#despite my recent activity here on tumblr

[doodlevore]

Old habits really do die hard.

#soft vore #tankmaw #despite my recent activity here on tumblr #no i'm not coming back before you ask #i just saw these motherfuckers and had the sudden familiar urge to draw them #an urge i thought had died out long ago whispered to me again and i said fuck #the only reason i'm posting these is because its not like i have better uses for them #now if you'll excuse me i have to go to bed because its almost 4am and i have work tomorrow #edit: i decided i didn't like the second drawing so i deleted it

[utahlive]

Announcement

Hello UtahLIVE viewers, I have come before you today to talk a bit about recent events and how they will impact the future of this blog. Apologies this note is a bit long, but I would really appreciate it if you took some time to read this.

As I'm sure many of you know, within the past month Wilbur Soot/William Gold has been outed as an abuser. I want to make it clear right now that I no longer support him, nor do I accept his apology (mainly because it's not mine to accept in the first place). I stand with and believe Shelby and Alice 100%. This goes for any other victims that have or will come forward that I am unaware of, since I've been trying my best to stay offline. This aint about me!! But it's still hard when someone you look up to and who inspired you to create art turns out to be a shitbag. If you were somehow unaware of this, please go watch Shelby/Shubble's stream (VOD + transcript) and read Alice's post (and mind the CW/TWs) for more information.

This blog has brought me a lot of grief because of all of this. I do not want to support or perpetuate this man's image, but at the same time, I don't want to discontinue a story that I've put so much time and effort into. After a lot of deliberation, I've decided that I am going to continue this story until the end. I will also be adding a disclaimer in the pinned post, and I will no longer be tagging any of my posts from here on out with #wilbur soot or any adjacent tags. I don't think it's fair to myself or to anyone else who has enjoyed this blog to waste all the hard work that I have put in, because ultimately this is my project and my story, not his. If you disagree with this, I totally get it, but I ask you to just unfollow and/or block rather than sending me any hate because I promise you that whatever you say about me "supporting" Wilbur Soot by continuing this blog is something I've already considered myself. He is not (active) on Tumblr, he did not receive any of the money I got from stickers, I doubt anyone is looking at this blog and thinking "wow this Wilbur guy seems cool, let me go listen to his music and watch his vods".

Despite this decision, I'll probably still be taking a bit of time to myself to think about things and focus on school. Updates will likely resume in late March or early April.

I hope you can all respect my stance on this, and I want to reiterate how much I appreciate you all for supporting my work. Love you guys <3

#utahlive #4th wall break #dsmp #dsmp ask blog #dream smp #dream smp askblog #ask blog

[sparrowlucero]

Even if a creator is a bad person it's still okay to like their work. People need to mind their own business.

Honestly it's not really that sort of situation. I'll actively defend Steven Moffat here.

There was a huge hate movement for him back in the early 2010s - which, in retrospect, formed largely because he was running 2 of the superwholock shows at once, one of which went through extremely long hiatuses* and the other of which was functionally an adaptation of an already well regarded show**, making him subject to a sort of double ire in the eyes of a lot of fandom people. Notably, his co-showrunner, Mark Gatiss, is rarely mentioned and much of his work is still attributed to Moffat (and yes, this includes that Hbomberguy video. Several of "Steven Moffat's bad writing choices" were not actually written by him, they were Gatiss.)

People caricatured the dude into a sort of malicious, arrogant figure who hated women and was deliberately mismanaging these shows to spite fans, to the point where people who never watched them believe this via cultural osmosis. It became very common to take quotes from him out of context to make them look bad***, to cite him as an example of a showrunner who hated his fans, someone who sabotaged his own work just to get at said fans, someone who was too arrogant to take criticism, despite all of this being basically a collective "headcanon" formed on tumblr. Some if it got especially terrible, like lying about sexual assault (I don't mean people accused him of sexual assault and I think they're making it up, I mean people would say things like "many of his actresses have accused him of sexual assault on set" when no such accusations exist in the first place. This gets passed around en masse and is, in my opinion, absolutely rancid.)

On top of that a ton of the criticism directed at the shows themselves is, personally, just terrible media criticism. So much of it came from assuming a very hostile intent from the writer and just refusing to engage with the text at all past that.

Like some really common threads you see with critique of this writer's work, especially in regards to Doctor Who since that's the one I'm most familiar with:

A general belief that his lead characters were meant to be ever perfect self inserts, and so therefore when they act shitty or arrogant or flawed in any way, that's both reflective of the author and meant to be viewed as positive or aspirational.

An overarching thesis that his characters are "too important" in the narrative due to the writer's arrogance and self obsession

A lot of focus on the writer personally "attacking" the fans or making choices primarily out of spite.

A tendency to treat the show being different to what it's adapting as inherently bad and hostile towards the original

Just generally very little consideration of the themes, intent, etc.

This one's a little more nebulous and doesn't apply to all critique but a lot of it, especially recently, is clearly by people who haven't seen the show in like 10 years and their opinion is largely formed secondhand through like, "discourse nostalgia". Which. you know. bad.

I think these are just weird and nonsensical ways to engage with a work of fiction. I also think it's really sad to see the show boiled down to this because that era of who is, in my opinion, very thematically rich and unique among similar shows, and I hate that it's often dismissed in such a paltry way.

This isn't to say people aren't allowed to critique Steven Moffat or anything, but the context in which he basically became The Devil™ to a large portion of fandom and is still remembered in a poor light is very tied to this perfect storm of fan culture and I just don't agree with a ton of it.

* I'm sure most people have seen the way long running shows and hiatuses will cause people to fall out with a show, with some former fans turning around and joining a sort of "anti fandom" for it while it's still airing. That happened with both these shows. ** Doctor Who will change it's entire writing staff, crew, and cast every few years, and with that comes a change in style, tone, theme - the old show basically ends and is replaced by a new show under the same title. As Steven Moffat's era was the first of these handovers for the majority of audiences, you can imagine this wasn't a well loved move for many fans. *** I know for a fact most people have not sought out the sources for a lot of these quotes to check that they read the same in context because 1) most of them were deleted years ago and are very difficult to find now and 2) many of them do actually make sense in the context of their respective interviews

#and yeah i think the hbomberguy video is kind of bad #I can pull up examples but a lot of what he's saying is very rooted in this sort of critique #maybe most egregiously he sometimes just explains something very poorly or outright incorrectly to make it seem worse or more nonsensical #ex. saying a scene in doctor who 'steals a huge chunk of the plot' when it's less than 30 seconds long #saying two characters randomly start hanging out again while not mentioning the episode entirely dedicated to this #or the way her decision to keep hanging out with him is the emotional turning point of the entire season #etc etc etc.

[moonlinos]

Invisible string (pt. I)

♡ Pairing: Lee Minho × fem!reader / Hwang Hyunjin × fem!reader

♡ Synopsis: With your terrible history of boyfriends during high school, you swore off love and vowed to get through university without a relationship. Things are great: you’re in your junior year, in an uncomplicated arrangement with a friend with benefits, and living in a nice sharehouse with two amazing roommates. But things begin to change once you meet Lee Minho, a student in your new class who vows to change your perspective on love.

♡ Genre: A ‘lite version’ of a soulmate AU, fluff, eventual smut, light angst, pining, jealousy, strangers to friends to lovers, friends with benefits

♡ CW: Swearing, sexual themes and discussions, mentions of anxiety/panic attacks, alcohol consumption, mentions of smoking

♡ Word count: 16.4k

♡ A/N: This is a three-part story because I can’t shut up. The second part will be posted sometime next week, and I’ll link it here. I’ve been writing all my life and have written for maaaany fandoms, but being on Tumblr as an active reader of SKZ fics made me want to write for them. So, yeah, guess this is what I’m doing now.

part II →

You are woken up by Hyunjin shifting beside you on the bed. He groans, arm reaching to mess with your already closed curtains. You chuckle.

“You know, the curtains won’t close any more than that.”

“I keep telling you your bed is in a terrible position,” He grumbles as you turn to face him with a smile. “Who thought placing a bed right under a window would be a good idea? Mornings are fucking hell here.”

You shrug. “Well, it’s not my house so I didn’t exactly have a say in that matter.”

“I told you a million times I could help you move it.”

“And I told you a million times Mrs. Choi doesn’t like for us to mess with her furniture,” You explain, turning under the sheets so you could face him before bringing your fingers up to pinch his cheek. Hyunjin scrunches his nose. “Speaking of which, you need to leave. You know her rule: no—”

“No boyfriends spending more than two days at the house,” He interrupted you with an eye roll. “I’m not your boyfriend, though, so that rule shouldn’t apply.” He shrugs.

Hyunjin has been one of your best friends since you first met over two years ago. It was Hyunjin’s first college party and one of the many times your housemates had dragged you along on a night out. His friends had dared him to try and chat you up, arguing it would be hilarious to see him get turned down by an older girl. What they hadn’t expected, however, was for Hyunjin’s clumsy attempt at flirting to be so endearing to you; his pink cheeks and bowl-cut hair made him look like a helpless kid despite his height towering over you. Before you knew it, you had spent the entirety of the party talking to him about everything and anything, only stopping once your housemate Eunha emerged from inside the house to drag you home with her as she desperately tried to dodge a rather insistent guy’s advances. After that day, you and Hyunjin became almost inseparable.

You can’t quite pinpoint when you began hooking up. It was meaningless in the best sense of the word. It was simply something that had happened. All you can remember is that Jisung had recently bleached Hyunjin’s hair after yet another dare from his friend. It had started with cuddles, which turned to kisses, which turned to touches, until you eventually slept together for the first time sometime last year after an excruciatingly stressful exam period. It had never once gotten weird between the two of you; the line was always clear: you were just friends who hooked up due to convenience. Everybody had needs and stress and shit complicating their lives, and fucking your best friend was far more practical and safe than going out to look for a random hook-up whenever you needed it.

You find yourself smiling at Hyunjin once again. His now long black hair fell in his eyes as he stretched his arms over his head.

“Yes, you’re not my boyfriend, but how am I supposed to explain what we are to a little old lady?”

“Doesn’t she always say she’s super modern?” Hyunjin raises his eyebrows at you with a chuckle. “Maybe she’d like a situationship of her own and you’re depriving her of that by keeping this knowledge to yourself.”

You roll your eyes at his words, attempting to push him off your bed. “Why did you sleep here, anyway?”

Hyunjin sits up on the bed, a pout on his full lips. “I had a shitty date. I was sad and lonely. Glad to know you were paying attention to my story.”

“Hyune,” You sigh, ‘When you tell me said story while fucking me, can I really be blamed for not remembering anything?”

Hyunjin flicks your forehead lightly. “Yes, you can. At this point, it’s like our thing to vent about bad dates during sex,” He argues before getting up from your bed, finding his shirt, which had somehow been thrown over your study desk.

“You mean it’s your thing,” Correcting him, you get up as well, turning to fix up your sheets. “I don’t even go on dates and you know that. The only thing I vent to you about is how awful academic life is.”

Once you turned to face him again, Hyunjin was busy messily tying his hair. His brows promptly furrowed as he took in your words. “Remind me why you literally never leave the house again?”

“Just don’t want to get distracted. Getting my degree is more important than getting a boyfriend.” You lie with a shrug.

Your history with relationships was something you kept secret from everyone you met after high school. You feel embarrassed, as if it was all somehow your fault. After five failed relationships where you had been the one to be broken up with or cheated on, you began to accept that maybe the problem really was you. Maybe something about you makes men want to yell at and cheat on you. Perhaps you are just bound to be a distraction until they find someone better.

Which is why you don’t date.

Would anyone go through the hassle of reading a long, tedious book if they already knew about the bad ending?

Hyunjin rolls his eyes at your answer, crossing his arms over his chest. “Your degree isn’t going to keep you company when you’re eighty and alone.”

“Well, my degree isn’t going to wake up one day and suddenly decide to leave me either,” you refute, earning an annoyed groan from your friend as you walk past him to leave your room.

“You literally never have fun, though. All you do is go to class, work, and study. You should at least pick up a new hobby,” Hyunjin insists as he follows you, walking into the kitchen-living room area. “Go out more, stop avoiding college parties like the plague before it’s too late to experience the joys of watching your friend throw up on some random person’s couch.”

You make a face at the offers, grabbing your mug from the cupboard. “Why would I want to see that? Besides, I have hobbies.”

“I meant a social hobby. Sitting in your room watching fucking iceberg videos isn’t sociable,” He explains, and you let out an aggrieved gasp. Your iceberg videos were educational and entertaining, thank you very much. Behind you, your housemate’s bedroom door opens, and you turn to watch as she stumbles out of her room, looking half-awake. “Soojung, don’t you think she should get a new hobby?” Hyunjin addresses the blonde girl, who stares daggers at him.

“If I say yes, will you two stop speaking so loud?”

Hyunjin slams one hand on the kitchen counter, his other pointing a finger at you. “See, she said yes. You’re outnumbered, now you have to stop spending all your free time holed up inside your room.”

Soojung groans, stepping into the kitchen and shoving Hyunjin to the side. “He’s annoying, but he is kind of right,” she mumbles.

Truthfully, you did feel bad about having essentially wasted three years at university by actively avoiding parties and invitations any chance you got. The only parties you did attend, however, only served as an irritating reminder as to why you shouldn’t put yourself in those situations. Parties and bars only meant desperate college boys. Desperate for sex, for attention, for a potential relationship. For someone’s heart to break. You had met Hyunjin at a party, for fuck’s sake. Who knows just how south things between you two could’ve gone if he had become interested in you romantically?

But, as much as you hate to admit it, Hyunjin is right. Your life is essentially an endless loop of studying and working. You only socialize when your roommates are home, when your few friends come over, and when you and Hyunjin hook up. But you aren’t ready to step out of your comfortable bubble of avoidance, so you settle for the best thing you can think of.

As Hyunjin rummages through your fridge like he lived there and Soojung stirs her coffee blankly, you loudly set your mug down on the counter. “An elective course,” you announce.

The both of them turn to face you with the same puzzled expression.

“The fuck?” Hyunjin questions, and you roll your eyes.

“I’ll take an elective,” you explain matter-of-factly, “The university offers a lot of great courses in things I’m actually interested in. It’ll be a way for me to get out of the house without having to watch a friend of mine puke on a couch or whatever atrocity it is that you said.”

Hyunjin slams the fridge door closed, earning a scolding scream from Soojung, and walks over to where you’re standing. He pulls you into a tight embrace, and you can hear the smile in his voice as he says, “You’re such a fucking nerd, what the fuck, but I’m so glad your hermit life is coming to an end.”

The elective course you choose is Japanese. It’s a language you’ve always been interested in learning, and while you know the class is merely introductory, you figure it will be fun to learn some phrases and expressions. You might even find yourself wanting to learn more in the future, and you’ll undoubtedly be glad you took this class during university.

Even if that means having to endure Hyunjin calling you a weeb.

You are able to begin attending classes a week after signing up; the lessons lining up with your work schedule to a T. The professor explained that, since you had joined the course late, you would likely need some guidance with phrases and words the class had already been taught. You didn’t mind, actually feeling excited in the morning despite your boring routine classes since you knew you would be doing something new you enjoyed in the afternoon instead of simply killing time around your house until it was time for you to work.

You walk into your first class ten minutes late, mentally cursing Eunha for being so good at telling stories about her weirdly entertaining life that it made it physically difficult for you to drag yourself away from her. You mouth a brief apology to your professor before scanning the room and scurrying over to the only available seat. 

You sit down in haste so as to not disrupt the class any further, swinging your bag over your chair and accidentally knocking over your seatmate’s water bottle all over his side of the desk. Luckily, the bottle lands on the soft surface of his notebook, barely making any noise. Unluckily, said bottle had been filled with coffee, staining his notes a faded brown color. You silently gasp, instinctively reaching out your hands to fruitlessly try and dry the pages that are now sticking to each other.

“I am so sorry, what the fuck,” you mutter under your breath as you continue to inspect his notebook frantically. “I’ll buy you a new notebook and another cup of coffee as soon as class ends, I promise,” You whisper to him, your eyes boring holes into the stained pages as you watch the bitter liquid slowly dissolve some of the black ink. At this point, you’re rambling out of nervousness, but you can’t seem to stop, adding, “Hell, I’m so angry at myself for what I did I’d bind you a new notebook and brew you some fresh coffee myself.”

You mentally berate yourself for your word vomit. It was just your luck that you would make someone hate your guts on the first day you attended a class.

After what feels like minutes of silence from him, you are prepared for the imminent burst of rage bound to come your way, the guy’s wrath more than likely stirring inside him as he sits beside you and watches as you foolishly shake the piece of paper, hoping it will miraculously return to its untainted state.

However, what you aren’t prepared for is the small burst of laughter that leaves your seatmate’s lips; it’s quiet, but you’re close enough to him to be able to hear it.

You furrow your brows, finally mustering the courage to look up at him for the first time.

“Did you…” You trail off. You feel a strange sensation inside your chest as your eyes meet his. It was something you had never felt before, a small burst of a fluttering that briskly washed over you before disappearing just as quickly. Like a pinwheel was placed inside of you and a strong wind had suddenly started blowing. You shake your head, returning to the matter at hand. You are probably just experiencing some anxiety due to what has happened, you argue mentally. “Did you just laugh at me?”

As you finally take him in properly, the guy before you looks as dazed as you felt just now, courtesy of your minor panic attack; his lips agape and his round eyes blinking while his dark pupils are fixed on you. You two remain that way for a few seconds in an impromptu staring contest that causes the peculiar feeling to bloom inside your chest once again.

