#u dont understand how thrilled i am

[rosemarie333]

Astro Observations/Opinions (Tropical Edition🫶🏾🫶🏾)

Hello Guys! Since I have done a vedic edition observations, I now want to do a tropical astrology one. I apologize if I confused anyone with my vedic one, i’m not too well versed in it buttt I AM WELL VERSED IN tropical astrology though hehe😈

These are my opinions/observations so LOVE IT OR HATE IT😋😗

Anyways let’s get started

1. Scorpio moons at their worst are FUCKING CRAZY. like extremely obsessive, extremely closed and narcissistic and just overall painful to be around. y’all can lowkey suck the life out of everyone lol likeeeeeee no joke. I have met many scorpio moons that are hella abusive but I know that’s not the majority. Other wise y’all are great to be around but baby as a Leo moon I CANT KEEP dealing with moon square moon synastry 🥺

2. Sag moons are sooo fickle and flighty like it’s not even funny. THEY WILL TELL A PERSON OFFFF but sometimes they be fake as hell. Very adventurous and THRILL SEEKING and they honestly put themselves into situations that are harmful just for the thrill of it. Very wise but sometimes their wisdom goes RIGHT out the window when it comes down to it.

3. Aries suns and venus placements can be veryyyy selfish imo. Like they are super independent but bc they are they really care less to think about others when achieving certain things. But are very understanding when you come to them and are very willing to listen. It’s kinda like they want what they want and they will do anything to achieve it despite the cost, and like GIRLIE POP GO OFF but at the same time u gotta be considerate of others. But EXTREMELY LOYALLL to their loved ones absolutely!! I love y’all and love y’all FIESTY energy.

4. I’m sorry but debilitated and fall mars (libra and cancer mars) have wayyy worse anger issues than ur normal scorpio/aries mars. Like they hold shit in and they are very passive so they won’t tell u did something wrong but they will be snarky and passive aggressive as hell to let you know and like BABESSA U CAN TELL ME NO NEED TO BE PASSIVE AGGRESSIVE ASFFF. Maybe it’s bc i’m a libra rising and mars in the 1st and 10th are just hella aggressive for no reason sometimes. My ex would randomly yell at people for the wrong reasons (he was a libra mars) and tbh i kinda don’t care for it like. (btw i’m a pisces mars so HEHEHE i can be passive aggressive as well so i def need to learn how to have boundaries but as people can’t handle scorpio or aries anger, i can NEVER deal with a libra or cancer bc imo they blow shit out of proportion all the fucking time) understandable as to why but idk that’s just my experience

5. Saturn in the 3rd house when they are upset with you they can be so demeaning at times. like when you don’t know something they are the types to be so unconsciously demeaning and kind of rude at times. ( like for instance if you were to ask them a question about a topic that they know they willl look at u and respond to u like ur dumb asf like 🥺🥺🥺🥺) they are very smart tho and they sometimes feel like they aren’t but like U ARE BABY DONT LISTEN TO THE OTHERS THAT hate on ur intelligence like y’all are very smart but can also be passive aggressive at times 💀

6. Scorpio Venus or having Pluto in the 7th house YALL ARE SOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO CLINGY!! I love it tho for others that love it but y’all are veryyyyyyyyyy possessive (like if someone looks at y’all’s partner y’all prob imagining ripping their throat out like LMAO i understand tho). very loyal to their partner and can sometimes unhealthy dedicate all of themselves to them and nglll me don’t care for that but i understand bc y’all become so consumed with them bc of how intense y’all love and I LOVE IT but baby also have a life of ur ownnn lol (most of y’all do but sometimes y’all don’t) but y’all lowkey hypocritical tho sometimes imo

7. Sage and pisces literally are the ONLY ONES (other than scorpio maybe) imo that can do high dosages of drugs and wake up and be okay like ????? IM SO JEALOUSS bc i have virgo in my 12th and when i get high i get really paranoid and anxioussss so but with y’all having either in the 12th or even calm signs like taurus and fire placements imo y’all are built different like LMAO i loveee that for y’all tho

8. Capricorn moons aren’t cold at all lol they are very much crybabies like cancer moons, if a cap moon isn’t being emotional towards u then maybe they don’t feel safe enough yet or maybe they don’t consider you close enough to them (no shade). They are like scorpio moons tho imo when they at their lowest they can be hard to be around but YALL ARE SO MATURE AND i hate that for y’all like be reckless i know saturn may get u karma but sometimes y’all LIMIT yourselves so fucking much like baby you deserve the world. Look at the world in a scarcity mindset (unless it’s money or if they have fire placements ehh they not so scare thinkers)

9. Virgo placements are extremely shamy imo. Like they are very critical at times and they will SHAME u if ur doing something that isn’t “common sense” in their eyes. like baby i know u didn’t have the space to make mistakes without critical advice but at the same time do u really have to be shamey towards everyone else? but tbh they are the true leo’s in disguise and ABSOLUTELY give them their flowers bc acts of service means so much to them and the most mainstream people have virgo placements (attention to detail is so critical which is why they thrive and succeed) but y’all kinda use that as a scapegoat to be very shamey and critical towards others. I have a love and hate relationship with y’all lol 12th synastry 😭😩

10. IN REGARDS TO 12th house synastry, it’s so ass. Like THE PERSON U SHARE IT WITH WILL COME IN UR DREAMS AND BE ON UR MIND FOR NO FUCKING reason and for someone who takes a little while to move on from things (fixed dominant LOL but i’ve gotten a lot better) BABY I DONT NEED YALL TO BE IN MY DREAMS. lowkey i feel like 12th house synastry people lowkey get under ur skin for no reason and if that’s so imo it’s either because they are acting or responding in ways you do as well and is afraid to admit bc y’all mirror each other or it can genuinely be resurfacing things that remind u of things and trigger u (i feel like that’s the 8th house synastry ofc bc 12th house is hidden fears and repression so i’m kinda assuming it would be the same with the 12th lol hmu if you have other opinions😋😋😋🫶🏾)

last one hehehe

11. Libra placements please stop being people pleasers BABY ONCE U CREATE BOUNDARIES FUCKKKKK how others feel bitch bc when u don’t tbh y’all get super resentful and tbh who wouldn’t. libra placements really are only nice to keep the peace and to be likable but either or libra y’all will have haters regardless so instead of fearing it y’all should embrace it more. Remember the saying that if u don’t have haters u ain’t living in ur truth (ITS A 50/50 STATEMENT TBH it’s true but not being used in the sense of being problematic) but y’all can’t please everyone so instead of giving yourselves the headache, let go of the notion that if your liked everything will be okay when it’s not. and wanting to be liked and keep the peace isn’t a serving attitude it’s kinda selfish bc we’re really doing it for ourselves more than others (IM SHADING MYSELF HERE but i know y’all can agree but that doesn’t make us bad people we’re just flawed asf). BUT BABY GROW A BACKBONE ONCE YALL DO OMFAGSGSGSGSGSGS y’all are so fucking unstoppable and serve cunt energy hehehe

That’s it for tropical! Hope y’all like it!

[ahedderick]

i think its so cool u farm ur own meat!!! i rly try to stay away from the stuff j bc the industry is so messed up so i wish i had a farmer or invasive species-hunter buddy (saw a video of a guy who traps feral pigs who said hes "totally bored of bacon") so i can have a lil feast w/o feeling so guilty. how do you think eating an animal you personally knew is different? like, does it feel sad, or better because you know they had a nice life? sorry for all the questions per my username i am a vegan and i dont ever rly get to talk to ppl like you!

Ok, hi! Thanks for the questions. I have a dear friend who is primarily vegetarian, and only eats meat if it is either raised in good conditions (like my farm) and humanely killed or wild game. So I understand your position. I grew up on a farm and have been living this way all my life, so I'm sure that affects how I view butchering.

The beef and turkeys I have raised for butcher did have excellent lives and the quickest of deaths. The deer or squirrels we hunt follow the same pattern. I would be thrilled to know someone who hunts feral hogs, but I guess we are fortunate that those are extremely rare (or just rumors) around here. I would like to raise more of our own meat, because I agree that the farming industry is atrocious. It is mildly sad in some cases, or a relief if the animal is a mean one (side-eyeing the murderous turkeys)

I have a book I want to cite, Wild Animals I Have Known by Ernest Seton Thompson, copyright 1898. I'll have to scan the forward later and reblog this with it. It is relevant because he notes, from his own naturalist observations, how tragic the natural deaths of animals often are to our human sensibilities. Quick, painless deaths are precious few in nature.

"The worst that can happen is you can be hanged. No, a merry life and a short one shall be my motto." Black Bart Roberts

[starheirxero]

XEROXEROXEROXEROXEROXEROXERO!!!!!

IT'S HAPPENING- THE STORM IS SLOWLY BREWING-

AND LUNAR SEEMS TO BE IN THE MIDDLE OF IT- I AM GOING TO START CHEWING ON MY WALLS/POS-

YOU DONT UNDERSTAND, HOW FERAL THE IDEA OF A CORRUPTED LUNAR MAKES ME-

I HAVE BEEN HYPERFIXATING ON THIS CONCEPT SINCE I WATCHED THE EPISODE- I WAS INCAPABLE OF DOING LITERALLY ANYTHING ELSE-

I AM ON MY HANDS AND KNEES, BEGGING FOR THIS TO BE ABSOLUTELY BONE CHILLING-

LUNAR HAS SO MUCH POTENTIAL AS A BAD GUY- LUNARA ALONE IS PROOF OF THAT-

And Rez… THEY ARE SO COOL???

I DON'T KNOW, HOW TO DESCRIBE IT, BUT THEY GIVE OF THIS AIR OF INTIMIDATION-

THEY ARE ACTUALLY CHILLING, AND I LOVE THE IDEA OF THEIR DESIGN-

Also- Listen- The amount of tension between Lunar and Rez… The amount of power difference… The way, Rez pulled them close and started talking in an almost seductive voice…

I AM FEVERISHLY POINTING AT THIS- PLEASE TELL ME, I'M NOT THE ONLY ONE WHO SEES THIS-

I can't help but imagine their purple void to like- Come out of their hood and encircle Lunar-

AND IF THIS WASN'T ENOUGH, WE'RE GETTING PUPPET LORE!!!

It's absolutely fascinating and heartbreaking!

It also gives us the interesting perspective of a sentient animatronic being possessed! It seems that the real Puppet was trying it's hardest to keep Charlie safe, going to the lengths of destroying everything and everyone keeping that goal out of its reach!!!

I am enamored-

-Stardust

RIGHT?!?!?!?!

I KMOW INKNOW I KMOWIWIAGAIAHKD IM SO EXCITED AT THE IDEA AAAAAHHHHHHHHHH!!!!! I don't know if the show actually will but I'm like honesgly super hoping we at least get like, a half-corrupted Lunaf because GAAAHHHHH I WANT IT SO BAD PLEASEEEEE HAHAHABAJABJDB I WILL BE FED FOR DAYS

YEHSYEYSYWS YOUR POINT ABT LUNAR AND LUNAR AHHHHH LITERALLY LITERALLY LITERALLYYYYY!!!!!! ESPECIALLY IN A SITUATION WHERE LUNAR MAY HAVE TO LOOK GEMINI IN THE FACE AFTER THEY SWITCH SIDES?!?!!????? AUAGAGGAFAGADAGARAGDAFAEAG

AND OHHHHH MY STARS YEAH DON'T EVEN GET ME STARTEDDD ON REZ, THEY HAVE ME ENRAPTURED.

Exactly like u said, they're just so INTIMIDATING. There's something about how they keep a cool, almost lighthearted tone as they speak that just gives the inherent feeling of "ohhhh there is something very wrong with this fellow!"

AND THEY ABSOLUTELYYYYY HAVE TENSION ABAHAHAHHAA THE WAY REZ SAID "I CAN A LOT OF THINGS. MANY THINGS. THINGS THAT TERRIFY YOUR ASTRAL FRIENDS." LIKE 😳 SUBTLE Y'ALL SUBTLE AHABHAHAISHAKDHS I want them to interact more in the future I am OBSESSEDDDDDD

AND THE PUPPET LORE YAYAYAYAY!!!!!! Oh my stars I've been absolutely THRILLED about all the etails we've finally been getting and YEAH YEAH THE WAY PUPPET N CHARLIE ARE SET UP ARE SO AOUGGHHH !!!! I am so enamored on several different levels forever

[eyesontheskyline]

god you are so right, im so glad you are writing for hotchniss bc this is the first time i’ve seen someone get into all the details about them and i am thrilled!!!! I cant believe i forgot about Minimal Loss… To me that is a situation where as a team of profilers they have to be on top of their game, and season wise, its the 2nd time a character gets tortured or hurt and the others witness it (reid first, then emily, 3rd time if u also count elle) So hotch’s reaction when emily gets beat up is just insanity to me. The man who never loses composure, who always keeps a stone cold face even when he is in the middle of a divorce, with tears in his eyes and feeling helpless- Like that happens then and we never see hotch losing composure like that during a case involving the team (ofc the foyet arc doesnt count) so yeah i totally see your point and i agree!!!

With them its like they are always toeing the line of something more, its a tension that i can always feel with them and while i respect people whose cup of tea isnt hotchniss, I dont get how they dont see the insane ass chemistry

Ahhh thank you, I'm having the best time getting back to them. I don't think it had ever occurred to me to ship at all until Minimal Loss, like I just wasn't around fandom at all, so I didn't watch things with that kind of eye? But that just sent me down a rabbithole and I'm still wandering around in the warren now lol.

I definitely think a lot of writing / directing / acting choices were made that point to Something More, and there's also just the twin-flame-ness of their characters. Like they're very similar in a lot of ways that I think would make them understand the parts of each other that would be hard to share with someone else, but also different enough (like, Emily is naturally tactile, and different things get under their skin) that it wouldn't be an inevitable disaster the way too-similar pairings sometimes are.

I think they have a lot to offer each other at any point in the timeline and that is VERY FUN FOR WRITING.

[lostfracturess]

omg nici i just read s&c and wanted to share my thoughtss w you <33

i freaking loved reader’s lil mental breakdown er i guess intrusive thoughts at the beginning during the aneurysm surgery, it was so realistic for the thought process as someone kind of derailing and when she came to the realization that she might be just as much of an adrenaline addict as satoru is i was GAGGED…like satoru really is getting inside her head (and i was doubly gagged when i realized SHE was literally inside someone ELSE’s head mid surgery) and idk if that was meant to be intentional or not but idc good grief you’re a genius nici i can’t praise you for it ENOUGH

Yet, with each precise maneuver, the thrill intensified. There was a sick satisfaction in holding that much power, in the knowledge that one wrong move and this fragile existence could be snuffed out in an instant.

i also LOVED this part so so so much. it’s no secret that surgeons are often to most egotistic n narcissistic people out there, and the way you describe it here, of a person having the control over a person’s life and how instead of frightening, sometimes that’s exhilarating in a self affirming way…love it. and then when you said too bad it wasn’t enough of a thrill for satoru…GAGGED AGAIN. but it’s curious too how you also mentioned he has no control over his own life, despite having so much control over others as his profession as a surgeon. i’m just— god ALL the parallels within such a short amount of time i am so fucking BLESSEDDD

AHHHH i had it spoiled in an ask you answered that suguru had feelings for reader and omg 😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫 ok i love s&c gojo but im SORRYYYY NICIIII I JUST THINK S&C SUGURU IS THE MAN FOR MEEE 😫😫 my heart really broke for reader though, where she was so close to helping someone she loves but suguru got in the way of it all. but i also understand suguru, bc he’s known gojo so long, i wonder if he just thinks gojo is beyond help at this point

There were other battles to save your strength for. And the battlefield of Satoru's furrowed brow and those piercing blue eyes that bore into you was a battlefield that already took all your strength.

im gonna CRYYY also omg if gojo knew about her fathers death day n thats why he wanted to push it back…i will be so soft aaa. WHY IS HE ALSO THE PERFECT MAN i cant i mean i guess he’s not PERFECT perfect but idc i can fix him i swear xD no but seriously having two hot doctor men lookin out for meeee 🤞🏼😫 reader failing those classes is also such a mood LOL. reader’s panic attack was also so well written omg.

Hypocritical, maybe, after your breakdown, but you didn't want his protection, not in this way. You wanted to fight your own battles, for better or worse. Stubborn pride — a desperate denial of how the grief, the unrelenting struggle, chipped away at you.

i LOOOOVE reader’s personality so fucking muchhh. she always stands up for herself even after pitfalls and shortcomings n i love that it’s not a delusional confidence but a self aware one.

