#i figured if i was gonna write more of this au i should explain some of my thought processes

[moonlinos]

Invisible string (pt. II)

♡ Pairing: Lee Minho × fem!reader

♡ Synopsis: Minho is even more determined to make you see the good in love after falling for you, while you’re too preoccupied with thinking you’re not good enough for him.

♡ Genre: A ‘lite version’ of a soulmate AU, fluff, smut, friends to lovers, pining

♡ CW: Explicit sexual content (minors dni!), hand job, fingering, like two seconds of nipple play, slut shaming, swearing

♡ Word count: 13.2k

♡ A/N: I got such a great response on the first part 🥲 thank you to everyone who left feedback. It means a lot more than you realize. I researched what to do on a trip to Japan so extensively just to write this part that I got sad I’ve never traveled there 🫠

← part I ♡ part III →

The night after you and Minho watched the light show, you stayed awake until four in the morning with your roommates as Eunha cried about her ex-boyfriend. You’ve never been the type to hope for someone’s misery, but that guy is deserving of every terrible thing that could happen to him.

After she calmed down, you fell asleep together on the couch. You only managed to check your phone in the morning, finding it thrown on your bed along with your bag. Minho’s string of messages put a smile on your face. You could use the time away from everything, even if it was only for a weekend.

You agreed to his strange invitation without thinking twice. You did, however, insist on paying for your hotel room. Chan was already being far too generous in offering you his place on a trip he had paid for.

Soon enough, two weeks flew by and the Friday of your trip finally arrived.

You’re already waiting outside of your house when Minho’s car arrives. He greets you with a hug, taking your backpack from your hands and placing it on the backseat. He opens the passenger door for you, waits until you’re settled in your seat, and only then closes the door and walks around the car. It’s something he does every time you go out together and it always makes you smile, even though it’s such a minor detail.

“You know, you’re my first friend who can drive,” you comment as he enters the car. “You shot up a lot of spots on my favorite friends’ list just by saving me from taking the bus.”

Minho chuckles. “And here I foolishly thought you liked me for my personality,” he feigns offense, shaking his head. “I actually only know how to drive because of my mom. I was moving to the countryside, and she got really worried I was gonna be stranded there, so she gave me a car when I graduated.”

You raise your brows. “You lived in the countryside?”

“Yep, I moved to Gurye right after graduating high school,” he explains simply, starting the car.

You nod slowly. Truthfully, you wanted to ask more questions but didn’t want to seem intrusive. Minho had never told you a lot about his life before starting university — the only things you know are that he has three cats back home in Gimpo and started college late for some reason. You figure he’s a private person who will hopefully open up to you once he’s ready. You couldn’t blame him either; you also desperately pretended as if your life before university didn’t exist.

As you two sit in the car, moving slowly through the awful Friday night traffic, you feel the familiar thoughts of panic overflow your mind. This trip felt almost romantic; just you and Minho in Japan for an entire weekend. You should be running away from shit like this, should be shutting him out before anything more than friendship blossoms between the two of you.

Your fingers pick on the fabric of your sheer tights, pulling and pinching apprehensively as your mind races. Because, at the end of the day, Minho is still a guy. He’s still capable of breaking your heart in the same ways it was broken before, and maybe even in new ways. He could still cheat on you, fall in love with someone else, treat you like nothing more than an object or a nuisance in his life, wake up one day and simply decide he’s had enough of you.

But he’s also Minho.

Your heart quickly countered every single reason your brain came up with on why you should run away from the situation.

How could Minho, who believes that love doesn’t allow you to hurt the person you love because it feels like you’re hurting yourself, cheat on you?

How could Minho, who told you that love makes it so that you can only see the one you love, fall in love with someone else?

How could Minho, who does stupid romance movie shit like opening car doors and pulling out chairs for you, insisting that he should walk on the street side when you’re together, reading classic novels, learning how to cook so his mom doesn’t have to, all while having three fucking cats, possibly break your heart?

Part of you hates how you have to do mental gymnastics to even consider allowing yourself to feel something more for a guy, but a bigger part knows the hurt that inevitably comes with love isn’t worth it.

You hear a soft chuckle beside you, and you lift your gaze to find Minho smiling at you as you stop at a red light.

“Is that a style thing?” He asks, gesturing toward your thighs with a nod. You furrow your brows. The light turns green, and his attention is back on the road, a grin spread across his lips. “Ripping holes in your tights. Is that a style thing?”

You look down toward your legs and grimace as you realize you had mindlessly torn two holes in your tights while overthinking. You mentally curse yourself.

“I’m cold,” you lie with an awkward giggle. “Was trying to warm myself up.”

Minho hums, stepping on the brakes as you encounter another traffic jam. He unbuckles his seat belt, turns his body toward the back seat, and retrieves his jacket before draping it over your thighs. He shoots you a small smile and turns his attention back toward the road.

The side of your brain that was against Minho and anything romantic with him just a few moments ago is completely swallowed up, dissipating as you ultimately admit to yourself that you don’t hate the prospect of this being a romantic trip as long as it’s with him.

God, you really don’t hate it one bit.

You two finally arrive at the airport just in time to board your flight with no issues. You’re not big on flying, but the flight is just a little over two hours, and Minho is such a calming presence next to you. He quietly read you some harlequin romance he picked up at the airport bookstore, and you two laughed a bit too loudly at the over-the-top plot and theatrical writing. The two of you were taken aback as the book turned out to be erotica, but hearing Minho dramatically read to you in a whisper about the hunky love interest and his manhood made you laugh until tears formed in your eyes.

After that, you two somehow end up talking about your lives back home. Minho shares how he always cooks Christmas dinner for his family, and his favorite part of the night is always the praises his grandmother throws his way. He explains that although he started cooking simply to help his mother, he found that he genuinely enjoyed it. He said he missed doing it every day, having stopped because his roommates had begun treating him as nothing more than a personal cook. You listen to his every word with a smile on your face that you can’t hide. It feels like he’s slowly opening up more to you about his life outside of university, and even something as small as this detail about his home life makes you feel closer to him.

The flight is so pleasant that you only realize you’ve landed once you see Minho unbuckling his seat belt.

You two take an Uber to the hotel, arriving in thirty minutes — you insist on paying since you’re basically here for free. You stare out the car window in awe the entire ride, Minho fondly laughing at your amazement.

As you arrive, you struggle with your backpack, pulling it out of the backseat with such force you would have fallen backward had it not been for Minho’s hands holding your shoulders. He asks if you’re okay with a chuckle, and you groan about how heavy your backpack is. Packing light wasn’t your forte.

As you two walk toward the hotel entrance, the weight on your shoulders disappears suddenly. You furrow your brows and look behind you. Minho had nonchalantly picked your backpack up by the handle and lifted it off your shoulders, carrying all the weight in his arms. You bite back a smile, murmuring a thank you. He just nods, like he hasn’t just done yet another thing you thought only happened in books written by women.

You feel that damn pinwheel return to your chest, making you feel a kind of thrill that you haven’t felt in a while. A good kind.

The hotel is relatively small, clearly on the cheap side, although it’s still quite charming. Minho mutters an apology as he catches you looking around the place.

“It was the only place I could afford being a broke college student,” He explains with a sheepish chuckle, and you shake your head.

“It’s lovely. I’m so happy to be here, I think I wouldn’t mind sleeping on the floor.”

Minho is the one who checks you in, speaking in near-perfect Japanese to the front desk clerk. You focus on the wood chipping on the table and bite the inside of your cheek as you inwardly berate yourself for finding it so damn attractive. It was different from your classes or your small study sessions. You had never truly grasped just how good Minho was until right now. You didn’t understand a word he said. All you know is that he sounded too sexy for his own good while saying it.

Minho hands you the key and tells you the room number, and you finally make your way up the stairs. He walks beside you the whole way, and you wonder if his room is on the same floor as yours or if he’s just doing this so he can hold your backpack off your shoulders.

As you reach your room on the third floor, he stops you before you can insert the key into the door.

“Before you go inside…” He trails off, pursing his lips before letting out a sigh. “I — we could only afford to pay for one room, so this is actually our room.”

Your eyes widen for a second before you nod slowly. “Oh. It’s… okay,” you assure him, although there’s very little confidence in your voice. The prospect of sharing a bed with Minho makes you nervous, but not for the reasons you thought it would.

“There are two beds! Of course,” He assures you, and you mentally slap yourself on the forehead for feeling disappointed at this information.

It’s because you’ve exclusively been having sex with Hyunjin for so long, you reason with yourself. Your hormones must be making you stupid, making you want something more with someone else who isn’t him.

Yeah, that’s it.

Minho’s your friend, after all. It wouldn’t make sense for you to want anything more with him.

It’s just your stupid hormones.

You turn the key and open the door, stepping inside the tiny room with Minho. The two beds were so close together due to the room size that they might as well be just one. The only other piece of furniture is a bedside table, which basically connects the two beds.

It’s only once you slide your backpack straps off your shoulders that Minho lets go of the handle, and you toss it on the plain white sheets of the bed to your right by the bathroom door.

Feeling a chill run through your body, you let out a groan. The heater in your room is clearly not the best.

“Tights and a skirt weren’t the right choice for this weather. This shitty heater also isn’t helping,” you grumble.

Minho chuckles behind you, and you hear the sound of the bed springs as he all but throws himself onto the bed. “Poking holes in your tights probably didn’t help either,” he jokes, and you force out a chuckle.

It seems you chose today to act like a complete idiot.

You excuse yourself to the bathroom to change into your warm sleep clothes. The first thing you notice as you walk out into the room again is Minho’s bright orange sweater with a cat knitted on the front. He’s lying down, his back resting on the wall since the beds don’t have a headboard, and the color of his sweater might be a bit offensive to the eyes, but it’s quickly forgiven once you take in the kitten adorning the fabric.

You giggle, and he looks up from his phone, his eyes meeting yours.

“Your sweater is really cute,” you tell him as you sit down in your bed, crossing your legs in an attempt to warm yourself a bit more.

Minho grins. “I know,” He says smugly, “It reminds me of two of my cats because of the color.”

“You know,” you hummed, “You never showed me any pictures of your cats.”

You watch as his eyes light up at your words. He locks his phone before quickly turning it to face you, showing you his wallpaper. Your lips stretch into a fond smile as you analyze the picture: Minho holding an orange and white cat close to his face with a grin, a butterfly filter cutely adorning his nose.

“This is Soonie, he’s the first cat I got,” He explains, turning his head so he could look at the screen as well, “I was thirteen when I adopted him, and I remember begging my parents for almost three months until they agreed. In the end, they loved him so much they allowed me to adopt another one.”

Minho unlocks his phone and opens his gallery, flipping through his pictures like it’s the most normal thing in the world. You purse your lips. It feels like you’re intruding, even though he’s the one who hasn’t moved the screen an inch. You couldn’t think of one person you’d trust enough to so freely view every single picture you had on your phone like this. Minho really was something else.

Most of his gallery is composed of blurry food pictures mixed with pages and covers of books and computer screens filled with codes. Until he reaches a point — before he started university, you assume — where the only thing you can see is pictures of cats.

He stops scrolling and clicks a picture of the same orange cat, this time wearing glasses and a hat. You snort because, of course he dresses his cats in clothes.

“Soonie is adorable,” you beam. Minho furrows his brows and shakes his head, looking at you like he’s offended.

“This is Doongie,” he states like it’s obvious, “The second cat I adopted.”

Your brows furrow as well. “Minho, that’s the same cat.”

He clicks his tongue, closing the picture and scrolling before opening another one; two orange and white cats lay together on a cat tree. Your lips fall open.

“See? This one is Soonie, he has a white nose. And this one is Doongie, his nose is orange,” He explains, and you nod, knowing full well you’d be dead if your life depended on distinguishing these two cats. “Doongie is the middle child, so he’s more temperamental.”

You stifle a giggle at him talking about his cats like they’re his children, much like you do.

He closes the picture once again and scrolls down further. His fingers hover over a picture for a couple of seconds, like he’s hesitating before he ultimately opens it. The screen fills with the image of a younger Minho smiling while holding a gray cat. His wire-frame glasses were round, unlike his current ones, and his black hair used to be shorter. The picture has clearly been cropped, only half of the cat’s body still visible.

“This is Dori. He’s the last cat I got, and he’s actually the only one I call my son.” He lets out a breathy chuckle. “I adopted him with my ex-girlfriend. She wanted a dog, but I fell in love with Dori as soon as I laid eyes on him on the website, so she had no choice but to accept him.”

You watch as he smiles at the picture and the memory. You absentmindedly fiddle with your fingers on your lap, an all too familiar ugly feeling bubbling inside you. Jealousy. Not because Minho mentioned a girlfriend — you wish it was as simple as that. Jealousy consumed you when you were forced to face the reality that people have healthy relationships, where one partner sacrifices their own desires just to please their loved one. Where you make plans to adopt a kitten together just so you can call it your son. You know damn well you were never even close to having something even remotely similar to that.

You shake the feeling off, forcing out a smile. “He’s really cute,” you tell Minho, “And he’s my favorite, ‘cause at least I can tell him apart from the other two.”

Minho chuckles, scrunching his nose as he locks his phone and rests it on his thigh.

  You two settle into bed after Minho walked you through the day he and Chan had planned for tomorrow. He had organized everything neatly in a travel planning app — from where you would be going down to an estimate of how much you would be spending. You always preferred roughly planning things out mentally whenever you traveled, mostly enjoying going with the flow.

Among all your coincidentally similar little incidents, you finally found something in which you two are complete opposites.

That should, in theory, annoy you, but you can’t help but find his meticulousness endearing. You can just picture him searching tirelessly online, crunching numbers and jotting everything down. The image is too adorable for you to be mad.

“Guess we finally found somewhere we’re different,” you mention with a smile as you tuck yourself into your sheets. Minho remains sitting on his bed, putting his glasses on their case.

He hums. “Rather than different, maybe we just complement each other in this case? You hate organizing, and I fucking love to do it, as you just saw,” he chuckles, “We’d be a great team. I plan everything, and all you have to do is show up.”

You nod with a smile, going over the places he chose in your head. You were excited for all but one: the very first one on the list, Inokashira Park.

“You know,” you start with a sigh, Minho’s eyes finding yours in the dimly lit room. “I never talk about this, but I weirdly feel like I can tell you anything. Nobody from our friend group knows this but…” you trail off, gripping the scratchy fabric of the comforter. “One of my ex-boyfriends cheated on me during a family trip to Japan when I was seventeen. I found out ‘cause the girl he hooked up with tagged him in pictures on Instagram. They were together in Inokashira Park.”

Minho hums, his eyes studying your face. After a beat of silence, he shrugs.

“We can skip that if you want to. I just—” He purses his lips, shifting on the mattress. “I just don’t think you should deprive yourself of the experience just because of a bad memory. It wouldn’t be fair to you.”

You nod, taking in his words. He was right. You were positive none of your exes ever deprived themselves of going back to places where they cheated on you, so why should you? They were the ones in the wrong, the ones who hurt and betrayed you, so why should you be the one to bear the trauma?

Minho rests his back against the wall, playing with the drawstrings of his sweatpants. “Is that why you don’t believe in love anymore? Don’t feel like you have to answer! I just… I wondered…” He faltered, a heavy sigh escaping his lips. “I wondered what could have happened to make you feel that way.”

“Well, that was just one of five times when love proved to kind of hate my guts,” you chuckle. You didn’t understand why, but the words you held back for so long were bubbling at your throat, ready to spill out. And you were willing to let them. Even if only to a certain extent, you were ready to talk about this pathetic side of your life. You would rationalize it all later. Right now, you simply wanted to talk.

“I’ve had five boyfriends in my life, and they were all terrible in some way. I know, it’s a lot of relationships considering my age.” You scrunch up your face, cringing when you voice out the number.

Minho chuckles, and you’re ready for him to agree.

“It’s really not. There’s no right or wrong number of people to date during your teenage years or your twenties.” You open your eyes to find him leaning on his side, looking at you dismissively. “Some people date more, some date less, some people don’t even date at all. Either way, it’s fine.”

Your lips open and close, then open again. You had always expected people’s reactions to be the same as the ones you heard during high school. From your classmates to your ex-boyfriends, even your friends at the time, they all seemed to be in unanimous agreement that you were at fault for having dated so much in such a brief period. You never thought that maybe people with different opinions existed. And that, maybe, those people would be the ones who you care the most about.

Thinking about it now, after hearing Minho’s words, you were certain neither Eunha nor Soojung — or any of your friends, for that matter — would ever think badly about you or shame you simply because you’ve had five boyfriends. It seemed silly even to think that way now.

It was sad how much your teenage traumas undeniably affected your perception of reality.

Minho is the one to break the silence, his soft voice pulling you away from your thoughts.

“I’m sorry that happened to you. I promise you, the memories we make on this trip will be good enough that they override this lousy one,” he vows with a small nod. “And, more than ever before, I truly hope I can change your view of love.”

You smile at his words. “I surprisingly feel my thoughts about many things changing. Love is one of them.”

“I’m glad,” he hums, finally slipping under his covers. “Y’know, love isn’t only romantic. You say you’re closed off to love, that’s really a lie,” he states matter-of-factly, a smug grin spreading across his lips. You bite back a smile and raise your eyebrows at him. He continues, “The love you feel for your family and your friends, platonic love, that’s also love. I’ve been around you long enough to know just how much you love your friends.”

To say you loved your friends almost didn’t seem sufficient. After graduating high school, you left behind all the judgmental and toxic friends you had. You are immensely grateful to have found such good people at university. Eunha and Soojung were the housemates of your dreams, the three of you so different that it truthfully shouldn’t work, but it simply did. Hyunjin becoming your best friend was also a surprise; he was younger than you, and you had never been friends with a guy before — in part thanks to your jealous boyfriends — but he carved out a space for himself in your life and refused to leave. And you were so thankful for that.

