#the soundtrack gives me goosebumps every time

[ovaryacted]

Bored as shit, watching one of the best animated movies of all time: The Prince of Egypt.

[tododeku-or-bust]

Koji Kondo in the studio composing for the Legend of Zelda and defining the best parts of my childhood:

[hanjsquokka]

when the cherry blossoms fall.

lee minho × fem!reader — soulmate au, high school au, time traveling, love at first sight, drawing closer × lovely runner, fluff/angst

summary — minho wasn't meant to see you there, falling for you before he even knew your name or why you were attached to that tube. fate was so cruel to bring you close, only to pull you away before he got to tell you those three little words he was keeping inside him. but when the same cruel destiny presented an opportunity to make things right, he wasn't going to let it slip away from him again.

warnings — mentions of illness, death, hospitals, time traveling, depression, characters are aged 18/19 for half of the story, blood (i don't want to spoil the whole plot so i'll just leave it at this)

word count — 6.7K words

soundtrack — listen here

author's note — drawing closer broke me. i have never cried so much, it was just so sad :(. i love writing high school au sm, it's a lot of fun. this layout is inspired by the lovely @starseungs <3 i hope you enjoy reading this. please reblog and comment, i'd love to hear your thoughts since this is something very different to what i've written before <33

The fan above him spun around with a loud creak, making more noise than giving him air. The environment was cold outside, with winter still clinging to the wind, making a chill run down his spine amidst his worry for his friend. Hyunjin was far too reckless for his own good—why did he never listen to Minho? He was right after all. He did that stupid skateboard stunt, and now look what happened. Minho had to bring him to the hospital because he was almost a hundred percent sure he broke his leg.

“You're not a teenager anymore, Hyunjin,” Minho chided as Hyunjin paid him no heed, too excited to ride the skateboard that he found in the dusty boxes of his garage. Once upon a time, Hyunjin was really good at skateboarding. But it had been years since then. “At least do something normal.”

“Normal is for losers.”

He shook his head, not wanting to recount the sound of the sickening crack of the skateboard followed by his friend's wail of pain. A wave of goosebumps formed over his skin as he tried to focus on something else, like how he would tell him I told you so when he saw him about how he could be as dumb as he was seven years ago and watch him roll his eyes. He gazed at the branch of the sakura tree he could see outside the window, still bare from the snowy months.

The faint smell of soap was followed by loud giggles. He turned his head to the source of the sound, eyes following on a couple young kids jumping up and down as they were surrounded by bubbles, dancing around a person sitting in a wheelchair. 

That was when he saw you.

You blew another bout of the soapy spheres, the sunlight refracting through them and creating tiny, diffused rainbows. Your eyes nearly turned into crescents, crinkling at the corners as you laughed along with the children. Your smile was so contagious that he could feel the corners of his own lips tugging upward. It was like the filter of his eyes changed, and the world suddenly became more vibrant and colorful—just because of you. He didn't even notice the tube that ran along beneath your nose, the way you couldn't move your body beneath your waist, or the ill-fitting hospital gown you had on. 

Minho couldn't tear his eyes away from you, not even when a nurse approached him to inform him of Hyunjin's condition. A quick snap brought him out of his trance, his ears turning red along with his cheeks. He quietly got up and shuffled behind the nurse towards the room Hyunjin was resting in.

Over the next week, Minho visited the hospital twice a day to meet Hyunjin, once in the morning before work and once in the evening after work. A couple of their other friends came every now and then, but it was mostly just Minho.

And he wanted to keep it that way.

Not to be disrespectful to his friend, but he wanted to see you without getting hounded by relentless teasing and possibly drive you away (not like he had ever spoken to you; no, this was all in his head).

There was something about you that drew Minho in, like a moth to a flame. Like he knew you from somewhere, but he couldn't put a finger on it.

The following Sunday, the day Hyunjin was being discharged, Minho was there at the hospital. He was miserably failing at operating the water cooler to quench his parched throat, his ears turning pink from the effort of trying to find out why water wasn't coming out of the faucet when he turned the knob. 

“That thing has never worked,” a voice said from behind. You approached him in your wheelchair, a permanent smile on your face as you looked at him, hands folded in your lap.

“Oh…” He felt stupid. 

“Here you go.” You handed him a plastic water bottle, which he gratefully took and took a few gulps, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. “I've seen you a lot around here; are you unwell?”

“Oh? No, no—my friend—he did something stupid and broke his leg. I didn't want to leave him alone.”

You nodded your head. “That's sad. Is he okay?”

Minho nodded. “He's okay enough to talk my ear off.” He chuckled, to which you chuckled in return. A warm, fluttery feeling rose on his chest at the thought of him making you smile. “Thank you... for the water.”

“No problem. You looked like you were going to break that.”

“Was I?” His face flushed, and he rubbed the back of his neck with his hand sheepishly at your words. 

“What's your name?”

“Minho. What about you?”

“Y/n.”

Y/n… He liked that. He wanted to say something more—to keep talking to you so he could hear that voice of yours that made his heart tap dance in his rib cage when a group of kids ran up to you, talking over each other in excited giggles and shrieks. You laughed along with them as they tugged at your hand.

“I'm sorry. I'll see you again later?” He nodded quickly, forgetting that Hyunjin was going to be discharged. He had no reason to come back, but you wanted him to come back, right? Or were you just being polite in front of the kids so he wouldn't be reduced to a pile of shame?

Despite his conflicting thoughts, he found himself visiting the hospital every day without fail, hoping to at least catch a glimpse of you, and was surprised to see you waiting for him near the water cooler. That set your friendship in motion, with you talking endlessly every evening about anything and everything. The invisible red string that tied him to you brought him closer and closer. You were a siren, and he was a sailor entranced by your voice.

The weather grew warmer, and spring began to show itself in the trees and in the flowers. The snow-covered roads were no longer a hassle to drive on, and Minho could finally put away his boots, opting for a more comfortable pair of shoes for work and to visit you. Like clockwork, at five in the evening, he switched off his computer, shoved his papers into his work bag, and made a beeline for his car, no longer needing a map because he already knew the way.

You were there waiting for him in your room after he checked in at the reception, eager to tell him more tales and funny stories, anecdotes of other patients, and the kids you hung out with. Sometimes, you and he would talk for hours. Sometimes, you sat in silence, sketching away in your book, while he sat beside you, reading a book.

Minho showed you pictures of his three cats, which you dawned on almost immediately, cooing at the sight of the three kitties, making his heart melt. He wished he could bring them, but he couldn't, so he showed you as many videos and photos he could since they seemed to bring you immense joy.

Some days, however, you could hardly sit up, laying down on the bed with a grimace on your face. You thought you could hide from him, but he knew you were in pain. He was in pain, seeing you like that. You didn't mention it in your endless conversation, so he assumed you didn't like to talk about it.

He never asked you why you were in the hospital in the first place, why all the happiness drained out of your face when you tried to move in your wheelchair, why that tube sat above your pretty pink lips—he didn't see all that. He only saw you.

You and your wonderful smile.

You and your ability to light up his world.

You and the way you always made his heart skip a beat.

You and your beautiful eyes that he swore held galaxies inside; he could stare at them forever.

“I can't wait for the sakuras to bloom,” you said one day, the two of you sitting in the shade of a cherry blossom outside of the hospital. “It's my favorite part of the whole year.” But while you were looking at the budding pink blossoms, he was looking at your face.

He was falling. Falling hard. You were the first thought on his mind when he woke up and the last one when he went to sleep. He dreamed of you, sweet little fantasies of spending the rest of his life with you.

He knew you better than himself, that you liked pancakes drowned in syrup and berries on top, that you loved a specific type of daisy called a gerbera daisy—a flower that looked as vibrant as you, that you hated the thunder but loved the rain, and that you were an amazing artist. Your dreams of becoming a painter and having something in the Louvre Museum in Paris, visiting the top of Tokyo Tower, and swimming at the beach. It made you so happy to talk about them that it made him happy, grinning ear to ear as you animatedly explained all the details to him.

“Whoa, we were in the same class,” Minho said, eyes wide with shock as he looked at the yearbook in your hands. You were both on the topic of school when you found out that the place you were describing felt too similar. It was only when you talked about a certain math teacher that you realized it was the same person.

Minho dug through his old school things at home and found his yearbook; the insides of the cover were scribbled with so many names of people whom he used to call friends.

It was funny how you two had crossed paths before, but he had no recollection of you. He silently cursed at his past teenage self for not knowing you—then again, fate worked in different ways.

“Yeah, I was looking through it, and I saw your face. Weird, right?” He nodded, looking at the photo of you from seven years ago. You looked almost exactly the same, except now your hair has grown out much more. How had he never noticed you?

His feelings towards you have only increased since then, to the point where they felt suffocating to bottle up inside him. Like a volcano waiting to erupt. He took one look at your face and zoned out, completely missing what you said and barely covering up when you asked him for his opinion. He had to bite his tongue every time he almost blurted out that sentence that was marinating in his brain.

I love you.

“You're down bad,” Hyunjin told him after Minho confessed to having feelings for you after he was confronted about his visits to the hospital for the past two months. “Like bad bad. I never thought I'd see you like this.”

“I like her,” Minho admitted again. “A lot. Now that I've known her, I don't think I can go back to pretending she doesn't exist.”

“Then tell her.”

He paused. “Confess… to Y/n?”

Hyunjin let out an exasperated sigh, shifting his position on the couch. “Yes, Minho, proclaim your love to the woman you love.”

“Is that a good idea?”

“If you like her so much despite her problems, then it's worth a shot, don't you think? And I have a feeling she feels the same way.”

“You think so?”

