Tumgik
#to all followers of this blog
beifongkendo · 5 months
Text
Tumblr media
Appreciation and gratitude, by Japanese shodo artist Sisyu.
162 notes · View notes
mamawasatesttube · 10 months
Text
BTW... PSA.... even if we arent mutuals if youre in my notes regularly theres a Very high chance i am still fond of you. yes im vaguing someones tags on the compliment the person u rbed this from post. but like. positive vaguing? THE POINT IS im weird abt following ppl but IM STILL SENDING U FOND VIBES...
42K notes · View notes
tshortik · 2 months
Text
Turn on "prevent third-party sharing" in your settings!
Go into your settings, click on your blog name, scroll down and enable "prevent third-party sharing". I'm gonna be honest, I question how much/if this even prevents any AI bullshit, but do it just in case anyway.
Tumblr media
Edit: On Mobile it's the Settings Gear, Visibility, Prevent third-party sharing.
You have to turn that on for all your blogs separately.
3K notes · View notes
morebird · 5 months
Text
Tumblr media
"Don't burn yourself."
7K notes · View notes
shmaroace · 1 year
Text
don't get me wrong, i love all the positivity around being aro, like "be proud of being aro!! love who you are!!", but we never talk about how hard it is to reach that spot. so here's to the aros who are still trying to understand themselves, who aren't proud of who they are yet, who are still coming to terms with their new identity.
8K notes · View notes
lobotomyladylives · 3 months
Text
"you do realize that you're in a misandrist echo chamber, right?" you do realize that the entire fucking world is a misogynistic echo chamber, right?
2K notes · View notes
fungi-maestro · 1 month
Text
Happy tdov to fat trans people. 🏳️‍⚧️ Biggest thing that helped me as a trans kid was seeing older fat trans people. There were a lot of really irritating "advice" posts going around early in my time on the internet with a lot of misinformation in them, but one that I constantly saw (in addition to people claiming you should wear your pants rediculously low or only wear button ups) were posts saying you had to lose weight to transition. Can confidently confirm that is completely untrue. 👍
1K notes · View notes
sketchy-tour · 4 months
Text
Tumblr media
OH WHATS THIS??? A MAN I HAVENT DRAWN IN, LIKE, A YEAR???
Yea remember when I originally was a sun and moon artist for two seconds? Legit popped into the fandom and then disappeared. Lmao
Anyway drew this on a magma with pals! Was kinda relaxing to doodle this dork again! Oh man I...really need to actually watch Help Wanted 2! Hadn't gotten a chance to!
2K notes · View notes
arthursfuckinghat · 1 month
Text
The sun is your halo, for it is always above you.
Tumblr media Tumblr media
Arthur and Weetabix 𑁦𐂂𑁦 Scarlett Meadows
786 notes · View notes
crimeronan · 1 year
Text
4K notes · View notes
clown-owo · 8 months
Text
I think that if Miles Edgeworth were to ever have a Tumblr blog it would be entirely Steel Samurai based with a carefully organized tagging system. He posts lengthy formally worded analysis about Steel Samurai and nothing else. He doesn't check his notes. He does check his asks, because they're kind of like emails. He has anon asks and dms turned off. Someone sends an ask about his interests outside of Steel Samurai and he immediately blocks them. He doesn't have pronouns or a name to be called by in his bio. The only hint about Edgeworth's personal life is that when he refers to the death of Jack Hammer or the conviction of Matt Engarde he only refers to Phoenix as "that man".
Maya definitely has a tumblr and it has a canon Pink Princess url. She actually hoarded a bunch of Pink Princess urls long before the character was officially announced because she knew she needed to have them. Her tumblr header is "the real pink princess ask sal manella". Her pinned post has these
Tumblr media Tumblr media
[ID: Two blinkie banners. The first has a lesbian flag background and says "Pink Princess is canonically gay." The second is light pink and says "PinkSteel shippers dni". End ID] (thank you @princess-of-purple-prose)
Maya follows him and sends Edgeworth asks periodically. He thinks she's a wonderful conversationalist. He has no idea of her identity. Maya is fully aware he's Edgeworth.
