#three of my favorites that I actually know how to play 🥲

[angela-android]

Angela | Wanwan | Nana

By PineapplePoo (ID: melon013265)

On ArtStreet (medibang.com)

#three of my favorites that I actually know how to play 🥲 #fan art #angela #wanwan #nana #illustration #featured #sanrio #mlbb #mobile legends #mobile legends bang bang #mobile legends: bang bang #mobilelegends #mlbb angela #mlbb wanwan #mlbb nana #pineapplepoo #artstreet #my post

[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

[aleksanderscult]

Since we have officially entered the Aries' season I thought I should honor the fact that it's the Darkling's birthday! 🎉🎊

(No, we don't know his exact birthdate but we know he's an Aries. Anyways)

To celebrate it let's remember some facts about him.

Even though he was a Shadow Summoner, he loved bright colors. Blue, red, purple but most of all the color of sunlight.

Since we mentioned that he was a Shadow Summoner, isn't it endearing and ironic how he feared the dark when he was a child?

Once he didn't sleep for two nights because his mother had left him in a tent without a lantern.

He loved sweets! Cakes, pies etc. but his two favorites were a cake with cherries and sweet cream from Kerch and candies coated in sesame from Shu.

He had trouble mastering his powers as a child. He felt embarrassed for the fact that he couldn't make the Cut at the age of 13.

He could play the violin. 🎻

He was really intelligent from a very young age. Until the age of 13 he could speak three languages fluently and could read people and their behavior like an open book.

He was awkward and felt uneasy around children his own age since Baghra always kept them on the move and insisted not to let anyone touch him or for him to get close to someone.

He never met his father although he kept asking about him to his mother and wanted to meet him. The only thing he (possibly) ever knew was that he was a Heartrender.

He loooved nature. The trees and forests. The smell of them. Especially the evergreen trees. He even decorated his room in the Little Palace with carvings of trees.

Oh and he loves animals too! In the "Demon in the Wood" he got excited in the thought that he would see white tigers for the first time and Leigh once mentioned that he's kind to animals (we even saw that in "The Tailor" when he took time out of his duties to visit his horses, pat them and whisper to them soothingly).

And he actually saw those white tigers eventually.

Apparently he has great good looks to the point that he attracts others (and especially girls) like magnet since forever.

And his life was full of sex so he was experienced with it (Alina, your opportunity to fuck around and find out was literally right there).

The author confirmed (in 2014-2015, years before even the show came out) that he indeed harbored strong feelings for Alina and believed that they were destined for a future together (my man was ready to buy IKEA furnitures for their future house😭😭).

He had many, many half-siblings (one of them was a mermaid) and throughout the centuries he sought them out, out of a need for kinship, companionship and a desire to not be alone (🥲🔫)

This one is especially sad. He wasn't conceived out of love.

On another note though, his smell has been described as the smell of winter, forests and of the night.

In a solar eclipse his powers wouldn't be affected.

He's the Grisha with the most aliases in the Grishaverse (that's what living in a persecuted environment as a child does to you).

It's confirmed by the author that he was created after fantastical villains that she used to love, so please let that rumor that he was inspired after her abusive ex finally rest for good.

He had indeed fallen in love many times in the past but he kept witnessing the people he loved die from their mortality. At some point he just gave up on love and became more and more closed off. (Let's talk about the break he never had💀)

We might not know which person was the first he ever fell in love with, but we know which was the last one: Alina.

Do you remember those countless letters Alina was sending to Mal in "Shadow and Bone"? Well, the Darkling not only kept them secretly but read ALL off them.

He has a throat-neck fetish. And it's probably canon. The way he kissed Alina's throat every chance he got, the way he once nipped it, the collar and how he was always touching it.

According to Leigh, he didn't start wanting to be King. But this ambition came eventually after deeming it the only way to change things.

Kaz has been described as more selfish than Aleksander.

Well most of them turned out to be sad and tragic but that's because he had a tragic life and he himself was a tragic character.

Happy birthday to one of the best and most iconic book characters ever created. 🎉🎊

#and today we have a solar eclipse 👀 #HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO THAT LITTLE MEOW MEOW #I miss that fucker 🥹 #the darkling #pro darkling #aleksander morozova #pro aleksander morozova #darklina #pro darklina #alarkling #pro alarkling #grishaverse #shadow and bone #alina starkov #grishaverse trilogy

[evil-feather]

Home

Pairing: MissPeregrineXMissCuckoo

Warnings: sickness but comfort :)

Word count: 1807

Tags: @sam1kath @vykanya @mmemalwa @msperegrinesimp @l-lizzy-y

Notes: I know I know, this took me ages, terribly sorry about that. Also about one tiny thing (because it bothers me somehow): I settled for Fay as Alma's nickname given by Isabel YEARS ago and I actually find it cute to this day. I did cringe the hell when I wrote this because I don't wanna write my name in there so we'll just pretend like I'm not called Fay, right? Thanks🥲

Anyways another thing, there will be a little bonus "chapter" coming soon, as an apology :)

Oh and please let me know if you liked it!! <3

----

It was a normal day, really. 

The children were playing in the garden while the birds were chirping outside and the sun was shining through the big kitchen window.

Alma was teaching the last lesson for the Ymbrynes in training while Isabel was standing in the kitchen washing the dishes from lunch.

Just as she had put the last plate into the cupboard she could hear the sound of footsteps coming down the stairs. 

She looked out of the kitchen and saw the class coming downstairs and separating themselves to go into the garden or the living room.

Isabel smiled slightly as she watched the few girls that went outside to enjoy the sun.

She put the towel away and made her way upstairs to the classroom that was full of students not even a minute ago. 

The door was slightly open so she knocked and pushed the door all the way open.

The huge classroom came into view, with large windows and the wall plastered with pictures and posters. 

At the end of the room sat a tiny woman on a desk that was way too big for her, leaning over some books and papers.

She looked up when she heard Isabel enter the room and gave her a weak smile.

"I see you are still working," Isabel chuckled as she made her way through the classroom.

Alma mustered her shortly before returning her gaze to the papers in front of her.

"I'd also love it if this paperwork did itself but sadly…," she sighed slightly as she gestured at her desk.

Isabel took a look at the papers, now standing on the other side of the desk. 

Then she whispered: "Looks awfully boring."

She looked up and met Alma's face just a few inches from hers. There was a small smile on her face from the comment but there was also something different.

Quickly Isabel noted mentally, how tired Alma looked. She would make sure that she got to rest later. 

Isabel leaned forward a little and dropped a kiss on the small woman's lips before she stood up again.

"I'll bring you some tea and then we can maybe get some things done together, I also need to prepare some lessons." 

Her eyes met the green ones opposite of her and they seemed to shine a bit more than before. 

"Thank you, that's very kind of you," Alma smiled.

"Anything for my favorite falcon," she laughed, making her way back to the door. 

She heard Alma chuckle in the back but when she turned her face again, Alma's nose was already stuck in the papers again.

So she made her way to the kitchen to boil some water. 

In the meantime, she collected all the things she might need to work on the next lesson.