When he finally speaks, his voice is soft. “You… offered to bind a notebook for a stranger,” His lips twitch into a grin. “It was a little funny.”

You open your mouth but promptly close it, unable to come up with an answer that wouldn’t make you appear like more of an idiot than you already do. You sigh. “Sorry,” you mumble, your voice low as well. “I say stupid shit when I’m nervous.”

He waves his hand dismissively. “It’s okay. I’m—”

“You two, on the back,” your professor calls out in a louder voice, however still keeping her calm demeanor. You and your seatmate turn to look at her. “I’m going to teach a few new phrases useful for traveling now. How about you two talk after class? This is actually quite perfect. Minho is one of my best students, so he could help you catch up to where we are.” She offers the two of you a small smile, and you feel your cheeks burn.

This class wasn’t mandatory, and you didn’t need it to get your degree. It is still a class, nonetheless. Ever since high school, you’ve always hated people who disrespect their professors by brazenly talking or sleeping during class.

“I’m sorry, professor,” You muttered. Beside you, your seatmate — Minho, as he was just called — scoots closer to you and whispers something you don’t understand under his breath. You look at him, confused. He chuckles, and you feel his breath on your cheek. It makes the odd fluttering return.

“Gomenasai,” He repeats more clearly, his voice louder, “It’s ‘I’m sorry’ in Japanese.” He offers you a smile, and you soak in just how good-looking he is. Ever since you first raised your head to look at him — when the pinwheel inside your chest rapidly spun and unexplainedly made you feel nervous — you knew he was a handsome guy, but his soft smile and calm eyes made him look even more annoyingly pretty.

Before you’re able to do it yourself, your professor speaks again and pulls you out of your trance.

“In this case, Sumimasen would be a bit more appropriate,” she corrects Minho, who clicks his tongue and mutters something under his breath. The woman chuckles at his reaction. “It’s okay. This is also something you can explain to Y/N after class.”

As the class went on, you couldn’t help but notice how Minho didn’t take any notes. Your mind latched onto how you ruined his notebook and how it was your fault that he couldn’t properly study during today’s class, so you couldn’t find the courage to offer him some paper so he could take notes.

After almost an hour of unrelenting guilt swallowing you up slowly, you place your hand on Minho’s shoulder as soon as the professor announces class is over after assigning the students a small written assignment.

“We could talk outside? If you want,” you offer him, feeling the now-familiar nervousness come back, making your mouth speak faster than your brain can even think to rationalize, “There’s a bench I really like outside this building. It’s a good spot. There’s a nice shade, and it’s secluded enough that people don’t bother me when I’m studying. Or googling how to bind a notebook.”

Minho lets out a brief chuckle. “Okay. I would love to talk on your favorite bench.”

You blink at him. “I don’t have a favorite bench.”

“Hm, it sure sounded like it. You listed some good attributes of that bench,” He argues, a grin etched onto his lips.

“I told you I say stupid shit when I’m nervous.”

He raises an eyebrow at your words. “You’re nervous?”

“Of course I am. I never bound a notebook before.”

Minho lets out a hearty laugh this time, his head thrown back and his eyes turning into crescent moons before he shakes his head. He picks his notebook off the table, showing you the crinkly light brown-tinted pages. “It’s dry now. I actually kind of like it, gave the pages a sort of vintage vibe. You don’t have to bind me a new notebook,” He reassures you, placing the small book into his bag. “As much as I would love to see how that would turn out.”

And just like that, your nervousness fades away. You smile at Minho, asking that he follow you over to your favorite bench.

The two of you talked for almost two hours. During that time, Minho helped you catch up with the vocabulary and phrases you had missed in class. When you asked him how he was able to know so much off the top of his head, his lips curled into a crooked grin as he sheepishly told you that he had been taking Japanese lessons since he was in high school. He explained that because he procrastinated signing up for an elective course, the advanced class was full by the time he got to it, so he decided to go for the introductory one instead. You chuckled and questioned why he would choose to spend his time on a course when he already knew everything being taught. He shrugged and explained that it was nice to have at least one class in which he didn’t have to try and that the fact that it made him feel smart also helped.

Not even your shift at work was able to make your conversation stop flowing, as Minho offered to walk with you to the coffee shop upon realizing it was near his apartment.

That was one of the many coincidences and things in common you found to have with each other that day.

It started with ordinary things like the fact that Minho had three cats back home just like you and how he had been collecting plushies since he was a child, while you had started your own collection as soon as you had access to money of your own. Or how your favorite authors were Jane Austen and Charlotte Brontë — Minho swore you would die if you saw the special edition books he had back at home.

Then, it became a bit more amusing as you found out that Minho had worked at a convenience store chain when he first finished high school, and it was the same one you worked at for your first job after starting university. And you both had worked there for exactly a year and two months before quitting. You then told him about how you ended up attending this university after your top three choices turned you down, and his choices were the same as yours. And just like you, he also got rejected by his top three options, which led him to attend the same university as you.

You two couldn’t hide your bewilderment, eyes widening and lips bursting into laughter as these linked facts kept spilling out during your conversation. It was strange, you thought, but in a comforting way. It was almost as if you two had been living weirdly similar lives, all while having no clue about the other’s existence.

The two of you approach the small coffee shop while talking about your degrees. You try your best not to bore Minho with your ‘existential crisis-inducing psychology talks,’ as Hyunjin always put it, and you mostly listen to him as he talks about programming. He tells you that his dream is to develop cozy games that people can jump into without much thought, simply to relax. He says he knows how stressful life is and that people sometimes need something they can mindlessly do to get their minds off of shit. You resonate with it more than you care to admit, as cozy idle games are one of your favorite things to do while locked inside your room.

“So I do these freelancing gigs to make money but I’m actually set to start my first quote-unquote real job in two weeks,” he beams as you two stop in front of the coffee shop. Minho’s eyes lit up the moment he started speaking about his degree, and although you didn’t understand most of the terms he used, it is always endearing to watch someone talk about something they’re so passionate about. “There’s this guy who’s graduating soon who recruited me and a friend for a project he’s working on, so it’s not technically a job and we’ll work in his living room. I’ll still get some money and the chance to actually develop something, though, so it’s better than nothing.”

You smile at him. “If you like programming as much as your words led me to believe, I’m sure it won’t even feel like a job.”

Minho’s ears turned a faint shade of pink, and he scratched his head. “Sorry, I talked your ear off about shit you don’t even understand.”

“I think everybody likes to hear people talk about things they like,” you assure him, “It was a good talk. I still can’t believe we have so many things in common. It was kind of funny how they kept coming up.”

Minho chuckles, bouncing on the heels of his feet. “Guess the universe is giving us signs that we should be friends.”

“It seems like it.”

That day, you work with a persistent smile engraved on your lips. You can’t remember the last time you felt so good about meeting someone new. Despite your awkward first encounter, you found that talking to Minho was as easy as talking to an old childhood friend. It felt refreshing. The last friend you made was Hyunjin — whom you were so grateful to now for pushing you out of your comfort zone — and after that, you had unknowingly closed yourself off.

Minho had managed to open up your mind to the idea of letting someone in almost comically fast. And you loved that.

It’s been a month since you’ve been attending Japanese classes, and your studying sessions with Minho — which always turned into long conversations on what now had really become your favorite bench — were a weekly appointment, much like having him walk with you to work twice a week.

Today, however, Minho stopped you with a hand on your shoulder as you made your way toward your usual spot. When he asked you if you would like to study at his favorite bakery today instead, his eyes rapidly blinking as he looked at you through his bangs which had grown to slightly cover his eyes since you met him, you just couldn’t say no. He stammered as he promised that the place was even closer than the one where you worked, so you wouldn’t be late for your shift.

You smiled at his apparent nervousness, finding it endearing. You knew all too well how stressed you felt when offering something new or initiating plans with a new friend, and Minho seemed to be the same.

“Good thing you made this offer today, on my day off,” you bumped shoulders with him. “It’s almost like you knew.”

You begin walking, and Minho gently pushes you to the side so that he’s the one walking on the edge of the side of the sidewalk. You shoot him a questioning look, and he blinks at you again.

“Sorry, force of habit,” he chuckles, “My mom taught me a guy shouldn’t let a girl walk on the street side. I know it’s old-fashioned and probably made me seem like an ancient guy who wouldn’t let his wife work or something. Sorry.”

You shake your head. “No, it’s kind of sweet. I never had anyone do that with me.”

You feel the pinwheel twirl inside your chest again.

The two of you approach a familiar building together. You furrow your eyebrows as you take in the floral curtains on the windows and the pretty font adorning the store sign of your favorite bakery. You think about how it would be nice if you two came here on another day. Maybe you could use that opportunity to finally introduce Minho to your other friends.

You only realize Minho has stopped walking when he calls out your name. When you turn around, he’s standing in front of the bakery with a smile.

“This is the place.” He points toward the white door with a nod as you return to where he’s standing.

No fucking way.

“This is your favorite bakery?” You ask, although it is a stupid question. Minho nods. You play with the strap of your bag. “Okay, this is starting to sound ridiculous, but I swear I’m not lying. This is my favorite bakery, too.”

Minho’s eyes widen at your words, and his lips curl into a smile again. “Shut the fuck up.”

“I will not,” You chuckle.

Minho opens the door and the two of you walk inside, the familiar smell of freshly brewed coffee and baked goods bringing back great memories you made in this place. You often come here with your two roommates; it’s close enough to both your house and university that you can skip out on taking the bus, the atmosphere is always relaxing and comforting, not to mention the delicious cakes they sell. You smile to yourself as you remember Eunha scuffing down far too many slices of their chocolate cake after a nasty breakup a couple of months ago, tears streaming down her face so violently that the poor little old man who owns the shop appeared to check up on her.

“Their lemon cake is my favorite.”

“The lemon cake is what made me—”

You and Minho speak concurrently, with you unable to even finish your sentence before you both freeze for a couple of seconds in front of the only small table available at the crowded shop.

He’s the first one to move, pulling out his chair a bit awkwardly. “We should…” He trails off before clearing his throat as you sit down before him. “Should really make a written list of things we weirdly have in common.”

“At this point, I think it’d be easier if we made one of what we don’t have in common.”

You two settle for the obvious choice of two pieces of lemon cake with a cup of coffee for him and a glass of cola for you. Minho almost looked offended when you informed him that you hate coffee, wondering out loud why you even worked at a coffee shop before ensuring he could change your mind with just the five amazing facts about coffee he thought about off the top of his head. You shrugged him off with a grin. You couldn’t deny the irony of being a barista and having to make endless cups of a drink you despised daily, but you were sure Minho could never change your mind about coffee.

You two talked about your improvement in Japanese in the last month until the waiter returned with your order. Minho insists you’re a natural and could be on his level in a couple of years if you tried, but you roll your eyes at his compliments. You’ve never been naturally good at anything. That wasn’t about to change now.

“You know,” Minho begins once the waiter steps away from your table, looking around the coffee shop. People slowly started to leave as it got later in the day; the place was now much quieter, and the atmosphere even more cozy. “I used to think I would meet somebody in a place like this.”

“Like, in a romantic sense?”

Minho hums, still looking out to his side. You notice his side profile is really pretty, and you have to hide your smile by sipping your drink.

When he returns his gaze to you, he’s the one smiling. “Yes, in a romantic sense. Like being destined to meet someone.”

“Look at you, a hopeless romantic,” You roll your eyes with a chuckle. You never thought of Minho as someone like that. He seemed rather methodical, always following a routine and too engrossed in his codes to be preoccupied with something like love.

Minho furrowed his brows. “Why the eye roll?”

“I just don’t believe in that stuff,” you shrug with a small smile, “Stuff like destiny, soulmates, love…” You trail off, taking your spoon and poking the slice of cake in front of you. “Love has the awful tendency of being bad.”

Of course, you once believed all those things. Doesn’t everybody? But love has shown you time and time again that those are things reserved only for some people. And, clearly, you are not one of them. So why believe in it?

“It’s the most amazing thing in life,” Minho’s voice almost startled you as you were so deeply entranced in your thoughts.

You don’t lift your head to answer him, instead drawing mindless shapes on the icing on top of your cake.

“What is?”

“Love,” He replies in a soft voice. When you finally look at him, you’re surprised to find Minho’s deep eyes already looking at you, a small smile adorning his lips. “Love is the most amazing thing in life.”

You freeze.

You tear your eyes away from him, gaze focusing on the plate in front of you again.

You were careful with your rules. No parties, no bars, no talking to your male co-workers unless absolutely necessary, and no male friends unless they were in a relationship or proved beyond a reasonable doubt to only be interested in you platonically — which was what Minho was. So, why did him bringing up love make you feel so nervous?

Under the table, you unwittingly bounce your leg. This was stupid. Minho has been your friend for a month now; you see each other twice a week, and you talk for hours, always so comfortable around each other in a way that is still so new to you. He has never flirted with you or treated you in any way that led you to believe that he wanted anything more than to be your friend. You will not let your foolish trauma ruin what was proving to be an amazing friendship. He was simply sharing his thoughts on a topic. That’s all love was: a conversation topic.

You force out a chuckle as you snap yourself out of your senseless panic and look up at Minho once more. “We can just agree to disagree?”

He’s quiet for a few seconds, something you can’t quite pinpoint swimming in his deep eyes as he looks at you. Instead of breaking the silence, he scoops up a piece of cake with his spoon and raises it like a glass. You shake your head with a giggle as you realize what he’s doing, toasting your spoons together at the center of the table before you both eat your spoonfuls of cake.

“You know,” He speaks as soon as he’s done eating, his eyes having never left yours. “Love can never be bad. I don’t think so, at least. It never makes anything worse. It can only ever make things better.”

You hum and shift in your seat, lowering your gaze toward the table. The truth is, you hate talking about love. That — coupled with your shame regarding your past relationships — is the reason why you never indulge in this type of conversation, even with your own mother. But years of swallowing down your thoughts and opinions whenever the subject was brought up only caused a buildup of emotions in your throat. So much so that you only realized you were talking once you were midway through a sentence.

“Love can make so many things worse,” you affirmed, your eyes following the polka-dot pattern on the tablecloth, “Losing someone is bad enough, but put love into that equation, and it just worsens tenfold.”

Minho nods. “By that logic, you can say that having someone by your side is always good, but if it’s someone you love, it makes it better tenfold, right?”

You let out a chuckle as you realize you two could go back and forth about that subject for ages.

But it felt good to finally speak out your feelings on the matter, so you continue, “Love can’t be that great if people can so easily fall out of it and for so many different but equally stupid reasons. You’re suddenly not attractive to them anymore, or you have different opinions, or they love picking fights but hate it when it’s the other way around…” You trail off, swallowing down a lump in your throat as you speak out of experience. But Minho didn’t need to know that. You lift your eyes. “Not to mention falling in love with a new person all while supposedly already being in love with someone.”

“That’s not genuine love,” Minho shakes his head with furrowed eyebrows, as if it was his first time hearing of such things happening. “Real love is unconditional and understanding. Real love makes the person you love beautiful simply because they’re them. Real love doesn’t allow you to hurt the person you love because it feels like you’re hurting yourself as well.” His expression softens, and his eyes lock onto yours. “And real love makes it so that you can only see the one you love. You can’t possibly fall in love with someone else if you’re truly already in love.”

You gnaw on your bottom lip, nodding slowly. You hate the fact that part of you is desperate to believe that what Minho said was true. And you hate it even more that an even bigger part has already dismissed every single word that left his lips.

Desperate to shift the subject from Reasons Why My Exes Left Me — which only leaves you feeling sad and pathetic — back to Love Is Amazing, you decide to try and lighten the mood.

“Okay, but then explain to me how love is so great when you can just have sex with anyone, and it feels the same either way?” You question him with a teasing grin on your face. Minho shakes his head with a smile and eats another bite of his cake. You continue, “Be it a stranger at a party you met ten minutes ago or the love of your life, sex will always be sex. Therefore, you’re wrong, mister Love-Makes-Everything-Better.”

Minho chuckles around his mug, eyes closing as he almost spits out his coffee. His eyes are like crescent moons when he looks at you again, clearly amused by your words. “Well, yeah, of course, sex will always feel good no matter who you’re doing it with. It’s sex, and sex feels good,” He shrugs dismissively. “But sex with love is different. You aren’t just fucking, just fulfilling your own desires selfishly. Love makes sex better because you feel good simply by making the person who’s so important to you feel good. It makes you want to melt into the other person and become one with them because close isn’t close enough when you’re in love.

“Touching them feels like a gift, like heaven. Tasting them feels like heaven. Hearing their voice in their most blissful state feels like heaven. The trust and connection you feel in that moment is heaven, and that’s only possible through love. You can have sex with anyone, but you can only make love to someone you love, and those are two different things. That’s how love makes sex better. Therefore, I’m not wrong.”

As you take in Minho’s words, spoken so casually, like it was common knowledge, they leave you speechless. You watch him as he smiles triumphantly when he realizes you aren’t going to refute him — because you can’t refute him.

You berate yourself mentally as you notice the familiar feeling of arousal wash over you as you repeat his words inside your head. Not because it was Minho who said those things, but simply because that kind of sex sounded so good. Good in a way you had never once experienced before. Like heaven, as he had put it.

Your experience with sex has always been simply about fulfilling desires. You thought that was all there was to it.

Until now.