2K notes · View notes
stevebabey · 1 year
Text
Eddie has a test.
It took some time to formulate, a few too many times with guys careless with his heart, who leave behind more heartache than happiness littered in their memory. It’s fucking hard to tell.
More than once, there’s been a dude who promises between kisses i’m not going anywhere and takes more than his fill during a night which Eddie desperately hopes is passion and not some misguided lust. Only to wake a familiar empty side of the bed, them gone ��� skipping town, back in the arms of their parent-approved girlfriend, or back to spitting his name out with the word freak.
It’s what the test is for.
It’s specific, purposeful, all intending to weed out the straight boys who liked to dip their toes in the pool of queerness and leave Eddie to any consequences of the heart. Eddie doesn’t want to turn cruel, to be too jaded after feeling used too many times. It’s what the test is for. Protect the heart, see what interest is genuine.
Right now, he’s putting the test on Jared. New in town and in Eddie’s life, he’d captured the metalhead’s gaze from the glint of his pierced ear and light eyes that lingered. Kissed a little mean, and with too much teeth, but Eddie chalked it up to excitement. Jared seemed good. Nodded and smiled when Eddie found himself wrapped up in yet another DnD spiel. Said he found it endearing.
The test is simple.
A bid, a nudge, for attention. Never anything big or too exciting— that always got him specifically warped smirks designed to lead him along. Just something minuscule, like will you come take a look at my notes? or can i play you that riff once more? to see if it gave.
The pattern runs deep in Eddie’s dating history; same ol’ jerks who couldn’t bother to come and look at his new DnD sketches are always the ones who are only leasing a new sexuality for a month. It’s like setting a minefield and seeing who stumbles on a landmine, the bids getting ignored is as early as a warning sign he’ll ever get.
He tries the test on Jared.
It’s a Thursday night and Jared’s round at the trailer, lounging on Eddie’s sheets and still a little flushed from the night’s earlier activities. Usually it’s a good sign when the guys stick around after sex, not flying out the door once they’ve got what they want. By now, Eddie has drifted away from his bed, skittish thoughts already off and away with new campaign ideas.
He’s scrawling in a character design, some new boss, half troll, half hellhound, that requires a lot of finicky details worked out. The page is covered in scribbles, nothing in any semblance of lines and a crude first sketch is in the middle. It’s not quite the vision he had in mind but it took him an hour, so he’s hardly going to erase it. Besides, it looks pretty fucking metal to him.
“Hey,” Eddie calls out, a bit soft. No pet-names used— most of the time boys didn’t like them and wrinkled their nose. Those that didn’t mind, never returned them. “Can I show you the sketch I’ve been working on?”
He pauses, then launches into an explanation without waiting for a response, “It’s for the new campaign I’ve been planning, one of the bosses, and honestly, those little shrimps have no idea what’s coming for them.”
Jared, still slouched on the bed, peeks up a bit at the noise. He hadn’t really been doing much, just leafing through some of the junk beside Eddie’s bed. If Eddie let himself hold any hope, he would say it’s because he wants to know more about Eddie.
“Huh?” Jared asks, genuine enough that Eddie thinks maybe he didn’t hear him.
“A DnD boss?” Eddie says, eyebrows raising. He barrels on, thinking about how Dustin had helped propose the new boss, with a grin spreading across Eddie’s face. “Dustin, the little twerp, challenged me to pick a random combination of creatures and mash em’ together- see what crazy abilities come from it.”
“Who’s Dustin?” Jared asks, failing to sound like he cares. His eyes have wandered elsewhere, head falling back on the pillow and Eddie’s initial question about the sketch is long, long gone.
Oof. And that’s like 3 failed bids at one time because Eddie talks about Dustin all the time. Jared clearly isn’t interested in Eddie Munson, just what he can offer. Eddie’s heart grows a little colder.