"I know," he said, burying his face against his shoulder for a moment. "Just because we can't be together...It doesn't mean I've stopped loving you."

im gonna CRYYYYYYYY why dont u just RIP MY FUCKIN HEART OUT INSTEAD i physically felt this in my chest. omg their conversation here was so aghshdhdjd the ANGST. reader saying she didnt deserve what satoru did to her broke me. but i also love how sorta soft soken this convo is? no yelling at one another, or screaming, or insults that cut deep bc they know eachothers insecurities. its just so in contrast to what we saw w them in the last chapter and i think it’s nice they have this range of communication but also it shows just how exhausted the two of them are because of all the failed history btwn them ahhhhhh. also i cackled so hard when gojo said i love u but reader said i hate u pls xD they are so iconic

omg maki is a real one frrr she is a NO BULLSHITTER 🤞🏼🤞🏼i loved the convo reader had w her friends!! and the line ab the heart holding onto hope even when it’s not the most rational was so raw n real. i’m glad reader at least has different perspectives

i freaking love the science jargon so damn much omg 🙏🏼😫 i have forgotten absolutely everything from my degree but it slowly comes back to me when i read s&c and that makes me so excited. i swear when im a doctor someday imma come back n read s&c and be like gat dayum nici really did her damn research!! xD no but just in general i think the glioblastoma research is really interesting bc its such a challenging cancer to target and has such high mortality rate, BUT ALSO the thing they’re talking ab with the t-cells to create a fake immune response to attack the tumor cells (im assuming thats what theyre talking ab lol) is so cool and i think thats the basis of immunotherapy which actually has really promising clinical trials going on rn for cancer treatment which is so super excitinf!! would i sound lame if i asked you for the papers you looked through for this chapter xD ALSO BLOOD BRAIN BARRIER MENTIONED LETS GOOO genuinely one of the coolest fuckin things in biochemistry PLS AND THE CYTOKINE STORM NIKI PLEEASEEEE NEVER STOP W THE MEDICAL JARGON IN S&C IF THE MEDICAL JARGON HAS NO FANS IM DEAD its genuinely so interesting i get to learn ab breakthrough oncology research AND i get to fuck my fave?!! 😫🙏🏼 god bless u fr

edit: PLS YOU GAVE THE DOI BAHAHA also sorry i just saw u said not to interact w the science material LOL my bad i am just so excited rn i miss studying so bad

side note i love when ur satoru goes “ha?” like he’s so sexy for that and it’s so incharacter for him PLSLDFJH also damn he called us stupid woman AND reckless idiot in one chapter ✋🏼😔 like ok damn im dumb what about it?!?!????!??🤨🤨awwiie stopp im so soft for gojo rn he’s like practically cradling her to sleeeppp 😭😭😭 also PLSSS reader sleepily chanting the research is so real bahha like when u pull an allnighter for an exam n only have like a couple hours to sleep

nooooo omg reader visiting his grave is so sad :( and the fact she never even got to say GOODBYE…..im so sad. i love the underlying theme of grief in this chapter and also ADORE the depth you’ve given to reader sm. coming back here after reading the author’s note—PLSSS do not hesitate or worry to ass depth to the reader’s character!! i get the same way in my writinf where im like oh its an x reader no one cares to read ab the reader’s backstory but no it adds sm more to the story and only strengthens the narrative as well as the romance n connections within the story!! like bae if u want me to have a traumatic past then i’m here for it xD

omg the interaction w readers mom was going so well n cure n then i audibly gasped when she switched from sweet faced to rude at the mention of the research. its so sad how her mother is in denial, but i love how theres a contrast in the different ways that people grieve in a family. “i know she lost her husband, but i lost my father. i was grieving too.” AHHHH this is so painfully good, i love it <33 i really do love how reader chose herself in the end. learning to care for someone that is grieving i think can turn into codependency really fast, and i admire she took a step towards her career rather than staying back in a place that wasn’t healthy for her. but obv i feel for the mom too, it mustve been really hard to be left alone like that. i hope she can work her relationship out w her mom :””) i love everything satoru is saying to her rn, he’s so incredibly emotionally mature, and i really understand why reader believes in him n wants him to be better. he’s a great man that just needs a little bit of saving 😭❤️

OH MY GOSHHHHHHHHH the scene w satoru’s ROMANTIC SOLILOQUYYY my fucking heart he is so bridgerton man coded 🙏🏼😭 like the part where he talks about hsi HEART and his SOUL like DAMn thats on par w anthony’s speech to kate YOU ARE THE BANE OF MY EXISTENCE AND THE OBJECT OF ALL MY DESIRESSS 😫😫🤞🏼🤞🏼 i need this man so bad omg shonda rhimes NEEEDSS to adapt s&c pls i’ll pay from my own pocket xD also reader randomly coming up w a breakthru for her research while she’s gettin the most romantic speech or her life is so fuckin funny n she’s so real for that AHAHAH and the futon bit was sooo cute

ALSO ALSO ALSO

I FREAKING LOVE THIS PART i love a little age gap romanceee n this was soooo hehehehe 🥴🤭 like yesss bb do declare how you have more wisdom on meeee now pls fuck me 🤞🏼😫

ughh the way he’s so domestic w reader’s mom is giving HUSBAND VIBESSS LIKE HELLOOOO THAT’s ur MOTHER IN LAW RIGHT THERE. also aw he convinced her mom to try therapy?? i fucking cant 😭 he is just 10/10 man in this chapter i want to sobbb when is it my turrnnn i want to marry him so bad

HELPDKDJHDHD WAI TWHAT HE ASKED FOR HER HAND IN MARRIAGE IM THAT CAME OUTTA NOWHERE LOL THE WHIPLASH I JUSt EXPERIENCED ICANT HAHAHA

wow i loved this chapter!! so much happened and it was all just S tier writing, S tier dialogue, S tier everything. i loooved the constructive conversations in this one, w reader’s friends, and w suguru, and w the mom, just soooo much about all the characters relationships w one another revealed in such subtle n powerful ways. HONESTLYYY i think this is my FAVORITE chapter of s&c so far, so marvelous :””) thank you SO much nici for all your hard work n care n effort you put into this story, you’re such a queen. much love from me ❤️

okay first, sorry for the late response, but i wanted to have enough time to reply to your message with the same amount and detail that u spend to send me this incredibly sweet message bc u deserve it !! you know, u have no idea how happy this makes me :'')) (but like as a writer yourself, you know the feeling when your heart is basically exploding we you see others obsess over small details in your writing like yourself, right ?? it's really the best feeling ever) <33

when she came to the realization that she might be just as much of an adrenaline addict as satoru is i was GAGGED…like satoru really is getting inside her head

yees, she slowly loses her own mind hahaa. and i wanted to show it there a little bit, that she slowly comes to the realization, that her motives why she does this medical thing might not be as altruistic as she thought and maybe she is just a little bit more like satoru than she wants to admit, oh myyyy hehe.

it’s no secret that surgeons are often to most egotistic n narcissistic people out there, and the way you describe it here, of a person having the control over a person’s life and how instead of frightening, sometimes that’s exhilarating in a self affirming way…love it.

think it's kind of unrealistic to say they just do it because they're altruistic, and i think it also has something to do with canon satoru, like he enjoys the thrill of combat and so does s&c satoru with like the thrill of surgery (and s&c reader too).

and then when you said too bad it wasn’t enough of a thrill for satoru…GAGGED AGAIN. but it’s curious too how you also mentioned he has no control over his own life, despite having so much control over others as his profession as a surgeon.

yeesss !! loved that part too <33 i think that's also why he clings to his surgeries and addiction so much, bc it gives him some illusion of control even tho it's like the exact opposite.

ok i love s&c gojo but im SORRYYYY NICIIII I JUST THINK S&C SUGURU IS THE MAN FOR MEEE 😫😫

ellie, stay strong for our blue eye princess !!! don't let yourself get distracted !!! ahhhhh !!!

my heart really broke for reader though, where she was so close to helping someone she loves but suguru got in the way of it all.

yes, it must have felt like the biggest betrayal. like, of course suguru had only good intentions but when u fight so long for someone to finally trust you, for him to accept your help and then it gets snuffed out in an instant ?? must feel devastating.

but i also understand suguru, bc he’s known gojo so long, i wonder if he just thinks gojo is beyond help at this point

yes, he does think that.

i LOOOOVE reader’s personality so fucking muchhh. she always stands up for herself even after pitfalls and shortcomings n i love that it’s not a delusional confidence but a self aware one.

ahhh, that makes me so happy !! i never know how readers react to it, and if it makes sense to others, so i'm SO GLAD that you understand what i wanted to transpire with her personality :'')) <33

omg their conversation here was so aghshdhdjd the ANGST. reader saying she didnt deserve what satoru did to her broke me. but i also love how sorta soft soken this convo is? no yelling at one another, or screaming, or insults that cut deep bc they know eachothers insecurities.

i LOVED writing this conversation !!! like it's so vulnerable it had me clutching my heart while writing ngl. reader understands him so deeply that she is so soft with him, despite her anger that is still very prominent there, but she swallows that anger to not force him to apologize to her or hurt him even more.

like she has every right to do so, and still chooses different. but then again, the anger is still there and she needs to say it one time, that she is indeed hurt and that it was indeed unfair of him.

but also it shows just how exhausted the two of them are because of all the failed history btwn them ahhhhhh.

yeeess, they are so exhausted at this point, it breaks my heart (i'm the author i know, this is my doing lol).

i freaking love the science jargon so damn much omg 🙏🏼😫 i have forgotten absolutely everything from my degree but it slowly comes back to me when i read s&c and that makes me so excited. i swear when im a doctor someday imma come back n read s&c and be like gat dayum nici really did her damn research!! xD

oh god ellie, you know more about this than i do, so please don't dwell too much on the medical details here because i'm 100% sure they don't make any sense ahahhah.

would i sound lame if i asked you for the papers you looked through for this chapter xD

noooooo, we love a curious mind ahhhh !!! but yeah, i wrote the DOI of the paper in the chapter notes hehe <33

ts genuinely so interesting i get to learn ab breakthrough oncology research AND i get to fuck my fave?!!

BEST OF BOTH WORLDS <33

side note i love when ur satoru goes “ha?” like he’s so sexy for that and it’s so incharacter for him PLSLDFJH also damn he called us stupid woman AND reckless idiot in one chapter ✋🏼😔

i can imagine him so vividly like that !! with his dumbfounded face, mouth hanging open, then he slowly raises an eyebrow and be like haaaa ???? and in his mind he is already undressing and fucking you rough lol.

i love the underlying theme of grief in this chapter and also ADORE the depth you’ve given to reader sm.

so happy to read this :'')) <33

PLSSS do not hesitate or worry to ass depth to the reader’s character!! i get the same way in my writinf where im like oh its an x reader no one cares to read ab the reader’s backstory but no it adds sm more to the story and only strengthens the narrative as well as the romance n connections within the story!! like bae if u want me to have a traumatic past then i’m here for it xD

ohhh and i'm happy to read we're on the same page with this !!

i love everything satoru is saying to her rn, he’s so incredibly emotionally mature, and i really understand why reader believes in him n wants him to be better. he’s a great man that just needs a little bit of saving 😭❤️

yeess, he's such a GREEN FLAG, he just a bit stupid and insane and an addict, but i mean ??? how can u not love him when he says things like that ??? ahhhh

OH MY GOSHHHHHHHHH the scene w satoru’s ROMANTIC SOLILOQUYYY my fucking heart he is so bridgerton man coded

this was his big ass bridgerton moment yeess hahaha. we love a man pathetically in love with his woman <<3333

also reader randomly coming up w a breakthru for her research while she’s gettin the most romantic speech or her life is so fuckin funny n she’s so real for that AHAHAH and the futon bit was sooo cute

priorities i mean ??? satoru can wait ahahha

I FREAKING LOVE THIS PART i love a little age gap romanceee n this was soooo hehehehe 🥴🤭 like yesss bb do declare how you have more wisdom on meeee now pls fuck me 🤞🏼😫

same girl, same !!! like, yes please tell me how the world works, bc i'm too stupid for it, but beware if you ever mansplain anything to me i'll kill u (and now choke me pls). <33

wow i loved this chapter!! so much happened and it was all just S tier writing, S tier dialogue, S tier everything.

ahhhhhh !! thank you so so much again for sharing your thoughts and emotions while reading the chapter, your insightful analysis mean so much to me :'')) i hope u find money on the pavement this week, i'm manifesting this for u !! <3 love you !!

[sillybeansss]

okay wait before i start typing out my reply. THANK YOU??? i.dont know i just. DUFUJDFHHF THAT FEELS SO NICE TO. READ THANK YOU??? i genuinely cannot begin to express my gratitude,,,, but thank you!!! im proud of you, too!! i hope things get better for you in every way, and i mean that. 

i will try to reapond to each paragraph individually hold pn,,, ( < is currently writing this in the notes app because i dont trust tumblr )

yeah fair!!! itd be nice to expand my hobbies and interests, especially with something like instruments. i get what you mean about taking it slow and practicing. like i say, practice, while it may not always make perfect, makes progress. hence why its good to exercise your abilities! actually i cannot be talking i am extremely art blocked but ive been writing a lot lately and im honestly super happy about that!! also i might try to pursue piano, although ill ask my friend to try and teach me piano 101 since i dont want to pay for actual classes, especially since i dont know if its for me yet, so itd be kind of pointless to spend money on something i might not like. also might try picking up the flute again! maybe ordering a new book! said flute is still okay its just probably dirty. maybe i might move onto the sax or guitar…also. practice!!! again, practice makes progress! i can assure you that once you do it enough, youre going to be satisfied with the result. do it until it suffices, but dont overwork yourself either!!

i relate to this a lot actually!!! im trying to have a better mindset about the school than i did last year. because, although it can be frustrating sometimes, its not all terrible. my school is a school with no deficiencies, and were usually better than the district…so i guess i should be grateful for that! except for math. also you are very optimistic!! so yes, ‘twas obvious!!! ive always just seen you as like this silly guy who may or may not be energetic at times…though its probably projecting…but i can understand getting pissed off with some peers/schoolmates sometimes. it happens to the best of us. as long as it doesnt escalate a lot, its alright. i usually try to just keep everything i say short and sweet therefore they dont have much to use against me. if it wasnt obvious though i kind of suck at that because im a yap-o-tron

woawww…that sounds super cool!!! now that i think of it i was shown annie in like 4th grade so technically annie WAS actually my first musical…not that i payed much attention though. sometimes. my personal favorite is. EMBARRASSING…and i dont know how people havent found out yet because i keep making references

okay thats my individual reaponse to each paragraph…thats why it sounds kinda weird

~🫶🏽🎳

IM SOSO SORRY FOR THE LATE RESPONSE 😭😭!!!

But for starters ACK TY!!! I'm super duper proud of you silly :33

And I highkey encourage you to try those instruments especially sax!! You seem thrilled about it and I think you'd like it ^_^ I usually try to practice but I am a heavy procrastinator especially since my interests are lowkey one of the biggest things I thinking about after school yk? ALSO ALSO YESSS DO THAT!!! Havia good mindset really helps my counseler always told me that and I thought it was dumb and such but she highkey has a point cause it really does help!! :33 and I think sometimes I am quite energetic I think it just matters the situation and how much I know said person if im with anyone :p

And yeah school just sucks sometimes but hopefully next year the guys will "calm down and mature" like my siblings keep telling me but I don't know if Im fully confident in that,,, but in my time will tell!! ^u^

[hxlda-hxlda]

Okay so I have just finished reading the last chapter that u just uploaded and if u dont mind im gonna rant about It .

First of all Remus and Sirius being paired Up was soo unexpected but im totally here for It . And the pure silence is seriously making me suffer I totally understand why Sirius was being dramatic cause i cant handle awkward silence , It will be the death of me i swear.

Secondly I loved the dorcas and Sirius interactions , well the whole slytherin skittles dynamic tbh .

And the way that Sirius and James hate each other more than Remus and Sirius ...

Thats soo weird and different but for some reason I really like It and am pretty interested in seeing more interactions between them .

Welpp thats all , to lazy to write more .

THANKS FOR THE UPDATE

Cant wait for the next one

thanks for reading dearest!!!!! i do not mind at ALL nothing is more fun than ppl talking to me abt my own self-induced brainrot, so rant away (as i’m now going to)!!!!!

it’s shocking to me it was a surprising turn of events. but then again it was one of the first things i KNEW was going to happen in this fic when i came up with the idea over two months ago, so it’s been rattling around my brain for a while. a lot of this fic is going to be based around those prefect rounds, which i am so thrilled to have play out.

and YES, the awkward looks and silences are everything to me!!! for me high school drama was a lot of just,,, i don’t want to talk to you,,, so i’m gonna sit here in bitter silence,,,, and it will be so fuckin weird,,,, and i love forcing that onto sirius and rem (and all of you) bc ugh. it truly is PAINFUL.

cas and sirius have become one of my favourite dynamics so unexpectedly, but i actually adore them with my whole soul - writing them is so easy and fun.

same with all our skittles. rejoining the marauders fandom after years of absence as i did, the concept of the skittles is something i’ve been discovering slowly (as it fully was not around when i was) and i was in no way expecting to write something so them-centric, but i’m enjoying how my characterisations are turning out (even if they’re a bit different from fanon)!!!!

good god i have so much to say abt sirius, james and remus in this fic. at the end of the day i’m going for this kind of mirror to fanon/canon where sirius and james are THE relationship (obvs they hate each other rn, but it is still a defining duo) and remus feels kind of on the outs as a result, seeing himself as something seperate and perhaps less of a priority as a result.

i could write a whole character study on james just for this fic. one of my main writing considerations is a sirius without a james who has shown him unconditional love. sirius in gryffindor is so different bc of JAMES, the first person to love him so overtly. when he doesn’t have that (even in his skittles in this fic, not in a way that isn’t attached to his family identity (at least in his own mind)), where does that leave sirius? bc then it also means, how do james and sirius develop a relationship when it doesn’t start with a foundation of ‘i chose you as my best mate in yr 1’, yk??? they hate each other already, where do they go from there in the future??? just. ugh. platonic prongsfoot. kills me every fucking time.

cannot wait for the next one as well, she’s a big one!!!! i’ll tell you that.

xx

[aerismonia]

I'm going to be very honest with y'all right now, but no words can convey how THRILLED i am for this. Because not only am i going to have a wedding with my fiancée literally AT friday, but my fav kind of gojo writer is gonna write a full-length fic abt these two freaky lovebirds and i am so hyped for this you dont understand thank you SO much for tagging me HAKAHAJJW u guessed me. U guessed my character so well. 😭😭

casual || gojo satoru x reader

Coming soon...

synopsis: Getting recruited for a double position as a teacher for Jujutsu High in Tokyo and a strategist, tasked with assigning missions to sorcerers in the region is the perfect situation for you. It pays well, it's well regarded, and it's as safe as possible — by sorcerer standards, anyway.

There is one problem though, and his name is Gojo Satoru. The one who's supposed to collaborate with you and answer to you.

The one you can't keep your hands off...

word count (chapter 1): 7.5k+

genre: 18+, friends with benefits to lovers, coworkers to lovers, canon divergence, smut

warnings/tags: fem!reader (she/her pronouns, reader is afab), friends with benefits, teacher!reader, emotional slow burn but they fuck like rabbits, canon-typical violence, smut, angst, fluff, specific warnings by chapters

Gojo walks up to you, hands in his pockets. His approach to teaching involves not stepping in unless the danger becomes too extreme, so you'd expect some reaction, since you did intervene, but he doesn't seem inclined to scold you. There’s the ghost of his usual smile on his lips, but it doesn’t feel mean-spirited this time.

“We do have to save them if they need us," he says, voice surprisingly gentle, "but it’s at least as important that we teach them how to fend for themselves.”

“I don’t disagree with that.”

You just don’t think it’s worth losing an arm over this kind of reasoning.

Gojo steps closer, leaning towards you so close his nose is almost touching yours. You suck in a breath through your mouth. From up close, it’s particularly hard to ignore how handsome he is, even without seeing his eyes. You blame your accelerating heart rate on the fact that being a sorcerer is a high-stress kind of job and you’re feeling pent up. Either way, you don’t let it show, and you hate that you’re finding it harder to breathe now.

“You’re not what I expected.”

He’s said it before, but his voice is lower now, deeper, vibrating through your body, and you feel your stomach twisting.

You didn’t know what to answer the first time he said that, and you sure as fuck have no clue now. Instead, you glare at him, until he laughs, light and airy, and takes a step back.

“If you need me, I’ll be on top of the building, watching the kids.”

You wait for him to disappear in the distance, keeping yourself still, too still, probably, to be completely inconspicuous, and it’s only when you’re sure he’s gone that you let yourself exhale very, very slowly. The urge to to laugh at yourself seizes you, because what the fuck is wrong with you? It's not the right time, not the right place, and not even remotely the right person.

Even though you’re fully aware of all of that, your eyes trail towards the building, where you could imagine seeing Gojo’s silhouette, if you didn’t know better.

Except you do. You do.

When you look away, you know full well you’re doing it too pointedly.

First chapter coming Friday!

[veryvincible]

Ari Agbayani, a new local Filipina-American Cap!

Not to be dramatic, but I have been grinning like a dumbass since I saw her. She looks like me! Exactly like me! And dresses like me! And she is what I am! Wild!!!!

[astrobiche]

Astro notes 10 🐞

Disclaimer : based on my personal observations so take it w a grain of salt 🌷

Photos not mine, credits to the owner(s). Do not steal my work.

🍒 Aqua mars tend to like mechanics/engineering

🍒 developed aquarius placements are the most empathetic people i know. Their ability to understand how the human mind works and pick up on body language then try their best to make everyone feel comfortable is unmatched. Very high EQ.

🍒 fire sign + water rising culture is assertively voicing your opinion but getting hurt and tearing up when u get backlash

🍒 Fire dominants can have a high metabolism. (Sweat easily and go to the bathroom frequently)

🍒 Aquarius placements/ uranus dominants may feel like they were born "too early". Like they held all these progressive ideologies growing up and felt misunderstood but when they're older they realize the younger generation now possesses them. May get along better with younger people.

