#oh my gODS i literally cant get over how perfect his voice is

[fischotterkunst]

I JUST GOT TO WATCH THE SHADOW TRAILER IM LOSING MY FUCKING MIND GNAWING ON THE BARS OF MY ENCLOSURE THAS MY SONNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNN

[jungwnies]

scaring your f1 boyfriend | requested

୨ৎ : featuring : max verstappen, lewis hamilton, george russell, carlos sainz, charles leclerc, lando norris, oscar piastri ୨ৎ : synopsis : jump-scaring your boyfriend LOL

୨ৎ : genre : humor ୨ৎ : tws : teasing, yelling, fluff, lots of jumpscares, mentions of scary themes ୨ৎ : word count : 3840

୨ masterlist ৎ

ᡣ𐭩 a/n : the max photo above is literally killing me i cant 😭

ʚ・max verstappen

max had just stepped into the shower, letting the hot water rinse away the stress of the day. the bathroom was dimly lit, a soft glow from the streetlight outside filtering through the small frosted window. you, meanwhile, had been sitting on the couch, bored out of your mind, until the perfect idea struck you.

with the stealth of a spy, you crept to the bathroom and flipped the light switch off. the room was immediately plunged into shadow, save for the faint moonlight that spilled through the window. you silently positioned yourself in front of the shower curtain, your heart racing with anticipation.

inside, max paused. "y/n? did the power go out?"

you stayed silent, fighting the urge to laugh.

"y/n?" his voice was louder this time, tinged with confusion. "hello?"

still, you said nothing.

there was a beat of silence, then the water stopped. you heard him shuffling around, probably grabbing a towel.

"did you forget to pay the electric bill or something?" he asked, his dry humor cutting through the quiet. "seriously, what’s going on? you can at least answer me, you know."

you didn’t move a muscle, standing perfectly still, a shadow among shadows.

"y/n, if you’re trying to mess with me, it’s not funny," he said, his voice closer now.

the shower curtain shifted slightly, and then it flew open. for a second, max didn’t register what he was seeing—the faint outline of a figure standing inches away from him, completely silent and unmoving.

"WHAT THE F—" he jumped back, nearly slipping on the wet tiles as he grabbed onto the shower rod for support.

"y/n!" he barked, his voice cracking slightly. "what the hell is wrong with you?!"

you couldn’t hold it in anymore and burst out laughing, clutching your stomach as he stood there, towel in hand, glaring at you with wide eyes.

"oh my god," he muttered, his hand still on his chest as he tried to catch his breath. "i actually thought i was about to get murdered in my own shower. do you know how ridiculous that is?"

"you should’ve seen your face!" you gasped, tears streaming down your cheeks.

he stared at you for a moment, then shook his head. "you’re lucky i didn’t slip and die. imagine explaining that to everyone." his lips twitched, betraying the smallest hint of a smile.

"totally worth it," you managed between giggles.

he groaned, wrapping the towel around himself. "you’re insane, you know that?" he muttered as he walked past you.

"and you’re so easy to scare," you shot back, grinning.

as he left the bathroom, he called over his shoulder, "enjoy your victory, y/n. because next time, i’m getting you."

ʚ・lewis hamilton

lewis had just wrapped up an exhausting day—a full schedule of training, meetings, and, of course, dodging paparazzi. as he entered the dimly lit bedroom, he was humming lightly to himself, his calm demeanor a stark contrast to the chaos you were orchestrating under the bed. you were lying in wait, suppressing giggles as you positioned yourself for the ultimate ankle grab.

he moved around the room with his usual grace, taking his time as he set his phone down on the nightstand and slipped off his jacket. "man, what a day," he muttered to himself, running a hand through his braids. oblivious to the brewing chaos below him, he leaned down to untie his sneakers. you had to bite your lip to keep from laughing—you were so close.

finally, he stood, stretching his arms with a relaxed sigh, and took a casual step toward the bed. now or never, you thought, and as soon as his foot came within reach, you shot your hand out and grabbed his ankle.

"OH SH—!" lewis screamed, leaping so high he looked like he was auditioning for a horror movie. he scrambled backward, nearly tripping over himself as his eyes darted around the room, wide with panic.

"NOPE. NO. NOT TODAY," he shouted, grabbing a pillow off the bed like it was a weapon. "WHO—WHAT IS THAT?!"

you couldn’t hold it in anymore. rolling out from under the bed, you were already crying with laughter, clutching your stomach as you gasped for air.

"y/n?!" he blinked, realization dawning as his terror morphed into sheer disbelief. "nah, nah, nah. are you serious right now?! you’re the demon under the bed?!"

"your face! your scream!" you choked out between fits of laughter. "i didn’t know you had that kind of altitude! do they measure verticals in f1?"

he stood there, hands on his hips, still holding the pillow like a shield. "first of all, don’t test me. i thought i was about to get dragged to hell. second of all, i will sue you for emotional damages."

"oh, come on," you teased, finally sitting up. "you’re a seven-time world champion, but a little ankle grab gets you?"

"don’t even start," he said, his voice shaking with residual laughter as he tried to regain his composure. "i thought i was about to throw hands with a ghost or something!"

"worth it," you grinned, dodging the pillow he threw at you as he finally shook his head, laughing.

ʚ・george russell

it was 3am, and george woke up to what he thought was the faint sound of your voice calling his name. groggy and slightly disoriented, he sat up in bed, glancing over—only to find your side empty.

“y/n?” he called softly, but there was no response.

with a sigh, he swung his legs over the bed and got up, rubbing the back of his neck. the house was eerily quiet, the kind of silence that made every little sound feel amplified.

he stepped out into the dark hallway, the faint moonlight from a nearby window barely illuminating the path ahead. “y/n?” he called again, his voice a bit louder this time.

then he saw them.

at the far end of the hallway stood two small figures wrapped in identical blankets, their faces barely visible in the dim light. they were completely still, their heads slightly tilted to the side in perfect synchronization.

george froze, his breath catching in his throat. “what... the hell?”

he squinted, trying to make sense of what he was seeing. his heart started to pound as one of them took a tiny, almost imperceptible step forward.

“y/n, if this is some kind of joke, it’s not funny,” he said, his voice betraying the fact that he was definitely spooked.

then, in perfect unison, your twin cousins whispered, “come play with us...”

that was it. george practically stumbled backward, his hand slamming into the wall for support. “oh, NO. absolutely NOT.”

he turned on his heel and bolted back toward the bedroom, muttering under his breath, “nope, nope, nope. i didn’t sign up for this. i date you, not some stephen king horror scene.”

you, of course, were hiding just out of sight, trying your hardest not to laugh as you watched the whole thing unfold.

george made it back to the bedroom, his nerves still shot. he sat on the edge of the bed, running a hand through his hair and muttering, “this is why i don’t watch horror movies…”

just as he started to relax, he looked up—and there you were, standing completely still in the doorway, wrapped in your own blanket, your face partially obscured by the shadows.

"oh, for—NOPE!" he yelped, scrambling backward on the bed like a man who had just seen his worst nightmare materialize. "y/n, what the actual—how are you everywhere right now?!"

you couldn’t hold it in anymore and burst out laughing, flipping on the lights as tears streamed down your face. “oh my god, george, you’re too easy!”

his eyes adjusted to the sudden brightness, and that’s when he noticed your cousins peeking into the room behind you, still eerily in sync, still in their matching blankets.

he groaned, rubbing his temples. “y/n, it’s three in the morning. i genuinely thought i was about to get haunted by some creepy twins.”

“but you weren’t,” you teased. “just my cousins. aren’t they great actors?”

the twins gave him a little wave, their innocent smiles betraying none of the chaos they’d just caused. george blinked, staring at them, then at you. “your cousins?! so, you planned all of this?”

“yep,” you said proudly, walking over to sit beside him. “they nailed it, didn’t they?”

“nailed it?” george repeated, still clutching his chest. “y/n, i thought i was about to die. do you have any idea what it’s like to wake up at 3am and see that at the end of a hallway?”

you couldn’t stop laughing as he continued his rant. “honestly, you’re lucky i didn’t faint. or worse—trip and break something.”

“but you didn’t,” you teased, nudging him.

he sighed dramatically, finally flopping back onto the bed. “if this is the kind of chaos i’m signing up for with you, i’m going to need to start sleeping with a nightlight.”

you grinned, leaning over to kiss his cheek. “you love it.”

he groaned but couldn’t help the small laugh that escaped. “remind me to check for tiny people in blankets before leaving bed at 3am from now on.”

ʚ・carlos sainz

it was one of those mornings where carlos was running a little behind, juggling work and trying to get out the door as quickly as possible. he hopped into his car, mind already on the busy day ahead. he tossed his jacket onto the passenger seat, started the engine, and zoomed off toward the office, not noticing that you were quietly hiding in the backseat.

you’d sneaked into the car earlier when he was distracted, hiding behind the seats and waiting for the perfect moment to scare him.

as carlos drove through the city, his thoughts were consumed with meetings, deadlines, and that one email he needed to send. he hummed along to the radio, completely oblivious to the fact that you were crouched behind him, practically holding your breath.

when he finally pulled into the parking lot at his office, he parked the car and got out, walking around to the back to grab his jacket. you could feel the excitement building up. now, it was showtime.

as soon as carlos opened the back door and turned his back to grab his jacket, you slowly sat up and leaned forward. you had just the right angle to pop your head into his line of sight.

“you forgot something,” you whispered, just loud enough for him to hear.

carlos froze. his eyes widened, his whole body went stiff, and before he could even process what was going on, he screamed, his voice high-pitched and panicked.

"¡ME CAGO EN LA P...!" he shouted, his heart racing as his body jerked back. "¡QUÉ COÑO ES ESO?" ("I shit myself!" "What the hell is that?!)

his hands shot up as if he was ready to defend himself, but he just stood there in complete shock, looking at you in the back seat.

after a few seconds of complete silence, he finally found his voice. "y/n, WHAT THE HELL?!"

you were barely holding back your laughter, completely enjoying the chaos you’d caused. “i got you good, huh?”

"cabron!" he cursed, still catching his breath as he tried to steady himself. (jerk!) “why the hell would you do that?!”

you stepped out of the car, still laughing. “i couldn’t resist!”