And then there was Minho, who had come out of the blue into your life and just as suddenly became such an important person to you. From the way you two first met to your little similarities and how well you got along in such a short time, it was as if fate pulled you toward him.

You smile.

“I do love them,” you tell him, fiddling with your fingers under the white comforter. “And I love you, too, Minho. You’re my friend, after all. In a way, you’re already succeeding in changing my view of love just by being you.”

Minho’s eyes blink rapidly as he looks at you, his parted lips making him look like a confused child before they close. He hums, nodding as a small smile spreads on his lips, which quickly grows bigger and bigger until he’s basically giggling. He hides his face behind his hand, clearing his throat. You feel warmth spread across your chest at the sight. You’re sure if the lights were brighter, you’d be able to see his ears turning red.

You shake your head with a chuckle. The mood has suddenly become a bit too emotional, and you still find yourself running away from these things. However, you were proud of your progress tonight. Talking about love and your past — especially regarding your ex-boyfriends — was already a huge step for you.

You hope Minho knows he’s part of the reason you’re able to take this step in the first place.

“Okay, your turn.” You sit up on the bed, the white comforter pooling on your lap. “I’m curious too, y’know. You’re such a love enthusiast,” you tease him with a grin, earning you a chuckle from Minho, who throws his head back. “Tell me about your romantic experiences.”

He mirrors you and sits up on his bed. “Experience. I’ve only had one girlfriend,” he corrects you, “We met on the first day of high school and began dating the year after that, when we were sixteen. We were together until I was just about to turn twenty-one, so…” he trails off with a deep sigh. “Yeah, it was quite the long first relationship.”

“My five relationships combined didn’t last as long as that.” You click your tongue, and Minho lets out a breathy laugh. “Why did you two break up after being together for so long?” You blurt out before you can process the words inside your head. Annoyed with your own self, you scrunch up your face. You really chose today to be an idiot. “If that’s okay for me to ask! Sorry for being nosy, I’m just— I guess I’m curious.”

Minho smiles at you, a fond smile he always shoots your way whenever you are word-vomiting. Much like your other friends, he had quickly adapted to your habit of spilling out words before thinking about them.

“It’s a bit of a long story. Basically, she wanted a quiet and simple life in the countryside, so I did that for her,” he explains, shrugging dismissively. So that was the reason he had moved to Gurye after finishing school. “I began saving up money at eighteen with my job at the convenience store while she gave piano lessons to the kids in our neighborhood, and we moved on her twentieth birthday. I figured I could just do programming jobs from home, anyway, so I completely gave up on my plans to attend university…” Minho trails off, his voice all but a whisper at the end of the sentence. He shakes his head, a bitter chuckle leaving his lips as he continues, “I kind of wanna kick myself in the face for that now. It fucking sucks to have started university so late, but it was my own decision. I guess you say stupid shit when you’re nervous, and I do stupid shit when I’m in love.”

You had never met someone who would abandon so much of themselves for the person they loved. It made Minho even more admirable to you. However, even though it was his own decision, he clearly came to regret it. People often say love is all about compromises, and you couldn’t help but feel like Minho had been the only one to give up anything in this scenario.

“Were your parents okay with you two making such a drastic move?” You question, your curiosity bubbling inside your chest.

Minho scoffs. “Of course they weren’t. Especially my dad. But we were nearing our twenties, so there wasn’t much they could do to stop us.”

He drums his fingers on his thighs, and you wonder if this subject brought back sour memories — or maybe even good ones he just didn’t like remembering because they had become part of the past. You want to tell him it’s okay if he doesn’t want to talk about it any longer, but he’s continuing his story before you can speak.

“We adopted Dori and left a week later. We were pretty much broke. All we could afford was a small cottage that hadn’t been renovated in over a decade, but we were happy,” Minho’s voice is soft as he speaks, a smile forming on his lips as he stares ahead, almost as if he’s reliving those moments in his head. “We talked about growing old together and raising our kids in that cottage. And we — god, looking back, this was so stupid it’s fucking funny,” He chuckled, shaking his head and raising his gaze to meet yours. “We were actually trying to get pregnant. We barely had money to feed Dori and ourselves, yet it still crushed us every time that test read negative.”

You feel your expression change, a blend of astonishment and admiration washing over you. They must’ve truly been in love. You felt a slight pang of hurt and envy run through your body; it truly was so easy for other people when it came to love.

“I’m sorry it didn’t work out,” you lament, although you’re not sure if you’re talking about the pregnancy or the entire relationship.

Minho shakes his head, scrunching his nose. “Don’t feel bad, it was a blessing in disguise. I can’t imagine how the fuck we would ever manage to raise a baby at that time.”

“It seems like you two had the perfect relationship.” You force out a smile, waging war against your bitter jealousy.

“It was perfect, until it wasn’t,” Minho shrugs dismissively, “We began to fight a lot after a while. Haneul would always get upset at me for not doing things the way she thought I should do them, down to replying in a way that didn’t fit with what she had hoped I would say. And I was the same, always getting frustrated when she disagreed with me, even if it was about something silly like what to have for dinner. We used to be able to talk it out and come to an agreement in the past — it wasn’t for nothing that we were together for so long — but being in that little cottage, just us two all the time, it became suffocating.”

“Is that why you two broke up?”

Minho nods. “We realized we were merely playing house. Neither of us was happy anymore,” he explains, a soft laugh escaping his lips. “It was like we each had a script inside our heads of what the other should say or how they should act. It wasn’t healthy anymore, so we mutually decided to end things before they got worse.”

Your fingers fiddle with a loose thread on the white cover. You had always been envious of this type of relationship, but you never thought to think about the fact that they can also come to an end. It always seemed to you that your relationships never worked because they weren’t perfect, like the relationships you saw in books or movies — like the one Minho had described with his ex-girlfriend.

You never once rationalized that even perfect things can ebb away. That nothing lasts forever, even if it seems utterly ideal.

“I know how terrible breakups are,” you tell him. “I can only imagine how much worse it must’ve been to you two after so many years together.”

Minho shakes his head with a smile. “I never really felt hurt by it. It was such a perfect breakup she even let me keep Dori without going through a custody battle,” he jokes, raising his eyebrows at you.

“How can it not have hurt you?” You let out an incredulous laugh. “You were in love, planning to start a family, and you tell me it didn’t hurt when it ended? That’s bullshit, Minho.”

He looks up at the ceiling, like he’s trying to find the words to explain to you. He hums. “Well, I loved Haneul. I loved her so very much, with every fiber of my being. She was my first love. My mom once said we were probably a couple in another life as well, and I fucking loved that,” He chuckles, “The idea that someone was destined for me and I was destined for them, that we were fated to find each other and be together across lifetimes.”

“Like soulmates?” You ask.

He nods. “Soulmates, yes. That’s what we were. And, after we broke up, I realized maybe people’s understanding of soulmates is wrong. At least to me,” He shrugs.

You let out a chuckle. He really turned a terrible situation into a chance to reevaluate his beliefs. It was the most Minho thing you had ever heard.

“How are people understanding it wrong, then?” You question him, resting your chin on the palm of your hand and looking at him. Minho mirrors your actions, a grin etched onto his lips. 

“Well, for starters, you can have many soulmates in one lifetime.” You furrow your brows, opening your mouth to ask him more questions, but he quickly adds, “For example, Haneul was my soulmate and there’s no doubt about it in my mind. But it ended, because it was time for it to end. I learned everything I had to learn with her, and she did the same. We couldn’t grow together anymore, so there was no point in staying together.”

Biting your lip, you nod. “I never thought of it that way. You ask anyone and they’ll tell you that a soulmate is unique.”

“It may be so to some people, but I find that way of thinking a bit unfair,” he shrugs. “Haneul found someone new. Wouldn’t it be unfair for me to say her new relationship is inferior to ours simply because we were soulmates? We were soulmates, but our time to be together has passed and she’s with the soulmate she’s supposed to be right now.”

You hum, tapping your fingers against your cheek. “I guess it does make sense.”

He shrugs, feigning smugness. “I am quite the smart man.”

“What about you?” You question, smiling at him, “Have you ever found a new soulmate after that relationship?”

Minho clears his throat, his gaze shifting to look at where his sock-clad feet poked out from underneath the comforter. You could swear you see a tiny smile on his lips.

“I think I did,” He answers with a questioning lilt. “There were some signs, and a lot of things that aligned.” His gaze lifts once more to meet your eyes as he continues, “Makes me think maybe I’ve found her.”

As you take in his words, jealousy rears its ugly head, the feeling almost swallowing you whole. You gnaw on your bottom lip. The way Minho made you feel at times was questionable at best, but you chalk it all up to your jealous nature. You’d always gotten jealous when your friends found new friendships or when they started relationships.

However, that feeling was a bit different from the one currently making you want to bite your lip until it bled out of sheer and petty jealousy.

You let out a heavy sigh, pushing all those thoughts into a neat little box inside your head and locking them up.

“You’re really lucky,” you tell him, and Minho cocks an eyebrow. “That’s why you think love can only be good, because your only experience with it was long-lasting and good until the very end. I’d much rather have love fizzle out than have it end in a way that ended me as well. That’s how it’s always been with me, and I guess that’s why I came to hate love a little bit.”

Minho smiles at you, a genuine smile that reaches his brown eyes. “Well, sometimes love lasts forever,” he asserts, “So you shouldn’t think about how it’s going to end.”

You can feel the pinwheel inside your chest spinning, causing your heart to skip a beat and your cheeks to blush pink. Forcing out a chuckle, you lie on your bed and pull the covers up to your nose.

“You’re back to your hopeless romantic ways.”

“I never stopped,” He corrects you. He lies down as well, facing you, his hand reaching out to turn off the lamp that sat on the bedside table. “Even when I thought you had a boyfriend,” Minho continues, “I was still able to be a hopeless romantic.”

You feel your eyes widen at his words, thanking the darkness that covers you both as confusion and shock swim in your eyes. Did Minho subtly admit he liked you? Were you reading too much into things? Why did this not scare you? It should scare you, should make you terrified, as this is the very thing you’ve been running away from.

You were probably over-analyzing his words.

But why did you hope that wasn’t the case?

The two of you wake up early, hitting the streets of Tokyo immediately after getting dressed. Minho’s list definitely made things easier, with you two hopping from place to place before crossing them out one by one on his phone. Your favorite so far had been the cat café you two went to for breakfast, where you spent the entire hour watching Minho petting and playing with the kittens, the smile on your lips so fond that it probably made you look stupid.

But as you walk around Inokashira Park, that quickly drops to second place on your mental list. It was a beautiful place, especially in the late afternoon sun. As soon as you arrived, Minho took your hand in his without a word. It was unexpected, to say the least, but you were even more surprised to find yourself liking the gesture. You squeezed his hand, smiling at him, before lacing your fingers together.

Your heart was racing so fast you were certain that damn pinwheel brought along a friend today.

After walking around for a bit, Minho abruptly stopped, letting go of your hand and moving to stand behind you. You furrowed your brows as his hands came to cover your eyes. With his lips incredibly close to your ears, he whispered, “I have a surprise. It’s a place that wasn’t on the list. A museum I think you’ll like.”

You felt goosebumps rise all over your body at the sound of his low voice coupled with his breath tickling your skin. You silently thanked the cold weather — had you not been wearing long sleeves, Minho would have seen the effect he had on you, and you would’ve had no other choice but to throw yourself in front of a taxi on the way back to the hotel.

The two of you waddled awkwardly, Minho still standing behind you with his hands over your eyes. He giggled the whole way to your destination. You were too immersed in not focusing on how his body brushed up against yours with every step you took to even think about laughing.

His broad chest so warm against your back, his arms wrapped around you, his lips grazing your neck once as he bent down to whisper something about the museum being just around the corner, and his lower body continuously brushing and rubbing against your ass as you two walked. You had to fight the urge to push your body against his every time that happened, wondering if that would be enough to get him hard.

After Minho’s supposed confession last night, your mind had truly thrown every bit of worry and shame you felt about being attracted to him out the window.

It felt almost liberating, being able to say fuck it and simply feel.

So you were attracted to Minho; why should it be a big deal? You shouldn't deprive yourself of these silly experiences just because love scares you.

Maybe being scared was okay sometimes. Maybe it was worth it for the right people.

Just as your mind was running wild with thoughts of Minho’s body pressed up against yours, his voice whispered in your ear again. You had arrived, he announced, removing his hands from your eyes.

As your eyes adjusted to the light, you made out the words on a wooden sign before you. Minho had taken you to the Ghibli Museum. Before you could stop yourself, you were throwing your arms around his neck with a gasp.

You could just kiss him at that moment. That was how happy you were.

After walking around the museum with a smile engraved onto your lips, your cheeks hurt in the best way possible. Minho hurried you as you looked through the overly expensive gift shop, reminding you that the swan paddle boats would be closing soon. You whined but ultimately had no choice but to leave the shop as he grabbed your hand and pulled you toward the exit. Mourning the loss of a Soot Sprite plush perfect for your collection, you grumbled to Minho about how he had no heart as you two ran across the park.

You made it just in time, being the last ones in line on the pier. Minho insisted on paying for your tickets, and you agreed only after he explained it would be your compensation for the loss of your precious plushie.

And now you sit beside him on a swan paddle boat, failing miserably at containing your giggles as Minho adjusts his life jacket.

“You know,” He starts with a dramatic sigh, “You’re not gonna be laughing if we crash and you drown.”

You poke his arm, making him look at you just as a smile spreads across his lips. “I’m only laughing ‘cause you look real cute.”

You begin to paddle, and it is surprisingly easy — especially because Minho is the one guiding the boat with a steering wheel. The scenery is quite dull because of the cold season, with most trees already bare of leaves and the sky a blend of pale blue and white.

“I wish it was spring,” Minho speaks beside you as if he’s read your thoughts. “The cherry blossoms are fucking gorgeous.”

You look over at him, his eyes fixed ahead as he steers the boat around the pond. His glasses reflect the pale sky and obscure his eyes, but you’re sure he’s blinking rapidly like he usually does whenever he’s focused.

“Did you come here with your ex-girlfriend in spring?” You blurt out.

Minho’s lips stretch into a grin as he turns to face you.

“No,” he answers simply. “But I want to come with you.”

It’s only then you realize he had been doing most of the work paddling, as he easily controls the speed at which the boat glides across the water, slowing down until you two are stopped at the edge of the pond.

Your mind races, but not as hard as your heart does.

“With me?”

“With you.”

His eyes are fixed on yours, and his left hand grips the steering wheel tightly. You part your lips, but only silence is stuck in your throat. Drawing yourself out of the impromptu staring contest the two of you had gotten into, your eyes shift down to stare at your purse which lay across your lap.

You softly utter the only two words your mind can conjure up. “Why me?”

“Because I like you,” Minho’s voice is also quiet. You hear him shuffling beside you, turning his body so he fully faces you. “I know you’re scared, and you feel like you’re protecting yourself, but I’m—” He cuts himself off abruptly, and your eyes shoot up to find him biting his lip, his brows furrowed. He lets out a sigh. “I like you so much I think I might implode if I do nothing about it.”

Your breath hitched audibly. There is still a part of you that’s screaming out run away, this is terrifying, you’re on your way to another heart-wrenching breakup — but that part has become so minuscule, so insignificant now, it feels like nothing but muffled background noise inside your head. Because a much bigger part of you is begging for you to just say, “Then do something about it.”

And he does.

Minho’s hand leaves the wheel and gingerly touches your cheek, his thumb brushing against your skin before he closes the distance between you. It isn’t the first time you kiss Minho, but it is certainly the first time your entire being is fully enveloped in only him; from the way his slightly chapped lips still felt so soft against your own to how his strong hand finds your waist and pulls you closer to him.

And his taste. Minho coaxes your mouth open with his tongue and licks into it, your senses being taken over by the taste of the watermelon candy he’d been eating all day until you’re positively drunk on him. Your heart racing and your hands shaking like a teenager having their first kiss.

You go to grab his shirt, desperate to pull him even closer to you, but your hands collide with the damn life jacket he’s wearing. You whine into the kiss, annoyed, and Minho only chuckles against your lips. He bites your lower lip, pulling softly before releasing it and pressing another kiss to your pout.

“I take back what I said, the life jacket isn’t cute,” you mumble against his lips. His smile grows, and his lips crash against yours again, his hands tangling in your hair.

He groans into the kiss, barely pulling away before whispering, “Don’t wanna stop kissing you.”

You hum. “Well, you can kiss me anytime now.”

Minho’s lips spread into a grin, and he closes the small distance between you for one last kiss before he pulls away, your noses brushing. His eyes are dark yet soft, as if longing and affection had melted together.

“I want to be with you,” He says, “But I want you to think about it before you say anything because I know how scared you are of love. And if by the end of our trip I haven’t given you enough reasons to give me a chance, I’ll let you go and move on with my life. If you want to stay friends, I’ll happily do that. And if you never want to see me again, I’ll also respect that.”

Your heart swells with his words because Minho is the complete antithesis of everything your ex-boyfriends taught you that men were.

And, for the first time in so long, you feel the kind of nervousness that’s nothing but good. The kind that leaves you with trembling hands, a racing heart, and a dizzy head. The kind that only love can provide.

Despite his request, you’re eager to answer him right then and there, but just as you’re about to speak, the sky roars and dark clouds gather above. You jump in your seat at the sound, and Minho’s hands instinctively wrap around your shoulders and squeeze. You smile, simply nodding your head and giving his lips a small kiss.

Minho struggles a bit, but he’s eventually able to turn the paddle boat around, and you two begin to paddle back toward the pier. The light rain quickly becomes heavy raindrops drumming on the roof of the boat, and you dread the walk back to the hotel as neither of you thought to bring an umbrella.

“Y'know,” Minho starts. “There’s a myth here in Japan that says if you ride this boat with a girlfriend, then you’ll break up soon. I kinda always believed that.”

