attention like that?

“Would you like some flour?” You mimic, batting your lashes at him.

A wide grin spreads across his cheeks. To be honest, you don’t know what prompted you to display such friendliness to him all of a sudden. Perhaps what happened this morning, or even the fact that you slept on the same bed last night, breached one of the walls towering between you. It’s progress.

“You’ve got flour on your face.”

Fuck, again? You need to stop handling stuff like dirt and flour because they keep ending up on your face. “Ugh.” You huff, trying to let the embarrassment brush off. “Where?”

From the mischievous smirk that his grin morphed into, you should’ve known. Before you could suspect, Taehyung dabs one of his fingers into a small pile of flour and smears it down your cheek. “There.”

“You-!” You gasp, your own finger already caked in flour flying for a counter attack at his face.

But his reflexes are fast as he catches your wrist in lightning speed and tugs you towards him, his other hand simultaneously slathering another streak of white down the bridge of your nose. You tumble into him, foolish grin on your face as you twist your wrist out of his grip and manage to smear your floury thumb onto his chin.

Taehyung catches you before you could trip over your feet, smiling so wide for the first time this weekend that you can’t help but giggle. His grip on your waist feels warm. You’re close enough that you have to crane your neck to see him, close enough to see the individual hairs of his brows.

Yes, something has definitely shifted since last night.

The desire is a flame, devouring all your other senses until all you can focus on is his touch, his molten chocolate eyes, his tongue swiping out to wet his lips. You just want to…

Kiss him.

You admit it, you want to kiss him so fucking badly.

Ignition in his eyes, he stares at your lips too, smile slowly faltering. The hammering of your spastic heart cancels out all other noise in the room; you don’t see anything else except him. He doesn’t move, and neither do you. That lustful monster in your mind screams, Damn the consequences. Just kiss. Fuck being friends and fuck being strangers. Kiss him.

“Alright, lovebirds over there. These pastries won’t make themselves. Let’s get cracking!” Both of you jump and the sound of the head chef calling.

A bucket of ice cold water showers over you, extinguishing that prosperous flame. And reality materialises once again around you.

Not just the physical reality, but the reality of your situation as well - you can’t, you shouldn’t be acting like this around each other. There’s being friends, and then there’s this. The line is fine, it has always been.

It’s difficult to separate the weeds of these conglomerated emotions. You miss each other, want to kiss each other. You want the hurting to end, he wants to be friends. Your break up had been too messy for either of you to have a clear vision of what you need to do to overcome this.

Except maybe there is a cure-all solution to this.

You return to your ball of dough as Taehyung goes back to stirring his boiling jam. Yet your attention is now scattered, because a seed of an idea, most probably a very bad one, has been sown in your head.

.

It is most definitely a reckless idea, one that has the potential of going very south.

You bring it up during dinner, the supposed “romantic candlelit dinner with a string quartet” which neither of you are remotely dressed well enough for. “Taehyung, you know how you talked about closure and all that yesterday?”

Taehyung pauses, forkful of tenderloin steak stopped in midair. “Yeah..?” The hope in his voice is infused with an uncertain hesitation.

“I think we should have sex. One last time. For closure.”

The violin strikes a particularly high pitch in the background. Taehyung doesn’t move a hair for at least a good ten seconds before he blinks at you. This was definitely not what he’d anticipated from you, you can tell. But well, of course it isn’t. The idea surprised yourself.

“What? I think I heard something else, say that again?”

Oh boy. “No, you heard it right. I said I think we should sleep together for closure.” You sound unsteady to your own ears. “Release all this pent up sexual frustration we have for each other one last time and then be done with this. You said you want to be friends, right? I actually think it’s going to work for me, I’ll be able to move on afterwards, I’m almost certain.”

Frowning, Taehyung puts his fork down. “Really…? You want to have sex?”

“Yes.” You’re not even going to be shy about it at this point. You weren’t sure how this scene was going to play out but you’d envisioned it to go much smoother than this. “Do you want to?”

“I mean…” Colour of wine stains his cheeks. “Yeah… But are you sure? You were just saying last night how you can’t look at me without hurting. Do you understand why this is confusing for me?”

“I know it sounds contradictory and counterproductive, but-” You halt when you realise that there is no but. You don’t know how to verbalise the explanation that convinced you in your head. “Look at it as break up sex. It’s a common thing because it works. Like you said, we ended so quickly, in a blink of an eye. Just see this as the closing chapter of our relationship. If you don’t want to do it, just say it. I just had to throw it out there.”

Worry drips down your throat when his blank expression remains unchanged - worry that you’ve made a fatally wrong move to make things irreparably awkward now, if he so wishes not to follow through with your suggestion.

But then he nods, ponderously and maybe not entirely convinced, but you’ll take it. “I think you have a point… The thing about closure and ending this better than we did the first time round.”

“So… You’re down.”

“Down.”

So, the rest of dinner flies by with the two of you wolfing down your meal as hastily as you can. The entire time, your mind is buzzing with a strange sort of excitement for you are confident that this is necessary in accelerating your process of recovery.

You and Taehyung started with sex, so naturally, you should end with sex.

If you are eating cookies from a jar and that jar is suddenly taken away from you, you would be overcome with a surge of anger and unjust. You will always remember that awful person who took it from you. But if you are told that the jar will be taken away and the cookie in your hand is the last one you can ever have, you will cherish this last cookie and take your time eating it. It would taste different from all the other cookies you’ve had in the past - better, sweeter, because you know that it’s the last one.

Taehyung is quiet, indecipherable as you stroll back to the room. You understand his doubt, you really do. Because a night ago, if he’d have offered you the same suggestion, you would’ve thought he’s insane. But after the incident this morning, and the sparse flirtation throughout the day, there is a clear indication of unresolved sexual tension on both ends.

End this once and for all with a bang.

“Are you really up for it, Taehyung?” You check one last time, swiping the keycard at the door. “If you’re not comfortable, then we shouldn’t.”

When you look back as you push open the door, you catch his eyes, filled with purpose and trust. “No, you’re right. We need the closure.”

As the door closes behind you after you enter, it feels final - your fate is sealed, this is happening. You both stop in the middle of the room, facing each other. Shoulders tense and fists clenched. The bed has been made from this morning, a strawberry gift basket sitting on the coffee table in the corner of your eye.

Your breath feels shaky.

“So…”

“So…”

His throat is trembling too.

You break into a smile at how pathetic you’ve both become around each other, and once you do, Taehyung observably loosens up. “What are we being so nervous for?”

He smiles too, and takes a step towards you. “I don’t know.”

Bittersweet. It’s the best way to describe how you feel right now. Because this is it.

“Do you want to get in the hot tub? It feels like a waste if we don’t use it before we go. It’s our last night here.” The buzzing beneath your skin grows as you ask, and a spark lights up in his eyes at your idea.

“Say no more.” He presses a kiss on your forehead. It’s utterly out of the blue and fleeting, but enough to make your heart leap, both from the bewilderment and the knowledge that this will be one of your last acts of affection.

Taehyung walks past you towards the glass door, peeling off his shirt in the meantime to reveal the new tone of muscle on his back that he’s acquired in the past month. “I’m going to get some alcohol.” You maunder.

Your fingers are shaking as you rummage through the wine cooled for the drink you best see suitable. A strawberry champagne catches your eye. How fitting.

You can’t explain how jittery you feel as you completely strip off your clothes. This is the last time with Taehyung. The profound significance, the pressure, the emotions, tide after tide hitting you.

Two glasses of champagne in your hand, you inhale sharply, and let it all out.

This is it. This is the conclusive ending you asked for.

Warm water bubbling up to his chest, you find him seated in the hot tub awaiting you. The boxers discarded by the side implies that it was a last minute decision of his to go completely naked. And when he notices your nude form strutting out to the patio to join him, he sucks in. The way his eyes rake down your body then back up to your face sends flutters to you core, but also a nostalgic pang.

Eye contact does not break for a second as you climb into the hot tub and sit yourself adjacent to him. The chilly evening breeze with the heated effervescing water provides the perfect ambient temperature. Taehyung accepts the champagne you hand him, finger brushing over yours in a way that could only be intentional. He’s savouring every touch.

“To Mykonos, to the heatwave, to us and our last time.” You toast. The lump in your throat almost doesn’t permit the words to be said.

“To Mykonos, to the heatwave, to us and our last time.” He repeats after you. Clink. And down the drink goes.

A sigh, from both of you. The champagne is bittersweet, too. And you feel that surge behind your nose again, the sting behind your eyes.

“Isn’t it funny how the universe plays out?” Taehyung says, gaze falling to your lips, then your neck, then collar. He slides closer to you. “The first time we kissed was in water, the Mediterranean Sea. And now, the last time will be in water too.”

You don’t say anything for you need a moment to collect the tears. Then you place your glass on the edge of the tub and waddle through the water until you are perched on his lap. He receives you like you’re made of glass, gentle hands coming around your bare back to pull you down onto him. You brush away his dark untamed curls from his face, appreciating the thickness of his hair between your fingers because you don’t think you’ll get to touch it again. His hands trail low to the small of your back; you feel yourself brush up against his member, already hard and poised.

You want to tell him that you love him, that you will always always love him. But you know you would break if you say it.

So you just lean down to kiss him.

People like to describe their kisses like electricity, fire, a bolt of lightning striking down their spine. But for you, it really isn’t like that at all. When your lips meet, it feels like your first sip of cocoa on the first day of winter warm but not hot enough to burn, feels as though you’re interlocking fingers in a crowd of busy bodies and his thumb brushes over yours to tell you it’s okay, I’m right here and I won’t let go.

And you both pull away at the same time, a string of saliva between your mouths.

Because you both feel it, and it’s too much.

But this is the last time, you remind yourselves. Last time.

So your lips fall back onto him, fuelled by a passion you’ve never felt before. His mouth is velvet, fitting over yours so perfectly that it hurts. His hand finds your face, wet from being submerged, and he holds you more tenderly than he would an infant. Your chest is imploding from every ragged breath you take between hot kisses and you just let it.

Arousal pulling at your strings, your hand snakes down his front, dips into the water and wraps around his cock. “Ah…” Taehyung groans into your mouth. Your touch swipes across his tip. “Fuck, baby.”

Baby.

That is your undoing.

His teeth find your breasts, taking your nipple and teasing it until you’re whimpering in need. The roughness of his tongue tingles your sensitive bud so much that your eyes roll back and your vision is black and dotted with stars. The water providing you with a newfound ease, you pump him relentlessly, sitting up so you can slide his tip over your clit and along your folds. Because neither of you can wait, you’re cutting to the chase. Anything else can wait until subsequent rounds.

Every time his head brushes past your clit, a convulsion shoots up you. Your thighs quiver around him as he digs his fingers into the flesh of your ass. And when you inch by inch sink down onto his cock, the euphoric stretch in your walls numbs all other sensation.

You have missed this so much. It’s been so long.

“Fuck, you’re tight.” Taehyung’s voice is shaky, breath hitched.

“It’s ‘coz I haven’t…”

You don’t have to finish the sentence for him to understand and reply, “Me neither.”

The boost of reassurance and confidence that it grants you makes you roll your hips over his. From the absence of sex the past month, your cunt has grown unaccustomed to his size. Your entire core aches, but in the best way you could ask for. The water sloshes as you gain a steady rhythm. You have to bite down onto his ear to stop the volume at which you want to cry out because you remember that you are outdoors.

Taehyung’s face burrows into your neck, panting hard, but thrusting harder. You think back to every single one of your times together, from beginning to now. Your arms encircle tighter around him as you kiss the shell of his ear.

The initial pain in your walls is beginning to trickle away, leaving in its wake the claws of pleasure running up and down your body. Taehyung’s cock performs wonders on you that no one else can - it’s just a fact that you have to accept now. Nothing will compare.

Yet you can come to terms with it. You can gladly accept that Taehyung will be the best thing you’ll ever have.

But then you feel the dampness. At first, you mistaken it as droplets of water splattering onto you so you ignore it. And amidst you bouncing onto him, you don’t notice how Taehyung’s shoulders are shuddering.

You stop.

And feel the streaks of his tears running down your neck from where his face is pressed onto.

You can’t describe the shattering in your heart when you look down to find him crying into you. You can’t speak, can’t move, can’t even cry back at him.

It leaves you in wreckages, how he’s holding you close to him still, clinging on despite your how you’ve stopped, muffled sobs cracking out of this throat.

It takes a while for you to regain your voice, but his tears are still ceaseless. “Taehyung…”

When he looks up, you’re struck with another ammunition of distraught. The redness of his eyes, the sad distortion of his beautiful features, the endless endless tears...

“Y/N, I can’t. I really can’t.” His voice is hoarse, as if he’s been screaming silently.

“I-I’m sorry, you should’ve said. I’m so sorry I didn’t realise.” You’re stupefied from the horrendous sight of a completely broken Taehyung underneath you. You immediately climb off him.

“I-” He sniffs. “I love you so fucking much. I love you more than I love myself and I can only ever love you more each day.” You feel it again, the surge in your nose, the sting behind your eyes. You’re choked up, speechless, resenting yourself for putting him through this. You want to bury your head in the water and cry until you pass out. 

“Y/N, I didn’t ever want to lose you because I know I would lose myself. But then I lost you. And I lost myself.” His sobs strangle you by the throat.

“Taehyung, I’m sorry. About everything I’ve done. It’s all my fault and I will always hate myself for hurting you so much.” A single tear rolls down your face, you can’t hold it in anymore. Then a second, third. At the unstoppable oceans pouring from his eyes, you feel destroyed.

“I don’t even care about that! I’m not hurt by Junho or Jimin, I don’t care. Having to wake up every day knowing that you’re not beside me has been the most painful thing I’ve had to deal with. You are my home, Y/N. I don’t want to live in a life that you’re not a part of. I just can’t live without you and I can’t stand it. I can’t- I can’t...”

“Then don’t.”

Confusion draws his browns into a frown. “What?” His face is still warped in pain. You can’t stand it anymore either.

“Then don’t live without me.”

Your teeth dig into your lip to stop your own bawling.

All this conflict back and forth has taken such a toll on you and what for? At the end of the day, one unwavering fact stands true and untested: you love each other no matte what. So why should you let mistakes of the past keep you apart?

“What?” He says again, though understanding starts to seep through.

“I love you, Taehyung. I can’t not love you. I’m not myself if I don’t. So let’s stop this bullshit. I can’t live without you and you can’t live without me. So then let’s not leave each other again.”

You stare at each other, on this cool February night, warm water gurgling up to your collars, the cloudless night sky flaunting it’s collection of stars. And you promise to stay by each other for as long as you live.

“Okay.” That’s all Taehyung can muster.

“I’m yours, Taehyung. My heart is completely yours forever.” His violent flow of tears subside into gentle trickles.

“Okay.” He stands up in the tub, and you mirror his action. Water weeps off your skin, inviting the cold to infiltrate.

Nothing more needs to be said. Your mouths find each other the way they always do, the crashing of your lips, scraping of your teeth. A new tear rolls off Taehyung’s face and onto your fused lips, but it’s different this time. They’re tears of insuppressable joy, knowing that the taste of your tongue is entirely his, the porcelain of your skin is entirely his. You’re shivering from the temperature of the night, but you don’t feel the cold.