“seriously, you scared the life out of me,” he said, shaking his head and trying to calm down. he took a deep breath, his voice finally switching back to english. “you know, one of these days, you’re going to be the death of me.”

“you love it,” you teased with a grin.

“yeah, well,” he muttered, rubbing his chest where his heart was still pounding. “next time, you better believe i’m checking the back seat before i even get in the car.”

“oh, i’m counting on it,” you said, still smiling from ear to ear.

ʚ・charles leclerc

charles was live on twitch, fully engrossed in a high-stakes sim racing session. he had his headphones on, occasionally glancing at the chat to answer questions or laugh at their antics. what he didn’t know was that you, his girlfriend, were plotting a masterpiece of chaos behind the scenes.

armed with some impressively dark body paint, you transformed yourself into a shadowy figure, blending almost perfectly into the darkness behind his gaming chair. the setup was perfect—his room was dimly lit, with just the glow of his monitors keeping things visible. you slipped quietly into position behind him, crouched low, and waited.

his chat was quick to notice something off.

chat: "charles there’s someone behind you 😳" "bro wtf is that in the back" "TURN AROUND CHARLES."

but charles just chuckled. "guys, stop trying to scare me. i know y/n isn’t here, she’s downstairs."

you bit your lip to suppress a laugh as the chat erupted with frantic messages. then, it was time to strike. you let out a low, guttural growl, something straight out of a horror movie.

charles froze mid-turn. "uh—what was that?" he muttered, glancing around nervously.

"it’s probably the wind," he said, but his voice wavered.

he finally spun around in his chair, squinting into the shadows. at first, he didn’t see anything—just darkness. but then, he grabbed his phone and turned on the flashlight.

"chat, you’re being ridiculous, there’s no one here—"

and that’s when he saw you.

painted in a deep, almost pitch-black shade, you stared back at him with wide, unblinking eyes. the flashlight beam caught your eerie silhouette, and he let out the most high-pitched scream you’d ever heard.

"MON DIEU!" he shouted, nearly falling out of his chair as his chat went wild with laughter and messages like "💀💀💀" and "i can’t breathe."

you burst out laughing, standing up to reveal the full extent of your paint job. "surprise!"

"y/n, WHAT IS THIS?" he exclaimed, clutching his chest. "i thought you were a ghost! or a demon!"

his chat was absolutely losing it.

"she’s a menace omg." "y/n deserves an oscar for this." "never trusting the dark again."

charles glared at you, though his lips twitched in amusement. "you are unbelievable. i will get you back for this, i promise."

"worth it," you said with a grin, blowing him a kiss.

the clip went viral, and for weeks, his fans teased him about his "ghost girlfriend." meanwhile, you were already planning your next prank.

ʚ・lando norris

lando was sprawled on the couch, his attention fully on the game in front of him. his fingers moved rapidly over the controller, the sound of the game providing a steady backdrop to his intense focus. you had been waiting for the perfect opportunity, and now was your chance.

earlier, you had picked up a realistic fake cockroach, the kind that would easily fool anyone into thinking it was real. with it in hand, you silently crept toward lando as he was deeply engrossed in his game, completely unaware of the chaos about to unfold.

you waited until he leaned forward, his eyes glued to the screen, and then you placed the cockroach right on his lap. you quickly backed away, staying just out of sight, holding your breath, waiting for his reaction.

it didn’t take long.

lando, completely unaware at first, shifted in his seat, and then his eyes widened when he glanced down and saw the cockroach. for a moment, he froze, his brain taking a second to process what was happening. and then, in true lando fashion, his reaction was absolutely priceless.

“what the hell?!” he yelped, jumping off the couch like he’d just been electrocuted. the controller flew from his hands, landing with a loud clunk on the floor. he stepped back, looking down at his lap like the cockroach was some kind of ticking time bomb.

“oh my god!” he shouted, his voice higher than usual as he stumbled backward, his eyes scanning the floor. “y/n!! what the actual hell?!”

you were already standing by the door, biting your lip, trying to keep from bursting out laughing at his reaction.

“i—uh, i just thought you might want to meet a new friend,” you said, grinning as you stepped into the room.

lando’s face had gone from absolute panic to an exaggerated glare. “no! that was not funny. you’re a menace!” he took a deep breath, trying to calm himself down, but his heart was still racing. “i thought i was about to die. i can’t believe you did that to me.”

you were laughing at this point, absolutely loving how freaked out he was. “you’re so dramatic,” you teased, holding up the fake cockroach. “it’s just a toy, lando.”

he stared at you like you were insane. “you know i’m terrified of bugs, and you still thought this was a good idea?” he rubbed his face in exasperation, though there was a slight smile tugging at his lips. “i swear, i’m going to get you back for this.”

“yeah, yeah,” you said, still grinning. “you’re so lucky i didn’t make it real.”

lando shot you a side-eye. “next time, i’m locking the door. and you’re not getting anywhere near me with anything that crawls.”

ʚ・oscar piastri

you had been eyeing that haunted doll on ebay for weeks. the description was too good to pass up: “genuine haunted doll, spiritual energy present, handle with care.” it was perfect for a prank, and you knew oscar would hate it. he was already freaked out by anything remotely supernatural, so you were just dying to get your hands on this doll. when it finally arrived in the mail, you couldn’t wait to start your little game.

of course, oscar had warned you that buying a haunted doll was a terrible idea. “don’t you dare bring that thing into our house,” he had said, his face scrunched in worry. “it’s bad enough that you already watch ghost shows. why do you need an actual haunted doll?”

you grinned mischievously, already planning your moves. “it’ll be fine, oscar. i’m sure it’s just a bunch of fake stories.”

he didn’t look convinced, but as usual, you went ahead with your plan. the night after the doll arrived, you decided it was time to mess with him. you placed the doll in the living room chair, its beady little eyes staring blankly ahead. in the dead of night, you casually walked past, dropping it on the floor, facing a different direction.

by the time oscar woke up the next morning, he was already uneasy. he noticed the doll on the floor in the living room, but he shrugged it off—until it happened again.

the next night, you quietly slipped the doll onto the bed, positioning it so that its lifeless gaze met his when he opened his eyes in the morning. as expected, he jumped back when he saw it, groaning loudly, "y/n, come on! this isn't funny anymore!"

"i swear, oscar, i don’t know how it got there," you said, acting all innocent, trying not to burst out laughing. "maybe you moved it?"

he glared at you. "no, i didn’t. i know you’re messing with me."

but it wasn’t over. you kept sneaking the doll into different spots: the bathroom counter, the kitchen table, the shower. he would get startled each time, becoming more and more agitated. you kept up the act, pretending to be clueless, like the doll was really just showing up on its own.

that night, though, something strange happened.

as you were lying in bed, just drifting off to sleep, you heard something faint. a soft scraping sound. it was so quiet, you thought it was just your imagination. but then, you heard it again—a slight, dragging noise, coming from the living room.

oscar shifted beside you, his eyes wide. "did you hear that?" he whispered.

you stayed still, listening, trying to figure out if it was just the house settling. but then it happened again, louder this time. a small creak of wood. it sounded like… steps.

oscar was now wide awake, heart racing. “please tell me that’s not the doll.” he whispered, voice shaking.

you swallowed hard, your earlier bravado fading. “it couldn’t be.”

both of you slowly got up, creeping into the living room. as you approached, the doll was sitting in the chair again—but its head was turned toward the door. the same direction you and oscar had just come from. you froze, your stomach dropping.

oscar's voice was barely a whisper. “nope. i’m done. this is actually haunted.”

you could barely breathe as you stepped closer, but something felt off. something wasn’t right.

and then, in an instant, the doll’s head jerked to the side. a loud creak echoed through the room as it turned to face both of you fully.

oscar went pale, his voice cracking. “y/n… i think your little prank backfired.”

before you could react, oscar practically bolted for the door, yelling, "i’m not sleeping here tonight! i’ll take my chances with the cold!"

you stood there, dumbfounded, looking between him and the doll. your heart raced as you realized you had been pranking yourself just as much as him.

“uh, yeah,” you muttered to yourself, stepping backward. “maybe we should call it quits on this haunted doll thing.”

but oscar didn’t even hear you. he was already out the door and halfway down the hallway. all you could do was look at the doll, now facing the front door with a strangely satisfied expression.

“looks like you got me back,” you sighed, glancing at the doll’s unblinking eyes.

and for the first time since buying it, you had second thoughts about having it around at all.

you took a deep breath, trying to shake off the dread creeping up your spine. oscar’s panicked face flashed in your mind, and you realized you’d gone way too far.

you looked at the doll, still in the chair, and muttered to yourself, “i think i’m calling someone tomorrow.”

oscar, hearing your voice behind him, turned back toward you from the hallway. “what?”

“i’m calling someone who deals with these haunted… things,” you said, crossing your arms and trying to look confident despite the unease settling in your chest. “someone who knows how to get rid of it without… angering it, or whatever.”

oscar stared at you for a moment before his eyes widened. “you’re seriously going to call someone? now?”

“i don’t think this is a joke anymore, oscar,” you replied, glancing back at the doll. “i’m getting rid of it tomorrow. trust me. i’ll handle it.”

oscar didn’t look convinced, but his relief was palpable. “good,” he muttered. “i’m sleeping at a hotel tonight.”

you watched him disappear down the hall, before turning back to the doll. “guess we’ve both learned our lesson, huh?” you said quietly, the weight of the situation finally hitting you.

tomorrow, you’d be dealing with the haunted doll… but for tonight, you figured it was better to stay far, far away.

© 2024 jungwnies | All rights reserved. Do not repost, plagiarize, or translate

[hannieehaee]

Hey I love your fics thank you for your hard work 💗🎀✨ I have a fic request if you can do this........ Idol jun is FWB with co worker of same company but because of his schedules they can't meet eo. So they fuck eo in lift....

18+ / mdi

content: idol!jun x idol!reader, fwb dynamic, semi-public sex, friendly banter, afab reader, smut, fingering, kissing, penetrative sex, etc.

wc: 953

a/n: i decided to go for idols in the same company bc thats fun for some reason<3 anyways so sorry i took literal months for get to this!!

masterlist

"you've got to stop doing this," you mumbled in between kisses, hands on his chest to keep him pressed up against the wall.

"me? you're the one who has me pinned," he argued back, not at all fighting back against his current position.