When everything was there and the tea on a tray, Isabel left the kitchen but before she could make her way back to the classroom she bumped into Emma.

"- my, I'm so sorry Emma." 

"Oh Miss, I was actually looking for you! Do you have a minute?"

Isabel looked at the tray in her hand, then at the blonde girl in front of her. 

She sighed, putting everything on a cupboard and following Emma to the garden. 

They stopped under a small tree where Bronwyn and Millard were sitting, a massive book in their lap.

Isabel raised her eyebrow and looked at the three children in front of her with a questioning expression on her face.

"Uhm-, well, we know that you two aren't the biggest fans of celebrating your birthdays and all that," Emma started slowly, nervously fidgeting with her hands as she spoke.

"We still wanted to make something for Miss Peregrine," Millard finished quickly.

Isabel's face softened and a small smile formed on her lips.

"And how can I help you with that?" she carefully put her hand between Emma's to stop her from picking her skin and returned her gaze to the two children under the tree.

Emma's gaze flicked to her hands and the Ymbryne beside her before going to the book in Bronwyn's hand.

"We started to collect pictures from the past weeks and months since a lot has happened and changed," Millard explained.

"And we have collected them into one big album," Bronwyn said, gesturing to the book in her lap.

"We were wondering if you might want to add something yourself."

The Ymbryne thought about it for a short while, then she shrugged lightly.

"I don't think I have anything newer that I could add."

"Nah, we already have newer pictures of you two-," the invisible boy blurted out.

"Millard!" Emma tried to shush him.

Isabel narrowed her eyes slightly and looked at Emma who suddenly looked very uncomfortable.

She sighed and agreed that she'd see what she could find. 

Leaving the kids to discuss the rest, she made her way back inside.

The tea had gone cold so she brought it back into the kitchen and quickly made a new one.

Finally, she reached the classroom with a delay of 47 minutes.

Carefully not to startle Alma, she knocked on the door.

When no answer came she knocked a second time and after being left in silence again, she slowly pushed the door open.

She nearly dropped the tray when the room came into view.

Quickly she put it onto the nearest table and rushed to the oaken desk.

Alma was lying with her head on the desk, looking incredibly pale.

When Isabel carefully laid her hand on the younger woman's forehead to check her temperature, she noticed how warm she was.

She cursed internally for not doing something when she had noticed an hour ago that something was wrong.

Gently she started to nudge Alma's shoulder to wake her up.

After a minute she slowly started to open her eyes, tiredly blinking at Isabel until her vision became clearer.

Then in seconds, her head shot up when she realized that she was lying on her papers.

Immediately she regretted the sudden movement as her head started to hurt again and tiny black spots began to cloud her vision.

Isabel caught her head, just as she started to faint again.

"Why didn't you tell me that you felt this bad?" Isabel scolded her softly.

"It's not that bad. -'m fine," Alma whispered, barely audible.

"Yeah, I can see that," the other Ymbryne sighed. "Come on, let's get you upstairs."

Eventually, after a little bit of convincing, they made it into their shared room and Isabel got Alma to lie down.

"Stay? Please?"

Isabel sat down on the bed, carefully taking Alma's hand into hers.

"I can stay until you are asleep, but then I have to go check on the hatchlings and see what we're gonna have for dinner later."

It didn't take long until Alma was asleep. Isabel pulled the covers over the sleeping woman and did as she said, checking on the kids and Ymbrynes-in-training. 

When Alma opened her eyes the next time the light in the room was dimmed and the house seemed to be quiet. 

Not having the strength to stand up, she turned her head a little to the side. There was a tray on the nightstand with a small bowl and a teapot on top of it. 

In the small armchair on the side of the bed sat a tall figure, cuddled in a thick blanket.

She looked up when she noticed that Alma was awake. Isabel smiled warmly at the ravenette’s tired face.

“What happened?” Alma rasped, not being able to move her head.

Isabel got up from her chair and sat down on the bed, carefully taking Alma's hand in hers.

“You are sick, and you passed out because you wouldn't stop working on your papers,” Isabel replied, a thick layer of worry in her voice.

“Nonsense, I'm not sick!” Alma murmured weakly, barely keeping her eyes open.

The other woman couldn't help but chuckle slightly at Alma's not-at-all-convincing reply.

“Well then, I made you soup. Here, you need to eat something. That shouldn't be a problem if you are not sick, right?” she teased, taking the 

bowl from the nightstand and holding it out for Alma to take.

But she only groaned and threw her arm over her eyes. “Seems like you've defeated me.”

The cuckoo set down the bowl and softly squeezed the small hand she was still holding.

“Alright Fay, go back to sleep. But promise me that you'll try to eat something when you wake up the next time! It will help you get better soon!”

Alma nodded slightly but Isabel was sure that she hadn't listened to her anymore and was already asleep.

——

She didn't get better, rather the opposite.

Three days had passed since she had collapsed over her desk. She had slept through most of the days and had barely eaten nor drank anything, looking paler than ever.

“I miss my children,” Alma whined weakly.

“But you need rest!” Isabel protested, her arms crossed over her chest. This argument has been going on for a while now.

“And I promise that I will do that, it's not like I can move anyways,” the ravenette pleaded, “I just miss seeing them!”

The older Ymbryne sighed loudly. 

"Fine! But if they bother you too much, I'll send them to their rooms again!”

“Deal!” Alma gave a weak smile.

Isabel nodded shortly before picking the small woman up and carrying her downstairs into the living room.

The room was quite warm and comfortable. The fire in the chimney was crackling softly and the kids were sitting splattered around in the room, some reading, some playing games, or simply talking.

However, they all looked up and happily greeted the two Ymbrynes as they entered the room.

“Your Ymbryne is still sick so please let her rest,” Isabel reminded the children as she threw the blanket over Alma's shoulders.

She left the room to make some tea and when she came back a few minutes later, Alma was fast asleep again.

Isabel noticed however that Alma seemed to be much calmer than before and she could swear that there was even a hint of a smile on her lips.

Alma was slowly getting better over the next few days. 

When Isabel checked on her, the following day, she was sitting on the sofas, wrapped in a thick blanket and having little Claire in her lap.

Olive was sitting to her right and they were coloring a picture together.

It was an adorable picture, that Isabel had to pause for a minute and just watch the scene.

It was at this moment that Isabel realized that the kids really seemed to do Alma good. And from that moment on she was sure that things were gonna be okay again.

#mphfpc #miss peregrines home for peculiar children #alma peregrine #miss peregrine #ymbryne #miss p #ymbrynes #bird wifeys #wlw #alma lefay peregrine #isabel cuckoo #miss cuckoo #perekoo #perekoo fanfiction #mphfpc fanfiction #gays #lesbain #pansexual

[letters-to-rosie]

My one oneshot of all time is impossible. 

There are three. Well there are more but I forced myself to stick to three. I'm terrible with choices

'Affection in all the wrong places' by LeBenj 

“You need to stop showing up here,” Ekko says as he unlatches his bedroom window with a loud click.