You let out a chuckle. “Really?”

He hums, nodding his head. “So I’m choosing to also believe that if you ride it with someone you like, they will become your girlfriend soon.”

Minho turns to look at you with a smile as you stop at the pier, removing his life jacket and exiting the boat without another word. You bite the inside of your cheek in a failed attempt at holding back a smile. Minho helps you out of the boat, his hand taking yours and pulling you toward him gently.

You two run back to the hotel, Minho holding you close to him with his hand around your waist. The streets are mostly empty as people squeeze under bus stops and shop awnings to shelter from the rain, and it almost feels like you and Minho are the only people in Tokyo that night.

You two giggle the whole way to the hotel. Even when you are struck with the realization that the power has shut off on the entire street upon arriving, you simply turn to each other and laugh even more.

You clumsily manage to take a brief shower in the darkness, changing into your sleep clothes as quickly as you can. You realize with a grimace that if your room was cold before, with the shitty hotel heater on, it’s basically turned into an icebox now.

Wrapping yourself up in your comforter, you shiver with a groan just as Minho walks out of the bathroom.

“Bet you miss that shitty heater now, huh?” He jokes, and you faintly make out his silhouette in the dim light of the moon coming from the window.

You let out another groan. “I'm gonna freeze to death tonight. I've made peace with that. Thaw me with a hairdryer in the morning, please.”

Minho chuckles, sitting on his bed as he checks his phone. You make out his features in the moonlight coming from the window, and he’s wearing another sweater, black with more cats printed on it.

Such a cozy, warm-looking sweater. You curse yourself inwardly for only packing t-shirts to sleep.

As he locks his phone, an idea hits you, and your words are faster than your thoughts — as they always seem to be whenever you’re around Minho.

“Can I lay with you for a bit?” You ask, “Just for a bit, until I get warm? My bed is right under this damn window, and I don’t have any sweaters I can sleep in, and I know I joked about making peace with freezing but—”

Minho cuts you off by calling out your name with a chuckle. “It's okay. You don’t need to make up a thousand excuses. I'm cold, too,” He says simply, scooting to the side to make room for you in his bed. “Come here.”

You smile, ripping the covers from your body quickly like a band-aid and all but jumping from your mattress to his. Minho instructs you to lie on the left side of the bed, facing the wall. You furrow your brows.

“Why?”

He shrugs. “It’s like the sidewalk thing. So I can protect you if a serial killer comes into our room.”

“Oh, so a serial killer’s gonna come into our room?” You ask, a teasing lilt in your voice as you scoot on the bed and slip under the comforter. 

“Well, I—” Minho stammers, pausing with a sigh. He removes his glasses and places them on the bedside table before he continues, “I don’t know, okay? I just… wanna take care of you in every way possible. Even in this weird scenario that my mind made up.”

His words slip out of his lips quickly, much like yours do when you’re nervous and can’t make yourself stop talking. You wonder if your habit is rubbing off on him, and you can’t help but smile.

As Minho settles into bed, you feel your body stiffen up. The two of you lay on your backs next to each other in the cramped bed, and you feel like you can’t move. Hyunjin was the first guy you ever slept next to, and even then, it was after you two had already had sex, so there was no room for feeling awkward. With Minho, everything feels so new. If kissing him had made your hands shake, laying next to him makes your whole body tremble.

You lay like that for a while, watching as the thunder lights up the ceiling until Minho turns to lie on his side.

“Wouldn’t we get warmer if we cuddled?” He trails off in a whisper, clearing his throat after his words leave his mouth. 

You open your mouth to answer but know you’ll only end up word-vomiting again with how nervous you feel, so you simply nod, turning so you’re facing Minho as well.

His arms quickly find your waist, pulling you closer to him until your noses are touching, and you feel his breath on your lips as he lets out a sigh. Before you can make sense of what’s happening, Minho presses a slow, open-mouthed kiss to your lips, making your mind go hazy. You two stare at each other for a beat, your lips agape and eyes wandering through each other’s features until he breaks the silence.

“You make me nervous,” he whispers, taking your hand and guiding it towards his chest. You feel his heart beating quickly through the thick fabric of his sweater. “In the best way possible.”

You smile, whispering back, “You make me nervous, too.”

Clutching at the fabric of his sweater, you pull him closer to you, slotting your lips together once more. Minho’s hands hesitate, his left hand barely touching your back before he changes his mind and grazes your shoulder with his touch, only to settle for cupping your cheek. You smile into the kiss, taking his hand and placing it firmly on your waist. He grips the fabric of your shirt just as you did and brings your body flush against his.

The kiss is hurried, as if you two will be forced apart tomorrow and this is your only chance to feel each other. Minho licks the seam of your lips, his tongue slipping into your mouth as you gasp. His firm grip on your waist, his body pressed against yours so tightly that you can feel his heartbeat thumping against your chest, and how with every stroke of his tongue, he devours you almost greedily — it’s downright impossible to keep the whine that forms in your throat from slipping out, Minho’s mouth swallowing the muffled sound.

And then he’s pulling away, and you’re left chasing his lips. He lets out a breathy chuckle at that.

“Let’s go to sleep, hm?” He suggests, his voice breathless. You can’t help but wonder if you practically moaning while simply kissing him had made him uncomfortable, and you inwardly berate yourself, mortification washing over you.

So you only nod, turning to face the wall so you can properly cuddle this time. Minho wraps an arm around your waist, and you wait for him to pull you closer, but he never does. You furrow your brows. Was it that bad? You can’t be faulted for reacting like you did, especially with how he kissed you. So you take it into your own hands to shift closer to his body. Your lips part as you feel his hard member pressing against your lower back.

Oh. 

So that’s what’s going on.

You bite back a grin, feeling Minho tense up behind you.

“And here I thought you were like a romantic lead in a PG-13 anime,” you joke, smiling as he chuckles, clearly more at ease. 

He uses the hand that had been resting against your stomach to pull you even closer to him, pressing his body against yours. “I am romantic,” He whispers, lips close to your ear. You only then realize he’s hovering over you. “But I’m still human.”

You fight back the urge to shudder at how his voice drops an octave, all low and soft, and, god, how his breath grazes your neck.

You search your brain for something to say but come up empty. Being nervous has rendered you speechless for the first time in your life.

“Let’s sleep now, okay?” Minho presses a quick kiss on your cheek. “I’ll lie far—”

“I can help you,” you blurt out, turning to face him. Going to sleep is the last thing you want right now. “If you want.”

His eyes wander across your face as he pulls on his bottom lip. “I don’t want to rush things.”

“There are ways to do this that aren’t… rushing.”

Minho hums, but his eyes are now fixed on your lips. You move to lie on your back, and he slowly climbs on top of you.

“As long as it’s okay with you, I don’t care what we do,” he whispers. You smile, pushing his black hair away from his face with your fingers.

“It’s more than okay with me,” You answer simply, using your hand on his hair to guide him down into yet another kiss. 

You can feel him still hesitating, so you grab a fistful of that silly sweater of his and pull him closer to you until your bodies are flush against each other.

“Can I touch you?” You ask, breaking the kiss. Minho nods hastily.

“Yes, please,” he groans, “I’m gonna die if you don’t.”

With a breathy chuckle, you move your hand between your two bodies, cupping him through his sweatpants; he’s even harder now, and you subconsciously bite your lip. He closes his eyes, his left hand resting on your waist before squeezing lightly as he hides his face in the crook of your neck with a shaky sigh. It might simply be because it’s your first time being intimate together, but Minho’s timidness is genuinely endearing to you.

Your palm grinds against him gingerly, and his body trembles under your touch. His hand travels from your waist toward your lower stomach, and you let out a quiet gasp as his fingers toy with the hem of your shirt. He lifts his head off your neck, his face so close to yours you can feel his unsteady breathing on your lips.

“Can I touch you, too?” He whispers, and you nod a bit too eagerly. 

“If you don’t, I think I’ll die too.”

Minho grins, his head dipping lower until his lips are pressed against yours, but he doesn’t kiss you. You’d be lying if you said finding Minho so hard after only kissing you hadn’t turned you on — kissing him alone also made you more aroused than you were willing to admit. But you were more than ready to go to sleep without doing anything about it after offering to help him, so the fact that he wants to do the same for you makes your head spin. This was not on your bingo card of things that could happen during this trip.

He pulls your shirt up slightly, only enough for him to slip his hand inside your sweatpants. He hesitates twice before cupping you through your underwear. His dark eyes meet yours, whispering against your lips, “You’re fucking soaking through your panties, and you weren’t gonna tell me?”

You gasp at his words, clenching around nothing. Wasn’t he shy just two minutes ago? Your mouth opens to answer him, but your brain is far too cloudy to form any coherent sentence, so you settle on a nod. He hums, pressing a kiss to your agape lips.

Once you feel his thumb tentatively brush against your clit through the thin fabric, you find the courage to slip your hand inside the waistband of his sweatpants, your fingers immediately brushing against his member. Minho shudders at the touch, his eyes still fixed on yours.

Your brows shoot up at the fact that he had foregone wearing boxers, and he chuckles lightly at your reaction.

“I never wear underwear to bed, so don’t think I was trying to seduce you,” he jokes.

“Too late,” you hum, “I was seduced the moment I saw your bright orange cat sweater.”

Minho grins, sucking your lower lip as he pushes your panties to the side painfully slowly, his middle finger gliding from your entrance toward your clit and spreading your arousal. With a sigh, you bring one leg to wrap around his waist, and he adjusts himself so he’s properly hovering over you. You take this opportunity to slide his sweatpants down his hips, his hard cock finally free from its confines. He groans low in his throat, his tongue suddenly licking into your open mouth as his right hand intertwines with your left, your fingers locking together. He presses your clasped hands onto the mattress beside your head.

Your hand now glides through his length, the palm of your hand beginning to rub at the head of his cock and Minho sucks in a breath, breaking the kiss, his eyes remaining closed. Pressing your thumb to the slit, you gather as much precum as you can and spread it through his member. You quickly find that it’s not enough, wanting it wetter and messier and—

Minho whines as you stop touching him, eyes shooting open. Bringing your hand to your lips, you lick a stripe on your palm and let a glob of spit fall on it before finding his cock again, wet both with your saliva and his precum as you begin to stroke him gingerly. With a quiet moan, Minho’s hips buck up at the touch and he kisses your lips again. You giggle into the kiss, inwardly thanking Hyunjin for teaching you that guys love sloppy shit like this and, in turn, making you realize you do too.

You avert your eyes from his intense gaze as his finger moves to find your entrance, pushing in slowly before moving at a steady pace.

He squeezes your hand. “Look at me,” his voice is all but a whisper, low and hurried. You turn to lock your eyes on his once more, immediately biting your lips to stop a moan from slipping out of your lips as his thumb begins to rub your clit in circular motions, and he slips another finger inside of your aching cunt. It was getting increasingly difficult to keep yourself from vocally begging him not to stop.

You focus on your own hand as you stroke his cock, your steady pace gradually quickening. Minho’s pace mirrors yours, and soon the small room fills with the noise of his finger swiftly pumping in and out of you mixed with the sound of your hand stroking him.

“What do you like?” Minho asks suddenly, his breath hitching as you tighten your fist around his cock. Your mind is far too clouded by desire and pleasure to fully comprehend, so you hum, your brows furrowing. He leans in, pressing his forehead against yours with a quiet moan and curling his fingers inside you, causing your eyes to shut tightly and a whimper to escape your closed lips. “Look at me, baby,” he repeats himself, his voice firm and his shy demeanor having completely shifted. You slowly open your eyes. “What do you like? I — fuck,” He curses as your hand twists on the head of his cock. “Wanna make you feel good, tell me.”

You’re definitely not used to being vocal about what you want or like during sex; your ex-boyfriends always too selfish, and Hyunjin too confident for you to even have had the opportunity to do so. Coupled with just how good you felt, you know you won’t possibly be able to speak a word without moaning the way you’re trying so hard to avoid. You settle for guiding his hand, which was tangled in yours, under your shirt. Minho immediately massages your breast, his thumb caressing your nipple as his eyes find yours once more.

You feel as if his gaze is setting you ablaze, his eyes boring into you. It felt as if all his desire was accumulated in his dark eyes, clearly visible in how he watches you like he’s drinking in every last drop of you through his stare. You’ve never had someone look at you like this before; it makes you feel so wanted, so desired, as if the only thing Minho could ever need in this moment is you. That alone makes your body tremble, your left hand holding onto his shoulder for purchase as you feel you might float away at any second.

If you were told a couple of hours ago that something as simple as having Minho’s fingers inside you would have you so euphoric, you most definitely would have laughed.

Minho groans into your open mouth, his breathing heavy and his brows drawn together tightly. You force your lips shut once more as his thumb rubs your bundle of nerves more hastily. Your hand leaves his shoulder to tangle in his black hair, futilely attempting to tug him even closer to you before you kiss his agape lips that spill out groans and sighs like a mantra.

It’s almost all-consuming. His fingers inside of you, the warmth of his hand on your breast, his cock pulsating beneath your touch, his hot breaths that fill your lungs as he sighs into your kiss, and his eyes — his damn eyes that look at you as if he wants to eat you whole.

You finally allow yourself to moan as you feel your orgasm building up, whimpering his name against his lips as your strokes on his cock turn messy and desperate among the copious amounts of precum. Minho growls, pulling your hand from his hair — his grip on your wrist so firm it stings a little — before he pins you down to the mattress, fingers messily intertwining with yours again.

This time, you’re unable to restrain your whimper at his actions; Minho had always been gentle and sweet, something as simple as him pinning you down to the bed has you clenching around his fingers. This duality of his you just discovered is something that stirs up curiosity inside of you.

“I’m gonna come,” He announces with a sigh, his hand squeezing yours. You can only nod as you melt around his fingers, your whole body trembling. Minho soon follows, his cum spilling into your hand and your shirt, a low guttural sound leaving his throat.

His eyes only leave yours as he leans down to connect your lips again, giving you small kisses before a stifled laugh escapes him. You furrow your brows, and Minho grins.

“Sorry for getting your shirt dirty,” He mumbles against your lips, the two of you unwilling to move for the time being.

You shake your head with a chuckle. Although you cringe slightly as you feel the fabric of your shirt stick to your stomach.

“It’s okay.”

Minho shifts on top of you, and you only then realize his fingers remain inside of you. Your body jolts faintly at the stimulation, his name falling from your lips in the form of a whine. He grins at you again, all lopsided and handsome, before bringing his hand to his lips. You watch with agape lips as his tongue flicks out to lap at his fingers before sucking on them with a hum, his eyes locked onto yours once more.

Once again with this newfound duality of his. He’s pure romance and gentlemanly behavior, but seemingly so alluring and shameless in bed. The way he looks at you alone makes you clench around nothing as if you didn’t come mere minutes ago. And it’s such a simple act — you can’t count on one hand the number of times you watched as Hyunjin licked his fingers clean after being inside of you — but the contrast of his calm and endearing everyday personality and him suddenly pinning you to the bed or licking your cum off his fingers while looking into your eyes makes this entirely different.

You would’ve never expected this from Minho, and it makes your brain stir up with thoughts of what he would be like while eating you out or while fucking you. Would he pin you to the bed again or pull your hair, or maybe—

The sound of him clearing his throat interrupts you from your thoughts, and you only now realize you had been staring at the ceiling while fantasizing about Minho fucking you. Great.

Once your eyes meet, he’s quick to avert his gaze. “I will, uh, pay to wash your shirt when we — when we get back,” Minho stumbles over his words, his eyes now fixed on your shoulder. “If you want. But, like, I got it dirty, so…” He trails off, and you purse your lips to muffle the giggle that bubbled up your throat as it seems all the confidence he had only minutes ago had dissipated into dust and left his body.

He was back to his usual self. You can’t help but smile as you realize you adore any version of Minho.

He pushes himself off of you, muttering that he’ll be back before disappearing into the small bathroom. You remove your soiled shirt, wiping your hand on it, only to blanche at the sight of the logo printed on the fabric. It’s one of Hyunjin’s shirts that you had stolen ages ago. You mumble a string of apologies to him as you pull the covers off your body. After discarding it on your bed, you change into the first t-shirt you fish out of your backpack, worried Minho might come into the room and see your naked chest — as ludicrous as that was, seeing as he was knuckles deep inside of you less than twenty minutes ago.

Minho returns to the bedroom just as you’re closing the zipper on your bag. He silently takes your hand in his and wipes it with a towel, his head lowered as his eyes focus on his actions. You let out a breathy chuckle.

“There’s really nothing there anymore,” you inform him. “I wiped most of your cum on my shirt.” You nod toward the crumpled-up fabric thrown across the bed. Minho’s mouth opens, then closes, then opens again. He lets out a small noise, nodding his head slowly before ultimately pressing his lips together. Under the faint moonlight that lights up the room, you almost miss how his cheeks dust a shade of pink. You smile, pressing a kiss to his nose. Minho hums, smiling back at you and dropping the towel on top of your shirt.

Soon, you find yourself back in bed with him, Minho pulling you into his chest, his hands now offering you pleasure by gingerly massaging your scalp. You are almost asleep — listening to his heartbeat through his sweater, smiling at the soft snores that escape his parted lips — when it dawned on you.

You notice just how different being with Minho had been. How kissing him alone made your hands shake, how even without being fully intimate, the way you felt with him tonight was incomparable.

Minho’s words from months ago about how sex with someone you love eclipses the feeling of sex with any other person linger in your memory. You hum, a smile on your lips as your eyes flutter closed again.

Before they shoot open.

Because holy shit.

If it felt that way with Minho, it can only mean you’ve fallen for him.

Awakening to the sound of the heater’s soft hum, you feel Minho’s arm tightly around your waist, keeping your body pressed against his. His gentle breathing brushes against the nape of your neck, and you cautiously turn your head, careful not to wake him, only to be greeted by his tender eyes already gazing at you with a soft smile. Cuddling with Minho is another thing that feels different. You feel safe, adored from how he holds you to the way his eyes look at you.