"may i remind you of last week when you had me bent over the couch in an empty office?"

god, even thinking about it had you wanting to drag him over to your apartment, damning any other schedule you had left for the day.

but no, this tiny window of time was the only part of the day in which you could see each other these days. well, see each other in this way. working within the same company, you actually saw jun more than you even saw your own family.

"don't remind me," he groaned, "wanted to take you home after that."

at least the feeling was mutual.

throughout your back and forth, the touches never ceased, and neither did the kissing. maybe you should've been more worried about being caught in the elevator, but to be fair, this one was only used my maintenance, who did not show up on weekdays. you were most likely safe from any intruders.

"well, you can't take me home. i'm mid comeback, i cant even see my home," you mumbled, hands unbuttoning his shirt.

"why are you getting me undressed if we have no time, then?"

"want a nice view. now shut it, moon," you grumbled, letting your hands feel up his sculpted chest.

he chuckled, but he mirrored your sentiment as he lifted up your tank top, giving himself the perfect view of your bra-less chest.

"fuck. no bra? at work?"

"all i have is fixing up some vocals and dance practice for today. didn't seem necessary," you replied as you kissed at his neck, "plus, i was expecting this."

"oh, so it's for my benefit?" his eyes and hands were glued to your tits, so yes.

you didn't dignify that with a response, instead moving onto his trousers, unbuckling them loose enough to get his dick out of his boxers and onto your needy hands. working him into full hardness wasnt hard. all it usually took was some lubrication from his precum and a few heavy kisses, both which you were already on.

"hmph, baby, c'mon, against the wall," his large hands moved you, taking your hold away from his dick and placing you against the wall, back facing him.

you knew what was coming, so you let your ass stick out a bit, wiggling it teasingly to dare him to move on with it. the response you got was a groan and a hand sneaking between you and the wall to pinch at your nipple in defiance.

what followed after that was even more ruffling of clothes, leaving your lower half uncovered and ready for him.

"god, i love taking you like this. are you wet enough, baby?" he asked despite checking for himself a mere seconds later, finding the wetness between your legs dripping down the inside of your thighs, "fuck, all this from kissing?"

you could hear the smugness in his voice, but you chose to ignore it. it was true, you were feeling incredibly needy and sensitive. all you wanted right now was for him to be inside you. so you did what you knew he wanted from you.

you begged.

"please, junnie ... need it so bad."

he nosed at your ear, kissing at it before finally entering you, groaning directly into your ear at the tightness surrounding him.

"god, how are you this tight every fucking time," he sighed out, "so fucking good for me."

then the senseless slapping of skin began, his hips canting against your ass as you used your weakened arms to hold yourself up against the wall. the position was slightly uncomfortable, but the feeling of jun filling you up so perfectly distracted you from any discomfort.

"f-faster, junnie," you pleaded.

and as per usual, your wish was his command. his hips sped up, just as his fervor doubled. the time crunch added to the shared desperation, creating a disgusting harmony of muffled moans and sweaty skin slapping in the small elevator.

jun's hand made its way away from your hip and found a place in your front, long fingers squeezing and circling at your swollen clit. your eyebrows furrowed, and you had to bite your hand to avoid the scream you wanted to let out. jun sensed it and chuckled breathlessly into your hair, to which you responded by squeezing around him.

your battle to make the other cum came to a crescendo almost simultaneously. it was you who lost this round, choking on hiccuped moans as your high invaded your body.

"god, baby, that's so fucking tight. gonna cum too, shit. take it for me, yeah?"

and that's how he filled you up, hips never giving up until he gave you his very last drop.

when he pulled out, you turned around again, only to be caught in another heavy kiss. the two of you indulged in it for a bit before your phone began ringing, making a groan separate you.

"it's probably my manager," you sighed, ignoring the call, "i have to go. i need to stop by the bathroom to clean up the mess you left in me," you feigned annoyance as you made quick work of fixing your clothes.

"you literally asked for it."

true, but complaining was still fun.

you helped him get dressed too, giving him one last peck as a goodbye before peeking outside for any passerby's.

"we're in the clear," you turned to him, "tomorrow, same time?"

he chucked, "i'll be waiting."

[sugar-omi]

Before I say anything else, I swear to god I’m not a purist or one of those weirdos who value virginity or think premarital sex is wrong

BUT do you think Rockstar Cove would feel bad (not exactly guilty, unless you like him pathetic like that like I do, but more like regret) about being a hoe before meeting MC? Like yeah he fucked around a lot for fun but now he knows none of it could measure up to doing it with MC, who he would literally move heaven and earth and kill his lifelong dream for and his first time would’ve been so different if it was with the one he loved

Bonus if MC is a virgin because I think that would definitely make him feel guilty for not “waiting” for them and not “giving” them his first time (again, not for religious reasons or anything, just because of emotional intimacy)

I love torturing him and wanna see him in distress hahaha 😈

first of all- SAME. i feel like, i might come across as religious sometimes, all imma say is dont ask me SHIT abt the bible or religion or anything. i fell asleep every time i went to chruch and god is SICK of me using his name in my filthy smut fics, i know it

BUT OMG YES. this this this...

i like to imagine he doesn't sleep around too much, he needs a bit of a connection for that, plus he's a celebrity so he can't sleep around nearly as much unless he's trying to get a fan pregnant or get a new stalker. so his body count isn't through the roof, but it certainly isn't low...

but he is at the very least a flirt. he'll flirt with you up and down the street, maybe even eat you out/suck you off, and if you're really lucky, get your back blown the fuck out.

when he meets MC though... all of that is over the second you make eye contact. he's obsessed with you, cant get you out of his head and he needs to see you again, needs to hear your voice and your laugh... he's totally done for, all he wants is you now and he's never felt like that before...

doesn't really know how to act because he hasn't been a long-term or one-person man until now but he absolutely cannot let you go.

if you've never been in a relationship before, it's been awhile since your last date, or only in one or two relationships that were more or less serious, he's anxious about being perfect for you.

he doesn't wanna scare you off, as if his fame and public image isn't bad enough.

oh my god if he learns you're a virgin though... he's dead. his heart has stopped...

immediately asks if you're serious, and what the fuck, and now he's worried you won't wanna have sex with him, would you trust him to take your v-card? has he slept with too many people for you to be comfortable with sleeping with him? is or would he be taking advantage of you? what if you hate having sex with him?

he's spiraling. he's thinking too many thoughts and its up to you to bring him down and tell him that you trust him, you wanna have sex with him and you are sure you won't hate it.

omg when he tells you how he wishes he could've given you his virginity, that he wishes he waited for you. you have to laugh, he's so silly... because how was he supposed to know that he was gonna meet the love of his life? if he knew, would he have believed it and waited or laughed and went about his business?

when you do finally decide to have sex... cove goes the full 9 yards, takes you on a lovely vacation, buys you anything and everything you look at twice, gets the most expensive hotel room he can find and spoils you absolutely rotten.

has the lights down low, candles lit and flickering gently along the absurdly luxurious room and he takes care of you.. slowly undressing you, kissing every inch of skin and whispering sweet nothings.

pulls you apart with his tongue again and again until you're weak and trembling, begging him to hurry up and just move onto the good part...

he doesn't fuck you, he makes love to you. it's all so sweet and intimate that even he can't help but feel like it's his first time again, his heart beating nervously and he's a bit shaky, moving automatically in ways he knows from experience.

he would cry, he has his arms around you, hardly moving his hips in a way that's satisfying to your long aching body because he's so intent on being gentle with you, treasuring you and tending to you...

cries and tells you how much he loves you, how much he treasures you and that he'll take care of you forever. that you're his soulmate, begs you drunkenly not to leave him and be his forever, to stay with him and love him and let him love you and spoil you. that he'll give you everything he has, materially, mind, body, and soul, everything is yours.

he promises that you're the only one for him now, that no one else will or could ever take your place and that he's always going to be yours in the end.

if this is what your first time is like.. jesus fucking christ, imagine him proposing to you.

[bordysbae]

Could you do aftermath of quinn or luke getting their wisdom teeth out?

“how are you real?”

quinn hughes x reader

“y/n, are you sure you’re alright to take him home after getting his wisdom teeth out? i totally forgot i had plans when i scheduled his appointment.” ellen asks you over the phone. originally you were going to come over and help out at the house after his surgery, but ellen ended up needing you to take him home as well.

“of course elle! i don’t mind at all. what time is his surgery over?” you ask, grabbing your wallet and keys from your desk.

“his surgery is done in about half an hour. do you mind coming to the dentist office now?” “not at all, see you soon!” you say and hang up. you head to your car and begin driving to the place ellen told you to. when you walk inside you see ellen in the waiting area, and sit down next to her.

“oh y/n hi darling! perfect timing! thank you so much, i need to get going but they’ll come get you when quinn is done.” “alright!” you smile and wave her off as she leaves. about fifteen minutes later the nurse comes to get you, and you follow her into a small room towards the back. when you walk in you see quinn with his mouth wide open staring into space.

“quinn, hi baby!” you say, grabbing his attention. suddenly he gasps loudly, “how are you real?” he asks you, making both you and the nurse laugh. “what? what do you mean?” you ask, unaware of what he was trying to say.

“you’re so pretty, there’s no way you’re real!” he smiles at you, very much loopy from the drugs given to him. “aww quinny!” you blush, as you walk over to kiss the top of his head.“call me quinny again. i like when you call me that”

“oh you’re so loopy quinn” you laugh to yourself. suddenly quinn makes an angry expression instead of the happy one he had just a minute ago. “don’t call me that!” he yells. “shhh quinny shh you have to be quiet” you say, using a hand gesture to tell him to lower his voice.

“only cause you called me quinny” he pouts and crosses his arms across his chest. as the nurse is finishing up paperwork you sit with quinn to keep him company. he then begins to start pushing the gauze out of his mouth with his tongue, which he was instructed not to do.

“babe you have to keep that in your mouth!” you say, rushing to help him put it back in his mouth despite how gross it is. “oh my god y/n! my tongue fell off! you took my tongue! i cant feel it!” he says as he starts patting his tongue with his index and middle finger.

“quinn you have your tongue i promise, now be quiet we have to listen to the nurse okay?”

“you’re trying to tell me to shut up!”