“Look, I think I’m gonna get going, yeah?” Jared says, maybe sensing Eddie’s mood change as he begins to sit up and tug his shirt back over his bare skin. His sticks his feet in his shoes, laces them up. Eddie nods, tucks his notebook behind him and walks him out, plastering on a smile the whole time.
After ambling down the stairs to the trailer, Jared turns back, after searching the surrounding area for leering eyes, and he reaches out and gives Eddie’s hand a squeeze. Just a split second, before it flies back to his side.
Eddie would like to believe that he’s at least worthy of a goodbye kiss. Even if some wicked part of his brain says he’s not, that boys like Eddie Munson don’t get sweet goodbye kisses. Don’t get good relationships, just mindless flings.
The thought makes hurt flares in his gut, Eddie so desperately trying to protect his hope, and so before Jared can say anything, some pitiful goodbye, Eddie leans out the doorway and says, “Don’t call me.” then slams the trailer door.
It follows him around for the next week, his own personal storm-cloud to keep his head grey even when it’s sunny out. He mopes to Robin about it during her shift, probably the only other person he can talk to about it.
“So, you tested him? What does that even mean? Is there a gay test you know about that you haven’t told me about? That would be so uncool, man.”
She’s talking as she types, half paying attention to the computer. Steve is out in between the shelves, putting out a new batch of films— Eddie knows because he’d instinctively sought him out when he came in. Harrington was a pretty boy, sue him for wanting to enjoy the view.
Didn’t help he was also decidedly declared not-a-douchebag by Eddie during the whole upside down spiel and had the duality of biting off that bat’s head and somehow being the world’s biggest sweetheart for his friends. Friends that now included Eddie.
 What can you say? Going through that much together, including killing a death wizard and getting dragged out of an alternate dimension certainly forms some strong bonds. Plus, Steve was hot.
(Eddie denies the crush on the basis that would. never. happen.)
At the reminder of Vecna, Eddie winces and supposes he should be lucky he gets any sort of attention after that whole scandal. But it doesn’t stop him from draping himself across the front counter, laying pathetically with a pout on his lips. He shakes his head fervently at her question.
“Not a gay test, Robin.” He stresses. “It’s the Eddie-Munson-is-this-boy-gonna-stick-around-test.”
He rolls up onto his elbows and props his head into his waiting palms. “Gotta make sure I’m not being treated like some common whore.”
It’s meant to be a joke, a usual joking lilt to his voice, but the end of the sentences comes out a bit too bitter to land that way.
Robin’s sympathetic expression makes Eddie’s chest twinge in a way he doesn’t like. He waves her off. Slumps back down a bit before deciding he’s done enough wallowing in the public eye.
Robin doesn’t say anything as he pulls out his usual notebook, pages weathered and filled. Eddie usually hangs around the store on days without plans, flits between Robin and Steve, and scribbles in his notebook. She bites her lip, gaze moving between the book and the resigned expression on Eddie’s face as he turns to the latest page— the strange hellhound troll mashed up boss.
“Okay, I’ll bite—what’s the test involve?” She asks, pausing in her typing for a moment. Her hands don’t stop moving, still stressing the fabric of her pants twitchily. Eddie perks his head up, clutching his pencil a bit tighter and rolls right into it.
“It’s not even really a test, technically, but doesn’t matter- that’s just what I call it - it’s like a bid?”
Robin raises her brows and they disappear under her fringe. “A bid?”
“Yeah! A bid!” He waves his arms around as he speaks, gesticulating a bit wildly. “It’s like— like asking them to come look at something stupid and small, just to see if they’ll give your interests time of the day, yanno?”
He punches a finger down into his sketchbook. “A guy who can’t even be bothered to look at a sketch I worked on for an hour? Douchebag.”
Eddie’s tone turns a bit sing-song as he continues, like it’ll somehow distract from the bleakness of them. “Ergo, not sticking around.”