As he realizes you’re also awake, he suddenly turns to lie on his back, staring at the ceiling as his ears slowly turn a light shade of red. You frown, chuckling a bit at his actions, before settling yourself across his chest.

“The power came back a while after you fell asleep,” he explains.

You giggle as you assume maybe he’s shy because of what happened last night. But your smile fades as your mind begins to overthink, your subconscious screaming that maybe you should feel shy, embarrassed. Weren’t you too easy? Letting him touch you like that after just a few kisses. Does Minho think you came into bed with him for that reason?

You think back to the last boyfriend you had, who berated you for how ‘whorish’ it had been when you asked to have sex with him instead of waiting for him to initiate it. And how your first boyfriend would tell you — every chance he got — that you acted like a slut, touching him as if you knew it would make him have sex with you. How, at the end of your relationship, he told you maybe you acted that way because you knew that sex was all you were good for. How another ex had laughed as he told you that even though you went through so many guys, you still managed to be a terrible fuck, and that was the reason he had to cheat on you.

There were also the murmurs around your school whenever you started a new relationship. Another one? She’s boy hopping so much she’s gonna get through our entire class in less than a year. Some girls just can’t stand to be alone, it’s kind of sad.

At some point, you had detangled yourself from Minho, now lying on your side and looking out the window. You never understood why so many people thought that way. You had five boyfriends from fifteen to eighteen, and in each of these relationships, you were either cheated on or broken up with in a less-than-pleasant way. But you did have the awful habit of jumping into relationships with little thought, often because you felt incomplete without a romantic partner — as romantic as high school relationships can be, anyway. Being single and content for almost four years now, you were proud to have worked on that.

But you still can’t shake off the feeling that maybe you were a bit too… forward. You were single, sure, but you were quick to jump at the opportunity to have Hyunjin as a fuck buddy. Perhaps people were right about that.

“Is everything okay?” Minho’s voice pulls you away from your racing thoughts. You offer him a tight-lipped smile, nodding.

“Yeah, I just zoned out.”

Sitting upright on the bed, you stretch with a sigh. Minho takes your hand before you can realize it, placing it on his chest and gently playing with your fingers, his eyes still glued to the ceiling. You gnaw on your bottom lip, pulling at the skin until it stings.

“I’m sorry if I was too forward last night,” you blurt out. Minho’s gaze shifts to focus on you, confusion swimming in his brown eyes and his hands halting around yours. Oh god, why did you say that?

“Forward?” The question trails off his lips, his eyebrows coming together in a frown.

With a sigh, you grimace at your own words. “Yeah, forward, like I was throwing myself at you. I’m sorry if it came off that way. I swear I’m not…”

“You’re not…?”

“You know what I mean, Minho,” you mumble, but his eyes remain swarmed with confusion. 

“I really don’t.”

You roll your eyes in exasperation, annoyed not at him but at yourself for having brought this up in the first place.

“You know, Minho,” you groan, “Forward, like, slutty. Like I asked to come to your bed just so you would fuck me.”

His expression softens, his eyes widening. He sits up as well, his hand still clutching yours.

“Why the fuck would I think that?” He asks matter-of-factly. “What happened last night was completely natural. We made out, we got horny, we took care of it together. You didn’t even ask me to touch you, I did it because I was dying to do it. You weren’t forward — you weren’t slutty.”

You feel the heavy veil of worry lift off your shoulders at his words. It was definitely going to take a while for you to work on that aspect of your trauma. This had never been an issue with Hyunjin since you were pursuing nothing more than a sexual relationship with him — things were different with Minho.

Minho was the complete opposite.

After countless moments of your heart racing and your hands trembling because of him, you finally confess to yourself that your affection for Minho extends well beyond platonic feelings.

With a small smile, you slowly nod your head. “Sorry for bringing this up, I just… didn’t want you to think badly of me.”

Minho smiles, placing a kiss on the back of your hand. “That wouldn’t have made me think badly of you. I’m not some Victorian man who thinks women should be burned at the stake for showing their ankles,” he chuckles, and you bite back a laugh. “Even if you had been slutty, so what? I’d like that just as much.”

You playfully hit his shin under the comforter as he wiggles his eyebrows at you.

Minho was unquestionably different.

“We gotta get to the airport soon,” he says with a sigh, stretching his arms over his head, carrying your hand along the way. “I had to book the earliest flight I could to save up some money.”

With a frown, you retrieve your phone from under your pillow and check for the time: seven-thirty a.m. You feel a pang of guilt as you recall how you are essentially on this trip for free.

“Why didn’t Chan help with the tickets?”

Minho bites the inside of his cheek before his lips stretch into a barely-there grin. “Chan was never coming to this trip,” he blurts out. You feel your lips fall agape.

“What?”

“I… planned this trip by myself. Only for you and me,” he explains. “I wanted to get far away from everything that distracted us so I could concentrate on showing you the good side of love like I’d been trying to do with all those fruitless attempts at taking you on dates.”

You take in his words and find yourself smiling at the gesture — the white lie Minho told pales in comparison to everything else he has done for you, both during this trip and since you met him. Truthfully, you didn’t even realize he had been taking you on dates. You mentally slap yourself in the head for that, believing he simply wanted to spend time with you as a friend.

“I’ll pay you back for my part of the trip as soon as—”

Minho’s voice interrupts you with a drawn-out ‘no.’ He smiles as you stare at him, puzzled.

“This entire trip must’ve been so expensive, Minho.”

But he’s unrelenting, shaking his head with a squeeze of your hand.

“I told you,” he says simply. “I do stupid shit when I’m in love.”

♡ taglist: @notevenheretbh1 @malunar28replies @jazziwritesthings @finchyyy @bloom-ings @linocz @minhochaos @lastgreatamericandynasty1

#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

[fangfic]

I imagine this in an AU where vampires are out and open.

TW: dubcon, financial coercion, homophobic parents

Okay imagine being a broke student on campus, making your cup noodles in the communal kitchen as your vampire roommate walks by "sup dude, you eating cup noodles yet again?" He asks as he looks up from his phone.

You awkwardly try to make a joke out of it because whereas most people have a fight or flight response you have more of a comedian or feral kitten response.

Your vampire roommate looks concerned at you as you explain your parents cut you off after you came out.

"Christ that sucks, fuck your parents" your roommate exclaims as he puts an arm around you, his rich musky scent overwhelming you, in a good way.

"You'd like to eat some actual food? C'mon my treat" he asks and you agree, joining him in his car to a restaurant in the town adjacent to the university.

It's not a super expensive restaurant but still you feel bad for dining on your roommate's dime. As you finish your large plate of food, which he ordered for you, since you kept attempting to order the cheapest side dish, you look at him sip from his glass of blood.

You ask him how the blood tastes in an attempt to break the silence.

"eh it satisfies my hunger but it's not to write home about" he replies, downing his glass and asking for the bill.

Once back in your room he grabs your chin "listen, we're gonna figure out a way for you get a grand or something so you can continue studying here without overworking yourself, alright?"

You nod and feel tears come, it was so goddamn unfair, you cry into his chest and he pets your back.

"fuck, you smell so good, do you mind?"

You lift your face from his chest, what should you do? Let him have a drink after that nice dinner? It's not like you owe it to him, right?

Before you can even answer he sensually starts licking your neck, whispering into your ear "just a little bit" and he bites you, cupping your ass as he drinks eagerly drinks your blood.

After having his fill he whispers in your ear again "tell you what, you become my blood bag and I'll take care of all your worries" you nod in silence, not knowing what else to do. It wasn't like you had a choice really.

And so you started being his blood bag, in the beginning it was just drinking blood and cupping a feel but one day he noticed how aroused you got from the drinking and he decided to add fucking you as a condition as well.

Now he gets to fuck you whenever he wants and he fucking does.

You don't mind though, whenever you feel his balls slapping against your ass as he rails the living shit out of you a feeling starts to creep up...

The feeling that it's alright to be nothing but a vampire fucktoy, load after load at the laundromat, the showers at the gym, in a classroom after a lecture. You start to love being his, you stop wearing clothes when in your room, so he can fuck any of your holes whenever he wants.

You're a Vampire slut, it's fine, embrace it

#nsft #tw monsterfucking #nsft post #nsft concept #nsft text #vampire aesthetic #vampirecore #vampcore #vampire smut #vampire kink #bd/sm slave #tw dubcon #tw coercion #fuck now im hungry for cup noodles

[sissylittlefeather]

How the Web Was Woven: Chapter 2

A/N: Time for the second chapter in this time-traveling/soulmate AU! This is a reader insert Elvis x fem!reader. I had an absolute blast writing this chapter. I really hope y'all enjoy it!

PS- thanks, as always, to my besties @ccab and @elvisfatass for listening to me scream about this series and helping me when I ask!

Need to catch up? Here's my Masterlist.

Warnings: 18+ minors DNI! Drinking alcohol, lots of kissing, cussing, erections, fingering, oral sex (f receiving), p in v penetrative sex, unprotected sex, creampie... I think that's all.

Word count: ~5.5k

Maybe he'll just stay with you forever.

******

When you get back to the dorm, Elvis is all in a tizzy over your music. He wants to hear more, so you give him your iPod.

"What is this?"

"It's music. Here." You put the headphones over his ears and push play.

"Your records must be tiny!" He hollers over the sound of the music and you laugh.

"No records. The music is digital."

"Digital?"

"Oh man. How do I explain this? Just trust me. All the music is saved inside this thing."

"How many songs are in it?"

"It holds, like, thousands, but I think I have around 500. I don't buy as much music as I should." His mouth drops open and he looks down at the iPod.

"Can I take this back with me?"

"Absolutely not. But you're welcome to use it while you're here." He has another wave of hoping he never leaves.

"I love this." You can't help but smile at how excited he is.

"Okay, I need to get ready. I'm going to a friend's house for a game night tonight. Do you want to come with me?" He can't hear you over the music pumping through the headphones. You tap on his shoulder and he uncovers his ear.

"Huh?"

"Do you want to come with me to a friend's house for game night?"

"Oh, sure. I don't want to stay here by myself." Truthfully, he doesn't want to spend a minute away from you.

He goes back to listening to his music while you get ready. Watching you fix your hair and do your makeup is endearing to him. You realize he's staring as you swipe on your black eyeliner pencil.

"What?"

"Nothing. You're just real pretty." You feel your cheeks get hot.

"Thanks." You smile nervously. They definitely didn't exaggerate about how charming he is. Still, his presence is comforting for some reason and you'll miss him when you finally figure out how to get him home. That'll be your project tomorrow, though. Tonight's challenge will be introducing him to your friends without him finding out too much about himself.

When you're ready, you look over him to make sure he's not going to stand out too much. You get to his hair and frown.

"We need to do something about your hair."

"I can tell you right now what we're going to do. Nothing. My hair is fine." He moves his hands to his head protectively. He used half of your can of hairspray this morning fixing it. He's not going to let you touch it now.

"Okay, but no one does their hair like that anymore. You need to make it do this." You gesture to a poster on your wall of Joe Jonas with his hair in his face.

"No. Not happening." You laugh and reach up to tousle his hair and he grabs your wrists, laughing with you and hollering, "NO!"

He wrestles your hands back behind your back and pins you up against him. When he looks down at you, breathing heavily, you both stop laughing. The air between you is electric and he starts to lean in. His lips are almost to yours when there's a knock on your door.

"Y/n! Are you ready?" Katie busts through the door and Elvis lets go of you quickly. "Oh, God, I'm sorry. I didn't realize you were still here."

"Yeah, he's gonna be here for a bit. Is that okay?" You look at her with an awkward smile.

"Fine by me, as long as you two aren't too loud. These walls are thin, you know." You and Elvis both blush and she laughs. "We better go. I need to stop by the liquor store on our way there."

You nod. Luckily, Katie is 21, so you never have to worry about how to find alcohol for your parties. She walks out of your room and you look back at Elvis.

"I don't really drink." He shrugs.

"I know. It's okay. I hope you don't mind if I do."

"No it's- wait, how do you know?" You smile awkwardly again.

"I might've understated how much of a fan my grandma was. I know... things... about you."

"Like what else?!"

"Don't worry about it." You try to ignore your almost-encyclopedic knowledge of him.

"Come on, lovebirds! Let's go!" Katie hollers from the living room. Elvis takes your hand and you head out there to her. He's nervous, both to meet your friends and because you seem to know more about him than he does.

******

"Guys, this is John. We met in Tupelo. He's staying here with me for a while. Be nice, please." You say sternly as you look around the room at your friends. They introduce themselves and shake his hand. Your friend Ashley doesn't waste any time noticing his appearance.

"You look just like Elvis. Man, y/n, you have a type, don't you?" You laugh awkwardly.

"Yeah, John is a big fan of Elvis too. Hence the hairstyle." Elvis soaks in how commonplace it is for these people to talk about him. How do they all seem to know him?

You quickly change the subject before someone says something about him that he doesn't need to hear.

"So, games? I need a drink." You walk to the kitchen with Elvis in tow to fix yourself a beverage. He watches as you look through the liquor bottles.

"What are you looking for?"

"I'll know it when I- ah ha!" You settle on a bottle of Malibu coconut rum. Then, you open the fridge and pull out a bottle of pineapple juice and mix them together in a Solo cup. You take a sip and revel in the sweetness and he just watches you curiously.

"Can I try that?"

"Thought you didn't drink?"

"It's 2007. I think I can live a little." You hand him the cup and he takes a gulp and then looks at you wide-eyed. "That tastes like dessert!"

"You like it?"

"Yes. This one is mine." You laugh and make yourself another drink. This could get interesting.

Katie calls to you from the living room that it's time to start the first game. The evening passes and you play through a board game and a round of charades. He has you make him two more drinks and you notice his laugh gets louder and he touches you more. He's not drunk, but he's certainly feeling a little relaxed. You're not complaining, though, because you've had the same number of drinks and he is looking more and more irresistible.

You settle in to be a team for a trivia game and he wraps his arm around your shoulders and kisses your cheek. You giggle a little and lay your head against him. Katie watches the two of you and smiles. She knows how you've been alone for a long time. It's nice for her to see you happy, even with this stranger you picked up mysteriously in Tupelo.

"Oh, this seems unfair. It's a pop culture card." Your friend Brandon holds up a card with questions to ask the two of you. "Topic is Elvis Presley." Elvis whips his head toward you and laughs. He can't believe he's a whole card in this game. You don't think much of it when Brandon reads the first question.

"What year did Elvis buy Graceland?" Elvis sits up and hollers.

"1957!" Then, it hits you that there might be something on that card that he shouldn't know. Suddenly, you dive across the table and grab the card from Brandon, sending game pieces flying, before he can read the next question.

"Hey! What the hell?" Brandon yells.

"It's uh, an unfair advantage. Just pick another card."

"Seriously? Come on, y/n."

"Pick another card. Please." Elvis looks at you strangely and tries to take the card from you. You shake your head and put it in your pocket. The game continues and you try not the think about the fact that he almost had to answer a question about the year he died.

At the end of the trivia game, you decide it's time to head home. It's after midnight and you're not sure Elvis should have another drink. Katie agrees since she has to drive home. As you're walking to the car, Elvis wraps his arms around you from behind and kisses your cheek again.

"That was fun. 2007 is fun." He whispers in your ear. He's obviously a little drunk, but so are you, so you don't argue. Instead, you turn to face him and throw your arms around his neck, stumbling backwards.

"We have a good time." When you get to the car, he presses you up against it with his body and looks down into your face. He leans down and presses his lips to yours gently. It feels like someone has lit your insides on fire in the best way possible.

"Get in the car, lovebirds." Katie yells at you from the driver's seat. He backs off of you and opens the door for you to slide into the back seat together. It doesn't take long for him to pull you into him and kiss you again. This time, it's an open-mouth kiss and his tongue dips in to move against yours. You begin to make out pretty heavily, his hands moving over your body.

"Hey! No sex in my backseat!" You hear Katie holler from the front. You both start to laugh and he kisses down your neck, muttering.

"No promises." Luckily, it's a short drive back to the dorm, so he doesn't get much further, but the elevator ride is not very much fun for Katie. Finally, you're back to your room and you stumble in laughing and kissing in turns.

"Elvis, wait." He pulls back and looks at you with his heavily-lidded bedroom eyes.

"Yes, honey?"

"Nothing, I just... I'm gonna go to the bathroom." He sits on the side of your bed and watches you walk away.

In the bathroom, you go and then stare at yourself in the mirror. You have an opportunity here to live a dream you've had since you were old enough to know what sex is. But it feels wrong to do it like this, with both of you drunk. You steel yourself for how you're going to tell him no and then open the door.

It turns out you don't have to worry about it, though, because he's fallen fast asleep on your bed, fully clothed. You sigh and then go to take his shoes and his belt off. You change into pajamas and climb into the bed next to him, taking a minute to just look at him. He really is as beautiful as you thought he would be. Pictures didn't do him justice. You reach out and run your fingertip across his brow and down his nose. This is a miracle.

Just then, he rolls over and puts his arms around you, pulling you in close to him. He kisses your forehead and whispers.

"G'night, honey."

You settle in for another night in his arms. Tomorrow you need to try to find a way to get him home, but tonight, he's yours.

******

When you wake up in the morning, Elvis groans and pulls you in close to him.

"Good morning." You say quietly. He groans again and you realize he must be feeling his drinks from last night. You go to roll out of bed and he grabs you and holds you tighter.

"No, don't leave." He whines.

"I'm going to get you some water. It'll make you feel better; I promise." He nods and lets you go.

When you come back with the water, he's sitting up on the side of the bed with his head in his hands.

"Thank you." He takes the water and gulps it down.