“this is gonna be a long day” you groan and rub your hands across your face. the nurse gives you instructions on how to take care of him for the next few days, and sends you both on your way.

getting quinn in the car was a hassle in itself, but driving home with him was worse. he’s sat in your passenger seat playing with all of the little buttons and knobs on the dash. he discovers the fan button and the air starts blowing on his face, making him very giggly. “what’s so funny?” you look at him as you pull up to a red light.

“the air is tickling me!” he laughs to himself still touching buttons. “why don’t you try and sleep for a bit. you need to rest when we get yo your house anyways” you suggest

“no!” he says, acting like a toddler. you roll your eyes and groan. who knew your boyfriend being doped up would be such a pain? eventually you guys make it to the hughes household, and you help quinn get out of the car. you lead him to the front door where his youngest brother luke helps you lead him upstairs to his bedroom.

“how is he doing?” luke asks you. “he’s literally crazy” you groan, making luke laugh.

“well, as much as you’re gonna hate me for this. i have plans in fifteen minutes soooo…” he drags out the o sound, forcing you to finish his sentence for him. “i’m alone to deal with quinn aren’t i?”

“possibly..” luke grins, making you playfully his his shoulder. before either of you can get a word out, quinn opens his bedroom door and starts walking down the stairs. “quinn, babe you need to be in bed resting!” you exclaim.

“but i don’t wanna rest! you aren’t in bed with me i cant sleep!” he cries out. you chuckle and walk up the stairs towards quinn. you then begin to lead him back to his bedroom, “i’ll come lay with you okay? you need to sleep”

“only if you’re with me” he pouts. “i like this side of you, you’re so clingy” you say as you close his bedroom door.

“you guys are you disgusting!” luke shouts, making you start laughing.

“are you laughing at me?” quinn asks as he crawls into his bed.

“please just go to sleep” you huff.

[softhairedhotch]

DUDEEEE HELLO??:!:!::&: PLEASE I LOVE YOU, YOUR WONDERFUL BRAIN N UR RESPONSES???!! like sometimes i think damn my thoughts r sooooo filthy i wonder if anyone would even feel the same like am i crazy :-///.... THEN UR REPLIES JUST FUELS ME EVEN MORE ARGHRHHHHH LIKE??? im so glad we have the same brain like damn... i love talking abt him hehe rly.. thank u for entertaining my thoughts n making it even more amazing <333 also i hope u are feeling better now!!! 🫂🫂 tbh i feel the same bc the idea of aaron has made me feel better so many times n it's years since i started liking him :-(((( fr i never ever regret starting this show n falling in love w him 😭😭😭

"imagine just sitting there with him fully inside you, tie in your mouth, head on his broad shoulder, one of his big warm hands occasionally rubbing up and down your back as you hear the other write away" ‼️‼️‼️ PLEASEEEE omfg he'd feel so good and he'd make you feel sooooo safe 😭😭😭 i need this so badly . being on his lap would literally make all the painful noisy thoughts in your head go silent because all you can think about and feel is him <3333 though i don't know how i'd be able actually to be quiet n not be reduced into a whimpering mess because GODDDDDD HE'S JUST SOOOO..... my god. if u do turn this into a fic i'd probably be reading it 9784953 times n manifesting it to appear in my dreams 🙏🙏

and OOOOOFFFFFFFFF cannot decide if i would want him to make a mess all over me and use his thick fingers to scoop it up and shove it into my mouth or have him cum deep in my throat ! 😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫 like man.... the idea of messy wet sex drives me insane like having him a panting sweaty mess 🧎‍♂️🧎‍♂️ n downright filthy cum eating . like my thoughts abt it are ENDLESS n its literally a can of worms im afraid of opening-- AWOEKFJFKEKD thinking abt that episode when aaron jumps into a lake to chase an unsub n he comes out of the water all WET N THE WATER DRIPPING DOWN HIS SKIN??? I CANT REMEMBER WHAT EPISODE IT IS BUT I THINK U KNKW WHAT IM REFERRING TO???

omfggggg when he's ruthlessly riding you and jerking himself off, his chest would get soooo red and it'll feel soo nice to run your fingers down his body and literally worship every inch of him 😵‍💫 he'd look soooo pretty with little marks over his chest as you shower him with praises... thinking about praising aaron HEEEEHEHEH he'd get sooo shy n flustered the first few times but slowly he'd get used to it and literally bask in the attention n praises 😭😭

my god n i must say u rly perfected his voice n what he would say......i swear my love for aaron not only solidified my kink for suits but also... voice 😵‍💫😵‍💫🧎‍♂️🧎‍♂️🧎‍♂️ like it makes me think how he'd react the first time when he realised how much power he has over you just from his voice and words alone.... like first he'd be confused why your reaction sometimes gets a lil funny but then his expression darkens when finally he realises. but he likes building up material to tease you later on so he doesn't really point it out at first but just has an amused smile.

then imagine one night being on a phone call with him as he just talks about his day and that it's pretty late at night so his voice starts getting huskier bc he's tired.... and he's just rambling about something unrelated but you feel the heat crawling up your neck because he just sounds so good . you can't help but clench your thighs and swallow your saliva. then he asks you a question but you're SO distracted that you miss it and when you finally answer him, your voice shakes. he goes silent before breaking into a low laugh because he recognises that tone of voice and picks up your breathing. "oh my, baby... i don't even need to see your face to know what's up. here am i trying to tell you about my day... but you just can't help yourself, hm? ...pathetic."

YEAHHHHHH 😭😭😭😭

- 🤲

AHHHHHHHHHH SDJFHSJDF THANK YOU hehehehehe n YEAH I GETCHA, I BE THINKING "oh GOD what if what i say is too weird???" n then you get back to me with basically the SAME THING AHHHHH i'm sooo happy we be thinking the same thoughts LMAO. and thank you sm <33

YESSSSS HE'D MAKE YOU FEEL SO SAFE FR <333 i wanna sit on his lap soooo so so much, god it'd be so good. i would love to write it as a fic tbh but i just have sooooo much to work on already UGHHH why is writing so hard and time-consumingggggg

REALLLLL I WANT BOTH !!! n oPEN THAT CAN OF WORMS RN CUM EATING IS SOOOOOOOO HOT I SWEAR DDSKFSK AHHHHH AND YES YES YE S I KNOW EXACTLY WHAT SCENE YOU'RE REFERENCING

OUGHHH HE'S SO BEAUTIFUL FUCKKK

yessss he'd looook so pretty riding youuu <33 all red and sweaty and a whimpering panting mess oughhh i love it i love him sm n yessssss i wanna praise him sooo bad. like if you praised him he just WOULDN'T KNOW WHAT TO DO but then as he gets used to it, he loooooves it and craves it ough

hehe thank you!! N YEAH VOICE KINK AND SUIT KINK GO BRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR 🤭🤭 he'd get sooooo cocky knowing he has sm control over you oughhh and he'd be so proud of himself knowing he can get you to do almost anything with just his voice n pretty face

STOPPPP I'VE HAD THE EXACT SAME IDEA AND STARTED IT AS A FIC ONCE BUT NEVER GOT AROUND TO IT KSDFJK i loooooooove the idea of calling him on a case and he's just like. tired but tryna talk n his voice is sooooo deep and gravelly and it sounds so hot (bc sleepy/morning voices might be one of the best things in existence <33) and he notices you trailing off your sentences and stuttering a bit and going quiet and he just KNOWS what he's doing to you and he teases you relentlessly <33 he'd either get you all hot and bothered n then tell you that you gotta be patient and wait til he gets home orrrrrr he'll go "do you think you can show me how much of an effect i have on you, sweetheart?" and when you send him a pic he'd hum in appreciation and tell you how pretty/handsome you are and how he's gonna make you feel real good when he gets home but for now he's gonna talk you through making yourself feel good <33 maybe you can hear him letting out cute lil moans as he tells you how he wants you to touch yourself and your stomach drops when you realise he's getting off on it too and you ask him to send a pic of himself and he does and he looks sooooo good <33

also i gotta ask,,, how do you feel about daddy kinks LMAOOO bc i haven't thought about it much relating to aaron lately tbh but when i first got into him two years ago, all i could think was him saying stuff like "let daddy make you feel good, hm?" or "you wanna touch daddy?" n stuff like that,, are you into that?? i'm leaning more toward softer aaron n bottom aaron lately but godddd soft daddy dom aaron is soooooooo <333

[moonrisecoeur]

i have been. debating sending this bc i know i am cringe. op i am so sorry feel free to ignore and delete bc this is just actual pure filth lmfaooo

op i literally think about pegging leon 24/7 its a full time JOB inside my brain i need to peg that man so fucking Bad its not even funny. i know hes so fucking Noisy. i wanna make him beg for my strap, i wanna fucking edge him until hes begging and crying to be fucking ruined. i wanna pretty him up, put eyeliner on him so i can make it run down his face from fucking him so hard. i wanna mark up his neck and pull his hair while i pulverize him. i wanna tell him hes taking it so well and how hes such a good boy, how pretty he looks bent over for me while i fuck his cute ass. i want him to hug me while i praise him bc hes so overwhelmed. tell him how hot it is hearing him moan and whine, encourage him to make as much noise as he wants, itd be cute to watch him try to not pillow bite because hes trying sooo hard to do what you want like a good boy. i want him to be borderline Incomprehensible, voice shaking and cracking as he tells me how much he loves me, how much he loves the way i make him feel. i wanna make him cum untouched. i wanna overstimulate him. i wanna grope his fat tits and milk his dick. i wanna make him watch himself getting fucked. put him in a collar, lingerie, fuck anything-hed be gorgeous no matter what he wears. shower him in kisses and affection and make him feel the most loved he has in his entire LIFE while short circuiting his brain n marking him with bites and bruises for everyone to see.

re2 leon is my fave man he has my heart and god id love to just take care of him. after a long shift i wanna slam him against the door and fuck him while hes still in uniform. make him feel so good. such a whiny cutie. cuff him up and bite his freckles while i fuck him late into the night, clean him up and cuddle him after, make him breakfast in the morning n give him kisses.

re4/re6/older leon is a subby bitch too. just as god damn fine and id do oh so horrific things to him. hed love it so much, not having to think, make decisions, take charge. just let me whatever i want to him. hed get off so hard being under you and told how fucking good, pretty, perfect he is. he needs your approval so fucking bad-its all that poor man wants, god he needs it so BAD. he needs to feel safe and loved and wanted, like this is Critical. id make SURE i fuck him so good he cant even think about his insecurities or problems. and dear fucking lord do not get me started on that slutty waist and button down of his in re6. he's keeping the gloves on while i press his hands into the mattress and bite his arms.

its so fucking funny bc i hc leon as a switch BUT GODDDDD SUBBY LEON MAKES ME FUCKING FOAM AT THE MOUTH LIKE A RABID, FERAL ANIMAL

its not a want it is a NEED

I NEED THIS MAN UNDER ME I NEED TO REARRANGE HIS GUTS !!!!!!!!!!!!

guhhh last anon again but now i really cant stop thinkin about sub leon. legit i have so much more to say i just love him so much. theres so much. More. i wanna say but lord. im trying so hard to be normal man 😭😭

first off. hi. hope u had a yummy thanksgiving if u celebrate it and if not i also hope ur having a good day !!