And even so, with your ex-boyfriends, it was always unbalanced. Ninety percent about their pleasure and only ten percent about yours. The first time you had a guy go down on you was the first time you had sex with Hyunjin, and by that point, you had already had five boyfriends. It felt weird when it happened, and you remember Hyunjin whining about how you didn’t have to ask him every five minutes if he was really okay with doing that. It had always been different with him, the good kind of different. He had never been selfish during sex; if anything, Hyunjin was too much of a giver, sometimes forgetting about his own pleasure in order to focus on yours. You thought that was the best sex you could ever have.

Until now.

Because, even with Hyunjin, there was never a genuine connection. It never felt like a gift to touch him and have him touch you. It was never anything more than sex, more than something you both did because it felt good and it was easy. He slept in your bed, and he cuddled you until morning came, but it had never once felt anything close to what Minho described.

You can’t help but wonder if Minho has ever experienced that. You desperately want to ask him, but you two aren’t close enough for that yet.

You also can’t help but wonder why you spend the rest of the evening raging a war against yourself as your mind is consumed with thoughts of what it would be like to experience that kind of sex with him.

It’s late in the night on the following Saturday, and your phone incessantly vibrating under your pillow rudely demands your attention just as you’re about to fall asleep. You squint your eyes as you type in your password. You sigh as you see Hyunjin’s name on your screen because of course it’s him.

Hyune: I’m outside open the door Hyune: please open the door? quick? Hyune: mrs. choi is gonna kill me if I use the intercom pls I don’t wanna die Hyune: I’m in my pajamas do you know how humiliating this is

Hyune: and I’m highkey pissed off Hyune: I WILL sleep on the bench outside your house if you don’t let me in and then I’ll die and who’s gonna live with the guilt? Hyune: you Hyune: OPENM TEH DOOR

You roll your eyes at his dramatic texts, stepping out of the comfort of your bed and padding across the floor as quietly as possible so as not to wake up your roommates. You open your front door and speed past the hallway and Mrs. Choi’s home, reaching the outside door in record time. It’s something you’ve done more times than you care to admit in order to let Hyunjin into your house. Your tenant was a sweet woman, insistent that she was modern and understanding of ‘young people’, but she despised people coming into your home any later than midnight.

You step outside, finding Hyunjin pacing back and forth like a creep in front of your house. True to his words, he stood in his checkered pajama pants and a black t-shirt. His hair was in a ponytail, the strands messily sticking out everywhere like he had tossed and turned in bed before coming here.

“You look like shit,” you speak up, causing him to jump and let out a gasp. You chuckle as he scowls at you, climbing the few steps to reach the door.

“I had a fight with Mingyu,” he grumbles as you two walk toward your front door. “He told me I spilled paint on his favorite shirt, which is fucking impossible since I don’t even paint anywhere near his shit.” 

“I mean, you are a messy painter.”

Hyunjin shoots you a look as you close your front door behind you. You take off your shoes and walk toward your bedroom in silence. This was routine. Hyunjin knew the rules: no knocking on the outside door, no buzzing the intercom, no shouting from outside, keep your voice down in the hallway, no talking until you reach your bedroom. It was all automatic at this point.

His voice is louder when he speaks again inside your locked bedroom. “First of all, I am not a messy painter. The paint is messy, not me. Second of all, if Mingyu wasn’t a fucking idiot, maybe he wouldn’t leave his favorite shirt on the floor of the living room right by my art corner,” Hyunjin huffs and crosses his arms over his chest, “If that’s how he treats his favorite shirt, I feel bad for his girlfriend.”

You let out a chuckle, which is cut short by him pulling you into his arms. “Hyunjin, that analogy makes no sense.”

“Yes, it does. You treat your favorite shirt like shit, you treat your girlfriend like shit,” he states matter-of-factly before pulling you into a kiss.

This was routine. It was all automatic at this point.

Hyunjin kisses you like he’s angry. Because he is, and that’s one of the reasons why you two do this. You let out your frustrations during sex. You complain, and you let off steam until you both feel okay again. It’s been this way for a year and some months now, and you never once thought anything of it. It was beneficial for you both, so why change or question it?

But that was before your talk with Minho. Before you were awoken to the truth that you’d been having meaningless sex your whole life.

When you’re pulled away from your thoughts, you’re already laid in your bed with Hyunjin hovering over you. His lips and hands wander through your body as he mumbles things you can’t quite understand; you can only make out your name and Mingyu’s mixed with curses. You try to bring yourself back to the moment, bringing your legs to wrap around Hyunjin’s waist and bring him closer to you.

He stops kissing your neck and yanks his shirt over his head, his hair untying in the process and falling on his face like a curtain. You giggle and try to fix it with your fingers. Hyunjin pouts.

“Don’t you think I’m right?”

You frown and hope he can’t see your confused expression in the dim lighting. You truly weren’t paying any attention to what he had been saying, too engrossed in your thoughts and too busy feeling sorry for yourself. Hyunjin’s tendency to tell you about his frustrations during sex always left you a bit puzzled, but it was also oddly sweet. It was like he trusted you so deeply as a friend that he believed he could share anything with you, no matter the time.

So you nod, lightly pulling at his hair. “Of course you’re right.”

He hums and buries his head on your chest, grinding his hips into your clothed core. “Of course I’m right,” he mumbles under his breath.

Everything is a blur after that, your mind insistent on repeating Minho’s words like an annoying echo. When Hyunjin’s tongue fucked you hastily, and he murmured something about you tasting so good, all you could hear was Minho’s voice telling you how tasting the person you love feels like heaven. When Hyunjin pushed his cock into you, his hands gripping your thighs and head buried in your neck, all you could think about was how this sex paled in comparison to what you could’ve been having — what you could have already had — if only you weren’t so damn unlovable. 

You knew that Minho didn’t intend to make you feel bad with his words. They weren’t targeted at you. But that didn’t stop your mind from sabotaging and putting yourself down. It was one of your biggest talents, after all.

Your body was present and responsive the entire time; you moaned because it felt good, and you kissed Hyunjin because you wanted to. But you were mentally somewhere else.

And the worst thing is, you’re a hundred percent sure Hyunjin doesn’t even notice it.

Because this wasn’t love. This was only sex.

And this was all you had ever known.

Time flies by faster than your brain can comprehend; before you know it, another month goes by. You only managed to go to your favorite bakery with Minho one more time before your work hours were changed, your shift now starting a mere thirty minutes after your Japanese class ends. He still walked you to work twice a week, but you would be lying if you said it didn’t upset you to have to let go of your weekly talks.

Minho also became busier due to his own job. With so little time to see each other face to face outside of class, most of your talks took place over text. He talked about his job with so much adoration it made you a little jealous; his partners were now simply friends he worked with, and his joy over finally being able to create a cozy game made it so that he pushed himself over his limit, often sleeping on his friend’s couch after working until four a.m. and getting through the next day on excessive amounts of coffee.

That was how you two came up with the idea of Minho dropping by the café where you work to pick up coffee for him and his friends. He would drop by at least twice every day, his friend’s house — which also served as their office — only one bus stop away.

The first time Minho came by, he had his wallet and phone in one hand, a sharpie and a block of sticky notes in the other. You eyed him curiously as he scribbled on the piece of paper while your co-worker prepared his coffee. When he was done, he stuck the note to the monitor in front of you on the counter. You furrowed your brows as your eyes shifted from the Japanese words on the bright yellow note back to Minho’s smug face. You were certainly grateful he at least had the courtesy of including the romanization of whatever he had written down. Not that it helped you in any way.

“Since our studying sessions after class were rudely taken from us, this is your extra homework. It’s all words we already learned. You just gotta think a little bit, and you’ll figure it out. You’re smart, I know you can do it,” He assured you.

Expect you weren’t that smart and ended up giving up by the time you got home that night. The piece of paper was no longer sticky on the border due to you carrying it around all day, boring holes into it as if that would magically give you the answer. You snapped a picture of it as you got ready for bed and sent it to Minho, begging him to put you out of your misery and simply give you the answer. ‘I want to drink coffee,’ he replied. You slapped your hand over your forehead with so much force you were sure the entire house had heard you. He was right; you did learn that in class. Curse the Japanese language for being so difficult.

After that, it became a routine. You waited expectantly for Minho’s visits daily, but you are extra excited today. It’s a Friday, and your birthday is tomorrow. After much pestering from Eunha, you agreed to have a small gathering at your house. It only made sense to invite Minho; he’s become one of your closest friends in the two months you’ve known him, after all.

As he walks into the coffee shop, sticky notes and sharpie in hand, you chuckle to yourself. You two chat about the development of his game, with Minho kindly using layman’s terms when explaining it to you. He also tells you about how one of his friends got so frustrated with a code that he threw his phone at a wall before immediately regretting it and crying on the floor next to Minho’s desk. Before you can get worried, he assures you that it’s just an ordinary day at the office, and the three of them end up laughing everything off at the end of the day.

After taking his order, you watch as he begins writing down your homework for the day on the small piece of paper in his hand. As you look around the coffee shop, most tables are empty, and the sun is starting to set outside the glass doors.

“You wanna come over this Saturday?” You ask Minho, who looks up at you before adjusting his glasses on the bridge of his nose. That was one thing you learned about Minho since he began coming over: he wears glasses. Not every day, but enough times for you to notice how good he looks with them. But friends find each other attractive all the time, you justify it. “You never came over to my house, and my roommates really want to meet you. Plus, it’s my birthday tomorrow.”

Minho’s eyes widen. “Your birthday? And you save that information to the end?”

“It’s not a big deal. I usually never even celebrate.” You shrug lightly. You’ve never been big on birthdays, as you just don’t see the reason why it’s supposed to feel different from any other day of the year. “But my roommate pestered me to do something this year, so I agreed to have a party.”

Minho shifts on his feet. “I… really hate parties…” He trails off.

“It’s not a party party. I promise!” You hold up your pinky finger. “It’s more of a get-together, just my roommates and my only two other friends. And, you…” You trail off, “If you come.”

Minho blinks his eyes a couple of times before tearing the piece of paper he was writing on from the pad and crumpling it in his hand. He quickly jots down something new and sticks it to your forehead.

“Minho!” You scold him, to which he laughs, his nose scrunching and eyes crinkling. You advert your gaze from him as your persistent thoughts regarding how unfairly pretty Minho is begin to flood your brain once again. You take the note and analyze it:

はい (Hai)

You smile as you understand the word, looking up at him.

“I’d love to come to your birthday party,” He beams. “Thank you for inviting me.”

To say Minho is nervous would be an understatement.

He gets out of his car twice, ready to march back inside his friend’s apartment like a coward and pretend that nothing happened both times. Only when he thinks back to how you smiled at him when he agreed to your invitation does he find the courage to start the car and drive to your house. He’d noticed for a while now how much he likes you. But it was when he agreed with the idea of going to the café you worked at to pick up coffee that it truly dawned on him that he really liked you. Minho hated taking the bus, he hated doing anything other than zoning out on the couch during his breaks, he hated bustling shops, and he hated how his co-workers both managed to have such intricate coffee orders.

Yet he agreed to that idea, even suggesting he drop by two times a day.

He noticed he’d felt a familiar small whirlpool inside his chest whenever he was with you, when he heard you talk about something you liked or saw you smile. He’s also noticed that this tiny whirlpool has been growing bigger and bigger the more he’s been around you.

But that doesn’t scare him. Minho loves love. He loves to be in love, to love someone, and to make that person feel loved. It’s his favorite thing about life. If he was honest, he missed it so much he didn’t know how he was able to live without it.

Just down the block from your house, he parks his car and gathers his phone and his present for you — clearly clumsily wrapped, even with his co-workers’ help. He feels another wave of nervousness wash over him as he approaches the house; he’s an hour late and needs to mentally prepare to socialize with people he’s never met before. Minho chuckles as he realizes a silly party makes him more nervous than the prospect of possibly falling in love.

You open the door almost as soon as he rings the intercom, and he walks down the hallway into your house door; the crooked box he’s been holding makes his hands sweat. The first thing he notices as you open the door is your styled hair with a big white bow on the back, looking much prettier than the ugly bow he and his friends managed to stick on top of his present. He smiles at the sight and scratches his ear in a futile attempt to stop them from turning red.

God, he really liked you, didn’t he?

“Thank you for coming,” you tell him with a smile. Minho notices the quiet music playing inside the house, the simple decorations, and the cake on top of the kitchen counter. He mentally sighs in relief. This truly wasn’t anything like a big party. “You’re wearing your glasses again,” you point out as Minho walks inside and removes his shoes. He subconsciously reaches his left hand to touch his wire-rimmed glasses that sit on his nose bridge. He grimaces and curses at his friend for making him stay later than he was supposed to today.

“I had no time to go home and change,” He apologizes, fingers now toying with the stupid bow on top of the box. “I usually wear contacts, but they make my eyes dry if I stare at the computer for too long, so I just… wear my glasses at work…” Minho trails off, suddenly feeling stupid, his eyes looking anywhere but toward you.

You chuckle, lightly touching his glasses for a second before moving away again. “You always come to the coffee shop wearing them, and I think you look really good,” you assured him. His eyes quickly met yours, only for you to advert your gaze this time. “You should wear them more often.”

Minho only hums, lightly nodding his head. He feels stupid all over again as the image of himself throwing his contact lenses down the drain crosses his mind.

Clearing his throat, he finally hands you your gift. You giggle at the mismatched wrapping paper and poor excuse of a bow, which makes Minho let out a chuckle and murmur an apology. You open the box, and your eyes light up when you spot the stuffed bunny you have been raving about since you two met. It was the only animal missing from your collection, but you couldn’t find the right time to save up money to buy it. Minho didn’t need to ask if you liked it as he watched your smile grow bigger as you looked at the brown bunny.

“Come, I gotta put him in my bed now,” you beamed and took Minho’s hand in yours, leading him to the living room. There, five people sat on the couch and on the floor. Minho furrows his brows as he takes in a head of light brown hair covered by a familiar beanie. “These are my friends. Eunha’s the girl with short hair on the floor, and Soojung’s the one with blonde hair next to her. They’re also my roommates,” You point at them as you speak. “That’s Jisung sitting next to Soojung; he’s also her boyfriend. And then Hyunjin, with the long hair, sitting next to Chan on the couch. Everyone, this is Minho from my Japanese class.”

With that, you pad off to your room with your bunny in tow. As Chan finally turns to look at Minho, his shocked expression mirrors his. They stare at each other for a while before Chan finally breaks the silence.

“What the fuck, that’s my co-worker.”

Minho narrows his eyes. “So this is why you had to leave an hour earlier today?”

As you come out of your room, you chuckle. “Chan is your co-worker?” You ask Minho, “I can’t believe this. He’s been our friend for longer than I’ve known you. He came like a package deal when Jisung began dating Soojung.”

“Damn, dude, you hate me so much you never talked about me to your friend?” Chan gasped, a hand over his heart. “I’m hurt.”

Minho rolls his eyes but is unable to stop a small grin from forming on his lips as the entire living room erupts in laughter. “Of course I talked about you. I talked about you and Seungmin all the time. It’s just I…” Minho shifts on his feet, shrugging. “I never said your names.”

More laughter seeps out of the group of people, including Chan, and Minho finds himself laughing along this time, shaking his head at his own stupidity. 

He sits beside Chan on the couch while Hyunjin heads to the kitchen with you. He quickly asks him how he came to be friends with you in the first place. Chan explains that he’s been in a class with Jisung for almost two years, and the boy had always pestered him about ‘old people’ needing to hang out with people their age. That’s how he ended up meeting Soojung as soon as she became Jisung’s girlfriend. You and Eunha were an inevitable addition, seeing as you were not only roommates but also great friends.

You offer Minho a beer, which he declines. As much as he wanted to, no beer was worth having to take the bus back home. He silently sips his cola as he watches your group of friends chat. You end up sitting beside him on the couch, your friend Hyunjin to your right.

Minho finds that he missed getting together with people like this and didn’t even realize it. His only friends were left behind back at home, and although they were less than an hour away by bus, their busy lives prevented them from meeting in person. Minho’s favorite memories from his teenage years were having his friends over and just doing nothing for hours, talking about stupid shit until their stomachs hurt from laughing. Eating takeout on the couch with Chan and Seungmin after work came close, but they were always too tired and too stressed to entertain the idea of making jokes. Those were times when Minho realized he had really become an adult.

Jisung’s loud voice suddenly booms through the living room and startles an already drunk-looking Eunha, who murmurs something about the younger boy giving her a heart attack one day. 

“I’m bored,” he grumbles, draping his body over Soojung. “Let’s play spin the bottle.”

Soojung rolls her eyes at him, flicking his forehead. “Are you a teenager?”

Jisung pouts, sitting up straight once more. “We’re in university. University students play this fucking game all the time,” he states matter-of-factly. “Don’t make me regret falling for an older woman.”

“Jisung, I’m only three years older than you, I’m not—”

“Don’t make me call you noona.”

Soojung inhales deeply before turning to face the people sitting on the couch, placing one of the empty beer bottles scattered around her feet on top of the coffee table. “Let’s play spin the bottle. But let’s do dares instead of kissing, that’s too boring.”

Jisung beams, cuddling close to her like a needy child. Minho chuckles at the sight.

Eunha scoots closer to the couple so the group is seated in a circle around the coffee table, half of them on the couch and half on the floor. Minho never had the chance to play spin the bottle, which seemed to be such a staple game of one’s teenage years. By the time his friends were off sneaking into clubs and drinking behind their parents’ backs, he was already in a committed relationship and well aware of the fact that he didn’t enjoy parties.

It seems silly, but he’s glad he won’t live past his youth without experiencing such a trivial thing.