“There is only one way to find out.”

There is only one way to find out.

Hyunjin was right. Minho should confess. No harm in doing that, right? He picked out his best shirt, tucking it into his pants, and looked at his reflection in the mirror, messing with his hair for a while before he gave up and let it be. He smoothed down the wrinkles in the crisp white shirt, wondering if he was too dressed up for this. He sprayed on some cologne that you had complimented the day he wore it and gave himself a pep talk as he drove to a flower shop.

With bright red gerbera daisies in hand, he took a few deep breaths in front of the hospital entrance. The cherry blossom trees were in full bloom, ready to fall at any moment. You would love to see them, he thought, smiling to see himself. If things went the way he wanted them to, he would bring you out here and sit at a bench. Maybe get some ice cream from the cafeteria and watch the sakura trees.

Minho steeled himself and walked inside, making his way to the front desk. It was a daily routine, but today was different. His hair on the back of his neck was on end, and his heart was beating uncomfortably loudly in his chest.

“I'm here to see Y/N,” he told the receptionist. He was expecting her to tell him to go down the hallway, take the elevator up to your floor, and go to your room, as he did every day. He didn't expect the nurse to look up at him with a solemn face, a jolt of panic going through him even before she said anything.

“I'm sorry, Mr. Lee. She passed away earlier today. Her illness suddenly became worse, and her body couldn't fight it.”

His heart dropped, along with the bouquet of red flowers in his hands. “What? But—but I was here yesterday. She was fine. How—” His vision blurred with tears as the nurse once again shook her head in sorrow. His ears rang loudly, hands gripping onto the countertop hard enough to make his knuckles white, his throat closing up as he felt like the whole world was crumbling in front of him. His heart was ripped out of his chest and trampled upon as the nurse explained to him and told him about your final resting place. She handed him an envelope, sealed with a sticker of a strawberry and his name written on the front in your handwriting.

He sat in his car and cried for a long time, his forehead resting on the steering wheel as sob after sob racked through his body. His throat ached and his eyes burned, but he couldn't stop crying. The world became dull again; the happiness and light that you once brought are gone. Even after he shed his last tear, his heart squeezed dry and now hollow, he still couldn't will himself to drive away; he couldn't make himself look at the envelope sitting next to him in the passenger seat.

Minho blasted the air conditioner and closed his eyes to take a few deep breaths, but he was plagued by visions of you, and the pain in his heart increased tenfold. He didn't know how long he was sitting there in his car, but he did know that he could never tell you how much he loved you, how you made his life worth living, and how he would cherish you with his whole heart for eternity.

I love you.

Dear Minho,

If you're reading this then… I must not be there anymore. Firstly, I want to thank you for making the last few months of my life so memorable. I loved every moment I spent with you, and I wish I could've had many more—perhaps a lifetime more. Thank you for making me smile when my heart felt heavy, for making me laugh when I felt like crying, and for showing me so much more love than I deserve. 

Second, I want to tell you I'm sorry. I'm sorry for not telling you the full story of me, the reasons why I'm paralyzed below my waist, and why I was so sick I could barely move sometimes. Because when you were there, I wanted to be happy. I didn't want to think about my illness or the fact that I would die and leave you alone. It was too much to bear, although I thought about it every night.

All those dreams I told you about? The biggest one I had was to be with you. This is the third thing I wanted to tell you, but I never had the chance because I was too much of a coward, which is that I like you. No, I love you. I've loved you since we were in school. I recognized you in the hospital that day, and you didn't, but I was so happy to see you again, although I wish you didn't have to see me in that state, lying on my deathbed.

I love you so much, Lee Minho. I wish we had more time together, but I cherished every moment we had. I love you, and I always will. And I hope you do too.

Forever,

Y/n.

The words in your letter were permanently etched into his brain, a painful reminder of your absence and of how oblivious he was to your reciprocated feelings. He couldn't move for a few days, lying in bed, alternating between crying and simply staring at the ceiling, memories of you playing in his head again and again like a broken record he never wanted to fix.

Minho didn't visit you until Sunday, not wanting to believe the harsh reality of you not being with him anymore. He did his best to hide any remnant of his red eyes and puffy face, dressed in the shirt you liked, and bought red gerbera daisies once again to see you. He had to look good for you.

It took him a while to find you, but there you were.

In loving memory of a loving daughter and dear friend, Y/N L/N

(25.03.1999 - 10.04.2024)

“Hey,” his voice cracked. He stubbornly tried to blink at the tears forming in his eyes. Minho bit his lip, kneeling down to place the flowers in front of the tombstone and brushing some dirt off of the granite. “I miss you.” A wobbly smile formed on his face. He could almost see your face in front of him, a teasing glint in your eyes as you poked fun at him. He sniffled, turning away to wipe his eyes. “And you never gave me the chance to tell you that... that I love you too. I was nervous, and now I'm too late. I'm sorry, Y/n.” He choked on his words and stood up. “I would do anything to get you back.”

There was a cool breeze, ruffling his hair. He thought it was you and closed his eyes, imagining it was your hands carding through his air. He felt something fall on him—cherry blossoms. The wind carried them in a delicate dance, surrounding him and you in a flurry of pink petals.

“The sakuras are blooming,” he said sadly.

But you weren't here to see it.

The drive home was silent. Minho didn't put the radio on, half focused on the idle roads and darkening horizon. The cherry blossom trees all over the city were blooming, he noticed, as his car stood idle at a red light. He believed a part of him died along with you. You were his soulmate; that's what he liked to believe. You were connected in more ways than one, with destiny pulling on your strings to get you close and then snipping the thread at the last second.

The light turned red. He changed the gear and moved forward.

It all happened too fast: the rev of another car coming in from his side at a speed double that of the limit, him noticing too late as the front crashed to his left, his head flying into the window and breaking the glass into shards that wedged into his skin.

And then everything went black. 

Minho's head shot up. Was he dead? Did he die in that car crash? His head was killing him; a throb was coming from deep inside his brain, making him wince and hold his head. But there was no blood on his hands when he pulled away. How was that possible?

“Are you okay?” He looked up. Hyunjin was approaching him along with a few other people he recognized as Bang Chan, Han Jisung, and... Kim Seungmin? He hadn't spoken to the last one since high school. “I think it hit you really hard.”

“What do you mean, I was in a—” He halted in his tracks. “What are you wearing?” Minho's eyes were trained on the gray blazer he was wearing, a gold pin affixed to the lapel. Underneath was a navy blue waistcoat and a white shirt collar peeking above.

Hyunjin blinked. “What do you mean?”

“No,” he said, letting out something that was a mix of a laugh and a scoff. “Why are you wearing that? Are you pulling my leg?”

“My… uniform?”

“Yah, Minho, did you hit your head that hard?” Jisung laughed, slinging an arm over his shoulder, making him bend. 

“Of course I did, I—”

His mind clicked. They were standing on a field. Not just any old field—their school play field, where they used to play soccer every day after class. There was laughter and yelling all around him. Hyunjin, Jisung, Chan, and Seungmin—even Minho himself—were wearing the same clothes. Gray blazer, white shirt, gray slacks, and the gold pin. Some were wearing the navy blue waistcoat and a tie, but it was the same thing from seven years ago.

“This isn't funny; why are we here?” This had to be some joke, courtesy of Jisung. He was a prankster, but this was taking it too far.

“Minho, are you sure you're okay? Do you need to go to the nurse?” Chan had worry written all over his face. 

Minho glanced at each of them, getting more and more confused by the second. His eyes flitted down to his clothes and back up, at the other students, the school building, and back to his friends.

“Maybe he has a concussion,” Seungmin quipped. “I told those rugby guys to take it down a notch.”

Those words sounded familiar. A sense of deja vu washed over him, his hair pricking on end, and a light bulb went off in his head.

This has happened before.

“Hey, Lee Minho... You're scaring me.” Hyunjin's hand held his left bicep and shook him.

“This happened before... Why am I here? I graduated school seven years ago...” He muttered underneath his breath.

“What are you saying? I think we need to take you to the nurse.”

Minho cut Chan off. “Today, what is today's date?”

“April 10th, why?”

“The year, Seungmin.”

“2017—”

The air was knocked out of his lungs. He was in the past. Seven years in the past. He was still in his last year of high school, liked playing soccer, never wore the uniform correctly, and was still friends with Kim Seungmin.

“Y/n…” 

You would be alive. If he was right and he was somehow transported back in time to when he was in school, you would be alive. You would be okay, not lying in a hospital bed, unable to move, waiting for your illness to consume you. 

He had another chance.

“Y/n? You mean from our class? Why d—”

Minho leaped at Hyunjin, his eyes blazing with determination. He held his shoulders as he spoke again. “Where is she?”

“I think she was leaving?”

That was all Minho needed to know. He quickly grabbed his bag and bolted down the field onto the pavement that led to the main gate. He could hear his friends calling for him; they were undoubtedly confused by his behavior, but that didn't matter. All he had to do was make sure you were alive. He spotted a girl walking, a backpack slung over her back.

There was only one way he could find out.

“Y/n?” He called, hoping he wasn't making a fool of himself in front of someone else.

The girl turned, and his heart stopped.

It was you, a younger version of you, the one from the yearbook, looking at him with a confused tilt of your head. He could see your lips move, probably saying his name, but he couldn't hear it. There was a gust of wind, the breeze urging him to surge forward, and he did, colliding into your body and embracing you tightly. His breaths were uneven, tears forming in his eyes as he rested his chin on top of your head, his fingers brushing through your hair.

“You're okay…” He squeezed you tighter.

You were the first one to pull away; your cheeks were tinted pink. You couldn't meet his eyes. “Why did you do that? Is something wrong, Minho? Of course I'm okay.”