🍒 every single person who told me they dont wanna get married or have kids has been an aqua placement 💀 they find it constricting but i noticed having cancer/capricorn help them settle down later in life

🍒 virgo + sag in chart : "im anxious bc i didnt plan how this will go but am i thrilled by the lack of planning? Yea"

🍒 leo risings can be so delicate and thin/ small, some of them remind me of cute cats

🍒 libra and taurus placements can become bffs so fast!!

🍒 Pisces mercury/3h neptune LOVE to talk about belief systems/spirituality like u could just meet them for the first time and theyre talking about how drugs helped them understand the universe and be enlightened and "i wasn't in a good place spiritually" -a 3h neptune native

🍒 A good synastry indicator is having one (or more) of the signs in ur big 3 in their big 3 or signs opposite to urs. Or ur rising sign is right next to theirs : for example : cancer rising and gemini rising/leo rising.

Imo, similar placements can clash so having someone's moon as the other's sun for example is better than having the same sun/moon/rising

🍒 the difference between a sign and a planet in a house is subtle but important, for example :

1h uranus w aquarius in the 6th house : changes initiated by the individual affect the job

Aquarius 1st w uranus in the 6th : changes to the job can affect the individual

🍒 i noticed that a lot of virgo suns (especially masculine presenting ones) give off the same vibe, (ofc this wouldnt apply to everyone its just a pattern i noticed) : skater/chill vibes, like to wear beanies and layered clothes, they love pets so much and especially dogs, "im somewhere else" energy

🍒 12h gemini/mercury natives should be careful when reading about topics they're interested in right before bed, their brain may already be too active so reading may make sleeping a little harder (you should still study tho 🤨 this applies more to reading for fun than studying)

🍒 sometimes, leo venus can NOT tolerate being disrespected in group settings. They may take jokes or teasing too seriously if they're not comfortable with you

🍒 9h jupiter natives can have a beneficial relationship w their in laws or benefit from them financially

[subskz]

oh sahar 😭😭😭 i had to reblog bc the word limit in the replies simply could not contain the lovebeam i am sending ur way!!!

i just want to start by saying thank you so much for not only taking the time to read this series w such care, but for taking the time to write out your thoughts after each part. i know i’ve said it a million times but i will say it a million more!! i’m sure that alone takes time and effort and i’m infinitely thankful for ur support!

the olive branch description!! i’m so glad u liked that line haha i felt like smth like that suited how minho goes abt reconciling in this story…he isn’t the best at opening up or apologizing but he still makes an awkward effort in his own lino way! you are so unbelievably sweet oh my god…u have no idea how honored i am to hear that my writing could inspire you but i also dont think i can accept such high praise from u! just from your incredibly thorough feedback, the connections you make in the story so seamlessly, the beautiful meanings you have drawn from it that i could never even think of, i can tell that you are an exceptional writer ㅠ i can’t wait to dive into ur masterlist and read ur works bc i’m certain you will blow me away!

“the drop that overflowed the cup” is such a perfect way to put it! i kinda wanted this story to be abt a situation where there’s not just one single problem to be resolved, more like a collection of fatefully-timed circumstances and personalities where everyone means well but in the end still make foolish decisions and accidentally hurt each other in the process…and lino is no exception hehe ofc he had a big role in adding to the reader’s misgivings, but as you said, ultimately the root of the issue lied in her and chan’s skewed worldviews. they were doomed to fail regardless if they weren’t willing to make that change! i also wholly agree w what u said abt the importance of admitting ur wrong! sometimes that (and the actions you take afterwards) can be worth even more than an apology

THE SENSATION IN HER THUMB! i’m delighted you caught that hehe but as expected u are as observant as ever! i couldn’t resist sprinkling that lil trope in <3 “no one wants to become strong until they are forced to by the hands of the ppl they once loved” just makes my heart absolutely ache 😞 that’s precisely it…being strong is so admirable, but ideally it would never have to get to that point where a person has to withstand so much on their own. maintaining that stubborn kindness and compassion for the world even when it’s been trampled on and taken advantage of is the strongest thing a person can do imo!

i’m so thrilled to know that there were parts in this chapter that could touch your heart ㅠ the “you are the moon” section especially is one that i really really wanted to include, so it makes me happier than anything that it struck a chord w you! also “pure love can only nurture you not drain you” PLEASE you always have the most beautiful things to say!! the note you made abt the intimacy of twin flames is also so precious to me thank you so much…it gave me the chance to write abt such intense emotions that i’m not used to describing, and though it’s surely scary and uncomfortable to not only bare yourself completely to someone, but to also see the deepest parts of yourself reflected in them, the idea of it resulting in an unconditional love and understanding is very nice to think abt ♡ i’m so happy you feel it suits channie as well!

from day one i have just been so in awe of your attention to detail and your willingness to become invested in bb…it truly is the most encouraging thing in the world when you catch these things and comment on them. every little note you’ve made abt a recurring theme in the story, or a subtle action that gives insight to the characters, or just a certain sentence that you liked has put me over the moon! you give every one of those easter eggs value when you point them out, and i just can never thank you enough for your big heart and brilliant mind! the way you seem to understand the message of this series and its characters inside and out is so fulfilling to me, and the fact that parts of it resonated w you personally and could bring you some peace of mind is all i could ever hope for! it makes my own heart feel at ease 💗

i’m so grateful that you took a chance on this series when you don’t typically delve into them! butterfly bandage was my first time writing smth like this, and you’ve without a doubt made the experience such an unforgettable one. i kinda can’t believe it’s over too HAHA but i will always cherish this lil period of time and every kind word you’ve ever shared w me throughout it! i’m also itching to finally get the chance to read ur works, i’ve been eyeing invisible thread for over a month now but i strictly told myself i should finish bb first before allowing myself to indulge since i’m a horribly slow writer…now that we’ve reached this point at last, i’m ready to feast hehe 😽

thank you again from the bottom of my heart! i’m wishing you all the best angel, i hope all the happiness you’ve brought me comes back to you tenfold!

ʚïɞ butterfly bandage - 05

note: this is the final part of a series (part 1, part 2, part 3, part 4)

content: bang chan/reader, university au, themes of twin flames, themes of soulmates, reader is female and referred to with she/her pronouns, angst, hurt/comfort, mentions of past unhealthy relationships, themes of death/grief, more crying (sorry), nsfw scenes

18+ content: sub chan, dom reader, soft smut, mirror sex, lots and lots of praise, body worship, biting, marking, possessiveness, teasing, channie is very embarrassed, handjob, begging, just a little bit of crying, edging, reader and chan are kinda obsessively in love, unprotected sex, riding, cockwarming

word count: 17.3k

A call of your name from across the lab caught your attention, just as you were preparing to collect your materials and head out for the day. Fumbling with your bag, you zipped it up as quickly as you could and headed towards your lab instructor, already bracing yourself for a conversation that, based on your track record with her, was very likely to be disheartening.

She lowered the stack of papers she’d been holding as you approached her, revealing her smile��a rare sight for anyone who worked under her.

“Yes?”

“Congratulations,” she announced. “Your paper’s approved.”

Your eyes widened as she handed the stack to you, over twenty pages of blood, sweat, and tears. They felt heavy in your hands, heavy with the weight of everything that had been sacrificed for their completion. Just a few days ago, the news would’ve had you over the moon. It was all you’d been wanting to hear, all you’d been dreaming of since you’d first begun your studies. Now, it was nothing more than a shallow comfort, a single drop of sunlight that was immediately obscured by the shadows all around it.

“Great,” you said at last, flashing a strained smile. “Thank you, Professor.”

She gave you a pat on the back, and you tried to find solace in the proud shine in her eyes. “You did well,” she praised. “I’m sure you’ll excel in your next rotation, too.”

“My next…rotation?”

Your instructor glanced down at her clipboard, adjusting her glasses with a hum. “Since your research has been approved, there’s no need for you to remain at your current station. You’ve spent quite a bit of time with those binary pairs,” she added. “You’ll be doing interferometric imaging for the next few weeks. We’re a few people short.”

Something twisted inside you. “Really?”

She looked up from her notes, quirking an eyebrow. “Is there a problem?”

“I…” you trailed off. There was nothing you could tell her that would be meaningful enough for her to let you stay—nothing that wouldn’t get you laughed at or even potentially dismissed from the lab for the rest of the semester. How on earth were you meant to explain that a pair of spectroscopic stars had come to mean so much to you? How on earth were you meant to explain what they signified in your mind?

“No, nothing,” you said weakly. “I’ll transfer my things tomorrow. Thank you.”

Your instructor nodded, and that was that. In the blink of an eye, you’d lost the final piece of what you’d had left of Chan.

You adjusted the strap of your bag, bowing quickly to her and turning to leave. Your pace quickened as you exited the lab, a wave of inexplicable emotions rising within you. It ushered you to head home as soon as possible, like it was a race against time, like you had to reach shelter before it crashed into the shore and drowned you in front of everyone.

A cold gust of air billowed past you as you pushed open the doors to the physics building. You squinted against it, burying your hands in your pockets. The sky was still covered with that same, gray sheet—much darker than it had been earlier in the week. The closer you studied it, the more it looked like the clouds might break at any given moment. All the more reason to rush home; you hadn’t brought an umbrella.

Your phone vibrated against your hand, and you fished it out of your pocket without thinking. Anything to distract you from this. 

bin 😑 (2:27 p.m.) hey

bin 😑 (2:28 p.m.) is everything okay?

Just as you were about to close the notification, another came.

bin 😑 (2:30 p.m.) did something happen with chan?

You stopped in your tracks. 

Did he really not know? Had Chan still not said anything to him? Was he keeping it all to himself? Suffering in silence, even now?

You didn’t have to question it for long. Of course he was. 

Against your better judgment, you typed out a reply, fingers stiff from the cold and—for some reason—thumb burning.

you (2:33 p.m.) i’m fine bin don’t worry about me

you (2:34 p.m.) please just be there for chan

bin 😑 (2:36 p.m.) where have u been??? i was worried

Guilt, guilt, guilt. 

He wouldn’t be worried anymore when he found out the truth.

bin 😑 (2:38 p.m) pls talk to me

You wanted to talk to him. You so badly wanted to talk to him—not even about everything that had transpired over the past four days, just in general. You wanted to tease him, to laugh with him, to share a meal with him, to chatter about the most trivial, most mundane of topics with him because you could, because you enjoyed each other’s company and nothing else.

You missed your friend. But he was Chan’s friend first and foremost; Chan’s little brother. Losing Chan meant losing Changbin. The moment he’d find out what you’d done, how you’d hurt the person he admired most in this world, he would look at you with that same, dark glare that had unsettled you so much on the day you’d first met. Only this time, it wouldn’t be misleading, masking the kindness underneath. It would be real, intentional. He would mean every bit of it.

Minho’s glares were one thing. The thought of Changbin looking at you the same way was more than you could take. There was no place for you in his life anymore.

A droplet landed on your screen, splattering water across it and blurring the words of his message. You looked up at the sky. The clouds had broken.

You were going to cry.

It was for the best, probably. A pot could only withstand so much before it boiled over.

You pulled the hood of your jacket over your head just as the rain began to fall more steadily, sinking to the ground and settling on the curb of the sidewalk. You gave up on outrunning the wave. For once, uncaring of the people around you. For once, allowing yourself to be an inconvenience. 

Vaguely, you felt another buzz in your pocket; repeating, persistent. Changbin must have been calling you. Pressure rose in your chest. A strange sound built in your throat, an unpleasant, unfamiliar sensation pricked at your eyes. But before droplets of your own could well up in their corners, before you could release, the feeling of rain pattering relentlessly against your clothes came to a sudden halt, like something had passed over you, shielding you from it.

You didn’t bother to look up, praying that whoever it was whose presence you felt hovering above you, they’d take the hint and leave you alone. Just a moment to wallow in your misery. Just a moment to feel without worrying about anyone or anything else. Even now, that was too much to ask for, it seemed.

Through the roaring downpour, you barely caught it—soft, airy.

“It’s raining.”

Your blood ran cold, chilling you more than any of the water seeping through your clothing, right down to your bones.

Of course. You almost laughed out loud. Of fucking course.

This had to be some kind of joke, the universe’s cruel finale to everything it had put you through over the past three years.

“Go away.”

“Aren’t you gonna congratulate me for learning how to use an umbrella?”

You peered up through the mess of hair and fabric blocking your vision, fixing him with a look fiercer than any of the insults he’d ever hurled your way.

“Go away.”

His stare didn’t waver, face unchanging as always. It must’ve been so easy, to be so unaffected. It must’ve been so easy, to care so little. He blinked down at you, and—despite the static swarming your mind—through it all, you couldn’t help but notice that there was nothing harsh about the look he was giving you. Not quite warm, not quite cold. It was far from the self-satisfied expression of someone who knew he had been right all along. Of someone who knew that he had won. 

“Come with me.”

You watched him blankly, too appalled to speak. 

When you didn’t budge, he tilted his wrist, leaning his umbrella forward so that it covered you completely and exposed part of himself to the rain.

“I’ll get sick if you don’t.”

“Yeah? Brew yourself some yuja tea.”

His lip twitched into the beginnings of a smirk. Not smug, not condescending. Just faintly amused.

“That was pretty funny.” He tilted the umbrella further. The rain began to land on his hair, darkening it, weighing it down. “But I’m really starting to get cold, now.”

“I don’t care.”

He clicked his tongue. Still, he made no move to leave, not even to pull his umbrella back over himself. You might’ve been swayed by whatever approach he was taking if you weren’t too preoccupied with figuring out just how the hell you could get rid of this guy.

“By the way,” he added casually. “Changbin gave me something. I think it belongs to you?”

You cursed yourself for perking up so quickly, so obviously. It was only for a split second, but he caught on—of course he did—eyes glinting like a cat that had spotted its target in all your loose threads.

“What do you want?”

“Let’s talk,” he said. “Come with me, and the pencil’s all yours.”

You gave in. For whatever reason, Lee Minho had suddenly decided that you were now worth his time.

He didn’t offer his hand to help you come to full standing, but he kept the umbrella steadily above you as you rose from the curb, allowing himself to get drenched in the process. It almost made you grimace more than his usual behavior, solely because it felt so wrong. And, maybe, because you felt like you didn’t deserve it. Not even from someone like him.

As he led you down the sidewalk towards wherever he planned to take you, you inched away from him, back into the rain. He made no effort to move closer again, but you did notice his eyes flicker your way once or twice.

You shuffled awkwardly behind him, focus kept firmly on the pavement, feet kicking up water with every step you took. It wasn’t until the warm, addictive scent of freshly-ground coffee flooded your senses that you lifted your head with a start, just in time to see Minho wiping the bottom of his shoes on the campus library mat. He shook out his umbrella and stepped inside, seemingly debating for a moment whether or not he should hold the door open for you.

An ache gripped your heart, somehow, stronger than anything you’d felt over the past four days. It ached and throbbed and pulsed when you processed where you were headed. The table right across from the entrance, at the very back of the library.

You half-expected to find him there—shrouded in black, hunched over his laptop, one set of fingers playing with his lips, the other set tapping along to the melody of his music. But his seat was empty. He wasn't there anymore.

You tried to control the sheer enormity of your anguish as you approached its source. You’d already humiliated yourself enough in front of the last person you’d ever have wanted to witness it. Even if he didn’t seem nearly as delighted with your downfall as you’d imagined, the fact that he’d caught you more vulnerable than anyone else had before, more than Chan ever had, made your skin positively crawl.

Minho sat down with a heavy sigh, ruffling his hair in a half-hearted attempt to dry it out. He slipped off his drenched jacket, giving it a disgusted look before dropping it on the table.

“Want some coffee?”

“No.”

“It’ll warm you up.”

You narrowed your eyes. If you’d had any semblance of rationality left in your system, you would’ve told yourself that it was just an offhand comment, that he couldn’t possibly have known just how devoid of warmth you truly were. But you were far past that point. Everything he said was a trap and everything he did was a taunt.

When he saw that you had no plans to respond, he shrugged. “Suit yourself.”

“Where’s my pencil?”

“Oh,” he sniffed. “I lied about that.”

You bristled. “What?”

“I don’t have it,” he clarified. “I lied so you’d come with me. Get it?”

You reached for your bag, preparing to leave.

“You can take it from Changbin yourself,” he continued. “Once this is all fixed.”

For once, the absolute certainty with which he spoke, like anything that came out of his mouth was a prophecy waiting to be fulfilled, wasn’t used to stir doubt within you. You froze in place. Whether it was a flash of hope, or a stubborn indignation that kept you rooted to your chair, you weren’t quite sure.

“Once this is fixed?” you echoed, rife with hostility. “This is exactly what you wanted, isn’t it? Chan hates me just as much as you do, now. You win.”

“I don’t hate you.”

You scoffed, expecting the lie—because it had to be a lie, a jeer, a vicious way to kick you while you were down—to be followed by that same scornful sneer that had become all too familiar for your liking. 

But it never came.

Your disbelief was only met with a sincere, unbreaking expression. No games, no underlying meaning. A complete contrast to everything you associated with Lee Minho.

“Are you serious?”

“You don’t believe me?” he feigned hurt, which you had half a mind to be infuriated about considering the many, many worse things he’d assumed about you. “I mean it. I don’t hate you.”

You blinked.

“I probably could’ve,” he added unhelpfully. “If what I'd thought about you turned out to be true. But really, I just didn’t trust you.”

You grunted to at least acknowledge his confession, unsure of how else you should react. If that was how he treated the people he didn’t trust, you’d love to know what his hatred looked like. 

You’d long told yourself not to take it personally, but for some reason, there was an undeniable sting there. Maybe it was because Minho was eerily perceptive, so much that this whole ordeal had planted the idea in your head that he had to be correct. Or maybe, it was because you’d always felt like there was a bit of truth to his impression of you, even before you’d met him, even before his opinion of you had sunk straight into the gutter. Having someone else say it out loud had just forced you to come to terms with it.

That constant voice in the back of your head, etching guilt into your mind. Telling you that you liked hurting the people who depended on you, that you liked to build them a safe haven and then crush it before their very eyes. Exactly what he had claimed you’d done to him.

Exactly what you’d done to Chan.

“Am I making things worse?” Minho tilted his head. 

“No,” you answered, and it was mostly honest. “Go on.”

He said nothing, eyeing you for a moment longer. It put you on high alert. Similarly to Chan, you couldn’t shake the feeling that he was delving straight into your center—but unlike Chan, there was no comfort of being able to stare right back into his. 

“You probably know this by now, but Chan is an easy target for a lot of people,” he began. Slow, deliberate, no playful lilt to it. “He can usually tell when he’s being mistreated, but even so, he puts up with it. He thinks he can make it all better.”

You shifted uncomfortably in your spot, concentrating on the rain droplets that hadn’t yet dried from your hair. “Yeah, I know.” 

I know better than you. The petty side of you wanted to tack on. But you decided against it, instead choosing to foster whatever kind of tentative truce was coming to fruition here.

Minho paused again. “Right.”

“So, what, you thought I was one of those people?”