Robin’s hands finally stop their messing, becoming completely still against her legs. She finally swivels her body to face Eddie, a furrow between her brows. Her lips are quirked up, just a bit, like she knows something Eddie doesn’t. He feels his apprehension grow as he slumps his chin back into his hands.
“You mean, like how Steve is with you?”
Eddie stands a bit straighter at that, some flushed combination of disbelief mixing with delight flooded his body.
“What?” It comes out a bit more squeaky than intended. Eddie clears his throat, waves his hands, anything to stop that smirk from spreading across Robin’s face — he can feel his cheeks glow a bit warmer at the mere idea. “What is that supposed to mean?”
Robin smiles a bit and nods over to where Steve is. “Try it, test him.”
Eddie follows her nod, casting his eyes across the store to find Steve. He finds him situated in the romance section, a pile of cardboard box stacked beside him, the top box open and ready to be unpacked.
But Steve’s clearly been distracted by the first film in the box — he’s sunk deep into his mom-stance with one hip popped, one hand on his hip, the other holding the film as he reads the back cover of it very intently.
Eddie watches for just a moment, watches Steve squint and pull the case just a bit closer, wrinkle his nose adorably, snort a little laugh at whatever he’s reading — and dammit, this is just a fast track to insanity if Eddie watches him any longer.
“Steve,” he calls, too hesitant and too quiet. Steve’s head doesn’t move, he just flips the cover back over, marveling at the front. Eddie tries again. “Harrington!”
Steve’s head pops up, eyes skirting about to see who’s calling him. He doesn’t move when he sees it’s Eddie calling, just raises his brows. “Yeah?”
Eddie swallows, tries not to think of Robin paying close attention to both him and Steve. He grips his notebook a bit tighter even though he’s not entirely convinced Robin’s right. Steve Harrington doesn’t like DnD — not even for Dustin who has self-proclaimed himself Steve’s ‘adorable little brother that he never had’. Steve is hardly going to care if it’s Eddie asking.
“Do you wanna take a look at this sketch I’m working on?” He asks, as casual as he can.
Steve’s features give away just a hint of surprise, a blink as he comprehends what’s been said. Eddie holds his breath, ready to turn to Robin and say ‘I told you so!’ and to pretend that he’s not secretly hoping Steve will say yes.
“Sure,” Steve says, slotting the film back into the cardboard box and beginning to meander between the shelves towards the front desk. Eddie doesn’t even get time to be surprised because Steve’s suddenly there, in front of him, all expectant.
Eddie opens his mouth, thinks the better of it, and snaps it back closed. Instead, he thrusts the notebook to the side along the countertop, opened to the page of the sketch and doesn’t say anything. In the background, Robin snorts lightly. Eddie shoots her a glare.
If Eddie could look at Steve, he’d see the lightly amused expression on his face, but Eddie only focuses on the book. Really focuses. God, if he looks at Steve he’ll probably get some stupid mooned expression on his face that would totally give away his tiny stupid not-a-crush.
In his peripheral, he can see Steve sidle a little closer and lean over to peer at the page. And while he looks over it intently, Eddie let’s his eyes drift up, taking in the side of his face.
Curses his stupid handsome face. Then curses it some more when Steve lights up in recognition, turning to Eddie, excited to have a sliver of an idea what Eddie’s showing him. Normally, it’s all mumbo-jumbo to Steve. Not that he hasn’t tried to keep up but those kids are ahead of the curve and Steve wasn’t about to embarrass himself asking them to slow down their explanations.
“Woah, is this that one that Dustin was talking about?” Eddie thinks there might be a bit of genuine excitement leaking into Steve’s words.
“The weird like, mashed up, uh, what’s the word? Hyp- hypb—“
“Hybrid,” Eddie supplies, voice cool. His heart is not feeling so cool. Jesus Christ, Steve wasn’t supposed to pass Eddie’s test— he wasn’t even supposed to be tested. In order for that happen, they’d have to even be fooling around and Eddie blames his building blush on that mere suggestion.
“Yeah!” Steve raps his knuckles against the countertop and takes a second look at the drawing, closer this time. He looks back up at Eddie, so he knows he’s completely sincere when he says, “This is really cool, man.”