Minho felt something fall on his shoulder. A sakura. The cherry blossom trees were blooming, showering the two of you with a cascade of pink petals. His eyes searched yours, but he could only see bewilderment. A relieved laugh escaped him. He squatted on the ground and covered his face with his hands.

He got another chance.

Another chance with you.

He looked back up at you and felt a multitude of emotions bubble up in him, but the main one was love.

“Yeah, you're okay.”

“You're acting weird.”

“Can I walk you home?”

“Sure, but—”

“Great.”

Minho was all smiles; he couldn't stop it. His heart was beating out of his chest as he walked alongside you, gripping onto the strap of his bag, his ears turning pink every time your shoulders brushed his. He was beyond happy, relieved, and excited, all at the same time. He tried to fill the silence of the walk by asking you questions like how your day had gone, what you ate for lunch, and if he could walk home with you every day.

You were completely flustered and confused; he could see that. It must be weird for you for him to come talk out of nowhere. He remembered that you had liked him since high school, so that means this would work out. He just had to act normal and make sure he would change your fate and his, to make sure that you would be with him forever.

“This is me,” you awkwardly gestured to the house the two of you had stopped in front of.

Minho nodded, feeling a little upset that you had to go away too soon. “Right… Well, I'll see you tomorrow.”

You bit your lip. “Yeah. I'll see you tomorrow, Minho. Get home safe.”

“I will,” he grinned and waved goodbye before he set for his house, turning around one last time to see you on the porch if your house was doing a happy dance, which made him laugh, his face flushing red.

You were okay.

And so was he.

It took him a while to find his own house in the unfamiliar neighborhood he was in. He missed living in his parent's place, with his mother's home-cooked food that he hadn't eaten in ages. When was the last time he visited his mom and dad? He eagerly went up to the door and opened it, the familiar sight of the entryway making him nostalgic. 

“Someone's all smiles today,” his mom said with a chuckle, watching him untie his shoes and put on his house slippers. His mother looked younger than he had last seen her, wearing a cardigan. He remembered that she said that it had shrunk in the washing machine. It was brand new now. “Did you have a good day today, sweetheart?”

“The best. I'll be in my room,” he said, almost tripping over his two feet in giddiness as he went up the stairs to his bedroom. It looked exactly the same as he used to have it. He threw his bag onto the floor and then himself onto his bed, breathing in the smell of the detergent on the bedsheets.

“This is crazy,” he said to himself. If all of this was a dream, he never wanted to wake up. Maybe he was in a coma from the car crash, but it all felt too real. He remembered this day happening before: getting hit in the head by a rugby ball, and Seungmin chiding the guys who were playing with it. This was obviously not a prank; everyone looked younger and was befuddled, looking at him like he was nuts. 

He time-traveled. Actually, time traveled back to the past to save you.

His phone buzzed in his pocket. He even had his old phone.

Hyunjin: Minho, you're okay, right? You were acting really weird.

Minho: Yeah, I'm fine. I think I got hurt more than I thought I did.

Hyunjin: Okay 🤨

Hyunjin: Why did you run off like that, though? You don't even talk to Y/N, and suddenly you were acting as if she were on the verge of death?

Minho : I just needed to check something.

Hyunjin: You're weird. Get some sleep and don't be late tomorrow again, or Seung's going to kill you.

Minho: I won't 🙄

He was back in 2017. He was a teenager again. 

“This is so cool.”

It was something straight out of a movie. Minho felt like he was living in a fever dream, being able to relive his adolescence. Since he knew how much he could lose, he made sure to make this second chance worth it. Instead of skipping meals and eating from the vending machine, he scarfed down whatever delicious meal his mother made, making both of his parents laugh at his sudden switch in behavior. 

“Eat slowly, or you'll choke,” his dad said with a chuckle when Minho piled on more food and eagerly shoved it down his throat.

He took the opportunity to join a dance class like he did when he was a kid, knowing that he regretted not doing it years later.

Instead of wasting time in class and being moody, he studied—trying to study. 

Then again, he had you to help. Y/N, the wise one, teased when the two of you sat together in the library during lunch on the premise of studying, but you mostly ended up laughing so hard that the librarian kicked the two of you out. 

He spent more time with his friends, doing everything he was bitter about later in life.

Months passed by like this. Minho woke up in his bed every day, was greeted by his 2PM posters on his wall, ate breakfast with his parents, and went to school. He daydreamed about you in class, much to the suspicions of his friends, and walked home with you. He had to make sure nothing happened to you that would derail his plan for the perfect future.

“Do you like Y/N?” Hyunjin asked during lunch one day, pulling a chair out in front of him with a loud scraping noise. It was autumn, and the air was much colder in the mornings than it was a few weeks ago. The cherry blossom trees were barren, awaiting spring to bloom once more. 

“Good afternoon to you too, Hyune.” Minho greeted him and continued to eat his lunch.

“Don't deflect my question. Do you like her or not?”

“And if I do?”

Hyunjin's eyes went so big that Minho thought they'd fall right out of their sockets. “Seriously?”

“Why is it that interesting to you?”

“Oh, this is a golden opportunity.” Hyunjin leaned forward with his elbows on the desk.

“Why are you so interested in my love life?”

“Please, the last time you admitted to having a crush, it was on the idol singer Lee Hyori. I have a right to be curious.” Minho rolled his eyes, but he was a bit flustered. He still hadn't thought of how he would take the relationship with you to the next level. The last time he planned to confess, well, that didn't end well. “What do you like about her? She's pretty; I get that. And she's really good at art, and she's smart.”

“Have you made your point?” He raised a brow.

Hyunjin let out a frustrated sigh. “You're so mean, Lee Minho.” He hit his shoulder lightly. “I'm just saying this, okay? But I accidentally eavesdropped on a conversation her friends were having—an accident, okay? And I think I heard Y/n's name moving in the same sentence.”

Minho choked, his face turning red as he coughed, picked up his water bottle to drink some water, and took big gulps of air afterwards. “What?”

Hyunjin's words haunted him the whole day and then the next day because you weren't coming to school, nor were you answering his texts. He was trying hard to not look desperate, but he was grasping at straws. 

The weekend rolled around, and he was getting worried. What if Hyunjin was right and you had moved away? But you wouldn't do that without telling him, right? The two of you were friends. 

Friends.

His mother had the worst timing when she sent him to pick up some things from the store—a loud crack of thunder and the pitter-patter of raindrops began the second he stepped into the convenience store. He grabbed the things he needed as well as an umbrella, purchasing all of them at the register before standing outside underneath the umbrella.

That was when he caught the familiar sight of your form, crouching on the side of the road next to a small ball of fluff. The umbrella you were using barely covered you, as you were instead shielding a pair of kittens and cooing at them.

Minho's heart leaped into his chest, his legs moving on their own towards you and standing right next to you, covering you with his own umbrella. You looked up and then at him, a smile breaking out on your face, but this time he didn't return it.

“What happened to you? You disappeared for two days, and Hyunjin said you were moving and you weren't responding to me and—”

“Whoa, Min, breathe,” you chuckled and stood up. “What moving? I'm not moving. My friend is.”

He let out a breath he didn't know he was holding. “Oh.”

You laughed. “Were you worried about me?”

“Of course I was,” he blurted out, his cheeks flushing. He cleared his throat and looked away from you, his heart dancing in his ribcage. He'd planned to do this once before, but standing in front of you, all the courage drained right out of him, and he was left as a puddle of nerves. “So why didn't you come to school then?”

“I was sick.”

“You were sick. And you were out here standing in the rain for two cats?” He shook his head. “Hold this.” He pushed the umbrella he was holding into your hands and quickly shed his jacket, putting it over your shoulder and pulling the hood over your head, using it to try and dry your hair. “You're going to get sick again.” His hands stopped at the sides of your face, his lips parting as he looked into your eyes.

“Thank you…” Your face was also turning red at the proximity between the two of you that he just noticed. 

Minho swallowed the lump in his throat. Now or never. “I need to tell you something.”

“What?”

“I couldn't tell you this before because I was too scared, but now I know how much I have to lose.”

“What are you saying, Min?”

“Just let me finish, okay?” He took a deep breath, pushing a stand of wet hair out of your face. “I… I like you, Y/N. For a really long time, longer than you think.”

He waited with bated breath for your answer. “I like you too, Minho. I've liked you for a while now.”

He couldn't wait anymore. It was obviously too forward of him, but he'd been dreaming of this for way too long, and he wasn't going to let it slip through his fingers again. He pulled your face towards his and crashed his lips onto yours. You let out a muffled sound of surprise, but you reciprocated it, the umbrella falling out of your hands and onto the ground with a thud. Your arms rested on his shoulders while his drifted down to your waist, holding you in an embrace as he tenderly kissed you. Fireworks went off inside him. He could feel the thundering of your heart right above his. The two of you were soaked from the relentless rain, but he could care less.

He broke the kiss, his forehead leaning on yours as he took a few breaths. “Sorry, I just really wanted to do that.” It was a half-baked apology since he wasn't very sorry at all. His eyes were closed, taking in the intimacy of the moment.

“I liked it; don't worry. Just warn me next time, okay?”

Minho couldn’t help but tease you. "Oh, so you want a next time?” He laughed loudly when you hit his arm. “Of course there will be a next time; I plan on giving you many, many kisses.” He planted another one on your forehead to prove his point. He closed his eyes again and hugged you tightly.

Minho's head felt like it was splitting in two. Where was he? He blinked his eyes open, the white light above him causing him to groan. His clothes didn't feel wet anymore, and he was lying down with a white blanket over him. He lifted his hand up, only to see it was bandaged.