Without looking at him, Jinx’s lips perk with a hint of a smile. “You need to stop letting me in.”

It's soft and hopeful, with an undertone of hurt, and I love it. 

‘What's broken can still mend’ by MidnightLightHowlite

He hates her as much as she loves him, for nothing good ever happened to people who loved her back. But he cares, and that's different because people who hate you but also care will not forget, because they will forget a kindness but not a curse. People remember curses, remember misfortune if only to avoid it, and she's enough of a sin to be unforgivable.

… 

“You’ve been surviving for so long.” He brings her knuckles to his nose and takes in the gunpowder. When his eyes meet hers they’re frozen. “But have you truly been alive?

So many gems in this fic. It hurts just right. Learning to live and complicated baggage and hope (I might have a thing for that) 

And last one 

‘Why’ by PenguiniShipsIt

‘That's all everyone wanted to do these days. Blow up. Beat everyone up. Hurt someone. End someone.

It got tiring to a point that he'd rather wreck himself than hear everyone around him already wrecked.

And he got what he wanted at the sight of her on his couch. Again.

"Hey." He shook her by the shoulder. "What the hell, Jinx? Is this what we're doing, now? You're just gonna stay here when it—"

She's burning.’

Caring despite all the rightful hesitations, a bit of ridiculousness, and from Ekkos's perspective, an incredulous situation makes for such a good read.

okay I have been super tired, so this took me like 3 days to write lol but we're so back baby here we go!

going one by one:

Affection in all the wrong places is very cute! I like the concept of things having eventually calmed down years later and Ekko and Jinx being able to relate to each other without the mediation of the conflict we see in the show. in some ways it also reminded me of one of my fics, with the whole "years later" thing, and I just think it's fun to see how different authors interpret similar ideas 😊

for What's broken can still mend, I think I actually read this one before I had my account?? I read a lot of CaitVi back then lol but I was just starting to get interested in timebomb. yet the summary sounds familiar...

but anyway, on to the thoughts! this is such a small thing but I love the idea that Vi comes to the Firelight base and plays with kids. I love it so much I might steal it for the end of revolution lol (with credit, naturally). and Ekko deciding not to kill her? wild lol, just wild. a little curious about why then, but hey, it felt very poetic and we can never be mad at that haha also was surprised at how it ended, but I was happy to see that Vi and Jinx made up, because who knows how canon will go 🥲

and for Why!

I feel like I've figured out your pattern lol you like fics where after the events of canon things chill out and Jinx goes to Ekko. and then implied/actual sex haha

the top author's note on this one is so fucking funny lol

I do enjoy Ekko being a bit of a dork here. the first fic I wrote with him in it has him telling bad science jokes lol. but he's also so sassy here which is how he became my favorite Arcane character in the first place, so we love to see that too.

He loved the way she swallowed. around here is when he started to get really terrible and I was so down for it lol. AND it's reciprocal! I like that playfulness coming out with them. you can feel how much they're into each other, and that along with how they're not saying everything (which I feel like is also a commonality between these 3 fics). since this is the longest of the 3 by a good bit, it really comes through, and I like in particular how Jinx is really torn up about the idea of loving him while Ekko is eventually able to convince himself to stop holding back, even though he's still afraid she'll hurt him.

She had seen what happened to people she loved and loved her back.

Not Ekko. Not chubby-cheeked, pouty-faced, sad-eyed, Ekko who hovered around her when she was sick and injured, who tended a nice little garden of friends and firelights, who zipped through the fissures like one of those masked heroes in barbershop stories.

yeahhhhhh this is good shit lol

“Are you aware of any reason she might threaten your safety?”

Yes. I edged her six times and came in her twice.

pffffffft

the end to this one is also really interesting. I would say it's my favorite of the 3. I like how the tension between Ekko and Caitlyn and Vi plays out, though I'm wary of the Firelights being legitimated by Piltover (though Ekko is, too, which is why I love him lol). it's interesting to see them inhabit this space created by all the tension in the world around them. and then, of course, Jinx comes back. more bittersweet than the first 2, but in a way I enjoyed a lot

thank you for sharing! 🥰

#one-shot of all time #arcane #timebomb #ekko #jinx #feel free to submit your own one-shot(s) of all time

[brookiidookiii]

oughhh jock! jock i love you jock. for the ask

Oh thank you for this. They’re my childhood OTP so I do have a lottttt to say. Sommeliershipping permanently doomed me to only enjoy rivals to lovers dynamics

1. What made you ship it?

First off they are constantly touching each others chests MY GOD. Not to mention how often they get up in each others faces holy shit.

That is ZOKE levels of closeness. Jesus

I think you have to be dumb to not see why people ship it. Also that whole “need to be dominated” scene with dawn, then jo shows up right after that and bosses him around. COME ON. Then the rest of that scene and how it played out. Him poking her chest and then she pushes him away in a way that’s like “oh I’ll show you who’s boss.” Squat thruster ‼️‼️‼️ (why did she do that) Plus she seems to have genuine respect for him which is really nice. She’s given him the most nicknames out of everyone too.

Also 2/5 of bricks confessionals are about jo. The other three times he’s just talking about himself. I thought that’d be fun to mention. Jo wants to feel good about herself and brick wants to be a fashion designer and he can make her cute clothes i think.

I am never going to let anyone ever forget about that “maybe brick and jo wanna kiss and make up?” line UGHHH. Even Chris low key shipped it. There’s just sooo much to them. Also comedy potential with lightning thinking Jo’s a gay twink the whole time and idk maybe there could be something with jock and lightning. I’m convinced at least a few animators shipped them.

Just WIWJWJEN there’s so so so much. She’s the only person who convinced him to go against his code. That man is devoted. And then when she pulled him out of that grave and there was music playing and they zoomed in on them holding hands.. I initially shipped them because when I was younger I was looking for fanart and came across a fake screenshot of them kissing and 9 year old me beloved it was real 🥲 you can imagine my disappointment when they didn’t end up smooching. In the finale they’re constantly next to each other too. There’s way too much going on between them, I also take Jo’s dream about letting a guy win because she found him ‘attractive’ as a jock crumb. + they have a good ship name.

That rock climbing scene where brick talks about his rock wall climbing badge or something and jo seems genuinely impressed for a moment, then he goes on and says how he dislocated his hip and jo is like “oh never mind he’s weird.” LMAOOO. Brick really wanted to show off there huh. They’re both so fucking stupid iwhwnsnens

Plus we know Jo’s type is dark hair and cleft chins. She really needs to kiss her rivals okay

2. What are your favorite things about this ship?

Basically everything I mentioned before. Bricks “need to be dominated” basically confirms that jo would be his type, what can I say. And he calls her ma’am, and is just generally very respectful even when she gets under his skin. I really really love how jo tries to get under his skin, it’s so fun. And brick is slowly losing his mind. Also he didn’t vote for her in ep7, he voted for lightning, and we know that because jo got her marshmallow first, meaning lightning got one vote from brick. That is soo. Yeah. He probably would feel bad if he voted for her. He probably didn’t vote for her in ep4 either.