His hands come behind your thighs and lift you up to his face level, wrapping your legs around your torso the way he did in Mykonos. With careful steps, he carries you back into the room, past the bed, that poor couch that was collateral damage to your mutual pining, and sets you down onto the bathroom countertop.

When he finally breaks away from the kiss and takes in your beauty under the bright light of the room, there is no less than absolute adoration in his eyes. Never anything less. “I love you and I’m yours.”

Taehyung wraps the only massive white towel he can find around your wet naked body, disregarding the cold attacking his own. You frown at him, hooking him between your legs so you can fling the towel over his shoulders as well.

“I love you and I’m yours.” You say back, blotting his body dry. It’s such a simple statement, yet the meaning it holds for the two of you is so heavy. They’re the very words that you have never found the strength to say to each other, until now.

“Say that again.” You melt under his smile, not a single trace of worry to be found in your brain.

“I love you. And I’m yours.”

You twist your neck back to follow his glare at reflection in the mirror of your huddled bodies under the towel. Cheeks pushed up from glee, heads leaning against each other, and just like that - all your heartache vanishes without a trace.

“Mine?” Taehyung pecks your brow, still smiling.

“Yours.” Legs clamping around him tighter, you turn to face him. “And how are you this hard again already?” His cock’s ability to stay erect is astounding, truly.

“Don’t you know? You could breathe and my cock would be hard.” Laughter erupts both your chests and it’s the most beautiful sound you’ve ever heard.

Allowing the towel to drop around you, your hand slips between your bodies to clutch onto his length. Responsiveness ripples through his toned abdomen. “I want to suck…” You nuzzle your nose to his, your breaths amalgamating.

Taehyung sighs into your mouth. “But I want to-” Your grip tightens around him as you drag out a pump, eyes wide with feign innocence. “Okay, what the fuck, that’s not fair.”

“You’ll get to do whatever you want to me after.” You trail your mouth along his jaw.

“F-Fine.”

He lets you slide off the marble counter with the skin of his neck pinched between your teeth. When he realises that you’re marking him in clouds of purple, his head falls back and gives himself up as your canvas. You understand the appeal of hickeys now. For you two, it’s an agreement, a promise, an exchange of trust. You continue down his front, teeth grazing his nipples, lower and lower, kissing along the protrusion of his pelvic bone. Until you arrive at his cock.

“Do you remember the whole ice cube thing during the heatwave?” You run your finger up his length, over his oozing slit. The heatwave feels like an eon ago, but also like just yesterday.

Stiffening, Taehyung looks down. “Yes…”

“How about I pay you back for that one?” You take his shut eyes and sparse nod as compliance because you know he’s not capable of words right now.

You dash away to collect a glass of ice from the drink cooler, but on your way find something even better. Something you’ve always wanted to try.

Taehyung is slowly touching himself when you return, mildly surprised by the second item you brought back with you. “Whipped cream? Isn’t that from the gift basket?”

“You up for it?” A smirk stretches.

“Very up and very hard.” He lets go of his member and watches you drop to your knees.

To moisten him first, you slowly lap circles around his head, applying considerable pressure and letting the tip of your tongue tease at his sensitive opening. You look up when he moans, and takes his girth into your mouth, sliding his cock further and further down your throat until he pokes the back. Then you pull up with a pop, echoing within the walls of the bathroom.

You take two ice cubes from the glass, one placed between your lips, and the other to massage over your clit. The icy sensation strikes a numbing sensation into your core when it touches your bud of nerves. The cube in your mouth, you begin to trace slowly from the base of his shaft all the way up.

A string of profanities leaves Taehyung at the temperature, and seeds a satisfaction between your legs.

The ice is melting quickly from the heat of your mouth so you waste no time to guide it down to his scrotum resting on your palm. “Fuck.” He whines, his whole length twitching.

When this cube dissolves into nothing but a puddle of your tongue, you take another, ruthlessly educing those curses from him. His tip is the most sensitive part of him, so that’s where you focus on, smearing the edges of the cube around the curve of his head. His thighs tense in euphoric spasms.

The whipped cream comes next. With a few shakes of the canister, you hold his cock pointed towards yourself and view the spiral of white untainted cream unfold onto his head.

“Ah!” Taehyung yelps.

“You good?” You glance up to check that he still has a rein on his sanity.

“It just scared me.” You chuckle and place a kiss on his shaft.

“You should be scared.”

Eyes lock on his, you watch him watch you vulgarly smear the cream all over his cock with your lips. Its sweetness oozes into your mouth and sinks into your tongue. “Mmm.” You hum at the pleasant taste. Then you start to suck, the cream providing you with a lubrication that your spit has never been able to replicate. His cock glides into your mouth with such little resistance that you gag around him.

“Oh fuck, that feels so good.” He can’t look away from you, your hollowed out cheeks and large eyes as you bob your head deeper and deeper. Ribald wet sloppy noises squeaking from your mouth. “Uh fuck.”

Taehyung’s fingers entangle in your hair, guiding your motion in and out. The cream swirls in your mouth, the taste prompting you to suck harder until your mouth adheres like a second skin to his cock. He’s soon panting, even as you come up for air and to spray more cream on him.

“Yeah, keep going. Can I come in your mouth?” His eyes are almost screwed shut, but still open to keep watching. The rise and fall of his chest, and the bulging vein down the side of his cock - he’s close.

You keep sucking, relishing in the taste of the cream, the ease at which his tip glides along your throat, your own fluid dripping from your cunt.

“Fuc- Ah!” Gripping your hair tight, he thrusts hard into you as he cums, ribbons of his own cream mixing in your mouth. Taehyung’s dick pulses violently at the shaft. You watch his jaw fall open, brows pinch together, as the liquid dribbles down your throat.

You pull his length out of you with a great gasp and swallow all the remnants. “Shit. How was that?” Out of breath, you wipe the mess around your mouth with the dropped towel.

“Give me a second to recover from that, baby.” Arms on the countertop to support him, Taehyung lets his head droop back so far that his hair touches his elbows. You wet the towel at the sink and clean his slowly limping member. “Fuck that was…”

When his eyes open again, there is a fury that you know to be afraid of. He hauls you up onto your two feet and latch onto your lips, not caring about the filthy things they’ve just done to him.

“I need to be inside you.” He grumbles. “Give me five, ten minutes and I'll be ready again.”

“Hmm.” Arms sliding around his neck, you let him walk you onto the bed, hovering over you while his hands fondle your breasts that have become lonely. The insides of your thighs are slick with your arousal - that doesn’t go unnoticed.

Scissoring your folds open with his long digits, this thumb finds your clit, bulging and throbbing with desire. The vibrations coursing into you as he starts to rub compels you to arch back. You are really just a plaything when under his touch, as malleable as dough.

“Taehyung!” And for some reason, you calling out his name flips an animalistic switch in him.

With your neck fully exposed, he ceases the opportunity to nibble all over your unmarred skin, leaving angry blotches in return of your marks on him. This thumb is working quickly, the pressure at your clit superimposing second by second.

“Wait.” He lifts his head up abruptly, though fingers still going. “Do you want to sit on my face?”

Your heart jolts in excitement at the mere mention of it. “Didn’t even have to ask.��� It has always been something you’ve wanted to try but never gotten around to.

Swapping positions, Taehyung reclines onto his back while you situate your knees on either side of his face. His hands grip onto your waist, guiding your descent onto his thrill-teeming face.

An incredible shock of pleasure fires up your spine when he takes your clit between his lips and sucks. This position grants him an unobstructed access to your pussy, no awkward angle, no cramping neck. So the assail he commences is totally, and unfortunately for your lucidity, merciless. His hands grapple onto your freely hanging breasts, rolling your nipples between fingertips.

Crying aloud from the ecstatic twisting sensation, you feel your eyes water. It’s almost too much, the mind warping accumulation of tension in your cunt. “Like that, Taehyung.”

One of his hands leaves your breast only to insert his digits into your dripping slit. Your thighs are aching, close to giving way; you don’t think you can withstand this tremendous stimulation.

His tongue doesn’t stop and neither do his fingers. Breathing through his nose heavily, he continues to coil your core into loops and loops of hypertension

You’re so close, so close.

And you’re there.

The pulsing waves of your orgasm sweep you away. You don’t even hear your own moans, just the roaring of your blood in your ears. Your whole body writhes above Taehyung, but your muscles don’t permit you to move off him while so ransacked by this high.

It last long, nearing half a minute before your senses come back to you.

And finally, you sag and topple over, trusting Taehyung to catch you and roll you onto your back.

“What the fuck.” You pant, low frequency pulsations still resonating down your legs, in awe of how he never fails to tip you over the edge. And the striking difference between the male and female orgasm is that, unlike Taehyung, you immediately want more when you’re done. “Taehyung, please, I need you to fuck me.”

His reply startles you. “No.” You open your eyes and find him regarding you with such reverence that only confuses you more.

“No?”

Cupping your face in his palm as he props himself on his elbow over you, Taehyung leans down and kisses your nose. Then your mouth. “Y/N.” Your temple. “I want to.” Your ear. “Make love to you.”

He paints a constellation of wet kisses all over you.

“How does that sound, baby?”

You immediately pull him back onto your own lips, a desperate craving as you kiss him back hard. “I love you.” You really do. It’s the one thing you’re the most certain about in this world.

“Ahhh.” Readjusting over you yet still keeping the close distance between your faces, he takes his cock in his hand and pumps. “You know you do to me when you say those words?” He kisses you again, so softly that his lips feel like rose petals. As he lines his tips along your entrance, you shut your eyes and prepare for it.

“I love you.” You repeat. And he sinks in.

It feels different, so entirely different from the previous time tonight. There is not an ounce of concern, of doubt, of hesitancy. You feel safe underneath him, secure.

His tender moans unravelling into songs of vulnerability. “I love you, too.” He whispers into your ear, and you understand what he means by how much these three words have an effect because them alone are almost enough to capsize you again.

His thrust, though lacking its usual roughness, does not lack in anything else. Every time he plummets into you, his mouth finds yours. Your hands are interlocked, pinned down onto the pillow. The surprising intimacy of that act overflowing to the brim. And you swear you could see heaven right then and there.

You feel nothing but love and devotion throughout.

He makes love to you over and over again this night, Valentine’s night. And despite your usual preferences, the sensations between your legs, in your chest, in your mind, are unrivaled.

Transcendental.

When it’s all over, when you’re nothing more than sweaty skin, damp hair, and hearts full of love for each other, you spend your time taking in each other’s details. His unblemished complexion. The beauty mark under the lashes of his right eye. The perfect shape of his cupid's bow that doesn’t seem humanly possible. Everything.

“What we had didn’t work, but we’re not going to repeat those mistakes again, I won’t hurt you again, I promise.” You whisper softly as you caress his cheek. “It’s all or nothing. And you have all of me.”

The glaze over his sincere eyes hasn’t left yet, though you don’t suppose your eyes are completely dry either.

You continue, “Seeing you break down like that today was… the hardest thing for me to witness. So much worse that our stupid pointless fights, and the nights where I would cry myself to sleep. And I can’t apologise enough for causing you that much pain.”

Taehyung’s eyes trailing down bashfully, and you almost worry that he’d cry again.. “I… I can’t believe the day finally came where I cried during sex…” You let out a round of laughter at what he chooses to dwell on.

“I love you so much that it makes me sick. I’m honestly disgusted and mortified by myself.” You snicker in his hair.

“Look, what about me? I love you so much that I cried during sex. Not even just a tear either. Full on sobs. I think I’m the bigger loser here.” The fact that he can joke about the situation reassures you that he’s over it. The mood once again lightens.

“All this just because you couldn’t keep your dick in your pants during a heatwave.”

He pulls you closer into his rumbling chest, laughing to himself as he toys with your earlobe between his teeth.

You fall asleep in each other’s arms, for the first time as each other’s lovers. And for the rest of the nights that come after.

.

A/N: Alexa, play ‘Fuck it I love you’ by Lana Del Rey.

Thank you everyone for the incredible love and support you’ve unfailingly shown Heatwave. As my first fic, I am of course so very attached to these characters and ending this series is such a bittersweet feeling. It’s been such a lovely journey to write this couple and although I don’t plan on writing anything for them in the next few months, I won’t close off that possibility completely.

Love you!

- Kristy

.

27/04/20

© Copyright 2020

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[meowmerson]

Waitwaitwait does this mean we gonna get head boy/head girl part two AND three?????? 🥺🥺🥺🥺

do u kno what happens when i try to only write smut i end up with 7000 words and still no smut i hate myself anyway heres part 2 to the head boy head girl thing and i still haven’t gotten to the smut part IM SORRY

I will post these all together once its complete so ppl can read them all together lmao

--

“So, Hermione,” Lavender started as if she was going to say something of value, but when Hermione raised her eyes from her schoolwork, Lavender said nothing at all. Instead she waggled her eyebrows suggestively, and Hermione knew immediately what she was implying.

“Stop it.” Hermione snapped.

Thankfully, she stopped the hideous eyebrow-waggling, but she did not drop the subject. “I’m just saying, you and Tom have been spending a lot of time together, and you haven’t even—“

“Lavender, I swear to Merlin—“

“Haven’t even said anything about it!” Lavender bulldozed over Hermione’s interjection, and Ginny, who was painting her nails bright shades of Red and Gold for the upcoming Quidditch match, nodded solemnly along. “I mean come on, You can’t leave us hanging like this.”

“I’m not leaving you hanging.” Hermione said firmly, putting on what Ron often referred to as her Mum-voice, “There is nothing to hang on, because nothing is happening, Lavender.”

“Yes, Lavender,” Ginny interjected, arranging her face into a scowl and mimicking Hermione’s tone of voice, “Tom only sometimes sticks his hand up my skirt in Potions class—“

Hermione sputtered furiously, and Ron—who was nearby playing a game of chess with Harry—groaned.

“Riddle has never, not once, stuck his hand up my skirt anywhere, let alone in the middle of class!” Hermione protested, turning a furious glare on Lavender, “Stop making things up!”

“I saw it!” Lavender insisted.

“Can you lot talk about something other than Tom Bloody Riddle for once?” Ron griped.

“Tom and Hermione are dating?” Harry asked, clueless as ever, as Ginny roared laughing.

“Aw, shit,” Ginny said after she calmed down, staring balefully at her nails, “I fucked it up.”

“Give me,” Lavender said, sliding off the couch to sit by Ginny and grabbing her hand and the bottles of nail polish.

“I am not, nor will I ever be, dating Tom Riddle!” Hermione protested, feeling very much like a broken record at this point.

“Then why was his hand up your skirt?” Lavender asked.

“It was never up my skirt!” Hermione exclaimed.

“I know what I saw!” Lavender snapped.

“Aw, shit—“ Ginny said, pulling her hand away and holding up her index finger to show Lavender had accidentally swiped the red all the way down to her second knuckle, “Lavender what the hell?”

“Sorry,” Lavender shrugged, unbothered in the face of Ginny’s ire, and she added, “Just got so hot and bothered thinking of—“

Hermione knew what she was going to say, and had heard enough, so with a groan, she rose to her feet, packed up her parchment, and stomped out of the Gryffindor common room.

“So,” Harry spoke up as she was on her way out, “Are they dating or not?”