“Why—”

Memories of the car crash flooded his mind, and a flash of panic went through him. “No, no, no, no, no.” Was that really just a dream? Were you really gone? He felt tears pricking the corners of his eyes, his chest heaving up and down until—

“Thank God you're awake,” a voice said. He felt a hand brush the hair off of his forehead. The voice sounded too much like yours. But it couldn't be. All of that was in his imagination. 

Then you came into focus, your face filled with worry and your eyes pink, like you'd been crying for a while.

“Y-Y/n?” He lifted his bandaged hand up to your cheek. He needed to know you were real. He let out a sob of relief when he felt the warmth of your skin beneath his palm and then your own hand covering his. “You're here…”

“Of course I'm here, silly. Where else would I be?”

He pulled you onto him, tucking your head into his chest, and kissed the top of your head as a few tears rolled down his cheek. “Thank goodness.” He held you like that for a while, taking in the comforting scent of your perfume mixed in with the smile of your shampoo. “What happened?”

“Your car crashed on your way home from work... you don't remember?”

“That happened?”

“Yeah, the doctor said you had a concussion. You weren't waking up... I was so scared.”

His heart broke at your words. “I'm never leaving you, ever. You can't get rid of me that easily.” You let out a broken laugh and clung onto him. He let out a deep breath and closed his eyes.

Minho was discharged a day later. The doctor said he might experience temporary amnesia due to his head trauma and that he'd regain his memories soon. He still couldn't believe everything that had happened. He'd managed to save you. You were here with him.

The two of you took a stroll in the park, hand in hand, underneath the cherry blossoms trees. “Hey, Y/n?” He said softly, making you turn to him with a soft hum. “I love you.”

You smiled. “I love you too, Minho.”

That was all he needed to hear. A breeze shook the branches of the trees and the sakuras fell once again. He squeezed your hand and continued to walk alongside you as the pink petals and flowers showered on him, and this time, you were by his side. Where you were meant to be.

©hanjsquokka | copying, translating or republishing my work is strictly prohibited

[boop-le-snoot]

masterlist

dirt

sundress+no panties+daryl = uh oh...

title and soundtrack is dirt by depeche mode. you need to take depeche mode away from me tbh, I'm hung up on the exciter album writing smut when I should be making updates to my negan and ironstrange fics.

I also headcanon daryl having huge fat swinging balls for some reason and I'm so sorry you had to read that I turn into an animal when I write daryl

cw: 18+, word count 3k. a little rough (butt slaps, some bites, he calls you a "bitch in heat" and a "slut" a couple of times - lovingly of course), a little pervy (you're fucking outside and daryl eats his own come out of your pussy+breeding kink if you squint really hard).

He reaches in, fingers curling around the bunched up, patterned cotton of the dress and his mind blanks. The low growling, he realises, is coming from his own mouth.

"The fuck, girl?"

You look at Daryl over your shoulder, where the bare skin has erupted in goosebumps from his hot, humid breath. "What?"

You sound annoyed, but there's a distinctive teasing undertone to it. Your eyes are narrowed a little too much. The corners of your cherry-tinted lips are tilted upwards.

"You ripped all my damn underwear, Daryl! What did you expect?" You grouch, breaking the second of still silence. "Can't just take a stroll to Victoria's Secret anymore, can I?" Seeing his face darken even more, you hastily add, "I got a couple I wear on runs."

You sound so cute when you're annoyed, Daryl thinks, but it's overshadowed by his blood rushing in his ears, hot and fast. His cock is still pulsing in his jeans and it demands to be released.

"So you jus' walkin' 'round with allat juicy ass hangin' out fo' all da men to sniff?" Daryl feels an urge to clarify to you, what is exactly you're doing, that he's upset with. "Cuz that's exactly what all them dawgs are fuckin' doin'!" He's jealous, of course he is, but most importantly, he doesn't trust any of the men as far as he can see them.

Hell, he isn't completely sure even Rick would pass on the opportunity to get an eyeful of your soft thighs, your scrumptious ass, or your fat cunt, for that matter.

Lord knows they're the juiciest fucking things he has seen in his whole entire miserable life. Just thinking about it makes his rock hard cock twitch and release a sad dribble of pre-cum in his pants.

"Exactly, your girl!" You declare, eyeroll audible in your voice. "Nobody's seein' me without my panties 'cept you."

Daryl's only response is to hitch up the sundress higher, the movement so quick, the fabric gives a sad crack as the seams threaten to burst. Your ass is still bare, still round and smooth as ever, nobody should have this sort of curves while they're in the middle of a damn apocalypse, he thinks, and sinks to his knees and sinks his teeth into the supple skin of your right ass cheek.

You yelp at the sharp pain. You squirm, your attempt at getting away, of course, futile: your hips and waist are firmly in his grasp. Rough fingertips dig into you, just shy of painful.

"There," Daryl inches back a bit, admiring the indentations left behind by his teeth. For someone who forgets to take care of himself most days, his teeth are surprisingly straight and white and strong. And he lets you feel it. "Now if any asshole decides to go nosin' where he shouldn't, there'll be a warnin'." Daryl sounds proud of himself, which is all and all - fair.

Once the initial shock subsides, your feel your cunt lips stick together even more as your arousal oozes out of them- and down your thighs, now that there isn't any fabric to contain it all. In all honesty, you did enjoy the occasional breeze that would waft up your skirt, even if it didn't offer much respite from the sweltering summer heat.

And Daryl is definitely not helping matters, either. He's like a damn furnace, pressed up against the back of your legs, all solid bulk, breathing hot and moist into your skin, every exhale going around the curve of your ass and disappearing between your legs. He knows it the moment that you shift in place, subtly trying to widen your stance even though there is nothing more you want than to rub your thighs together to provide relief to your swollen lips and throbbing clit.

He raises a hand, wide and open-palmed, and smacks your ass. "You're such a fuckin' slut," he grouses. And your first instinct is to gasp at the offense; you hide your grin in a lip bite. Yes, yes you are. And you know it. And he knows it. Your ass cheek jiggles as he gives it another well-aimed slap. "Lookit you," Daryl presses the issue, "drippin' wet." To hammer his point home, he takes a thick, fat finger and runs it along the seam of your cunt.

It glides easily. You shudder, biting back a moan. Your legs shake just a little, but Daryl notices - he always does - and his finger dips inside your lips. The rough, calloused fingertip swipes through your labia, stopping just short of your clit. You whine and he withdraws.

His numerous knives and tools clatter as he abruptly gets up.

"You wanna be fucked, huh?" Voice quiet, Daryl's front presses to your back with a malicious intent. The prominent bulge of his erection is pushing into your back. "Is that why you goin' round naked? So anybody coulda bend you over, anytime, huh?" He reaches around you, hand blindly nosing for your face. When he finds it, he wastes no time in prying your mouth open, sticking the damp finger inside.

Your own cunt, salty and tangy, blossoms on your tongue. The gesture makes you moan around his finger and him- he sticks another one in, keeping you quiet.

"Shut the fuck up," Daryl orders. The rasp in his voice makes your knees buck and your cunt weep and he knows it. His free hand moves at your back, and with the accompanying noises, you come to realise that he's opening his pants and hurrying to free his dick.

When the damp, silky tip touches the bare skin of your ass, your body reacts before you do. Your mouth wraps tighter around his fingers. Spit dribbles from the corners of your mouth and onto his wrist. Your back arches into his body. He is just as scalding as the sun beaming down from the sky.

Daryl pushes his fingers deeper into your mouth, holding them there until you gag. The motion makes your whole form spasm and shiver; his cock gives a responding jump of its own.

"Lookit you," he rasps directly into your ear, hot breath tickling the shell of it. "Like a fuckin' bitch in heat," he grabs the meat of your ass cheek, spreading you one-handed. His cockhead noses around the cleft, leaving a sticky trail behind itself. It dips near your cunt, adding your juices to the mix. "You want it so bad."

You do. You really, really do. But you know Daryl is mean. You love it when he's mean to you. When he is proud of the strength of his bulk, when his eyebrows draw tightly over his brilliant blue eyes and nothing, absolutely nothing can escape his predatory stare. You crane your neck, trying to look back at him, to plead with your eyes.

He gets it, because he always does. Daryl's fingers quickly leave your mouth, dragging a wet trail of spit down to your neck where his fingers wrap around it in a secure hold.

"You want it so bad, then fuckin' beg," he says the words and you immediately, greedily descend into the permitted depravity.

"Please, Daryl," your voice sounds hoarse, interrupted by hiccups as you struggle to swallow the saliva that had pooled in your mouth and around his fingers, "please, fuck me. I'll be good. Please."

You feel him fist his cock as it twitches; you can't help it, really, as you arch your back even more and push your ass against his rough hand. Immediately, he withdraws it, just to slap you again.

"You're a bitch in heat," he muses, but you can hear the beginnings of impatience in his voice. "Say it!"

He's never made you do that before. Wide-eyed and open-mouthed, you gasp, part shock part offense, until you feel a drop of fluid roll out over the outer lip of your cunt and fall and disappear somewhere below you. Then it's just lust. The kind that tints the whole world red and narrows your field of vision.

"Fuckin' say it!" Daryl demands, patience thin.

You wouldn't put it past him to just shove himself in at this point. "I'm... I'm a bi- I'm a bitch in heat," you hiccup, feeling your face flood with heat. "I'm a bitch in heat, please fuck me!"

You feel his lips tilt up just the tiniest bit against your ear before he reaches back for his cock and aims it at your cunt in a single, precise thrust. You gasp and mewl as he suddenly stops halfway through. Your cunt ripples and flexes and squeezes. Daryl drops his forehead onto your shoulder, panting.