And he breaks his code for her. Like, his entire thing is never leave a man behind, and jo convinces him to leave everyone behind. And that causes his first elimination but MANNNNN…. He really really respects her. And I really like women who bully their boyfriends, it’s so fun. There’s probably so much more that I could say about them that I forgot to add.

3. Is there an unpopular opinion you have on your ship?

When people write their platonic dynamic in fanfics is always so. Meh. They treat it like she just harasses him but he views her as an equal, and she sees him as a competitor she can actually have banter with. Also please stop calling them mlm/wlw solidarity. I’m not saying that because I ship them but because she has made it her life goal to make his as miserable as possible. HOSTILITY.

I’ll make my own analysis on their rivalry, not to be shippy but so people just understand how they interact because a lot of people don’t get it.

Jock is very very special to me. The only way I can enjoy m/f ships is if they’re fighting 24/7. It’s awesome. Plus he’s also the only man I can ship with Jo tbh. Other m/f Jo ships make me like ehhhhh I dunno

#ask #jockjockjock #at the very least they were low key into each other #always send me jock asks #I will never not answer them

[plantwithoutplot]

Some ASL headcanon just for you ❤️

- Making is their big sister

- Out of the three of them, Luffy has the best eyesight

- they're so used to sleeping together that now they can't sleep if they're alone

- each of them had a favorite bandit in the Dadan Family

- Ace and Sabo only talk about Luffy with people they trust

- Ace actually loves hugs he just doesn't know how to ask (= he's afraid people will refuse)

- Ace refuses to accept that his little brother(s) are taller than him, thank you very much

- Sometimes, they miss their treehouse

(kdjdnd hope you like it!!!)

FIRST OF ALL THANK YOU FOR ALL THESE AND FOR TAKING THE TIME TO HELP ME STAY MOTIVATED 😭😭🤧💕💕💕

― Makino is totally their big sis HELL YEAH!! Either that or y'know when you have a cousin who is way older than you and they're a cool adult in your life while still giving you sibling vibes??? That 🫶🩷 Gosh yknow what would be amazing?? Fics where we see Makino being a teenager and playing with the trio and all 🥹 like not just being the Reasonnable Adult™ but also a young adult playing pranks with her younger brothers, teaching them dumb stuff and tricks and just being that older sibling who sneaks you treats behind your parents' back or share their wine glass with you when the adults are looking away 🤣🤣👌

― Ooooh this isn't a headcanon you see often 👀 (eheh, get it? See-) I would love to know if there is a reason why you have this HC??? ヽ(・ω・*)ノ

― THIS! YESSS!!!! 🪇🪇🪇 I always imagine how weird it must have been for all of them once Sabo 'died' because?? They always fell asleep under their own blanket and woke up entangled in a cuddled pile... And then one of them is missing. And then Ace and Luffy build their own 'countries' outside of Dadan's house. And then little Sabo, even without his memories, doesn't sleep the same anymore but he can't pinpoint why why why―

They are a set - do not separate 🥲❤🩵💛

― Ooooh definitely!! These boys are 300% the type to be selfish and play favorites lmao Though they all have a soft spot for Dadan (while still being Ace's favorite 🤧)

― Oooooh this ain't a HC you see often, I am very very very curious about why you picture it like this? The overprotectiveness, perhaps? 🤔🤔✨ (I always imagine the contrary so I am genuinely curious lol because I imagine these idiotic older brothers to talk about Luffy to anyone they meet, and then people are confused because they know more stories about Luffy than they do about Ace/Sabo 🤣)

― THIS BOY IS A HUGGER PLEASS DO HUG HIM (plus he must be so so so warm and give the best hugs even though he would be awkward at first because he is shy aboit sumb stuff)

― THIS IS A PAIN ONE MUST EXPERIENCE TP UNDERSTAND 🥲🥲🥲 It's okay Ace I know it is hard tp accept your younger sibling growing taller than you but I promise Denial Land is an amazing country to settle in!

― 🥲🥲🥲🥲 why must you attack me like this- (lies lies lies i love the angst) They do because it truly WAS their safest place. Nothing bad ever happened in that house. They built it for themselves. They were always COMPLETE, there. They were safe and sound and where their dreams were nothing to be laughed at. Their freest haven, up till they found their chosen families. Even if none of the brothers are the type to dwell onto the past for too long, their minds do wonder back to it when they need to remember what 'home' and 'safe' means to them.

THANK YOU AGAIN FOR YOUR MESSAGE 🥺 I managed to write some today and move past the bit that my brain had blocked on for the past two weeks!! I will keep working hard so that you get to enjoy more of Speak Up, Boys! soon ٩(๑˃́ꇴ˂̀๑)۶🩷

#aslinn rambles #speak up boys! #one piece #one piece headcanons #asl brothers #aslinn answers

[ddarker-dreams]

hiii i'm sorry if you've been asked this before but i've been a fan of your work for like... i believe a Couple Years now and i'm dying to know - what's your research process when writing for settings that you're not familiar with? like i'm ngl when i read your fics set in inazuma i can't help but take my time to appreciate the Details etc. i'm also a writer and a history major at that (you can laugh at me) and yet doing research is the hardest part for me. idk where to begin and what to do so i end up with 1000 unrelated sources and no grasp on the thing i wanted to research lol. again sorry if you've been asked before!! i tried to find if you were but couldn't 🥲

AAAAA thank you for sticking around so long!!!! and a history major omg... i love history so much, except for 1760s-1820s american history. boo. zzz. i sleep. makes me take a snooze every time.

as for my research process, i’m not sure how good it is?? it seems to work okay for me but i’m sure there’s a more scientifically proven backed by 9/10 doctors version out there somewhere. i actually tend to do the same thing when it comes to reading tons of seemingly unrelated sources, but the way i see it, so long as it still has something to do with the overarching topic, the knowledge might be useful. especially when it’s about making a setting nuanced and believable. even a small detail can make a world feel so much more alive. 

i think my favorite example is in this story, i still remember the detail three years later. basically the reader is able to surmise what time/day it is after waking up based on the radio announcing what teams were playing a game of football. i remember being like AA that’s such a cool and organic way to convey this information!! how cool is that!!

ever since then, my philosophy has been that it’s little moments which breathe life into a story’s setting. for this reason, i encourage you to keep looking through all the sources that deviate from what you originally set out to find. you never know what you might pick up!! research for scaramouche stories have started at how matcha tea is traditionally prepared to bunraku. it’s these unexpected detours that taught me things i didn’t realize i even needed to learn. 

i hope this made sense HJTEKMR basically i think picking up tidbits is invaluable!! whatever you think you might use, anything at all, write it down or copy and paste it into a google doc under the setting it’s for. that’s what i did for inazuma. i probably should start others for each region as well... 

#answered #Anonymous

[littlewitchbee]

Get to know me better tag game

Thank you so much for the tag @beware-thegemini 💕✨

Three ships: Royai, Solavellan, and is there a name for Lae'zel/Shadowheart? Lae'shart???