—

Tom Riddle had never, not once, stuck his hand up Hermione Granger’s skirt.

He did often have his hand on her arm when they walked together, as they sometimes did when he descended upon her like a vulture and she could think of no rational reason to tell him to fuck off. He did, at times, let his hand very briefly settle against the small of her back if he was saying goodbye, or saying hello, or brushing by her in the corridor. And perhaps, once, when he was sitting by her in potions class—as he had taken to sitting by her in every class they shared together, which was most of them—he may have very briefly, and very innocently, laid his hand on the bare skin of her thigh where her skirt had ridden up, just to get her attention as he pointed toward an ingredient on the far side of their table that he wanted her to pass to him. And maybe, maybe she had flinched a bit violently, and hurriedly fixed her skirt as she stood, and maybe she moved so quickly that he didn’t have time to retract his hand before she was already standing, stepping away from him, and maybe his fingers trailed down her thigh very, very slightly as he pulled his hand away, and maybe Hermione noticed the look of unrelenting glee on Lavender’s face as she gaped from across the room.

But he had not put his hand up her skirt. Lavender had a disgustingly over-reactive imagination. And Hermione certainly did not at any point think he was trying to put his hand up her skirt, absolutely not, that is not at all what went through her head when she first felt his fingers brush her inner thigh.

It wasn’t even her thigh really. Barely. It was closer to her knee, really, and she didn’t think of it often. She didn’t.

She thought, more often, of Malfoy. He had returned to his usual self, he muttered under his breath when she answered questions in class, called her a know-it-all, cornered her, Harry, and Ron in the corridor with his cronies when he was in the mood to start a fight. But he hadn’t called her a mudblood in the weeks following the incident, not once.

And she still couldn’t figure out why.

She knew how, that was easy to figure out. Obviously Tom Riddle had either threatened or tortured him into refusing to use that work against her, but she still wasn’t sure why. Similarly, she wasn’t sure why Tom Riddle insisted on being around her as often as possible.

He sat by her in class, sought her out in the library, he made conversation during rounds which they completed together every night. She entertained his peculiar behavior, but she didn’t try to piss him off anymore, not with the memory of Malfoy standing in front of the Great Hall, head bowed, contrite, directly following her disagreement with Tom the night before.

She just wanted to figure him out. Sometimes he would say something benign, something ordinary, something she had heard a thousand times before, like “you are an extraordinarily bright witch, Hermione,” and she would find herself so desperate to know what he meant by it, because it wasn’t like him to mean exactly what he said. She wanted to crack open his skull and peer into his mind, dig deep into is psyche and unearth all his little secrets, find out why he was the way he was, find out what he was doing, find out what he wanted.

She heard a knock on her door, and she looked up from her book. She felt her heart race for no logical reason, except for the fact that he had never once knocked on her door before.

“Yes?” She called, and glanced at the clock. It was too early for rounds. He didn’t answer, clearly preferring for her to open the door instead of speaking through it. She frowned, but stood and opened the door nonetheless.

“Hello, Hermione,” He smiled.

“It’s a bit early for rounds.” Hermione pointed out.

“Yes, I’m aware.” He said, still smiling, but it felt a bit more mocking now, “I was hoping you might join me for tea before our rounds today.”

A bit strange, but the request was not entirely out of nowhere. She had gotten used to his attempts to be in her company at all hours. Still, he had never actually invited her to do anything, had only ever sidled up to her in open spaces whenever the opportunity presented itself. “Is everything alright?” She asked.

“Of course,” He said, and gave her an innocent sort of expression, one that suggested he had no idea why she was asking that, “Just in want of your company.”

There was a small, double-sided smile on his face. Hermione wish it didn’t make her heart race.

“Fine,” She agreed, knowing she should say no, but unable to recall the reasons she should say no for.

They sat on the two armchairs by the fire, and for some reason Tom knew exactly how she took her tea (strong, milk, no sugar) and Hermione was mildly interested to see he took his tea black, no sugar. For reasons she refused to think about, she filed that little tidbit of information away, in case she needed it later.

“Has Slughorn invited you to his upcoming party?” He asked her.

“Obviously,” Hermione said, taking a sip of the tea he had prepared for her. Perfectly made, just like everything else he did.

“Perhaps you would like to go together?” He asked her.

It wasn’t surprising, or at all strange, for him to ask her. She knew he would. But she is still struck by the strangeness of the situation, of their situation, and so she hesitated. She wasn’t used to being on Tom’s radar. She had been battling against him for the place at the top of their year ever since she started at Hogwarts, but he had never really given her more than a glance outside of classes. She had expected that to change, at least a little bit, once they were forced together as head boy and head girl, but this was…

She knew it stemmed from their argument, from the first (and only) night she had seen him truly open, honest, and angry, but she couldn’t understand how point a lead to point b.

He could be covering his tracks, she thought suddenly. He could be luring her into a false sense of security, presenting himself to her and everyone around them as nothing more than a besotted classmate, so that when she one day meets her untimely demise, he is the farthest thing from a suspect.

A foolish plan, though, really, because she wasn’t a simpering idiot who would drop all her suspicions just because of…

But she hadn’t mentioned her suspicions on a long time, she realized. She held on to them, clutched them close to her chest, ready to brandish them the moment she finally could and say ‘look, look at him now, see him for what he truly is!’ But she hadn’t voiced her concerns to any of her friends for weeks, nearly a month now. If she were to die tonight, for example, it would seem to her friends that she had dropped her suspicions long ago. And Tom wasn’t foolish enough to leave any evidence if he decided to off her.

It struck her suddenly, that she hadn’t watched him while he was pouring her tea.

She glanced down at her cup, already a quarter empty, and then back at him. He quirked a brow, and it was then she realized she had never answered his question.

She cleared her throat, her heart suddenly racing in her chest, “Slughorn actually suggested that to me.” She said.

“He suggested it to me as well.” Tom said, smiling kindly, and Hermione looked at her cup of tea again.

She felt hot, but that could be because of the fire, or because of her fear, or because of the way Tom Riddle tilted his head and observed her under dark lashes. She willed herself to calm down, paid close attention to any symptoms of poison, but felt none.

Don’t be ridiculous, she suddenly chastised herself. The stupidest thing he could do would be poison her in their shared common room.

“Is that why you’re asking?” She asked, slightly breathless in her panic. She hadn’t quite calmed her heart down yet, and couldn’t distract herself from searching for symptoms of poisoning in her body.

“No,” He said, sounding genuinely surprised by her question, “I ask because I would like for us to go together.”

Hermione tapped her finger against the rim of her mug, “Well,” She started, and readied herself to lie through her teeth, “I’m afraid I already asked Ron if he would go with me.”

Tom got a very particular look on his face then, as he often did when she did something to go against what he wanted. He went very still, and his face went very blank, his eyes dropped to watch her finger tap against her mug over and over and over, and she watched his jaw twitch.

“Ronald Weasley.” He said darkly, and suddenly Hermione wondered if it was a mistake to say that. She thought of Draco Malfoy, shaking in an abandoned classroom, terrified out of his mind, and started turning over things to say to fix the dark look in Tom Riddle’s eyes as he said her friend’s name.

“I don’t appreciate Slughorn trying to set up his students as if it is any of his business,” She said, watching his expression closely, “And I had a feeling you might ask me.” Tom finally looked up, met her eyes again, a curious gleam in his eye. “I’m sure it isn’t a mystery to you as to why I might not want to accompany you anywhere.”

His jaw twitched. It might’ve been the wrong thing to say. “I had thought we might be passed this.” He said, “After all the time we have spent together.”

Hermione still didn’t take another sip of her tea, even though she had gone this long without any reaction, and she was passed the panic that said that Tom Riddle might be poisoning her,  but she kept it in her hands regardless. “What is the point of this, Riddle?”

“The point of this was to ask you to Slughorn’s party,” Tom insisted, “Only for me to discover that you have, for some incomprehensible reason, decided to go with Ronald Weasley.”

“Ron is my friend.” Hermione said firmly. “Why are you so angry, Riddle?”

Tom blinked, then he turned and set his mug of tea on the table to the side. He leaned forward, elbows on his knees, and watched her very closely, “I’m not angry, Hermione.” He said calmly.

She was forgetting herself again. She tried to remember Malfoy, trembling, afraid, she tried to think of Ron, and the situation she was putting him in, but Tom Riddle was so confusing, and she couldn’t figure out just what the hell he was after, and it infuriated her. She put her tea on the table as well, and mimicked his posture. “Well, I am.” She said.

Tom tilted his head, just a little, like he often did when something fascinated him. After a moment of observing her, he said, “You have such a Gryffindor approach to things, Hermione. I do find it refreshing.”

He certainly had a way of knowing exactly what to say to piss her off. “Why are you following me everywhere?” She demanded, “Why are you always asking me questions? Why are you asking me to accompany you to party?”

“I seek you out because I enjoy your company.” He answered quickly, and though his response seemed candid it still felt like a farce, “I ask you questions because I find you fascinating. I am asking you to accompany me to Slughorn’s party for the same reasons.”

“I don’t trust anything that you say.” Hermione snapped, and Tom Riddle smiled wide. She hated when he smiled like that, it showed off his straight, white teeth and dimpled his cheek. She felt that smile deep in her gut.

“That’s why I like you.” He said.

Hermione grit her teeth, “You know what?” She said, “You can do rounds by yourself tonight. I suddenly feel exhausted.”

She stood without another word, stomped off to her room and shut the door. Tom didn’t stop her.

—

She did go to bed early, but her sleep was far from restful, and when she woke, it was due to images of Ron shaking with wide-eyes, terrified, writhing under Tom Riddle’s wand. She snapped up in bed, chest heaving as if she had just been drowning, gulping in lungfuls of air and clutching her wand tight in her fist.

She had to check on Ron.

She crept out of her room without even checking the time, but given the dark common room, it must be late, definitely late enough for Tom to have finished his rounds and returned to turn off the lights. Enough time for him to torture Ron into submission.

She hurried through the corridors, peering around corners like a paranoid idiot, until she made her way to the Gryffindor common room. She ascended the stairs to the boys dorm as quietly as she could, found the 7th year dorm room, and crept inside.

It was dark, and all the boys were asleep. Most had pulled their curtains shut, save for a few, but she had to peek through every curtain until she found Ron’s bed.

He was fast asleep, peaceful, and as far as she could tell, unharmed. She realized then that her hands were shaking, and she didn’t know what to do next.

So she crawled into his bed, sat at his feet, her wand held tight in her hand.

She couldn’t even use the excuse that she was overreacting, not exactly. She knew that Riddle was capable of causing great harm to people, Malfoy was a perfect example, and for all of her accusations, Tom had never once denied it. So he might want to harm Ron, he might do anything if he felt it would get what he wanted.

It would help if she could figure out what he was trying to do. If he was trying to earn her trust, to erase her suspicions, then harming Ron would make no sense. But if he was trying to control her, to manipulate and silence her, then of course he would hurt her friends.

He wouldn’t do it in the Gryffindor common room, this she knew. It didn’t make her feel better, and it didn’t convince her to leave.

Unfortunately, Ron chose that moment to wake up. It happened slowly, and Hermione still wasn’t quick enough to leave or hide. His eyes fluttered and he shifted in his sleep. His ankle kicked her side, and in his half-asleep state, he felt her out with his foot for a moment as if trying to figure out what was on his bed. She didn’t move, and didn’t say anything, just sat there and watched him wake up, knowing he was going to think she was crazy.

Blearily, once he realized he could not figure what was on his bed just by foot-sight, he opened his eyes and looked at her.

He flailed, his arms getting caught up in his duvet, and he screamed.

“Shh!” Hermione snapped, holding her hands out as if to forcibly make him remain still, but she didn’t actually touch him, “Shush, its just me!” She kept her voice low, as quiet as she could, and Ron stared at her as he cowered against his headboard, his face twisted into confusion and incredulity.

“What the fuck are you doing here?” He hissed.

She realized she had no rational answer. “I….well—“

“Why are you sitting on my bed in the dark watching me sleep?” Ron squeaked.

“I was not watching you sleep.” Hermione rolled her eyes.

“Oh right okay—what were you doing then?” Ron hadn’t calmed down, and didn’t seem like he would calm down any time soon, “Plotting my death?”

“No!” Hermione objected.

“Then what the bloody hell are you doing?” He asked hysterically.

Hermione hesitated, “I…uh…” Then she sighed irritably through her nose, “I know you won’t believe me, but Riddle—“

“Are you fucking kidding me?” Ron interrupted, “You gave me a fucking heart attack in the middle of the night to tell me about Tom Bloody Riddle?”

“Ronald, listen—“

“You’re bloody mental!”

The curtain was thrown open, “Hey, what’s going on—“

Ron screamed again, and Harry jolted, staring between Ron and Hermione with confused eyes, his glasses askew.

“Weasley, will you shut the fuck up?” A voice snapped in the dark, Hermione was pretty sure that was Seamus.

Harry crawled in and pulled the curtain shut, and Hermione cast a quick Muffliato. “What’s going on in here?” Harry asked, still glancing between them as he straightened his glasses.

“Hermione has lost her fucking mind!” Ron threw his hands up.

“I have not!” Hermione snapped.

“Yeah, uh,” Harry tucked his legs up, wrapped his arms around his knees, “What are you doing here, Mione?”

Hermione considered lying, but she remembered the fear she felt drinking that cup of tea, the fear that she might die without her friends knowing her suspicions, so she was honest. “I just thought…Riddle freaked me out, I thought—“

“Bloody fucking hell,” Ron muttered.

“—I thought maybe he would do something to you, Ron.” She finished.

“We’re still on that?” Harry asked, sounding more confused than exasperated as opposed to Ron’s huff.

“Yes,” Hermione said firmly, “Yes, we are.”

“And this couldn’t wait until the morning?” Ron griped, “You know, after sleep?”

“Why would Tom want to do something to Ron?” Harry asked.

“Because I told him that Ron and I are going to Slughorn’s party.”

“You what?” Ron whined.

“We’re going.” Hermione said firmly, and give Ron his due, he didn’t argue on that point, just turned his eyes to the ceiling and silently resigned himself to his fate.

“Why would you tell him that?” Harry asked, looking increasingly confused.

“Because Riddle asked me, and I needed a reason to say no.” Hermione explained.

Harry, somehow, looked even more confused. “Ok, wait, so…you and Tom aren’t dating?”

“No, I am not dating Tom Sodding Riddle!” Hermione exclaimed.

“She’s lost it,” Ron whispered to Harry, clearly aware that Hermione could hear every word he was saying, “She’s lost her damn mind.”

“Fuck you, Ron.” Hermione snapped.

“Well,” Harry said brightly, “Since we’re all up, how about a trip to the kitchens?”

Hermione scowled.

“What do you say, Head Girl?” Ron asked, “Gonna deduct house points?”

“Let’s just go to the kitchens.” Hermione sighed.

They didn’t really understand, when she tried to explain it. And every time she said that she couldn’t understand what Tom was after, they exchanged this look like they thought she was being dense, and then refused to explain to her what they were thinking.

—

It wasn’t precisely that Tom and Hermione didn’t speak in the time between their conversation and Slughorn’s party, but they certainly didn’t talk any more than absolutely necessary. Tom didn’t spend quite as much time with her, but that was mostly due to the fact she spends nearly every waking moment with Ron, much to Ron’s annoyance.