“Okay.” Eddie breathes, sounding a bit stupid. He remembers himself, remembers Robin watching him essentially bluescreen at the praise from Steve and wrenches his awed smile into a familiar smug type of grin. 
“Of course it is, Steve-o,” He quickly amends, reaching back and tugging the notebook back. It’s closes with a quick snap, like Eddie’s afraid Steve will take another look. “She’s not finished yet, of course.”
Eddie had to bite his tongue to keep it from either taking an insanely egotistical route to pretend Steve’s praise hadn’t had a profound effect on him, or even worse, start trying to suddenly be humble — oh this ol’ thing? it’s nothing really, just threw it together quickly— Eddie nearly melts against the counter in relief when the bell on the front door saves him.
A customer enters the store, instantly taking Steve’s attention and he bounds off to help them, an easy smile on his face.
Eddie waits until Steve and the customer wandered off into the aisles to release his breath. He doesn’t look at Robin, just turns and presses his forehead down against the countertop. Then raises it just a bit, and thunks it back down, a couple of times for good measure.
“Okay, okay—“ Robin’s gone a bit wide eyed and she waves her hands at Eddie’s pathetic form, his head still bonking against the counter. “Stop doing that. Jesus, Eddie, are the dramatics always necessary?”
His motions stop at Robin’s words and Eddie’s whips his head up. He narrows his eyes at her, and as if to prove his point, exaggeratedly jabs a finger at her.
“Hey! Never deny my right to be a drama queen. It is my god given right as an American citizen—”
“He passed.” Robin says, cutting off what was about to be a very long rant about god knows what. Eddie just didn’t want her to say what she was about to. “Your test. He passed, didn’t he?“
That. He didn’t want her to say that.
“He’s being a good friend! A very good nice friend!” Eddie counters, only sounding a little bit whiny which takes half the conviction out of his words. He slams his hands down against the wood. “That test is for— it’s not for him! It’s for—”
An annoyed noise comes out of Eddie’s throat and he aims for one more thunk of his head against the counter before tugging it back up and meeting Robin’s smug expression. She’s too smug. Her whole face is smug smug smug and Eddie scowls. He points a deliberate finger at her again.
“Different context, alright? That—” He waves an arm behind him, in the direction of Steve carelessly. “—doesn’t count. Nope. Not- that’s not how the test works.”
Robin sighs, as if she realises how fruitless it is to keep chucking this argument between the two of them. Her hands finally resume their typing and Eddie lets his head drop again, this time resting it against the wood a tad more gentle. He slumps, blowing a pointless raspberry as he tries to evacuate every thought that’s entertaining Steve as more. Or Steve wanting more of Eddie.
“Look,” Robin says suddenly, halting her typing once more. Eddie rolls his head so he can see her but doesn’t bother to lift it. She’s sideways in his vision, but still barreling on in that Robin way. “One last thing and then I swear, I’ll leave it.”
Eddie raises his brows. Says nothing.
“Have you considered,” She pauses, and appears to be trying to pick her words carefully. “whether anyone else is putting their bids on you?”
Eddie wrinkles his nose, knowing exactly what she’s hinting at. Subtlety has never been Robin’s strong suit. It’s even more obvious when her eyes dart across the store — Eddie seriously doubts she’s talking about the random customer that had just entered.
“Just think about it?” She pleads, and Eddie feels his annoyance at how easily he can feel his heart roll over. “See if you notice any bids from... anyone! Anyone at all.”
Eddie picks his head up, chances a glance towards Steve and admits, there’s no harm in trying. Even though, Steve had surprised him today Eddie can find a dozen reasons to chalk that up to. A dozen reasons that don’t include mutual feelings.
Eddie mulls it over, because because what are the chances really? Steve putting bids out to him? To specifically Eddie? The chances are slim to none.
So the answer he gives is, “Sure.”