First ever ship: MSR for sure! As a kid I used to watch the x files with my mom and even baby me was like wow these idiots love each other. If we're talking about fanfic, my first ship was my ninja demon princess Naruto oc and Itachi 😅

Last song: Nazo Nazo by Kikagaku Moyo. They're one of my favorite bands and I'm still kicking myself for not being able to see them on their very last tour last year even though they were playing like 20 minutes away from me 🥲

Last movie: I just finished my spooky month rewatch of The VVitch. It's one of my favorite movies of all time

Currently reading: The Palestine Laboratory: How Israel Exports the Technology of Occupation Around the World (ebook currently free on verso books if anyone's interested) I also recently finished my re-read Cormac McCarthy's Border Trilogy and I'm pleased to report he's still one of the best to ever do it

Currently watching: Interview with the Vampire and I'm so mad I slept on it because it's so good. Also watching Joe Pera's new comedy special and that's been really good too (I often fall asleep to his adult swim show. It soothes the soul in a very special way on top of being very funny)

Currently consuming: My partner and I just roasted up some brussel sprouts to have with some leftover lobster bisque. Washing it down with a beer

Currently craving: I'm pretty full right now but give it an hour or two and I'll want some ice cream or something. Other than that I really would like to make some pierogies soon but I don't think I can be bothered to actually make them 🤷🏼‍♀️

Thanks again for tagging me 💖

Absolutely no pressure tagging : @kazsama @dreadfutures @fanimalcreations @rizayaoi @s1ithers @terminalberserker and anyone else who'd like to do this (also if you already did this and I didn't see, I'm sorry 😅)

#tag games

[tenjikubaby]

what western media/music do u think the s62 would like ? (ur post abt izana liking mitski oh god help🥲🥲🥲)

I'll be merging these asks. Music taste anon, I hope you see this 😭 

Western music that I think S62 might like, with artists (warning: self-indulgent, literally just projected my music taste on some characters but hopefully they still match)

*I might make a separate post for Western media hmm

IZANA

➼ Izana’s favorite music normally falls under the indie and rock umbrellas. He’s partial to 80s-90s rock and alternative rock but enjoys some modern indie artists from time to time. I see that he canonically listens to Queen (though I’m not sure if he does love the band or just one song), so there’s that. Other artists he might listen to are The Rolling Stones, Muse, The Strokes, Aerosmith, The Smashing Pumpkins, Arctic Monkeys (insists he likes their pre-AM music, would make a face if you tell him your favorite Arctic Monkeys song is “Do I Wanna Know”) ... and Mitski..... (you know why)

➼ His favorite Mitski album is Bury Me At Makeout Creek by the way. 

Get a feel of his music taste: The View From The Afternoon - Arctic Monkeys, Tonight, Tonight - The Smashing Pumpkins, Angie - The Rolling Stones

RAN

➼ Somewhat your mom/dad’s music taste. Probably one of those people who say older music’s better than new music. He’s a New Wave guy. Likes a lot of 70s-80s pop hits; some funk, soul, and disco music; with some alt indie bands sprinkled in. He’s fond of shoegaze because of its floaty and ethereal sound which makes him feel nostalgic and at peace. He also appreciates mesmerizing vocals and orchestral instrumentals, so I think he’d like Florence and Lana if he heard them. 

➼ Artists he would probably like: ABBA, Prince, The Cure, The Smiths, New Order, Cocteau Twins, Lady Gaga (I think she was big in Japan + her songs probably played a lot in clubs + she was always doing something shocking and Ran liked that)

Get a feel of his music taste: Lullaby - The Cure, Heart of Glass - Blondie, Gimme! Gimme! Gimme! - ABBA

RINDO

➼ He’s into R&B, soul, 90s rap like Notorious B.I.G., Tupac, and Ice Cube. That’s what you’d usually hear playing in his room while he’s chilling. He’d listen to DJs too, of course, but maybe to the more underrated ones. (I don’t know that many DJs so I’m not giving names) He shares Ran’s taste for Prince. As for some newer artists, I think he’d like Joji and Childish Gambino.

➼ Likes EDM but frowns upon the EDM of the early 2010s. He has pretty strong feelings about it. Never play The Chainsmokers in his presence or die. 

➼ His and Ran’s music tastes overlap when it comes to indie/alternative artists. Both brothers act like snobs over it. Rindo actually buys and collects records (as you can see, he has a CD and DVD shelf in his room), searching for rare versions of his favorites and everything. 

Get a feel of his music taste: You Know How We Do It - Ice Cube, Redbone - Childish Gambino, Pony - Ginuwine

SHION

➼ Metal, metalcore, punk rock, emo. Anything that includes loudness and screaming. Because of Rindo’s influence, he also got into some 90s hip hop himself. I think he’d enjoy the way someone like Eminem raps. He could never get into chill R&B though, and most pop songs are either too “happy” or too “sappy” for him and he just wants something that screams in rage most of the time.

➼ He’d enjoy Deftones’ Around The Fur album, as well as My Chemical Romance’s stuff, some Evanescence here and there (he’s had a crush on Amy Lee at some point), Bring Me The Horizon, Three Days Grace, Slipknot, and old Metallica

Get a feel of his music taste: Around The Fur - Deftones, Master of Puppets - Metallica, Na Na Na - My Chemical Romance

MOCCHI

➼ He likes hip hop/rap like Rindo so they often bond over that. Mocchi listens to both male and female rappers and will not hesitate to rap extremely explicit verses if urged. Others’ music tastes easily rub off on him, so Izana’s alternative rock, Mucho’s oldies, Shion’s metal, and Ran’s disco pop have all found a place in his playlists.

➼ The type of guy to have a Taylor Swift (he likes Back to December) or Britney Spears CD hidden somewhere in his room. Also got into One Direction at one point. If anyone asks, he’ll says it’s his girl’s or mom’s. 

➼ Okay, not Western, but he listens to Kpop and Jpop and stans girl groups. 

Get a feel of his music taste: No Diggity - Blackstreet, Family Affair - Mary J. Blige, Dilemma - Nelly ft. Kelly Rowland

MUCHO

➼ If Ran’s got the music taste of your mom, then Mucho’s got the music taste of your grandparents. His taste in oldies is a lot similar to Ran’s but goes further back in time. He enjoys the “classy” feel of most of these songs and the way these singers sing. His favorite genres are funk, soul, R&B, and some oldies pop.

➼ You rarely hear music playing in his house. But if you do, it might be Frank Sinatra, Elvis Presley, Bee Gees, The Carpenters, or Simon & Garfunkel.

➼ And as for some more modern artists: Coldplay, Hozier, and Silk Sonic. Would enjoy Lana del Rey’s style too, especially her Ultraviolence songs.   

Get a feel of his music taste: How Deep Is Your Love - Bee Gees, Yesterday Once More - The Carpenters, Viva La Vida - Coldplay, 

KAKUCHO

➼ Kakucho listens to music to relax. He usually likes to play music while he’s cooking, cleaning, or just idling around (though that’s rare). His taste is more of chill, easy listening. Izana and Rindo influenced him to like alt-indie, R&B, and rap as well. 