“Mione,” Ron said once, standing in front of her from her seat on the grass nearby where Quidditch practice was taking place. She looked up from her book. “Wouldn’t you rather read that in the library?”

“Wouldn’t you rather mind your business?” She asked brightly.

He huffed, and leaned forward to speak quietly, “Hermione, I know you’re going through like a mental breakdown right now—“

“Ronald—“ Hermione started warningly.

“—But you’re really screwing with my game, you know?”

“Your quidditch game?” Hermione asked, confused.

“My lady game!” Ron exclaimed, then hurriedly quieted himself, “No girls will talk to me because they all think you’re into me now.”

Hermione shrugged. “I don’t see why that would deter anyone who really wanted to be with you, Ron.”

“It does when they’re all afraid of you.” He insisted.

“No one is afraid of me, Ron.” Hermione said, turning back to her book. Ron just huffed again and dropped the subject, returning to his game.

Tom and Hermione still did rounds together, but their conversations were all surface level. They talked about classes, they talked about books. They never mentioned Slughorn’s party, not once.

He also had ceased the unnecessary touching, although he continued to sit beside her in classes.

Hermione thought perhaps it was a change in tactic, and continued to follow Ron around no matter how many times he called her a paranoid guard dog.

—

Slughorn’s parties were always a bit stiff, and a bit awkward. Hermione had been invited to them every time they occurred since her third year, and there were never more than about 15 people, guests included, so it was near impossible to avoid anyone if they were there. She kept this in mind while standing by Ron at the side of the room, her eyes constantly searching for Riddle, who had yet to make his appearance.

“Would you stop fidgeting?” Hermione said quietly to Ron as he rolled his shoulders and shifted his weight from foot to foot.

“I hate these stupid things.” Ron grumbled.

“Stop being such a baby,” Hermione said, turning to face him and eyeing the sad state of his dress robes. She sighed through her nose and moved to stand in front of him, tugging his robes into place so that he looked like less of a mess.

“Stop mothering me,” Ron said, pushing her hands away.

“I am not mothering you,” Hermione argued, “I don’t mother.”

She straightened his collar.

“Stop doing that!” Ron said, slapping her hand away. She punched him in the arm as revenge and he winced and stopped battling her as she straightened up his robes.

“What is this?” She asked, fingering a stain on his collar.

“I had a snack before I came.” Ron shrugged.

“You’re disgusting.” Hermione said, pulling her wand to clean that spot on his collar, “I can’t believe you are willing to be seen like this.”

“At least my hair doesn’t look like—“ Hermione glared up at him and Ron snapped his mouth shut with a clack, before opening it again to say, “—like a uh—beautiful fluffy cloud.”

Hermione rolled her eyes.

“You can stop fussing now—“ Ron said, reaching up to bat her hands away again, and this time she caught his wrist.

“I’m not fussing,” She said firmly, and glanced briefly around the room, “I’m—“

She saw Tom Riddle in the far corner of the room, by the refreshments, and who should be on his arm but Pansy fucking Parkinson.

“Ow, Hermione, stop—“ Hermione jerked her attention back to Ron and realized she was digging her nails into his wrist. She hurriedly let go, and Ron rubbed at his now sore wrist, “No need to injure me just because your boyfriend—“

“Not my boyfriend.” She muttered under her breath.

“—found himself a new girl.”

She glanced back over to Pansy and Tom. Tom patted Pansy’s hand on his arm as she laughed at something that probably wasn’t funny, she had never heard Tom say anything funny in her entire life.

“Being a bit obvious, Mione.” Ron chided her.

“Obvious?” Hermione said, turning back to Ron, “Obvious how?”

Ron fixed her with a knowing look.

“Stop looking at me like that.” Hermione said.

Ron kept looking at her in exactly the same way, even waggled his eyebrows a bit as if he thought that might drive the point home.

“You look like an idiot.” She told him.

When everyone sat around the table, it was about as awkward as it usually was, with the added bonus of Parkinson glaring at Hermione every time she spoke. Tom Riddle watched her as well, but Hermione had never been able to pick apart this particular gaze so she didn’t trouble herself with trying now. Ron kept fidgeting in his chair, to the point where Hermione had to reach over and pinch his knee to remind him to sit still, and he made a very rude face every time Slughorn tried to speak to him, as if he would rather be beaten by the Whomping Willow than have to speak to anyone present.

Hermione was a bit distracted, to be honest. Every time Pansy laid a hand on Tom’s arm, or leaned over to whisper in his ear, she felt her fists curling.

Pansy and Hermione had never really got along, much in the same way her and Draco never got along. Pansy was Slytherin, pureblood, privileged, and a bitch. Ron used to joke that if Pansy wasn’t such a racist piece of shit, he thought her grade of bitchiness would go well with Hermione’s, and Hermione had responded to that with a smack on the head.

That was the only reason it grated on her so much to see her here. It had nothing to do with the fact she came with Tom Riddle.

“How long do these things usually last?” Ron asked quietly at her side, and Hermione almost jumped. She had nearly forgotten he was there.

“No much longer,” Hermione said, turning to look at him, “You look like you’re enjoying the food at least.”

“The only bearable thing about this.” Ron confirmed, but Hermione was focused on the sauce at the corner of his mouth.

“Wait,” She said, and reached out to wipe her thumb across the sauce.

“Mione—“

“Shush, I’m just—“

He reached out and grabbed her face, squeezing her cheeks until she jerked away. “How’s it feel when someone randomly grabs your face, huh?”

“You had sauce on your mouth.” Hermione pointed out, “I was being helpful.”

“I already told you to stop mothering me—“

“I’m not mothering you, and it's still there, let me—“

She picked up a napkin and dipped it into her water, reaching up to wipe his mouth as Ron made a very childish face. Hermione laughed, because he was being ridiculous. Sometimes she really felt like he hadn’t aged since he was twelve.

“There,” Hermione said, setting her napkin down. “Now stop pouting.”

“Not pouting,” Ron said, “Just didn’t want to come to this fucking thing in the first place.”

Hermione rolled her eyes, and made the mistake of looking across the table.

Tom Riddle was watching her, face blank, jaw clenched. She met his eyes on accident, and then found she couldn’t look away. She observed the tense line of his shoulders, the very slight downward turn of his lips, and she wondered what had caused his sudden change in mood. He had been perfect a moment ago, smiling and charming and at ease, and now he glowered at her in a way only he could, the type of glowering that wasn’t glowering at all unless you knew what you were looking for.

It made her heart race, it made warmth spread from her chest up to her cheeks.

She suddenly felt extremely uncomfortable, and desperately wanted to leave.

“Excuse me,” She said quietly to Ron as she stood, “I need the loo.”

Ron, already distracted by dessert, waved her goodbye without a word.

Hermione hurried out of the room and into the corridor, felt her anger and her unease buzzing beneath her skin. She just needed a moment outside of the room, away from Tom Riddle and his disconcerting gaze, away from Ron who kept looking at her like she was over-reacting, like there was something she didn’t understand, away from Pansy Parkinson who drifted between glaring and staring smugly over at her from across the table, probably with her hand on Tom’s knee.

It was her stupid crush, her ridiculous little fixation, rearing it ugly head again, and she knew it. It was her least favorite part of herself, her obsession with Tom Riddle that never seemed to die no matter how many reasons he gave her to hate him. She wasn’t an idiot, she knew what it felt like to fancy someone, she just didn’t understand why her heart was so steadfastly focused on a man who, as far as she was convinced, tortured his fellow students in empty classrooms at any given opportunity.

She took a deep breath, let it out through her nose, slowly. She tried to calm down.

She felt a hand on her arm and somehow knew who it was before she even turned around.

She jerked away, turning to face Tom Riddle head-on, and for a single moment, neither of them said a thing.

“Pansy Parkinson.” Hermione commented, unsure why that was the only thing she could think to say, “Interesting choice.”

“She wasn’t my first choice,” Tom pointed out, “But you knew that.”

Hermione grit her teeth.

“You and Weasley are quite close.” Tom said, his tone was light, but his gaze was not.

“He’s my friend.” Hermione spat, “I trust you are unfamiliar with the experience.”

Tom quirked an eyebrow, “You’ve certainly been spending a lot of time with your friend.”

“It’s none of your business who I spend my time with.” Hermione snapped.

“Try as I might,” Tom said cuttingly, his voice so sharp she nearly flinched at the sound. She hadn’t heard him speak like this in a while, “I cannot seem to shake your suspicions, Hermione, I wonder why that is?”

“Because you are a liar.” Hermione said.

His jaw twitched, and he took a step closer, but they were already close enough, so that single stride brought him far, far closer than she felt comfortable allowing him. But she didn’t move away, and she didn’t push him back. “A liar?” He echoed, and he spoke so quietly, but she could hear him so clearly in the silent corridor. She was aware, suddenly, just how alone the two of them were, and that familiar feeling of panic began to well up in her throat.

“Did you think I would just forget?” Hermione asked, and willed her voice not to shake, “Did you really think that I would forget about Malfoy just because you follow me around, and compliment me, and flirt with me, like suddenly it doesn’t matter anymore?”

Tom’s brow twitched, and while he hadn’t quite reacted in the same way he had that night, all wild-eyed with a twisted sneer, she could still tell he was angry. “Malfoy again.” He said, in that same dark tone that he had said ‘Ronald Weasley’ the other night. She gritted her teeth, watched as Tom took a single step away from her lifted his hands in a sort of helpless gesture, and said simply, “I fixed him.”

Hermione stared, and stared, and stared for a moment more. She didn’t understand why every time they spoke, she always came away more confused. But before she had the chance to ask what he meant, Tom was already continuing.

“My methods are unimportant,” His brow quirked upwards, but not in a sarcastic way or a combative way, his expression was a beseeching one, like he wanted her to understand, “He upset you, so I fixed him.”

Hermione felt her heart lurch, and then race, “The first time,” She said, “The first time I found you—“

“Was nothing.” Tom finished for her, and then a bit more severely he said, “I may be a liar, Hermione, but I have not lied to you in a long time. Ask me.” Hermione watched him warily, and he said again, “Ask me.”

“What do you want from me?” She asked, and it wasn’t really what she meant to ask. She had a hundred questions, she wanted to know exactly what he did to Malfoy, she wanted to know how many people he had hurt, she wanted to know who else he was planning on hurting and intimidating, but Merlin, the way he looked at her made her desperate to know what he was thinking, what he was hoping for.

He smiled then, just a little, like he was pleased with the question she chose but also maybe a bit in awe of her. It was the wrong thing to ask, she knew it. It was a selfish and foolish thing to ask him. But it drove him closer, he closed the distance between them, watching her closely all the while, until he stood just in front of her, with only their breath between them.

His fingers found her wrist, barely touching, just hovering featherlight over the skin. “Don’t ask questions you already know the answer to.” He chided gently.

She might’ve had a come-back or a follow-up question, but the feeling of his fingers on her arm was distracting in a humiliating way. She felt something curl in her belly, and heat seemed to expand from her stomach clear into her fingers and toes in an instance, sudden and violent and overwhelming. It wasn’t fair that she felt like that form nothing more than the barely-there brush of his fingers against her wrist, just like she felt it when his hand found her arm, or her back, or her thigh.

“Why did you follow me?” She asked him, because she needed to know, because she still didn’t understand what he wanted from her, what his plan was, and even knowing he would just lie to her face she hoped she could read between the lines, finally get a small look at what goes on in his labyrinth of a mind.

“Because if I had to watch your friend,” He spat out that word as if it was a curse, “Shove more food in his gaping maw knowing that he has somehow managed to commandeer all of your attention, then you really would have something to guard him from.”

“And what would you rather I pay attention to?” She asked, and Tom’s fingers circled to the underside of her wrist, drawing down until they met her palm, holding her hand so gently she almost wondered if she was imagining his hold. His thumb brushed across the top of her hand.

She didn’t realize it, but she had been staring squarely at his mouth as he spoke, and had been for a while. When she noticed, she raised her eyes to meet his again, but he was staring at her lips as well.

She should stop this. She should snatch her hand away, she thought, but as she had that thought his fingers glided further down, until he had threaded his fingers between hers and pressed his palm against hers. She should push him away she thought, but he was already stepping closer, his free hand raised to curl his fingers under her chin, to tip her head back. She should tell him to get away from her, she should tell him to get out of her face, to never touch her again.

But his lips already met hers.

It was so soft, so gentle, so light, and still, she felt it like a slap. She felt so hot, and all her blood seemed to rush to her legs as if ready to run, it made her lightheaded, it made her unable to think clearly, so she let him kiss her, relished in the softness of his lips against hers. It felt new, it felt innocent, and his thumb dragged up the length of her index finger as their hands remained interlocked, his other hand shifted to cup her jaw, his thumb sweeping across her cheek.

She jerked away, and she didn’t think it was fair that she could feel so breathless when he had barely touched her. She stared into his eyes, glancing wildly between them, desperately trying to regain control of her actions, but all she could feel was the tingle of her lips, his hands on her skin, and all she could think was how disconcerting it felt now, to know what it was like to be kissed by him and find her lips suddenly bereft.

His eyes were so dark, and she was sure they weren’t usually this dark, weren’t usually this black, but his pupils had swallowed up whatever color there usually was. She wished she could read him better, wished she could understand the flexing of his jaw, the pucker in his brow.

“What…” What are you playing at? She was going to say. What are you doing? What is the point of this? But she didn’t have the chance to ask, because he closed the distance between them again, but this time it wasn’t a feather-light caress, it wasn’t gentle, it wasn’t kind. His lips met hers and it was hard, it was sudden and startling and rough. She let out a sound, muffled against his lips, purely out of the surprise of the onslaught of sensations that it caused, her whole body tensed up as if preparing to take a hit. His hand slipped from hers so that he could slide it around her waist, his fingers digging into her back to pull her closer, his other hand threading into her hair. Her hands floated helplessly at her sides for a moment, she was too engrossed in the sparks that went straight to her core with every stroke of his lips against hers, and it wasn’t a constant decision to meet ever press of his lips with her own.

It wasn’t until his lips parted and she felt his tongue against hers that her hands finally sprung to life, she clutched at his arms, felt the tense and release of his biceps as he wrapped his arm fully around her waist, and she couldn’t understand how every stroke of his lips sent such a violent spark of heat straight to her core, she couldn’t remember where they were, or what they had been doing, or why it had taken so long to explore this feeling.

His hands were constantly moving, like he needed to touch every part of her. They went from her hair, to her throat, her shoulders and her sides and her back until they firmly grasped her waist and pressed her firmly against the wall of the corridor. Every stroke of his hands she could feel straight to the marrow, every sensation echoing in her core. His teeth caught her lower lip, scraped against the sensitive skin and then soothed it with his tongue, his fingers kept a bruising grip on her waist. It was nothing like the first kiss, gentle and soft and controlled, and she got the feeling he might feel just as out of control as she did, judging by the way his fingers dug warningly into her waist when she tried to arch her back.

It was too much. It was too much and she thought of Malfoy, and Ron, and all the other nameless unknown faces that saw the wrong side of this mysterious boy.