"So fuckin' tight," he murmurs, mostly to himself. You're not - he knows better, he makes sure you're not before he even thinks about sticking it in - but you are. All that blood that went straight to your cunt the moment his breath caught up in his throat at the sight of your bare pussy - It's making your cunt swell all around him.

A pathetic mewl leaves your lips, your satisfaction incomplete. You wiggle, you arch, but Daryl is as unyielding as ever.

"You take what I give you," he growls, teeth bared like an animal against your ear. Nonetheless, you feel the tip of his cock kiss your cervix. Stars burst in your eyes. You are so full, practically bursting at the seam of your cunt where his fat balls rest against the stretched hole.

Slowly, Daryl withdraws, both of you hissing at the drag of his fat cock in your engorged cunt. You may be a bitch in heat but he's every bit the stud that is just as fervent and feral to breed you. His teeth creak as he pulls back completely, leaving just his weeping tip inside of you.

And then he slams home. And again. And again. And again.

With every powerful thrust of his hips, you gasp. Quiet, pleading moans is the limit of your vocal capacity. Mouth dry, the air gets trapped in the back of your throat as your lungs demand their due.

Daryl is unrelenting. His blunt fingernails drag over the skin of your throat, leaving marks in their wake, as he makes way to your mouth.

"This is what you wanted, slut?" He pants into your hair. "Be quiet. Be really fucking quiet unless you want everybody to see what kinda..." He inhales sharply, feeling your walls flutter at the flith dripping from his tongue.

And it shouldn't make you feel the way you feel. Those fucking words just add more accelerant to the fire in the pit of your stomach, spreading it from there and up, over your face. It flames. Your hand helplessly clutches the nearest surface as you attempt to brace yourself against his thrusts and the notion that anyone could see you.

Bent over something or another, dress hiked up to your waist and Daryl's hips pistoning in and out of you at a rapid pace. He didn't bother undressing save for letting his pants hang freely just below his cock and balls. Heavy, fat balls, littered with coarse dark hair, that slap against your cunt and your clit with a resounding smack every time he drives his cock inside of your cunt. The squelching noise it makes is obscene.

Another whine, and your pussy squeezes him once again, blind and hungry for release. You can feel it building steadily, deep within your abdomen.

"Fuck yeah," Daryl growls, "you fuckin' like this, don't 'cha?" He's gotten the hang of it: the dirty talk, he knows exactly how to get under your skin. He's a mean bastard with nothing close to dignity or self-respect. If anyone saw him, rutting into you, little more than two animals, he wouldn't, couldn't stop.

Daryl would stare them down up until his cock swelled and busted, depositing his seed inside your womb.

Your knees feel weak. It's getting harder and harder to keep up with him; seems like every pathetic whimper that leaves your lips only makes him meaner, stronger somehow. The grip of his hand on your hip is bruising. Daryl effectively wears you on his cock, submerging himself into the warm depths of your pulsing cunt over and over.

"Da-Daryl..." You gasp, you moan and you plead.

He doesn't stop. He merely handles you into a different angle, the one that hits that special spot inside of you with every powerful thrust. He is mean, but he is also fair.

"Gonna cream my cock?" He barely makes sense to himself, the words that his dry mouth garbles seem to have a mind of their own. "Gonna be good, girl? C'mon."

"Ah," you want to say yes, you want to affirm, but all that comes out of your mouth are garbled, unintelligible noises of pleasure. But Daryl sees it. It's in the way your arch becomes near-painful, body overtaking your mind. Even the slightest bit of pain blends into hot-blinding pleasure. You don't know where what ends and begins.

It begins somewhere behind your cunt. The contractions start slow and aching, and every punch of his cock to your guts intensifies the feeling tenfold, until every last inch of your cunt is squeezing around him in that same arduous, suckling rhythm. It's like your pussy is nursing at his cock, attempting to suck his life out of him and deposit it into you.

The pleasure is like a wall of fire and water. Your chest blooms with it, but your extremities swarm with pinpricks. Mouth parted in a silent scream, you sway forward, managing to catch yourself on your elbows at the last moment.

The man behind you doesn't care. He's way past caring, having had started chasing his release the moment your cunt enveloped his cock in a vice grip. The meat of it is sensitive and he spends the few inches to the finish line gracelessly mashing it inside of you, accompanied by the sound of wet flesh meeting even wetter, sloppier flesh.

"Take it, fuckin' take it," you hear him gasp through your stupor before that familiar, warm rush floods your cunt. His cock twitches, once, twice, three times, each forceful throb followed up by more and more seed being pumped into the depths of you.

Against your back, Daryl sags and pants out his excerption. Like a dog. His wet nose leaves sweat stains on your back where he nuzzles into you.

Your knees shake as you struggle to hold up his weight, and then your legs completely turn to mush when droplets of his cum escape your cunt as his spent cock slips out. You know you should be worried about stains in unsightly places but somehow, you can't bring yourself to care.

Daryl notices this, of course. His bulk slides off you; you hear him quickly shove himself back into his pants before his ass hits the ground with a loud thud. Next to you, of course, his stubbly, prickly cheek rubbing over the skin of your leg. He places a wet kiss on the inside of your thigh, and then another.

You know the drill. It's hard for him to find words, sometimes, after a scene like that. It's the intensity of it, the forceful ejection of him out of his head where he spends most of the time, that renders him speechless. Daryl is forced to feel - good things. It's not something that he is used to.

Your skirt is still around your waist and the hot sun is shooting lasers directly at your ass and pussy. You've managed to get your bearings enough to feel at least a little self-conscious, a little exposed. Your combined fluid still drip from you and for a split second, you think about pulling up your panties to try and at least somewhat contain the mess.

Right, you sigh to yourself. It makes your exhausted body twitch and sag even more.

Daryl gently pushes away your hand that was attempting to pull the dress over your ass. You freeze; he smiles against your skin, a little closed-lipped grin that makes something warm and fuzzy make a nest inside your chest. That quickly turns into a startled gasp as his fingers glide through the mess of your cunt.

You're spent. Exhausted. So sensitive, his rough skin practically hurts on your hole and clit.

But Daryl gets it. You get him, and he - he gets you. His hot breath fans over your pubic hair and it's all the warning you get before he opens his mouth wide, flattens his tongue and licks. You've made a big mess and there is a lot to take care of, but if there's anything about Daryl that you know, is that he's thorough at what he does.

In no time, he's got his tongue shoved down your cunt as far as it would go, curling against your walls, lapping up his and your cum like your pussy is an all-you-can-eat-buffet and what's inside of it is sugar and spice and everything nice.

But it's not enough. It's not anywhere near your clit, or any other place that could make you produce more of the cream he's feasting on. Idly, you think about who's the real bitch in heat here, but push out your hips to meet his face nonetheless. You can be mean too. If you want to.

I don't know what to say for myself

[papil0nglegs]

this is a stupid request 😭😭

how about Scout x Reader where the reader finds out that Scout can’t read and is just like “…Wait you actually can’t..?” and then just starts teaching him how to read LMAO i just think that be funny, like he’s just reading some easy kids book and the readers just like “Yes! You’re doing so good!”

Smell of books 📔

Scout x reader

A/n: I KNOW I keep using the ladybird soundtrack but I always listen to it whenever working on fics, give it a listen/watch it’s so cute 🙏

Warnings: Overworking, slight spoilers for the outsiders

He thought you were a straight up loser cuz you read books. I mean the last time he ever picked up a book was in 4th grade, hasn’t stepped in a school ever since cuz he had to take care of his siblings.

His comments were always eye rolling, they never really bothered you because it wasn’t anything you haven’t heard from a middle school boys

You always assumed he was able to read since you often catch him laughing at random comic books his brothers mailed to him.

It wasn’t until he was trying to read a sign while you and him were taking a drive back to the base

“Raw-ad work ahead?”

“Babe that says road.”

“Yeah I can’t read my bad”

“But you read comic books all the time??”

“Nuh uh, I just stare at the pictures”

“..scout”

As soon as you got back to the base you dragged him to a desk to teach him

He prefers to study on your bunk bed, reviewing flash cards and notes listening to music

Every time he gets 5 flash cards right that’s a kiss from you, this man is DESPERATE so he’ll learn pretty fast

“Okay now what is detach?”

“To like-leave or something”

“Yes! Omg my little student I’m so proud of you muah”

For the most part he was uninterested because you introduced him to mainstreamed books that was a snooze fest to him, gone with the wind Harry Potter etc.

That was until you read him the outsiders, he got so invested because of course he did

You both took turns reading it to each other, whenever it was one persons turn that person would lay on the others chest

“‘If we don’t have each other, we don’t have anything..’”

“Fuckk, I just got goosebumps toots”

He cries when in THAT part of the book, we all know which

The mercs got creeped out when they caught him re-reading it by himself randomly, it was rare to see him read a book, not a comic book a honest to god book!!

“Bloody hell, you readin’ mate?”

“Uhh yeah, guess I am. What you got something to say aussie??”

Loves it when you praise him for all his hard work, but he does overwork himself. Since he easily listens to you it was easy to get him to stop

“Jer please just take a breather, you’ve been reviewing those things for hours”

“Sorry sorry, I just wanna make ya proud of me Yknow..”

“Aww Jer, I already am. Cmon it’s cease-day, let’s get the rest we deserved”

Ughh 🙁 he loves you so much

[rinsoap]

˚ ༘ ♡⋆｡˚ ﾐ the big inarizaki three's favourite artists!