ALSO WTF WHY WOULD I DELETE THIS i literally woke up this morning and checked my tumblr notifs as one does and i literally see this behemoth of an ask and im reading through and im literally screaming bc why is this my internal monologue. like. did u get inside my head or something??? did u steal this from my brain bc i literally think about this approximately 1000 times a day.

i’ll literally be at work and my thoughts be like ughhh i wanna hurt him and make him cry but also want to love him and take care of him but also want to fuck him so so slow and deep i can feel it moving around if i put on hand on his abdomen and then i just spiral and then i remember im making a fuckin caramel macchiato or something >.<

so!! in spirit of our delusion i’m planning to write smthin for u based off of this vibe!! just give me a lil bit 👉👈

BUT TELL ME EVERYTHING TELL ME ALL UR THOUGHTS I WANT TO HEAR THEM ALL I WANT TO KNOWWWW ‘i have so much more to say’ okay prove it. tell me everything

[birdy-bird27]

my live thoughts while reading new chapter of fury of a shattered mirror

@volivolition tagging u so when you do get to read the chapter you could have my thoughts abt it 👍

Love the echem and volition head butting at the begining

NOOO hes stuck in the loop again thank you interface resetting it

Finally the gun is back hand eye cordination your long search is over

INLAND EMPIRE [Challenging: Success] - Don't jump to conclusions now. Every object has a rich inner world, this little number included. This is why i love you so much inland empire

So many hints about the revolution throughout these chapters i am quite worried abt harry when he does make it home

Another pointless piece of junk?

I shouldn't be surprised. This is very 'you', isn't it?

EMPATHY [Medium: Success] - There is not a single mote of joviality in her tone. Only rage and condemnation.

PAIN THRESHOLD [Challenging: Success] - This tone strikes a chord somewhere deep inside your brain.

Ough i felt that morale pain too 

God i love how the princess is always such a good parallel to harry its so poetic. She is trying to self destruct she doesnt know anything else 

Half light fighting for the gun of course they end up wasting the bullet this is freaking tense literally at the edge of my seat

I love the consistent offering the flask oughh

VOICE OF THE HERO - She... well, she is a monster in some ways. But she's not all bad. She doesn't seem evil, just impossibly stubborn. Like you in a lot of ways. 

So true voice of the hero thats what ive been saying

Oh no panic attack time for poor Harry (though guiltily i must say these are my favorite parts)

Hero i fucking love youuuu oughghghh my heart you are so kind 

Esprit de corps your back finally ough 

ESPRIT DE CORPS - Manning the radio booth, same as always. But...

There's nothing but static now. All lines are dead, and remain dead.

You are alone.

this one it makes sense why he couldn't be active

Side note but im listening to the disco elysium soundtrack while reading and I got to precinct 41 major crimes unit as soon as he found his gun loaded and the timing of the music is so perfect for the mood

I enjoy how inland empire and shivers always interact with one another other worldly friends

You already ripped out my heart.

PAIN THRESHOLD - All the pain she can't experience -- it's all being turned back on *you*.

And that wasn't enough. Nothing you do will ever be enough.

OWWWWW I cant

Ougghhhhh the ending with echem idk why it just felt really bitter sweet yes he got to get that rush but idk felt too real

Another amazing chapter this one was intense all of them are intense i love this fic so much every time it makes me want to replay both games

[iliveforyouilongforyouvesuvia]

oh god you have foolishly provided me a chance to dump the contains of my soul and heart out in the open through throwing all my favorite songs to listen to and think of Muriel at you in this essay i WILL

ok first i know its on his official playlist already BUT i feel a need to emphasize just how much it is ABsoLUTEly HIS song most of any of them: drumroll please::: 👏Wolf👏 by 👏First Aid Kit👏 any muriel simp reading this right now i am pounding you with my brainwaves of intent to go listen to it Right Now and Read those Lyrics and just try to tell me its not literally about him god if could draw id be doing such a cool animatic about it but alas it dies with me anyway WAYWARD WINDS!!! A VOICE THAT SINGS!!!! OF A!! FORGOTTEN!!!! LAND!!!!!!! SEE IT FALL!!!! CHILD OF WAR!!!! OH LEND!!!! A MENDING HAND!!!!!!!!!!! i believe ive made myself clear kbgxkyhfhkvd

https://youtu.be/6PmuuiXgIZE

i dont know if links work on anon but i had to try gjzghfdtomfg our wedding song straight up this is in my language and also like. about a girl but the words are easy to switch around so it fits lol it basically just goes like "you just had to know (to do something? like in a you know how to work me way lmao linguistics hard), that i cant forget you at all/i forgot my mother and father/my sister and my brother but i cant goshdarn forget you" and i dont know i probably cant translate that so it hits right but god its absolutely perfect to me cause like I DIDNT! FORGET HIM!! MC REMEMBERS HIM AT LEAST A LITTLE BIT!!!! EVEN WITH THE CURSE I DONT KNOW LET ME HAVE THIS ITS TOO GD ROMANTIC I CANT BELIEVE HE GOT ME ACTING LIKE THIS AGHGF im sorry for yelling i got excited

NEXT a classic we gotta pepper some hozier on this thing so here goes Nothing Fucks With My Baby cause thats my ultimate serenade for him in my head especially the "if i was born/as a blackthorn tree/id wanna be held by you/felled by you/fuel the pyre of your enemies" part as it perfectly describes my sentiments towards my man: hes my bby i will kill for him👁️👁️

theres Always Forever by Cults, i dont have that much to rant about it i just always think of him when i play it lol theres hozier again It Will Come Back which is on his official playlist too but i play around with perspectives in this one cause i put myself in the "it" position, like. im chasing here bro👀 oh my god i have got to shut up this is entirely tmi

https://youtu.be/mLycEitwJCA

i made a whole post about this one its a whole thing lmao long story short muriel on a murderous revenge quest au MOVING ON

OH i remembered another folky one

https://youtu.be/NrgwIo8GWDI

its SUCH a banger and i love it and it goes like i saw a Wolf a Fox a Rabbit so i just imprinted on it with Muriel Asra and MC respectively cause i dont know i had a phase where i decided mcs spirit animal is a rabbit cause of that scrapped introduction chapter with the labyrinth thing i guess idk im scrambling here ngfsfugc anyway it slaps listen to it and imagine a bangin tavern party and maybe youll calm down /meme

ohh ok we're on a folksy roll thats probably because i just mostly associate old timey sounding songs with arcana in general lmao i mean its like middle ages over there right

https://youtu.be/t9PUlNQOZ8o

this ones in my language again i know annoying but i found a translated version look!!! AND theres a bunch of people correcting the mistakes in the comments too if you were wanting to get deeper into research hkdggjyecb and its white voice style so depending on your taste it might sound silly but yeah this ones got some fitting lines too tying up with Murmur and its so cute and so cheesy and hopeful and sappy and it cheers me up aw

oh my god i wonder if anyone gets this far reading this ever if youre seeing this its probably during a scroll roll slow just enough to make out the letters Hello godspeed you continue on your journey with my blessings cause im noT EVEN DONE YET HAHAHAHAHAA

Motha Motha! Problems! nuff said

https://youtu.be/artn9fErRp8

this ones gonna take explaining gjxgkhpgz but maybe not that much

https://youtu.be/_h9V94b4R2g

i just had a eureka moment one day and so another animatic concept to take to my grave was born lmao but mostly its just playing into Muriels & MCs "nO i cOULd hUrt YoU Go aWaY" + "ayo hold my flower ima kill them real quick" dynamic theyve got heehee like the whole "~Dangerous~ ooh that sounds good ya" bit and also yes im in your house no im not leaving jgdghkfhgd and like i just imagined the song fitting the vibe of the whole murder lucio quest road trip with MC all "yo we Getting this shit DONE dont fuck around w my crew" (The Crew: feral milf & bear with anxiety) AND LIKE i always get to the "party like we all gon die tonight" basedrop part with the whole visual montage of us finding khamgalai and then the graveyard fight and Absolutely Everything Going to Shit and the mood shifting to "well fuck maybe we do not in fact got this" but its good we kick lucio all the way to hell at the end we good💕

https://youtu.be/ZxWiG6UJr0w

MMMMMMM THIS ONEE AWW im literally just scrolling through my endless unsorted playlist to find these gdiyyfgfz this ones just cute it doesnt really relate to anything at all actually when i think about it but its nice so here

https://youtu.be/6FEDrU85FLE

.....nope i got nothing on this one just plop it right in here

oh my god. its over. weve done it. we're free

man i hope those links work. definitely not on mobile lol whatever

Hi! and oh, WOW, this was one of the most delightfully wild essays I've ever read for Muriel and I loved it. Especially describing the dynamic on the trip south as "feral milf & bear with anxiety" XD

I've found that links don't work in asks, even with the media option turned on, so I'll include them below. Thanks for your suggestions, anon, I'll put them on the tag! ^.^

[daphnebowen]

percy jackson and the olympians tv show episode 1 thoughts

finally have gotten around to writing all my thoughts down from the premiere episodes! in honor of the third episode streaming tonight, we’ll say.

beware. lots of screaming, fangirling, and nonsensical English recorded below. (Also spoilers, altho if you haven’t seen it already… who are you??)