Soojung spins the bottle, and the neck stops facing Chan while the bottom faces Jisung.

“Take your shirt off,” Jisung waves a finger at Chan, who looks somewhat disoriented. Minho chuckles under his breath just as you do the same. You two face each other and let out a hearty laugh, your arm coming to rest on his bicep before retrieving back to your lap faster than Minho hoped it would.

Soojung squishes Jisung’s cheeks and places a small kiss on his lips. “You’re such a fucking chaotic bisexual,” she giggles, “Y’know, Chan, Jisung has had the biggest crush on you since you two first met.”

Chan shakes his head with a stifled laugh and proceeds to remove his shirt, neatly placing it on his lap.

Jisung is next to spin the bottle, this time landing on Soojung, who you dare to show her most embarrassing text. After showing the group a string of texts showing raunchy screenshots of a manhwa she’d been reading at that time, all sent to one of her class group chats which included some professors, she lets out a heavy sigh and orders Eunha to spin the bottle before any questions can be asked.

This time, the neck faces you while the bottom faces Eunha herself. With a smile, the short-haired girl dares you to kiss Minho.

He feels his smile drop at the very second the words leave her lips. This was not what he had in mind for tonight.

“What?” You sputter, “Why?”

Eunha shrugs, adjusting herself so she’s seated upright and staring right at you. “Well, he’s the only one here who would be actually fun to see you kiss. Jisung and Soojung are okay with each other hooking up with other people, so that’s no fun,” she explains, using her fingers to list her reasons, “I’m not into girls, so that’s no fun for me. Hyunjin is too obvious. We all already know Chan, so it would also be boring. Minho is like fresh meat. That is fun.”

Minho’s brain begins finding a suitable excuse for why you two can’t kiss, because he’s certain you have no interest in doing it. Not only are you friends, but your reaction didn’t exactly exude excitement at the prospect of kissing him. Just as he’s ready to lie through his teeth, you turn to him and place your hand on his shoulder, a touch so soft he’s barely able to feel it through the fabric of his shirt.

“Is this okay with you?” You ask him, the tone of your voice so sweet Minho feels like it melts his every thought until his brain is nothing but a sugary pool filled with only you. So he nods because god, yes, this is okay with him.

You gingerly place your right hand on his cheek, bringing your faces closer until your lips press together. The whirlpool inside his chest spins fast, like a vortex dragging every sense of his body toward you and only you.

You remain still for a few seconds, Minho’s eyes opening slightly to search for any sign of regret on your face. Before he can even properly look at you, your lips begin to move against his — gently and carefully, like you’re not sure if this is what he wants. Minho deepens the kiss and hesitates three times before committing to placing his left hand on your waist. The giggles around the two of you nothing but a muffled murmur to him. He presses another kiss to your lips, his body shifting until he is all but caging you against the back of the couch. But just as he swipes his tongue across your bottom lip, you push him back with a smile, Minho chasing after your lips.

He blinks a couple of times, eyes zoning into your smudged red lipstick. He subconsciously bites his own bottom lip, wondering if any of the color transferred to him. The surrounding murmurs bring Minho back to the moment this time, awkwardly clearing his throat before lifting himself off of you and sitting upright on the couch. He tunes out every comment regarding the kiss to the best of his abilities, focusing his energy on slowing down his heart rate. When he catches you giggling while looking at him, your arm touching his bicep yet again, he nods, grabbing his cola bottle from the floor and taking a sip.

Minho can’t remember the last time kissing someone got him so worked up. He entered a long-term relationship at such a young age that he’s only now realizing how unaccustomed he is to kissing someone new, to the rush that comes with having your lips pressing against the ones of someone you like. It was exhilarating and a bit terrifying all at the same time. He was awkward, unsure where to put his hands, uncertain if you were enjoying yourself. He was also greedy, wanting the moment to last for much longer than it had.

This had cemented the fact that he does, in fact, really like you.

After kissing you, the whirlpool living in his heart had now fully transformed into a tiny hurricane — with great chances of growing even bigger.

Minho only notices the game has continued upon hearing your voice complaining beside him. He watches as Soojung shrugs.

“It’s the only thing I could think of, sorry.”

“But why?” Hyunjin asks, placing his cup on the coffee table. “It’s a stupid dare.”

The blonde girl scoffs. “No, it’s not. I’ve had to basically live with you two for the past year, and it’s common knowledge how easily you get a boner for her.”

“Not true,” Hyunjin retorts, although it sounds more like a question than an affirmation.

Eunha blurts out, “You once got a boner watching her stir a cake mix.”

Hyunjin opens and closes his mouth before groaning, pulling you into his lap by the waist. You apologize to him quietly, to which Hyunjin shakes his head with a small smile.

Minho feels as if he’s intruding on something private.

You sit on Hyunjin’s knees, almost falling off his lap as you clearly try to keep some distance between the two of you. Hyunjin clicks his tongue and pulls you closer to him until your back is pressed up against his chest. He whispers something in your ear, to which you lightly slap his arm as his lips upturn into a grin.

Minho is definitely intruding on something private.

At some point, you turn so you’re sitting across Hyunjin’s lap, your body now facing Minho. He can’t help but watch with dark eyes as the younger boy’s hands wander through your body; playing with the buttons on your blouse, squeezing your thighs, and caressing your skin a little too close to the hem of your skirt. He furrows his brows as he tries to understand your relationship with Hyunjin, seeing as you’re obviously not put off by his hands on your body.

Minho is so transfixed by the sight and his racing thoughts that he only realizes the game has ended when someone taps his shoulder from behind the couch.  When he looks back, Chan is holding a cigarette and motioning towards the stairs that lead to the house’s terrace.

In the chilly open space above the house, they sit on a bench behind a tall vertical planter. Minho wonders who tends to the garden as he observes the various flowers, as well as some vegetables and herbs scattered around him. The terrace is small; the garden taking up all the space, an old wooden railing that overlooks the quiet street the only other thing in his sight.

He and Chan chat about school and work, as they often do nowadays. After Chan recently broke up with his girlfriend, Minho found that his friend had become much more closed off, so the list of subjects they would talk about became minimal. Chan bites his thumb before taking a long drag of his cigarette. He chuckles when he mentions being scared of graduating next year. Minho bumps his shoulder with him, arguing that being in his situation is worse. He admits that he regrets starting university late and that being in his first year when he should already be in his third is discouraging. Chan dismisses his worries, reminding him of how Minho is often the one to fix broken codes and come up with ideas for their game whenever Seungmin gets stuck.

“A degree is just a piece of paper,” Chan says, throwing his cigarette butt at a nearby trashcan. “You’re already a fantastic programmer, Minho.”

“You’re just saying that because I saved your ass today.”

Chan shrugs. “You’ve saved my ass basically every day since we started working together.” After a beat of silence, he asks, “Why did you start uni so late, anyway? You never told me.”

Minho hums, digging his brain for a way to sum up the entire story. “It’s complicated—”

He’s interrupted by footsteps on the stairs leading to the terrace. A loud giggle echoes through the open space before you and Hyunjin step into their field of vision. The long-haired boy holds you from behind, and you two stagger toward the railing.

“Wish everyone would go home already so I could just fuck you,” Hyunjin whines as he turns your body around so you’re facing him. Minho almost chokes on nothing at those words, and Chan stifles a laugh with his hand. He curses the small space as they’re able to so clearly hear everything you’re saying.

You playfully kick Hyunjin’s shin. “Don’t say it like that, Hyune, what the fuck.”

“It’s true, though,” Hyunjin continues, pressing you against the railing. He towers over you, so the only thing Minho can see from where he’s seated is your white skirt floating in the wind behind the tall boy. “I had a stressful, terrible, awful, dreadful week. All I kept thinking about was coming over and relaxing with you.”

“See, when you put it like that, it doesn’t sound so awful.”

Hyunjin clicks his tongue. “There’s nothing awful about fucking. I know how much you like it, don’t act so coy.”

Minho watches as your hands clench around Hyunjin’s gray shirt, pulling him closer and kissing him softly, much like you had done to him a few moments before.

Minho presses his lips into a thin line. He connects every dot available to him inside his head and suddenly feels pathetic.

Hyunjin being too obvious of a choice for you to kiss, his hands all over your body, his words about fucking you, the way you kissed him like it was a habit.

If you had a boyfriend, why did you agree to kiss him?

The words swarm Minho’s brain. He vaguely recalls you and Hyunjin eventually walking out of the terrace. Chan starts a one-sided conversation about one of his classes, with Minho humming after every couple of sentences to appear like he’d been listening when his head is too busy wondering how to feel about everything.

Minho recalls Eunha walking up the stairs and shouting for the two of them to come downstairs to sing you happy birthday. He recalls Hyunjin’s hands wandering through your body throughout the song, his lips pressing small kisses on your face and lips as you smiled. He recalls feeling confused, stressed, jealous, and pathetic.

Minho is only truly back to the present moment once Chan’s voice bids him a loud goodbye, and the door slamming behind him makes his senses finally return to him. As he looks around, he notices that the only people left in the living room are Jisung, Hyunjin, and you. Beside him on the couch, Hyunjin stretches with a loud groan.

“I’m gonna take a shower. D’you have any of my clothes in your room?”

You sigh from where you’re sitting on the floor, resting against the television stand. “Of course, I do. You’re always living shit behind, you’re like our third roommate at this point.”

Hyunjin chuckles, walking over to give you a small peck on the lips before disappearing into your room. Minho gnaws on his bottom lip with a bitter smile as he realizes Hyunjin will sleep over at your house. The ugly feelings return as he remembers his thoughts about you these past few weeks when he unknowingly cultivated too big of a crush on you. Even on his way here tonight, when he had chuckled to himself at his lack of nervousness in the face of potential love.

Love.

Minho can’t help but wonder why your view of love is so negative when you’re in a relationship. And, at the same time, he doesn’t dare to think about it for too long, fully aware that his foolish affection-filled brain will come up with a myriad of reasons — all where your boyfriend is the sole culprit for your distaste — and Minho knows better than to let those thoughts linger for too long inside his mind. He knows himself all too well, knows only awful shit would come out of assuming things about your relationship; the urge to beat Hyunjin senseless for being a shitty boyfriend and making you think that way about love being the worst of them.

“I’m too drunk to go back to my dorm,” Jisung suddenly speaks, his eyes glazed over as he stares ahead. “Gonna crash here tonight, too.”

Minho takes that as his cue to leave.

You walk him outside, a small smile on your face the entire time. He feels guilty not being able to reciprocate the gesture. As you tell him goodbye, thanking him for coming, you pull him into a hug. You hadn’t hugged much since you met, and Minho foolishly wants to draw you closer to him, to feel your body pressed against his just as it was pressed against Hyunjin most of the night. But he can’t do that.

“Are you okay to walk back by yourself?” You ask him as you pull away.

Minho nods, forcing out a small smile. “My car is parked just down the block.”

“That’s why you didn’t drink!” You exclaim with a giggle, “I forget that most people our age already drive. My anxiety didn’t allow me the chance to even try and get a license, so I just accepted my fate of taking the bus.”

“I could drive you…” Minho trails off. There he goes again, being pathetic. “If I have the time… You can give me a call and I’d be happy to drive you anywhere.”

You smile at him, wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him into another embrace. Minho smiles genuinely as he buries his head in your hair.

The drive back home has Minho feeling stupid all over again as he thinks about how you’re probably in bed with Hyunjin by now. The whirlpool is back inside his chest, but it isn’t good or welcome this time. It’s agonizing and painful.

Love had never been painful. Love had never been bad.

But he had never experienced love toward someone who already loved somebody else. Although you brazenly state that you don’t believe in it, you must feel some type of love toward Hyunjin if you’re willing to be his girlfriend.

As he silently drives home, Minho finds himself agreeing with you.

Maybe love can be bad, after all.

Minho feels stupid.

This has become a constant in his life.

He had always thought of himself as a logical person. Programming had taught him that everything is predictable and fixable if you work on it hard enough. A broken code? It may take him six hours of staring at the computer to figure out it was nothing but a missing semicolon, but he will get there in the end. It was annoying and frustrating, but it was always something easily fixed.

He thought love was like that. It had always been like that with him.

Until he fell for you.

Minho was coming to terms with the fact that maybe love and programming were nothing alike. Love isn’t predictable. Loving someone who is already in love with someone else isn’t easily fixed. He can’t backspace and delete your boyfriend from the equation.

It’s been a little over six months since you two first met. Minho has consistently gone to the café you work at every day, and you two still had endless talks over text messages. You talk about everything and anything, from silly things like sharing pictures of both your growing plushie collections or your love of that particular coffee shop’s lemon cake to more serious topics like how Minho learned how to cook when he was twelve so his mom wouldn’t have to do it by herself, and now his roommates take advantage of that, or how sad you are that next year you will have to leave the house you’ve grown to love so much.

But, whether it is in person or through text, you still avoid the topic of love. You don’t ever bring up Hyunjin unless he’s part of a story you were already telling, and Minho feels his heart heavy as he slowly allows himself to imagine what it could be that led you to hate love so much.

He desperately wants to ask you, know your reasons, and make sure you’re happy with your boyfriend. But he doesn’t want to overstep any boundaries and doesn’t know how to go about it without scaring you. So he never does anything, like a coward.

Minho finds himself coming over to your sharehouse on most weekends since summer break ended. Your countless get-togethers at that house have become a hard-to-break habit. Hyunjin, Jisung, and your roommates are always assured to be there, with Chan joining whenever he isn’t overwhelmed with work or school, which was rare.

Minho had always been a hopeless romantic, always doing things for love that people repeatedly warned would result in regret. This time, it was forgoing visiting his parents and friends back home just to spend most of his summer with you. Despite not being able to pursue you in the way he truly wanted to, Minho still wanted to be your friend. You were still a fantastic person he loved to have around; that didn’t change simply because you had a boyfriend. Although he could feel a bit of his heart cracking every time he had to see you, all while knowing he couldn’t do anything about his feelings for you.

He couldn’t change your perspective of love if he weren’t allowed to love you.

In all the time he spent at your house during summer break, he ended up becoming good friends with Jisung, as you tended to stick next to Hyunjin most of the time. Minho didn’t mind it; he is your boyfriend, after all. At least, that’s what he repeats to himself every night he comes over like a mantra as he almost masochistically forces himself to watch how Hyunjin kisses your lips and caresses your skin or how you play with his hair and snuggle with him on the couch. He also endures the countless nights he’s left your house knowing all too well that Hyunjin would be spending the night with you in a way that Minho can only ever dream about.

Tonight, in particular, Hyunjin seemed to be all over you like bees on honey, buzzing around you everywhere you went, his hands never leaving your body as he pulled you closer to him every time you even slightly pulled away. Because god forbid your bodies not be touching in some way for even a split second. Before he knows it, Minho is downing his third bottle of beer of the night.

From where he’s sitting on the couch, Minho rolls his eyes as discreetly as he can while he watches Hyunjin pull you to sit on his lap on the floor as you all get ready to play a game of cards. He gnaws on his lower lip because he knows he’s being petty and borderline childish. You’re Hyunjin’s girlfriend. Of course he’s all over you, of course he wants to be close to you, of course he wants you on his lap. Minho concludes with a bitter chuckle that he is, indeed, pathetic when it comes to you.

He gulps down more of the awful-tasting cheap beer.

The night comes to a close after far too many rounds of Cards Against Humanity, with Jisung winning more than half of them. His ethics and morals fly out the window the moment the cards are handed to him, as he manages to create the most absurdly offensive phrases known to men every single time. Minho found himself groaning and yelling at the younger boy as the alcohol took over his system. He doesn’t know how much of it was simply his annoyance at Hyunjin clinging to you like a koala throughout the entire game disguised as competitiveness.

He doesn’t think he’d like to know either.

Like every night he comes over, Minho is the last person to go home. He has to call an Uber, far too buzzed to want to sit at a bus stop all alone at this time of night. He hadn’t even noticed how he kept downing his drinks until he felt the familiar buzz of inebriation wash over his body a while before the game ended. Although slamming his fist into the coffee table with a whine about how he had only been given lame cards should’ve been a sign.

As he waits outside your house by the fence, he suddenly hears the door shut behind him and your voice calling out to him. He smiles at the faint slur of your speech and the way you drag out the last syllable of his name like you always did when you were a bit drunk.

“I told you to wait for me!” You reprimand, opening the gate to stand next to him. “Look how lonely you look here all by yourself.”

Minho just shrugs with a smile, shaking his head. He did wait. He waited almost half an hour after announcing he should leave as you disappeared into your room with Hyunjin. He was still waiting, in fact, only mindlessly scrolling on his phone for the past ten minutes instead of finding a ride as he hoped you would come outside when you saw he wasn’t in the living room anymore.

You poke his shoulder, bringing his attention away from his phone to your smiling face.

“Tonight was fun, wasn’t it? Especially that last round when Hyunjin won after being tied with Jisung for the whole game,” you grinned, “Seeing Jisung make a whole damn case about how much better his card was really made my night. Think that’s the first time I’ve seen him act like a law student since I met him.”

Minho chuckles, bringing his attention back to his phone. Seeing your smile and how your eyes light up while you talk about something you like brought back the whirlpool inside his chest, which wasn’t a pleasant feeling any longer. It made him glum to think how a once beautiful feeling had turned into nothing but discomfort simply because he was lovelorn.

He hums. “You must be proud to have your boyfriend put an end to Jisung’s annoying winning streak.”

“What do you mean?”