She pushed Tom away, and she was struck by the look in his eyes, a bit crazed, a bit wild. His brow was twisted in confusion, maybe a bit of anger, his lips were parted and swollen and wet and the only other time she had seen him with an expression so clear and unguarded was when he was angry. But this was different.

His hands were still on her, so she pushed him away again, further this time. She was well aware of how breathless she was, gasping for air like a fool, and suddenly his face was shuttered again, his brow uncreased, his mouth a straight, stern line.

“Hermione,” He started, and Merlin it sounded like a warning, like a threat, and she shoved him once more just to shut him up, just so she didn’t have to hear him speak so quiet and low and heated.

She tried to leave, and he reached for her, wrapped his fingers around her wrist, but she jerked away. She glared at him as viciously as she could manage, and then she turned and fled, fled like a coward because she couldn’t trust herself to say anything, knew she would sound like a breathless fool if she tried.

She didn’t even stop at Slughorn’s party to collect Ron. She fled all the way to the Gryffindor tower and didn’t look back.

—

“And then she fucking ditched me to go make out with Tom Riddle in the corridor—“

“Ronald!” Hermione snapped as Lavender started screeching with delight, “I did not—“

“Don’t lie,” Ron thrust a finger in her face that she immediately slapped away, “I saw him when he came back, I know what it looks like when someone gets back from a good snog.”

“Can’t hide it anymore!” Lavender said in a sing-song voice, kicking her feet excitedly on the sofa in the Gryffindor common room.

“It is just like Hermione to snag the hottest boy in school and then run away.” Parvati grumbled.

“Remember Viktor?” Padma said.

Parvati sighed wistfully, “Do I ever.”

“I didn’t run away—“ Hermione tried to argue.

“Can’t believe you chose to hide in Gryffindor tower instead of getting dicked down by Tom Riddle.” Padma said.

“Tom Riddle,” Parvati repeated, and shook her head as if she was disappointed.

“So,” Harry finally interjected from where he was sat beside Ron, staring between them all, “Tom and Hermione are definitely dating now, right?”

Ginny finally exploded into the laughter she had been holding in throughout the whole conversation.

[thoughtfulnerdcycle]

all the even numbers (for the send in numbers to get an answer thingy) >:D

gonna be a long one :D

2: Age

19, born in 2001 lol

4: 3 things I love

music

my friends

animals

6: 4 turns off

(these are just a preference and only count for people i could be romantically attracted to u can have these things and we can still be friends)

dirty finger nails/uncared nails/hands

dreadlocks

crooked teeth

just personal preference not attacking anyone <3

8: Sexual orientation

lesbian

10: How tall am I

im around 5“3 or 161cm

12: What time were I born

around 8.30pm!

14: Do I have a crush

kinda recovering from a crush rn

16: Favorite place

my house if i’m alone and outside if i’m not alone

18: Do I use sarcasm

i think i try to but probably fail miserably

20: First thing I notice in new person

hands

eyes

lips

22: Eye color

brown :(

24: Favorite style of clothing

(korean) streetwear, or dark academia no in between

26: there’s no 26 lmao :D

🪨

28: Favorite movie

i love shrek lol and basketball diaries, very basic but i also like pulp fiction

30: Favorite band

queen, bon jovi, pink floyd, arctic monkeys, one ok rock, oisicle melonpan

32: Someone I love

my newest friend - she’s a lovely person and i alr feel like i’ve known her for years <3

34: My relationship with my parents

sometimes it’s pretty good but there’s no trust

36: Tattoos and piercing i have

i want tattoos don’t have any yet

i have s helix on my left ear and two ear lobes, two on my right ear and i used to have a nose piercing on the right side

38: The reason I joined Tumblr

i was 13 and not like other girls

40: Do I ever get “good morning” or “good night ” texts?

not really :( i want one

42: When did I last hold hands?

i don’t remember

44: Have I shaved your legs in the past three days?

nope

46: If I were drunk & can’t stand, who’s taking care of me?

not my friends bc they’re drunk too

48: Do I live with my Mom and Dad?

my mom and my stepfather, idk where my father is

50: Do I have someone of the opposite sex I can tell everything to?

my best friend - i love him so much and he always listens

52: When was the last time I hugged someone?

unless a quick hug counts idk if it counts then on thursday

54: Is there anyone I trust even though I should not?

i trusted my ex best friend even tho i knew i shouldn’t

56: If I could meet anyone on this earth, who would it be?

this is such a hard question tbh i can’t decide id love to meet all the famous people who died like Freddie Mercury or Kurt Cobain maybe Marilyn Monroe or just my soulmate lol

58: What’s my strangest talent?

i can tie a knot with my tongue?

60: Do I prefer to be behind the camera or in front of it?

i wish i was confident enough to be in front of it but i’m good behind lol

62: Do I prefer talking on the phone or video chatting online?

i usually hate talking loudly at home as i’m scared my parents could hear so neither texting is best

64: Do I believe in magic?

dunno

66: What’s the weather like right now?

warm with a harsh find

68: Do I like the smell of gasoline?

yes

70: What was the worst injury I’ve ever had?

does my chronic illness count lol

72: Can I touch my nose with a tongue?

no

74: Favorite animal?

cats for pets and ducks for non domestic animals

76: What do I think is Satan’s last name is?

cool people don’t use last names like zendaya

78: How can you win my heart?

give me attention and be as passionate as me (or just try) for my hyperfixations lol

80: What is my favorite word?

i love handlettering the word moist, girls, history and love

82: If the whole world were listening to me right now, what would I say?

love is love

black lives matter

stop racism against asian people

stop the hate

but would probably be to nervous to talk ingrown of ppl i almost lost consciousness when i had to present smth in class

84: I accidentally eat some radioactive vegetables. They were good, and what’s even cooler is that they endow me with the super-power of my choice! What is that power?

teleportation would’ve neat

86: What is my current desktop picture?

leafs lol

88: Bought condoms?

for a friend that had a hook up later that das but didn’t have enough time to get them lol

90: Failed a class?

yes but on purpose

92: Kissed a girl?

yes

94: Had a job?

kinda?

96: Bullied someone on the internet?

i don’t remember actively bullying anyone bc i always was against that but you never know if your words were perceived the way u wanted

98: Played on a sports team?

no

100: Did drugs?

only weed

102: Drank alcohol?

yes

104: Been overweight?

yes

106: Been to a wedding?

yes

108: Watched TV for 5 hours straight?

does netflix count if yes then yes

110: Gotten my heart broken?

yes lol

112: Broken a bone?

no

114: Been to prom?

no

116: Fly by helicopter?

no

118: Had a crush on someone of the same sex?

yes

120: Wore make up?

pretty much everyday

122: Had oral sex?

no

124: Voted in a presidential election?

no

126: Had a surgery?

had 1 wisdom tooth removed haha

128: Stalked someone on a social network?

yes

130: Been fishing?

no

132: Been rejected by a crush?

yes :(

134: What do I want for birthday?

i’ve been saving up for an ipad past few months and i got almost half so maybe the other half of the money or smth idk i don’t do birthdays :D

[coinofstone]

4x03 The Wicked Day

We're only three minutes into this episode and Arthur's giving Merlin a universally recognized chin-tip of recognition while he is willingly being tied to an upright spinning wooden board, with his arms secured above his head and his legs slightly spread. Yea, there's absolutely no reason for that to make anyone think of Arthur being fastened to a St Andrew's cross, none at all.

Also what is with this show having other ppl shove food in Arthur's mouth

All the knights are clapping and laughing but Percival's looking at the spinning wooden rig like he's having some Thoughts™️

Merlin escorting a drunk Arthur back to his room, where Arthur proceeds to begin undressing himself, is a scene played for comedy - 'haha Arthur's drunk and walking around with his pants down' - but literally all I see is domesticity.

I love drunk!Arthur but I also like Uther with the long hair.

I really like the fight scene with Uther and the baddie, not just bcuz Tony looks good - but because it is giving Uther a bit more agency back. They've never been clear on what his deal is. Gaius has a line in the first episode that makes it sound like depression. Arthur has a line that makes it sound like Alzheimers. Uther's on-screen behavior could go either way, or could be a little of both. I don't really think it's supposed to be definitive. The swordfight, I think, is entirely keeping with both theories. He was asleep when Arthur entered the room, he would've been exhausted after the exertion of attending a feast with such lively entertainment (considering he spends his days staring out a window, that's a big effort for him). The fighting would've woken him up, and even if he were experiencing sundowning, his sword skills would've been ingrained in him since youth, muscle memory like. And there's always the whole, 'super parent' thing, the surge of adrenaline from seeing your kid in danger leading to extraordinary feats. Regardless, it's an improvement over the despondency in the last few episodes where his character was mostly reduced to scenery.

I love Merlin but he's a fucking idiot.

Fair warning, this is probably going to be an unpopular opinion. Merlin is being a self serving manipulative little shit by encouraging Arthur to use magic to heal Uther, presenting himself as a sorcerer to do so, and then claiming his 'price' for healing Uther is, essentially, freedom and equality for all magic users. First of all, as a FRIEND, Merlin should be aware of Arthur's state of mind. Arthur's lived his entire life wondering about his mother who died giving birth to him. Merlin knows how big of a thing it is for him, if it weren't he wouldn't have nearly killed Uther in S2 when he discovered her life was the price for his. NOW, he's just watched his father get stabbed in the heart while saving Arthur's life, on his birthday.

I don't care how much you dislike Arthur, you cannot deny the trauma here. There's no way Arthur doesn't live with a degree of melancholy surrounding his birthday, knowing that it's also the anniversary of his mother's death; and you can't tell me that hasn't been amplified exponentially since he learned the truth from Morgause and confronted his father. Whether he believed Merlin's last minute save that Morgause had been lying and that she conjured an illusion to fool Arthur, is immaterial. You can't un-ring a bell. In his heart he'll always question, he'll always carry the weight of knowing that there's a chance his own life came at the cost of his mother's. And there is no way this doesn't come bubbling up at his birthday every year. They even attempted to show him being 'grumpy' at the start of the episode, Merlin is enthralled by the entertainment that's shown up for his celebration, Arthur would really rather not deal with it. It's not because he's not easily entertained, it's because his birthday isn't something he particularly feels like celebrating. Add to that, now, in the evening after his birthday feast, he's incapacitated by a sedative in his drink and he gets attacked by an assassin. His father saves his life and gets stabbed in the process, a mortal wound. Arthur shouldn't have even been in Uther's chambers! If he hadn't been, Uther wouldn't have been near the fight - he wasn't the target, Arthur was. This is a huge trauma for Arthur, his father paying the price for Arthur's life with his own on the anniversary of his mother unwittingly doing the same thing! Major, massive trauma! Psychological disaster! Merlin, as Arthur's friend, should know that.

I'm not saying Merlin was wrong to go all dragoon again - wanting to conceal his identity so he doesn't reveal his magic is understandable. Merlin's willingness to use magic to save Uther is also ... expected, if not entirely understandable. He's saved Uther many times, this time is only special in Uther wasn't attacked by magic and Arthur asked him directly for assistance with getting someone to use magic to help him. That's a big first.

My problem is with Merlin trying to demand a price from Arthur at all. Even as dragoon. Obviously, I want equality for magical ppl in Camelot. Obviously, I understand Merlin wanting the same. But it does not make sense for Merlin to look at his friend, who is in pain, who is desperate, who is acting unlike himself, and say 'this is exactly the right time to make him promise me to end the war on magic.' He could've said, 'I will do this, but remember this when you are king. Remember when you saw magic used for good.' and that would've been fine. But the fact that he extracted a price from Arthur, in exchange for helping Uther, the fact that he made it a transactional agreement: that's Merlin taking advantage of Arthur in his weakest moment, full stop. And that's entirely out of character for Merlin. It very much comes across as like, 'I've got him right where I want him' which is THE most antithetical thing POSSIBLE to Merlin & Arthur's relationship.

And yes, for all my ranting I do understand that this was part of a plot point to pit Arthur further against magic, to cement his belief in his father's hardline stance against it, to prevent the show from having to prematurely address the issue because Merlin no longer has a reason to hide. It was intended to keep the conflict going, so that they could continue the series with that narrative, and I understand that. Buuuut the same exact end could've been achieved without Merlin eliciting a promise from Arthur when he's clearly under duress.

And speaking of things that don't make sense, why would Gaius hide the enchanted necklace he found on Uther from Arthur? Surely he would want Arthur to know that his attempt had been deliberately thwarted?

Commentary by Alice and Colin

Bit confused by Alice's comments about Uther. She says she didn't think it was a mental illness, but more like he's 'worn out'. She also says Tony had nailed it and that they'd both had experience dealing with older relatives. I don't really understand what she's trying to say at all. Anyway, she wanted him to have an excellent sword fight scene and I think she's succeeded in that.

It's Colin's first time seeing the episode cut so they aren't doing a whole lot of talking unlike 4x01 where Alice and Katie just talked throughout the entire thing.

Alice says there's a drinking game on the internet - drink every time someone gets blasted back by magic. Colin legit said

The end bit where Arthur and Merlin are talking in Arthur's chambers, Colin says it's like what Merlin thought might've been his best chance has become his worst nightmare.

Alice is so proud of the shot of Arthur coming out of the room where Uther's body is laid out with the rising sun in the background streaming through the window, giving him Apollo vibes.

That final moment of Arthur being crowned king. Colin was clearly genuinely impressed with it and told Alice so, she said she was really very lucky to be given that scene to do.

[ziracona]

How many people were tested just for others anyway? Gordon's wife and daughter, Daniel (the wiki says it was also for shoplifting but he was 16 so I call bs), literally everyone except Lynn and her husband in Saw III, and my memory past 3 is fuzzy but that one lying author's wife comes straight to mind. They weren't being tested for whatever John pretended his survival of the fittest policy was they were terrorized tortured and/or killed for basically nothing but the pain of the target.

Anon you’re so valid TuT 

ITS TRUE AND WE SHOULD ALL SAY IT!!! Also, I wrote this little part last, bc I just wanted to give fair warning that I went blind into a rage and wrote threethousand words about how much I hate John Kramer, full of very terrible language and spoilers for Saw 1-6, because I go that fucking feral at the sound of his name, and I can’t make everyone scroll past that so I’m putting most of it under the cut, but even if you decide you justifiably fear that rant and don’t read it, just know you are incredibly valid, and John can eat shit and die. Rant start:

John did that bullshit constantly! He would over and over put 1 (one) man he personally wanted to watch suffer on trial and sacrifice /scores/ of people for no reason. No trap, no way to escape, at someone else’s mercy completely or maybe with 0 chance even there bc JOHN KRAMER IS A SACK OF SHIT. 