✿²˖ ࣪ ➣ includes : suna rintaro, osamu miya + atsumu miya

note : THIS HAS BEEN IN MY BRAIN SINCE DAY ONEEE SUNA, OSAMU, IWAIZUMI, MATTSUN, KYOTANI AND SEMI R ALL TYLER STANS LITERZLLY FIGHT ME!!!!

suna rintaro :

!!? ok this man has 100% turned every single one of his friends onto tyler the creator. he likes to say he “discovered” him as if he didn’t have like 300 million streams at the time ?? and tbh he didn’t even discover him iwaizumi put him on 😭😭 but he’s a little liar so 🙅🏼‍♀️ but at least he has good music taste!!!!

his favourite songs by tyler the creator are :

- ARE WE STILL FRIENDS? on the IGOR album.

- FUCKING YOUNG / PERFECT on the cherry bomb album.

- WILSHIRE on the CALL ME IF YOU GET LOST album.

!!? he will NEVER admit it but he LOVES red velvet 😭😭 he is a kpop stan till he dies and he is RIDDEN with guilt. osamu will be making fun of koreaboos (as he should) and suna will be slowly shrinking into his shirt as he starts yelling about how dumb kpop is. he truly would rather die than admit he knows every single lyric to sunny side up!

his favourite songs by red velvet are :

- BYE BYE on the reve festival 2022 birthday EP.

- russian roulette on the russian roulette: third mini album.

- BAMBOLEO on the reve festival 2022 feel the rhythm EP.

——✩⌗ HONORABLE SONG MENTIONS : give you the world by steve lacy. 505 by arctic monkeys. IMPURITIES by le sserafim. yes i’m changing by tame impala.

osamu miya :

!!? he is obsessed with cigarettes after sex! it is truly insane how it is one of the only bands that genuinely makes him cry. like he will be listening to K. with atsumu in the car and atsumu would be groaning like “dude stop with this sad shit its killing the vibe” as a single tear rolls down osamu’s cheek 😭

his favourite songs by cigarettes after sex are :

- john wayne on the cigarettes after sex album.

- affection (single).

- heavenly on the cry album.

!!? OK MAYBEE THIS IS AN UNPOPULAR OPINON but this man is 100% a shameful swiftie. he doesn't know why but he literally will not tell anybody he loves taylor swift like it is his guilty pleasure and for what ???? he loved her in her red era too, he is LOYAL he's been a fan since 2012 dude !!!!

his favourite songs by taylor swift are :

- the very first night [from the vault] on the red (taylor's version) album.

- august from the folklore album.

- i think he knows on the lover album.

——✩⌗ HONORABLE SONG MENTIONS : lovers rock by tv girl. pretty boy by the neighbourhood. apple cider by beabadoobee. SLOW DANCING IN THE DARK by joji.

atsumu miya :

!!? his favourite is chase atlantic because he's a fucking prick LMAO he is a chase atlantic MENACE he plays it everywhere any occasion and frequently LIES ab it??? he'll be like "i'm kind of a fan on the dl you know not that big of a deal haha the music is good but its whatever" and then squeal everytime he sees a tiktok of a concert 😭

his favourite songs by chase atlantic are :

- drugs & money (new mix) on the chase atlantic album.

- HEAVEN AND BACK on the PHASES album.

- goosebumps chase atlantic remix (unreleased)

!!? he will never tell anyone how badly he fucks with olivia rodrigo like he is convinced she wrote SOUR for HIM. he will lock himself in his room, walk to the corner of his room before sliding down the wall in absolute shambles as he screams all of the lyrics blasting through his poor headphones. osamu literally hates olivia for this exact reason he cannot listen to her anymore.

his favourite songs by olivia rodrigo are :

deja vu on the SOUR album.

all i want on the high school musical: the musical: the series soundtrack.

happier on the SOUR album.

——✩⌗ HONORABLE SONG MENTIONS : borderline by tame impala. beef flomix by flo milli. heartless by the weeknd. want u back by cher lloyd.

[justwinginglife]

Does anyone else just get chills from the Kaiju No. 8 soundtrack??? Like all the instrumentals in the background give me goosebumps in the best way possible. I feel so pumped every single time I watch it, which is a lot.

[stormyoceans]

I can't stop listening to the opening of FNoL. It's such an incredible song! I can't remember the last time I didn't skip the opening credits. Those moles on Neil's face! his pleasant voice! (Charles, damn it why don't you sing in all your series!) Xiao Hai's sweet encouraging smile! Their bickering over coffee! Ooooo I'm sooo drowned in this show! But 20 minutes Carl!!!!! Monica thank you for telling me about this series. I feel such an unprecedented surge of love inside me💜🎉

THE WAY I WAS SO SURPRISED AND EXCITED TO GET A FIRST NOTE OF LOVE MESSAGE THAT I BUMPED MY KNEE INTO MY DESK AND ACTUALLY SAW THE PROVERBIAL STARS FSDHFKJDGSFJGSDJ WORTH IT TBH

BUT AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA IM SOOOOO HAPPY YOU STARTED THE SHOW AND THAT YOU’RE LIKING IT ANON!!!!!!!!!!

i could not agree with you more about the opening song, it’s just SO GOOD, but to be fair im so in love with the entire soundtrack of this show, i’ve had it on repeat for a whole week and i still haven’t gotten tired of it!!!!! the song neil sings the very first time he meets xiao hai as a kid is probably my favorite rn, just because i ADORE charles’ voice and that scene in episode 2 with the juxtaposition of neil and xiao hai playing it (LITERALLY GAVE ME GOOSEBUMPS), but again, all the songs are amazing and i think you really can tell that they took a lot of care in making the music for the series. the other night i actually watched this small featurette about it and i love that they worked so hard on the physicality of the actors while they sing and play the instruments too!!!!!!

the funniest thing is. i honestly still have no idea why this series got me so badly, especially since i have a very complicated relationship with taiwanese BLs and im not particularly into age gaps, but for some reason the dynamic between neil and xiao hai just works SO MUCH for me!!!!!! and im once again reminded how subjective chemistry is because i’ve seen a lot of comments saying that charles and michael don’t really have it, or that they have only a platonic kind of chemistry, meanwhile im sitting here clawing at the curtains and climbing the walls of my apartment every time they look at each other because michael as xiao hai has these moments where he’s giving such ‘you were my sexual awakening and i haven’t had a single chaste thought about you since forever’ energies when he’s around neil, meanwhile charles has clearly gone to the jimmy jitaraphol’s school of looking at your co-star with a love so all consuming and full of adoration and a devotion so palpable and plain to see it drives people to the brink of suicide (IT’S ME IM PEOPLE)

and much to my embarrassment i could actually go on rambling about this show for a few more hours but im shutting up rn because this already got way too long ;;;;;;;; BUT YEAH THE EPISODES BEING SO SHORT REALLY IS THE ONLY NEGATIVE THING ABOUT IT (i wanted to watch episode 5 on company's time but I NEED TO MAKE THOSE 20 MINUTES LAST)

HOPING AND PRAYING AND MANIFESTING IT WILL KEEP BEING THIS GOOD UNTIL THE END

[disneyparksattractionstournament]

Extinct Disney Parks and Attractions tournament round 2: Group C

Reminder, you don't have had to experience any of the attractions/experiences to vote! Just read in the info and/or watch the vid,then vote for which you wish you would have experienced more/which sounds cooler!

Videos and propaganda/info dumping under cut

IllumiNations: Reflections of Earth: Epcot (1999-2019)

Propaganda:

Oh boy, here we gooooo. I could go on for hours about this show. It was one of the most unique nighttime shows Disney had, it was so unique to Epcot and didn't have any songs from disney films, which is what the park was suppose to be! Its all original and is so uniting and powerful. The soundtrack is absolutely gorgeous and fully original and gives me goosebumps everytime. Nothing can compare to how powerful it is. And yes, the middle section was a bit slow, especially if you couldnt see the globe well, but I think they should have just updated that part and kept the rest instead of forcing IP into Epcot like the replacement shows. This show was all about nations uniting and every culture being beautiful. From the torches that 'blow out', to all the fire in the middle, to the iconic globe opening with one united torch, to the different countries lighting up, to the jaw dropping finale of huge canon like fireworks coming out of each country area to finish with the brightest finale you will ever see, to the iconic song afterwards (from the Millennium Celebration Tapestry of Nations Parade!). And then Spaceship earth all lite up in purple with the song from Tapestry of Nations parade playing as you exit the park, nothing will beat the magic of that, and I cry every time I remember I will never experience that again. I kid you not, half the reason I did the DCP when I did, was so that I could see the last showing of this! Ill have to find video of me afterwards later xD This was my absolute fav show as a kid and remains so to this day. IN THIS ESSAY I WILL

Red Car Trolley News Boys: California Adventure (2012-2019)

[bluecoolr]

The NO-SKIP Albums: A Tag Game 🎶💖

rules: share the albums that you can listen to nonstop. those lightning in a bottle-albums that scratch ur brain just right. every single track, an absolute banger. u could not skip one if u tried. no notes. stunning, show-stopping, immaculate. ur no-skip albums.

🔎 bonus & optional (but imo, v fun) rules: 1) add a track rec for us to listen to! AND 2) share ur favorite line(s) from that track! 👀

Thank you so much @ace-of-hearts-and-spades @ventiswampwater and @visceravalentines for tagging and thinking of meeee! 🥹💕

No pressure tags: (if you've already done it please ignore me 😅)

@goldrose-star @ajarofpickledtears @probably-a-plant-thing @mintgalaxia @slaasherslut @madbadash @the-pinstriped-hood

1. Glass Houses - Billy Joel

This was one of the first records I bought with my own money.