"You'll feel better after some food. Take a shower and let's go get breakfast." He agrees and makes his way to the bathroom. You have a half-second fantasy of asking if you can get in with him, but you shake your head and get rid of that thought. You need to focus on trying to find a way to get him home.

******

After eating breakfast, you both feel a lot better. You start to brainstorm ideas for what to do.

"What if we go back to where you showed up?"

"That's an idea." He looks down at his hands. He doesn't want to tell you that he'd rather stay, at least for a little while longer.

"Okay, well, let's try that today. You'll need to put your suit from the concert back on. You can't wear these clothes in 1957." He nods and you notice how quiet he is.

"You okay?"

"Yeah. I just... I'm not sure I'm ready to go back."

"Elvis, you have to. You don't have a choice." He nods again and looks up at you, reaching across the table to put his hand on yours. He rubs small circles on the back of your hand with his thumb.

"Do I have to go today?" The way he feels about you makes him never want to go.

"We don't know how long we might have to get you back. We need to try."

"Okay." He gives you a sad smile, pats your hand, and stands up, stretching and yawning. You make your way back to the dorm for him to change before you head to Tupelo.

******

When you get to the fairgrounds, you go back to where you were when he ran into you, or at least to the best of your memory.

"Now what?" He looks at you anxiously.

"I don't know. I've never done this before. You're the one who time-traveled. What did you do?"

"All I did was come down the stairs of the stage and try to find a place backstage to... well... I was backstage."

"Okay, but was there anything different about this show that hadn't happened before?" He blushes and thinks about the massive erection he had when he came off the stage. Surely that's not related.

"Not really, no."

"Nothing at all?" He looks at you exasperated. You have to remember.

"There was one thing. You really don't know what I'm talking about? Please don't make me say it."

"Oh! Oh my God. Yes. I remember." You laugh out loud and he rolls his eyes.

"I don't think that has anything to do with the time travel." He mutters.

"We don't know that. What if it does?"

"That makes no damn sense, y/n." He puts his hands on his hips.

"Okay, but we need to try to perfectly replicate the circumstances. So, y'know, get after it." You gesture to his crotch and try really hard not to laugh as he stares at you.

"I can't just make it happen!" His face is bright pink and you're about to die from suppressing laughter. You stand and stare at each other for a bit, not sure what to do next.

"Well."

"You could help me." He gets a devilish look in his eyes and you shake your head frantically.

"Noooooo, that's, I can't..."

"You had no problem last night getting me there." Now it's your turn to blush.

"Elvis!"

"It's true! This is your idea!"

"Okay? Never mind. You're right. This has nothing to do with the time travel."

"Now, we don't know that. We have to perfectly replicate the circumstances. That's what you said." He takes several steps towards you and you feel the energy build between you. You look up at him as he gets closer and puts his hands on your hips. "We have to try."

He leans down and kisses you gently a few times before the passion takes over and you throw your arms around his neck and slide your tongue into his mouth. Before you know it, you're both locked in a tight embrace, kissing deeply with your bodies pressed together. After a few minutes you pull back, breathing heavily.

"Is it working?" He shifts his hips and presses his erection into you.

"What do you think?" He kisses you again with a new desperation. There's a big part of him that starts to get worried that this will work. It definitely feels like you're on the right track, even if neither of you can explain it.

But other than a slight electricity and buzzing sound, nothing happens.

You get to the point where if you keep kissing, he's going to lay you down on the ground and have his way with you right there, and he almost does, but another group of tourists comes into view.

"Shit." He hisses and fixes his dick so that it's up under his belt again. You breathe deeply and smooth your hair.

"Let's go. This isn't working." He says a silent prayer of thanks and nods. You head for your car before the group of tourists can spot him and ask to take pictures or something, assuming he's the most effective tribute artist of all time.

In the car, he looks over at you from the passenger seat and smiles.

"So now what are we doing?"

"I have no idea. I'm supposed to go out with my friends tonight. I'm not sure you should come."

"Why not? I promise I won't get drunk again."

"No, that's not it. I just... we're going to a club. I don't think it's going to be your scene."

"What kind of club?" A nightclub doesn't sound so bad to him.

"A hip-hop club."

"Hip what?" You roll your eyes and laugh. Sometimes he sounds like your grandpa.

You rifle through the cds on your visor and pull one down that's labeled "rap mix" with some doodles drawn on it in sharpie. When the bass beat hits, he looks at you with his eyes wide.

"Is this-"

"Music made by Black people, mostly." You cut him off before he can say something indicative of the time he came from.

"And you listen to it?"

"Oh yeah. We don't really... separate... like it used to be. Things have changed quite a bit..." His eyes light up.

"I wondered, since your friends were... not all white..." You forgot that it might've been a little shocking to him to see how diverse your group of friends was last night. Still, he seemed to take it in stride.

"Anyway, we're going to a place where they play this kind of music and people dance."

"I like to dance."

"This is gonna be dancing like you've never seen before."

"Everything here is like nothing I've ever seen before."

"You promise you won't get all weird and judgy?" He puts his hand on his heart.

"I promise. How bad can it be?" You think to yourself that it might actually be better if he has a few drinks first and then put the car in drive.

******

A couple of girls come over to get ready with you and Katie and pre-party before the club. They fawn over how cute "John" is and mix up some Malibu and pineapple. He looks at you sheepishly.

"Can I have one? I won't have as many as last night."

"I'm not your mother. Have as many as you want." You laugh. He grabs a cup and takes a sip, smiling. He stays in the living room on the couch marveling at how many channels are on your tv while you go in the bedroom with the girls to get dressed.

"Y/n, he is SO CUTE. He looks super familiar, though. How did you meet him?" Your friend Nicole remarks.

"It's because he looks like Elvis Presley." Ashley chimes in with her observation from last night.

"Yeah, I guess he kinda does in the right light. I met him when I went to Tupelo." You try to downplay how much he looks like Elvis because he is Elvis. Now it's Katie's turn to jump in.

"I'd love to hear the story of how you met. Because you were only in Tupelo for a few hours. And somehow you came back with this perfect guy."

"Oh, well, I went to the fairgrounds and we just sorta bumped into each other." You leave out the time-traveling bit.

"Shit, maybe I need to go wandering around Tupelo too." Nicole laughs and you pull an outfit out of your closet. You squeeze into the hot pink bodycon dress and slide the black vest over it, fastening the single button up under your boobs. You finish teasing your hair and put on a pink headband with a tiny bow. Your eyeliner is perfect and you're excited for Elvis to see you so dressed up. Once everyone is ready two drinks later, you make your way into the living room to grab Elvis and head to the club.

When he sees you, his mouth literally drops open. Up until now, you've had on jeans and a t-shirt or pajamas. This outfit shows off all of your assets and he's in awe. The other girls notice the way he looks at you and start to giggle. He sets his drink on the coffee table and walks directly to you, never taking his eyes off of you.

"This outfit is... wow." You look around at the other girls just standing and watching.

"Thanks. What?" He shakes his head a little.

"Nothing, you're just gorgeous, honey, that's all." You have the thought that you should just take him into your bedroom and let everyone else go to the club without you, but Katie speaks and shatters your daydream.

"Okay, lovebirds. Let's go. The club is waiting."

******

When you get to the club, there's a line outside but you can hear the thumping bass beat from where you stand. It's September, so the evening is chilly and you shiver in your sleeveless dress. Elvis doesn't think twice before wrapping his arms around you to keep you warm. You meet up with some of your guy friends and make it inside fairly quickly. You let your friends walk a few paces in front of you so that Elvis's reaction will go unnoticed. Once you get to a place where you can see the dance floor, you're glad you gave him some space.

"Holy shit." He looks around with his eyes damn near popping out of his head.

"Okay, you promised. No judgy bullshit." He turns and looks at you.

"This is amazing."

"Wait, really? I figured you'd get all shy and weird because, well, sex." He gives you a disapproving look.

"I've had sex before."

"Well, I know that, but still. I also know how and where and when you grew up."

"Looks like I finally know more about me than you do. Do you dance?" You're pleasantly surprised by his reaction.

"I do. I actually love to dance."

"Well, then, let's go." He grabs your hand and makes a beeline for the dance floor. Once you're out there, you turn to him.

"Are you ready for this?"

"Hell yeah." You turn around again and put your ass on him and begin to grind. He laughs out loud and puts his hands on your hips. It doesn't take him long to figure out how to move with you. This shouldn't shock you as much as it does, considering all the stage performances you've seen of his. You knew he could move his hips. The song ends and you face him, ready for him to say he's had enough, but the next song is one of your favorites. You put your hands on his shoulders and body roll into him.

"Yes, honey, I like this." He leans down and whispers in your ear as you continue to move together. You spend the next three hours either on the dance floor or taking short breaks at the table with your friends before he inevitably grabs your hand and drags you out to dance again.

By the time you leave, you're both so drenched in sweat that his shirt is soaked through and your hair is wild. On the way home, you sit in the way back seat of your friend's suburban and he wastes no time in wrapping himself around you and kissing you. Your friends laugh as you make out like teenagers and Katie hollers.

"Yeah, they do that."

Back at the dorm, you barely notice your friends as they continue the party in the living room and you tumble into your room with Elvis. You can still hear the bass beat from the music in the living room, so you push him into a sitting position on the side of your bed.

You turn away from him, putting both hands on his knees, and grind your ass against him. Then, you bend over in front of him and touch your toes, slipping your shoes off. He reaches out and puts both hands on your ass cheeks and grunts.

"Mmm, don't stop."

You turn to face him and unbutton your vest, sliding it off and throwing it to the side. He wraps his arms around your waist and buries his face in your cleavage, pressing his lips to the soft skin of your breasts. You unbutton his shirt and pull it off of his shoulders. Then, you pull your dress up and climb onto his lap, straddling him. You continue to grind against him to the beat from the living room, feeling his hard cock pressing against you as you do. He slides both hands up your thighs underneath your dress.

"Can I?" He looks up at you desperately and you nod. He tugs on the hem of your dress and pulls it up over your head and off. As he looks at you sitting on him in nothing but your bra and panties, he whispers.

"Wow." You lean in and kiss him deeply, skin pressed against his. He leans back until you're laying on top of him in the bed and then rolls over so that he's on top. He leaves a trail of soft kisses down your chest and reaches behind your back to try to undo your bra, but is completely confused by how different the clasp is from what he's seen before.

"What the hell is this?" You sit up and unhook it easily. He shrugs. "Okay, I'll figure that out later."

You laugh and he removes your bra, tossing it to the side. He goes back to kissing your chest, paying special attention to your nipples. You arch your back with the sensation of his warm mouth on you. He kisses down to your hip and then slips your panties down to your ankles and off. Going back to your center, he slides one finger into you and presses it in and out.

"You want me, baby?" He asks, voice dripping with lust.

"Use your mouth first." You respond breathlessly. He freezes and then sits up, looking at you.

"Oh, honey, I'm sorry, I-I-I've never..." He stutters nervously.

"Shit, I'm sorry, never mind. I forget how young you are."

"Now, wait a minute. I'm older than you." You don't know how to explain to him that you forget he isn't who he will become yet.

"It's okay. Just keep going."

"Tell me how to do it." You sit up on your elbows.

"It's really okay. You don't have to."

"I want to. Tell me what to do." A thought comes to you. Are you really the woman that teaches Elvis Presley this skill?

"Okay, well, just put your tongue here and move it around like this." You put your finger on your clit and rub it in circles and over the top, pleasuring yourself. You moan softly at the feeling and he nods and leans down, pressing his mouth to you. He starts to move his tongue and you moan a little louder. You feel him smile and he starts to get a little more bold with his movements. He slides his finger back inside you and continues licking your clit. He sucks on it lightly and then goes back to moving his tongue on you. It doesn't take long for him to figure out how to read your body for signs he's on the right track and you feel the coil of your orgasm tighten.

"Oh, fuck, Elvis!" You cry out as the coil snaps and you feel the waves of pleasure crash into you from every angle. He laughs as you come hard on his hand, feeling your walls pulse around his finger.

"Ha! That's never happened before. That was... wow." He looks at you with sparkly eyes and you breathe heavily through the high of your climax.

You sit up and push his pants down his legs and off, letting his cock bounce free. You stroke him for a bit and he leans his head back with his eyes closed and mouth open slightly.

"You want to fuck me, Elvis?"

"God, yes, y/n, that's all I want." You pull his hips down to yours and line him up with your entrance. He pushes into you slowly and rests his forehead on your shoulder until he's filling you fully. "Mmm, goddamn." His voice is husky and deep.

You moan softly as he begins to pump in and out of you with more speed. His hips slam against yours to the rhythm of the music still coming from the living room. You fuck like this for a while with him on top of you, but eventually you push him onto his back and climb on top of him, sinking down onto his cock.

"Fuck, yes, Elvis." You start to grind your hips against him, pushing him deeper and deeper and he groans.

"'M gonna come, baby. You feel so damn good." You nod and keep going and he pops his eyes open. "Do I-"

"I'm on birth control."

"What?"

"I'll explain later just don't stop!" He pulls you down to his chest and fucks into you from underneath until he can't stand it anymore.

"Fuck, yes!" He shudders and pumps into you weakly a couple more times. You lay on his chest for a bit trying to catch your breath. Then, you slide off of him and settle in the crook of his arm. He turns toward you and kisses you fully on the mouth. "That was incredible! I've never done it like that before!" You giggle at his enthusiasm.

"Like what? With the girl on top?"

"Yes and without pulling out."

"Oh. Yeah it's a miracle of the modern age."

"Well, I love it. Goddamn, I'm in love with you now." He laughs and kisses you again. You're not sure he's kidding, even though he laughs.

That's when you hear it. The buzzing sound gets louder and louder and you notice that there's a spot next to your bed where the air looks wavy.

"Elvis, look!" He sits up and looks where you're pointing.

"What is that?"

"I think it's how you get home!" His face falls and his heart drops. He wasn't kidding about being in love with you. He can't go now, not after what you just did together. "Get dressed! You have to go!"

"No, I don't want to."

"Elvis, you have to. You can't stay here forever. You have to be... you." You jump out of bed and gather his suit. "Come on!"

He gets out of bed reluctantly and gets dressed, looking at the mysterious portal with disdain. You throw on your robe and sit on the side of the bed. Once he's fully dressed, he pulls you into him and kisses your cheek.

"I'm not ready to leave you." All of a sudden, tears gather in your eyes and a lump forms in your throat.

"I know. But you have to." He pulls back and looks you in the eyes.

"I wasn't kidding about loving you. Come with me!"

"I can't! Elvis, please just go. This isn't going to get any easier." He sighs and runs his hand through his hair. He grabs your face and kisses you one last time.

"I'll never forget you, honey." He caresses your cheek and then turns away, walking through the wavy air. He disappears and there's small pop as the portal goes away too.

You sit on the side of your bed and cry, tears falling into your lap as your shoulders shake.

You love him even more than you did before. Now he's real and you'll never forget the days when he was yours.

******

A year later, you go to Graceland for the anniversary of Elvis's death. You never stopped looking for him after he left, but you're starting to lose hope that you'll ever see him again. You do an evening tour and somehow manage to find yourself alone in a corner of the house. You break down crying, sliding down the wall to sit on the floor. You miss him with every fiber of your being.

And then you hear it. The buzzing sound. And the air gets wavy in front of you. Could it be? It has to be. You jump up and walk slowly towards the portal, your heart beating wildly in your chest...

******

Chapter 3 coming soon!

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Taglist:

@ccab @elvisfatass @elvisalltheway101 @aliypop @18lkpeters @dkayfixates @ashtag6887 @your-nanas-house @deniseinmn @joshuntildawn13 @lookingforrainbows @60svintage @littlehoneyposts @epthedream69 @that-hotdog

#elvis presley fanfiction #elvis presley #elvis fanfic #elvis smut #elvis presley fic #elvis presley x reader #elvis x reader #elvis presley x y/n #elvis x y/n #elvis x you #elvis presley x you #elvis presley smut #elvis presley fanfic #elvis fic #elvis fanfiction #50s elvis #how the web was woven

[aethersea]

📓!

There’s an atla au of star wars that I have tried so hard to bend into a shape that I can actually write, but alas, all I have are ideas. This is the one that’s in the wips folder as Everything Changed when the Clones Attacked, which is ironic bc I cannot for the life of me figure out what to do with the clones. Maybe they’re being brainwashed at Lake Laogai? Or something???

Anyway. The story has two parts, prequels and sequels. Details under the cut, because this got a bit long.

In the prequels, the elderly Master Yoda of the airbenders is Avatar, and in his old age he’s stopped traveling the world and instead dispenses his wisdom from one of the great Air Nomad temples, nestled deep in the mountains where only Air Nomads can reach. He’s unofficial leader of the council of Air Nomad elders, which is….not great, really, not how things should be, but it’s mostly been okay. He’s been a good avatar overall, and it’s only in later years that he’s leaned so heavily toward the Air Nomads, and really none of this is enough to push the four peoples truly out of balance. 

Our story starts with Qui-gon Jinn, an airbending master traveling with his apprentice, helping a besieged queen from a minor Earth Kingdom escape her city. (I saw a post once asserting that the Earth Kingdom is actually a collection of largely autonomous kingdoms that all loosely recognize the authority of the Earth King in Ba Sing Se, and I like that a lot, so that’s the worldbuilding I’m going with here.) Qui-gon agrees to take Queen Amidala to the Avatar’s council to beg their aid. 

Along the way, they encounter a young boy living with his mother. The boy can do a bit of earthbending—and also a bit of waterbending, and a bit of airbending, and a bit of firebending. Which is impossible, because Avatar Yoda isn’t dead, but there he is, bending all the elements anyway.

I don’t think there’s slavery in the atla universe, but we could probably get away with indentured servitude of some kind, and Qui-gon acquires Ani in much the same way as he does in canon. He takes him to Avatar Yoda—and Yoda rejects him. Says, essentially, “This is weird as hell but it’s also not my problem.” (Frankly I can’t come up with an actual good reason for Yoda to do that, but just go with me here.) So Qui-gon angrily responds that if the Avatar won’t take responsibility, he will, and then gets himself enmeshed in Amidala’s political problems to boot. 