“Mm.” Blunt as ever. “Like I said, I've seen the type before. And if Chan wasn’t going to do anything about it, then I was.”

He’d changed his wording, you noticed. It had been your type before, uttered with all the contempt and venom in the world. You wanted to find consolation in that subtle difference, but it didn’t stop the memory from rousing your defiance all over again.

“You think he can’t make decisions for himself?”

It was a risk—hypocritical, too, when you knew firsthand what kind of decisions Chan made for himself, when you knew firsthand the powerlessness of trying to get him to stop—but you said it anyway. Minho hummed, leaning back in his chair, as if the challenge in your words hadn’t affected him in the slightest.

“Of course he can,” he replied evenly. “Doesn’t make them right. When you see your friend make the same decision over and over and get hurt every single time, wouldn’t it be cruel to just sit by and watch?”

He looked off to the side, and if you hadn’t known any better, you might’ve thought that he was—God forbid—trying to prevent you from possibly catching on to an emotion of his.

“That’s what real insanity is—isn’t that how the saying goes? Repeating the same thing and expecting different results.”

You knew, deep down, that his explanation made sense, and somehow, that only stung more. You felt wronged, like the collateral damage for all the people who had harmed Chan in the past. The fact that Minho had treated you so coldly out of the goodness of his heart wasn’t much of a reprieve. In a childish sense, it made things even worse, because now, your own negative feelings towards him felt unjustified.

That didn’t even begin to cover the fact that he had been right. 

Every part of you wanted to object to him lumping you in with all the others as the same decision, but in the end, you were just another name on the endless list of people who had hurt Chan.

When he saw how long you’d gone silent for, Minho spoke up again, looking unsure of himself for what may very well have been the first time in his life. 

“I’m…” he huffed. “Look, I was wrong.”

As always, what he said was the polar opposite of what you’d been thinking. It was almost comical, how the wavelengths the two of you operated on were so determined to be different in every conceivable way. 

His ears, you noticed, had dusted red at the tips—the exact same way Chan’s would flare up when he was flustered. You hated how it weakened your resolve, how his mere association with Chan had you more than willing to accept his olive branch, however awkwardly shaped it was.

“Chan’s done a lot for me—for everyone. I just wanted to protect him.”

That was the point of convergence, the one, precious point where your waves intersected. The desire to keep Chan safe. You understood it better than anything else, and so, for that fleeting moment, you understood Minho. Still, your pride—something you’d repressed far too many times in your attempts to reconcile with him before—wasn’t quite ready to back down.

“But you barely even knew me,” you protested. “What did I do to make you decide that you hated me all of a sudden?”

“Didn’t hate you,” he corrected.

You pressed your lips together into an annoyed line. “What made you think I wanted to…to hurt him?”

Minho looked contemplative, and you found yourself worrying that he may simply decide not to tell you. You wouldn’t put it past him. It would be painfully on-brand, actually, at least with the version of him that you’d come to know. 

“Chan came home crying.”

Your throat went dry.

“What?” you rasped. “When?”

“Back in July. The morning I got back from summer break.”

The morning after you’d first slept together. All at once, everything snapped into place—pieces of the puzzle that you hadn’t been able to connect, pieces that you hadn’t even known were missing in the first place.

“So, he comes home from your place, crying, with those marks all over his neck,” he explained. “It wasn’t the first time something like that happened. I put two and two together.”

You felt sick enough that you actually feared you might throw up, right there, on the library floor.

“I thought he must’ve landed himself in a bad spot again. With someone who only wanted to use him.”

“Why?” You gripped your soaked bag to your chest, with so much force that residual water began to dribble out of it. “Why was he crying?”

How did I hurt him? You wanted to add. Why didn’t he tell me? Why didn’t I notice? 

How could you have ever let this happen?

Minho hesitated, and you squeezed your eyes shut, not entirely certain that you even wanted to hear the answer.

“He was happy.”

Confusion. And then, relief. And then, confusion again. The turmoil must have been written all over your face, because Minho ever so graciously decided to elaborate.

“I didn’t find that part out until yesterday, though. Not much of a happy crier, myself.”

A fresh surge of anger overtook everything else you were struggling to comprehend. Thoughts of what could’ve been, of how it all might have turned out if it weren’t for the man in front of you. The man who had given you all the tools in chiseling your self-doubt to perfection, who had passed you the hammer to destroy what you loved most.

You wanted it to be his fault. It would be so easy to pin the blame all on him. But nothing was ever that easy. Nothing was ever that simple. Even without the right tools, you would’ve found a way to destroy it regardless. It was what you were best at.

“You didn’t bother to ask him!?” you snapped.

“Oh. You think I’m stupid.” A glimpse of his former sharpness. You had to stop yourself from saying yes, just to spite him. “Of course, I asked. More than once. But his answer was the same as always—he smiled and told me not to worry. He’d say it with a gun to his head.”

You frowned. It was too much to process at once, too much for your already worn-down brain to compute. All you could really make sense of was a gut feeling, an instinct, telling you that you’d made a horrible, horrible mistake.

“I talked to Chan yesterday,” he mellowed again, back to his usual, airy tenor. “He told me everything. He doesn’t seem to fully understand it, but I do.”

Minho locked eyes with you, deep, intense. No longer the look of someone that had decided you were guilty, but a look that warned you that he would know if you were lying to him.

“You care about him, don’t you?”

It sounded more like a statement than a question, but you nodded, anyway. Such a simple thing to admit to. How could such a simple thing have ever led to all of this? 

“Yeah,” you mumbled. “That’s why I did it. I was afraid I’d end up…”

You took in a shaky breath.

“I just didn’t want to hurt him.”

“Ah, seriously.” He pinched the bridge of his nose, and he laughed. Incredulous, dry, ending with an exhale. “You broke up with him because you didn’t want to hurt him? Do you realize how insane that sounds?”

Your face heated up. “You’re the one who thought I would in the first place!”

“But I was wrong.”

You were taken aback by how plainly he admitted to it, how that indestructible, stubborn pride of his was extinguished the instant he’d learned it had harmed someone he cared about. Even more troubling than that, was the fact that you could tell he was apologetic, even without him saying it outright. All of this, as annoyingly as he was going about it, was his apology to you. Changbin’s words—fond and reassuring and, now, truer than ever—reverberated in your mind. Soft at heart.

“People are supposed to help each other. You know that, right?”

You snorted at the absurdity of the question. 

“Obviously.”

“So why are you so weird about it?”

“It’s different with Chan,” you insisted. “You said it yourself. He does so much—everyone takes so much from him. I didn’t want to do the same.”

“But that’s still not fair, is it?” he countered. “You’d just be giving everything instead. Chan doesn’t want that, either.”

You opened your mouth to argue, only for the words to die in your throat. There was no way to justify it without sounding ridiculous—maybe, because it was a bit ridiculous. But Chan was the exception, he would always be the exception. You would give everything to him because you knew he would never take it for granted. You would give everything to him because he’d already given everyone so much.

Because he’d given you so much. 

Ah.

“God, you two are so—” Minho cradled head dramatically, sensing that you’d finally worked it out in your mind. “You’ve already got the hardest part figured out. Just learn to take once in a while. You’re not gonna die.”

“But he won’t change unless I do,” you muttered. “I know he won’t.”

He gave you a look of pure exasperation, as if the answer couldn’t have been more obvious.

“So, change.”

。⋆。˚ ʚïɞ ˚。⋆。⋆。˚ ʚïɞ ˚。⋆。⋆。˚ ʚïɞ ˚。⋆。

The feeling of your heart threatening to burst out of your chest, courtesy of Bang Christopher Chan, was one you’d become well-acquainted with over the past seven months. But of all the times you’d experienced it, it’d never been quite like this. This was something else entirely.

A day to mull everything over after your conversation with Minho, a restless night spent trying and failing to map out how you could possibly approach the situation, and over an hour of pacing restlessly around your apartment—all useless in ebbing the adrenaline that coursed through your veins. Before the clock had even struck 10:00 a.m., you’d not only felt like you had run a marathon, but that you could run another for good measure. 

You’d spoken to Changbin first. He at least deserved to know what was going on. He deserved an apology, even if the very real possibility that he would never speak to you again afterwards made your stomach churn. On a more selfish note—you figured today was as good as any to start with that—you’d also just really, really missed him. 

As it turned out, he’d more or less come to grasp the situation, even when being protected from all angles. Between what little Minho had let slip, Chan’s avoidant behavior (to the surprise of no one, he’d hardly let Changbin know a thing) and your vaguely ominous texts, he’d gathered up enough bits and pieces for his genius intuition to fill in the gaps. The sound of his voice once you’d revealed what had happened in full; compassionate, calm—not an ounce of the disdain you’d resigned yourself to be met with so viciously—had almost been enough to make you choke up.

“You should’ve told me,” he’d chided. “Why do you love doing that to yourself? What, you think I’m not strong enough to lean on?”

You’d let out a long exhale, heavy with all the apprehension you released with it; relieved, embarrassed, resigned. “It’s not that, Bin,” you’d mumbled. “I didn’t want to trouble you. Not when Chan and Minho both mean so much to you.”

“And you think you don’t? C’mon, you’re supposed to be the smart one here.”

Naturally, it only added to your guilt, that you’d created such an uncharacteristically cruel image of him in your head. This was Seo Changbin, after all. A great talker, but an even better listener, and as much as he liked to tease Chan for his age, he had a level of emotional intelligence far beyond his years. A wisdom that you would probably do well to learn from whenever it bothered to make an appearance. 

At the same time, however, this was Seo Changbin, the one man show, Leo incarnate. Once the relief of hearing back from you had eased his conscience (as much as it could, knowing how horribly tangled up everything had become), the theatrics had ensued.

“Dating my best friend is one thing, but breaking his heart is off limits!” he’d complained. It was mostly light. No real anger behind it, just plenty of highly-warranted frustration. “Not only that—breaking your own heart too! What am I supposed to do with two brokenhearted best friends? Hang out with Minho!?”

After a slew of loud, nagging, reprimands, and a very serious threat that Cinnamoroll would be held hostage until further notice, Changbin had let you go. For the first time in five days, you’d laughed. You’d never felt more grateful, or more stupid, in your life. He made it all sound so simple. Lee Minho, quite possibly the most convoluted piece of work you’d ever encountered in this world, had made it all sound so simple. 

You could only hope that you hadn’t crushed it into something infinitely more complicated, something beyond repair.

The trembling of your fingers, coupled with that strange sensation in your thumb that had yet to go away, made it difficult for you to type properly. Still, you persisted, throwing caution to the wind. Caution had ruled over you for far too long, anyway.

you (10:03 a.m.) hi

you (10:04 a.m.) i understand if you want some space right now but if you can, i’d like to talk

You prepared to lock your phone, not expecting a reply for some time—if any at all. Even under normal circumstances, he didn’t always get back to you right away. But, well, maybe the fact that the circumstances were anything but normal should’ve been enough for you to know better, because you didn’t even get the chance to swipe out of your messaging app before you noticed three little dots below your chat bubble.

Appearing. Disappearing. Appearing. Disappearing. Just a sign of life from him, and your palms had grown clammy. With fear, anticipation, dread. The dread of being met with anything but love, anything but warmth.

Then, at last, a single word.

channie 🐺 (10:08 a.m.) about?

you (10:08 a.m.) everything us

This time, it took him longer to respond. Ignoring every instinct that screamed otherwise, you typed up another text. There was no use hiding. There was never any use hiding with him.

you (10:12 a.m.) i don’t think i can do this

Almost immediately.

channie 🐺 (10:12 a.m.) me neither

Your heart leapt. You didn’t want it to give you hope. He had every right, every reason in the world, to not give you the time of day. He could get his closure and leave you, just as you’d left him.

channie 🐺 (10:13 a.m.) i can be over in 10?

A million thoughts sparked to life at once. The question of why he was already so close by. The urge to insist that you go meet him instead. The sudden realization that you were in no way prepared to see him so soon.

But all of it, overwhelming as it was, didn’t hold a candle to your strongest desire—a desire that could never be subdued by anything else. To put Chan first.

you (10:14 a.m.) okay, sure see you soon

Get here safe, Channie. You added in your head.

。⋆。˚ ʚïɞ ˚。⋆。⋆。˚ ʚïɞ ˚。⋆。⋆。˚ ʚïɞ ˚。⋆。

Chan looked tired when you opened the door. Eyes dull, drooping, littered with traces of pink and lined with dark circles. A few stray curls peeked out from beneath his beanie. You prayed that the black hoodie he was wearing wasn’t the same one he’d had on five days ago. He looked so tired. Tired and cold.

His gaze met yours. Just for a heartbeat, then it fell to the ground. You wanted to think it was because he felt self-conscious, you wanted to think it was that shyness—that hopelessly endearing shyness that got the best of him no matter how many times he looked at you. You didn’t want to believe that he simply couldn’t stomach the sight of you anymore.

“Are you okay?”

Chan tensed. Then, he caught you eyeing the bandaid on his thumb. He brushed his finger over it absentmindedly. He’d thought the pain had faded until now.

“Yeah. Just cut my finger.”

Your expression changed.

“On accident.”

“Oh,” you murmured. “Does it hurt?”

“A bit.”

You reached up to tug at your ear. He swiped his thumb over his nose.

“I—” you swallowed. The moment he’d stepped through the door, everything you’d so carefully planned to say, every point you’d spent hours trying to piece together into something comprehensible, was immediately tossed out the window. You had to navigate this in real time. There was no map for it—the path to something better. The only place you’d ever journeyed was your own destruction. 

“I’m so sorry,” you blurted out. “I think I messed up.”

He lifted his head. For once, unreadable.

“What do you mean?”

He knew what you meant, you were sure of it. But he wanted you to say it—needed you to say it. He needed you to dare to open yourself up to him, just as he had to you.

You understood now. That was the most important thing you could’ve ever given him, yet the one thing you’d refused to give.

“I’m not used to this,” you confessed. “I don’t know how to get used to it. You’re…you’re so good, Chan. To everyone. To me.”

Already, cracks were beginning to form in your composure. You had to keep it together, just enough to fix this. Just enough to hold the mirror up to him before it shattered. 

“When someone that good comes into your life, you wanna do everything you can to keep them, y’know? I wanted to do everything for you.”

Chan’s breath caught in his throat, audibly, and you knew a protest was building on his tongue. So, you barreled through.  

“It’s exactly because you’re so good that I got so scared. Because you wouldn’t just let me do it all for you like everyone else does.”

There was a pause, long and heavy enough for you to debate if you should just keep going, to air it all out and pray that at least some of it would come out sensical. But before you could, he spoke up, attentive as ever in what he chose to focus on. He narrowed it down like second nature, sought out the most essential part. The root of it all.

“You were scared?”

You winced. “I…yeah.”

“I’m sorry.”

Whatever remained of your heart from the past few days was effectively smashed into pieces. An apology from the last person on earth you needed to hear it from. An apology from someone who was owed so many apologies. From you, from himself, and from countless others who would never have to say it.

“Why are you sorry?” 

“I drove you to this, didn't I?” he whispered. “I thought about it the past few days—talked with Minho about it. I put you in a position you didn’t want. It’s my fault.”

“Oh, Channie,” it slipped out so naturally, with such ease, you didn’t even have the chance to second-guess yourself. “Your only fault is the way you treat yourself.”

Chan didn’t appear convinced. He shuffled his feet from side to side, hands heavy in the pocket of his hoodie. Restless, ashamed. Still not looking you in the eye. You weren’t grateful for it anymore; you missed his gaze. Dark and reflective, kind and curious. Seeing right through you, even with all its flickering around. 

“Maybe I needed to be put in that position,” you continued. “I was just too much of a coward to take it. B-because you were right. I try to be everything for people, then I end up being nothing. I was so afraid I was going to do that to you—or even worse. I was afraid I was going to be the one taking everything from you.”

“Why would you ever think that?” he sounded so helpless, like you were communicating in two completely foreign tongues. No room for speaking in riddles. “I saw every little way you cared for me. Always. Did you think I didn’t?”

Challenging him meant challenging yourself. You’d taken the plunge acutely aware of that fact, this time. Still, the panic rose in your chest all over again, the itch in your feet goaded you to turn and run.

“I know you did. And that’s more than enough for me.” You forced yourself to take a step forward instead, desperate to get through to him, desperate to reach him. “But when you do these things for me at your own expense…when you don’t tell me about it, don’t you see how that could scare me? As someone who cares about you?”

In all the time you’d known Chan, you’d never once have guessed that he could be so difficult. But if that unshakeable stubbornness would emerge over anything, of course it would be this. He would never make things difficult for anyone but himself. You still remembered how plainly he’d said it, how bleak and merciless and cold it had been: “It doesn’t matter.”

You could tell he sensed how on-edge you were, how laughably out of your element something like this was for you. But you were pushing yourself—for him. So, like a true reflection, he matched you.

“I guess I was scared, too,” he admitted quietly. “It’s been the only thing I know how to do for so long. I thought…I-I thought you’d leave if I did anything else. Because why else would you stay, y’know?”

You’d known it. Even before he’d bared himself to you, even before you’d had the knowledge to connect all the dots, you’d felt it, deep within you. But that didn’t make hearing him say it out loud any less devastating.

“I don’t love you because of what you can do for me, Chan.”

His eyes shot up at last. Wide, intense, searching. Realigning with you. A break in the fog that had been clouding your view of each other for the past five days.

It may have been unfair—cruel, even—to say now. But you needed him to hear it, even if this was the end of the road for you and him. You needed to at least plant the seed in his mind with the hopes that one day, with enough care, it might sprout into something beautiful.

“You’re worth so much as you are,” you tried to get a handle on the shake creeping into it. “You do so much for me just by being yourself.”

Chan blinked. Pupils darting between you and the floor, hands slipping from his pockets, face muscles twisting in an internal conflict. You could see him physically exerting all his willpower to not reject the idea—to dare to accept a love so unconditional, solely so that you might accept it in return.

“If I told you the same thing,” he began slowly. “Would you believe me?”

You sucked in a deep breath. “I can learn to believe it.”

His fingers flexed. You realized for the first time how close the distance between you and him had become—drifting towards each other involuntarily. That inevitable, magnetic pull, more powerful than any of the forces you’d studied in four years.

“Okay.” He was reaching out for you. “Then, how about we learn together, yeah?”

Your heart jumped against your ribcage. Over his words. Over the sight of his pinky, held out in earnest despite you giving it such little reason to ever do so again, waiting patiently to curl against yours. 

You’d believe in anything that connected you to him.

“Together.”

Just as quickly as things had fallen apart, the foundation was laid out for them to be put back together. A steady foundation, built to last. Your belief that day had turned out to be true, after all. Everything always worked out when you talked to Chan. When you leaned into him. When you didn’t run.

Heat rippled through you the instant your fingers entwined, fiercer, more all-consuming than even the first time you’d ever touched. Still, neither of you pulled away. For the first time in five days, you were warm again.

The new, unspoken promise igniting to life between you reminded you of another; one that you’d let sit on your ledger for far too long. One you’d made so carelessly to the boy who deserved all the care in the world. The boy who treated you with all the care in the world.

“I’m going to be more selfish from now on.” You tightened your hold on his pinky, creating a fresh buzz of heat. “Because I want you to be, too.”