Check Out: You May Be Right

You may be right I may be crazy Oh, but it just may be a lunatic you're looking for

2. Bram Stoker's Dracula Original Motion Picture Soundtrack

I have this on CD lol. This is very special to me because this is one of my favorite movies ever, and a college friend gifted it to me when she had to move cities. I put it on while reading because the vibes are just delectably evil and eerie 🖤

Check Out: The Beginning

This plays throughout the opening scene of the movie and is just deliciously dark, the swelling crescendo with the choir and sinister whispering gives me goosebumps everytime. It's also perfect for imagining your oc's going through their villain/corruption arc hehe

Check Out: Love Song for a Vampire - Annie Lenox

This track walked so Christina Perri's Thousand Years could run. But seriously, it's such a bittersweet song. The cover by Collin Rae? Ray? I forgot his name is also good.

Oh, loneliness, oh hopelessness To search the ends of time For there is in all the world No greater love than mine

Just PINING. SO MUCH PINING.

3. Gone Now - Bleachers

I don't know what it is about this album, but something in it just scratches my brain right. The sound is very synth-y, but there's a lot of sax and sample overlays that I really like. The whole theme is about death and dissatisfaction with where you are at the moment.

Check Out: Everybody Lost Somebody

I think pain is waiting alone at the corner Tryna get myself back home, yeah Looking like everybody Knowing everybody lost somebody

4. Hozier - Hozier

Need I say more? Zero thoughts when this man comes on for real.

Check Out: In A Week (please for the love of god listen to it)

And they'd find us in a week When the cattle show fear After the insects have made their claim After the foxes have known our taste I'd be home with you I'd be home with you

Check Out: Work Song (cliché but self-explanatory I guess)

I just think about my I'm so full of love I could barely eat (HRRRRGJHKHKK HELLO???)

and

When my time comes around Lay me gently in the cold, dark earth No grave can hold my body down I'll crawl home to her (sobbing actually. Help.)

5. Wasteland Baby! - Hozier

Every song is good but this line from Would That I is just 🤌🏻✨️

I mean?!?!?

True that love in withdrawal was the weeping of me That the sound of the saw must be known by the tree Must be felled for to fight the cold Fretted fire but that was long ago

Anyway, that's it. Thanks for listening to me ramble 🫢😚

[reivrze]

TEASERS ! | TALES OF TIME | masterlist

2023 | 18+ | SERIES | ENHYPEN + OCS

GENRES. coming of age, historical fiction, mystery, romance, joseon dynasty, drama, angst, graphic violence

TAGLIST. open ! send an ask or comment down below to be added ! taglist for each member's story will open soon :)

— author's note : these scenes aren't part of the actual stories but bonus scenes to give the reader an sense of what the stories will be like ! the same type of scene might appear in the stories but won't be written the same way. i don't want to spoil too much :)

WARNING. mentions of blood, angst, but also fluff hehe

— destiny's blade | lee heeseung

"I'm sorry, I just can't help you anymore,” he whispered, looking down at his feet, shame overwhelming him. Jiyeon didn’t comprehend the words coming from him, her heart sinking at the sudden change in his demeanor. She had learned to rely on his support and guidance, and now it seemed like he was abandoning her. Confusion and hurt washed over her as she searched his face for any signs of explanation.

"What do you mean?" Jiyeon asked, her voice trembling with a mix of sadness and frustration. "You can't just give up on me now.” He raised his gaze to meet hers, and she could see the pain etched in his eyes.

“We both know of our circumstances. I can’t be seen around you, it’ll ruin us both.” He said softly, his voice laced with regret. Jiyeon's mind raced, desperately trying to comprehend his words. She had always turned to him in times of need, and now he was telling her that he couldn't be there for her anymore. The weight of his decision settled heavily on her shoulders, and she struggled to hold back tears.

“But… you promised.”

— song of jade | park jongseong

The rain poured down, goosebumps covering their arms and hair dripping wet. they found little warmth as they held each other, hands on each other’s waist, their bodies swayed to an unspoken rhythm, dancing in sync with the beating raindrops. The world around them faded into the background as they focused on each other, finding relief and comfort in their shared moment.

No words were necessary; their bodies spoke a language of their own. The raindrops served as a symphony, creating a serene soundtrack to their intimate dance. It was as if time stood still, and they were the only two souls existing in that moment, wrapped in each other's arms.

In that moment, they knew that no matter what challenges lay ahead, they would face them together, finding strength in each other's arms. The rain may pour, the world may whirl around them, but their dance would endure, an eternal reminder of the power of love and the resilience of the human spirit.

— breaking the cycle | sim jaeyun

“Why won’t you talk to me? I’m sorry that I ruined whatever plan you had of staying alone for the rest of your life but it wouldn’t kill you to at least say good morning once in a while.” Iseul had enough of his mopping around and his blatant efforts to avoid her. He had made a deal and it wasn’t her fault that she had beat him. She needed this, for her and her sister, she couldn’t let them stay in the streets, wondering every day if they would be able to eat that night.

She had confronted him countless times, trying to break through the impenetrable wall he had built around himself. But each time, she was met with silence, his eyes averted, his body tense with resistance.

For a fleeting moment, she saw a flicker of vulnerability in his eyes, a crack in his stoic facade. It gave her hope that he was still there, buried beneath layers of disappointment and resentment. Iseul reached out, gently touching his arm, a silent plea for him to let her in.

"Is it that hard to try?" she whispered, her voice barely audible. "Does the idea of loving me seem so impossible for you?"

— a royal quest | park sunghoon

The palace was a flurry of activity as everyone prepared for the arrival of Prince Park Sunghoon. Yoonji couldn't contain her excitement at the prospect of finally meeting the prince's dear friend, whose name she had been asking herself about for the past few days. She wondered what he was like and what bound them together for her write the letter.

As the afternoon wore on, Yoonji found herself stealing more and more glances in the direction of the prince's friend. His conversation with the prince seemed lively and engaging, and Yoonji couldn't help but be drawn to him. She was intrigued by his easy charm and quick wit, which he effortlessly displayed in his interactions with those around him.

The prince's friend, for his part, seemed to be enjoying Yoonji's attention. He found her little glances and stolen looks endearing, and he couldn't help but reciprocate her interest, stretching his arms out and neck, an attempt to show off his physical attributes such as his sharp side profile and muscles.

— the kitsune curse | kim sunoo

The chilly air had made the night colder than most nights, and Yumiko was feeling the brunt of it. She had been trying to warm herself up by curling into a ball, but it didn't seem to be working. That's when she caught the sight of Sunoo who was sleeping not far from her.

Without a second thought, Yumiko crawled up to Sunoo and lay down close to him, feeling the warmth emanating from his body. She snuggled into his back, and the feeling of his warmth enveloped her. As she lay there, she realized how much she enjoyed being close to Sunoo, his presence making her feel safe and secure.

Sunoo, who was fast asleep, turned around subconsciously and brought Yumiko closer to him, trying to warm himself up. Yumiko, feeling even more comfortable, sighed in contentment and closed her eyes, drifting off to sleep. The two lay there in each other's company, the warmth of their bodies keeping them cozy in the cold night.

— scribe's secrets | yang jungwon

Jungwon and Mina strolled through the streets of the bustling town in silence. The atmosphere between them had turned sour after a recent argument, leaving them both feeling uneasy and distant. The only sound between them was the soft tapping of their shoes on the pavement.

As they approached the town square, a group of performers caught their attention. They both paused, their eyes fixed on the dancers and musicians. The melody and rhythm of the performers' music slowly began to fill the air, and Jungwon found his foot tapping along almost unconsciously.

Mina, still feeling uncomfortable, tried to focus on the performance, but her mind kept drifting back to the argument with Jungwon. She didn't know how to fix things between them or how to move forward. Without looking at each other, their hands slowly crept closer until their pinkies touched. They both froze, unsure of what to do next. It was a small gesture, but it felt significant, like a tiny bridge connecting them.

As the performance continued, they both relaxed and let the music take over. The tension between them began to fade away, and their pinkies remained linked throughout the rest of the performance. For a moment, they forgot about their argument and the world around them. They were lost in the music and the warmth of each other's touch.

— string of fate | nishimura riki

Niki entered the room, sweat glistening on his forehead, and his clothes torn in several places. He had been in a fierce battle that had left him with numerous wounds, including a deep gash on his shoulder and a cut on his left leg. As he leaned against the doorframe for support, he could feel the warm trickle of blood seeping down his body.

Noa saw him enter and rushed to his side. With gentle hands, she helped him to the bed and began tending to his injuries. Niki groaned in pain, his body still sensitive from the battle. However, Noa's touch was soothing, and he tried to relax as she worked her magic. As she focused on his injuries, Noa couldn't help but glance at Niki's face. She had always had a soft spot for him, admiring his bravery and determination. And while she had never acted on her feelings, she couldn't help the thoughts that crept up in her mind.

Niki's groans turned into shouts as Noa tended to his shoulder wound, the pain too much for him to handle. Noa tried to ease his pain, brushing her hand through his hair, and whispering comforting words.

As Niki laid there, feeling the gentle touch of Noa's fingers on his scalp, he couldn't help but notice her gaze on his lips. He had always known that there was something special about their relationship, but he had never acted upon it. He closed his eyes, trying to suppress his thoughts, knowing that there could never be anything between them.

© miyu 2023 - do not copy, translate, repost or plagiarize my work anywhere !

[bisexual-in-denial]

The Plagues Appreciation Post

I am always Frothing at the mouth when I listen to The Prince of Egypt soundtrack, but The Plagues gives me goosebumps to the n-th degree.