(also I’m basically just copying these word for word. These are my real reaction. Continue at your own risk)

I already mentioned this in another post but the way I was fangirling throughout the entire introductory monologue as it was word for word accurate (I was shaking the whole couch lmao)

baby Percy is LITERALLY Walker

BLACKJACK AHHHH

grover is 💋 *chefs kiss*

WALKER IS SUCH A CUTIE he is going to be a heartbreaker in a couple of years

sally is perfect, I will protect her with my entire being 🫶🏼

I wanna hear snappy sassy Percy - oh there he is “no, I was thinking I want to shove Nancy in the nearest dumpster” THATS MY BOY (no joke that’s exactly what happened I thought “where is my sarcastic child” and then he said that and I died laughing)

THE PEN THE PEN RIPTIDE OMG OMG AHH

alecto is creepy as FREAK and exactly how I pictured her lol

HE STABBED HER YES PERCY YES although it looked kind of like an accident HAHAH

GROVER WHAT ARE YOU DOINGGGG RATTING OUT PERCY LIKE THAT OMG that didn’t happen in the books did it?? I get why Grover did what he did, he’s getting Percy out of there to protect him, since that’s his job. But in all honesty, Nancy’s bullying went on a lot longer than Percy’s one time shove, so if he’s getting expelled for that Nancy should get punished for all her bullying!! don’t they have a no tolerance bullying policy or is that another school??

DUDE. DUUUUUDE. DUUUUUUUUUDDDEEEE!!!!! “logical” by the one and only freaking olivia rodrigo??? absolutely perfect for this moment! The whole song basically describes Gabe and Sally’s relationship!! I freaking love it

i hate gabe

percys mom is such a baddie I LOVE HER

i hate gabe

percy is SO CONFUSED right now but u love it because it’s basically canon that Percy is eternally confused about everything and he just rolls with it, like it’s a well known fact

THE CAPTIONS ARE FAILING ME WHO IS THE VOICE THATS NOT CREEPY AT ALL is it Kronos is it hades is it ares is it Zeus is if Luke PERCY HAS A LOT OF ENEMIES!!!

percy and sally racing inside is so cute

”you fell in love with god?” “Like- like Jesus?” KH MY GOSH I CANT HES TOO PRECIOUS

”Grover why is there half a goat in your pants?!” iconic. just, iconic. And his little voice crack too! 🫶🏼

Percy is so pissed at his mom lol she’s not telling him NOTHIN

The way Grover nonchalantly dropped the “I’m actually 24” bomb and Percy was just like “exCUSE me?!” and then moved on

bro that car accident was so scary and the way sally reached for Percy’s hand 🫣

THALIAS TREE ‼️‼️‼️

sally is the freaking best

the scene where everyone thinks she dies is absolute perfection AND THE WAY HE PULLS OUT THE SWIRD GO GET EM PERCY GO GET EM

“He must be the one” yes yes he is Annabeth yes he is

final thoughts: dude, that episode was the literal first episode of the first season and it’s already perfection. I’m in love with the characters, the action, actually seeing what I’ve imagined in my head for so long. and I’m falling in love with the storyline as if it’s for the first time all over again and it’s amazing and I absolutely love it.

there we go lol

[sasha-whos-askin-racket]

TREASON LIVEBLOG SINCE LIGHTING THE FUSE JUST DROPPED

When Will I See You Again - ARE WE STARTING WITH MARTHA???? - WE’RE STARTING WITH MARTHA. - I DONT KNOW WHATS HAPPENING IM SO LOST ARE THESE IN NARRATIVE ORDER?  - carrie sounds absolutely fantastic, 100%, absolutely gorgeous. - “then i will go from your grave” is this about thomas? i haven’t looked enough at martha historically, i’m not all that interested in her but this might be about thomas?? in which case, confusion and intrigue.  - BRADLEY??? SIR???? YOU SOUND GORGEOUS OH MY GODDDD.

The Wedding -  "BEFORE WE MET I WAS A TROUBLED MAN" NO I CANT BAWL OVER THOMAS ALREADY - immediately so glad this isn’t Oliver Savile as Thomas still because I’d already be sobbing by now if it was. - OH GOD MARTHA AND THOMAS’S WEDDING I CANT DO THIS, I GET SAD ENOUGH ABOUT THOMAS AS IT IS - “AND NOW IM PROUD TO BE YOUR WIFE” I CANNOT DO IT - OH NO NOT IT BEING HAPPY, OH NO PLEASE, OH GOD THEY HAVE NO IDEA WHATS COMING -  "we will endure the storm together" NO YOU WILL NOT BESTIE The Catholic Problem - Ohhh this is a new voice, hello. I have no idea who this is. Narrator? Do we have a narrator?  - Guys we might have a narrator.  - Sorry I am absolutely obsessed with how much this song feels like an allegory for queerness.

All We Dreamed And More - assuming this song will be much the same as the version on the album- OH NEW LYRICS - NEW LYRICS GUYS, STAY CALM, NEW LYRICS. NEW LYRICS. - nO THEY TOOK OUT THE VERSE ABOUT JAMES???? WHY WOULD THEY DO THAT??? - okay they’re making me sad about thomas can we just have the- OH OKAY THEY KEPT THE JAMES VERSE THEY JUST MOVED IT FURTHER BACK - holy shit bradley sounds so good, i love this man, i love this man so much, he’s absolutely killing it. - OH HARMONIES OH THE TEMPO IS PICKING UP, OH WE HAVE INSTRUMENTS OH THIS IS AWESOME - oh shit yeah course because the other one was an acoustic version, right? oh the little triumphant instrumental oh i love this oh im gonna cry - THEYRE ACTUALLY POOR LITTLE MEOW-MEOWING THOMAS WHAT IS GOING ON. - okay really glad they’re making more references to his past, i was literally talking about this with somebody earlier, i’m super happy we’re getting these little references. 

The Promise - Immediately I’m like. This does not sound like Daniel. - It definitely is because you can hear it in the intonation and the accent but I am....not necessarily on board with the character voice? i get what he’s doing but i’m. i can’t say im a fan? maybe i’ll warm up to it. - i was gonna say this version is less camp but actually as we hit the chorus, i think it's just as camp - OH THAT LAUGH HOLY SHIT - OH GOD OKAY THIS MIGHT BE MORE CAMP - oh this is so good. oh bradley you are so good. i am a massive oliver stan first and foremost but bradley is doing a phenomenal job. - HERE WE GO COME ON DANIEL  - i heard that little laugh sir, you didn’t get away with that - NAILED IT. FUCKING NAILED IT. HOLY SHIT. I LOVE THE ENDING TO THIS SONG. AND THE ENUNCIATION AS WELL???? FUCKING PERFECTION.

The Day Elizabeth Died - Okay so I wasn’t a fan of this on the album so we’ll see how we do. - Granted I think that’s because it’s a Thomas-less song so I just wasn’t all that interested. - OOHHH HARMONIES, OKAY. - hmmmm are those the bells from Take Things Into Our Own Hands - IT IS, THATS THE DRUMMING FROM TAKE THINGS INTO OUR OWN HANDS. - yeah that’s so cool, i love that so much. i love that you can hear Take Things Into Our Own Hands building in the background, i’m assuming that’ll be the next song? either way, gorgeous detail.  - is that daniel? little bit of daniel? not sure. can’t tell. 

A United Kingdom - DANIEL SONG. DANIEL SONG. ANOTHER DANIEL SONG. OHHH THERE’S THE END OF THE PROMISE PLAYING IN THE BACKGROUND, OH I LOVE ALL OF THIS. - smh James get your ego in check, there’s more important things right now than being remembered for uniting the nation. - oh i love this. i love daniel. his voice is so good. - i don’t know how i feel about the comedic tone shift? knowing what comes later, i’m unsure. i don’t like it. i guess that’s kind of the point? maybe? - "i said i'd leave the catholics alone. in fact, i sort of...promised" the fact that i can visualise the face he's making - explode? poor choice of words there james.

Burn - Oh narrator again! Hello narrator! - See yeah I’m really not being sold by the continuing tonal whiplash. this feels too hamilton-esque and it doesn’t really fit?  - i’m so confused by this song, there’s so much going on.  - oh hello is this the catholics? trying to pick Bradley’s voice out and struggling. - okay yeah i liked the narrators first song but i’m not on board with this one. it would be really good if it was separate from the other vocal parts but having the two combined in one song is kind of muddling my brain.

Take Things Into Our Own Hands - Immediately i’m excited to see if Bradley gives us that beautiful high note that Oliver does. I know I shouldn’t pit them against each other, but I’ve seen so much of Oliver’s stuff that I know what he basically always brings to a character, and having seen Bradley in only a couple things, I’m excited to see how their versions of Thomas differ. - I like this Catesby. I think this is the first we’ve heard from him all musical so far, he sounds really good. - Okay that was Thomas’s verse but that wasn’t Bradley. I’m fairly certain that wasn’t Bradley.  - OH OKAY THEY JUST CUT OUT THE ENTIRE BUILD-UP AND THE END OF THE SONG. WHY WOULD THEY DO THAT. HELLO???? WHAT.  - absolutely not a fan, i really love the build on the “haaaands” before they split off into their vocal parts and do the harmonies. bring that back. bring that back right now. bradley would have killed that high note, i know he would have. 

The Inevitable - I cried the first time I heard this song. Let’s see how it holds up.  - OH YEAH OKAY RIGHT OFF THE BAT THE VIBES HERE ARE DIFFERENT. - OH THAT LITTLE LAUGH.  - OH THIS IS SO MUCH SADDER.  - OH NO MARTHA ITS OKAY.  - i mean its not okay but its okay.  - GOD THIS IS SO GOOD.  - I have a really strong visual of Thomas during this song and this is kind of adding to it? this version doesn’t feel quite as hopeless? like, there’s an anger here where in the other version it was just, kind of an acceptance? super interested to see how this translates across towards the ending. 

The Plot - Is this Catesby? I think this is Catesby but I’m not 100% - oh i love these vibes, it reminds me of something but i can’t put my finger on what it is - i can’t hear Bradley, where is Bradley, give me Bradley. We want Bradley. We want Bradley. We want Bradley.  - ohhhh. the metronome(?) in the background. - OH NO NOT THE INEVITABLE CREEPING BACK IN. I HAD A FEELING IT WOULD BE USED AGAIN BUT I FIGURED IT WOULD BE DURING THOMAS’S DEATH, NOT THIS EARLY ON. - okay is this bradley? oh yeah that’s bradley. 