Minho looks up from his phone, eyes wandering through your puzzled face. He furrows his brows for a second. Maybe you’re both drunker than he’d thought.

“I mean, it must’ve been nice to see Hyunjin win after Jisung basically made us all want to quit the game,” he explains, watching as your expression turns from confusion into shock before you let out a loud laugh.

Minho’s eyes widen, worried your laughter might wake up your neighbors. He gently shushes you, his arm grabbing your shoulder, but your smiling face only makes his lips stretch out into a grin. He suppresses a giggle as you catch your breath, shaking your head.

Minho smiles at you so fondly he’s certain he looks like an idiot. “What’s so funny?”

“Hyunjin isn’t my boyfriend,” you explain like it’s obvious. “We’re just friends. I thought you knew that.”

Minho only then realizes he had never once heard you refer to Hyunjin as a boyfriend, nor had any of the people around you. But his assumptions weren’t so ill-judged, either. You two acted like a couple. It wasn’t so absurd to assume that you were one.

He finds himself staring at your amused face for a few seconds before forcing himself to turn his attention back to his phone.

You acted like a couple, but you were just friends. Minho groaned mentally.

“So, you’re like friends with benefits?”

“Yeah… I don’t particularly believe in love anymore, Minho. I thought you knew that from our talk a while ago,” You chuckle, shifting on your feet. “Hyunjin is one of my best friends. We just hook up ‘cause it’s convenient.”

Minho hums, his fingers ghosting over his phone screen. “Sounds like you’re running away from love.”

He blinks a couple of times as he takes in his own words. He would have never said such a thing if it hadn’t been for the liquid courage flowing through his veins.

You shrug, moving to sit on the white bench just outside the house. “Well, yeah, that is what I’m doing. Love hasn’t been kind to me at all. I have no interest in going after it, only to be hurt again. It’s a movie I’ve watched before and I hated the ending every time.”

Minho bites the inside of his cheek, finally clicking the button to find a ride, his thumb pressing on his phone screen more forcefully than he intended. He felt angry. You didn’t deserve to settle for a friend with benefits due to convenience. Had you wanted to be in that situation, it was your every right to do so, but you were in it out of fear of being hurt.

He felt sad. He wished you didn’t equate your past experiences with love to everything it could be. Bad experiences in love were possible for everyone — even for him, who used to believe unwaveringly that love could never be hurtful — but that didn’t mean it was all there was to it. Minho desperately wanted to show you that. The good side of love, the side that made him put it above everything else in his life on so many occasions, the side that made him crave it even now when it hurt more than it felt good.

And, strangely, Minho felt relieved. It was a small percentage of the chart of current emotions he was experiencing, but prevalent nonetheless. He would be lying to himself if he didn’t admit that he felt happy Hyunjin wasn’t your boyfriend and, most importantly, that you weren’t stuck in an unhappy or toxic relationship, as he had so often feared.

His ride arrives, and he’s overcome with a wave of courage. Minho would much rather live with regret than with a constant ‘what if’.

Shoving his phone inside his pocket, he offers his hand to you, who looks up at him curiously from where you’re sitting on the bench before taking his hand. Minho pulls you to your feet and hugs you. With his hand on your waist, he pulls your body closer to him, finally holding you tightly the way he’s always wanted to do. He presses a kiss to your head, bringing his lips to your ear and whispering, “I’m gonna change your mind.”

He feels your body shake with a chuckle, but he only tightens his hold on you.

“What?”

“About love, I’m gonna change your mind,” He answers matter-of-factly, “You deserve to feel love without being afraid.”

Minho pulls back from the embrace just enough to see your face, and he’s surprised to find you smiling up at him. He smiles back.

“I will change your mind.”

Minho had just dropped you off at your house, ready to drive around aimlessly until he absolutely had to go back to his dorm, when Seungmin texted him.

Kim Seungmin: hey my sister’s engagement dinner is tonight Kim Seungmin: and i might have fucked up something in the code i was working on so now there’s a chance that you fish 100 rare fish at once 🤪 Kim Seungmin: pls pls do me a solid and fix it before chan sees it and kills me? Kim Seungmin: love you hyung 💚

Minho initially groaned at the messages, thinking of the many ways in which he could murder Seungmin and get away with it. But, ultimately, he didn’t want to go back to his dorm anyway, so he gladly turned his car around. If he was lucky, this would take hours and he would have a valid excuse to crash in Chan’s cramped living room.

He punches the code to the front door and his friend greets him with a puzzled expression.

“I forgot to do the, uh, troubleshooting for this week,” Minho blurts out. It’s the first lie he can come up with, and he hopes it’s convincing enough. Chan nods slowly. Seungmin might have saved him from having to endure his roommates on a Saturday night, but he still owes him.

“It’s all good,” Chan says with a sigh, “I’m most likely gonna pull an all-nighter designing these new characters. Anyway, how did you waste your time today?”

Minho has been taking you on what he likes to call Subtle Dates for a month now.

Chan affectionately calls them Waste of Time Dates.

Minho rolls his eyes, sitting down on his own desk. “We went to Han River and walked around till sundown, then watched the Banpo Bridge water show.”

Days like today were rare, so Minho was happy. Most weekends, it seemed as if the whole world was conspiring against anything he planned with you.

“Oh, how romantic of you,” Chan gasps, feigning amazement. “Did you at least kiss her this time?”

“You know I can’t just kiss her like that. I know she’d freak out if I tried to do anything romantic with her,” Minho taps his fingers on his desk, knowing he sounds ridiculous. But he has a plan. He just hopes this plan actually works out soon. “I don’t mind being patient.”

He hears Chan scoff. “So, you took her on another one-sided date and then drove her home so Hyunjin can fuck her?”

Minho’s fingers stop tapping on his desk, his hand coming down to slam on it before he can stop himself. He lets out a heavy sigh, and Chan mumbles an apology. But, the truth is, he knows his friend is right. Just last weekend, Minho dropped you off straight into Hyunjin’s arms, the younger boy waiting for you to come back in front of your house.

And Hyunjin wasn’t the only inconvenience that rendered it almost impossible for the two of you to spend time together. Minho had to cut most of your dates short due to Chan calling him about something urgent that only he could fix at work, or you canceled altogether because your roommate was upset and you didn’t have the heart to leave her alone like that. There were also times when Minho was too tired to even go out at all, like on the day of his birthday, which resulted in you coming over to Chan’s apartment and eating cheap takeout food with him and his two friends.

Minho found himself dealing with countless bumps in the road when it came to finding a way into your heart.

“I didn’t mean to say it like that,” Chan says hesitantly, “You clearly like her a lot.”

Minho repeatedly opens and closes the code he’s supposed to fix. He sighs. “I like her more than a lot, and I don’t even know when that happened.”

“I don’t want to see you get hurt,” His friend explains, his face disappearing behind his own computer screen. “I just can’t see what will change if you go on dates with her when she doesn’t even know they’re dates and if she’s just gonna go home and have sex with someone else. I don’t get it. What difference does it make?”

He can hear Chan scoffing, although he tries to disguise it by clearing his throat. Minho shakes his head.

“It makes all the difference because that’s not love. I wanna show her what love is, and that it isn’t always bad. I promised her that I would.”

Chan sighs, sliding his chair toward the mini-fridge by the couch. “Agree to disagree?” He asks, grabbing a bottle of water and tossing it in Minho’s direction. He grabs it mid-air, just before it hits him in the face, and clicks his tongue.

“Agree to disagree.”

Minho plugs his headphones into the computer, drowning out the noise of Chan’s pen sliding across his iPad with his brown noise playlist. But he can’t drown out the obstinate thought ringing inside his head, screaming at him that Chan is right.

Taking you out on dates — which you don’t even know are dates — doesn’t really make a difference if you’re just going to go back to your convenience with Hyunjin at the end of the day. If you think you’re just friends going out together, and you go back home at night to the comfort of sex without the love you’ve been running away from for so long, what Minho is doing truly is useless. 

It’s just like when he argues with Seungmin through their codes, screaming at the younger boy in all caps about something that’s broken, even though he knows he’s going to be the one who will end up having to fix it.

Minho’s fingers come to a halt on the keyboard.

Closing his work, he opens up Google and finds the first flight he can to Japan. Almost as if he’s on autopilot, and his brain is completely shut off. He books the flight and the cheapest hotel he can find, using almost all the money he’s saved up to move out of his hell of a dorm. It might be the most idiotic thing he has ever done in his life, but he’s so in love it hurts him. And he loves love, and love with you — the thought of that alone has his heart beating at his throat. He doesn’t want to keep on with these futile attempts at trying to make you see that love is good and that, maybe, love can be good with him.

The truth is, he feels scared. Maybe even more scared than you do. He is terrified of knowing the answer, of finding out that maybe he could change your mind about love but that it would simply lead you to someone else’s arms and he would have to endure the pain of unrequited love until it inevitably faded away with time.

Minho would gladly live with that pain if it meant you were happy.

But he needed to know.

He adjusted his glasses — a childhood nervous habit that returned after he started wearing them more often since you complimented him months ago — and retrieved his phone from his backpack.

He typed and deleted more times than he’d like to admit.

Me: Hey, it’s late sorry  Me: Just wanted to know if you’d be up for a trip to Japan? Me: In two weeks Me: For study purposes Me: We’d finally have the chance to use what we learned in class lol Me: Chan was supposed to go with me but he has a family thing so he can’t anymore Me: Everything’s already paid for and he said he doesn’t mind if you go in his place Me: Lmk what you think

Minho’s fingers typed as his brain came up with excuses and lies, sending more messages than he needed to. He couldn’t tell you he booked a whole damn trip with you just to see if maybe, possibly, you have feelings for him too.

He all but throws his phone across his table after turning on Do Not Disturb. He’ll need to muster up the courage before reading your answer, and having his phone buzz for anything that wasn’t your reply would just be torturous. He felt stupid, would feel even more so if you turned down his invitation. He almost doesn’t want you to answer, wants to pretend he never even sent anything.

Because it was stupid.

But love is stupid, and he is in love.

Worst-case scenario, he’s stuck with Chan in Japan for a weekend while he laughs at him.

Best-case scenario, he spends a weekend with you in Japan. No letting you go back to another man at the end of the day, no more hiding that he is taking you out on dates, no more distractions, no more inconveniences of your daily lives.

Minho opens the code he was working on again, quickly typing out:

// NOTE: Minho will fix this.

#stray kids #stray kids fic #skz smut #skz x reader #stray kids x reader #skz fic #lee know fluff #lee know #lee know smut #lee know scenarios #stray kids x you #skz #fanfic #lee know x reader #lee know x you #lee know imagines #lee minho #lee minho x reader #lee minho x you #stray kids scenarios #stray kids smut

[ms-demeanor]

since twitter has become actively hostile to its users, so they came to tumblr, and reddit has become actively hostile to its users, so they came to tumblr, what do we do now that tumblr is becoming (more) actively hostile to its users? i’ve been here for over a decade so i know tumblr users are the type to cling on despite everything and revel in undoing every change, but i’m so tired of the way this website breaks the way it fundamentally works in order to appeal to new users. the twitterfication of the site seems so much worse than when people jumped ship after the porn ban, and even then, only small communities (and twitter) cropped up as solutions. you might not be the person to ask for a definitive answer, but i figured a tech blog might be interested in considering - what do we do when there’s nowhere left to go?

Okay so, I mean this very seriously: how has tumblr meaningfully become like twitter?

I don't personally find the sidebar view obnoxious and it seems to me like just another layout change that's pretty typical to tumblr. New users are getting signed up with a bit more emphasis on algorithmic feeds, but that is still very easy to change (MUCH easier than on any other social platform) and the algorithm has been there for everyone for quite a while, we just typically don't notice it because a lot of long-term tumblr users don't go into the "for you" feed.

I don't think that tumblr *has* fundamentally broken the way that it works to appeal to new users. My dash now is still very much like my dash in 2019, and still very much like my dash in 2018 (though much less pornographic). Reblogs are still reblogs, likes are still likes. Replies, for all that they seem like they've been around forever, are new and good and I think they work well. I'm irritated that the notes menu doesn't have a "view all" option but I think that's a worthwhile tradeoff for an easy way to see tags.

I *do not* understand why tumblr has broken linking back to previous reblogs but I don't think that's out of an effort to act like twitter; it is a bizarre choice that I dislike and don't understand but I also don't think that it has fundamentally changed the way the site works and i mean you've been around long enough that I'm sure you've had the same experience I have of going into the notes of a post and randomly clicking until you found a version that you wanted to reblog without a bunch of bullshit at the bottom. Tumblr has always kind of sucked, this change DOES suck but it doesn't suck in a way that is particularly novel or insurmountable. (For instance, I think this change sucks MUCH LESS than when they made posts with links invisible to the search, that is something that is genuinely bad that has been long lasting but doesn't get brought up much in lists of the ways that tumblr has gone wrong)

Tumblr *is* changing, but I think it is changing more incrementally and less terribly than other parts of the internet. I also hate the floating clown, the login walls, the dash-only view for blogs (you can't archive it and I HATE that), and - to an extent - the new lightbox on mobile. And I dislike that less than I thought I would but I don't think it's a fundamental change that necessarily impacts my interactions with the site - it *adds* a feature that I don't care for but it doesn't *break* anything that I require to have a good time on tumblr - in that way I think of it very much like Live. People hate Live so much and I find that perplexing because it is so easy to simply ignore it.

But that's not really your question; that's just some stuff I want people to think about because as much as tumblr has changed in the last two years it is nowhere near as fucked up as the recent things that twitter and reddit have pulled.

So, as to your question: where do we go?

Well. Not to be an extremely old person on the internet, but damned if I don't miss email lists. And forums. God I miss forums. Neither of those things has all the bonuses of platforms like twitter or reddit or tumblr or facebook, but they were great ways to hang out with people you liked on the internet.

The internet is changing. I can feel it, you can feel it, I'm pretty sure we're all like cattle in a field lifting our noses and hearing some distant rumbling and becoming slowly aware that it's almost time to run. There's a coming stampede and it isn't here yet but you know it's on its way. You're not imagining that, that's how things feel right now and there are a shitload of things contributing to it.

Things like SESTA/FOSTA and KOSA (which has not passed yet but is a big red flag waving on the horizon) have been eroding away the way that users on various platforms can function. Some platforms have consolidated in ways that harm users; some new platforms have popped up and shaken up the map of the internet; some platforms are being torn apart brick by brick by owners who don't care about the users. It kind of seems like people are actually looking up and realizing that advertising is A) bad and B) doesn't actually work and I think we're running straight toward another advertising-based crash like we saw in 2017. It feels like all the desperate things that tumblr is doing is just rearranging deck chairs on the titanic as the internet as a whole starts to sink into the ocean.

Honestly, I don't think it's that bad. I think it *feels* bad, but I think we're looking at a slow whimpering death of the platforms, not a bang. I think tumblr is going to hang on at least for a few years and I think it's going to end up like livejournal and myspace, which both still exist as websites that are recognizable as updated versions of the sites they were in 2004-2010. The thing that I think would really, honestly hurt tumblr in a fundamental way is if it moved to a more algorithmic and data-sales based model of advertising, and I think that's still pretty distant. I think Automattic is aware that killing the chronological feed would be the one unforgivable sin that would cause a mass exodus and a final crash, and I think when we see that, when we can't just scroll through the feed and see what our friends did that day in order of when they did it, that's when the party is over here.

But that's still not answering your question.

So, where do we go? What do we do? Well, for now, I'd say it's a good time to get contact info for your friends across various platforms. Get email addresses, get phone numbers.

Now is also the time for you to set up a personal website. NeoCities is currently the best place to do this, though it takes a lot more effort than just starting a blog on tumblr. I think that various oldschool blogging sites like Wordpress and Blogger/Blogspot/whatever the hell the google one is are a better place to have your emergency backup than a more platform-y platform if you aren't up to doing something with NeoCities.

If you've got the ability to do so and a group of people who are interested in the same core subject, set up a forum. There's a decent amount of off-the-shelf forum software out there and a text-and-small-images forum isn't prohibitively expensive, but it's never going to be huge and you're never going to have the kind of spread and virality and random connections that you would on a platform with millions or billions of users.

If you can't set up a forum, setting up or joining a discord server for your friends is a decent enough option at the moment, and may be a very good option for people who are looking to keep their interactions more private.

But yeah i think right now is a great time for people to start setting up their own personal websites, to start visiting actual webpages again, to start bookmarking their friends' websites, and to start collecting contact info that isn't tied to platforms.