The singing dialogue between Moses and Ramses is *mwah* chef's kiss---it's their brotherly relationship losing any chance of reconciliation in song form. Also, the "this was my home," the delivery makes me tear up every time; there's so much longing, grief, and just a touch of rage in Moses' voice. And then, I can hear Ramses' confusion at Moses' actions quickly turns to disgust and wrath in his verse, especially at "then let my heart be hardened / and never mind how high the cost may grow."

Also, the chanting male and female voices in the background (they remind me of angels, using their music to dictate the plagues) is terrifyingly beautiful. And the last chord on "go" also itches the brain in just the right way.

The instrument used in the song also offer deep characterization for the brothers. Different instrument groups are used during Moses' and Ramses' verses. It's primarily strings for Moses with some prominent horn melodies, and it's primarily brass and drums for Ramses but it also has prominent horn melodies. Even though it's orchestra v. band, the horns connect the two brothers, just like how they stand on opposite sides in this conflict, but how their history and previous lives together connects them.

[0nelittlebirdtoldme]

Top 5 Reasons to Watch Dracula :)

I will make this an essay, I swear -

Top 5 Reasons to Watch Dracula (2020)

1. For the first two episodes it is a fairly close adaption to the original Bram Stoker novel Dracula from 1897. Jonathan's arrival on Castle Dracula/Bran. The slow deterioration of his mind. The scene with the letters, Dracula getting handsy and possessive. Jonathan's escape and him finding help by the nuns. Mina finding him there. Dracula's journey on the Demeter, as the crew gets killed off one by one, the Captain's log, the crates of earth... It is all very close to the source material, up to a certain point.

2. The atmosphere. Costumes, set design, props, it all makes my theatre-kid heart leap with joy. They build a whole interor of a castle, up to scale, to film the first episode. The sounddesign and soundtrack is amazing as well. It is scary, it is funny, it is beautiful, it tears at your heartstrings and punches you right in the gut in the very next moment.

3. Dracula and his casting. You'd think seeing an old, creepy man grow younger would kill the mood, but goddamn, Claes Bang is an amazing Dracula. Attractive, charming, funny, snarky, intelligent, powerful, scary, creepy, rather queer and flamboyant (icon, honestly) and intruiging at the same time. He played the roll really well. Overly so, even.

4. The humor. Yes, the vampire puns are on the nose, but they work, and fit the dark comedy vibe that they go for at times with this adaptation. "You are what you eat," "You're a monster! / And you're a lawyer. Nobody's perfect." Seriously, give me a break!

5. Wolf!Drac. Honestly, the scene in which he sheds the wolf's skin is worthy of a nomination on it's own. The practical effects are simply stunning, seeing him, crawling out of the animal's carcass and pelt. The body horror and gore still makes me grow goosebumps every time. Also, the scene results in Dracula bearing himself to a whole monastery, standing naked, covered in blood, in front of the gates which he cannot pass, an army of wolves in his back. Slay. Literally.

Ask Game Here

[faith-alhazred]

@peterlorrefanpage enlisted me for '9 albums you listen to' and it's kinda challenging, as i am not actually album person, more 'listen this dozen song for the next two years' person 😂 but i will try my best.

1. 'Addicted to Bad Ideas: Peter Lorre's Twentieth Century' by The World/Inferno Friendship Society.

Must have of every Peter Lorre fan, i guess. Speaks to my soul.

2. 'Devil's Dozen' by Fiddler's Green. As well as 'Heyday' and '25 Barney Roses'.

Music, that charges me with energy. 'Perfect Gang' is the song that i use to explain to my players which vibe there would be in Dead But games (Dead But is my own PbtA TRPG about living dead who leave their graves to go to the party or club).

3. 'Wolfrider's Reflection' by Julia Ecklar

As well as a few records of Julia, that wasn't included to that album. I grew up on ElfQuest comics and i feel deeply bounded to this universe. 'Going Back' gives me goosebumps every single time.

4. 'Pirate for the Rum' by Stormfrun. I found this album a few years ago, during one of the most stressful periods in my work life, and it really was like that 'and the new man was chosen to lead our raging crew - but this man is a woman, i'm telling you it's true'. Yeah, it's me. I am the woman.

5. 'Father of Invention' by Professor Elemental. It's time for a confession - i really like rap. I love rhythm, i love when a performer not just sings, but talks to you, buuuut. I am absolutely not into american 'money, bitches, drugs' rap, so when i encountered chap-hop, where on the place where you'd expect 'f*** off, b****' goes 'I am terribly sorry for the inconvenience, sir' - it was immediately sold to me.

6. 'The Vampyre at the Harpsichord' by Verne Langdon. Oh my, this guy is brilliant. His music has the right vibe of a vintage horror movie. Also I use one of his tracks as my basic rington.

7. 'Ooky Spooky' by Aurelio Volraire. Another guy with a great sense of humor, this particular song is hilarious.

8. 'Boo York', Monster High motion picture soundtrack. Another fandom i am into, catchy energetic songs that speak to me a lot.

9. 'Komik' by Komik Mashrabov. That's very local thing. When i was working in a hotel there was a courier guy, tajik, very modest and polite. But after I told him i quit in two weeks, he got much more friendly, and it turned out he not just a courier, he is also a rapper and stand-up comedian. His 'modest guy' social mask was broken, he was always a fountain of improvisation, jokes and awkward flirt. I still excited how dramatically his personality changed in such short time. So, he gave me couple of his tracks, and still i listen to them time by time, trying to improve my tajik listening (still can't get anything but couple of words, honestly). Also he has really good voice and know how to use it.

Well, that's all, folks 😁

I have only couple of mutuals here, and two of them have already joined the flashmob, so i can tag only @ilovemesomevincentprice - absolutely no pressure, though 🌿

[littlebittyhollowbugs]

1, 8, and 15 for the ask thingie?

1- my favorite song is a hard one I love the whole soundtrack to pieces, but I have particular fond memories of hearing Greenpath, the dung defender and especially sealed vessel for the first time.

When I entered Greenpath my first playthrough, was when I think I really fell in love with the game. And the music played big part in that. It gives big studio Ghibli vibes and it feels cozy but adventurous all at once. I will never forget that moment.

Dung defender I heard first actually while watching my sister play, and it was the first boss fight I remember where the music immediately stuck out to me. It captures knighthood and honor so well. and it's one (big) aspect of that fight that makes it so much fun. That and Ogrim's cheerful, playful demeanor.

Sealed vessel though! Sealed vessel was actually the very first song I heard, and I had saved it to a playlist of mine. (To help inspire my writing.) Years before I even got into hollow knight. So my brother actually bought the game the year it came out for his birthday and he and my little sister were obsessed with it for a while, I had no interest. (Didn't really play video games at all back then.) but I always really loved the art style and the vibes of the game, and I would listen as they told me about whatever bits of lore they could figure out. Anyway at one point my brother was showing me some video that had the sealed vessel soundtrack in the background and I went to look it up and save it later because THAT. SONG.

Especially the build up near the end, I get goosebumps every time. TO. THIS. DAY.

It always deeply impressed me, but now, after playing the game, and having the context for it, it makes it hurt so much worse. I will quite literally tear up if I am listening to it without distracting myself. (And the first time I heard it in game, was also while watching my sister play. At the time I did not have all the context and this was before I became obsessed, I still was tearing up though, you have no idea how distressed I was watching that fight.)

Moving on to question,

8- My favorite enemy probably lore and character design-wise, I'd have to say the mantises. I actually struggled so much in both the mantis tribe and queens garden because of them. (I was terrible my first playthrough tbh I've gotten so much better but it was fun) but I love them so much. (I'm obsessed with mantis tribe lore actually. I don't ever talk about it here, but my sisters and I have tons of headcanons and theories anyway) The traitors were annoying but they make the queens garden area so interesting and I've gotten a ton better at dodging their attacks. and walking through the mantis village after defeating the mantis lords and gaining the respect of the tribe, it's so cool. I love bowing back to them. I love them.

Also really love like, all of the mosskin. The mosscreeps are adorable and the one moss knight standing by the lake of Unn, love that guy especially.

15- Least favorite boss? Honestly, I really don't like fighting any of the dream warrior bosses. At least not after beating them once. I play in the godhome a lot and they are some of the few bosses I just, don't ever replay. Not because they are really that hard for me, actually the bosses that have taken me the most tries to beat (watcher knights, sentinel Hornet, PV, NKG ect.) are some of my favorites in the game. They're just the most.. tedious? The most annoying? I guess. And they aren't even really bad, just in comparison to other bosses in the game you know? And the characters themselves and the character designs and whatnot I find really interesting, but the boss fights themselves, Not the most enjoyable.

Wow, those are some long replies XD thanks for the ask! I love any and all excuses to talk about this game.

[khaleesiofalicante]

thanks for the movie rec. I've actually seen Magadheera as well (more than once lol) and I loved it too. And yes, the character played by Ramya Krishnan was iconic as fuck. Sivagami was the ultimate boss bitch. I really liked Devasena (the one played by Anushka Shetty) too. There's another south Indian fantasy/royal movie,which I liked- Puli. It has Vijay and Shruti Hassan. And yes,I agree with you the soundtrack of Bahubali is ICONIC AND IT SLAPSSS. Like the Mahishmati anthem, the song which is played when Prabhas climbs the waterfall, and all the others all are so good and literally my favourites

SIVAGAMI WAS SO CUNTY. I LOVED HER.

I really liked Devasena too. She was a fave 🥹

I've not watched Puli. I should probably check it out. I don't like Shruti Hassan dsjknfks.

AND YES THAT SONG IS SO GOOD. That entire soundtrack is so chilling and gives me goosebumps every time.