➼ Kaku doesn’t “stan” artists. If you ask him who his favorite artist is, you would not get an answer. He’ll listen to anything that sounds good to him no matter what people think of it. 

➼ That said, he’s the person Izana makes a face at for saying that his favorite Arctic Monkeys song is “Do I Wanna Know?” 

Get a feel of his music taste: Tek It - Cafuné, Clouds -  BØRNS, Do I Wanna Know? - Arctic Monkeys

#answered #tenjikubaby #izana kurokawa #ran haitani #rindou haitani #shion madarame #kanji mochizuki #yasuhiro muto #kakucho

[capnmarvell]

Can’t believe I was able to snap these photos 🥲 Arlington TX, 4/1 (Night #2 aka the night of THREE Death By A Thousand Cuts bridges)

I’ve been a fan of Taylor’s since 2007. She has the same first name as me, and for a long time I hated how common it was. Every year there were at least 1 or 2 other Taylor’s in my class. And I was never the Taylor people called out to. I felt totally invisible.

Then one day driving home from school I turned on the radio and heard the first chorus of Teardrops on My Guitar and fell in love. “Who is this?” I thought. I’d never heard this singer. Once the song was over the deejay said it was Taylor Swift, a new artist who’s album just came out a few months prior. That was it for me.

I asked my dad to buy me her Debut CD, and played it on repeat on my little portable stereo in my room. Taylor helped me love my name again. She felt like the friend I didn’t have at that age. She was exactly what little 11 year old Taylor needed that day in 2007.

For years I dreamed of seeing her live. My family could never afford concert tickets, and to be fair my parents also had no idea when she was touring and how to even go about buying concert tickets, and I was never really on the internet until I was about 16 so I didn’t even know when she was touring either. We were all horribly internet-challenged 😅. I even remember when I’d learned she had a concert after the fact, because girls from my school would come in the following school day showing off their merch and talking all about it and just being devastated I missed it. Then when I actually did know she was touring, it was just something we either could never afford, and had no way of getting to said concert 🥲.

And despite never being able to afford merch or attend concerts, I’d still always get the CDs and spend hours just getting lost in the stories Taylor told through her songs. I’ve grown with her these last 16 years. We’ve both been through loss, love, and heartbreak. I don’t think i’ll ever stop listening to her.

I lost “The Great War” for presale tickets to the Eras Tour, and chalked it all up to being another concert I can’t attend. But seeing as how big Taylor has gotten and will continue to get, I decided it’s probably now or never. So, I’m sorry, but I did buy a scalper ticket. I didn’t get any boosts for the presale, and wasn’t picked for any of the second chance sales and what have you, so unfortunately scalpers were my only choice. I don’t regret it, though, because it put me the closest I’ll ever be to Taylor in my lifetime. She put on an amazingly incredible show, one I will never, ever forget.

I got to scream the bridges of “Cruel Summer,” “Champagne Problems,” “Death By A Thousand Cuts,” and “Betty.” I cried while she sang “Marjorie,” the song I can’t listen to without thinking of the loss of my mom. And best of all I got to laugh and smile along with my favorite artist of all time, live and in person 10 ft in front of me for 3 solid hours.

I love you Taylor 💕✨

Signed, the-girl-who-loves-her-name-now Taylor

#Taylor swift #the eras tour #Arlington texas #arlingtontstheerastour #mine #@taylorswift #@taylornation #@taylurking

[twothpaste]

three questions- 1, how do you headcanon Ness chose his name? 2. what other names was he considering before he settled on Ness, if he was considering other names? and 3. if the other intermission characters could dye their hair, what would they dye it? (for Kuma feel free to answer with other colors she’s dyed/considered dying her hair before)

i actually don't have much of an origin story for ness' name, aside from knowing was a longtime childhood nickname before he knew what it meant to be "trans," and before he settled on it as a replacement for his deadname (whatever that might be, none of my business). he might've straight up nicknamed himself after his favorite video game console, giving his name the same origin it has in reality - i think that'd be funny. his dad's got a big nintendo collection, and they used to play video games together a lot - his dad could've even been the one who first started calling him that 🥲. a little kid insisting upon being called by a gender-neutral nickname, which emerged from a "tomboyish" hobby, from like age six onward?? i feel like that tracks.

i haven't drawn her in color yet, but my take on tracy has black hair that she bleaches blonde. as a teen she starts selectively bleaching streaks/portions of it, instead of doin' it all the way, 'cause she thinks it looks cool. poo wishes he could dye his hair literally any color at all, but if he does his family will have his head. he fantasizes about going off on months-long international archaeological surveys once he's graduated, with a glorious mane of green hair, just to live a little. one time lucas agreed to let kuma dye a little (small) (tiny) cyan streak into his hair. he thought it was sort of fun, but perhaps a bit intense for his tastes. people noticed him, he got a lot of compliments, aw jeez, that's super overwhelming for a big pile of oatmeal like lucas, y'know 😞. i think the older duster gets, the more eccentric he becomes - dude's probably only a few years away from turning his graying balding locks bright firetruck red while he's still got the chance. imagining his little goat scruff beard in all the colors of the rainbow 🌈

#thanks a bunch for these delightful questions! #intermission au #ask tag

[navree]

lol yeah, it was on Twitter. it was brought up today when someone made a post on how aegon was/is alicent’s favorite. ppl jumped in questioning how alicent can truly love and choose her son when he’s a rapist and then things devolved from there. 🥲

anyways, i don’t want to bother you with my pre-baked thoughts and opinions so feel free to ignore but i feel like the writers are trying to tell two different, somewhat conflicting narratives - one, how it was only the patriarchy that stole the chosen one’s throne, and two, how the throne devours anyone and everyone who seeks it, causing characterization and storylines to clash.

imo the show lacks intersectionality. there are three main-ish characters they could use to explore this: cole, an ethnic minority and low-born (we know he’s not from some high noble home) who holds his knighthood, the epitome of a noble man, in high regard when in actuality they’re all protecting a corrupt system, Larys, who I remember during the hunt episode said he can’t partake in “things of men” or something like that due to his disability, and aegon, who inherited a birthright and role just because he was born male yet he doesn’t want it and doesn’t want what comes with being a targaryen son.

idk, these are just some thoughts. the patriarchy is a tool used to protect power and it affects women and men. all this to say, maybe they should have thought twice about making aegon a rapist (not every “bad” guy has to be a rapist).

First things first, sorry that Alicent feels a deep and unabiding love for her kids even when they do bad things, idk who hurt y'all but my mom once flat out told me that if I killed someone in cold blood she'd still love me even if was also disappointed.