[fromorigintofinality]

i dont post on here a ton but i gotta say the growing attitude on tumblr that voting in the US is somehow useless is really concerning.

just recently i saw this post that was basically making fun of people saying that voting was the way to change the system, and that's just.. wrong? like seriously, how do you think roe v. wade got overturned? its because despite everything, republicans are smart voters and now how to play the long game.

but leftists as of late have lost that quality i feel. instead of advocating for people to vote, they advocate for some "revolution" they think will solve everything. among the people in the post mentioned earlier being glorified as revolutionaries were mao zedong and stalin, and when asked why the poster was glorifying these horrific figures, they said, "yes. Mao freed my family and stalin defeated the fascists. Get with the program sugar"

do you notice anything about that? do you notice how it sounds like the way a child describes the world? "stalin defeated the fascists" like he's some hero who defeated the evil horde of thieves? the way things like the red guard, struggle sessions, all of that, are completely ignored on the side of Mao? how this person, despite having a trans flag in their pfp, is ignoring how the utterly homophobic state of the Chinese government at present is the fault of Mao? how they ignore horrific things such as the Gulag on side of Stalin? this person cannot think, and the only way they believe that the world can move forward is a revolution, and revolution's don't work when the people advocating for them do nothing.

maybe one could argue that this was just a one off type of thing, and that all of the thousands of people liking and reblogging this post are just weirdos. but whether or not thats true, this growing sentiment of praying to a revolution that will never come is indeed growing. and its not just like these people stay in their lane, they actively encourage and probably will cause people to not vote.

so i want to remind everybody. elections are not a moral choice. joe biden is complicit and actively funding a genocide, but not voting for him, third party or not (if you still think third parties are viable please look into the history behind them), will make it more likely that trump will win, and that things in palestine and other things that joe biden has failed in will get 1000x worse. candidates in elections are a bus stop to the real goal, and treating them as such is smart voting, republicans proved this with the overturning of roe v. wade.

please do not be selfish. this last bit may seem out of nowhere, but i need to say this. this type of thinking is selfish. it is selfish and almost impossible to detect as such for the people who believe in it. if you are the type of person who believes in this style of thinking, you have created a completely arbitrary moral code, and care more about your conscience than real political change. you believe yourself to have completely good morals that are universally good, and for the consequences of following these morals, you don't consider the real change that will occur, just your conscience and peace of mind. as for what happens because of that moral code, you will always find a way around looking inwards to how you contributed.

this election season may be the most important yet, please learn to take the practical route instead of the "pure" route.

#free palestine #palestine #israel #gaza #free gaza #israel palestine conflict #tw war #tw violence #tw war crimes #current events #us politics #us presidential election #voting #socialist revolution #anarchy #anarchism #leftism #socialist #revolution #vote #us elections #please vote #american politics #communist revolution #genocide #from the river to the sea palestine will be free #ceasefire

[thecynthh]

how about we try that one more time? M.S

synopsis - matt wouldn't stop biting his nails and y/n gotta do something about it

notes - fully matts pov, childhood best friends, just kissiing nothing too mild,

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Matt's pov

i recently became more active on tiktok like nick requested me to be, despite not really knowing how to use the app i started to post next to daily as well as chris and nick. tiktoks of us just jamming out to songs always goes well so i started a little series showing the fans a new song from my playlist every two days while in between those i post whatever im feeling. 

today was the song locked out of heaven by bruno mars

“can i just stay here?”

“spend the rest of my days here”

“cus’ you make me feel like i’ve been locked out of heaven”

i look into my bathroom mirror singing along with the song, doing a little dance when the drums kick in again hearing the crash of the symbols. i’d admit, i thought i looked pretty good, my fit was on point that day and i was really feeling myself. 

sturnl00v3 : matty poo lookin a little too good today 

heartzplusstarz : struggling as a chris girl over here 😔

bernardluvver : living for the slutty waist !!

the whole tiktok replays again for the third time, after hearing it again y/n props herself up on her elbows and says, “god how many times are you gonna watch yourself in that tiktok??” y/n was usually this mean to me but growing up together as neighbors and knowing her all these years made me forgive her for all of it, she was there with me and my brothers throughout everything and we were all used to her “can do” attitude.

her legs were draped over my thighs and her eyes watched my phone intensively. “do you still wanna get kane’s later or do you wanna complain?” I retorted, making her drop back down onto the couch and hold her hands up. “i surrender.” 

i go back to scrolling through the comments seeing a few more. 

sturnz : damnnnn mans looking fine asf 

bluesturniolo : ANYTHING FOR U MATT !!!!

sturnontop : yalls see the outline…..

      ╰┈➤ bluesturniolo : i just know what’s behind his cargos 🤤

lessasturniolo : F ME LIKE U MAD AT ME BABYYYYY 

oh. oh. 

is that really all that they think about me? a shiver rolls through my body and my hand comes up to my mouth as i chew on my nails. a foot hits my hand out of my mouth, i give y/n the nastiest side eye while she looks at me like she didn’t do anything. 

“what the fuck was that for?” i raise my voice slightly. 

“don’t bite your nails you stupid fuck,” she says as a come back, i was unphased when she matched my tone. i ultimately just let it go and continued looking through comments. 

sturnnw0rld : girlies on tumblr gna go insane for this one matt

user92380 : id hit that. 

likelystrniolo : fuck me! please! 

despite what y/n said to me i continue to bite my nails, i didnt enjoy biting them but i couldnt help it. especially with these comments, they make me nervous and uncomfortable. with seconds of actually contemplating, my finger hovers over the delete button. 

suddenly i feel y/n’s body move and she begins to straddle me, uh oh. i stare up at her not knowing what her next move is, she rips my nails out of my mouth and connects our lips. 

i go along with her antics and reciprocate the kiss, she bites down on my bottom lip requesting access to the inside of my mouth. her hands find my arms and wraps them around her body with her arms snaking around my neck, pulling us impossibly close together. 

i put my hands on her cheeks slightly pushing her off of my mouth, our needy mouths disconnected. she gives an exasperated sigh and starts to open her mouth, “nick told me to make sure you weren’t biting your nails cus u guys had a nail appointment, that was the only way i could think about stopping you.” an innocent smile paints her face. 

“if i knew biting my nails could make you wanna kiss me i would be doing it more.” i saw when the same stupid smile bloomed on my lips as well. “so, how about we try that one more time before i start biting my nails again yeah?” 

a/n - christmas/new years present for yalls 😘

#sturniolo triplets #matt sturniolo #sturniolo fanfic #sturniolo smut #sturniolo x reader #matt sturniolo x you #syn speaks #matthew sturniolo

[atlasofthestaars]

[MK X READER] New Era - Chapter .007

first part | previous part | next part

NOTE:  Lots of fluff this time, hope you enjoyed! I uh, hurried to get this out before my work LMAO

Time for yet another poll this time about Kitana! These should be stopping soon, but I want to cram these all in before the Outworld Tourney arc so I can plan it out properly! 

As usual leave your thoughts, and I will be taking them into consideration up until a week after this chapter, aka when the tumblr poll ends.

About three chapters left of original content before rejoining with the main plot! I don’t think there are many other characters that people are interested in polling for after Kitana and Havik, but just know that chapter 10 is probably the last time I will accepting asks for love interests since by then I do want to cement how the characters will interact with the reader before we head off to Outworld.

FROM THE EYES OF ONE WHO GETS A LITTLE CLOSER WITH OTHERS

Turns out that movie night is what you needed.

It didn’t fix all your problems, certainly not. If only it did. You still struggle with sleeping still. You aren’t certain how you were able to fall asleep so easily in that room, but you weren’t able to fall asleep quite as nicely afterwards.

You still worry and struggle to relax, and you weren’t certain if you were going to ever find a permanent solution to that. But you were inspired by Johnny to take up more activities to help loosen up more. You began to cook more, trying to chase the perfection that was Madam Bo’s cooking from the recipes that she had taught you. 

You ended up cooking more than you often needed, and outside of meal times, you were often too embarrassed to ask Liu Kang to help eat the food. You weren’t even certain if the fire god even enjoyed eating, or ate to simply accompany you so you did not eat alone. You always wondered that, but found it to be too awkward of a question to ask. Plus, he seemed happy enough to eat your cooking.

Nevertheless, you had a surplus of food that you could not throw away, so you thought of a different solution.

“You don’t have to give me this.” Kenshi said, a look of confusion on his face as you handed him a neatly packed box of food. It was still warm and you could faintly smell the goodness that was inside. Despite his words, you held it out to him insistently to the point where he took the food into his hands, a confused look on his face. 

“No, no I insist!” You say, brushing it off. “I’ve recently taken up cooking as a hobby again, so I’ve been cooking more than I usually do.” You explained, crossing your arms so the man could not hand back the food you had given him. “I don’t want food to go to waste, so I insist, really. Plus, I figured you’d be someone who would help critique me on what I need to improve.”

“Wouldn’t Kung Lao be better for this?” Kenshi inquired, though he did not look as against the situation as he originally did. He lifted the box up slightly, trying to examine the pristine way you had wrapped and packed the food. “He’s the one who likes food the best out of all of us.”

“He enjoys any food, he’d just eat it and compliment me to see if he could get more.” You pointed out, having thought this out. “Raiden would be too nice, he’d say I tried hard on it even if it was horribly seasoned and burnt. Johnny might have been a good choice, but I also think he might take me giving him food the wrong way.”

“I see.” The swordsman said, taking another look over the packaged food another time. You felt proud of yourself for how neatly you had done it. He paused, before sending you a small smile, and you mentally pat yourself on the back. “Thank you then, I’ll make sure to give you a thorough review of it.” 

“Good, because there will be plenty more where that came from.” You said confidently as you quickly shooed him off. “Now go back to training.” You nagged him. “And let me get out of here before Johnny Cage makes fun of me for being here on my off time again.” You whispered, scanning the area for the actor. 

You quickly left, leaving Kenshi standing there with a slightly stupefied expression. He glanced down at the box, a small smile on his lips. 

When was the last time he had tasted a home cooked meal made with care?

Sneaking a peek around the area, his curiosity tempted him too hard. He pulled at the packaging you put thought into, and opened the lid. It looked like the definition of made with love. He grabbed the utensils you had given him, and took a bit of the food, too curious about it.

It tasted amazing.

“You’re free to do whatever, just don’t kick their asses too hard.” 

It was a month after your short break, and despite your visit to the Lin Kuei temple a long while ago, it was only until now that Smoke could make time to help out your group. 

You shot the gray haired man a grin as you walked down the halls with the man. He let out a chuckle at your instruction, raising an eyebrow. The man seemed confident, probably due to you hyping him up for this day. You knew he would provide just the perfect challenge.

“Let me give you the rundown.” You said as you continued to guide him. “Kung Lao, you remember him, is doing great. He does have a bit of an ego though, so feel free to knock him down a peg. Raiden, the other person from the exam, is also doing well, but don’t let his innocent looking face take you off guard. Feel free to also go a bit harder on him, he needs the push.”

“It sounds like you want me to beat up your students rather than test them.” Tomas pointed out an amused tone in his voice as he glanced over to you. He was very expressive with his eyes, which was a trait you were thankful for since he was wearing his mask today for training. 

“Isn’t that the Lin Kuei way?” You teased before sighing as you put a hand on your left rib cage. “It’s been years, and I swear Bi-Han left a permanent bruise from his intensity.” You huffed. “Anyways, for the other two, let’s see…” You paused, thinking of what to say. “Johnny has a flashy way of fighting, don’t let the look of his fighting deter you, no matter how impractical it may look, he can still land a solid punch.” You let out another scoff. “Also, don’t let his words, whether positive or negative, take you off guard, he’s a real charmer.”

“What do you mean?”

“He’s an actor, he has a way with words. He might try to butter you up so you’ll go easy on him. Or try to cast you in his movies.” You informed him, remembering back to the first time Johnny had tried to get you to join his movies after the tournament. “You’ll see what I mean.”

“Duly noted.” Smoke nodded, but you had a sense that you probably made him more curious rather than cautious. You watched as he subconsciously spun the karambit he fought with on his finger, doing tricks with it absentmindedly.

“Anyways, Kenshi has some more…practical practice with fighting, so he’s also a threat to look for.” You continued, purposefully being vague with Kenshi’s past for the sake of his privacy. “He fights with a katana, so I suppose you’ll be out ranged.” You pointed out, gesturing to the much shorter dagger he wielded.

“Don’t worry, I’ll find a way to close the gap.” The Lin Kuei man said, with a tone of confidence in his words. You smiled, remembering your old spars with him. He was always tricky to fight against, being able to easily slip in a fight to get right where he wanted. “Any other advice you have for me?”

“Nope, like I said, you’re pretty much free to do what you want.” You said with a small shrug. “They’ll learn a lot from fighting you.” 

The two of you made your way to the courtyard, where the group was gathered. They were waiting, and you could tell that it had probably only been a few minutes since the last master had been training with them.

“Gentlemen, I present with you today, a different person to spar.” You greeted as you rounded the corner with Smoke in tow. You gestured to your friend, a smile on your lips. “This is Tomas, otherwise known as Smoke. He’s from the Lin Kuei. and I chose him to help train you today.”

“Lin Kuei? Like the ones who broke my Hichuli?” Johnny asked, as he looked towards Smoke. He observed him for a moment before pointing at him. “Nice mask, by the way.” He commented before looking towards you again.

From the corner of your eye, you watched as Smoke was surprised by Johnny’s compliment.

“I remember you from the test.” Kung Lao said, walking up to take a closer look at the guest. He sized him up and down, crossing his arms as he did so. “We’re better trained now.” He declared, referring to Raiden and himself with confidence, “We can take you on without you pulling your punches.”

“Be careful what you wish for, Kung Lao.” You warned, sending him a look. “You may have been progressing very well with your training, but Tomas here is still a trained hunter, you know.” You gestured towards the gray clad man who took your praise well, but there was a hint of bashfulness you could glean from his face. 

“It is an honor to have you with us here, today.” Raiden spoke, bowing towards Smoke with utmost respect. You smiled, pleased at the respect he displayed. You could always rely on him to be modest. You watched as Kenshi also nodded in his direction. 

“Kung Lao, since you’re so confident, go ahead and step right up first.” You instructed, nodding towards Smoke who stepped forward to take the challenge. You crossed your arms and observed, feeling satisfied as you were proven right that Smoke provided just the right amount of challenge. He could do what the rest of you could not: attack from all sorts of angles with his teleportation techniques.

As Smoke finally knocked over the farmer, you strode over. You held a hand out for the man.

“Good job.” You praised both of the men. You gripped Kung Lao’s hand firmly as he grabbed yours, hoisting him up. You felt Kung Lao squeeze your hand briefly before releasing it, and you mentally noted how his hand felt with the callouses.

“You’ve improved since the exam.” Smoke added in, brushing himself off too. Even though Kung Lao had been ultimately beaten, you could see that he had still given the Lin Kuei member a run for his money at times. 

“Thank you.” Kung Lao said, seeming to have been humbled a bit more. An enthusiastic look appeared on his face as he tilted his head towards the two of you. “Soon enough I’ll be able to beat you though.” He said with confidence. “Especially when I get my hat.” He said, his tone dripping with excitement as he glanced at you before walking off to the side to rest up.

“A story for another time.” You said as Smoke sent you a curious look. “Kenshi!” You called the previous gang member up, and stepped back to observe the fight from the sidelines. You had your students rotate through, each of them fighting Smoke one on one. After the last match, you called for a break, letting them catch their breaths, especially Smoke who had been fighting all this time.

“You’re really making me work.” Smoke commented lightly as he took the water you handed him. 

“Just as you did when I helped you.” You reminded him, remembering how many Lin Kuei recruits he had made you spar on that day when you visited the temple. “Don’t think I forgot.” You teased as you brushed past him, purposely bumping into his shoulder in a playful manner. You felt his stare on you as you walked away to go talk to your students.

You approached all of them, giving tips to them, explaining what they could improve when they were called up to fight Smoke for another round. You smiled as you watched them absorb the information. Soon, you sent them all back to fight the Lin Kuei member once more.

“Alright, you’re all dismissed.” You declared as Kung Lao finished his round, you chose for him to go last this time since he went first the first round. You clapped your hands, and they nodded as they dispersed. You watched as both Kenshi and Smoke approached you, only for Johnny to distract the Lin Kuei member and whisk him away.

You’d have to make sure that the actor wasn’t roping the poor man into anything later.

“What’s up?” You inquired as the swordsman approached, but you had an inkling of an idea of what it was about, after all you’ve been hearing his food critiques for about a month now.

“The food today was great, as usual.” Kenshi informed you with a soft smile. He had certainly warmed up to you much more ever since your food gifting had begun. “I did notice though that…” And he went off on a small talk about your food, giving you helpful criticisms as usual. He was always honest, and seemed to put great thought into his reviews, which you dearly appreciated.

It felt all too familiar, and you felt nostalgia pull at your heart. While you didn’t have too many memories of Kenshi in your past life, you had enough to remember that he must have been a close confidant. Why else would you care so much about his opinions?

“I’ll be sure to do that next time.” You said, but your mind drifted off. While you had been cooking mainly Chinese cuisine, you briefly considered trying out Japanese cuisine for Kenshi. You opened your mouth to ask for his favorite food, but considered against it.

Maybe you can surprise him instead.

You think you remembered what you believed was his favorite food from the hazy memories that you had sorted through. You made a mental note to visit Madam Bo soon to try to ask for some advice for cooking it. After all, she was the best chef you knew.

You watched with a silent pride as the man walked off after giving you his short food review. You felt a presence approaching you, and you turned to see Tomas approaching with raised eyebrows. You returned his confused expression.

“You feed your students?” He asked, a tone of curiosity…and another emotion you couldn’t quite place. You let out a small laugh as you nodded.

“You overheard?” You asked, but you knew already that he must have if he was asking about it. You placed a hand on your hip. “I do, but just to Kenshi. I’ve been practicing the recipes that Madam Bo taught me, and I usually make too much and give some to him. He helps me out by critiquing them.”

“I see.” Smoke said, nodding. He paused for a moment, a look of consideration crossing his face. “All these years of knowing you, and I don’t think I’ve tried your cooking, I’m hurt.” He said, his voice taking a teasing tone at the end. You scoffed and rolled your eyes to match his playful energy.

“It’s nothing special, if you want real good food, you should try Madam Bo’s, she’s the real master.” You said, moving to cross your arms. “But now that you’ve mentioned it, you’re right. I haven’t cooked for you before.” You paused and considered something. “Maybe one day I should.”