You thought you were hallucinating it for a second, the beginnings of a grin on Chan’s face. Soft cheeks rising, not enough to draw out his dimples or eclipse his eyes, but enough to make you certain of your decision. The key you’d tossed out a year and a half ago was in that smile.

“Guess I’ve got no choice but to mirror you.”

“That’s right,” any firmness it might’ve had was lost to a smile of your own. Exhausted, but tragically enamored with the boy in front of you. “Since you wanna be my other half so bad, and all.”

He giggled. Short, sweet, playing the strings of your heart like a harp. Or, rather, its melody was the sound of your heart.

“I’m gonna tell you some things,” you warned. “And they’re not going to be nice. Or good. Is that okay?”

“Anything.” He unhooked his pinky from yours, only to wiggle his sleeve back and weave all of your fingers together instead. Five fingers, one for each of the days you’d spent apart. Your palm pressed against his, pumping faintly with your quickening pulse. “Tell me anything.”

You inhaled. Better to start with something smaller, first. A test run in this whole emotional openness thing.

“About Minho…”

“He gave you plenty of trouble, didn’t he?”

You puffed out a soft laugh. “Well, I gave him some back.”

“I scolded him,” Chan mumbled. “A lot. Bin did, too.”

You tried not to feel too satisfied about it. The idea of Chan, so doting, so unabashed in his adoration for the younger boy, rebuking him, addressing him with anything but overflowing fondness. You would take it as a small, private victory—one that Minho didn’t need to know about now that you’d both chosen to bury the hatchet.

“But…I hope you won’t think badly of him. He means well, really. He’s—”

“Soft at heart, right?” you finished for him. “It’s okay, we talked it out in the end. I think."

“Yeah,” he sighed. “Yeah, he told me.”

You could’ve laughed. Lee Minho. You never thought you’d see the day where the mention of him wouldn’t be promptly followed by a wave of absolute revulsion. You wondered if he was the reason Chan had even agreed to see you today. You wondered if he was the reason Chan had only been ten minutes away from your apartment before you’d even sent him a message.

“I just wish you’d told me.”

I wish you’d told me. They were words you’d said to him so many times, words you’d wanted to say on even more occasions. But it was in your hands, now. You were in each other’s hands, now. You didn’t have to wish anymore.

“I know.” You gave his palm a squeeze. “But you can see why I didn’t, right?”

He nodded, sheepish, well aware that it was a pointed question.

“A lot of the things Minho did were to protect you,” you murmured. “But, a lot of the things he said were things someone else once said to me. I guess it made them easier to believe.”

Chan’s thumb glided delicately across the back of your hand. You knew he could predict where this was going.

“When you told me about what happened two years ago, I think I related to you a lot. I think it was one of those shared experiences you talked about.”

Each sentence felt like it was being dragged out of you, uprooted. But it was necessary. Clearing the weeds out to make room for something less parasitic—maybe, even flowers. “My last relationship was with someone who took a lot out of me, too. He needed someone to depend on. I…I wanted to be that for him.”

“I know you did.” Gentle, sad. A tenderness for you and, hopefully, himself. It gave you the strength to keep going.

“He needed so many things, felt so many things. All his emotions became mine until I didn’t have any for myself,” you were losing control of your voice again. “I didn’t understand how you could ever blame yourself for what that girl did to you. But, really, I’ve always blamed myself, too. Because I let him rely on me. I promised to be everything for him, then I left.”

“But he never let you rely on him, did he?” Chan didn’t miss a beat, like he already knew the answer. “He wanted you to carry it all yourself.”

You averted your stare. “M-maybe. And maybe I wanted that, too. Some people just need more support than others, y’know? I thought I could handle it.”

You always thought you could handle it, even when every past experience proved otherwise. That was yet another thing Minho had been right about. You’d driven yourself mad repeating the same cycle over and over again, deluding yourself into thinking it could ever turn out any different.

“Nobody needs no support at all,” he pointed out. “Not even someone as strong as you.”

Strong. Hearing the word come out of his mouth—his perfect mouth, in that light, melodic voice—pricked at your eyes. It was a term you’d never once thought to describe yourself with. It was the exact opposite of everything you’d come to believe about yourself. You wanted to reject it, to crush the idea before letting it get to your head. But how could you, when it came from the strongest person you knew? How could you do anything but cling to it, cherish it?

“I don’t know if I’m strong,” you muttered, blinking away what was sure to come eventually. “It’s just that every time I’ve tried to lean on someone, they let me fall. So it’s better to stand on my own.”

“Yeah. I understand."

You knew that much was true. You knew, painfully well, how much he understood. And you knew he still thought you were strong.

“I…” Everything had been put into place—or, rather, everything had been properly displaced—for the dam to break loose. Tentatively, lovingly, he was helping you pull out each log. It filled you with fear, down to every last fiber of your being, but you knew that you could break in front of him. He wouldn’t crumble with you. He wouldn’t shatter over the mere prospect of you expressing an emotion of your own. He’d let you release, and when it was all over, he’d help you pick up the pieces. Just as you had with him.

“I lost my friend last year.”

“Lost…?”

“I mean, she passed away—last summer. She was in an accident back home.”

Such a common way to die for someone who was anything but. Such a special person to become part of such an ordinary statistic. Chan’s face morphed into something heartbreaking, a look that told you he felt everything you were feeling in that moment. The gears were turning in his head, you could see it unfolding through your blurred vision. That was why you hadn’t wanted to return home over the summer. That was why you’d come back to him so soon.

“I’m so sorry.”

You knew he wasn’t only giving his condolences, he was apologizing for ever cornering you to reveal it. For forcing you to unveil the wound that had been festering for so long. Bleeding with no signs of stopping, neglected with no signs of healing.

“It’s okay, I—” A lump rose in your throat. “I need to talk about it, I think. Never really did.”

His hand tugged at yours, just barely, uncertain. Always hesitant to pull you as close as he really wanted. You leaned forward all at once, falling into him. And he caught you.

“Never?” 

“I tried once.” You rested your head against him, and his arms locked securely around you straight away. No room for you to fear, even for a second, that he might let you fall. “I tried to tell him. He always said he felt bad that he wasn’t there for me like I was for him. B-but…” The wave was rising again. “He just left.”

You couldn’t see Chan’s expression, you weren’t sure if you wanted to. You didn’t want to know what anger might look like on such an angelic face. But you could feel it, his jaw clenching, his muscles tensing. You figured he must look something like you had that night in October, struggling to maintain the delicacy in your movements as he revealed things that had filled you with a protective fire.

“He left?” Chan repeated, strained. “He left you like that?”

“Yeah. I-I guess it made him feel worse to be there.”

His hand began to run slowly up and down your back; drawing out your pain and soothing it simultaneously. When he spoke again, his tone was softer. He’d put his anger to the side, just as you had that night. “It must have been lonely for you.” 

Lonely. Something else you’d never once considered. Something else that became so obvious only once he’d said it. You’d always been surrounded by people, but they were all flocking to a version of you that didn’t exist. A version you’d let them believe was real, because that was so much easier. Maybe the version of you, in your truest form, had been lonely.

“A little.” You buried your nose into his hoodie. No scent of sweet citrus today, no vanilla cherry blossom. Just him. “I think she’s the only one I could’ve talked to about it. She…she was a lot like you, in some ways.”

Something seemed to dawn on Chan, because he gripped you a little tighter, pulled you impossibly closer. The realization that the universe had taken away the only person you’d ever come to rely on. Of course you would be terrified to ever let anyone take that role again.

“She sounds exactly the kind of friend you deserve,” his voice rumbled softly where you rested against his chest. “You can tell me about her. About it all. I’m here to listen.”

“I want to,” you took in a sharp inhale. “But I think I’m going to cry.”

“You can do that, too.” 

The wave engulfed you in full. For the first time since the day you’d lost her, you allowed yourself to cry over her.

Given how long you’d been holding it in, it didn’t come out nearly as explosive as you’d expected. The tears slipped from your eyes and down your cheeks without a sound, but they came and came and came. Each hot stream was immediately followed by a fresh one, a buildup of all the sorrow you’d kept sealed inside you for the past year and a half, and all the years before that. You didn’t sob or wail or scream out, but with how tightly Chan was holding you, you were certain he felt every tremor, every subdued hiccup, every droplet soaking through his clothes.

“It’ll be okay, one day,” he promised. “You’ll remember all the happy times with her. That’s something you can never lose.”

You hoped it was true. You hoped that one day, you could step off the train in your hometown, take in the pine-tinged summer air, pick a chrysanthemum from that flower stall, and remember her with that warm, glowing ball of light you used to carry in your chest.

Chan didn’t stop rubbing your back the entire time you cried. He didn’t stop enveloping you in his warmth. He didn’t stop humming sweetly in your ear. 

He didn’t leave.

The tears eventually stopped flowing, not because it didn’t hurt anymore—you just didn’t think your body could keep up. No amount of tears could ever live up to your grief for her. But your breathing slowed, your shaking steadied, and, as much as your head positively throbbed, a sense of tranquility came with it, one you couldn’t remember the last time you’d felt.

“Thank you, Channie,” you mumbled. “Thank you for being here.”

“Thank you for trusting me.”

After everything you’d put him through the past five days, after he’d listened to you so intently and patiently as you poured your heart out, after he’d comforted you when he was still in such a fragile state himself, he was thanking you. It was hopeless. You would fall in love with him over and over again, every moment you spent with him. 

“Have you…” he hesitated. “Have you ever thought about talking to someone? About everything?”

“No,” you choked out a sad laugh. “Not really.”

Chan hummed again, quiet. He rested his hand on the back of your head, as if to pull you so far into him that you’d meld fully together.

“You shouldn’t torture yourself anymore,” he murmured.

“Neither should you.”

So immediate, so resolute, it made him stiffen against you.

“My stuff doesn’t compare to any of this.”

“That’s not true. You’ve only told me the half of it, haven’t you?” You curled your fingers a bit tighter around his hoodie. “You've been through so much to become this strong, haven’t you?”

The peaceful drag of his hand finally stopped. When he spoke, his voice was thick with emotion. He'd been holding it together up until now, for you, even if your every tremble and sniffle made his chest ache like your pain was his own.

“Maybe,” he rasped. 

“So, let’s work towards something better. Together.”

“Together,” he agreed.

You raised your head at last, squeezing your eyes shut so that any remaining trace of tears trickled free. Chan reached up to swipe the droplets away with his thumb, soaking his bandaid. Still, neither of you let go. There were so many things to let go of, but not each other.

“I finished Placebo,” he said softly. “Do you want to hear it?”

The final promise that had yet to be fulfilled.

“Yeah,” you smiled. Weak, a piteous sight, probably, but genuine. “It makes me happy.”

You were lulled back to that day in April, seated next to Chan in the warm, coffee-infused atmosphere of the library, trying not to fall head over heels in love with him right then and there while he played the instrumental for you with a giddiness so uncontainable that he had to bite down on his fist. As you heard Placebo’s lyrics for the first time—lyrics that had gone through countless rearrangements, rewrites, and delays—you decided it must’ve been fate that it had been brought to completion now, of all times. You felt Chan in every line, every vitalizing beat, every nostalgic melody of the synth. You understood it better now than you ever would have back then.

But just as you’d predicted on that warm day in April, it became your new favorite.

。⋆。˚ ʚïɞ ˚。⋆。⋆。˚ ʚïɞ ˚。⋆。⋆。˚ ʚïɞ ˚。⋆。

The sun had been shining for two days straight. Bright, unobstructed by a single cloud, bathing everything in gold. It filtered through the blinds of your window, casting a delicate pattern of light on Chan’s face and creating quite possibly the most breathtaking view you’d ever seen. And you were warm. Warm against each other.

His curls were free, messy, tousled as you combed through them. You relished in every ringlet dancing between your fingers, in each content sound he let slip when your nails grazed his scalp. You brushed his bangs back, revealing his face to you in full—droopy eyes, big, adorable nose, soft cheeks, faintly freckled skin, every feature illuminated with nowhere to hide—then allowed them to fall into his eyes once more. The dark locks moved as one, a fluffy unit. He wasn’t taking care of them properly. You wanted to wash them again, give them the treatment they deserved.

Chan watched you the entire time you played with his hair, curious, mesmerized. Every flop of his curls against his forehead made him giggle, and so, you did it again and again. You couldn’t help it. After five days without him, without that sweet, harmonious sound, you could listen to him laugh for hours on end and still yearn for more.

But his lips were getting poutier with every card of your fingers, his thighs were shifting beneath you more and more. Impatient, even if he didn’t say it out loud. He didn’t have to say a thing for you to hear him willing you to do it, begging you to do it. So, you leaned in and kissed him.

He sighed into it, just like he always did. But it was higher in pitch this time, involuntary, a neediness he typically tried to suppress until later down the line when it grew into something unbearable. He was already so vocal, so responsive, but today, he needed you more than ever. Every gap, every crevice between your bodies, he needed filled with you.

His lips consumed your senses, plush and plump and warm. They moved against yours seamlessly, encasing you in his softness, matching your rhythm, every part and pucker. So attentive, even through his haze of longing. It was familiar, the most natural thing in the world, yet still something you’d never get used to—something you never wanted to get used to. How his lips chased yours so insatiably, how they warmed you to your very core.

You were both breathless when you broke apart. That was nothing new either, you would kiss each other until your lungs cried out and then some. With the way Chan hardly pulled back, mouth ghosting just a centimeter away as you panted lightly in unison, you might’ve thought he needed to kiss you more than he needed oxygen. You took his lower lip between your teeth, nibbling delicately just to get a taste of him while the two of you caught your breath.

“Missed you,” he whimpered. “God, I missed you.”

Your chest ached. 

“I know, baby.” 

Giving his bottom lip a light tug, you released it. You could tell his head was starting to go fuzzy, it was far more important for you to speak clearly. You rested your hand on his curls again, trying to keep yourself composed for his sake—even if your body was screaming for you to take him back and take him back now. “I know. I missed you, too.”

“Don’t leave me, please?” For once, a selfish request. 

He pecked the corner of your mouth as he said it, then your jaw, growing less controlled the further down he moved. He was getting lost in you, he wanted to lose himself in you and never find his way out again.

“Never,” you assured him. 

“Promise?” 

He nuzzled his nose into your neck, lips pressing urgent kisses to every spot of flesh they touched. Gentle and intense, hot and wet. They cooled your skin and set it ablaze, all at once. 

You’d gone five days without each other before—even longer, on particularly hectic weeks—but it had never been anything like this. After the emptiness that came in your time apart, the holes that had been left behind where you’d ripped yourself away from him, you wanted every kiss absorbed into your skin, filling them up one by one. You found yourself wondering, for what was neither the first nor the last time, how you’d ever managed to trick yourself into thinking you could be without him. You couldn’t even take him in moderation.

“I promise,” you murmured. “I'm not going anywhere, I promise.”

Chan whined, opening his mouth against the edge of your collarbone, sucking, tongue flickering lightly against it. You allowed him to, petting his head, humming sweetly to him as he covered every inch he roamed with that irresistible heat.

His restlessness beneath you grew more obvious—squirming. He ran his hands up and down your sides, feeling and grabbing and holding onto you like you might disappear if he didn’t. His usual hesitance to touch was nowhere to be found today, far overpowered by his hunger for you. You adjusted your position in his lap, and the beginnings of his desire brushed against your thigh, adorably transparent as always. It made your own self-control slip just a bit. Suddenly, his clothes were forming far too thick of a barrier between you and him for your liking.

You pulled gently at his hair, catching his attention enough for him to lift his head from your neck. His lips were already swelling, deepening from that pretty pink shade into something even more addictive. His eyes were dark, dilated, and so hopeful, like he didn’t already know where this was going. Like he had no idea that you craved him every bit as much as he craved you.

“It’s getting warm, huh, Channie?”

“Mhm.” He rested his cheek against your palm. “You’re so warm.”

“Let’s get you out of this, then.” You reached down to dip your fingers under the hem of his sweater. Reluctant to let go for even a moment, Chan kept his hands close to you, wiggling around as best as he could to help you slip the garment off. He blinked his eyes open once you’d pulled it over his head, catching a glimpse of his reflection in your dresser mirror, directly across from where the two of you sat tangled up in each other. It made his stomach drop a bit. Hair unkempt, eyes sunken, face puffy from what was a concerning lack of rest over the past week, even by his standards.

His gaze averted, flickering right back to you the instant he took in his appearance. Brief as the action was, it wasn’t lost on you, twisting your emotions and resurfacing an idea in your mind—one that had been brewing ever since the day of the showcase, where Chan had avoided looking into the bathroom mirror like his life depended on it.

You cupped his cheeks, pushing them together just enough for his lips to pucker.

“You’re glowing, Channie,” you marveled. “You’re so beautiful.”

He furrowed his brows. “I’m not.”

You pressed your thumbs into his skin, chiding. “The light’s hitting your face so perfectly. You look like an angel.” 

Chan’s breath quickened, another deflection building in his throat. You slid your hands down from his face, allowing the golden rays of the sun to fully illuminate him, just as they illuminated the moon. 

“I…” he chuckled. “Th-thank you, but I’m a mess.”

You frowned, placing your hands over his. Panic struck when you urged him to unlatch his fingers from your hips, you could tell by the way he gripped you just a bit tighter. It was another pang to your chest. Somewhere in the depths of his mind, that reflex had been ingrained. But you weren’t going to leave him, not even for a second. You kept your hands firmly rested on his shoulders as you hoisted yourself off his lap and settled down right behind him on the mattress. Comforting him with your touch, reminding him that you were there.

You peered into the mirror from over Chan’s shoulder, met with the gorgeous sight of his bare upper half and, unsurprisingly, his head ducked in embarrassment. A mop of dark curls shielding him from himself. 

“You should try looking at yourself through my eyes,” you suggested. “You might like what you see.”

He glanced up to meet your stare in the mirror, stubbornly set on ignoring his own figure. You dragged your hands along his tense shoulders, feeling up the warm expanse of skin, the curves of his muscles—taut, yet tender.

“Rather look at you,” he said softly.

Affection swelled inside you, but you were determined to maintain your resolve, even when faced with an opponent as formidable as Chan’s oblivious charm. 

“Why?” You faked a pout. “You’ve already got such a pretty view right here.”

You lowered yourself to brush your lips against his neck, almost completely out of sight. He all but jolted as you pressed an open-mouthed kiss right below his jawline, just as reactive as your first night together. Just as honest and open and just as painfully cute. Your hand slipped over his shoulder to take hold of his chin, tilting it up, exposing his throat fully to you and encouraging him to look at himself.

“You’re a gorgeous boy, Channie.” Your words melted right into his ear. “Everyone can see it.”

You pressed another kiss to the juncture of his shoulder and neck—his weak spot. With how sensitive he was, every part of his body may as well have been his weak spot, but the sound he let out as you grazed your teeth over it was like no other. Sweet and pleading in the back of his throat. It spiked in volume when you closed your mouth over the patch of skin, unconcerned this time over whether or not the mark would show. He wanted it to. And, selfishly, so did you.

“I-I don’t see it,” he stuttered at last. “I can’t.”

Your tsk of disapproval was met with another shaky sigh as you ran your tongue over the fresh lovebite. It soothed his burning skin, fogged up any remaining space in his head. You took a moment to admire the blooming red ring before gliding your lips over to a new spot to sully. He was yours, even untouched, but you wanted to leave traces of yourself everywhere, to make him a part of you in every sense.