He’ll get to tell Robin later she can stuff it and wipe her smug expression off with the most righteous i told you so on the planet. There was no way she was right about this, right?
Part two. Part three.
5K notes · View notes
missmisnomer · 29 days
Text
Haha, get booped, idiot
Tumblr media
516 notes · View notes
redrockbutch · 4 months
Text
Cishet Girlpower Feminist incapable of the self reflection required to admit having deliberately socially ostracized the GNC little girls they went to school with until all the girls in the entire class thought they were too gross and icky to even be around: ever since I was a little girl I have known that GNC women are treated better by men, because men hate femininity. My proof? Well, they were always hanging out with the boys, weren't they?
528 notes · View notes
sidras-tak · 10 months
Text
1K notes · View notes
tenmissedcalls · 11 months
Text
What a Shame
So you’re just friends. Only friends. And you’ve spent months convincing yourself you’re okay with that. (min ho x reader)
wc: 1.4k~
an: so i really didn’t think i would get this invested in this show... but here we are. this is a warmup for a longer fic i might end up posting. enjoy!
You’re starting to regret agreeing to come to this party.
The music is loud, bass pumping in your veins while you down your third mocktail of the evening. You’ve been camped out by the bar this entire evening, and you’re pretty sure the bartender is starting to feel bad for you. But Kitty and Q are nowhere to be seen, and your nerves get the better of you every time you consider joining the crowds on the dance floor.  
It doesn’t help that you’re increasingly insecure about getting all dressed up just to sit in the corner all night. Q had absolutely gushed over your outfit when you arrived, but suddenly it feels tight in all the wrong places and it hadn’t even been worth it, not when the guy you’d been hoping to notice you has barely looked your way all evening. 
But he certainly noticed Kitty, you think, trying to quell the bitter feelings roiling in your stomach. Not that you blame him. She looks incredible, really, and you’re more than happy for her that she’s starting to move on. You’ve never thought of yourself as the jealous type. It just has your mind turning over itself anxiously and you wave down the bartender for another mocktail to bury your feelings in.
This really isn’t your scene. You’re starting to consider taking the walk back to your dorm, given your curfew has already come and gone. You’re sure your friends wouldn’t mind, wherever they are. So you slide off the bar stool, legs stiff from sitting still for so long, when suddenly a hand grabs yours and you’re pulled face-to-face with a clearly intoxicated Kitty.
“How many drinks have you had?” you ask her, voice raised over the noise. Your mouth pulls itself into a frown when you smell the alcohol on your breath, and you do your best to steer her over to a chair. 
“Only… thirteen?” she begins, and the evident panic on your face has her own eyes widening. “No! Thirteen sips, not drinks. Thirteen sips,” she clarifies, and you heave a sigh in relief. You’re not even sure where she’s getting the alcohol from, but you’re sure more than enough students have smuggled in flasks of vodka.
“Are you having fun?” she shouts, louder than she has to, and now your expression is turning back into a frown. It’s not that you’re not trying - you’ve been to more than a few parties, and they’re usually enjoyable enough. But tonight is different, for reasons you can’t really put a finger on. 
Kitty notices immediately, even though she’s clearly verging on more than tipsy at this point. Her eyes narrow, and you try to backtrack as quickly as you can by forcing a smile onto your face.
“No! Yes. Yes, I’m having fun,” you blurt out, even though you’re starting to get a headache and the lights on the dance floor suddenly seem far too bright. 
Kitty shakes her head. “Don’t lie to me,” she pouts, and you suppress your laughter. “I know how to make you feel better- go find Min Ho,” she says, oblivious to the effect his name has on you.
Suddenly, you’re frozen. Right - he’s the reason you even came to this party in the first place (not that you want to admit it). It’s a strange dichotomy, the way he has you on edge and yet you’ve never felt more at ease than when you’re with him. And almost like it’s fate, you look up and there he is in the crowds.