“I’d like that.” Tomas said, his eyes crinkling at the edges as you assumed he smiled at you. You returned the smile.

“I’ll make plans for it, then.” You said, trying to think of an appropriate time to cook for him…or maybe you should invite the other Lin Kuei ninjas too. You began to calculate in your head some plans. It was only until you saw Smoke extend his pinky in front of your face that your train of thought was derailed. “A pink promise?” You inquire with a mock offended tone, “What, you don’t trust me?”

“I do, I just want an excuse to hold it over you in case you forget.” Tomas said. letting out a small laugh. You sighed dramatically as you rolled your eyes. Nevertheless, you extended your pinky and hooked it around his, playing along.

It was a little silly, but seeing the promise between you was a bit charming. A small delightful tingle was left on your skin where it had made contact with his as your pinkies unraveled from his. You wondered briefly if it was a side effect of his power, but didn’t try to question it too much, just savoring how it felt.

“I’ll hold you to your word, then.”

“The first prototype of Kung Lao’s hat is here.” 

Turning around, you saw Liu Kang approach as he carried a small box. You approached him, grabbing the box from his hands. It was lighter than you expected, and walked over to set it down on a table so you could inspect it properly.

It took longer than you were expecting to get this first prototype. Another month had passed between when you had Smoke help you and now. The days seemed to be passing quickly, and the months leading to the Outworld tournament were dwindling slowly.

You weren’t certain to be nervous about the time to train these men were quickly running out, or to be excited that soon you were going to finally visit Outworld.

“Interesting.” You remarked as you held up the razor sharp ring of metal up from out of the box. It seemed it was the main blade that was supposed to attach to the edge of the hat. For now, it was still unattached. You were careful as you traced the edge of the blade, but hissed as you accidentally cut yourself on it. “Sharper than it looks.”

“Indeed.” Liu Kang said. you saw a crease of worry appear on his face as he noticed the look of pain on your face. You set down the blade, going to go inspect your finger where it had cut you. You squinted down, seeing a bead of blood beginning to form. It was a bigger cut than you were ready for, it extended to two of the joints of your pointer finger.

Carefully, the fire god grabbed your hand. You blinked owlishly as he carefully lifted up your hand to inspect it, not knowing what to exactly say or do. He let out a small hum as he noticed the small amount of blood. As if he were touching something delicate, he wiped away the blood with his thumb.

His touch was always so gentle, so warm.

“You carry a medical kit with you, yes?” The protector of Earthrealm inquired. You nodded, not noticing how you were spaced out. You reached around to grab it out of your pocket. You handed it to him, feeling a bit touched he remembered that fact about you. 

Liu Kang took it from you, and you watched as he carefully took the supplies out of the pack. He carefully made sure to clean the blood away before he spread some petroleum jelly on your skin. You tried not to flinch at the contrast of the cold jelly and his warm skin. Then, he carefully wrapped your finger up with a band aid.

“Thank you.” You quickly said, briefly stupefied at the actions of the god. You could have cleaned and mended your cut yourself, and yet you found yourself not wanting to mention that fact to him. Maybe he just thought it was easier for him to patch your wounds for you. There was no reason to overthink things, the fire god was just as friendly to you as he is to everyone else.

Surely.

“No problem.” Liu Kang replied warmly as he packed up your medical pack and handed it back to you. You swallowed as you took it back, tucking the pack back into one of your pockets. You avoided his glowing eyes as you picked up the box.

“It’s time to deliver this to Kung Lao.” You announced, before walking briskly off. You tried not to think about why you were all of a sudden feeling tongue tied over such a small gesture. You ignored how you felt his stare linger on you for maybe a little too long as you walked off.

You were overthinking things lately, honestly.

“This looks better than I envisioned!” Kung Lao marveled as he looked over the blade you were presenting to him. You basked in the beam he sent your way, and you felt a sense of satisfaction wash over you as you were watching the man’s dream come to life before your very eyes. 

And you were the cause of it.

“I think it looks good too.” You remarked. You instinctively pulled the blade away as Kung Lao tried to touch the edge. You had been reminded of what happened earlier, and ignored how your face wanted to warm up at the memory. “Be careful, the blade is sharper than it looks.” You warn. You hesitate for a moment, before gently handing it to him.

You probably shouldn’t be as cautious as you were being. He was going to wield this razor hat one way or another. You watched with bated breath as he took it from you. Your nerves turned to pride as you watched him inspect it, flipping it over as he murmured to himself.

It felt right, watching him with the blade. Why were you so worried in the first place?

“Oh, and here’s the hat, compare it to the blade to see if you like the fit.” You remarked as you stooped down to pick it up. You heard the sound of metal falling as you lifted the hat up. You looked down, puzzled, as you knelt down to inspect it.

It was a small piece of metal. It had no marks, but it was too small to be any piece of a blade. Was this a piece of scrap metal? You chose not to question it, grabbing it as you stood up. You handed the hat to him, along with the piece of metal.

“Here’s the hat.” You started, before gesturing to the small piece of metal. “Not sure what this is for, but this was also in there too.” You said, shrugging. You watched as he gladly took the hat. There was a look of recognition that appeared on his face as he saw the piece of metal in your hand. He quickly snatched it out of your hand before tucking it away in a pocket.

Odd, but it wasn’t suspicious enough to question him. Or at least, you weren’t bothered enough to.

“Thanks!” He said. You watched as he put the blade along the edge of the hat. Carefully, he put the hat on, holding the blade to the edge with his hands. He tilted the hat down, masking the fact that he had to hold the blade and the hat together by striking a pose. “How do I look?”

A wave of nostalgia washed over you as you looked at the pose. You don’t remember when was the last time you had been hit with it this strongly. You were speechless as you looked at him. You knew he wanted to make a hat with multiple blades, but something about a simple blade hat felt right.

Maybe you should try and make him a different version of this hat, one that felt closer to the memories you had. 

A small memory of teasing and laughing with a much cockier version of Kung Lao filled your mind as you looked fondly at the man. You sucked in a breath as you nodded.

“You look great.” You complimented, and you truly meant it. “The hat really suits you, I can’t wait to see how it’ll look when it’s finished.” You watched as a grin grew on Kung Lao’s face, and you spotted a bit of pink on his cheeks. He seemed to absorb the praise well, and for a moment you almost reconsidered taking back the compliment. It was clearly letting it inflate his ego.

Then again, it made him happy, so you said nothing to rain on his parade.

“Of course I do.” Kung Lao said smugly as he took the hat off. He looked at it again, the same way you would think a father would look at their own kid. You held back a chuckle. He was really enthusiastic about this hat, wasn’t he?

“You can mess with it for a while, whether it be practicing with the blade or making notes for the blacksmith.” You informed him. “I’ll be taking it back with the box whenever you are ready to return it to get it worked on again.” 

“Got it.” He nodded. “Thanks for this, again.” You watched as the Fengjian farmhand took one last look at the hat before stowing again in the box and running off. Whether it was to test out the blade or to make design notes, you weren’t sure. 

Either way, you felt happy.

“You’ve improved a lot.” You remark as you watch Raiden run through a combination again. He was a far cry from the man you remembered from the beginning. You looked up at the stars, reflecting back to those days with a wistful look.

Time was passing by fast, and you were reminded of that as you noted how much more confident Raiden seemed in his strikes. You crossed your arms as you fixed the man with a stare, watching him take pause after he finished the combination.

“Really?” He asked, a small smile on his face. He had an almost shy look on his face as he turned to look at you. You nodded in response, and he stood there for a moment before looking away. “How so?” He asked, a curious look on his face.

“Well, for one, you’re not making as many mistakes anymore.” You pointed out, holding back a small chuckle. “Actually, do that combination again.” You said, finding it ironic that you were probably going to have to take back the praise you had just given him,

You watched him as he did the combination again, and noticed the error in his form. You couldn’t help the laugh that left your lips. The irony of it all.

“Okay, poor timing.” You remarked. You tried instructing him on how to correct him form, but watched as he kept on missing the critical error. You felt a bit bad, maybe it was because you had just been mentioning how he had been improving and now he was a bit psyched out. You walked up to him. “Here, you need to land like this.”

Gently, you grabbed his arms and moved them into the proper position. You twisted his hands to face the right way. Then, you nudged his legs apart to make sure they were spaced apart properly. You hummed as you leaned in close, inspecting his form now. 

“Just like that.” You said softly, as you removed your hands from him. You backed up, looking him up and down. You looked up to his face, raising an eyebrow as you saw him avoid eye contact, his face a bit pink. “You understand now, Raiden?”

“Um, I…” Raiden stumbled on his words, his voice a little panicked as he looked down at himself before nodding. “Yes, I get it now.” He said quickly. You tilted your head, a bit confused at his change in demeanor. 

“It’s okay if you don’t.” You reassured him, sensing he was nervous. Was he all caught up in trying to be perfect after your praise? You had a feeling that wasn’t the reason, but you couldn’t quite understand what else it would be. “I didn’t mean to make you feel bad by praising you then correcting you.” You told him, trying to make sure he felt better. “I can help correct your form again if you need me to.”

“I should be good.” The former Fengjian farmhand said, his voice still a bit antsy. He shifted out of the form before facing the dummy. He took in a deep breath, trying to calm himself down. You nodded at him, and watched with satisfaction as he did the combination much better this time. “How was that?” He asked, a bit skeptical of his own performance.

“Excellent.” You praised, clapping your hands. “See, even if you mess up, you take critiques very well.” You pointed out with a smile. “It’s honestly impressive how quickly you can adapt sometimes now.” You continued. “I don’t think I was as quick of a learner as you are.”

“Really?” Raiden inquired, his eyebrows rising in surprise. “I can hardly imagine you not being excellent at fighting.” He commented, rubbing the back of his neck. “You just seem to be so talented at it, in all honesty. It’s admirable.”

“You flatter me too much.” You said, but still took the praise happily. You’d never admit it, but you enjoyed it whenever people praised your fighting skills. “I just have a lot of experience under my belt.” How much training you truly had, you had no idea, but he didn’t need to know that detail. “I do want you to know that I truly mean it when I say you’ve improved greatly, despite what just happened.”

“You are too kind.” Raiden said, nodding his head at your praise. “I hope to live up to your expectations for me.” 

“Oh Raiden,” You chuckled, covering your smile with your hand. You looked at the man fondly, shaking your head. “You already have.” You admitted. And it was true, he always went above and beyond for training, putting in more hours than anyone else did. He was truly dedicated to getting better.

The bashful look on his face, you had to admit, was rather amusing. You grinned. You felt bad, it was almost a bit fun to try and tease the man and see what got him flustered. Maybe you were being a bit of a bully, but you would never really admit that.

“I’ve only managed to get this far because I have such a wonderful mentor.” Raiden said, and you felt a bit warm as he turned the praise back on you. Sure, he had praised you just recently, but there was something about the way he said it that made this particular compliment feel special. The smile that decorated his face only added to it. “So, thank you.”

“For what?”

“For being such a wonderful person.”

part eight

#mortal kombat x reader #kung lao x reader #liu kang x reader #reptile x reader #smoke x reader #sub zero x reader #scorpion x reader #bi han #liu kang #raiden x reader #johnny cage x reader #johnny cage #tomas vrbada #kenshi x reader #syzoth #mortal kombat #mortal kombat 1 #mk1 #fanfiction #mk1 x reader #mk x reader #shang tsung x reader #shang tsung #mileena x reader #kitana x reader #syzoth x reader #ashrah x reader #havik x reader #rain x reader

[tallulah477]

Below the cut contains my thoughts and feelings about certain issues that I've seen recently that I feel like need to be addressed including hate/bullying, the new Neteyam & Lo'ak rp blogs, and the general fandom as a whole.

CW:// Mentions of pedophilia, predators, racism, and homophobia

Over the past several months, and especially over these past several days, it's come to my attention that we as a fandom need to make some things abundantly clear.

I was a silent reader for a long time. I love Avatar and this fandom with my entire heart and I wanted nothing more than to be an active part of it and member of the community, but the thing that stopped me for a long time was seeing how hateful people can be and I wasn't sure if I could handle it. Obviously, I decided that my happiness and sharing my love for Avatar and the characters with other people who love it as much as I do is more important than any nasty messages I might get and I couldn't be happier with my decision. I think I can safely say that most of us here in the fandom can say the same (although I'm sure the feeling of happiness comes with endless ebbs and flows for all of us).

That being said, the amount of sheer bullshit that I've been seeing on here is ridiculous.

The amount of hate messages that I've had to witness my mutuals receive is unacceptable. The amount of hounding as to why someone unfollowed this person, why aren't they interacting with this person anymore, why would someone write something like this, why won't you write this, is crazy to see. I've seen racist comments, I've seen homophobic comments, and I've seen people being called a pedophile wayyyy to often now.

This is Tumblr. We are responsible for our own media consumption. We cultivate our own media experience.

That means authors write what they enjoy regardless of content as long as they are responsible and tag the work correctly. You as the reader are responsible for heeding those warnings.

This means that if two people who used to interact or follow each other all of a sudden don't or someone gets blocked, it is no one's business as to why it happened. They don't owe you an explanation and there's no need to publicize drama. Do not go into their inboxes asking for details because all that does is feed the flames.

This is supposed to be people's happy place. Our safe space. And instead it seems like there's something new happening every single day.

At this point, we've all seen the rp blogs that have popped up. I'm not generally someone who enjoys rp so I didn't interact, but I saw a ton of my mutuals and others having a great time with them. Despite me not liking rp, it was exciting to see at first. A live persona of one of my most beloved characters interacting with fics that I love? Yes, it's definitely exciting to see!

But then it got not so exciting to see. The responses seemed solely sexual and out of character for Neteyam, a lot of them were really dark and borderline violent. I like dark fics, and I love dark Neteyam. But there are warnings to every dark fic and you go into them knowing what to expect. For a blog that's rp-ing a character that's not canonically like that, it was concerning to see.

We've had issues in this fandom in the past with predators. And despite us all being adults here (at least we should all be), you can never be too careful when it comes to the internet. I am NOT saying that the people running these blogs are predators, but certain things I've seen have raised some flags to me. Rp can be really dangerous when people don't know who's behind the character, especially if things are sexual. Since then, both blogs have created 'About Me' sections which I think is good. So that's something I appreciate.

However, we've also had the opposite problem in which minors interact with us and our content. It's a huge problem that we are constantly trying to battle because while seeing/reading sexual content can be harmful for those who are underage, it's can also get us into a lot of trouble for interacting with minors even if we don't know they're underage. When the accusation that the rp accounts were minors came out, they were sent asks to confirm. One responded respectfully and one, in my opinion, responded not so respectfully. If you are ever asked if you are a minor, don't get pissed about it. It's an important question and you should understand and respect its importance. Just clarify.

I'm saying all this not because I don't think people should interact with these blogs if you want to. It's 100% up to you and I know a lot of people were having fun with it. You're all adults, do what you think is best. And I do think it would be really nice to have more guys in the community, whether they rp or not. My issue with them is more about safety than anything else.

Now back to the hate comments. For any issues I might have had with the Neteyam blog (again, no hate, just my own thoughts), I only ever saw the Lo'ak blog being respectful. Yet, I still saw someone on their actual blog, not under anon, telling him "can't you just leave?". Under no circumstances is it okay to say this to another person. Any one who is an active member of this community who posts fics or the like KNOWS what its like to receive hateful comments like this and you think its okay to say something like this to someone else? No way. I'm sure you know what it feels like to get comments like that and you decided to be nasty to another person anyway. You should know better. Anyone who can say something mean to or about another person should be ashamed of themselves.

For as much as I love this fandom, this is insane that I actually have to say this.

Be kind. Be respectful.

And if you can't?

It's called the block button, people. Use it.

#𝑻𝒂𝒍𝒊𝒆 𝑻𝒂𝒍𝒌𝒔 ♡

[kahtiihma]

to my friends on the official malevolent discord server

I was recently kicked from the Invictus/Malevolent discord server and had no opportunity to reach out to anyone I was speaking with at the time before my access was removed. If we were talking and you wished to continue (or if you wanted to start a conversation with me and never had the chance), please DM me here on tumblr or contact me on discord (username: kahti). I miss you all, I’m absolutely heartbroken, and this was never how I wanted things to go. I’m hoping this tumblr message will reach at least a few of you so I don’t lose contact with everyone fully.

To everyone in the Invictus server who knew me well, I love you all. I hope you stay well. Please keep posting flowers and my heart goes out to all of you. You made this community fun and rewarding and I’m grateful for having known you. Goodbye 💕

Details will be provided below.

As many may know, I’ve been a part of the Malevolent podcast fan community for over two years and active in the official Invictus discord server run by Harlan since April 2021. I adore the community and the people there have been so lovely. Many friends have come out of that space and for years I have been vocal about how my priority has always been maintaining peace and nurturing relationships.

This is why I find it very difficult to talk about this situation.

On Friday, July 14th, I was private messaged on discord by Jo (Harlan’s wife) saying I would be kicked from the Invictus server and have my Patreon membership revoked. Immediately upon receiving that message the server vanished from my access while I was reeling in confusion. I think there was implication that I was meant to take the message as an opportunity to leave the server on my own accord but I had no access or ability to do so, nor were any of my responses for clarification given any reply.

The reason cited for kicking me was that Harlan and Jo were uncomfortable I showed interest in meeting them at this year’s FanExpo Toronto, an event we have all attended together in the past. As they did last year, they provided a google survey to track interest and attendees which contained an option “are you interested in meeting Jo & Harlan?”. Since this was the method used last year to headcount the number of people interested in a discord server meetup, I selected “yes” despite having no actual intention of interacting with them directly.