“Look at yourself, baby,” you ordered gently.

His Adam's apple bobbed under your mouth, swallowing down his misgivings and finding the courage to comply. Before he even locked eyes with himself in the mirror, his ears were already flushing at their tips.

“There we go. Good boy.”

The praise eased his mind a bit, but you could still feel his heartbeat racing under your kisses, pulsing beneath your traveling fingers. All simply because of the sight of himself—a sight you wanted engraved permanently into your memories, just as badly as he wanted it removed from his. 

“Look at all these muscles. So big and strong.” You flattened your palms against his broad shoulders, trailing slowly, appreciatively, down to his biceps. Arms you used to dream about having bulge beneath your hands. Arms you had at your mercy, even in all their strength. Because it was a strength used solely to protect others, never to harm.

You wrapped your fingers around the defined muscles, too large to even close your grip entirely around. They flexed under your touch—a detail you found adorable, strangely enough.

“D-do you…” Chan licked his lips. “D’you like them?”

You smiled against his skin. Such an endearingly Chan question. Setting himself up for a response that he wouldn’t be able to handle; a response that was sure to set his face on fire and put a stammer in his speech.

“I might like them too much,” you admitted. “So pretty to look at. So irresistible to touch. So cute when I hold them down,” you mumbled the compliments between each kiss you peppered along his arm veins, protruding from his nervous hold on the sheets. “So strong, but so weak for me.”

Chan’s reaction didn’t disappoint, cheeks heating up instantly to match the burn of his ears, dimples making a timid appearance. Anything he attempted to say was lost in the shy, breathless laugh he sputtered out. You knew right about now that he was wishing he had some kind of cap, beanie—anything to pull over his face and hide away. To hear your doting words without having to face himself. Maybe then, he’d believe them.

“You work so hard, don’t you, Channie?” you cooed. “Such a strong, beautiful body for a strong, beautiful boy.”

“A-ah…please.” Chan fought back the impulse to cross his arms over his torso, solely because he didn’t want to lose the feeling of your mouth ravishing them. Instead, he squeezed his eyes closed, too flustered to bear. Your hands found his chest without warning, cupping his pecs and making him squeak. He sank his teeth into his bottom lip, a split second too late in trying to mask the pitiful noise.

“You have no idea what you do to me.” You dug your nails delicately into his chest, just enough to make him shudder. “I can’t believe you’re mine.”

To that, he didn’t object. “Yours, ‘m all yours.” It was eager, immediate, accompanied by a tilt of his head. Urging you to make it known, to leave marks of yourself all over his neck until it belonged just as much to you as it did him. 

“All mine.” You rolled his nipples delicately between your fingers, earning a broken whimper that made heat pool in your stomach. “My pretty boy.”

Chan jerked forward, every intoxicating word of praise, every drop of your attention making his arousal skyrocket. With his eyes still shut tight, all his other senses were on high alert. The serene sound of your voice reverberated all around him, the deliberate care of your touch sent tremors up his spine. You roamed further down his body, fingertips dancing over his lean abdomen, tracing the outlines of his muscles. His stomach clenched as you did; exhilarated, rising and falling with each rapid breath. He felt so vulnerable—all his pleasure, all his comfort, all his worth in the palm of your hand. More exposed than ever, yet somehow, safer than ever. He could stay blind through it all and trust you to guide him to the other side.

“Open your eyes for me, baby.”

He pressed his lips together, protest cut short when you inched dangerously close to where he needed you most.

“There,” he gasped out. “There, please.”

Mischievously, you pinched the skin right above his waistband, satisfaction rushing through you when he throbbed in the confines of his sweatpants. “Where?” you questioned, deceptively innocent. “You have to look and see.”

You drifted further down, skimming the softness of his hips and stroking his tensed thigh. “Here?”

“No,” he huffed, face scrunching in frustration. “Please, ‘s too embarrassing.”

Your hum was full of sympathy, but your hand said otherwise, moving along his inner thigh and giving it a light squeeze. “How about here?”

You knew what was coming by now. So, you snaked your legs around his waist from behind, prying his thighs apart before they could clamp together reflexively. The added contact only made Chan’s composure weaken further, a low groan spilling out of him. Practically every part of your body was pressed against his—head tucked into his neck, chest rubbing against his back, hands grasping him wherever they slid, thighs resting on his—but it wasn’t enough. He needed more before he crumbled completely against you. Or, rather, he needed more to crumble completely against you.

His eyes snapped open at last, hazy, disoriented. He blinked a few times to readjust his vision, taking in the view before him. His puffed, rosy cheeks, his neck, painted with deep, crimson marks, his arms and torso, lined with the faint drag of your nails. Every part of himself that he chose to focus on was evidence of you on his body.

“Beautiful,” you said firmly.

“Ah…th-thank you.”

His reflection peered back at him, nowhere to hide. But with it, he found his other reflection, one he could admire so wholeheartedly, one he could never run out of things to love about. When at your side, maybe he didn’t look so bad.

Your lips were by his ear again, he felt your breath fanning softly next to it, saw your mouth opening unexpectedly close to his piercing—so close that he thought you may take it between your teeth again. He wasn’t sure he’d be able to contain himself if you did.

“Where do you want me to touch you, Channie?” you whispered.

His stare dropped to your hand, more than ready for any excuse to redirect his attention from himself. You rubbed gentle circles into his thighs, traveling upwards at an agonizingly slow place. Chan sucked in through his teeth, a fresh wave of embarrassment passing over him when his dick twitched again, as if it was crying out the answer for him.

“My baby’s so shy,” you remarked playfully. “But your body isn't.”

He squirmed between your legs with a sound of pure helplessness, too worked up to handle your teasing properly—not that he ever really handled it well, in the first place. 

“P-please, need you so bad.”

You softened. “I’m here.”

His eyes followed your movements in a glimmer of hope, fixated on your hand like a puppy would with its favorite treat. When you came to brush over his bulge at last, his hips shot forward, pressing into your palm in a way that made your stomach flutter, and his twist with pleasure. He didn’t even have the chance to feel humiliated about it, not when you finally curled your fingers around him like he’d been longing for so intently, so fiercely that even thinking straight had become a challenge for him.

“Is this it?” you asked sweetly.

“Mmph, yes. There, please.”

You gave him a squeeze, feeling up the shape of his length through his sweatpants. So hard without a single touch to it, more than ready for you—desperate for you. It made the ache between your own legs take over in full. Restraint slipping, you dipped your fingers below his waistband to tug his sweatpants off. Chan reacted immediately, scrambling to raise himself from the mattress just enough for you to slide them down along with his underwear. You couldn’t even find the patience in you to remove the garments entirely, instead letting them rest halfway down his legs.

Chan’s gaze flickered back to you in the mirror, just in time to catch the way your eyes gleamed at the sight of his bare body. Length glistening with precum, pressed and dripping against his stomach. Milky thighs, dotted with delicate moles you could kiss endlessly. But you wanted to leave a different kind of mark on them, today. You ran your hands along his flesh—gentle, pacifying—then dragged your nails back up all at once, raking his skin and leaving a trail of pale lines that quickly deepened in shade. Chan inhaled sharply, throwing his head back against your shoulder, muscles constricting under your fingers.

“Pretty little thing,” you crooned. “You’re unreal.”

There was no time for him to recover—not from the delicious sting on his thighs, not from your doting words—before you took his cock into your hold at last. It sent a ripple of heat all throughout his body, almost enough to make him unravel right then and there.

You gave him a few careful pumps, delighted by the sheer amount of wetness that had dribbled from his tip, allowing you to move with ease. Using your free hand, you nudged his head from your shoulder to direct him back to the mirror. Despite knowing full well that the visual he’d be met with would turn his brain to mush, he obeyed. He would do anything you so much as suggested in that moment.

“You’re just like that moon you love so much,” you murmured. “You know that, Channie?”

It pierced through the lust occupying his thoughts, pulling him out from his haze just enough to string together a feeble response. “What—ah. What d’you mean?”

He tried not to let the sight of your fingers, sticky with his arousal, gliding up and down his most intimate spot, twisting and teasing in all the right ways like you knew his body better than he did, distract him from what you said next. If there was anything to focus on, it was you. 

“The moon can only see itself reflected in the water.” You swirled your thumb along his slit, using your other hand to run the pads of your fingers tenderly along his cheek. The combination was enough to make him dizzy. So much love, so much pleasure. He didn’t know how to handle it. He would never know how to handle it. “It doesn’t see its own beauty or light. Just the way it gets distorted by the ripples all around it.”

Before he could even fully process the comparison, Chan’s eyes began to water. This time, you knew without a shadow of a doubt that it was happiness imbued in those tears. A happiness the both of you still needed adjusting to.

“So, look at yourself clearly, now,” you encouraged, pressing a kiss to his temple. “Look at your reflection when it isn’t broken.”

It may have been too much for him at once; such adoration amidst everything else he was experiencing. The stimulation to every last one of his nerve endings, the bliss consuming his body and mind, robbing him of any coherent thought. But you needed to say it just as much as he needed to hear it. You wanted all the pleasure, all the love he felt in that moment to be associated with himself.

“O-oh, wow,” he choked out. “I…I don’t…”

I don’t deserve this. You could hear it on the tip of his tongue, clear as day. But he was too awestruck to protest, too awestruck to even speak. You felt a tinge of protectiveness—he was so far gone.

“D-dunno what to s-say,” he stammered. You knew it was taking every ounce of his strength not to bury his face into the crook of your neck, to let himself go completely and forget about anything that wasn’t you.

“It’s okay, Channie. You don’t have to say anything. Just look.”

You studied him in the mirror, nearly melting when you noticed him blinking the few, fragile droplets from his eyes—listening diligently to you, clearing his vision from any water that might distort it. He drank in his reflection in full, stiff, uneasy, but relaxing slightly between your legs when you pressed another kiss to his cheek.

“So pretty, every inch of you.” Your hand resumed its stroking, sliding down to the base of his length, cupping him gently. “Even prettier when you’re filling me up.”

“Oh my gosh,” he gasped, jerking in your grip. Even with the mirror there to guide him, he struggled to coordinate his hand movements, pawing aimlessly behind him to find some part of you to grab onto, some part of you to anchor himself with. “Please, please. Wanna feel you.”

“I know, baby boy,” you shushed him. “You’re dripping so much. Poor thing.”

You dragged your index finger along the underside of his cock one last time before pulling away with a light flick. Chan barely stopped himself from surging forward, chasing your hand like an instinct. That, coupled with the mewl he let out when he registered the sudden loss of your body heat around him, tugged at your heart just as much as it spiked your adrenaline. You made quick work of removing your clothes, well aware of his eyes, wide as moons, watching you undress through the mirror, waiting for you to return to him. Restless, yearning, but obedient above all else.

He reached for you the instant you settled back in his lap, hovering over your waist for just a second before ultimately latching on, skin on skin, a whole new layer of heat. You took his length back into your grasp, turning your body so that you were both facing your dresser mirror. You could hear Chan’s breathing pick up behind you, feel his chest expanding against your back.

“See that, Channie?” You dragged the head of his dick along your folds, coating it with your own wetness. “Just looking at you gets me like this.”

If all you’d said wasn’t enough, maybe the physical proof of his effects on you would help do the trick. A sweet, desperate vocalization, so rife with need that you could practically taste it, was all he could manage. It morphed into a moan as you sank down on him all at once—loud, absolutely shameless. You would never think it came from the boy who couldn’t even catch a glimpse of himself without being reduced to a flustered wreck. Just as your heat engulfed him, his engulfed you. It came more intensely than ever before, more staggering than even your first time together, bolting through your veins and making you suppress a gasp. You clenched around his cock, relishing in the feeling of him pressed so snugly inside you, as close as physically possible. So comforting in its familiarity, so exhilarating in its return. It was something you could only describe as relief, relief in the warmth, the fullness, the completion you brought to each other.

Chan’s head fell forward with a whimper, chin resting against your shoulder, clinging to you so tightly that it was difficult to move. You weren’t even sure if he was aware of it, a subconscious desire to stay buried inside you, not wanting to lose the security of your walls wrapped around him for even a second. 

“Missed you so much,” he slurred into your skin. “W-wanna stay like this forever.”

You reached back to cradle his head, running your fingers through his hair. “I missed you too, angel. Missed the way you fill me up so perfectly.”

You lifted yourself until just the head of his cock was left pulsing inside you. When you noticed Chan’s blissed out expression in the mirror—eyes fluttered shut, lips swollen against your shoulder, eyebrows knitted together—a golden opportunity presented itself. It took him a second or two to realize that you weren’t sliding back down, another soft plea rumbling in his throat, vibrating into your skin. You gave his scalp an affectionate scratch, prompting him to look. This time, he listened without question, driven solely by the need to feel your wet heat around him again.

“Good boy.” You took him back inside immediately, not keen on being apart for much longer, either. He gritted his teeth as you did, trying his best to keep his gaze leveled with his reflection for you, for your satisfaction, for your approval. But nothing could’ve prepared him for what came out of your mouth next. 

“See how perfect you look when you’re inside me, Channie? See all the pretty faces you make? My pretty baby, feeling so good. Making me feel so good.”

At that, the precious little that had remained of Chan’s composure fizzled out completely. His hands flew up to cover his face, hot with shame, burning with arousal. The filthy sight of him pushing in and out of you, the wet sounds filling his ears, the teasing lilt of your voice. It was all too much. He shoved his nose into his palms, letting out a cute, mortified wail that echoed throughout the bedroom, mixing with your breathless giggles. 

Even as you continued riding him, he stayed hidden behind the safety net of his fingers, shyness turned back up to full blast with no signs of disappearing. It only added to the pressure building up inside your abdomen to see him so overwhelmed, each muffled grunt and soft whimper of his spurring you on. Your words from earlier rang truer than ever—he was so weak for you.

You allowed him to stay that way for the sake of his sanity, petting his head with a gentleness that contrasted the steady pace of your bouncing. It wasn’t until you felt his cock begin to jerk inside you that he pulled his hands away from his face with a choked noise, reaching out for you once more.

“Can’t take it—mmph—‘m getting close! ‘M s-sorry!”

His fingers dug deep into your flesh, igniting heat at every point of contact. You basked in the feeling for as long as you could, then halted your movements altogether, pulling off of him in one fell swoop. The loss made both of your bodies cry out in protest. Chan hiccuped pathetically, mouth falling open, confused blinks reflecting in the mirror when your softness, your warmth, escaped him without warning.

He trembled underneath you, tugging at your waist as he tried to get a handle on his voice. With care, you turned in his lap to come face to face with him again, moving slowly enough as not to break his hold on you, not even for a moment.

“Did I…” he panted. “Did I do something wrong?”

You brushed your thumb over his forehead, wiping away the beads of sweat that had begun to accumulate. “No, baby. You’re doing so well for me,” you assured him. “But you wanna finish together, don’t you?”

It was almost funny, in a sense, how the way Chan’s face lit up—how his features flooded with pure delight—made your heart flutter more than anything else. More than any irresistible sound he let out, more than any way he let you use his body to your heart’s content. You were just as captivated, just as endeared, just as hopelessly taken with him as that night in May, walking home alongside him under the moonlight and knowing your fate was sealed.

“Y-yeah, together. Together, please.” He leaned forward, nose finding your neck, taking in your scent. “Can we stay like this? Wanna see you.”

Your hand found his length again, wrapping just tight enough around it to make him jolt. “Hm…you can see me in the mirror though, can’t you?”

“Please,” he repeated, pouty lips brushing against your skin. “Only wanna see you. Need you.”

You relented. Regardless of how badly you wanted to get the message across to him, regardless of how addictive you found the sight of him on display in ways you’d never seen before, you knew he’d just about reached his limit. And, well, maybe you needed him too. Needed to watch him fall apart right before your very eyes, needed to have every bit of your skin pressed against his, needed to kiss him when it all became too much for his foggy mind.

“You’re so cute. I’ve got you, baby.” You tilted his chin up with your free hand, half-lidded doe eyes finding yours. Knowing him, the eye contact wouldn’t last long before he was ducking away again. So, you took advantage of it, realigning him with you and watching his features flood with pleasure as you sank down on him once more. He had to stop himself from bucking up into you, body stiffening with effort, a breathy, grateful moan, nothing short of angelic, slipping past his lips.

“You’ve gotta hold on for a bit, alright?” You gave his shoulders a squeeze. “Let me know when you’re close. Can you do that for me, Channie?”

His arms wrapped around you in full, no longer content with just his hands on your waist. “Mhm.” He barely mustered up a nod, pulling himself closer to you in a way that burrowed his cock impossibly deeper inside. “Promise. W-wanna make you feel good, too. Wanna be a good boy for you.”

“My good boy,” you cooed. “See how well you fit inside me? See how good you make me feel?” You clenched around him as you dragged yourself up his length, snapping back down with a delicious speed. “You were made for me.”

“M-made for you,” he agreed, head falling forward to nestle into your chest. “Ah—fuck! You’re so warm. Feels s-so good.”

You dug your nails into his muscles, using your grip on him for leverage as you began working your way up to a pace even more vigorous than before. Immediately, the new angle took a toll on Chan. It allowed the head of his length to rub directly against your sweet spot with each rock of your hips, making the both of you shudder. You could feel his mouth fall open against you to let out an especially sharp cry, nibbling mindlessly at your flesh, matching your rhythm.

“You’re mine, t-too, right? Gonna stay with me?” he babbled into your skin. “Please, tell me you’ll stay. I’ll be good for you. P-please.”

The coil in your chest twisted just as tight as the one in your abdomen. You knew his thoughts were muddled, ridding him of any filter and making him ramble in the heat of the moment. But you also knew it stemmed from a very real fear, one that you would never feed into again.

“You’re already so good for me, Channie. You’re perfect. My perfect boy,” you spoke as steadily as your erratic movements and shaky breath would allow, ensuring that each reassurance found him. “I’m not going anywhere, okay? I’m here ‘cause I love you.”

Chan whined, ringing out loud and clear even through the softness of your chest. “Love you. I love you so much.” He nuzzled further into you, strengthening his hold around you, hands pawing at your sides. The words seemed to have opened the floodgates within him, like he’d been waiting to hear them—the catalyst for him to lose himself in you completely. “Love you, love you, love you. ‘M almost th-there.”

This time, there was a short delay before you could bring yourself to stop. You didn’t want to let go of him again, no amount of time would be tolerable enough. So, you stayed perfectly still, indulging selfishly in the feeling of him inside you without snapping the final thread just yet. Chan lifted his head, disoriented, biting down on his bottom lip to fight back a pathetic groan as his climax was denied once more. You could feel his thighs quivering under yours, his arms flexing around you, his cock twitching wildly against your walls. Every bit of his energy was being expended to hold himself together, to endure it however many times you saw fit.

“You’re doing so well, baby boy. Lasting so long for me.” You twirled a lock of his damp curls around your finger, hoping to keep him grounded enough to hang on just a bit more. 

“Y-yeah? ‘M doing okay?” He brushed his nose against yours, a silent plea that you understood all too well by now. “Making you feel good?”