He looks… good. Far too good. It’s unfair, really, the way he seems to glow in the lights. It’s effortless for him, the way his confidence spills over itself on the dance floor. You think you could lose yourself forever in the cut of his jawline and the spread of his shoulders. You don’t even like the color of the suit he’s wearing and yet he’s pulling it off in a way that makes you weak in the knees. You find yourself wishing for some of the alcohol that Kitty’s been drinking, because your nerves have your stomach twisting itself into knots.
“What do you mean?” you ask Kitty, voice wavering. She rolls her eyes like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. Maybe it is - you feel like you’ve never been vulnerable than when you look at him.
“You like him, don’t you? Go dance with him,” she says like she’s stating something as undeniable as the fact that the sky is blue. You stare at her, bewildered, for long enough that she physically grabs you and pushes you gently toward the dance floor. You don’t even dance, you think distantly to yourself. 
You forget that Kitty has this innate ability to pick up on people’s feelings - not that you’re willing to believe have any for him. Yes, he’s so pretty it makes your chest hurt. Yes, you’ve found yourself laughing at his stupid jokes in chemistry class more than you’d like to admit. Yes, you think that underneath his layers and layers of charm and charisma and defensiveness, he’s sweet and funny and smarter than he gives himself credit for. Yes, maybe you’d like to think that between the lingering glances and the lingering touches and the way he smiles at you, he’s caught feelings too. But you also know he’s not the type for commitment, and you’ve entrenched yourself firmly in the friend zone before he can hurt you. You can’t help but compare yourself to all the others falling over themselves for his attention, either.
So you’re just friends. Only friends. And you’ve spent months convincing yourself you’re okay with that.
And then you’re there, pulled into the mass of people dancing. Whatever song is playing is the kind that’ll be stuck in your head for the next week, and when you suck in a breath it tastes like teenage mistakes and rose-tinted memories. It’s almost overwhelming, and you lose sight of him immediately, until-
“You’re here!” 
His hand is on your elbow as he pulls you through the crowd, and the physical contact feels like pure electricity running through your nerves. His mouth curls into a smile at the sight of you, and it’s like it’s just the two of you on the dance floor all of the sudden. You don’t know whether you love or hate the fact that he has this effect on you.
“I couldn’t miss the best party of the year, could I?” you tell him, tilting your head up to look at him. 
Oh.
It’s like he’s drinking in the sight of you, eyes dragging up and down your face and lingering far too long on your lips. You wonder how embarrassing it would be if your legs gave out right now. 
“You… haven’t had anything to drink, have you?” you ask, voice strained, even though you know he would never, especially at his own party. He laughs.
“Of course not. Why do you ask?” he replies, leaning down ever so slightly, and the sudden eye contact has you flustered beyond belief. “What’s got you so shy all of a sudden? Is it me? I have that effect on people.”
“No! Of course not-” you sputter, although you’re sure he can see right through you. Normally you’d laugh his cockiness off, but something about being in such close proximity to him has your thoughts scrambled. Your mind races to think of an excuse for your jitteriness. “I just - we’re trying to help Kitty have her first kiss, and -”
You slap a hand over your mouth. Bad excuse, you chide yourself mentally. You’re sure Min Ho doesn’t want to hear about it, especially since he’s firmly siding with Dae over the whole issue, and something about the phrase first kiss has you feeling almost nauseous. 
“Oh, a first kiss. You too?” Min Ho asks teasingly.
“No, I’m just…” you trail off. The truth is you don’t really know why you’re here, when you really think about it. Yes, Kitty had convinced you to come by mentioning that the party was being thrown by Min Ho. But now that you’re here, you’re more than painfully aware of your feelings for him, and you’re at a loss as to how to deal with them. And now you’re thinking about it - kissing him.
You turn your head back towards him, eyes sticking to the dip of his throat disappearing into his collar. 
“What a shame,” he whispers, hand still lingering on your arm and you swear you see stars when he leans in closer. Your hand instinctively reaches up to hold onto his shoulder to steady yourself.
“Come find me if you change your mind.”
And then he’s slipping back into the party with a wink, leaving you completely and utterly breathless.
1K notes · View notes