And then he dies.

Something something evil emperor, yadda yadda you know the drill. (Though I think the empire isn’t going to be the Fire Nation, despite the thematic appropriateness of fire spreading unchecked to consume all in its path. Palpatine is gonna usurp the Earth King, I think, and I do feel the prequels’ themes around entrenched systems with deep flaws, which are too big to fight as individuals and too implacable to change, will fit well with atla themes around earth.)

The sequels portion of things is even less plotted out. All I know is that Luke grows up in the same nameless patch of Earth territory his father grew up in, and he doesn’t actually discover he can waterbend until he’s practically an adult. It’s a shock to everyone—except, somehow, weird Old Ben who lives in the desert, who tells him that the next Avatar is supposed to be a waterbender, and won’t explain why he’s so convinced Luke is that Avatar given that he’s pretty emphatically not from the Water Tribes. 

Luke is finally convinced when he manages to airbend, under Old Ben’s suspiciously skilled tutelage. He can’t pull off any other elements, though, so they go off on a road trip to that swamp where you see spirits, to try to reach the past Avatars and get some guidance.

Meanwhile, unbeknownst to both of them, Leia has grown up knowing she can firebend. This is kind of an alarming skill for the princess of an Earth Kingdom to have, and even more alarming given that she’s already an earthbender. So she’s kept it secret, and no one but her parents has ever known.

They can meet in some way analogous to the Death Star raid in A New Hope, idk I have zero plot in mind here. The point, as far as I’m concerned, is that the Skywalkers have fundamentally broken the Avatar cycle. Anakin shouldn’t exist, and yet he does, and he was born while Yoda was still alive. If he hadn’t existed, the next Avatar would be a waterbender, and that’s Luke—except he’s from the Earth Kingdom. If Anakin is a true Avatar, then the next one would be an earthbender, and that’s Leia—only then she shouldn’t have been born until after Anakin’s death. Nothing makes sense! Even Yoda and all the other past Avatars together have no goddamn clue what is going on!

Imagine their consternation when they discover that neither Luke nor Leia is the Avatar: it’s actually both of them together. Luke has air and water, Leia has earth and fire; Luke can visit the spirit world and be the bridge between humans and spirits, and Leia can speak to kings and maintain the balance between the four nations. The two of them, together, can defeat their father, defeat the emperor, and restore harmony to the world.

#finx writes #finx has friends on the internet #star wars #why yes I do still have an ask from you from a long-ago wip wednesday for this fic #I stared at that google doc for SO LONG trying to come up with something I liked even a little #I just have no clue what to write! can't make the words happen! #so here instead have this

[hozaloza]

SBG AU THING I MADE AT RANDOM

Y'all know TOH? Well how about SBG x TOH in a way.

Character roles in some manner...: Ashlyn- A titan (Was gonna make her like the Collector bc of the reason why i came up with this AU, but I realized it would be cooler for her to be a titan)

Aiden- In the construction (He would destroy stuff with this power), Abomination, and Potion tracks (he would do multiple for sure)((Well, he also may be like Hooty)) Taylor- Construction and Beast keeping (Mechanic, idk why for Beast Keeping, she just kinda gives off that vibe) Tyler- Bard track, and be on the Grudgby team.

Logan- Plant, and in Potions tracks

Ben- Bard and Healing tracks

Parents are still in human world, they don't know their kids are being sent to the Boiling Isles every night.

Basically, every night at 12, the kids are sent to the Boiling Isles, and they are just trying to strive in this strange dimension as they try to figure out why they are going here. While so, they end up going to hexside, and learn to do magic. Ashlyn, however, is discovering strange stuff about herself, her abilities are more stronger than the rest.

At some point, the Origami Cranes (Who are Titans in this basically..?) will track them down, because Mr. Thomas noticed Ashlyn's shadow (which looked like a titan). As the kids get better at their abilities (and as Ashlyn starts questioning herself and these strange abilities), the Cranes (or should I say... titans? Haha. Yeah I'll be here all night y'all) will be preparing to capture the kids to bring them into the facility.