“So good, Channie. I’m getting close, too.” You closed the gap between you and him before his wordless request became another whine, taking his swollen lips between yours. They were hot, pillowy, unbelievably wet. You tried your best not to flutter around him, but it was impossible not to when he was humming so eagerly into your mouth, kissing without an ounce of self-control left in his system. His movements were sloppy, uncoordinated, but each messy slide of his lips sent another jolt through your senses. The hug he’d enveloped you in loosened at last, hands wandering obsessively over your body until he found your chest. He paused for a moment, mumbling out something that made drool drip from the corner of his mouth.

“Mmph, c-can I? Wanna touch, please.”

Even now, he was clinging to the last few shreds of his rationality for you, thinking of you above all else when the promise of his climax was dangling right in front of his face. It took the arousal coursing through your veins to a whole new degree, so intensely that you had to stop yourself from sinking your teeth into his lips out of raw affection. 

“Go ahead, baby,” you murmured.

Chan cupped the soft flesh in an instant, sighing like he was slipping into a dream. His kisses became near-frantic, so drunk on you that he had trouble staying confined to just your lips, landing on the corner of your mouth, all over your cheeks, pecking and sucking any spot he could. Despite that, his hands were gentle, kneading at your flesh in a delicate back and forth pattern that calmed him and kindled a fresh warmth in your body. He was doing so well for you, trying his absolute best for you. You wanted to give him everything. You wanted to take his heart that he offered up to you so willingly, and give him yours in return.

“Ready to keep going, Channie? Can you take it?”

“Y-yeah. Yes, please,” he breathed. “Gonna do it for you. I’ll do anything.”

“My sweet boy.” You cupped his cheeks, steadying his clumsy kisses, but holding him just close enough to keep him content. He hissed softly as you began moving again, rolling your hips down so that his length grinded against your walls, stimulating every nerve-ending inside you. The heat building between your bodies became much harder to ignore, filling the air around you and seeping into your skin. It was heavy, thick, but it made you feel lighter than ever. Your high was drawing near, and, judging by the way Chan’s hips stuttered with less and less restraint, you knew he wouldn’t be able to hold back for much longer either.

The pads of his fingers dug into your breasts just as he let out a warning moan. “Oh God, ‘m sorry. Please, don’t wanna finish without you. So—ngh—close.”

You grinded down against him, spine tingling when Chan yelped in response, so sharp it almost sounded like he was in pain. “Mm, just a little more, baby boy. You can do that for me, can’t you?”

“I-I…oh, please,” he swallowed hard, eyebrows scrunching together as you dragged yourself all the way up his length, mind-numbingly slow. “Yeah, I can do it. I’ll be g-good.”

Your hands traveled up to his hair, tangling in his curls and pulling at them just hard enough to make goosebumps rise at his nape. “Channie listens so well,” you purred. “You were made to please, hm? Good boy, good boy.”

If your honeyed praises weren’t enough to push him alarmingly close to the edge, the way you squeezed around him as you sank back down, wrapping him in your heat all the way to his base surely was. Chan surged forward with a sob, head falling into your shoulder, fingers grasping at you helplessly.

“Your good boy,” he whimpered. “Please, please, ‘m not gonna l-last.”

You cradled the back of his head. “It’s too much, huh angel?” you pouted. “You can let it all out, now.”

“Together?” You could hear the strain in his voice, mere seconds away from losing it completely. “Together—ah—right?”

“Together.”

At that, you gave one last sloppy glide along his length, snapping the tension in both of you at once. Chan cried out, teeth grazing against your shoulder, hips surging up to push as far into you as your bodies would allow. A delicious heat seared through your senses, only amplified by the flood of his release coating your insides, stronger than ever from how long he’d been holding back. You tried to keep your own sounds under control, far more entranced by the ones slipping from his trembling lips. Mewls of your name, slurring out how much he loved you, chanting his gratitude like a mantra as you guided him through your shared high.

Minutes or hours could’ve passed and you wouldn’t have known the difference—you wouldn’t have minded either way. Eventually, the shivers in Chan’s body faded out, his panting evened into softer, more peaceful breaths. When he finally found it in him to pull his head from the comfort of your neck, droplets had begun to form in his eyes again. Not enough to spill down his cheeks quite yet, just enough to glaze his pupils over with happy tears, just enough to make them shine.

Your fingers danced absentmindedly in his hair, serving as a different pleasure from the kind that had just rocked your bodies. “You did so well for me, Channie. I’m proud of you.”

He blinked up at you. Slow, lazy, a dreamy smile tugging at his lips. “You’re s’ beautiful.”

“Sweet baby,” you murmured. “I hope you think the same when you see yourself.”

Anything he planned to say trailed off when you reached down for his hand, bringing it up to your lips. He was still buried deep inside you, hypersensitive to every little movement, every little touch, but he did his best not to squirm as you pressed kisses to his fingertips, paying extra attention to the fading cut on his thumb. The pain was long gone, now. Still, it made a few glistening tears trickle out delicately. You kissed them away, too.

“You’re still my favorite reflection.”

Shy, barely audible, but spoken with all the sincerity in the world. Butterflies erupted in your stomach. It was a start, at least. Maybe the parts of yourselves that you loved in each other, you could eventually come to love in yourselves.

“Can we—?”

“Stay like this?” you finished for him, a smile creeping up on your lips. “Yeah, we can.”

He bumped his forehead against yours, letting out an exhausted giggle, eyes crinkling and dimples flashing. He was glazed with sweat, skin sticky, damp curls pressed to his forehead, but he shone with every ray of light that slipped through your blinds.

The urge to check on him, to fuss over him, to care for him, still nagged at your mind. That was something that would never change. You wanted to clean him up, wash away the soreness and soothe the marks all over his body. But he didn’t need any of that right now. He just needed you. That was it. From day one, it had been as simple as that. You didn’t need to do anything. You didn’t need to prove anything. You just needed each other. Maybe, you could stay wrapped up in the mess you’d left on each other’s bodies for a while—bask in it, even. 

Chan’s innocent nuzzles inevitably led to another kiss. Soft, but just as hungry for you, just as desperate to stay immersed in this moment. You shifted slightly on his lap, making your heart jump and making him jolt against you. The poorly concealed sound that built up in his throat might’ve made you giggle if you didn’t need him just as much. No more limits. No more restraint. You didn’t have to worry about taking him in moderation.

You wanted each other endlessly. You fell into each other again and again.

。⋆。˚ ʚïɞ ˚。⋆。⋆。˚ ʚïɞ ˚。⋆。⋆。˚ ʚïɞ ˚。⋆。

A sudden buzz against your nightstand cut through the tranquil rhythm of breath that filled your bedroom, pulling you from the haze of sleep that had been pricking at your mind’s edges. It was a brief, low vibration, but still loud enough for you to worry that it may wake the boy in your arms. For once, you allowed yourself to be unavailable, not daring to disturb his peace for even a moment to roll over and read the notification. You already had a good idea of who it might be, anyway: Changbin, triple checking what time you’d all be meeting up for jjajangmyeon on Friday. The thought alone made fondness bubble up inside you, lips curling into a private smile. After four years of tardiness, absences, and missed deadlines, this was the one thing he was determined to be on time for.

Graduation was two days away. You and Changbin’s class ceremony would take place in the early morning, while Chan’s was scheduled for later that same night. Timed seamlessly with the rise of the sun and the moon. The finish line that you’d been terrified of for so long was a mere few steps away, but when viewed up close, it wasn’t quite so daunting anymore. Even if the path you walked next was still unfamiliar, uncarved by anyone before you to clear the way, you knew who you’d be walking it with, and you knew where it would lead you. You’d walk side by side with Chan, towards something better.

His family had flown in from Australia earlier in the week to visit, to attend his ceremony—to celebrate him. An occasion that was just as precious to them even with the bitter memories that surrounded it, even in its delay, even if Chan had spent the past two years convincing himself otherwise. He’d been a nervous wreck before leaving to meet with them when they first arrived, you could see it in every awkward shift of his feet, every subconscious rub of his neck, every unnecessary adjustment of his clothes. However much you’d tried to comfort him beforehand, however many grateful smiles he’d given you, you’d known that there was no real way to ease his apprehension. He hadn’t seen them in person for over a year, and, even prior to that, it’d been two years since he’d had an interaction with them that wasn’t engulfed in shame.

But when he’d returned, he had a smile that almost reached his eyes; hopeful. It hadn’t been perfect, everything wasn’t okay yet, but the seed had at least been planted for it to blossom one day. He’d missed them so much. It made your heart sing and ache at the same time. You only wished that he’d believed he deserved to see them before now—to stand in front of them as the son and brother that they loved, not as the collection of faults and disappointments he saw himself as. 

Though, you supposed you weren’t exactly one to talk. Your family would be coming into the city on the day of your ceremony as well, a very blatant reminder that you had yet to visit your hometown again like you’d promised them over the summer.

You weren’t quite ready to return yet. But just like Chan, you would be, one day. And you would try again. Of all the things you’d come to learn in your time with him, the value of upholding a promise was undoubtedly the most important one. You weren’t going to run. You would try as many times as it took until your home felt like home again, until you remembered all the good times, until the memories laced in every crack and crevice didn’t add to the sting in your skin, but eased it. 

You eyed Chan’s form through the darkness, nestled against you with his head buried in the softness of your chest—sound asleep, for once. 

Your arm was still draped over his waist, lingering at the small of his back where you’d been rubbing as he drifted off. In turn, his muscular arm was wrapped securely around you. Holding each other, protecting each other. An endless cycle of drawing strength from one another without growing any weaker in the process. You could give him everything, and not lose a single drop of yourself.

For the first time, you could hold someone in your arms without that underlying sense of dread spreading its roots in your mind. For the first time, your heart was still. A calm and clear surface of a lake, one that you hoped could reflect Chan’s light in its truest, most unbroken form.

You were no longer held together by a butterfly bandage, an ill-fitted adhesive, forcibly closing your wounds without giving them the chance to heal properly. At last, you were stitched up. Stitched up by the very same thread of fate that had brought you and Chan together. 

You didn’t have to ask to know that he felt the same. You could feel his emotions like they were your own, after all.

[shameboree]

hey kels i was scrolling through my dash and then i caught a glimpse of your new fallon drawing and i want you to know that i went absolutely buckwild and then i scrolled further to see the whole drawing and i'm pretty sure i squealed. kels ever since ive started following you and your art and fallon have slowly nestled yourself inside my brain its amazing how excited i get whenever u upload a new drawing. also ive noticed that i'm slowly but surely starting to sound more and more unhinged and wild like you. how the fuck do you have so much influence on me. 

ALSO i love the new fallon drawing!! you are so right blue gold and white are just her colours they fit her v well!! and i love how much texture you used throughout the whole drawing and her shoes are AWESOME!! also love the whole winter fairy-ish vibe <3

ALSO i was wondering if you could like sort of,, idk explain your drawing process on this drawing? like if you did the colouring first or the lineart and stuff bc i just love how it turned out and id love to try something similar!!

AW!!! i am so hype for my awful girl to be Enjoyed so much!! she is my favorite dressup doll i love to play barbies with her most of all heheh. also i am THRILLED that my Unhinged and Unwell nature have rubbed off on u. i know i am a Strong personality and it makes me V POLARIZING (i am either LOVED or LOATHED i havent met many ppl who are just like meh abt me. i am an Experience) and its always a DELIGHT when someone finds my feral animal traits endearing or positive and kind of picks up on them. i think because life is short that we should all be as bananas as we please at any point in time. PURE ID HERE BABY

AND TY TY!! my girl has a strong aesthetic and this piece kind of went a liiiiittle against some of that (its a lot of hard angles vs i normally give her a lot of ovals and rounded edges) but for the setting its appropriate bc im trying to give her a bit more of a """"harsh"""" or """"severe"""" vibe (like as harsh and severe as she can possibly look which isnt very). i LOVE to use texture brushes they are such an easy way to get out of drawing details myself because i am SO lazy!!

okay i “”answered”” this i GUESS technically because i typed words in response but its a whole lot of jack shit so like. here ya go. SORRY PAL. 

here are some more shoes as u can see i basically draw her in the same ones always except when i draw her in a plugsuit

OKAY THE DRAW IN QUESTION i kind of cheated on bc i literally just traced over one of my older draws i did for a very obscure au i made of who made me a princess (i am always doing such ridiculously niche shit i love to sit in my little sandbox and have no one else understand my barbie rps) BUT the process is the same as basically every draw i do like this. it is very simple so dont worry (or do, maybe)

i use 1-3 layers at a time and then immediately merge when i feel like im done and LIVE W MY MISTAKES if not!! anyway prepare to be massively underwhelmed heh

this is so funny i cant believe i literally traced my own drawing im a fuckin FRAUD im the laziest bitch i know. anyway. my sketches are way messier than this but it always starts out either scratch ass lines or color blocking w this bright ass magenta bc thats what feels right!!!!!!

HERES THE LAYERS I USED LOL i do all textures n shit as a clipping mask so actually i used 4 layers for this bc id set down one texture or pattern that was gonna overlap on a diff layer so i wouldnt have to work harder to erase and then BLINDLY MERGED to make things more difficult if actually i fucked up before that!!! work smarter not harder except when it is absolutely braindead to do otherwise is my motto

IF IM DOIN SMTH NICER like this then i usually make sure all my lines connect (this is also why i do a lot of angles and simple clear shapes when i draw) so i can set that layer as reference and USE THE FUCKING FILL TOOL BAYBEEEEE!!!!! this also makes it easier to fuck around with COLOR imho bc you can just rapidly swatch with zero efforts. i Love to take shortcuts. i Love to be lazy. i HIGHLY rec this, if i have colored smth that stays in the lines then its bc i connected the lineart and used the bucket fill underneath. if my lines dont connect sometimes ill make a temp line and erase after i filled. im dedicated. ALSO u can see here that my patterns layer is all overlapping and fucked up bc i didnt check and erase fully but i use p limited palettes in general so... IT DIDNT MATTER THIS TIME!!!!!!!!. 

anyway after all that i lock the lineart layer if i havent already and color some of the lines for some PIZAZZ. easy way to immediately fake effort i do love to do that

HERES AN ACTUALLY MESSY SKETCH:

 i do all of my fucking draws on the same canvas bc im a horrible little beast, so the only reason i didnt erase the sketch and use it for the colors layer was bc there were others on that layer already and i didnt wanna scoot them so i could cap the finished draw. i did NOT connect my lines for this one i colored like a toddler. who gives a shit we all die in the end anyway!!! 

YOU DIDNT ASK FOR THIS BUT LINELESS MY LOVE... i just color blocked for this one alas i do not have process caps, i will do that next time i draw i guess if anyone wants that!!? i typically only use a single layer for lineless- block out the shape, alpha lock, then color and carve from there. EASY PEASY!! ive shown it before but i spent all my formative draw years on v limited feature programs (mspaint, oekaki, TEGAKI MOST OF ALL) so i dont explore tools much and do what seems easiest and most intuitive to me... im sorry i dont have any sick tricks or real process i am but a feral little clown drawing in the DIRT. also here is the tegaki overlay i use whenever i am Blocked or fatigued w procreate layout. it makes me feel NOSTALGIC and INSPIRED so i do this instead of like, actually getting on tegs2

this ended up long as fuck and FOR WHAT?? its just 10 images and several paragraphs of “sorry im the laziest fucker ALIVE”

[flashflashhundredyarddash]

flashfam and birdflash because im WEAKKK

so barry and iris take wally in because rudy is a FUCKING PIECE OF SHIT

lets imagine this happens early teens or so

wally never even comes out to his dad because he just. Knows exactly what his parents would think

he kind of. subtly tried to bring it up with his mom but she made her opinion Pretty Damn Clear so wally is like great this is awesome

as a result of both the superspeed + switching cities + adhd wally has practically 0 friends growing up which really concerns barry and iris

so barry is like, babe, i have a fantastic idea, im going to set up a playdate with batmans kid

and iris is like I GUESS

(also the way wally behaves in a relationship is 100% modeled after barry and iris because they literally have the perfect relationship. see exhibit a) babe as a pet name)

((this is also probably why hes a little upset when he finds out about barry and hal because its like. you think you understand your parents and then they hit you with this massive bombshell that kind of forces you to change your whole perception of them? and even though nobodys done anything wrong its still really upsetting? and maybe if wally had known earlier that barry was bi wally wouldnt have been so fucking stressed out about coming out?))

anyways. robin and kid flash playdate. a meeting for the ages.

wally gets a crush like. right away but doesnt realize so he oscillates WILDLY between being REALLY nice to robin and also being kind of fucking mean lol wally was very much pulling robins pigtails

like one day wally shares half his ants on a log that iris made him with robin and then the next he puts gum in robins hair and robin cries while alfred cuts it out

robin is like UGH kid flash is SO MEAN and bruce is like you dont have to hang out with him and robin is like NO IM GONNA

wally gets out of the mean phase quickly though lol

barry and iris realize right away its a crush and are like aw cute but then it... doesnt go away... ever...

so then they go REALLY hard on the PFLAG thing and keep like brochures and pride flags EVERYWHERE which actually does make wally a lot more comfortable

when wally comes out they all cry lol

wally calls barry and iris uncle and aunt but when hes much older he switches between aunt/uncle and mom and dad

anyways when dick leaves bruce/is fired/complicated feeling stuff dick spends most of his time at titans tower BUT also spends a significant amount of time at barry and iris' place

because the westallen household is adhd central, dick actually learns a lot of tips for dealing with his own adhd from them

dick is trying to Figure out his place in the world so he actually gets really into the journalism scene for a while because of both iris and clark

iris: hi this is my nephew, dick, hes my intern :)

clark: no, this is MY nephew, hes MY intern :)

lois bugs bunny meme: OUR nephew-intern

wally Does Not get it at all bcus he is 100% a STEM kid but hes still like i support you babe :^)

barry and iris LOVE dick. dick doesnt really open up about his situation but they kind of get the gist so barry is like. really annoyed with batman whenever they have to work together

iris writes a very scathing series of articles about the batman of gotham and dick is very vindictively pleased

dick actually finds out about hal and barry first bcus he comes downstairs and theyre making out on the couch and and dick is like UHHHH and halbarry are like UHHHHHHHH and dick is like I AM CALLING IRIS RIGHT FUCKING NOW and halbarry are like NO ITS COOL

iris is like. Mom supreme. dick for the past decade has had like no mother figures (selina doesnt really count because her and bruce are messyyyyy) so he both really wants iris's affection and also gets really overwhelmed by it

also barry. like, isnt emotionally constipated? wally tells dick that the west allens have weekly dinners where they talk about whats up with them and their feelings and dick is like aw thats cute and then wally is like dick u should join us and dick is like WAIT NO THATS NOT WHAT I MEANT

so dick is now required to be at family dinners once a month and talk about his feelings which is both exhausting and liberating

barry cries at the wedding and iris is like I Am Not Crying How Dare You Imply That I Am.

bruce and iris. the most begrudging in-laws. everytime bruce sees iris hes immediately reminded of the phrase "The Batman is a violent, depressed loner who gets his thrills by beating up homeless people and drug addicts." and its like jesus fucking christ iris way to gut the man

iris 100% uses the fact that shes dick graysons mother-in-law aunt-in-law to get sources. its a dog-eat-dog world out there, kid.

dick adores the twins bcus he loves babies

wally gets SO annoyed by bart its very funny to dick. wally and dick both grew up as only children but dick has had more time to adjust to having siblings so hes much more fond of bart than wally initially is