He kills a house full of drug addicts in two, mostly just bc his wife worked w drug addicts and John hates drug addicts, and even though Amanda was in their literal exact same position she does jack shit to stop him and just watches people slowly have their organs deteriorate and start coughing up blood around her!! Including fucking Daniel! Who got an antidote but like, at the 11th hour. Do y’all even understand how biology works John and CO??? If you neutralize a poison after it has deteriorated parts of organs it might save your life but itS NOT A FUCKING HEALTH POTION. Poor Daniel Matthews probably will only live to be like forty tops if he’s super lucky because of that. And he did NOTHING!!! He had shoplifted bc he was going through a teen phase but he’s like sixteen! Everyone was dumb as shit as a teenager, and most people shoplift at some point in their life! It does not earn you slow deterioration of your organs! Poor kid not only watched a man burned to death in an oven, dude have his brains blown out, girl die of prolonged organ failure, and more shit, he himself /killed/ a man as a sixteen year old child to save Amanda Young because he’s got a good heart and is a good person, and that shit is awful! It’s traumatic to kill someone at any age, but as a teenager? And then he got knocked out by her and thrown in a tiny locked safe, tied up and gagged, and kept alive by an oxygen tank in an enclosed space after that massive trauma for or AT LEAST 24 HOURS ! He did NOTHING. It was all just a long-con sacrifice to get Eric Matthews to a specific location. Eric did some real shit, but god, even after everything Daniel did for Amanda and all John’s talk of innocents, neither of them ever even tell Eric he lived! Amanda just locks him up, fights, beats him to she thinks death, and then John keeps him locked up and isolated in a cell for months, only to make him choke himself slowly in a test he doesn’t actually get to participate in to keep a friend from being electrocuted. It’s all kinds of fucked.

Even Jeff did nothing worse than be depressed and obsessive and unavailable to his kid, all Lynn did was have a boyfriend after she and he separated (and tbh the only reason John took her was bc he wanted a doctor and hated her for being one of the docs who told him he had cancer bc John is a pettyass hypocritical stupid sack of shit!) I’m VIBRATING with hatred. Lynn was just a pawn in Amanda’s test! It never mattered if she kept John alive! It only mattered if Amanda decided to fucking shoot her!!! She did her task and died and JOHN KNEW THERE WAS A HIGH PROBABILITY AMANDA WOULD KILL HER AND DID NOTHING TO STOP IT BC JOHN CARES ABOUT NO ONE BUT HIMSELF THE FUCKING WORTHLESS LITTLE WORM. 

And the other victims in 3 are a poor college student who ran over someone on accident and feels massive guilt already and served jail time for it who gets his fucking limbs and then head all twisted off while begging for his life because JOHN KRAMER IS A PIECE OF SHIT AND SO IS JEFF TBH. BUT NOT AS BIG OF ONE. The poor girl who is stung up naked in a freezer and sprayed repeatedly with water till she is encased in ice and dead literally just saw the hit and run and ran away bc she was scared!!! Not to mention Jeff’s other kid who gets kidnapped and locked up as collateral! Even if she’s not hurt that’s FUCKING TRAUMATIZING FOR A YOUNG CHILD. And Allison Kerry did nothing wrong! Amanda kills her in the Angel trap literally just bc she’s investigating them! When he targets a detective John’s always like “Ho ho he, I am putting you on trial bc you are obsessed with your work”  LIKE, BITCH NO SHE FUCKIN AINT SHE DOIN HER GODDAMN JOB AND U DON”T WANT TO GET CAUGHT YOU STUPID FUCKING WHORE I FUCKING HATE YOU SO MUCH THAT JUST LOOKING AT YOUR FACE CAUSES ME TO PRODUCE SO MUCH EXCESS EPINEPHRINE I COULD BOTTLE IT AND SAVE IT FOR LATER. I swear to god, if I had a grenade and I was in the room trapped with a still breathing John Kramer, I would kill pull the pin and take us both! FUCK I would pull the pin and then french kiss the grenade as thanks for letting me see that sack of shit go right to hell!

I don’t remember all of four bc it was really terrible, so I don’t have a lot of thoughts there except woof, but there was a lot of bullshit. Like John’s lawyer who did nothing but try to talk to him about finances enough it pissed John off got kidnapped, won his first game, and then got kidnapped again BC THAT SHIT HEAD SURE NEVER KEEPS EVEN HIS OWN GODDAMNED WORD and was made pawn in the game and then shot bc he didn’t have a chance to save himsefl!!! 

In Saw one, also, again, Adam was never being tested. He was just a pawn too. It was Gordon who got to decide to kill him or not, and ADAM LIVED TO SIX OR WHENEVER THE FUCK THE TIME WAS AND JOHN STILL LEFT HIM TO DIE BECAUSE HE”S A HYPOCRITICAL PIECE OF SHIT!!!! And he’s not interesting enough for Johns MASSIVE brainshlong that obviously is so full of right ideas and enlightenment you MICROPENISEDtrulyIDIOTIC self-centered human garbage!  He only took Adam at all bc he was there! He said the reason was Adam was pathetic! ADAM WAS DOING HIS BEST YOU CRUSTY ASS RED ROBED TURTLE LOOKIN MOTHERFUCKER. He was a freelance photographer in New Jersey in his early 20s during an economic collapse, and still nice enough to be taking care of stray cats you FUCKING sack of dogshit! 

And Gordon? All he did was tell John he had cancer! He was cheating on his wife too, but like, the reason John picked him was that!!! HE THOUGHT!! GORDON SOUNDED TOO COLD WHEN HE TOLD HIM HE HAD CANCER I FUCKING HATE JOHN KRAMER SO MUCH. John Kramer really will see someone smile not as big a smile as he thought they should have given him and be like: “Yo, is anyone going to corkscrew their eyeballs off?” and not even wait for an answer. I fuuuuukning hate him. And that little shitface thought it was somehow chill to order someone else to kill Gordon’s wife and eight year old child who had done JACK SHIT wrong ever if Gordon wasn’t willing to brutally murder a kid in his early 20s who had done nothing wrong????! WHAT THE FUCK. Mr. KRamer.. QUICK QUESTION. WHAT. THE. FUCK. You self-righteous, self-centered, pretentious, pettyass, sadistic motherfucking goddamn worthless excuse for anything!

In five he’s finally dead so I can : ) once. BUT HE STILL FUCKS UP SHIT FROM BEYOND THE GRAVE. SO I’m STILL MAD. All the people Hoffman kills are ppl John told him to, so HE STILL MOTHERFUKIN RESPONSIBLE. In 5 it’s a bunch of people responsible kind of for deaths of people in a low-income neighborhood. One guy was paid to torch an abandoned building, and eight people died in the fire, but he didn’t know anyone was there and feels terrible. He thought it was vacant, it was just arson. Another is a journalist who found out about the arson, and didn’t break the story bc guy 1’s father bribed him. There’s a fire inspector who learned the truth and was bribed by the guy’s dad not to tell too. A city planner who was bribed into selling permits for the land. And Brit, who was the girl who paid for the arson, bc she wanted to make an apartment complex, and maybe actually knew about the 8 people and might have deserved some real payback–it’s unclear???? Regardless. I want to add that the cops had been investigating, had a strong case, and were about to arrest them and hold these people accountable in a legal manner, which John knew bc HOFFMAN WAS IN HIS POCKET, and John so hated the idea of them facing justice justice, he kidnapped them. The fire inspector got dragged into saw blades by her throat and torn apart, the journalist died to a nail bomb, and the city planner got electrocuted in a bathtub. The two who made it had their arms split down the middle up to the elbow to let enough blood out to save them.  I cannot. Just.

Anyway. In six, again at DEAD JOHN WHO WON”T QUIT FUCKING EVERYTHING UP’s request, a ‘game’ is played and William Easton (one of my fave protagonists bc he’s a piece of shit but damn if he didn’t have a real glow up in forty-five minutes) is thrown into a hell circuit. 

And so, undeservingly, is like, EVERYONE he fucking knows! His janitor Hank is first up. Target for…what was it? OHhhhhh right. He smokes. That was why. That makes so much sense john I’m sorry I doubted you PSYCH I CAN"T EVEN SAY IT AS A JOKE I JUST THREW UP A LITTLE IN MY MOUTH JOHN QUICK Q? WHAT THE FUCK? oh wait it’s because your an ABSOLUTE BASTARD. You would think I would get desensitized but no. It just. It’s fuel on the flame of my rage.

William Easton and the janitor, Hank, are hooked into something that slowly tightens and crushes their ribs any time they take a breath, and whoever doesn’t die first gets to live, and poor goddamn Hank smoked so ofc he can’t outlast a healthy dude in his 30s and John crushes his ribs just to make William watch someone die. Then he makes William pick which of two people to save in trial 2. MEANING HE GODDAMN STRAIGHT UP KIDNAPPED THESE TWO TOTALLY FINE WITH EITHER DYING, IN FACT WITH THE SOUL PURPOSE BEING TO DIE bc who cares about them right John? You fucking pretentious self-righteous creep! I have a year of the Pig teddy bear I named after Peter Strahm JUST for the FUCKING satisfaction of knowing John would hate that bc he was so into year of the motherfucking pig. ANyway. Plot again. Poor file clerk at Williams firm and the poor secretary are the two targets, and literally they did jack shit!!! They work for shitty lawyers but all they do is clock in to a 9-5 and file shit!! They are literally just there to rub it in William’s face that insurance policies aren’t fair bc according to them, one of the humans is worth more than the other bc health and age, but uuuuh oohhh William the older one with health issues is p hard to kill face to face bc you know her and she has kids and the young healthy man in his early 20s family is dead and he doesn’t have friends which means according to John he is worth less bc JOHN DOES THINK YOU CAN CHOOSE BETWEEN LIVES and all of this is here just bc John somehow thought it would be fun to fucking WIN A GODDAMN “I’M RIGHT” ARGUMENT WITH A LAWYER at the expense of brutally hanging a human being with barbed wire!!! 

Sidebar–if John Kramer was a real human being, I would go yearly on a fucking pilgrimage to his grave just to SPIT on his stupid corpse. I HATE HIM SO MUCH. 

K so young man dies. Then test 3 his attorney dies too, I don’t know much about her, except she is just there to make William feel like shit and they were into each other, and she tries to kill William after he gets hurt trying to save her bc he has the key to her trap in his stomach or chest idr, but she doesn’t get the key in time and dies, and then test 4 he finds his associates strapped to a carousel with a shotgun that picks one at random and blows off their head, and has to let all but two of them get gunned down and choose which two not to kill. And again, they’re kind of shittyass lawyers, but uh. Yeah. To save two, he has to let this huge piece of metal rip through his hand, but William does it and destroys his hand to save the two he can, and suffers picking while they all beg him to pick them bc John wanted to see him suffer picking between human lives again because he’s a goddam self-centered stuck up jerk who vales human life less then admiring his ugly ass dick in the mirror every day and pretending he’s a member of Mensa, the evil utterly irredeemable sack of shit. Anyway, at the end, William has never had a chance to live or die at all! And John was literally just torturing him for fun and killed /all/ those people not even for a test for William but /solely/ to make him suffer bc human lives DON"T MATTER ONE FUCKING IOTA to JOHN SHITASS KRAMER. WHO JUST WANTED TO WIN. AN INTELLECTUAL ARGUMENT. POST-MORTEM. BECAUSE he’s THAT kind of shittyass, pretentious, sanctimonious, better than thou, always right, incapable of wrong, smartest fucking asshole in the room man!!! I bet he doesn’t ever wash his hands when he takes a piss! I KNOW IT! FUCK John Kramer! 

ANd OH! William gets killed by a kid who hates him bc he turned down their father’s insurance policy fraudulently, knowing he would die of an illness without the money. BC William was terrible. Which is /so/ great for that fucking teenager! Killing someone horribly with acid while you watch them die and their body be melted! And they beg you not to do it and apologize on the other side of bars, already beat to shit, and plead for forgiveness, and your mom begs you not to, and the dude’s sister sobs and begs you not to!!! SO GOOD! Way to go john you FUCKING CUNT, they definitely value their lives now you goddamn motherfucking souless sack of shit!

I-I don’t even have the energy to do the other Saw movies or go back over the other victims in Saw one WHO DID NOTHING WRONG. John just hated them!!! BC HIS WIFE KNEW THEM! In most cases! John just fucking hates drug addicts! OK u know what here’s the short version even if I can’t do them justice rn bc I’m pissed!!! One guy got sliced to death on razor wire for cutting when he was depressed bc John is a piece of shit, one got burned to death after walking on glass for hours bc John doesn’t believe in invisible illnesses and if you’re walking you must be healthy, oh yeah! And the fucking dude Amanda killed in her first trial was just a drug addict! Going to a recovery clinic! He never had a chance to live on his own bc the only choice was if Amanda would cut open his intestines and sift through him for a key while he was awake but too drugged to move or not, and she did! Didn’t even get to plead for his life! ANyway!!!! Fucking as far as I can tell all Zep did was work at the goddamn hospital! He WENT OUT OF HIS WAY TO BE NICE TO JOHN and told other people he was a cool dude!!! He was just a janitor!!! WHAT THE FUCK???

I just. God. I hate everything about John Kramer. The way he talks makes me so LIVID I change color like a goddamned chameleon. He is so ready to argue his stupid shitty fucking ethics with anyone who breathes in a ten mile radius. Shithead John over here will strap you to a table and make you listen to him talk about how it’s not his fault he poisoned two people and gave them one antidote and a bunch of knives and one of them came out dead, and his hands are clean and people don’t value their lives so they should die while he watches eating fucking cereal I am just–I am so glad John has cancer? Like, the idea of Saw sans John having cancer is unbearable, because I am so afraid the writers would never let him die and we would never be free of the human cancer that is John. The only human being on the planet that has ever been able to make me root for the cancer. But boy in that one and only regard, John is special.

I hate him so much it is unbelievable. Like. I can’t even put it into words. THe pure, unbridled fury I feel when I hear John say, “D’oh ho ho, but I, with these two little handies of mine, hath never pulled the gun’s trigger! Got you there! Where is your science! Where is your god! I am no murderer! I heal people! By sawing off their faces! You just do not understand, oh poor unenlightened human that you are. May you be strapped to a machete car and blessed with my wisdom  😔” I absolutely lose control of 90% of normal human functionality, and all that I have left is righteous justice and bloodlust. It’s unbelievable.

Whichever one of you god-mode-brain peeps made that post saying Eric Matthews had the hardest test in the whole Saw franchise because he had to sit and listen to John Kramer talk for two hours was a GODDAMNED HERO and if you contact me and prove the tumblr account is yours I will paypal you ten dollars and a personalized note thanking you for the joy that gave me because I just really hate John Kramer that FUCKING MUCH. I would cut off my own toes to be able to have something to shove down John Kramer’s throat to make him stop. talking.

There are a lot of things in this world I hate bc I hate things that are unjust, but I hate absolutely nothing more in the universe than a villain who is a self-righteous, hypocritical asshole who won’t even admit that what they are doing is wrong and parades as the tragic genius hero despite knowing GODDAMN well that they are a petty, shitty, hypocritical, absolute fucking MONSTER with no redeemable qualities or capacity for love. And John Kramer is at least my second least favorite character in the history of ANYTHING. Maybe my first. I’m not even sure anymore! Nasty-ass, evil, pretentious, self-righteous, shortsighted, selfish, sadistic, voyeuristic, willfully ignorant, crusty ass useless soulless garbage little SHIT.

[szopenhauer]

Are you more positive or a debbie downer? Debbie Downer should be my name lol

What would you love to drink right now? I’m drinking water rn, second mug in a row, my belly is going to explode

Is that an alcoholic drink or not? it’s not this kind of water :P

Oh good. What would you love to eat right now? I’m not hungry...