Crane roles: Jasmine- Titan

Ryan- Titan

Thomas- Titan

Yeah they're all practically titans. Presumingly, if they end up not being connected to the rift in some strange way as well, then IG titan trappers?? Idk I'm sticking w/ the titan stuff.

~~~~~~

So, basic idea-

Mr. Thomas comes to the school as a new teacher, he says they'll go on a trip to Savannah. Kids go to Sorrel-Weed house (meets Jasmine). A titan spirit drags them into the Boiling Isles rift. Now at night, they go there for a good 12 hours. Meet TOH gang. Discover secrets. Near s2 ending, Ashlyn discovers she's a titan bc of King. Parents get involed. Same old but with magic. *Gets kidnapped* Boss- "Hey! Welcome to your new home!" Ashlyn- "Bro what the fuck where am I-" Maverick- "My name is Maverick, and I'm The Collector." Ashlyn- "Wait what-"

Yup, Maverick will be like the Collector. That dude who I assume is the big boss will be an Archivist.

Idk what else to write, maybe I'll explain more idk.

#school bus graveyard #origami cranes #mr. thomas #logan fields #webtoon #ashlyn banner #aiden clark #ben clark #tyler hernandez #taylor hernandez #jasmine sbg #Ryan SBG #Boss #Boss sbg #Maverick sbg #AU

[hockybish]

Christmas Plans

l West Winds au l dad!trevor l masterlist l part 1 l next l

"So are we getting him a cat or dog?" Trevor mused scrolling through his phone one evening. He was looking at animals online from a local shelter, trying to find the right one for Zephyr.

"Neither. I'm not taking care of a kid and an animal while you're not here and I'm trying to graduate" Bean typed away on the computer in her lap. "I'm almost done with school, one more semester, we can think about it then."

"Well then what about giving Zeph a sister or brother?" he tossed his phone to the side, it seemed pointless once Bean said no to the animal. He started placing kisses all over her neck and shoulder.

"Trev, what did I just say?" Bean pushed her beau away. She loved the affection he was giving her, but not when she was trying to writing an important paper for a class.

"You said not to a pet. You said nothing about having another baby."

"No more kids until after graduation. Plus we don't even know what we are. And there are a million other things we need to think about, like where would we live? Because it's already difficult with our two homes as it is." she rambled “and not to mention your family hasn’t even met Zeph yet.”

"Tallulah Bean?" Trevor waited a second so he could have her full attention before continuing. "I love you more than anything, will you be my girlfriend?"

"You know what? Yes." She kissed him this time. Trevor deepened the kiss wanting something more from this happy moment, Bean could tell as much. "No more kids yet though."

"Yeah, but that doesn't mean we can't at least start trying now." He closed her laptop, placing it off to the side. She wouldn't be needing it for the rest of the night.

"I think we should tell them." Bean ran her fingers through Trevor's hair, they were snuggling in bed after having some adult fun times.

"Who are we telling and why should we tell them this thing?" he leaned into her touch while his eyes remained closed.

"I just think it's time we tell our families about us and more importantly yours about Zeph" she moved on to braiding the longer bit of his hair that had grown out since he last had gotten it cut.

"He knows my family. I think it's time that he knows his other grandma and grandpa and auntie and uncle."

"That, is a great idea, because my mom's only been begging me to bring Zeph around for the better half of a year now."

"Excuse me she's been what now?" Bean was a bit shocked at his confession, but at the same time not surprised he told his mom.

"Yeah, I may or may not have sent her a picture of Zeph like a month after he was born and I guess she figured it out from that." Trevor told her about what he did. "And Ellen's been sending her pictures too."

He explained how it had really only been this past summer, when they had been in Connecticut and so close to his family, that she had been asking to meet her grandson, but he had told her that it was something he would have to discuss with Bean. And with all the contract stuff going on and them trying to mend the what he had broken, it just slipped his mind.

"It's settled then, we're going to New York for Christmas."

"It's gonna be a short trip. I have a game on the 23rd and another on the 27th. That's not a lot of time for him to get to know everyone properly."

"We'll make it work, we always do"

#west winds au #trevor x bean #trevor zegras

[icequeenlila]

Ghost Lo'ak au (Locorro)

Title: See right through Me

Pairings: Spider/Lo'ak, mentioned Kiri/Tsireya

Caption

Since Kiri can remember, she's been able to see ghosts. When one day, she is the only one who's able to see her brother sitting on the kitchen counter, staring at her with lost eyes, she realizes that something must've gone horribly wrong.

Or: Lo'ak is a ghost, because he's been murdered, and Kiri is the only one who can see him. Spider get's framed. Lo'ak doesn't know he is dead.

+

Gonna post on AO3 soon.

The fic has multiple chapters and it focuses on the bond between Kiri and Lo'ak. But also on the freak trio (Lo'ak, Kiri, Spider). They are a team in this, trying to figure everything out together.

The story get's more dark as it continues. Like said in the caption, Lo'ak is murdered. He is dead, but he doesn't realize he is. Kiri is the only one who can see him/talk to him. Spider get's framed for Lo'ak's murder (you'll see why with the fic progressing). He's innocent ofc, Lo'ak and him are madly in love.

Some background knowledge:

Neytiri is a cop in this. Jake is a history teacher in a private school that he freshly transfered to. Tonowari is head master of said school. The kids had to change schools, bc Jake got offered spots for all his children and he thinks it benefits them. Kiri and Lo'ak hate it there, bc they get bullied by the popular kid Aonung. Tsireya is nice ofc. Spider is on this school too, bc Quarritch is a rich dude (criminal) and wanted him as far away from the Sully kids as possible. Spider is the school's bad boy btw.

Don't expect some grande murder mystery. I'm mostly writing this for the angst. And there's a lot of it.

Some examples:

Jake realizing too late that he should have listened to Lo'ak when he was trying to tell him what's going on, instead of punishing him on his behavior, cutting him off every time Lo'ak tries to explain himself

Spider blaming himself, bc he knew about Lo'ak's issues and wasn't able to protect him

Kiri being the only one able to see Lo'ak, unable to talk to anyone bc people would declare her crazy

Lo'ak knowing that something is wrong but unable to figure out what, just feeling broken, unable to connect to anyone but Kiri

Spider wanting to touch Lo'ak but unable to, bc he is a ghost (this one is kinda a spoiler, but bro...the angst)

Lo'ak unable to do anything as he watches Spider scream and cry, calling out for Lo'ak and Lo'ak calling back, not getting heard, unable to sooth, to reach, to hold the boy he loves

And lots of lots of lots of more Angst

Do I have your interest? I'd really like to know what you think. So, please (only if you want to) leave a comment. But if you do, pls be nice. I know this fic might not be for everyone, but I'm really passionate about it.

I'll make another post as soon as I upload on ao3.

Bye. I hope you have a nice week!✨💙

#lo'ak/spider #lo'ak angst #ao3 #ao3fic #locorro #kiri sully #kiri avatar #spider socorro #human au #ghost au #angst #major character death #The Freak Trio #memory loss au #Protective spider socorro

[marvelfangeek09]

Dealing with Family Revelations

Word Count: 2.2 k

Warnings: Themes of parental manipulation/abuse,

Authors Note: This a fanfic from @awhphooey 's rottmnt separated au where each of the boys were raised found and raised separately - Donnie was raised by April and her parents, Leo was raised by Hueso, Mikey was raised by the Foot Clan, and Raph was raised by Big Mama. Definitely check out their au, it's very good! I hope you enjoy!

After everything that just happened, April and Donnie found themselves in their shared room. “Alright, alright,” Donnie went to his whiteboard, and wiped down all of his notes on possible improvements to Sheldon. Ooh, he’s gonna regret that later, April thought.

“So, up until now we’ve just kinda assumed that I was just a turtle that just happened to gain sentience and become humanoid. Now, I was never super satisfied with that but none of my research or blood and DNA testing ever came to any fruition.”

“What? DNA testing? How did you manage that?”

“I may have broken into a government property or two to find some forensic equipment.”

“Donnie!”

“That’s not important. What’s important is that we now have two new hypotheses to work under! We have the red one’s theory and the orange one’s!”

“What about that blue turtle?”

“First point, he was an asshole, so I don’t know how much I can trust what he has to say. Second point, you hit him hard enough with the pipe that he was knocked out so a concussion is entirely in the picture. Last point, he’s an idiot.”

April snorted.

“Do you remember their names at all? I can’t remember what they said.”

“You don’t remember their names? Dude, they dropped the biggest bombs on you and you barely remember them?”

“Scoff. I remember them plenty. There was the really big one who just kinda looked confused, the energetic loud one who kept doing flips and handstands, and the one who tried to kill me. I just had other ”

April rolled her eyes. “Big guy, Raphael, Loud guy, Michelangelo, Snarky guy, Leonardo.”

“Huh. Those aren’t the names I expected. Nevermind that!” He turned around to the whiteboard, and divided that. “Ignoring the theory of being biologically to a guy who resembles a human skeleton, we have two possible theories.”

“Are human skeletons really that different from turtles?”

Donnie shuttered, “Yes. I don’t want to talk about that. Anyhow! There is Raphael’s Yokai theory and Michelangelo’s Mutant theory. Yokai are not actually a new concept, but a type of creature in Japanese folklore. It is a bit hard to figure out which aspects of Yokai are real and are just legend, but we can assume that they come in a vast variety of types. That would put more doubt, but the turtle form of Yokai was actually quite prevalent. However! It seems unlikely to me that we would be so many different kinds of turtles. It would make sense for there to be more similarities if we were biologically related.

On the other hand, there is Michaelangelo’s theory of mutants. Recently, there have been a string of mutants forming with a combination from another species of animal. If we just happened to be separate types of turtles connected to the same human DNA, then that would explain the differences. But the instances can only be traced back to about a month ago, and obviously the mutation would have had to happen over a decade ago.”

Donnie went on like this for a while before April interrupted him, “Woah, woah, woah. How are you not freaking out more about this? I’m freaking out about this!”

He looked up at his frantic writing on his whiteboard. “What part of this looks like the work of a sane person?”

“No not that Dee! You have brothers now! You have a whole family that we’ve never met before!”

“Why would that matter?”

“Because, you have a family now! People who can actually understand and help you! Why aren’t you focusing on that?”

“Oh. Should I be?”

“Yes, you should be! You just don’t get it,” She turned away from him and curled up into a ball.

Donnie sighed and dragged his hand down his face. Emotions, he could never understand them. He sat down next to her. “You know I’m terrible with processing how I’m supposed to be feeling April, but I just met these people. You must give me some time.”

“...”

“Or you could just tell me why you're so upset over this whole thing, and we can stop wasting time.”

She peered up at him, “Don, you’re literally my only friend. Now that you met your actual family, I’m going to be left in the dirt again. How many times have I gotten left in the dirt because I wasn’t someone’s best friend. Always the baggage someone didn’t want to deal with. Now that you have actual brothers, you’re just going to leave me just like everyone else. Why are you pretending like that’s not going to happen?”

Donnie laid a comforting hand on April, “I think that might actually be the stupidest thing that I have ever heard.”

She knocked his hand off. “Not helping.”

“Do you think I’m going to care about those idiots I just met more than you? You’re the one that found me and brought me home. You’re the one that accepted me as a brother. You’re the one that encouraged me to build Sheldon. You’re the person who accepts me even when everyone gets annoyed when I don’t understand others' emotions.”

“I mean, yeah but I’m sure they can understand you better than I can.”

“Who cares? You are April O'Neil, and my sister. I could never care about anyone more than I care about you.”

“Aww,” April leaned against him. “You’re just a big old softie.”

“Just don’t let anyone know. Got to keep up my bad boy reputation.”

“Sure Donnie. Whatever makes you happy.” ______________________________________________________________

“Dad, Dad!” Leo bursts through the secret wall of their restaurant. “Why did you never tell me that I was adopted?”

Hueso, who was in the middle of trying to seat a customer, looked deadpan at his son. “I am busy right now Leo. Why don’t you go upstairs and bother someone else, hm?”

“No, I’m serious, Dad! I just met my brothers, which apparently I have brothers! You should have told me!”

Hueso excused himself from the customer, and gave Leo his full attention. “Why don’t we bring this upstairs, hm?”

“Fine,” Leo mumbled. They headed upstairs to where their private living space was. “So?”

“I kind of thought it was obvious. I mean,” he vaguely gestured to both of them.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Pepino. I am a skeleton. You are a turtle.”

“What’s your point?”

“Oy vey. Why did you think I called it adoption day instead of birthday?”

“I don’t know, I just thought you were weird.”

“Yes, I’m clearly the weird one. Why don’t you tell me what happened?”

Leo flopped onto the couch, “Ok so I was looking around, just minding my own business, when I spotted this guy being like super shaddy, so I decided it would be best to apprehend him.”

“Uh-huh.”

“Look in my defense, he was covered head to toe in dark clothing and was clearly looking for something. You can’t blame me for swooping in.”

“...Is this that vigilante thing?”

“How did you know that I’m the Blue Blur?!”

“...Was it not obvious?”

“Anywho, I valiantly fought the intruder-”

“You were also intruding.”

“Do you want to hear the story or not?” Hueso motioned for him to continue, “So then his partner knocked me out. Once I woke up, all three were there! I’ve never met anyone who looked like me before, and now there were three of them!”

“Three what?”

“Turtles! We looked a little different, and none of them had my rugged good looks, but we did look similar. And Mikey started saying things about how this made sense because our Mystic Energy was similar or something. And then they were saying that you weren't my real dad, but Lou freaking Jitsu.”

“That action star you like?”

“Yeah, I guess. I don’t know how that even makes any sense. Why would someone put movie star DNA in turtles?” 

Hueso looked over at Leo, who had pulled his legs up in a little hug. He was constantly putting on a face of confidence, and he was good at it. No one usually would be able to really tell when he’s acting or not. But Hueso hasn’t seen him look so vulnerable since he was a hatchling. “What is wrong, mijo? I thought that you would have been actually, I don’t know, excited to have Lou Jitsu be your father?”

Leo sighed, “He’s not you. I’d rather have you.”

Hueso smiled and put an arm around him, “I’m still your Dad, Leo. No matter where you came from, I still picked you that day and decided to raise you. Nothing is going to erase all of the tantrums you threw as a tike or the headaches you gave me. Even if these brothers are going to be in your life now, I’ll still be here.”

Leo surged forward and wrapped his arms around him. “Thanks,” he mumbled into his shirt.

“Now, why don’t I get some pizza from downstairs, and we watch some of those space movies you like so much?”

“But I thought you didn’t like them?”

He kissed Leo on the forehead, “Anything for you tonight, pepito. I’ll be right back.”

“Love you Pops.”

“I love you too, Leo.”

______________________________________________________________

Casey was minding her own business, organizing and cleaning the various Foot Clan weapons, when she was assaulted by an orange blur. “Mikey! Get off!”

“Cass! I missed you! You’re never going to guess what just happened?”

“You decided to get some brownies as a thanks to your sister for not impaling you for attacking a trained warrior?”

“Pfft, no. Don’t be silly. I found out I have brothers!”

“Did you find any small children? We could successfully raise some children to be glorious warriors for the clan! Or sacrifices I suppose.”

He jumped off of her, “No, they're like other turtle mutants. Hold on, I took pictures.” He pulled out his phone and started scrolling through his pictures. None of the other turtles seemed particularly happy that their pictures were getting taken, all seemingly looking confused and surprised. As much as she wanted to deny it, she couldn’t deny the resemblance there.

“Are you sure that they’re your brothers? For all you know it could be a trick.”

“Yeah, even if they were in costumes or something, their mystic energy is too similar to mine to be a mistake.”

“Well you should be careful, little brother. Even now they could be working to overturn our plans.”

Mikey rolled his eyes, “What plans? It’s not like Uncle Rob and Maurice tell us anything.”

“They know what’s best for us! I’m sure that its all part of their grand plan.”

“Fine, but I seriously doubt that they could be doing anything like that. I mean, they didn’t even know what a mutant was.”

“Ha, idiots of the lowest caliber! Clearly unworthy of your attention! As your sister, I advise that you put them out of your mind and never see them again.”

The smile dropped off of Mikey’s face. “What’s with you? I’d thought you’d be happy for me.”

Casey gripped the glave that she was cleaning and with a scream, lunged at Mikey.

“Woah!” Mikey quickly dodged. “Casey what the heck!” Mikey grabbed a sickle and started swinging back. They spared for a little while, until Mikey was able to hook his sickle around the glave and pull it out of Casey’s hands. “What was that about?”

“I’m protecting my family! I’m not going to let some weird turtles take my family from me.”

“By trying to kill me?!”

“The plan may not have been thought out.”

“...Wait? Are you jealous?”

“What? Me, jealous. As if. I don’t need a soap opera family reveal in my life.” 

“Suuuuure.”

She punched him in the arm. “Shut up.”

“I guess it was a bit of a big thing to drop on you. Come on, I’ll make it up to you, let's play a game of death hockey.”

“And you're going to get me some brownies.”

“Fine, I’ll make you some brownies. Race ya!”

“Be ready to taste my wrath!”

______________________________________________________________

Thump. Thump. Thump.

Raphael threw himself into the rhythm of hitting the punching bag. He was lucky that he had enough training to be doing so good in the Battle Nexus. That allowed for him to be able to get his own room, a luxury that few gladiators in the Battle Nexus get. He has his one space, and even gets to leave occasionally.

Thump. Thump. Thump.

So why wasn’t he feeling very grateful? He trusted Big Mama, she always knows what’s best for him. She always knows everything. She knew that Lou Jitsu was his human DNA? So how didn’t she know that he has brothers?

Thump. Thump. Thump.

He’s not stupid, he knows that Big Mama made a good amount of money lying and deceiving people, as much as he wishes that it was different. But thought he was different, that she wouldn’t lie to him. Right?

Bam!

He knocked the punching bag off of the rig. He sighed and laid down on his bed. He was excited to have brothers, he’s never had any before! But what does all of this mean? And will they even like him? Hopefully they won’t hate him when they find out that he’s a gladiator. 

He got up and started to get ready to go to sleep. He could already tell it was going to be a long night. 

#my writing #rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles #rottmnt #raphael rottmnt #leonardo rottmnt #michelangelo rottmnt #donatello rottmnt #april rottmnt #casey jones rottmnt #big mama rottmnt #kind of #shes mentioned #I hope that I got some of the characterizations correct #i tried to nail their personalities in the au

[dontlookforme00]

Do you folks think I should write a morro fanfic

Reasoning: I love morro

Here's the main idea if it helps

Starts at where Wu tries to save Morro from the preeminent and he's about to do the whole "You can only save those who want to be saved, sensei"

Except Wu's hand slips for just a second and his legs go into the water and it hurts like fucking hell and he screams and realises how afraid he is to die and he's like 'sensei...help me' and its just the child part of him crying out

Parallels yk

Anyways Morro lowkey wanted to die mainly because he had no reason to live and also didn't wanna face the consequences of his actions

He's petty like that, we all know Morro

So he's like really sick, strangely, because ghosts can't get sick, but all his legs and some of his torso were destroyed by the water

Ofc they'll reappear but it takes all his ghostly energy and he's in like a feverish state

Wu is the only one who wants to forgive him / has already forgiven him

Kai is more aggressive than usual (hard to achieve ik) and he's like 'FUCK THE RULES MASTER HES WEAK KILL HIM NOW' meanwhile lloyd ":("

And Wu is like kai chill, nya chill, you guys,,,,

Then, after a bit, morro strengthens and all ninja negotiate ground rules with him (1. Don't possess lloyd 2. Dont annoy us or we will shower you 3. Listen to us)

Which, he immediately breaks, as you'll see

Morro tries to do something with one of the ninjas stuff and lloyd tries to stop him except he's kinda done with this ghosts bs so now he's regained confidence to be passive aggressive

This infuriates morro (angsty teenager)

Morro possesses him so lloyd will know he is still in charge and better than him because morro was feeling very jealous

Buuuttt because he's still weak lloyd forces him out and morro is like

"Fuck

I broke their only rule"

And as Lloyd begins to break down from the flashbacks morro fucking leaps off the bounty and begins to run because HE ALR KNOWS THE NINJA ARE COMING AFTER HIM

Cue morro panicking running blaming himself and overall wanted arc begins

The ninja begin to look for him after a few hours (pov switch)

And everyone especially kai are like OK SO WE GAVE THE BASTARD A CHANCE NOW HE DIES

And originally, they were going to help hide morro from the public bcos yk he was a villain but now they release the public statement that he is still alive and to be careful, report him, police need to kill him etc. War criminal etc etc.

Morro makes it to ninjago city after a few days and once realises he's like a public enemy and also pretty easy to see as a ghost

He's too weak to fight the ninja, his separation from the preeminent also weakened him

He's like tf do I do man

It's gonna rain soon so he needs to like rent a hotel get a job or find somewhere dry and safe to hide

But he needs a ✨️disguise ✨️

So he focuses all his energy on becoming tangible so he can wear clothes other than the ones he died in (my au my ghost rules ok)

After a while it takes all his energy and its painful af all the while the ninja are getting closer he's contemplating suicide atp

He collapses in some alleyway, flickering in and out of solidity

Until some kid, probably like 12 or 14 finds him

And I won't explain the whole thing but basically the kid, ofc, acts like a teen. Doesn't care if morro is wanted, lives in poverty, cares for morro which confuses him, and then the morro protects the kid from others

And they learn to rely on each other slowly because morro sees alot of himself in that kid yk

Anyways haven't figured out further than that

There probably only gonna be like 12 people reading this so heya

Also I have written the first chapter and posted it ;)))

#morro #ninjago morro #morro au #ninjago au #lloyd ninjago #thisisreallyjustinplaceformeremembertheplot #morro master of wind #morromyfave #angstylittlegreenman

[azzie-tangerine]

📚

OKAY I was really looking forward to doing something with this prompt.

I have a lot, and I mean, A LOT of fic ideas that I just don't ever write. Same applies to drawing. I have a very short attention span and my motivation is like a balance scale. One tip and an idea is likely to be gone for good.

However, I don't wanna pick one that I may end up writing in the future. It's happened before. So I'm gonna talk about a Kirby fic idea I've had since 2020. An idea I really wanted to write at the time, and even hinted towards it in my old One More Week fic. And a fic idea I know I will never NEVER end up writing in the state this idea was in at the time (I will explain why later!)

So, let's talk about my fantasy, Super Kirby Clash-inspired kirfluff au.

It started out as a just insert Prince Fluff into the story au. I did this a lot in 2020. I had a Smash brothers ultimate au with it, a Star Allies one. You get the point. And with Kirby Clash, there's a blue puffball right there. Very easy to just pretend that's Prince Fluff! But slowly I developed it to just be mildly inspired by Clash.

It stars Prince Fluff, who runs away from his kingdom after receiving a prophecy he just can't make out. It's vague, all he knows is that he sees four figures in it. But he can never make out what they look like.

He uses a disguise as a mage to stay on the low, and travels endlessly to figure out what exactly the message means. He hears the Dream Kingdom is well familiar with magic, so he heads there. And runs into Kirby.

Kirby had been raised in the Dream Kingdom all his life, and has been, quite literally, dreaming for an adventure he can experience. So when he hears of Fluff's predicament, he decides to help him! They're later joined by two other characters to fill in the Hammer Lord and Doctor Healmore roles, who I was thinking should be Ribbon and Marx respectively. I love Ribbon as a character and I thought Marx being forced into a healer role when he is very violence driven would be funne.

Bandana Dee and Meta Knight were also big characters! Bandana Dee was actually searching for Fluff, while Meta Knight is the titular mentor character for Kirby and Fluff.

I kinda stopped developing it from there, so I imagine the story just kinda falls back into the clash story. I did imagine a lot of scenarios with Fluff vs King D Mind so it makes sense.

And like I said, I later lost my motivation to continue the story further than the ideas I came up with. I had concepts (that I can't find right now hh), had a whole animatic idea, but I moved on. It happens a lot. I later stopped thinking about a majority of my aus from that time, mostly cause I wanted to be more creative I guess?

But here's where I pull the rug from your guys' feat. Because this story wasn't completely, COMPLETELY forgotten. It was changed heavily, it barley looks like the same idea by now, but I did later use the grounds of this story idea that i was most attached to, and threw it at a different story.

If you know my characters enough, you may have put it together already.

Because I ended up using some bits of this idea to change into my Mirror Prince Fluff character! The mage aesthetic, the runaway plot. A couple of other things. I won't go into complete detail here, mostly because the story I have with Mirror Fluff and Skirby in my head is still very much in the works. I'm hoping to share bits of it some day, if enough people are interested in it.

So uhhh. Moral of the story? Some old ideas can later be used to make something a lot better! I'm a lot more happy with this Mirror Fluff idea than I ever was with the original. While some things had to be dropped (like Ribbon with the massive hammer sadly. And chaotic doctor Marx), I have had a lot more fun developing this one. Story ideas can always be forgotten, but it's okay to look back at those older ideas for inspiration sometimes.

Sorry for the long post anon, I was just really excited to talk about some older fic ideas I've had. Maybe I'll talk about some other ones in the future.