A Watchful Eye - OH A SONG ABOUT MARTHA???? - OH NO IS THIS GOING TO BE ABOUT THOMAS. OH NO. OH NO.  - oh this is going to ruin me. oh martha. oh darling martha.  - oh thomas my boy. my darling boy. my (historical) thomas percy fixation started i think a little over a decade ago? its been a long time anyway. i fucking love (fictionalised) thomas percy so much.

Digging Down Deeper - hello narrator!! i missed you!!! - oh this slaps, go narrator!!  - i might need a better name for them than “narrator” but i don’t think they have any historical basis, i think they might just be a narrator. - “someone oughta warn them, someone oughta tell, they’re tryna find god but they’re heading for hell” HOLY SHIT

Blind Faith - Okay this was my favourite song so lets go! - carrie aceing it, of course. come on bradley. - opt up? - oohhhhh no he’s sticking with the lower range from the acoustic version. yeah, i think this song is where his and Oliver’s approach to Thomas differs the most. he sounds super good though. - i think i prefer the opt ups that we get from oliver but bradley sounds gorgeous either way. - i know bradley has the upper range, i just wanna hear it. he’s a lot stronger though i think? that might be the lower notes but he feels very booming. i’m conflicted as to how well it fits with the thomas we’ve seen seen so far. and i know bradley has a different approach than this to No Happy Ending. - not sure this one holds up unfortunately. not that i’m giving out points, but if i was, it would be a point for oliver. 

The Plot Reprise - See now THIS is what i wanted to hear from bradley during Blind Faith. - oh this is super good. i love this. do i remember what the non-reprise version of this song sounded like? no, but this slaps.  - okay i just scrolled back up and checked my notes, back on board.  - sidenote, terrified to reach Caught in the Crossfire in case that’s Thomas’s death song. 

As Far as I Can Tell - OH DANIEL SONG AGAIN. - he sounds so good i’m a daniel stan fr.  - oh this is jazzy. i hope he gets some good choreo for this. i want some jazz hands, a couple of kicks maybe.  - “...oh for gods sake” Daniel you’re incredible.  - pls stop giving daniel massive notes at the end of his songs, he’s got to do an entire run of this. i have complete faith that he’ll manage it but still. come on.

No Happy Ending  - I don’t actually have that much to say about this song? This is the version they dropped on November 5th, and I’ve listened to it enough since then that I don’t have anything else to say about it really.  - “robert catesby is a man of pure intention” gets me every single time though. i am grabbing thomas and i am shaking him and demanding he listen to his wife. he is a FOOL. an IDIOT. and i love him immensely. - “but my faith in you has clearly been misplaced” BRADLEY JUST DOESNT MISS. EVERY LINE HE SAYS FEELS LIKE A PUNCH IN THE GUT. - how have we gone from The Wedding to this. Y’all sounded so happy earlier and now we’re here. - oh scream bestie, i love you thomas.  - okay i am conflicted on martha here. i love her and she’s done her best and thomas is doomed and we know that but still. be gentle with the man who has been brainwashed into a religious cult. that’s my two cents on the matter.

Caught in the Crossfire - I paused it immediately because I needed to emotionally prepare myself but I think I heard the narrator so i think we’re okay. - no, this is not the narrator. i may still need to prepare myself. - i don’t know who this woman is. it’s not martha.  - SING LADIES. FEMINISM.  - i was expecting to be sad about thomas and actually im just vibing. there’s two minutes for things to go sour before the end of the song but i think we’re good.  - wondering if the final song will be thomas then since its a reprise of the first song, which was a Martha and Thomas song.  - MARTHA GETS THE DECIDING VOTE. NO. I MEAN, BE A FEMINIST GIRLBOSS BUT THAT IS HER HUSBAND IN THERE. - IS SHE TURNING HER BACK ON HIM. I KNEW THEY OBVIOUSLY HAD BECOME ESTRANGED BECAUSE OF NO HAPPY ENDING BUT IS SHE ABOUT TO ACTIVELY BETRAY HIM. - OH NO IM REALLY INTRIGUED BY HOW THE LAST SONG IS GONNA GO THEN. 

When Will I See You Again Reprise - buckle in lads, lets go. - oh that’s martha. that is martha.  - see i’m now fairly confident she’s not talking about thomas? i don’t know. this is what has stumped me. - is this about thomas? give us a bradley line. i need some indication of something.  - oh is that the Take Things Into Our Own Hands motif again? it sounds similar. oh i think it is.  - WHAT DOES THAT MEAN.

Okay then. Uhhh, general thoughts below ig? - the lack of Cold Hard Ground did not go unnoticed. Where is that song? give me that song. i want it. i’m aware that this isn’t all of the songs from the musical, but i’m surprised it’s not on here, since it was an already released track. very intrigued. much to think about. - no actual conclusion song. again, i’m aware this isn’t all of the songs but i THOUGHT we’d get a thomas and catesby death song this time around. i hope we get one. i hope one exists. i will be really fucking bitter if not. its been set up really well. i want one. give me one. - same goes for anything post-plot actually. i am assuming the musical will continue on and explore the death of the plotters rather than cutting off when the plot fails? i am hoping it goes on until the deaths of the plotters. i think there is the potential for good songs surrounding the manhunt. and i always want another daniel song. - i need more of thomas. i always need more of thomas. again, talking about the deaths of the plotters, i want a death song for thomas. let me take a peek inside his tiny idiot brain. i want to know if he dies still believing that catesby is a good man, or if that blind faith finally starts to give way to doubt. i want to know. i need to know. give me that good thomas percy content please. 

all in all - that fucking slapped. i’m assuming we won’t get any new content until the tour releases, so i’m gonna have to be really fucking patient until it does. i think i can manage that. im lying. i can’t. i need it now. 

[subskz]

…i lost the tag limit war

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Invisible thread- one

pairing : minho x reader

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

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

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

word count : 20k

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

part two

You have always been first in your class.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

✹✹✹

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

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

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

"What are you doing here?" He asked. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

✹✹✹

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

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

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

"I have an idea."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"But-"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

✹✹✹

You came first in your grade this semester.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

 "Most expensive thing on the menu."

"So you are only here for the food." 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Purple."

"I'll keep that in mind."

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

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

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

"You do remind me of navy blue."

"And why is that?"

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

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

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

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

"Yellow is carefree and happy."

"Exact. Now your turn, red."

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

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

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

"And right now, how do you feel?"

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

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

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

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

"I do too."

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

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

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

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

"Shut up. What about you?"

"I’d be a dancer."

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

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

"I just never expected it. Can I-"

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

"I didn't even finish."

"I knew what you were going to say."

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

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

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

"Death might be around the corner."

"Stop it."

"Close your door tonight."

"You are deranged."

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

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

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

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

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

Minho : Poor baby

Yn : Is that you at my door?

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

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

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

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

"What's there to miss?"

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

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

"Trees can't hurt you."

"No shit Sherlock."

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

"Why?"

"I’ll tell you a story."

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

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

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

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

"What did you use?" you ask quietly. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You just made his world stop.

✹✹✹

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

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

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

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

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

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

“He likes you! Go talk to him!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"You look nice. Now leave me alone."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Next time, don’t stay alone."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"I’ll ask her."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"I only tell my friends."

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

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

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

"That’s very sweet of you Minho."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"But then I’d be lying."

"Asshole."

"Pretty," he replies without missing a beat.

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

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

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

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

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

✹✹✹

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Yeah."

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

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

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

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

"You'll catch a cold."

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

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

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

"Yn, I don’t-"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Sure."

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

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

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

✹✹✹

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Never."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

This was something friends think about, right? 

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

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

"Because it's getting longer."

"But it suits you."

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

"I’ll still cut it."

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

He didn't cut his hair.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Yeah?"

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

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

"How can I help you feel yellow?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

✹✹✹

2 months later

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

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

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

"What are you doing?"

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

"Don't mind me. Do your thing." 

"And what are you doing?"

"Enjoying the sun."

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

"Nope."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

✹✹✹

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"it's nothing."

"Yn..."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Where to?"

"I’m craving ice cream."

"And why do you need me?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Not like that you look scary."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Yeah."

"Can I ask why?" 

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

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

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

"You didn't," you reply instantly. 

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

"I will." 

"Okay." 

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

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

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

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

That's four seconds more than the first time. 

Progress.        

✹✹✹

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

She deleted your number.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Yn-"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"You won't understand."

"Then make me."

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

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

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

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

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

"Please, let me make it better." 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"I know."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"I want to tell you."

"You don't need to."

"I know, but I want to."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"It will take time."

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

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

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

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

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

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

"We do."

"Then make a wish."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Epilogue

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

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

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

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

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

[kusundei]

forgot to. blog yesterday. was way too tired but ohhh my god im still tweaking. I DID GOOD ON MY PRESENTATION ACTUALLY just aside from the fact i went over time and the. um. sigma. 🙂 but i digress. im still. GODDD. he makes me insane oh my god im being so serious yesterday was so perfect hes actually so. perfect. OHHH MY GOD no because the way he kissed me. TWICE. and thank god i didnt tweak the last time i was just sooo. GODDD. oh my god hes socute i cant take jt anymore IM STILL THINKING AHOUT WHAT I SAID LAST NIGHT I LITERALLY CANT. GET IT OUTOF MY HEAD IM A FREAAAK IM FREAKKYYYYY. AND WHAT HE SAID OHHH NY GOD. he makes me so insane i CAAANTT I SERIOUST CANT. hes so attractive im actually sick i cant believe he . ljkes me. too. GODDD IM SUCH A PUSSYYYY THE SHIT ICWANTED TO DO BUT I WAS TOO SCAREDD GODDD. if. nobody had came around. after that first time. i swear to god. on my life i wouldve kept holding him and god. the urge to just kiss his neck im a fucking FREAAAKKKK IM BEING FREAAAKKYYY SAVE ME. god hes just so. ssooo. he makes me insane watching him just act and go on stage and him in that suit and god everythintgg. WHEN HES TWEAAAKIJNGNHHH EHEN HE HELF MY HAND AND HES SO CLOSE TO MEE AND THE WAY HE LOOKS AT MEEE oh my fod im actually sp in love wirh him its makinf me ill. IMMM ILLLLLL. SAVVVV KEEPS COMPLAINING AB HOW WE SHOULD JUST DATE BUT IM SCAREDD TOOO ASKKK AND IIMMMM PATIENT. IF HES NOT. READY.? THEN ITS OKAY. god forbid however i just. oh my god. i cant take it anymore i jeed to tweak ab this to people i want to call u my boyfriend. sorry. JUST LIKE GODDD. I CAAANNTNTNTT i cant fucking do it i. iiii. GOD.

no i swear. today. i will try. to prevent evil overthinker sam from fronting. i will. i swear. ILL FUCKING DO IT PLEASE IM JUST SO SCARED AND LARANLID AND NETVOUS he wont lash me i need to calm down. im okay. hes jsut so cute its makjnng meee ILLLL THE PHOTOOSODSS. godd the video i took i just tweaked and listened to it last night before flaling asleep as much as i hate my voice ill ignore it sp i can hear you. i wish i couldve recorded you actually but audio will suffice. just. god. you are so. cute. so attractive. i am ill.