Without going into detail, there have been many incidents over this last year behind the scenes that have left me feeling very uncomfortable about the Guthries and I would rather have given them space and hoped they’d respect my space as well. If they had reached out to me and stated they weren’t comfortable with me attending any meetup they were hosting, I would have immediately respected those wishes and avoided being in the same general area at the time. However, this was the first time Jo had spoken to me in nine months and I hadn’t heard from Harlan in four months. At no point during that time was I given any indication that I was doing anything wrong or causing anyone any trouble so it came as a complete shock to be suddenly escalated to outright banned.

I knew they had me blocked since March this year but respected that as their decision even if the reasons were unclear and did my best to avoid interacting with them while still engaging in the space -- something Harlan himself stated he hoped I would continue to do when they removed my moderator status in March, which I took as his consent and blessing to remain in the server. To be told my presence was unwanted totally blindsided me and left me struggling to understand what happened.

I’m not too proud to say I immediately burst into tears in the doctor’s office I was waiting in at the time of being kicked.

I’m not concerned about retaliation. I’m not concerned with anyone taking my side. I wish they had been better at communicating their needs so this entire situation could have been avoided, but it happened and it is what it is. Currently I’m absolutely gutted bc there were so many people I enjoyed speaking with who I now have no access to nor do I have their discord names to dm them and let them know where I went. I hate that it looks like I vanished without saying goodbye.

#malevolent #malevolent podcast #masked #malevolent pod #rusty quill #personal

[blvck-coffee-dad]

Time for a legit pinned/intro post? Probably...

👋🏿 So hey. Y'all can call me BN (initialism of my old Tumblr URL from about 10 years ago) or "Dad." I've been around Tumblr here and there since... 2009.

☕ Since I've been around so long, it's probably not surprising that I'm in my 40s. I've got a kid in college who I'm very proud of. It's probably unhealthy to say or think that your kid is your "reason for living," but if it wasn't, I might say that.

💻 I'm in tech for a living. Got my first job in IT when I was 19, so I've been at it for over 20 years.

🧔🏿‍♂️ The reason behind my "Black dads are the best dads" quip is because... it's true. Despite the stereotypes you might've heard regarding absentee Black fathers, recent and peer-reviewed research shows that out of all ethnic groups in America, Black fathers have the most active involvement in their children's lives, whether or not they live in the same household as their mother.

🔍 You could just scroll and see what I post here but it's mostly like... pretty scenery, coffee, pretty women, Star Trek, 80s/90s nostalgia, tech, kink, food, more coffee, personal posts, style, and of course shitposts.

🙏🏿 Believe it or not, I'm actually a pretty devout Christian. Church on Sundays, actively involved and everything. Perhaps hard to believe because I clearly don't mind posting nudity/kink things, but... Tumblr's an outlet for me, for now. I'd like to post more things about Jesus-y things, though so maybe you'll see that more often.

🏫 I'm also an undergrad student--yes, at my big ol' age. I'm working on a bachelor's degree in cybersecurity. I quickly trashed my first attempt out of high school, but I'm finally back to it. I'm hoping to graduate by October 2024 at the latest (but really shooting for April... then onto grad school, I hope). I have a sideblog for school things at @coffee-dad-studies. I might be posting more about that here soon too.

⚠️ I promise y'all.... my liking or leaving a comment on one of your posts does not mean anything more than "I liked this." 😅 Despite being a male in my 40s on Tumblr, I'm pretty normal in my interactions. I'm friendly and kind and occasionally flirty, but that's it. Nothing more.

🚫 Please leave me and my blog and my content alone if you're a bigot, an asshole, a fetishizer of Black men, or a minor. (I'm not gonna freak out if a minor likes or reblogs a wholesome text post but don't follow me.)

#pinned #okay here come some tags... #dad.jpg #dad.gif #mental health #Black dads #Dad goes back to college #Jesus stuff #church stuff #Trek

[wylanslcve]

So if you've been following me on Instagram you would have seen me say recently that I've decided to take a step back from posting/sharing/creating Grishaverse content due to what Leigh Bardugo said (or rather what she didn't say) about the situation in Palestine. For context, during the press tour for The Familiar, an audience member asked Leigh about the justification for non-BIPOC authors profiting off BIPOC stories yet not advocating for real-life BIPOC people (since Leigh has been silent on Palestine since October, despite having expressed solidarity with Palestine in the past).

The video (which you can watch here) has been circulating the internet for a while, and I've already spoken about this on Instagram. I just forgot I had Tumblr for a second there, hence why I'm only addressing this now despite having already spoken about this. However, as someone who has an entire online presence dedicated to Leigh's work, it would be wrong and rather hypocritical of me to not address this.

Disclaimer: This is not a conversation about whether or not white/white-passing authors should be allowed to write BIPOC stories, as many people both in the comments of the original video and online generally have taken it. The issue isn't that Leigh is writing BIPOC stories - it's that she's writing them and choosing not to advocate for real BIPOC people.

The audience member asked a confronting but necessary question, and isn't harassing Leigh as many people online have interpreted it. Holding your favourite people accountable isn't "harassment", especially when that person is a successful author profiting off stories that reflect issues in the real world. Art is inherently political whether or not you want to acknowledge it. This also isn't about specifically asking Leigh this question because she's Jewish - it's because she profits off these stories and yet when these exact same issues are prevalent in the real world, suddenly they're "too political" for her to speak up about despite having expressed solidarity in the past. It has nothing to do with her being Jewish.

However, what's going on in Palestine isn't a political issue. It's basic human rights. It's about humanity, and acting as if posting about this issue is "performative" is ridiculous. I don't know what she's doing behind the scenes, so I'm not going to act as if she isn't doing anything outside of social media because I simply don't know, but when you have an online presence as big as Leigh's you should be using that platform to raise awareness and express solidarity. I understand that it's very easy to come across as "performing activism", especially on social media, but Palestinians have asked us time and time again to use our platforms to help raise awareness and amplify their voices. When you're someone like Leigh who profits off stories of the trials and tribulations of BIPOC people, the very least you can do is talk about the atrocities being committed against BIPOC people in real life.

No one is expecting you to be an expert on what's going on. If you've previously posted misinformation, why not learn from it and actually educate yourself and do better? You're literally an author who profits off stories of colonialism, oppression, dissemination, apartheid, segregation and genocide and suddenly that happening in real life is "too political"? And the amount of privilege you have to not want to get involved in talking about a real-life genocide because you "stopped being political on Instagram" is laughable. Just feeling sad about it isn't going to do anything. It doesn't erase the fact that an entire people are being ethnically cleansed in a genocide you refuse to talk about.

The Grishaverse means so much to me, it's gotten me through some extremely tough periods of my life, but I cannot in good conscience continue to support an author who chooses silence over her own humanity. All she had to say in response to that question was "free Palestine", but she instead said something akin to "I know about what's going on and I know silence and feeling sad about it probably isn't enough, but I'm just not going to do anything about it". Again, I know she's advocated for Palestine in the past, but why not continue doing so? No one is stopping her - she's actively chosen to stop.

As for my accounts? I'm still deciding what to do with them. I won't be deleting them, I'm not going anywhere, but I won't be posting edits or sharing analyses or general posts about the Grishaverse until Leigh decides to do better. This blog will probably turn into a multifandom blog, but who knows at this point. All I know is that I won't be promoting Leigh's work.

#i'm so disappointed in leigh #i sincerely hope she does better #but until then i won't be promoting her work in any way #i'll keep my username on all my accounts the same though #palestine #free palestine #from the river to the sea palestine will be free #leigh bardugo #grishaverse #shadow and bone #seige and storm #ruin and rising #six of crows #crooked kingdom #king of scars #rule of wolves #kaz brekker #inej ghafa #jesper fahey #wylan van eck #nina zenik #matthias helvar #alina starkov #malyen oretsev #nikolai lantsov #zoya nazyalensky

[ohtobeleah]

Hey there lovely people. I hope this Easter break has brought you nothing but rejuvenation. I hope all your family members are doing well too!

I thought I'd just stop by and give a quick update on what's been going on. I haven't been very active on here as of late and a few weeks ago, decided I needed a break.

My mental health hasn't been the greatest recently. I decided to take some time away from Tumblr as the anons I was receiving were too nasty, too cruel and overall too much for me to handle on a daily basis.

I'd recently had to make some really difficult choices to step away from friendships that were no longer viable, despite best efforts being made to salvage what remained.

While grieving the loss of one friendship, I was informed that an ex-client and dear friend of mine, took her own life. This really set me back and I have very much struggled to come to terms with her death. In our sessions she would often vocalise how beneficial and imperative our sessions were to her mental health plan. When I quit and moved to another facility, I wasn’t sure if she would find another trainer that could help her the same way.

She never did: her mother reached out to me to express that there was nothing more I could have done for her daughter, but she wanted me to know.

Not only has my mental health been very unstable, so has my physical health. Last Monday I had yet another ovarian cyst rupture. I am right back where I started in looking for treatment, management and more information about what is going on. The public holidays have set my test/scan results back a few days but I am on the waiting list to see a specialist about the possibility of having my ovaries removed if this will be something I have to endure each month.

My body feels weak, I’m constantly fatigued, my appetite is barely there. With migraines, nausea and constant pelvic pain, it's hard to brave work right now with a smile and a positive attitude.

Bailey has also been dealing with some back pain/inflammation around his L5 and S1 vertebrae. So between the two of us, we are probably two halves of one whole healthy human.

I’m hoping to start using this hellscape some more, although I'm still a little apprehensive. But I thought before I do, those who support me and those who have reached out to check in would appreciate a little update. I hope it brings some understanding as to where I’m sitting right now.

I miss you all, please take care of yourselves. 💕

#tw: suicide #tw: mentions of suicide #tw: mental health

[mookymilksims]

I was struggling with how to respond to blackswan, and you said it all so perfectly! Thank you so much.

I want say this in general because the drama is done and we aren't ever going to get a response here.

Firstly, thank you for saying that, while I never look to represent anyone, it is a relief to know that I wasn't the only one thinking it.

I've wonder why simsecret is such an environment recently, and then I realized that the simblr community space is a PR warzone.

People, in general, are afraid to speak up, afraid to speak their minds, for fear of losing notes, being canceled, receiving anon hate.

There's a bizarre and unspoken rule here that you need to do everything publicly in a very calculated manner and it incentivizes people to not be themselves and think about how other's will perceive them more. Then you consider that a good chunk of people in this community are not very good people, so who's rules are we even playing by?

I've been hearing from a lot of new and old simmers who state that this space is very depressing for them because they felt lonely and anxiety when attempting to interact with each other. Anxiety when posting their gameplay. Anxiety when asking questions to other simblrs. Anxiety when reacting to other people's post.

Tumblr was made to connect with people. So why is simblr causing so much anxiety and pushing people who want to connect and interact and speak up; into silence?

Then spaces like Simsecret start to make a little more sense. It seems to be a rebellion to the atmosphere here in simblr. Same can be said for the anon feature here on tumblr.

When people are having an easier time connecting on FB, Reddit, and Discord than tumblr, despite being mutuals here it's safe to say there is a root problem in this space.

I think this whole situation reveals a bigger problem with simblr in general, that just hasn't really been addressed.

I want to offer some solutions here that are pretty simple so I hope no one takes this as being condescending:

If you really like someone's blog, don't even look at their notes. Heart it. Send them a direct ask off of anon and talk about what you love about their content.

Reblog their content, again, don't look at the notes, if you like it and it makes you happy, and you want it on your page, reblog it.

DM simblrs, I mean is this a stretch? Just reach out and say hello. If you want to befriend them, be the first to extend that olive branch. The worst they can say is no or not respond, that's not that bad.

Real life topics such as queer-phobia, racism, sexism, etc will always rear it's head into any space with humans in it. You bring your biases with you. If you see someone express very harmful views, speak up. This doesn't mean or have to mean you or that person is getting canceled. These could easily be teachable moments, and even healthy dialogue. Unless you literally studied and work in sociopolitical fields and are an active activist, the vibe should be to not expect anyone to know everything. These ideals are so deeply engrained into us from a young age, it wouldn't be fair to expect each and every person to know exactly how these complex super structural systems work.

Tell jokes sometimes, I'd love to know what sense of humor you guys have, we get memes like once in a blue moon. Let's try to not make this space so serious, it has everyone on edge.

There is so much beautiful art work and content in general right here on tumblr but I've heard simblrs express anxiety with reblogging that because they don't want to lose followers by posting non sims content. I literally love the rest of tumblr for the very reason that I can translate that work back into my game. And I just thought someone's photography or drawing or story was so good I wanted to see it on my blog.

I mean bouncing off the previous one, why don't we interact with the rest of tumblr? That would be dope.

And this shouldn't even be regulated to the rest of tumblr, I'd love to engage with more ts1, ts2, and ts4 simmers as well.

I mean I think I've made my point, because I can keep going with this. I don't think this is going to fix sim secret or the need for simmers like blackswan to dirty delete. I'm actually very disappointed in that whole situation because she could've received a lot of support but she dug herself into a deeper hole after her actions. I'm sad for her and sad that this situation was flipped into drama and not that black simmers in general are tired of the micro aggressions. Which is a way more serious message. But people are afraid to speak up. So I guess everyone active in this community will keep going around and around in this cycle. I certainly intend to KEEP applying the solutions I've outlined above, anyone feel free to join me.

#simblr #ts3 simblr

[laukisimp]

Hey everyone, I just wanted to express my gratitude for reaching 500+ followers! I never expected to gain such a large following here, especially since the Purple Hyacinth community on Tumblr is quite small. Although I haven't been active on this account as much recently, it makes me happy to see some activity despite the long hiatus. We may be a small fandom, but we are definitely passionate about this series. Here's to a great 2024, and hopefully our favorite comic will return next year!

#text post #thank you #500 followers #purple hyacinth #webtoon

[siffrin-enthusiast]

hello! I don't follow you but I've seen your post about the fact Tumblr is banning trans women, black people and censoring posts about palestine for no reason float around, I had no idea that was happening, so thanks for pointing that out, but also, do you have more info on that? This might be a huge ask but this is such a strange and sad thing to hear about and I want to know more about it if that's okay.

hi anon! i would like to point out that i'm not one of the marginalized groups being censored by tumblr (as i'm a white, american transmasc) and i recognize that i'm very privileged to not have been censored and have the ability to speak on this, with resources predominantly gathered by trans women and people of color, so in future i would reccomend you ask someone who is a victim of transmisogyny/racism by the tumblr staff. that being said, i'll do my best to educate you and point you in some good directions. if anyone else wants to add anything that i missed to this, or correct any mistake i've made, feel free to do so!

tw for transphobia and screenshots of explicit calls to violence (there will be a clear TW so you know where it is.)

if this gets my account exploded, it’s been real.

the most recent example that made site-wide news was banning the transfemme user predestrogen (also known as rita) who was undergoing transphobic harassment and mass false-reporting for sfw pictures (here's a second tumblr user i found undergoing the same kind of harassment and here's a second account of rita's experience with photomatt from a friend of hers). she reported these threats and false reports, to no avail (as a post here details matt's response to terfism), and got pissed off and made a VERY obviously joking post about the site's ceo mattphoto’s car being exploded with hammers. this was very clearly one of the absurd joke threats tumblr is known for. this resulted in predestrogen getting banned, with matt nearly calling the police on her, and furthermore, followed onto twitter by matt.

here is the tumblr post in question that started everything.

here's one of MANY tweets of matt's to rita, and to do your own research a post i found with multiple more of them.

following users to a platform without them mentioning you? IS REALLY BAD. he deliberately searched for that account and sent multiple replies back to predestrogen. and hey, while we're here, he also..stalked the tags for a little while LMAO and kept replying to random users.

as you can hopefully see, this is very obviously a joke threat. "i hope your car is covered in exploding hammers" is not a credible threat of violence. all of this over..this post.

you don't even need to take my word for it. here is a dropbox folder of screenshots of his that you can personally look through.

please note that this is ONE recent example of a disabled trans woman being banned without violating the tumblr terms of service in the sea of many trans women and people of color who have likewised been banned despite not violating TOS, unlike a few that i can find within about three clicks from my post that went viral. i have reported both of the below replies openly calling for violence against immigrants in the comments of this post already yesterday, and they have not been removed.

tw: explicit calls for violence.

scroll past this section if you do not want to see them.

these are not joke threats. i don't think i need to explain why talking about shooting immigrants is really fucking bad. i’m aware that tumblr has to deal with a large number of reports, but i hope you can recognize the absurdity of exploding hammers being banned and having the threat of a police call and followed on a different platform while actively calling for death to immigrants remaining unchanged at the time of posting this.

tw ends here.

while we're here, have some receipts of matt being not exactly pro-palestine.

to show that this is not a one-time thing, here's him following a zionist on this platform. funnily enough, from math that i could be wrong about..

the right screenshot says transmascpetewentz reblogged with the pro-isreal comment eleven days after its original date, feburary 12th, which means feburary 23rd. which happens to be the same day photomatt followed petewentz. i am not saying matt followed petewentz because of this post, i just noticed a coincidence.

i encourage you to do your own research, ask trans women and people of color on this site, and come to your own conclusions, anon. i hope this could help point you in a helpful direction.

#trans #free palestine #kuiper asks #tw transphobes #transphobes #tw violence #transmisogny tw #predestrogen #photomatt #predstrogen