[jangofctts]

omg I just read so much of your writing and I’m 🥺🥰🥲🥵 the absolute royalty shit that we see here today. i’ve recently discovered I am very into ~thigh riding~ so do u have any thots on how our boys (especially our clone babes) feel about it? much obliged

IVE BEEN THINKING ABOUT THIS ALL DAY KEJHKJRH SO HERE YOU GO OMG

boba: yEs--boba absolutely adORES when you crawl into his lap and straddle his thigh. he’ll either pat his lap and invite you up or it’s one of those times when he’s intentionally ignoring you and you have force your way onto his lap so he has to pay attention. imo the first time you ride his thigh you weren't intending to, you wanted to fuck him but with boba, if you want something from him he’s gonna do it his way or twist it into something to tease you. so he’ll say something like “if you’re so desperate, ride my thigh” or maybe “ride my thigh and then we’ll see if you deserve my cock.” he’ll sit back and enjoy the show with a smug grin, one hand gripping your hip. he’s not controlling your pace, it’s mostly just there as an anchor bc you’re gonna be doing all the work. you’re lucky if you get to ride his bare thigh, but most of the time he’s got pants on so they always end up soaked after you cum and boba always teases you for it, “ruined another pair of pants, little one” but really he isn't even one to talk, he’ll be rock hard and leaking through his pants too. he’ll also nine times out of ten put his fingers or thumb into your mouth to suck on while he flexes and pushes the hard muscle of his thigh up to your cunt. he likes that satisfaction of knowing that even his thigh can make you shudder and whine his name--a bit of a power trip esp if he’s sitting on the throne. he’ll fuck you nice and hard afterwards if you’re a good little princess for him          

din: din wants you to ride the beskar thigh plating. he doesn't realize it’s a thing he finds arousing until you sit over his thigh and he sees the heat from your thighs fog up the metal while your arousal smears over the shiny beskar. literally it’s like something just CRACKS in him and he goes feral for it. a dark thrill that comes from seeing your cunt drip over his precious armor, something so sacrilegious that shouldn't be arousing but it’s the hottest thing he’s ever seen. sure, it’s a bit cold at first but the more you get into it the quicker it heats up--it’s slippery too, not a lot of friction unless you drag your clit over the seams of the armor, but with din’s hands holding onto your hips and dragging you over his thigh, it’s not long before you cum. din is gonna be encouraging you the whole time, just a constant flow of praise and little moans of his own. he might bury a hand in your hair or slip off his glove and touch your clit when your hips roll up into his hand. he’d loose his mind if you lended a hand and palmed him through his pants. he doesn't even care if he ruins his trousers, he’s just so...fixated on the hypnotic motions of your hips rolling over his thigh, your wetness dripping off the plating and onto the floor. he might focus on your mouth, parted with gasping moans or how they roll the syllable of his name. he likes to watch you come undone like this, shuddering and whiney as you cum and eventually roll off his thigh. he probably busts a nut right then and there if you start to roll your tongue over the beskar, happily cleaning up the mess you made. but....sometimes...lick it off himself just to get a taste of you       

paz: big boy blue ALSO likes when you ride his beskar, but he likes it better when the armor is off and he gets to feel your wetness for himself. he has big ol’ beefy thighs and likes when you straddle one and start to ride him like that. imo he likes it when youre pressed up right near his cock so when you roll forward your own thigh brushes against his cock. it’s also just easier for him to grab your hips, set a pace and watch you squirm and whine. ngl he’s more interested in fucking you, so he’ll get cheeky and start jerking his thigh or holding you in place while he circles his thumb over your clit. p much will sabotage your wild ride and convince you to slide onto his cock instead. though,....if you were to tie him up, tease him bye riding his thigh, he might like that :)  

rex: oH rexY BOY--listen, rex has heard ALL about thigh riding, or rather what the clones like to call it, “paint job”. he doesn't understand the big deal, thinks that it’d be a complete hassle to clean and what not. in my oPiNiOn he’ll be sitting with you in an empty break room or on a couch, you both have feelings for each other but nothing's been said yet. somehow the topic of paint jobs come up and he tells you what he thinks and how it “couldn't possibly feel good, blah blah blah”. you just roll your eyes and you ask if he’s even tried it. he definitely blushes and mumbles out a no and with a leap of faith you ask him if he wants you to ride his thigh. baby boy rex gets very shy and embarrassed about it but he’s not gonna say no. so you’ll flash him a little grin and peel off your pants and your over shirt, make rex relax against the back of the couch/chair and sit over his plastoid covered thigh. even though when you start to grind on his thigh you still have your underwear on, rex with pick a corner of the room to just stare at. it’s not because he doesn't like you, he’s just incredibly shy and afraid he’ll cum in his pants if he looks at you. you gotta cup his jaw and force him to look at you. when that happens his eye will immediately drop to between your legs and just moan at the sight. he gets it now. seeing your arousal that’s already leaking through the thin fabric and staining the blue and white plastoid--he has to grip the fucking sidearm to anchor himself. his armor is one of the only things that he owns and is proud of, so seeing you riding his thigh, moaning and whimpering his name he goes wild for that shit. unfortunately he does end up cumming in his pants but eh fuck it. it was worth it   

cody: he likes when you ride his thigh in semi public places like the 79′s, debrief room, gunships, you name it. imma explain the 79′s scenario bc im a whore but anyway, cody likes to bring you on dates there, one because the drinks are free for him, two it’s dark and so unless someone is really looking at the two of you, it’s pretty secluded. he always chooses a back corner table and after a couple drinks you start to get handsy--nuzzling his neck and wiggling your fingers between the gaps separating his thigh and codpiece. it alWAYS starts like that. cody will chuckle, push his nose into your neck and nibble a line up to your ear, then bite down onto the cartilage. in that dark, rumbly voice he might sigh “such a depraved little creature. we’re in public”. but you can feel his smile and how is pulse quickens under your fingertips. cody will sigh and shake his head as he pulls you onto his lap, bUT--he’s gonna have you with your back to his chest plate, your dress/skirt/pants rolled up or down just barely in the view of anyone who glances over or looks a little closer. it’d be no secret what you both were up to but cody likes that. dude doesn't have any shame and so he’ll wrap an arm over your hip, push you panties to the side and slide his fingers through your folds. once they're coated in your arousal he might pop them into his mouth or yours, clean them off then flex his thigh onto your pussy. when he asks you to grind on his thigh you readily agree. while you ride his thigh he’ll nibble at your throat and suck bruises onto your skin, either watching your wet pussy slide over the plastoid armor or on the look out in case one of his brothers comes near. one time, just as you started to cum, a couple fresh shiny’s got an entire eyeful of you arching and burying your nose into cody’s neck as he rolled his fingers over your clit. safe to say they were a bit spooked--but of course, cody thought it was the funniest thing and couldn't stop laughing even if you were close to tears with embarrassment. now....he doesn't invite anyone to watch, but he wouldn't say no to a few prying eyes          

wolffe: I feel like with wolffe, it’s gonna be right after a mission--one of you might've almost died or gotten real hurt so he’s not thinking about fucking you properly--he just want his mouth on yours, hands buried in your hair as he pins you against the wall. I dont think he initially meant for you to ride his thigh, but when he wedges it between your legs and you moan into his mouth the second he increases the pressure, he freezes. he’ll do it again and when it receives the same reaction from you he smirks and tugs on your hair and might say smthn like “you like that? if you wanted to ride my thigh you could've asked sooner”. he’s either focused on your face or on your pussy, just soaking up all your little reactions or twitches when you roll your cunt over the plastoid. he'll have both hands on your hips, helping you grin up on him, while you either cup his face or grip his arm. either way youre in for a wild fucking ride--wolffe tbh wants to see his armor dripping by the time he’s done with you. sO do nOT be surprised if he just, doesn't let you stop, pushes you to keep going until he’s satisfied. imo I think he’ll make you lick it up after, or just in general would really Like It if you run your tongue over any part of his armor. he likes to be Appreciated :)

wrecker (im sorry I just nEEDed to include him kejkejh): honestly since baby boy wrecker is uh, so big, thigh riding is some of the first things you try with him. you’ll both be butt ass naked bc it’s just easier to explore like this, and while wrecker is eager he knows he has to think about his strength in order not to overwhelm or hurt you unintentionally. he’s a bit of a goof ball so when you straddle his thigh and bring his thicC fingers to your cunt he’ll smile and say some shit like “wow, you’re wet” or like “is it always this wet/soft?” he doesn't mean for it to be teasing, it's more like he’s just stating a fact bc he’s curious about you. you just nod and say it’s all for you, baby/only for you. the second you put your cunt over his thigh he’ll curse and clamp his hands around your hips or ribcage, and just to make the experience all that better for him, you’ll jerk him off while you ride him. wrecker is very vocal/loud and so you’ll know exactly what you’re doing that he likes--he’ll probably tell you how pretty you look, or how good you smell etc., that bOY IS SO FULL OF LOVE and just wants to tell you! it doesn't take long for him to spill into your hand, he shakes and no doubt wakes up half the barrack/ship but who the fuck cares. you just smile and continue to ride his thigh, chasing your own thigh. once he recovers a bit, you can grab his fingers and show him how you like to be touched. he’s a surprisingly quick learner with this and so it doesn't take long for you to cum. afterwards he’ll run his fingers over his thigh, collect the mess you left and taste you and maybe say “you should ride my face. can we do that?”     

[lifeandloveliterarythings]

Few hours of being 29 !

Am anxious and thrilled ,

Scared too!

My life of the past decade has been a Rollercoaster ride a scary one indeed .

Lessons learned,blessings earned .

But But But

It's 9 now .

Never estimated that ending of 29 would feel like this .

When you think in this lifetime u won't be this age ever ,

So whatever birthday it is ,

It is the youngest you are!

It's only happy forever ahead !

Is all I will say ,

Coz the hell has been dealt with already ,

I dont know why and how I say this but I do !

I ll go out now and have something to eat and sip ,

And that's all for the 29 me now !

Guess logically speaking u can't stop urself from turning the next number unless one dies 🥺

Silly of me to say that now but yah I do feel sad

Coz humans just don't understand mortality isn't it

Why u ask

Coz they always scraping off the wounds eh isn't it

The means and the ulterior motives I tell u ! 🥺🥺

Besides all that lets be kind and loving to everyone coz it's a fleeting life

Nobody ain't here for a forever

It's a joke isn't it that forever has a time limit and it's until your last breath !

And if a forever exists after the physical form that's a different zone mate isn't it

Last but not the least I would like to thankgod for all that I have been and for all what I am ! And for all the blessings until now and the ones coming my way !

It's a happy 30 to me in some hours !

30!!!!!!!! ✨️✨️🌻🌻❤️❤️

9 15

17 diciembre 2022,

Let's do this !

[fellulahh]

MC and Diavolo accidentally switch bodies for the day

Taking a sip of the drink that Solomon had just prepared for her, MC narrowed her eyes at the white haired sorcerer. A small, cheeky grin appeared on his lips as he watched her eagerly.

Finishing the drink, MC set the glass down on the counter as she began to grow suspicious of Solomon. Although he was usually sly, there was something that seemed so cunning about the expression he had.

“What is it?” She asked quietly as he began to chuckle. “Solomon what did you do?!”

“You know that conversation you and I were having the other day?” He asked casually as he sat back in his chair.

Without any further discussion, MC knew exactly what he was referring to. Widening her eyes, she turned her head to gawp at the empty glass in front of her. “You didn’t!” She gasped in horror.

“MC don’t worry about it! It’s fine - I did nothing different than what we discussed.” He explained with a smile, “You said you wanted to get your revenge on the brothers after they all took that lust potion around you so guess what? I used the last of this body switching one in your drink.”

Although Solomon found it terribly amusing that MC had just drunk a syrup that would switch her body with somebody else, she wasn’t so thrilled. It wasn’t the fact that he’d slipped it into her beverage - it was actually her idea in the first place - it was the fact that she was now going to face the effects of the syrup.

“How does it decide whose body I switch with?” She asked quietly, glancing up at Solomon with a worried expression.

“The last person you touched.” He grinned, “I just can’t wait to see which one you turn into!”

“Solomon!” MC suddenly panicked as she shot out of her seat.

“What is it?” He asked confused, “you’ll only change bodies for a day?”

“That’s not the issue here!” MC waved her hands frantically, “the last person I touched was Diavolo!”

“Oh shit...” Solomon mumbled. “You mean?”

“I’m going to turn into Diavolo!” MC cried before letting out a sharp breath, “and Diavolo is going to turn into me!”

“Fuck...” Solomon breathed, trying to weigh up the options on what they should do.

“We have to go to the palace.” MC shook her head, causing Solomon to look at her as though she was being ridiculous. “We need to tell him!”

Sighing, she marched out of the room before she could even give him a choice. Time was against them as they raced through the house. The affects of the syrup could take place at any second. MC silently prayed that Diavolo didn’t have some important meeting with all of the high nobles.

She seethed to herself as they travelled across the Devildom. ‘This is a disaster!’ MC kept repeating to herself until eventually they made it to the palace.

Barbatos let both of them into the castle, surprised to see the state they were in.

“Barb where’s Diavolo?!” MC asked quickly, “I’ve got to see him right now.”

“He’s in his study?” Barbatos arched an eyebrow, “would you like me to call for him?”

“There’s no time!” MC shook her head, “please just take me to him.”

Following her orders - and given how urgent they seemed - Barbatos began walking through the palace at a fast pace. Solomon chose to hang back as MC followed the Prince’s servant.

The palace had never seemed so big as they continued turning left and right down various hallways until eventually MC was lead to a colossal door.

Knocking gently, Barbatos awaited Diavolo’s call before letting MC in. As she practically fell into the room, the Prince stood up from his seat in surprise.

“MC?” He asked concerned, “whatever is the matter?”

“My Lord I am so sorry.” She panted as she leant over, “Solomon gave me a syrup that would make me switch bodies...”

Talking had never seemed to hard as she tried to regain her breath.

“He didn’t realise that you and I were together earlier.” She continued, “I drank it to get my own back on the brothers but Solomon didn’t know that I hadn’t seen them today.”

Diavolo’s eyes never left MC’s face as she frantically tried to explain what was happening.

“He says I will switch bodies with the last person I touched.” MC finished.

Recollecting their catch up they’d had earlier, Diavolo remembered the hug they shared as MC left. “Me?” He asked with wide eyes.

“I’m so sorry!” She repeated with an anxious expression.

“What you mean to tell me is you drank a syrup that would force you to switch bodies with the last person that you touched? And that person is me?” He asked, trying to understand the situation.

“Yes...” MC answered as her face sunk.

Diavolo showed no emotion for a minute as he paced in front of his desk. Fear grew in MC’s body as she anticipated a scolding from the Prince.

But then, as he perched his firm butt on the edge of his desk, he looked up at MC. “So once this syrup takes effect, I will be you for the day and you me?” He requested clarification.

“Yes, My Lord.” She nodded.

“Well this sounds positively exciting!” He suddenly grinned, catching MC by complete surprise.

“I’m sorry...” she knitted her eyebrows, “you’re not angry?”

“Why would I be angry? I have nothing important scheduled for the rest of the week and therefore do not need to worry about you being me.” He explained, “and with me switching bodies with you I can finally grasp an understanding on what it is like to be a human!”

Diavolo seemed to find this incredibly exciting.

“I must say MC, my life was far more boring before you came along.” He chuckled. “I think you and I could have some fun with this. How long has it been since you drank the syrup?”

“About 25 minutes, My Lord.” MC breathed.

“Excellent.” He smirked, “Five more minutes should do it.” As he glanced at her, he noticed the worry in her eyes. “You seem frightened?” He questioned.

“I’m sorry My Lord, I just didn’t expect you to react so...well?” She spoke unsure. “I came here thinking you’d be furious.”

“While this isn’t quite how I imagined spending my afternoon, that’s not to say I am disappointed because of it.” He chuckled, “now come on, MC. Wipe that worry off your face!”

In all truth, Diavolo was just pleased he was involved in such chaos without being the one who orchestrated it.

“Now...lets not spend the afternoon fretting.” He smirked, “it’s time we had some fun!”

-

What did they get up to?

Now being in Diavolo’s body, MC decides to give Barbatos some super weird orders. “Can you get out and buy me some peaches without the pit?” “My Lord, all peaches have pits?” “Then find some that dont!”

“Barbatos will you carry me to the kitchen please?” “I’m sorry my Lord but I don’t think I will be able to support your weight...” “how rude! Would you speak to your King like that?”

After about ten minutes though, Barbatos guesses exactly what’s happened

“How did you know it was me?!” MC questions, “because Lord Diavolo always uses his fluffy pen to write out shopping lists! You used the dip pen - a rookie mistake.” “Ah.”

MC walks into Diavolo’s chamber and while alone, takes a sneak peak down his shirt, ‘it’s even better than I imagined!’

Meanwhile Diavolo - in MC’s body - remains sat at his desk trying to calm his mind. ‘Well maybe just one feel...’ he thinks to himself before quickly grabbing his newly accustomed breasts

“Oh my!” He grins to himself

FaceTimes Lucifer, “Hey cutie, how are you doing?” “MC?? Why are you at Lord Diavolo’s?” “We’re talking about you.”

MC pulls a prank on Mammon by messaging him, “hey Mammon, Lord Diavolo’s pretty mad at you...” “ha! If he was it’d be Lucifer messaging me. Prove it.” *MC sends a selfie in Diavolo’s body looking pissed off* “o—oh shit what did I do?!”

Diavolo goes to the House of Lamentation and tells all of the brothers that he (MC) is in love with Diavolo so they should all stop pining over her

He also does whatever he can to make Lucifer blush while in the human’s body. He knows she’s the only one capable of making his heart go soft. “Did you know your hair looks sexy pushed back?” “MC, please.”

Back at the castle, MC’s ordering for a new portrait to be painted of her (Diavolo) to hang above the throne. And of course, the pose she chooses is her dabbing

She also sends a selfie to Solomon, “Hello Harry Potter, it’s Lord Diavolo here to tell you u nasty”

Afterwards, she calls Simeon to tell him “It’s Diavolo here - I’m really sorry to tell you this but MC’s my favourite exchange student.”

When it comes to going to the toilet, MC tries incredibly hard not to look down but as soon as she catches a glance of Diavolo Jr she screams “oh my GOD”

She posts an inspiring article on the RAD newspaper with “words we can live by” and its ‘sex drugs and sausage rolls’

While not pranking the brothers, Diavolo’s ‘testing’ what it’s like to be in a human body. *punches wall* ‘interesting...that was painful*

He momentarily forgets he’s MC and has some of Mammon’s spicy noodles before immediately regretting it ‘oh HELL that’s hot!’

Accidentally mentions something to Lucifer that only Diavolo would know and the eldest brother’s like “...how did you know that, MC?”

When Luke gets excited to see MC (or in this case Diavolo), the Prince tells the angel that he (MC) is going to marry Diavolo and Luke runs off screaming “YOU CAN’T MARRY A DEMON!”

If MC gets approached by anyone and they ask any questions, she answers them very ‘seriously’ “My Lord, I hear there are talks of the exchange program being extended. Do you have anything to say on this?” “Yes. Shakira Shakira. No further questions please.”