#tangerine.txt #mirror prince fluff #kirby au #kirfluff

[adventuringblind]

Hi! I really liked your magical realism AU! Would it be possible for you to explain it a bit more? Like- how do levels work? Does it mean that the higher the level the more powerful the element you have is? Who is the most powerful member of the grid in your AU? Also, if you had a level/ability, what would it be?

Also also, you're a really good writer, just wanted to say 💗. Thank you for exploring some heavier topics in your writing and allowing readers to be a bit more vulnerable too!

There is like... so much here honestly. World building is my absolute favorite part of writing AU's because not one is the same! Obviously there are other magical realism AU's similar but this one is mine and I spent literal days figuring this out

In all honesty - you hit my sweet spot with this question. Below is my long ass rant about this AU along with an info dump. Gonna start creating tags for it since it's picking up more traction!

So I spent more time than I want to admit playing around with certain concepts. The rating system was a big one for me because it allows for abilities to manifest in different ways.

I started out calling it a 'scary rating' because I thought it was funny and now I head cannon they use it for fun. Rating is so... boring.

The scale is a 1-10 system. ! is the least powerful where 10 is the most. the most common are 4-7 simply because of how these energies manifest themselves.

The EU's (energy users) are more or less feared. I've deemed this as part of human evolution. It's not some kind of lab experiment gone wrong, just humans adapting to things in the environment.

That being said - Energies are more or less sentient. It's something I plan to explore in later fics. This comes into play a lot in Mend Me because I wrote an entire scene of energies either meshing or not.

In that fic, the protagonist is a level 10 meaning her energy is really high. People feel it because it's strong. Lando is a three (I think) and should not be able to be in the room with her but is able to manage because their energies meld together well.

One of the big things I stumbled across while building is that kind of dynamic. I tried explaining to a few people and it wasn't making sense so I had to rework it a few times. Here is the condensed explanation:

Energies are a natural thing and the next step in human evolution

They have their own personalities and often work with their human counter part versus working for them

Because normal humans fear the unknown and crave control, they came up with the identifying bands

All EU's are required to wear one

It shows their ability category (more on that later), their rating, and acts a suppressor band

Because EU's aren't allowed to be out without them on, the normal humans never adapted to the presence of energies and can't stomach being around anything 4 or higher. 1-3 still messes with them but not as severely.

Due to energies not being allowed to interact with each other and work together as intended, other EU's have to make a point to spend time together without their suppressor bands on in order to gain that familiarity

If you take it a step further you can even use it for different relationships. Pierre and Esteban for example might not work together well because their energies simply clash.

The rating system depends on a lot of different factors really! A level 1 who manipulates water might be able to make a bubbles and that's it. Where a level 10 could make a tsunami and then go for a mile run. A level 8 might be able to make that tsunami, but doing anything after would just be painful.

Now onto the fun part: Powers! I want to note that there are the main branches of powers, the actual power type, and then the sub categories of how that power might manifest. Bare with me here as this isn't all flushed out yet!

Also for references: EU's make up a little less then half the human population. I don't have the time to calculate what it would be in terms of the entire population for these statistics so don't be upset with me please T_T

Healers make up 3% of the EU population. Know by their white arm bands w/ black stripe in the middle (or the reverse Oreo technically speaking).

Witchers (healing but same name twice was driving me insane)

Alchemists

Energy Readers

Mind make up 8% of the EU population. Know by their light blue arm bands.

Telekenetic

Mind Reader

Mind control

Precognition

Illusion

Fazing

Illusion

Psychometry

Empath

Shifters make up 12% of the EU population. They have a bronze arm band but the shifter type is outlined on it (paw print, body, shape).

Animal

Partial

Body Mod

Inanimate (this one was for giggles really)

Sound makes up 11% of the EU population. Their arm bands are gold with vertical gray stripes.

Vocal Flux

Music

Language

Mimicry

Body makes up 15% of the EU population. Known by orange arm bands.

Speed

Strength

flying

Size Alteration

Agility

Druids makes up 9% of the EU population. Known by a Green armband w/ brown stripe in the middle

Animal communication

sentient creation

Plant communication (Lorax style)

Fabricators

Sensory makes up 17% of the EU population and have purple arm bands.

Sight

Smell

Hearing

Taste

Touch

Reapers make up 3% of the EU population. Know by their black arm bands w/ a white stripe in the middle (The real Oreo cookie).

death touch

dream walking

judges

channeling

Primary Elementals make up 12% of the EU population. They have gray armbands w/ a colored strip in the middle indicating element.

Water

Earth

Fire

Air

Long ago, the four nations lived together in harmony. Then everything changed when the Fire Nation attacked

Secondary Elementals make up 10% of the EU population. Plain black arm bands because there are to many of them to pick a way to diversify!

Metal

Shadow

Weather

Electricity

Light

There's a ton of details about each of of these but that would require another post. For now, I'll finally answer the questions!

The most powerful in my own head is Carlos because I made him a shifter. A level 8 BEAR. Why? because I can. I like to experiment though so that's my own fantasy world. However, if you see a consistent stream of bear Carlos that's why.

If I personally had an ability I'd have to Say a Witcher (leave the name alone! Saying healer twice is weird to meeee!). The reason is wildly morbid...

Draw backs of being a Witcher (healer) is what I like to call a wound transfer. I - much to everyone's displeasure - have intrusive thoughts about hurting myself in incredibly morbid ways. Getting to heal one person and hurting myself in the process? Sounds like a win-win to me!

#Ren's.inbox #MagicalRealism #Ren's.thoughts #im sorry #not really #spent hours answering this T_T

[quaissants]

WRITERS’ TAG GAME !

i don’t think i’ve ever done this before so thank you bubba @stealanity 💕

recommend 5 or more of your own works that you would rec to someone asking what they should read first & explain a little bit about the work. these can be the most popular, the ones you think are underrated, or your own favorites! then tag five other writers!

tagging @dearhee @end-hyphen @sunlightwoo @sunflwryu @thelargefrye for this !

also! two things: i’m adding works that i’ve written on my precious main because those are still so precious to me. also, most of what i’ve written throughout my two years are drabbles so i’m gonna go ahead and pick more than five:

take me home … kim hongjoong

this one took me a few months to figure out.. i remember getting it as a request, and i just had no idea what to do with it. but then i thought of deja vu joong, specifically the rain part and i went that’s it! and the rest is history

a poem called you … jeong yunho

writing a hotel del luna au fic is something that was on my writer’s bucket list. which is why when i planned the purpose series, i knew. tbh i think it only took me 2-3 nights to complete this one? and while it’s not as popular as the others on this list, i do adore it

in a world of their own … lee heeseung

my second work on kurosism 🥺 again, wasn’t very popular (still isn’t which is sad) but i love the domesticity of this drabble. unless i am being completely dumb, this was the product of reading 23/11 several times until i pretty much can recall the events of the story

002 … park sunghoon

from second on my previous to second on my current, this one is just. okay this was another spiral after i was roaming facebook and found this sound from friends. i don’t even know why i love it so much? i just really do, especially the last line

hyacinths … jung jaehyun

hands down the most underrated drabble of mine. this one was sorta poetic, something that could be a distant relative to lang leav’s poetry. the first line had been sitting in my notebook for over a few months so to make something from it just made me feel so good

the last word … tbz

…where do i even begin with this one. first off, i wanna say sorry to this series for discontinuing it )): i swear i loved making the three episodes, especially eric’s, but it’s hard to write something so long when the fandom you’re writing it for is slowly diminishing (i do plan on bringing it back though, but for another fandom..)

pretty in pink … choi chanhee

what’s this? a fluffy drabble from mona? what a rarity (NOT!) i actually do have several fluff drabbles but this one is my favorite from all of them because it’s the short but sweet, beautiful, tickle the stomach in your butterflies kind of read. to no one’s surprise, this was a spiral after seeing a certain pic of chanhee’s 😊😊

best friend … ji changmin

okay i am very sure that this is one of my most rec’ed and i do understand why. perhaps it’s the relatability of this one that makes it hurt even more.. even though i haven’t been in this situation before- honestly i’m not even sure how i managed to write this one but hey, it’s a good read if you wanna get your heart broken some more

safe and sound … choi yeonjun

alice in borderland x kpop idols? yes. my mind really is a weird place, and something that backs up my belief is that after watching the second? episode of aib, i began having thoughts. actually, i am pretty sure i wrote an idea for a prequel to this so who knows, maybe i’ll do it…

binibini | choi yeonjun

isayaw mo akooo ahem this one was dedicated to matty so 🤭 it’s probably one of my shortest works to date, but it still does pack a punch. for extra pain, i suggest you listen to this before or after reading it

paalam … txt

the thing is, headcanons are something i’ve only done once before (and even then, the format was different) so i was really not sure how this was gonna go. but given what i was going through during this time, writing this piece became sort of a catharsis for me. and while i have yet to fully let go so i can heal, at least there’s a work out there where my muses get that

#mona mania.⠀⠀⠀⠀see me through his point of view

[principled-uncertainty]

OKAY bcs i’ve been thinking a lot about this AU lately i’m gonna explain the childhood friends lore real quick

*none — and I mean absolutely none — of this is related to in-game lore except for the fact that the curse exists and the fact that the A.lberichs are ruling as the regency. I have my own fanlore for Khaen.ri’ah that is very complicated, so everything else is taken from that.*

readmore because this was, in fact, not “real quick”. maybe i should just write the damn fic lol. I’m actually considering revamping this specific AU and my fanmade Khaen.ri’ah lore into an original universe (novel?? someday??) because it’s GOING to get overwritten by canon — a decent amt of it already has.

In this universe my s/i [who I’ll give the stand-in name August] was childhood best friends with K.aeya in Khaen.ri’ah. August’s family were historically the chief alchemical advisors to the regency, so they and the Al.berichs were close. The two of them would often chat about the outside world and make up stories about what they’d do if they could leave the barely-surviving underground city of New Khaen.ri’ah to go adventuring in the lush green countrysides and blue skies of T.eyvat.

August was devastated when K.aeya was taken away to Mondstadt when they were both around 10, but they promised to meet each other again. In the time since, August’s father had succumbed to the Curse and left New Khaen.ri’ah to become a member of the Abyss Order, and August took over as alchemical advisor. Since the King Regent was still a little pissed that August “influenced” his son when they were kids (read: August was like “hey K.aeya you know what your father is doing is pretty abusive right”), he decides to give August a task that would test their skills and their loyalty to the throne.

Originally, after regaining their human forms, settlers of New Khaen.ri’ah had moved deep underground into the old strongholds of their ancient ancestors. This physical distance from the Cataclysm had mitigated the strength of the Curse, and around half the population would die without ever making a transformation. But recently, transformations had been happening more frequently and to younger and younger citizens. August was tasked with figuring out why.

And after several years of work, August knew why. They tried and tried to find an alternative, since they knew their findings amounted to near-treason. But there was no other answer. The funneling of the Transformed citizens into the Abyss Order, the use of the Order as a military branch, the strengthened connection with the Abyss as a result — it was worsening the Curse, which had come from the Abyss in the first place.

August knew it would be unpopular, but they brought the truth to the King Regent. He ordered them to publish falsified results that placed no blame on the Abyss Order, and August pretended to agree, but they published the truth in secret. They were jailed for their actions, and in jail they began to feel the effects of the Curse and started the transformation into a monster.

Meanwhile, D.ottore’s interest in the Cataclysm meant he was looking for a new test subject. Khaen.ri’ah, like they always did, needed the food they couldn’t grow underground. A trade was made, and while the Khaen.ri’ahns walked away with some much-needed grain, D.ottore walked away with a newly-monstrous August for a test subject.

About a year later, the brothers are finally making headway in their joint quest to avenge their father. They, along with the Traveler’s help, clear out one of D.ottore’s labs and find August there, prisoner. K.aeya recognizes them and the rest is history :)

#❄️ knight in shining armor ❄️

[la-hannya]

"SeSsRiN iS cAnOn, GeT a LiFe AnD mOvE oN"!!!! cit.

Rumiko Takahashi NEVER said that Yashahime/Sessrin are canon, Sessrinners are living in their own delusion as usual because litterally every canon source tells otherwise but of course they prefer to ignore this truth. Rumiko, after Yashahime was out clearly stated that Sess is Rin's "hogosha" aka guardian/parental figure and in her recent interview also clearly stated that her series, ALL OF THEM, are over. She never acknowledged Yashahime as Inuyasha's canon sequel, we were never told by whoever to consider Yashahime part of the Inuyasha canonical storyline as if Rumiko herself wrote it unlike J.K.Rowling did with the Curse of the Heir that unfortunately is canon. On the contrary, on the Yashahime OFFICIAL WEBSITE is clearly stated that Yashahime is nothing more than Sumisawa's au scenario. Even the author of the YH manga adaption explained on a Twitter post that his work is merely his PERSONAL INTERPRETATION of Yashahime. So basically it's a doujinshi inspired to a fanfiction. These Sessrin pedos stupidly believe that given that Rumiko approved these works means that they're magically turned canon, but just so you know she needs to approve everything related to Inuyasha because of legal rights. She also approved the movies and the drama cds (remember the Inukik one?) but this stuff is never canon and never will be. Toriyama also had to approve Dragon Ball GT but it's still not canon. The day Rumiko will wake up and publicly announce we're supposed to consider the YH series and manga as canon then it's gonna be set in stone, but canonical sources tell otherwise and contraddicting themselves now would embarass and make them look like clowns who're not able to make up their minds. So no, not gonna happen. Not now not ever, sorry. Also, Rumiko never remotely hinted in her CANON story that Sesshomaru and Rin would be lovers, nor that Sess's feelings for her were remotely romantic when he showed to care for her. On the contrary, she always called out pedophilic behaviors in her story, when Miroku asked that 11 yo girl to birth his kids, all the other characters were disgusted as it should be. And Rin had exactly the same age when Pedomaru proposed to her in that disgusting drama cd that again, wasn't from Rumiko but from Sunrise.

So... nice try pedos, but no, your garbage pedo ship will NEVER BE CANON. You can cry as much as you want, just enjoy your fanfiction/doujinshi crumbs and go back to the sewer were pedos like you belong 🤷‍♀️😘

There's an Inukik one???

And yes, that's on point with what we've been saying for the past 3 years and even before that.

Also, even if it's not canon I dunno why they can get so up in arms "Like really? That's gonna stop you from shipping your THING? That is not canon. You gonna die because of that?" If we go by Anastasia's source, (*a person who worked animating some parts of HnY*) and that first leak— it's implied they were more "mom" options on the table and that when present with the idea of "Rin" mostly everyone on the meeting rejected it except ofc you know whos that kept pushing the idea (and we know that backfired). So, let's say it was Kikyo, or Kagura, or Sara Asano, or even Kagome, or EVEN some random woman.

It would still have been non-canon... 🤷🏻‍♀️💁🏻‍♀️

Facts.

Unless RT says otherwise, it would still be non-canon.

And even if that had happened. I have a feeling they would be rustled at us and the studio for not choosing theirs. Tbh, why care about that? Even if you ignore the saucerib in HnY. The rest of the thing mostly f*cking sucks. They had HnY on the backburner for years after TFA and they couldn't come up with decent writing? They would've f*cked over my ship or the others like they did theirs and InuKag's. The people I know here can come up with something better in a one shot in one day. Hells, weren't they tagging #justiceforsessrin on twitter because they hated how it turned out at the ending?

At this point I don't really give much about HnY. As long as they stay in their little corner and stay off my sh*t I won't give Fs so like I've told em before:

"Block me".

I just want to focus on my headcanons and writing skills to Git Gud. I'm more mad that thanks to a guy with a Loli fetish this fandom isn't what it used to be.

#anti rinsess #anti sessrin #antisessrin #antiyashahime #anti pedosawa

[justsomeno1s]

Basil - Kel Omori RoleSwap AU

(Stars I need an actual name for this thing-) This is a collection of Notes and Thoughts I have about my interpretation of the AU! Please understand- I've been working on this with an IRL friend who hasn't played through the Faraway segments and doesn't know the Truth yet (soon, but not as of this point), so I haven't had a good way to brainstorm about it yet.

ALSO: I know I may seem somewhat incoherent at points, as a lot of things are based on my and said friend's interpretations of the characters. I'll try to explain if requested.

Headspace will be different! Since Kel (an active force) is replaced with Basil (Significantly more passive), major events and places including either or both of them will have to be changed to keep working, and some character dynamics will be shifted. The fanfic will mostly be the group's adventures through Headspace- As if it were an actual game/mod.

Pre-Vanishing below Read More:

Omori's greeted by Hero, Aubrey and Basil, ofc. Kel isn't part of the initial group because "Kel and Aubrey have been going at it again.' ... 'It’s to the point where Kel won’t even come into the Neighbors room if Aubrey’s here."

Basil's wearing sleepwear, and Kel's got a more awake outfit! The most important thing about this is that Basil's got his Jump Rope as a belt (Where else would I put it?) and Kel has a blanket cape. I'm gonna draw or sprite them later, b/c I'm completely in love with the idea "

Basil still has a flower crown! It would be equipped as a weapon, but he uses his Jump Rope as a whip in fights. When the friends disagree or fight, it starts falling apart and dying faster- Aubrey's Stuffed Toy quest is replaced by Basil needing to find a replacement for his current crown. (Would be called Flower Crown, or something similar) (Bonus: Basil infodumps about each kind of flower in his crowns when he first gets them)

I write the characters as having EMOTIONS (like the colored auras) even out of battle. Kel would experience 3rd tier EMOTIONS, and goes MANIC before he goes missing because he gets over-excited about something.

No watermelons- Instead, there are cardboard boxes or pillows that Omori can slice apart. (Kel can't take care of plants, but he and his brother are Master Blanket Fort Makers, after all! Plus, I figure Kel would be a crafty kid)

Hero's a bit more proactive in this so far, physically stopping Kel and Aubrey's fights and calming Kel out of MANIC. He'll probably be a bit more high strung as well, since he's looking for his little brother. (I kind of want to have him be the one to cry after Space Ex-Boyfriend- "He's not here either... Sniffle... God, I'm such an awful brother."- but I'm not sure if that makes enough sense to put so early.)

Kel has a Camcorder! Its digital, and he uses it to record any and all things he thinks he should remember/are interesting enough. Its a secondhand, off-brand device that he uses so much he's dented it and worn off some of the paint. [In reality, the viewer's been snapped off, and its lost/hidden somewhere in Sunny's house. Kel got it for his birthday the year before the recital, and used it whole year. His parents recorded all of Hero's events- The spelling bee, the cooking competition, and such- and told him that 'we record things so that we can remember them and watch them again later', so he wanted one that he could use on his own.]

The tutorial sections are actually just for Basil! Kel goes into battle and bring Basil with him so that he can teach Basil how to fight and use his skills. (Would break the fourth wall a bit, but Canon does the same, so I'm not too torn up ") (Everyone but Basil would basicallly start at level 2, reasoning that they do fight monsters on their own.)

Kel's got some OP battle skills, because he doesn't stay on the team. [Also, way, way farther than where I am in writing rn- Black space involves Kel fighting of dangers on his own, and I want it to be an overconfident into overwhelmed kinda thing "]

Kel's "Basil's house/garden" equivalent is a Blanket Fort set up between a mountain and forest, with half for Hero and half for Kel. Kel's half (the primary focus) is a sunset colored living room, filled with blankets, pillows, stuffed animals- the usual kind of stuff you might find in a sleepover. (I think? idk I'm weird) It has shelves of movies and comic books, themed by who likes what, and a wall spanning projector screen so they can watch them. It would be the fourth wall if in a game/mod, and Kel would get yoinked after it starts playing his memory of the Truth. [My friend had the idea of him calling out to Sunny before he gets got, b/c we're both shipping trash and Caprisun is The Good Shit, but I'm not sure it makes enough sense.]

I'll talk about a bit more soon, but I've got a thing today, so. It'll have to be later. Soon " Feel free to interact/Give ideas/Tell me it's unrealistic- whatever! Will respond asap "

#Omori au #BasilKel swap #no1sy #long post #omori #omori caprisun #(slight) #omori solar system #(even slighter) #White Noise AU

[ryqoshay]

Putting on Hairs: Post Production - Rough Draft

Primary Pairing: ShizuKasu Words: 595 Rating: G AU: Theater Time Frame: During their college years, before the main story Prompt: Future

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Author's Note: Primary entry for the 27th

Summary: Kasumi reviews a rough draft of one of Shizuku's plays

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It was time.

Shizuku slipped into the driver’s seat of her car and pushed the ignition button.

She had done everything she could. She had sold or destroyed every belonging that did not fit in her car. She had burned every bridge with everyone she had known. And it was time to leave.

There was no sense looking back.

As though to emphasize her resolve, Shizuku ripped the rearview mirror off and tossed it out onto the driveway.

Shizuku pressed the accelerator and pulled out onto the road. A few minutes later, she was speeding down the freeway, heading toward an unknown, but new future.

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Kasumi scrunched her nose as she read the final lines of the draft.

“Do you not like it?” Shizuku asked, noticing the negative reaction.

“I mean, I know the protagonist started off saying she wanted to leave her hometown…” Kasumi said. “But does she really need to sever every connection and… hurt those who cared about her to do it?”

“She believes so, yes.” Shizuku confirmed.

“I mean I get that her parents were negligent and many of her so-called friends were jerks. But her girlfriend… Couldn’t they have at least left together?”

“She would have remained a constant reminder of the past.” Shizuku explained. “The protagonist needed to make a clean break to truly escape and start anew.”

Kasumi pursed her lips, still not satisfied. “You’re gonna change the protagonist’s name before you let anyone else read this though, right?”

Ah. That was her concern. Shizuku realized she should have known. As confident as Kasumi liked to portray herself, she had her share of insecurities, and one of the big ones was their relationship. And if Shizuku was being honest, she couldn’t blame Kasumi for having such concerns; she had plenty of her own.

Both girls had a lot to work on if they were going to make their new relationship work. In that way, it was like the script draft Shizuku had just let Kasumi read. Or really, any rough draft Shizuku had scrawled out for all of the ideas she had for possible productions or scenes or the like.

“Yes.” Shizuku nodded. “I just used my own name as a placeholder until I figure out a better one.”

“And because the whole thing was inspired by some note you wrote for yourself while deciding whether or not you wanted to date me.”

“Well, yes, that too.” Shizuku confirmed. “But I’ve already gone down my highway. And it let me to Kasumi-chan.”

Kasumi’s eyes widened, obviously noticing the change in honorific.

Shizuku smiled, stepped forward, and pulled her girlfriend into an embrace.

“I’ve already started my new future.” She said, “And I want Kasumi-chan to be a part of it.”

Kasumi returned the hug.

“So, other than the girlfriend part, is there anything else you would want to change? Any other criticisms?”

Kasumi looked up. “Well, if Kasumin was to write the play, it would be cuter.”

Shizuku chuckled. “Of course, but that’s not the intended tone.”

Kasumi detached herself from her girlfriend, turned in her chair, and picked up Shizuku’s script. “Well, some of the events may work better in a different order.” She shuffled through the pages. “I think the confrontation with Keiko could be more dramatic if Kaede is approached first and has time to warn her.”

“Hrm… I hadn’t considered that.” Shizuku admitted. “But I can see that working.” She grabbed her note pad and started jotting down ideas. “Anything else?”

And with that, the couple started ironing out the rough draft together.

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Author's Note Continued: I'm liking the contrast between Shizuku's love of drama and tragedy against Kasumi's love of cuteness and fluffiness. As an aside, as I typed that, I realized that I was about to type "simpleness" for Kasumi's preference before remembering that Shizuku also loves "simple" hero stories, as proven several times in the anime alone. Anyway, I want to explore this difference more, and not just in this Theater AU. It may be a bit challenging to do so in Unstable and Perfect Worlds AUs, particularly because I've yet to decide what roles they are to play in either, but I'll get there.

And of course, my self challenge continues with Mirror being from '21 and Freeway from '22.

#ShizuKasu #Osaka Shizuku #Nakasu Kasumi #Putting on Hairs #Love Live Nijigasaki #fanfic #Promptober 2023