How many meals do you eat a day? depends

Do you brush your tongue with your tooth brush? sometimes

What are you favorite type of jeans? I’d say skinny even tho I don’t wear jeans anymore ^^”

Do you eat your nails? wait what swallow? ewww I don’t even bite them :o 

Do you enjoy making or taking surveys? taking them more 

Name something that is blue that you like Sadness from Inside out

Name something pink that you like PYNK music video by Janelle Monae? XD

If you could have one more pet, what? meh

If you could sleep next to a tame wild animal what? woah 

Would you rather have an owl or a snake? both are cool

What would you name it? Bowl for owl and for snake either Ksysio or Wonsz żmieja?

Do you eat the ice in your drink? no

Have you ever been addicted to cigarettes? I had one cigarette in my whole life but I still keep a package in my room :x

Which do you use more? Facebook or Instagram? fb, I don’t care for insta 

Do you watch beauty videos on You Tube? nah

Do you like Star Wars? love

What kind of surveys do you like the most? interesting, not just YES or NO questions, I want to go deeper 

Have you ever dropped something down the garbage disposal on accident? omg luckily not 

What CD would you never buy for yourself? anything Justin Bieber for sure

Is sex a must in your life? absolutely not

Would you rather be cute and ugly or hot and stupid? cute and ugly? lmfao ok 

Are you evil in any way? everyone is, more or less

Would you rather be a clown or a garbage man? can’t decide :D

Would you rather be a rockstar or a librarian? librarian but rock star ain’t that bad of a choice ;)

WHAT IS THE MEANING OF LIFE? again? I just got this question on ask today and that really made me anxious

Did you and your mum ever have a big fight that caused you to move out? sigh... Has the last person you kissed ever been to your house? yep but not to my room as I’m super ashamed of it, it’s not what I really want, it’s more like a storage room for mine and my mom’s things, I wish I could move and out and do what I want instead of cleaning this mess just to have it ruined days after, not that I have money now to fix things the way I imagine my bedroom to be someday :( Have you had a good day today or was yesterday better? yesterday was better but today I got a T-shirt so that was a good moment Do you have any plans for the upcoming weekend? hospital

Could you date someone very attractive, but who thought they were better than everyone else? blergh, r u kidding me?... Do you always feel like you’re making mistakes? constantly Does anybody have a tattoo with your name on it? not because of me but someone somewhere definitely has that name on them for another reason How would you feel if you got the person you liked? I'm in a relationship Is there anyone who likes you? it seems If the last person you kissed saw you kissing someone else, would they be mad? of course  What’s the first thing you heard this morning? you mean a sound (doorbell) or words (I don’t remember)? If you fell pregnant to the last person you kissed, what would you think? not possible Are you young or old? young, at least according to my ID and being childish Are there always other fish in the sea? there are but maybe I don’t want them and/or they don’t want to be catched etc. What can your tongue do? pfft Do chickens have feelings? sorta Do you think the body is the most beautiful thing that was ever made? ...  So how are you feeling today? not good enough Where is your sister right now? don’t know nor care What do you smell like? it’s so hot, I smell like sweat and I can’t stand it but I can’t shower all day long What colour is your mum’s hair? grey  When was the last time you talked to one of your siblings? last week Do you like fire? as an element of magic in fantasy movies  Does your mum vacuum early in the morning while you’re asleep? she’s noisy in different ways Does wearing glasses really make people look smart? that’s a lame stereotype Do your band-aids have cartoons on them? they’re useless but one time I bought Moomin ones because I’ve been walking through the store and they fallen right under my feet and there was nobody around nor the shelf/aisle that they could come from so it was weird and I love Moomins so I took them home (I paid) and they’re probably stored somewhere  Have you ever kissed someone you shouldn’t have? what do you mean? Who’s the funniest drunk person you know? my gf apparently - in a cute way - that’s surprising for a teetotalist like me  What was the first thing you thought of when you woke up this morning? my tee came! When was the last time you saw your father? he just left for work and I was waving to him through the window which is our tradition  What if your partner went through your cellphone? I have nothing to hide Has anyone ever been with you while you were throwing up? my parents and sister

Robert Downey Jr. — Bet you have a crush on him. he’s handsome but I’d prefer to be him instead of having a crush on sex I’m not attracted to

What would you do if you were to get stuck on a ski lift overnight? ... freeze? and pee myself Have you ever received an anonymous gift? one time when we were really poor that we couldn’t afford food someone left a package under our door, knocked and ran, bless this person whoever knew we have hard times :* What kind of laugh do you have? many kinds that happen randomly Will you have a Valentine next year? I have a bigger chance than any other year before  Macaroon or a cupcake? cupcake Did you kiss or hug anyone today? hug my mom and my dad too Are you currently waiting on someone to do something for you/to you? kinda Do you know anyone, personally, who is in an abusive relationship? Are you? I’m not in an abusive relationship but I know those who are as it’s common and it’s really sad that ppl think only beating makes relationship toxic Are you planning on going anywhere with someone, some time today? I’ll stay home  Do you find your school to be loaded with hot guys or not so much? I remember E.W. once said that we have a lot of elves around because LOTR movie had very ugly ones as we did in high school, I tried to find that pic someone posted back in the day but I failed, it was from the council from what I remember 

Is there anyone you are currently trying to get out of trouble? Why? mostly I just keep my eye on my father and my mother all the time because of covid (and not only because of it) if that counts Are you plotting anything at the moment? another chapter of the book? Have you ever wanted your significant other to get rid of a friend? because they were evil to them, it wasn’t about ME If you have siblings, have they moved out or do they still live with you? she moved out :3

Do you have a therapist? no longer Have you ever gotten a good grade in math class? yeah, in middle school I was getting awesome grades in math class What do you think of the last person you texted? we’re dating Have you ever gotten a bloody nose from snorting cocaine? I’ve never done cocaine wtf

Do you post pictures were you look good but your friends look bad? I ask them first  Are you friends with any of your exes? me and one of my exes are together Are you a whiskey person? I’m a no alcohol person

Has anyone ever made fun of your taste in music? tiny bit, wasn’t that bad

Have you ever overflown a bathtub? I have not Have you ever thrown food at a stranger in a movie theater? not in a movie theater Are you somewhat of a perfectionist? somewhat Do you like sour candy? by Lady Gaga  not eat Do you usually wear sunglasses when you’re driving? but I don’t drive Is there ever a time that you enjoy cold showers? brrrr no way Are you good at painting nails? am not but it doesn’t matter Are you good at filling silence in awkward situations? doubt it What word should you really probably remove from your vocabulary? kurwa Do you rip out the page if you make a mistake writing, or cross it out? cross it out, if I ripped the page then there would be nothing left  Do you use a full length mirror daily? we don’t own one Can you walk in heels, or do you feel awkward in them? I think they don’t match my style and they’re uncomfy in a long term Mac or PC? PC Will you tell someone if there’s something in their teeth? sorry but probably not Do you ever actually make your bed? when I have guests Do you make an effort to eat healthy? yup The last time you kissed someone, what color of shirt were they wearing? black, that’s easy What’s something you want to purchase next time you’re at the mall? food If you had to choose between a million dollars or to be able to change a regret? money because one regret won’t help me and even might make things worse Are you taller than your mom? almost 10 cm What would you do if your best friend told you they were moving today? my gf - break up  my dad - try to stop him or move out with him You’re locked in a room with the person you last kissed, problems? no problems  Do you have any ‘naughty’ photos on your phone? 0 Could you handle living with a male roommate? my dad, no one else What were you doing at 10:00 this morning? waking up Why aren’t you texting the last person you kissed? who said we aren’t texting? Do you think you’ll actually live a happy life with somebody? don’t feed my paranoia Connection between you and the last person who messaged you? love Where is your biological father right now? bus/job already Who else is in the room with you? I’m alone Water with ice or no ice? no ice  Are you wrapped in a blanket? too hot for that

Has anyone done anything nice for you today? I’m thankful for all those nice things people do for me - big or small The last time you hung out with your sibling(s), what did you do? took a walk

Do you usually bring or buy a lunch for school? bring

The last time you had sex, was it in their bed or yours? their

How old were you when you figured out you were definitely straight, or bi, or whatever? middle school was the beginning 

Do you fit in at work or in school? I was always an outcast

Have you ever looked in the mirror and thought, “Oh God, Ew.”? 99% of time

Have you ever cried at a real wedding? nope

Is there someone you need to forgive? *annoyed sound*

What’s your brother(s) / sister(s) names? personal

Suppose you saw your crush/bf/gf kissing another girl/guy, what would you do? why tho

What is your favorite color for bridesmaid dresses? whatever bridesmaid wanna wear besides white

Do you have a secret crush right now? it’s no secret

Do you know anyone who doesn’t want to have kids? me

Would you rather visit Tokyo or Paris? dunno

Do you think you would like living in New York or Chicago? Why or why not? too overcrowded/loud etc.

Name 3 celebrities who are the same height as you. Lady Gaga, Ellen Page, Reese Witherspoon

Are you happy with your height? I’d like to be taller, not too much tho

Do you have big or small hands? small

Have you been baptized?  I have been 

Have you ever been abused in any way? sadly

Do you like unicorns? they’re fine

Is there one book you have read over and over again because it’s so good? if so, which is it? I don’t reread books

Do you play games on your phone a lot? recently I became obsessed with LOVE ISLAND game 

Have you ever had to put out a kitchen fire? my mom took care of it but it wasn’t a big deal tbh

Have you ever been kidnapped? wut

Do you have anything glow in the dark in your room? stars

Do you wear a scarf, if so, what does it look like? not rn

Is there a video or computer game that you can get lost in for hours? mhm but not too long

Do you get breadsticks with your pizza? breadsticks and pizza? it’s like bread with bread - no thx

Did you ever have a waterbed? I hate those

What toy from your childhood do you miss? rubber toys?

Did you sleep in late today? yes

When was the last time you were disappointed? this day

Do you like listening to love songs? I like a variety of music which includes love songs

In your group of friends, are you the smart one, athletic one, etc.? funny mom friend... ok, fine, a dad because my puns are daddy jokes

Has any of your friends’ family ever yelled at you? no but they said bad things about me behind my back

Did you ever watch the show Full House? with my sister What was the last thing that scared you? how I feel physically Do the librarians at your library know you by name? they do

What ten people would you most likely bring on a roadtrip? 10 ppl?! shoot me...

Is there anything you’re really stressed out about right now? health issues

What was the last thing that made you cry? I’m about to cry...

What are the last three songs you listened to? Crystal Castles - Suffocation  frnkiero andthe cellabration - neverenders  Major Lazer - Be Together (Feat. Wild Belle)

[greenthundcr]

38, 58, 64 !

100 Random Character Development Questions.

038. What bad habits do they have?

antagonizing o’chunks until he gets punched into next week !!!

mr l just. doesn’t take care of himself. he doesn’t sleep, he just passes out from exhaustion. he tends to rely on items to keep himself fresh for battle, and even though it technically works??? i think he should just take a break and actually go tf to bed.

bites his nails sometimes but he wears gloves so often that he doesnt rlly get a chance to

058. What is your character’s idea of a perfect day?

in general, he’d actually rlly like to sit outside in a garden or at the beach on a nice day, maybe with his team or other ppl he cares about, maybe alone. he has good food w him and there’s nothing that needs to get done, and he’s just. enjoying nature & pleasant weather.

(he would hate to actually experience this sort of thing for more than one day at a time, though. he gets bored really easily so while a break would be nice, he wouldn’t want it to drag on for too long).

more specifically, he just. he really wants to beat the heroes, just once. please. fhdjkdj they’re so annoying and it makes no sense for them to be able to beat him!! what more could it take to stop them than missiles and lasers and giant robots?? his perfect day would be beating them decisively and definitively, and for the count to tell him how well he’s done and that he really is the best minion bleck’s ever had. because of mr. l, the prophecy is completed smoothly, and everyone’s chilling in a bright new world and also they treat him with respect and maybe people cheer for him and everyone knows that they couldn’t have done it without the green thunder! :) good job, mr. l!

064. In what ways does your character annoy others?

in all ways dhfk h.. .. . .

he insults people often (both fellow minions and his enemies), he does that awful kind of flirting w peach, he can be either very loud & obnoxious or just completely ignore ppl and go off on his own, he’s very one-track w his work & his robots. in a thread w kitty, nastasia thought abt trying to make him less annoying & thought instead that it’d be a good punishment for the heroes, and she was right. mr. l is so.... Much.

ofc he’s not like this all the time, but. yeah. he can be annoying

[mclunarlove]

1. Top 3 favorite songs at the moment?

Drew Barrymore by Bryce Vine , Prom Dress by mxmtoon, Prom Queen by Beach Bunny and Breathe by Catie Turner. I couldn’t keep it to three.

2. What are you wearing right now?

A small shirt that says Nice with a bee, gym shorts, and orange nike slides

3. Favorite season?

Summer. I’ve been thinking on my a mini comic about why so ppl stop hating on this beautiful season, summmer.

4. Left handed or right handed?

Right handed, my dude

5. Favorite thing you like about yourself?

I really like my hair. I’ve recently dyed it pink.

6. Favorite TV show at the moment?

I’ve been going through a lot of different ones. The good place is well a good one. But recently I’ve when back and watched Danny Phantom. It’s really funny because it only a couple years old but seeing them talk about the internet and phones is hilarious.

7. What are some of your pet peeves?

People being assholes

8. Favorite and least favorite subjects in school?

I love art and don’t love math

9. Plans for the future?

Finally get my driver’s liscense, get a new job, get money, and do art. Also do well in college.

10. If you could travel anywhere, where would you go?

I really want to go to Tokyo. It just seems really cool.

11. What celebrity do you look up to?

The McElroy family counts as a whole unit.

12. Who/what makes you smile regardless?

Stupid vines or videos. And recently Bakugo from My Hero Academia. What a sweet and spicy boy.

13. Favorite song lyrics?

Currently any lyric from the song Prom Queen by Beach Bunny but I do really like “Maybe I should try harder. You should lower your beauty standards”

14. Favorite movie?

Big hero 6 has like a throne on the list of movies I love

15. What is the worst thing someone could do to you?

I’ll pass.

16. What pets do you have/want to have?

I have a very handsome cat named Beerus and I would love to have a Buffalo.

17. Describe your day today?

Not the best but not the worst.

18. Night owl or morning bird?

Sadly, a night owl. I do admire morning birds greatly tho.

19. Favorite musical artist?

Don’t really have a favorite. But I do like the NBHD, Carly

Rea Jepson, and

20. How old are you?

18 yrs old

21. Where are you from?

Pass

22. What are a few things on your bucket list?

Own a party bus, car surf, get swole, finally nail the Hawaiian summertime dad aesthetic and etc.

23. Do you have/want any tattoos?

I want a couple of small ones. Like a cute bubbly heart, a landscape, and I really want the digimon crests.

24. Do you have/want any piercings?

I would love a lot of piercing on my ears.

25. What do you hate most about yourself?

Pass. I’m trying to love myself. Can’t do this.

26. What does your last text message say?

“ Perish”

27. What would you name your future daughter/son?

I always really like the names Joy and Willis.

28. What are you listening to right now?

“My brother, My brother, and Me” a podcast by the McElroy Brothers.

29. What is the last book you read?

Good Omens......but I still haven’t finished it.

30. Favorite food?

I really like lasagna. And a bunch of different foods but I rarely eat lasagna.