(and also there's something about aegon being alicent's first kid and what he represented in a very lonely time in her life and all the complexities around their relationship and how they'll draw closer but i've discussed that a fair amount already in other posts)

I think you're hitting onto something when it's come to conflicting narratives within the show. I've mentioned this before, but this show has a significantly larger writing room than GOT and nearly every episode has a different writer, which means we've got ten different people telling their own stories in the midst of the overall story and eventually all coming into conflict. There's also just a lot of missed opportunities, like how Criston and Larys have interesting stories (one is an ethnic minority from a place that isn't even a part of the Seven Kingdoms and is at frequent odds with them as well as being lowborn, one is physically disabled and clearly discriminated against in his patriarchal culture due to that) that just aren't being explored, which I think is also due to how they rushed the timeline in this season. It does make the writing disjointed, and you get Rhaenys still bitter about being passed over one episode and then telling Corlys to let it go because she has the next, Aegon the irreverent rapist in one episode and then the guy who is willing to protect his mother from a dragon before she stops him in the next, etc. People can clash with themselves on occasion, that's called character growth, but when it just happens out of the blue because one guy wrote one thing and then the next guy wrote the other, it's just weird.

I'm always a bit leery of "the patriarchy affects men too" takes because, I mean yeah but that's realllllly not the main issue, that's a several rungs down the ladder sort of issue, but the show does have a problem in that it has a very surface level understanding of things like the patriarchy and sexism and how misogyny comes into play with other issues like class divide and rigid social structures and caste systems. That's why there's this odd thing they're doing with the idea that Rhaenya "Chosen By The White Hart Like This Is Actually The Last Unicorn" Targaryen is going to solve sexism just by being a woman on the throne and not delving deeper into that and the complex political power structures that rely on misogyny in Westeros. It's a very shallow understanding and it can make for a shallow story.

Aegon being a rapist meanwhile is just such an incredibly stupid and inconsequential choice that I hate for such a myriad of reasons that honestly? Unless they do something more substantial with that in upcoming seasons I'm gonna start ignoring it the way Viserys ignores his children because it is giving nothing. It's an especially galling choice because a) Aegon should not be "the bad guy", he is the leader of the other major faction in a full civil war, we should be getting his point of view and understanding his point of view and as TGC said, introducing him first thing as a predator turns a lot of people immediately off with no hope of getting them back and b) everything else they've done with Aegon is stuff I've really liked. Aegon wanting love so desperately but feeling like he's never gotten it and how that permeates his every interaction with the world, Aegon needing to be drunk constantly to cope with daily life because of how pained he feels (and specifically apparently needing to get blackout drunk before he engages in any sexual act, as told to us by Helaena, which is just such a wonderfully horrible bit of character information I don't see anyone discussing), Aegon being by and large a bit of a shit person but still feeling his affections deep down, like giving Helaena a present after "cheating" on her and immediately defending Aemond against Luke after he couldn't before and choosing to go along with Aemond and lie for Alicent even when his dad was screaming at him because for whatever else, even beyond bullying and forced incest marriages and feeling like his mom doesn't love him that's still his family and he does love them even if he thinks they don't love him back, his genre awareness, the way he, like Alicent, is doing his duty by becoming king even though he doesn't want it and hates everything about it and is terrififed of his fate. There's genuinely so much they've done with Aegon that's made him such a brilliant character to me, and one that I want to see more of (TGC I wanna see the Emmy winning acting in season 2, I know you can do it). So having this one stupid choice mucking it all up is incredibly annoying and so futile to the story at large, I hate it, I wanna kill it with dragonfire.

#personal #answered #anonymous #it's never a bother getting asks and people telling me their thoughts don't worry!!! #also i know it seems that i dislike the show cuz i keep ragging on writing choices i actually don't #i quite like the show i enjoy watching it and discussing it #but i will talk about their issues #and also the greens who are my children (and man i talk about aegon a lot) #i've got like three separate posts that are just hyper detailed character studies of aegon #and he's not even the focal point in two thirds of them #but yeah there's some Odd writing choices going on behind the scenes and odd is me being generous

[maleksrami]

What is your favorite childhood memory?

What is your favorite smell in in the world and why?

What does "coming home" mean to you?

If you could see one artist live (in history of music), who would it be?

What is your favorite book?

What country would be on your bucket list?

Hope these questions help a bit xx

hi! thank you for these cute questions :)

i’m not sure i have a very specific favorite childhood memory, but lots of really precious ones. for example, i grew up with siblings and we used to play in our old backyard a lot. one of our favorite things to do on hot days was run around in our sprinklers to cool off. my sister and my brother and i would get in our bathing suits and just run around the grass while the sprinklers ran and it was very chaotic lol. sometimes we skipped the sprinklers and our mom would just spray us with the hose lol. eventually our parents got us a slip n’ slide and ohhh boy, our summer days kicked up a notch lol. i’ll always remember how fun and carefree that was. i miss being a kid 🥲

my favorite smell in the world is probably cinnamon. it just makes me feel warm, especially when i get to bake something with it and the whole house smells like it. or even just sprinkling a tiny bit over vanilla ice cream is such a treat!!

“coming home” to me just means safety. belonging. whether it be in the literal sense like “I’m where i live and i’m comfortable here” or the figurative sense like “I feel at home in this other place or with these people” (i.e. a concert, a vacation, a social gathering). I can feel at home in different places and sometimes without even knowing I would until I get there. I can feel at home watching a piece of media or listening to music.

when i was around 19, i got really into Nirvana. I’d choose them if I could pick an artist or band in history to see live. I actually kind of did once! when I was that age, I went to an event and saw the Foo Fighters perform there and Krist was also on stage with them! so i was technically watching three members of Nirvana (counting Pat Smear of the FF of course since he was a touring member with Nirvana too) and i was freaking out about that. I wished Kurt had been there.

never let me go is my fave book. it’s been a long time since i read it, i should reread soon!

ireland is my dream bucket list country. it looks so beautiful and i am very irish, i think it’d be nice to visit a place where i have familial ancestry and history ☘️

have a good weekend 💛

[grimalkinmessor]

For the fic meme: 🌟, 🎨, 📚?

That first one is not on the list so I'm using my amatuer detective skillz to infer that you meant the sparkle one ✨

✨️ Out of the comments you’ve received on your fics, what are two or three of your favorites?

Well, THIS one is my all time favorite:

aND YOU CAN PROBABLY SEE WHY LMAO. It's beautifully long, it takes me on reader's commentary throughout most of the fic itself, and watching my dear reader slowly descend into the madness that has already stolen me is always always fun :D But I think about this one in particular a lot because they GOT it, you know? They got the exact vibes I was going for, they understood the intricate relationships between the characters—basically they read it exactly how I wrote it to be read. And yes many other people have likely done that but this one TOLD me about it (⁠*⁠˘⁠︶⁠˘⁠*⁠)⁠.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡〜⁠(⁠꒪⁠꒳⁠꒪⁠)⁠〜

Another one of my favorites is this one:

Again, because it's long and thoughtful, and because it's from one of my friends whom I admire and value deeply 🥰

And last but CERTAINLY not least is this one :3

Because this one is ALSO from one of my friends that I respect and admire deeply, and because I enjoy making them go absolutely insane 💕 Mwahaha yesss go feral >:3

I adore every comment I receive, these are just the ones I hold the closest :3

🎨 If someone were to make fanart of your work, what fic or scene would you hope to see?