[teeto-peteto]

“Allow characters to have more than one emotion?” Oh no, Riot can’t do that, otherwise players will complain about why the characters talk so much.” (All of this is sarcasm, in case it wasn’t clear.) I swear, sometimes it feels like people want voice lines to go back to minute long carousel rides.

…Anyway. Vent over.

vent is not over

This is a perfect statement. Unless you're talking about Mordekaiser.

Anyone remembers when Project: Mordekaiser dropped and everyone started loosing their shit and claimed THIS was the best legendary skin in the game? How easy everyone threw down the river Dark Cosmic Jhin.

But they give a GIRL champion ONE more range of emotion and they fucking loose their shit. Male champions get full armored rad skins and everyone claps and make fan edits with the quotes and female champions get their splashart upside down and a reddit post saying 'Ok guys do you think they made her boobs bigger or nah?'.

Literally Ashe gets pushed away for speaking and in the meantime Viego is literally speaking his whole life and everyone goes like 'Wow... this slaps for an instagram reel with his quotes and stolen fanart'.

Riot does not want to put effort. Even now they are cutting down minutes of legendary and definitive skins voice lines to 8 minutes cause well they want the money money but they dont want to pay pay actors.

Riot constantly gives the 'thicc tiddy' skins to female champions. If they do to male champions, its because in their canon model they are shirtless/wearing revealing clothes etc (for example, Rakan or Sylas). Coven constantly gives this skins to female champions and then give a cool monster/spirit to male champions. Yes, covens are always composed of women, as star guardians are based on the magical girl trope and we still have Ezreal and Ekko there. Do we actually NEED to be 'historically correct' about coven?! Motherfuckers put girls in ridiculous clothing to call them witchy and then try to be historically correct. And they give the guys the cool skins. For what?! Cant we have an Old god Bel'Veth? Cant we have any female champion actually turn into monstruous eldritch horror? If they want to be so calculative and respectful to 'feminist part of history' then do this?

3. The community sucks and its mostly formed by dick-in-hand men. They see titty on a girl they go ooga booga. If the champion speaks and doesnt say anything cool rad about darkness and killing and slavering people then they loose interest and cry. 'Shut up woman i dont care'. In the end we will turn back to the 1 minute carousel lines cause nobody gives a flying fuck about what characters say. The amount of videos/shorts/reels i have seen recently about champion quotes theres not even ONE said by a woman champion. They always quote something corny about Sett being strong whatever. They always quote Viego in a romantic way, as if provoking mass genocide with the excuse of 'love' wasnt a red flag enough. They quote Mordekaiser (literally a torturer and an slaver, yeah...). But hey, i guess they are easy to harvest so Riot will keep producing for them.

ranted more than i expected but well :^)

small note: i do not care about anyones favourite character. You like Mordekaiser? Awesome. You like Viego? Go my dear, you can fix him i believe in you. You like Ashe? Thats so cool. I do not shame anyone's character/fictional other/kin at all. Everything i say just applies to heteronormative male that presents a huge percentage of lol players and active twitter users that bombards Riot.

[ador3him]

Hii!! This is my first request and I'm literally so anxious 😭 but anyway, can I request a Quackity x Reader (most preferably female with she/they prns) inspired by the song "You Rock My World" by MJ?

Is 🍜 anon taken?

pairing: quackity x fem!reader

warnings: none

requested? yes by 🍜 anon

wc :unknown

song? You Rock My World by Michael Jackson

a/n: I AM SOSOSOSO SORRY THIS TOOK AGES I NVR LISTENED TO THIS SONG B4 WRITING THIS IS LIKE SJDJDJF also this is so bad HABAHAHA

Quackity was sat infront of a blank piece of lined paper. It was Quackity and y/n's 2 year anniversary, and he was sat infront of a blank piece of lined paper. Sitting. Waiting. Waiting for an idea, an idea to write about.

Dear y/n,

Mi amor, words cannot explain.

"Words cannot explain, I cannot think!" Quackity scrunched up the piece of paper and threw it into the bin which was over flowing with other paper.

"She rocks my world, Karl. But I cannot think of anything to write. I am a trashy ass boyfriend! Fuck." Quackity's voice cracked slightly. "Write about how she rocks your world, Alex. Boom, love note !" Karl's voice sounded distance through the phone like he was doing something else. "Yeah, wait. Oh my god thats it! I got it, thanks Karl. You're a life saver. Bye!" Quackity quickly hung up and went to writing.

-

"Happy anniversary, baby!" y/n walked into his apartment with a large boquet of sunflowers and a little black bag. "Happy anniversary, mi amor. I missed you," Quackity and y/n had agreed to stay away from each other for a week to get their anniversary presents and stuff sorted without spoiling it for one another.

"Open it," y/n ushered handing him his flowers and the little black bag. "I love sunflowers," "I know! That is why i got them for you," they said leaning in and giving him a soft kiss. "Thank you," he mumbled against their lips. She pulled away and shoved the bag closer to him. He pulled out a diamond cross necklace out of one of 2 of the boxes in the bag. "Wow, this is gorgeous." Quackity smiled. "Open the other one," y/n giggles slightly. Inside the other box is a silver ring band with their annviersary date on it and their inital on it. "I love you, I love this. I fucking love us, mia vida" He smiled kissing y/n forcefully.

"Now, my turn." Quackity placed a box on y/n's lap along with a envolope. "Read it."

Dear mi amor,

I love you, you fucking rock my world. Ive finally found the perfect love I have been looking for all my life. The rarest love whod think id find, someone like you, to call mine.

You fucking rock my world and I dont wanna give you up, never ever. You are my rock, and I am yours. Mi amor please look in the box and find more.

Love, Alex.

"I am so confused, you write songs now?" y/n laughed. "Look in the fucking box, idiot." Quackity giggled. She opened the box to find a key. "A key? Alex, honey, i love you but i got you 2 pieces of jewllery and you got me a key to your apartment in which I already have a key for," y/n laughed harder. " No! its for our house!" Quackity was now laughing. "What?" "Our house, we have a house together." Quackity pulled out a folder, a beautiful house was on the cover. "This is our gardern!" Quackity motioned to the whole house. "Still rolling with the rock thing?" She laughed. "Shut up! Karl said it would be cute!" Quackity covered his face in embarrassment. "I cant believe you bought us a house, and i bought you 2 pieces of jewllery, how bad am I?" she pressed her face onto Quackitys shoulder blushing.

They were eachothers rock, now living together in their gardern.

[vryivs]

she really sees right through his big boy act its so cute

yanqing acquires a new parental figure every patch that he's in. obsessed

"thank GOD i dont have to somehow maintain a one person polycule"

she makes a good point. yet another w for my beautiful daughter whose companion mission i still havent played

lingsha POV!

do not fear, team cunt are here

btw it causes me sympathetic pain seeing hanya's chest plate be a cup size too small. imagine the chafing. jesus. i <3 practical fantasy armour

his voice is so much softer talking to these guys i love 孙晔. his line delivery literally never disappoints. also look at him.

exact right vibe. perfect casting.

help i went to gush over his talent and found out he's also voiced wu xie? remarkable. what a man.

also jing yuan is GUILTY the way he speaks to dan heng (former prisoner) and lingsha (former prisoner). he's like teddy after he tears up a pair of shoes and gets told off

h. hello?

ok well i am definitely finding out what that is about

oh its just more sanctus medicus stuff. nevermind. i wanted to see jing yuan transform into a catboy but i guess not all dreams can come true

jing yuan likers how are we feeling getting explicit confirmation that this man is soaked in trauma

GET HIS ASS

he's so nice about it. good. he better be

the framing of this shot is so funny.

anyway, i kind of really like how this is handling the shackling prison. like it was obvious (to me at least) that it wasn't going to be an 'oh there are flaws but its a good system' because dan heng exists. seeing them really emphasise that the shackling prison is based out of a real desire to enact vengeance, rather than to dish out just punishment is great

the xianzhou alliance and its politics are so appealing to me. they arent trying to tell us 'hey this is a good system.' theyre letting it exist and letting us witness it ourselves and make our own minds up (which i think is why despite having the same rating the honkai games feel more mature than genshin--i struggled playing genshin with how it seemed always to explain how the good guys are morally pure even if their actions suggest otherwise)

yeah that sounds like fu hua (affectionate)

---------> imbibitor lunae

she will NOT let him catch a break omg. i love her

NO FREAKING WAY

omg omg omg. dan heng lore??? the fact he has the memories isnt an inherent botched rebirth thing he was literally experimented on. thats crazy

no wonder jing yuan is the most understanding about dan heng's relationship to his past if he knew this all along

jing yuan is so dramatic dropping this lore all while looking like this :3

mf you could have said this back when dan heng was having a crisis at jingliu's reunion party and yet

i love lingsha. girl was enjoying her grudge and now she's gotta let it go. devastated for her

lingsha's plan is great she is. god i cant think of the word but she is so venomous. so conniving. thank GOD she's on our side because her mind is created to light fire under everyone's asses. she does NOT pull her punches. no nonsense girlboss.

youre so obsessed with him it makes you look stupid

ok that is quite fucked up. infact

everything he says just makes her sound better and better

i am in love with this woman

i am so so so in love with this woman