31. Cats or dogs?

Both r very good.

32. Introverted or extroverted?

Introvert, my dude

33. When and why did you first join tumblr?

I first joined in 2014 because I was really into Big Hero 6 even before it came out and this was the only place that was talking about bh6 before it came out. There was like a whole pre-fandom and everything 😂😂

34. Celebrity OTP?

Idk don’t really ship ppl but I do love Ryan and Blake

35. Tv show OTP?

Man, ok now this is a fucking list but the first one that popped into my head is Tododeku.

36. What is your zodiac sign?

Aquarius

37. Lucky number?

7 like a basic bitch

38. Gender?

That a tough one. I don’t know how I feel about gender; especially mine. I will be hella chill with any pronoun but most of the time I identify as a female.

39. What’s the last thing you watched on Netflix?

The good place

40. When is your birthday?

January

41. Where are you from?

Imma be broad so America.

42. If you could, what celebrity would you want to meet?

Adam Sandler

43. Last concert you went to?

Never been to one.

44. What do you think of me/my tumblr account?

Don’t know you but thanks for the question. I’m sure your a cool guy and down for a cool hang.

45. Favorite holiday?

Easter

46. Favorite animal?

Bisons and Buffalos

47. TV you love that’s underrated?

Does digimon count? Ppl usually dunk on me because of Pokémon. I like them both but I GREW up on that digirap

48. What’s your relationship status?

Single. Yup. Surprising no one.

49. What do you want to be/do when you grow up?

Anything to do with media and art at this point.

50. What would you do if you won the lottery?

Pay for college

51. ASK ME ANYTHING YOU WANT

I’m good but hella thanks for making theses questions @stranger-reviews This was actually really fun. I know I answered a lot of them really short but I didn’t want this to be hella long.

[osomatsu-san-quotes]

Time to get to know me a little more, don't have to read, just something 4 fun

1. Who was the last person you held hands with?

My mom-

2. Are you outgoing or shy?

shy

3. Who are you looking forward to seeing?

Not really anyone-

4. Are you easy to get along with?

Depends. If work then no, if just hanging out then I think so

5. If you were drunk would the person you like take care of you?

‘‘I like’‘ friend: probably. ‘‘I like’‘ crush: no

6. What kind of people are you attracted to?

outgoing ppl and that just like memes and gaming. Don't know really

7. Do you think you’ll be in a relationship two months from now?

Nope

8. Who from the opposite gender is on your mind?

my older, middle brother

9. Does talking about sex make you uncomfortable?

little bit

10. Who was the last person you had a deep conversation with?

Mom

11. What does the most recent text that you sent say?

‘‘Ah, ok.’‘

12. What are your 5 favorite songs right now?

Kenshi Yonezu songs. (Nighthawks, Lemon, Eine Kleine, Loser, BNHA Intro 2/Peace sign)

13. Do you like it when people play with your hair?

Yeah but I have hair that is greasy 24/7. So the person would probably be grossed out before they touch it

14. Do you believe in luck and miracles?

Ye

15. What good thing happened this summer?

summer sucks so badly- but I guess…..I- don't know actually

16. Would you kiss the last person you kissed again?

Never kissed someone before

17. Do you think there is life on other planets?

Nah

18. Do you still talk to your first crush?

Nope, I told him and after years of being good/best friends we stopped talking

19. Do you like bubble baths?

absolutely

20. Do you like your neighbors?

don't have them. Or I just never talk to them

21. What are your bad habits?

This is kinda embarrassing but thumb sucking. like a baby. Also, nail biting

22. Where would you like to travel?

Japan or China

23. Do you have trust issues?

yeah.

24. Favorite part of your daily routine?

sitting behind my computer

25. What part of your body are you most uncomfortable with?

My face

26. What do you do when you wake up?

think about life and lay there for 30 mins

27. Do you wish your skin was lighter or darker?

darker. I'm a marshmallow now

28. Who are you most comfortable around?

My older youngest brother

29. Have any of your ex’s told you they regret breaking up?

Ye, surprisingly

30. Do you ever want to get married?

Probably yes

31. If your hair long enough for a ponytail?

I think it has to say ‘‘Is’‘, so yeah, it is

32. Which celebrities would you have a threesome with?

Interesting question- I don't keep in touch with the new celebrities so idk.

33. Spell your name with your chin.

oh god- Ill just use my nickname ppl know me as, not my real one:

RfdIkVERf     -  River

34. Do you play sports? What sports?

I have a worse condition than a snail

35. Would you rather live without TV or music?

without tv. Don't watch it. Also, you have youtube

36. Have you ever liked someone and never told them?

Once.

37. What do you say during awkward silences?

Nothing

38. Describe your dream girl/guy?

Likes gaming, horror, memes, and is overall a nice guy to talk to

39. What are your favorite stores to shop in?

Outside? You want me dead?

40. What do you want to do after high school?

Probably go into game design

41. Do you believe everyone deserves a second chance?

Depends on what they have done

42. If you're being extremely quiet what does it mean?

I'm being myself

43. Do you smile at strangers?

If I try to smile I look like I am disappointed in them or angry

44. Trip to outer space or bottom of the ocean?

outer space.

45. What makes you get out of bed in the morning?

Remembering I have youtube vids to watch and I have books to read

46. What are you paranoid about?

the things I don't know

47. Have you ever been high?

Nope

48. Have you ever been drunk?

Nah

49. Have you done anything recently that you hope nobody finds out about?

Yeah. So I ain't going to tell it

50. What was the color of the last hoodie you wore?

Purple. I am wearing it rn

51. Ever wished you were someone else?

Yeah, constantly

52. One thing you wish you could change about yourself?

My face

53. Favorite makeup brand?

I don't do makeup

54. Favorite store?

Don't go to stores

55. Favorite blog?

Can't think of anything on the top of my head. Too many

56. Favorite color?

Purple or black

57. Favorite food?

Broccoli or something unhealthy like hamburgers

58. Last thing you ate?

McDonald's

59. First thing you ate this morning?

Worstenbroodjes

60. Ever won a competition? For what?

Yeah. Won a playback competition in 4th grade of elementary

61. Been suspended/expelled? For what?

Once. I yelled back at my teacher

62. Been arrested? For what?

I'm too much of a pussy to do something to get myself arrested

63. Ever been in love?

Of course

64. Tell us the story of your first kiss?

Mk. It all started when I was a baby and my mom kissed me on the head

65. Are you hungry right now?

Just ate

66. Do you like your Tumblr friends more than your real friends?

Don't have Tumblr friends, (Or real friends)

67. Facebook or Twitter?

Twitter

68. Twitter or Tumblr?

Tumblr

69. Are you watching tv right now?

Nope

70. Names of your best friends?

Don’t have them

71. Craving something? What?

A drink

72. What color are your towels?

blue, blue, black, white

72. How many pillows do you sleep with?

around 5

73. Do you sleep with stuffed animals?

Yeah

74. How many stuffed animals do you think you have?

over 100 probably

75. Favorite animal?

Bears or cats

76. What color is your underwear?

Night sky dark blue

77. Chocolate or Vanilla?

Chocolate

78. Favorite ice cream flavor?

Chocolate

79. What color shirt are you wearing?

Purple hoodie

80. What color pants?

dark grey sweatpants

81. Favorite tv show?

Tanked

82. Favorite movie?

UhHHhh Osomatsu san the movie probably, not sure yet.

83. Mean Girls or Mean Girls 2?

Never seen both but I think I like Mean Girls from what I've seen and heard

84. Mean Girls or 21 Jump Street?

Mean Girls.

85. Favorite character from Mean Girls?

Never seen it

86. Favorite character from Finding Nemo?

random, but Dory

87. The first person, you talked to today?

My older middle brother

88. The last person, you talked to today?

Mom

89. Name a person you hate?

To many

90. Name a person you love?

my family

91. Is there anyone you want to punch in the face right now?

100% 24/7 yes

92. In a fight with someone?

Have been.

93. How many sweatpants do you have?

around 5

94. How many sweaters/hoodies do you have?

9

95. Last movie you watched?

Detective Pikachu

96. Favorite actress?

don't have one

97. Favorite actor?

don't have one

98. Do you tan a lot?

No

99. Have any pets?

ye

100. How are you feeling?

could be better, could be worse

101. Do you type fast?

ye

102. Do you regret anything from your past?

of course, I do

103. Can you spell well?

Depends if I'm rushing: not

104. Do you miss anyone from your past?

Ye

105. Ever been to a bonfire party?

Yep

106. Ever broken someone’s heart?

Yeah

107. Have you ever been on a horse?

Mhm

108. What should you be doing?

Getting ready to go to bed

109. Is something irritating you right now?

Nah

110. Have you ever liked someone so much it hurt?

Nada

111. Do you have trust issues?

Isn't this question asked before?

112. Who was the last person you cried in front of?

Mom

113. What was your childhood nickname?

Never had one

114. Have you ever been out of your province/state?

Yeah

115. Do you play the Wii?

Used to

116. Are you listening to music right now?

Nope, for once

117. Do you like chicken noodle soup?

Never tried it

118. Do you like Chinese food?

Kinda

119. Favorite book?

Warrior Cats

120. Are you afraid of the dark?

Pretty spoopy shit

121. Are you mean?

I dunno

122. Is cheating ever okay?

Nope

123. Can you keep white shoes clean?

Waste of time when they are going to be dirty again by the next day

124. Do you believe in love at first sight?

Never thought of it.

125. Do you believe in true love?

Probably not

126. Are you currently bored?

YEah

127. What makes you happy?

Spending time with myself

128. Would you change your name?

Mhm

129. What your zodiac sign?

Libra

130. Do you like subway?

Never tried it

131. Your best friend of the opposite sex likes you, what do you do?

Think about life and what to do

132. Who’s the last person you had a deep conversation with?

This has been asked before

133. Favorite lyrics right now?

‘‘Write a story of a hero!’‘ - Peace sign

134. Can you count to one million?

Yeah but I ain't gonna try rn 

135. Dumbest lie you ever told?

A lot, hard to pick one

136. Do you sleep with your doors open or closed?

Open

137. How tall are you?

around 5′9

138. Curly or Straight hair?

Straight

139. Brunette or Blonde?

Blonde

140. Summer or Winter?

Winter

141. Night or Day?

Night

142. Favorite month?

October & December

143. Are you a vegetarian?

Nope

144. Dark, milk or white chocolate?

Dark

145. Tea or Coffee?

Neither

146. Was today a good day?

Yeah

147. Mars or Snickers?

Mars

148. What’s your favorite quote?

‘‘Eh’‘ -points to sweater- ‘‘ ‘Not my problem‘ ‘‘

149. Do you believe in ghosts?

Kinda??

150. Get the closest book next to you, open it to page 42, what’s the first line on that page?

don't have a book next to me

Wow if you are here holy shit- ty??

-Mod Nekomatsu

[euphoriecs]

gemini and taurus for when the sun falls, andromeda and ursa major for world end club, and apus and caelum for you!

!!!!!! thank u so much for the asks !!!!!!

Gemini - What inspired you to write this project?

i was rly inspired to write when the sun falls by several things !! namely the neighborhood that i live in bc im 99% sure its haunted at night, and a lot of different anime that ive been watching !! wtsf is also inspired by a couple of kpop mvs like the hyyh series + spring day by bts nd pentagon’s demo series as well as som Very Very Very vague ‘all in’ by mx inspo !!!

im personally rly drawn to imagery/themes like running, finding ur own family nd overthrowing ppl of power :D

Taurus - Tell us why you hate your project.

hMMM this is a tough question ,, mainly bc im in that honeymoon phase w wtsf,, but i think . if there’s something i’ve definitely struggled with concerning wtsf that has made me go “hoooOOOOOO i hate u” ,,, its maybe trying to create a convincing fictional town in california ,,, where i’ve never been GHJSGS not 2 mention ive never rly grown up in a small town ??? its always been a city , so im constantly worried i just wont nail that small town feeling . i think as i develop wtsf more , there’s bound 2 be things that have me struggling nd feeling like “hecc time 2 delete” but as of right now , i’m in a rly good place where i dont hate (mostly) what im developing !!!

Andromeda - Describe your main characters

wORLD END CLUB MY FIRST WIP …… on a HUGE backburner right now bc im just . TOTALLY unsatisfied w the characters which is FUNNY but !!! the mcs im keeping around are definitely the kang siblings so i’ll jus talk abt them KJHGS

so lets start w !! doyeon kang !! the oldest brother !!!! i dont remember how old i made him yeet but he’s very ,, he always tries to be a positive nd funny presence bc he hates the idea that anyone could worry for him , u know? he rly leans into the belief that he’ll be fine if he acts like he’s fine, nd is honestly more pressed to care about what happened to rena . he’s rly Aware of his surroundings bc he doesn’t want a repeat of what happened six years ago, when rena was snatched away from their street bc he was too focused on banging some bolts together . he’s also rly … Decent , w his ability to teleport . but he can b reckless w it at times which is what led to an accident that cost him his arm .

rena ,,, my sweet Babie,,, she’s very ?? quiet . nd spending 6 years as an experiment (and as one of the few successful ones in the early phases) has led her to become rly wary of ppl . but ?? that hasn’t rly stopped her drive to take down the corporation that turned her into smth else . she used to be very cheerful nd happy nd was literally sunshine personified nd she still can be like that !! but it’s a lot more muted nd kept 2 herself or ppl close to her . i think what makes her such an interesting character 2 write is that the world has been so unkind to her and her brother , but she doesn’t believe she should act the same (nd honestly, if she wanted 2 do bad things, she could !! nd it would be destructive !!) nd instead she pushes to help so no one else has to go thru what she went .

Ursa Major - What scene are you looking forward to writing?

oh my god ,,, i’ve had this kind of like ,, scene just floating around in my head . of rena nd doyeon meeting again for the first time in a Long time , nd i see it as a rly tearful ,,, we’ve both changed so much , also icb ur alive that’s wild … honestly there’s nothing rly set in stone here ,,, but its smth im looking forward to writing bc #sibs …

Apus -  What’s the hardest part about writing for you?

getting ?? things down ?? nd then being happy w it ?????? like there are so many little drabbles nd stuff where i slam the idea down nd then delete it all bc im like thats garbage u can do better . nd then i just never do it . bc if its not Perfect the first time , me, hovering over that delete: hhhheeeeeee !!!!!! which is Also why i have a huge issue w rereading what i’ve written . i hate it KJHGJS like i literally will Never ever willingly reread smth i wrote , bc then i pick it apart nd jus delete it all . 

Caelum - Do you write outlines? Why or why not?

i uSED TO NOT WRITE OUTLINES SKJHEJSHJSK nd i’d have ideas for SUPER LONG FICS … ND I’D WRITE THE FIRST CHAP ND POST IT and then bc i had no idea where i was going w said fic i’d jsut abandon it . but i write outlines now . i live nd Breathe outlines . i feel like esp for me , where i’m constantly buzzing w new ideas nd possibilities nd scenarios, its so so so helpful for me to have an outline nd to know where im going with this idea nd how i want it to end . nd my outlines are pretty flexible too, so if i wanna change smth up i can !! anyways yes i do write outlines i think theyre extremely important esp since i have one (1) brain cell and she can’t work too hard or she dies

constellation asks !!