Ooo another hard one! Hmm. The imagery that I put in Notre Dame would be beautiful, I think, because I wrote it to be that way lol. But the dark magic symbolism of Tomura and Izuku's wedding in Nickel and Silver is also near and dear to my heart. Nickel and Silver has two, actually, because the scene where they're arguing in the river is one I think has the potential to be really pretty as well!! Though the scene in Cosmic Entities where Light and Matsuda are in the elevator has the potential to be very fun too >:3

But tbh the scene on my brain right now that I would ABSOLUTELY commission someone for if I had the money to spare is one that I haven't even posted yet 😭 AFOFA ballroom dance scene my beloved 🙏

📚 Is there a fanfic or fanfic writer you recommend?

*cracks knuckles* GET READY FOR THIS.

It depends on what fandoms you're into, but for BNHA authors I recommend surveycorpsjean, terryh, lukewarmbeefstew, RayShippouUchiha, katydid, Space_Cryptid, Gentrychild, whatagoodegg, cassieopia721, and I WOULD also recc mrjengablock but she's recently taken all her BNHA stuff down due to an AI scare 🥲

Yes all of these authors are WILDLY different but these are the people I enjoy reading the most ^^ For fic reccs I'm gonna go with Candor by OwlF45, Awakening by Zyla_Sweetbean, Why Are We Here Again? by cloud_nine_and_three_quarters, Play for Keeps by supercrunch, and A Difference of Perspective by town_without_a_heart 💕

For Death Note authors I'm reccing ASmallMoon333, TrashKing, sharptoothed, tsukinousagi, sn0w_quill, neallo, foreskinsmoothie, Min Daae, and TzviaAriella ✨

Again, a lot of different topics and styles here but I enjoy all of them immensely :3 Some good fics I like are vertigo by crimesofhallowed, louder than bells by relic_crown, metempsychosis by palant1r, Behind the Lens by arcadevia, and likely many more I'm currently forgetting :'D

Harry Potter authors I'd recommend are ObsidianPen, Nekositting, Cybrid, and asterisms!

Danny Phantom authors I'd recommend are GothMoth, thevillainofthisstory, EctoplasmicSoda, GhostMalone, and passionateartist. For fics I'm reccing Flight of Defiance!

Marvel authors I'd recommend are ladylapislazuli, tuesday, feyrelay, doctorestranged, Orcusnox, SpiderKatana, and LearnedFoot. Reccing Frostbite by writer168, and The Third Option by Uncertainty_Principal for those who can handle angst :3

Aaaand I'm gonna stop there because if I list everything and everyone that I like we'll be here all day 😅

#asks #ask game #anonymous #writers ask game #fic recs #author recs #i had to pare down those lists IMMENSELY you have no idea #i decided to just go with the people i'm subscribed to and/or have multiple of their fics saved. and even then. :')

[thatmomwitchfriend]

Hiiii <<<3 I just saw your slumber party post and thought of requesting something

Reader being a huge horror fan and wanting to do a Scream movie marathon (her favourite franchise) for date night but the guy being scared yet wanna look like they aren't.

"You've fought of *insert major threat* and you're scared of this?" (She asks but in a funny way, not at all demeaning)

"Ay! Serial killers are a lot more common than you think okay!"

Kinda the type of scene I had in mind and maybe the guy snuggling up to reader and her playing with his hair 👀👀

I couldn't choose between the moon knight system and Santiago García so was hoping you wouldn't mind writing this 💖

Sorry if this request is kinda long this is literally my first time requesting anything and overthinking got me here 😅😅🥲

I love this, having just done a good solid Scream marathon myself. I'm gonna go ahead and pick Santiago, here. I can't help myself 🤤

Also, please don't worry about long requests, I LOVE detail like this babe 🥰

I feel like once he's comfy, he's the type to enjoy a good snuggle with hair plays. Just seems like the kind of guy that fronts big and tough for his buddies and then is all sweet and romantic at home.

Also, he is ABSOLUTELY the type to be more scared of something based on an actual true crime case than a paranormal flic and I love that you chose him as one of your options for this franchise!

By the time you got home from work, the streetlights were already on and the house was lit up from the inside. You and Santiago had talked about a movie marathon, since you didn't have to work tomorrow. Neither of you were really sure what franchise to pop on, but you had convinced him that it was horror.

Little to your knowledge, Santiago was perfectly fine with horror. Under certain circumstances. The man was utterly skeeved out by true crime. People in the real world were the scariest thing to him. He was fine with creatures and the paranormal, though; fuck, he hoped you wanted to watch some spooky bruja shit. He busied himself in the kitchen, prepping a drink bar, baskets of chips, bowls of candy, the air pop machine, and even a coffee and cocoa bar. The living room was set up for an overnight with all the blankets and pillows making the room look like a conversation pit. He had drawn the curtains and put up softly glowing fairy lights that cast a spooky glow from behind the tv and curtains. Candles were lit and smelled like your favorite time of year. This man was a keeper.

"Babe, I'm home!" you called into the house, making your way down the hall towards the kitchen. There, you leaned against the door frame, smiling as you watched this ex special-ops agent prep snacks for a movie night at home. Santiago was the equivalent of taking a military dog and taking him home after his tour of duty. This man was domesticated, and he liked it (thought he would never admit it). "Hey, Mami, how was work?" You shrugged, snagging a chip from the first bowl he walked away from.

"Well, Sarah was -" you droned on, spilling all the shit from your day. He was listening, nodding and inserting little sounds of approval or disgust when the moment called for it. "Did you decide what you want to watch?" he asked. A devious smile spread across your face, and he did NOT like it. A chill went ups his spine as he followed you into the living room and over to the DVD rack. You ran your finger down the spines of all your favorite movies, you only collected DVD copies of your top favorites, and stopped at Scream. His nose scrunched and he groaned softly behind you, and not because of your leggings you presumed.

"What's wrong with Scream?" you asked, straightening up and reaching to get it set in the player. "You know it's an actual murder case from not all that long ago, right?" he asked, a single eyebrow arching in slight disdain. "Oh, come on. You mean to tell me that the man who brought down Gabriel Martin Lorea with three shots just for 'insurance' is scared of a movie based on a true crime event?" you scoffed, putting air quotes around his favorite excuse for shooting more than once.

His eyes rolled, "Si, Mami, but real people are still out there doing that shit." he sighed, sitting into the comfortable nest he had built for the two of you. You followed, putting the remote on the side table and settling in. "But there are people whose jobs it is to make sure they're not like they used to be." you tried to reason, patting your empty lap. He pursed his lips, laying his head over into your lap. He would watch your movies with you, but he wasn't about to admit that he was actually scared. "people still kill people." he grumbled. In return you shushed him softly, fingers twisting through his hair as the opening credits started on the screen.

As the movies played on, and the night continued around you both in your beautiful little home, safe and sound, he was still right. Serial killers were still a lot more common than people thought.

#scream #scream marathon #scary movie #scary movie night #scary movies #horror #horror films #horror film #movie marathon #movie date #Santiago Garcia #Santiago “pope” Garcia #triple frontier