#I logged back on I’ll make a post later about it but thank you

[neoncolorblocks]

That’s a lot of people !.?!.

[moonlinos]

Invisible string (pt. III)

♡ Pairing: Lee Minho × fem!reader

♡ Synopsis: After so many years of being closed off from the idea of love, you finally allow yourself to feel it freely with Minho.

♡ Genre: A ‘lite version’ of a soulmate AU, fluff, smut

♡ CW: Explicit sexual content (minors dni!), oral sex (female receiving), protected sex, swearing

♡ Word count: 16.4k

♡ A/N: A part of this chapter was almost shamelessly inspired by the song that inspired the plot in the first place, Invisible String by Taylor Swift. Also really inspired by my favorite Minho vlog, Lee Know Log 4 🩷

To those who have asked to be tagged in this story: would any of you be interested in being tagged in any new work I post later? Let me know! And thank you for reading and giving me such a great experience posting my writing here for the first time 🩷

← part II ♡ ⟳ part I

You spend the entire flight home processing everything that had happened during the trip; from Minho’s words, to your kisses and touches, to you ultimately acknowledging your own romantic feelings for him. Although it all felt sudden, it had been a long time coming.

As his car stops at the front of your house, Minho steps out and walks with you, your backpack in hand.

“I know you’re scared. I understand that even more now that I know about your past relationships,” he speaks softly as the two of you stop at the front door, “And I want you to know that I’m gonna be patient.”

You nod slowly, although the desire to answer him is still so prevalent in your mind, the words lodged in your throat and yearning to spill out. But you’ve made the mistake of jumping into relationships far too often, always driven by your emotions, and every time, the outcome has been disastrous. You don’t want that to happen with Minho.

So, you settle on a question that has been eating away at you.

“Why do you like me, Minho?”

His face twists into a deep frown before ultimately softening. Carefully placing your backpack on the step leading to the front door, he sighs.

“You shouldn’t have to ask me that,” he assures you, his rough hands touching your shoulders before moving down your arms to entwine with your own. “You don’t even realize how fucking amazing you are, do you? I’d move mountains, fight anyone and do anything if it meant I’d have the privilege to see you smile.”

And, just like that, you feel your lips stretch out into a small smile at his words. He grins at you.

“Just like that. I’d do anything to see that,” he says. “And you take care of your friends simply because you love them, never asking for anything in return. You collect plushies like me, you appreciate the criminally underrated flavor of lemon cake, and you worked at the same convenience store as me, and spilled coffee all over my notebook on the day we met. That’s why I like you; because you’re you.”

Tears threaten to well up in your eyes, so you quickly avert your gaze, focusing on your shoes. With a nod, you wrap your arms around Minho, taking in his scent and reveling in the comforting warmth of his body. Little did he know, you were just as willing to do whatever it took to keep him near you. He plants a chaste kiss on your forehead as you break away from his embrace.

“I’ll call you later, okay? Thank you for the trip.”

 

As soon as you step inside your house, Eunha is quick to come running towards you, her hands dirty with flour as she abandons her unbaked cookies on the counter and pulls you into a hug.

“I missed you so much,” she whines, “How will I survive living without you next year?”

You chuckle, watching as her lips turn into a pout.

“I’m sure we’ll suffer equally, if that makes you feel better.”

She fakes a sob, turning on her heels and heading toward the kitchen.

“Oh, Hyunjin is in a crisis, apparently,” she tells you, wiping her hands on her apron. “He called me three times just today to ask if you were back already.”

You let out a sigh. Hyunjin was more often than not either glum or vexed due to his trials and mishaps in finding love. He once joked that you two would end up having to marry each other with how things were going. You dreaded his reaction to the news of Minho soon entering your life in a new way.

“The hotel’s Wi-Fi was a joke, but I honestly didn’t even think to check my phone,” you tell Eunha, who giggles as she cuts her cookies into heart shapes. “What? Why are you giggling like that?” You ask her with a grin, approaching the counter.

She shrugs. “Nothing. I didn’t even think to check my phone,” she playfully mimics your voice, looking up at you, “I’m guessing you had fun, then?”

“I did,” you beam, “It was everything I thought it would be and even more.”

She raises an eyebrow at you. “Even more?”

“Even more,” you reiterate. “I had so much fun with Minho. I forgot how good it feels to just let go and allow myself to feel what I want to feel.”

Eunha’s lips curl into a small smile. She hums, lowering her head in a feeble attempt at pretending to focus on the cookies in front of her. “And what did you want to feel this weekend?”

“Like maybe I can finally fall in love again.”

Your friend lifts her head, her eyes wide. “Love?” she exclaims, “You, the girl who has spent every day since I met you talking about how love isn’t important, is wanting to fall in love?”

You chuckle at her reaction, shrugging dismissively. “In my defense, I had my reasons. Plus, some things made me change my mind.”

“More like someone,” Eunha teases, and you roll your eyes at her, but a smile spreads on your lips unwittingly. “I’m happy for you,” she beams, “and I think you should definitely fall in love again — not maybe.”

You sprint across the small kitchen space, circling around the counter to wrap your arms around Eunha and squeezing her as she lightly pushes you away, warning you about flour getting all over your clothes, but you don’t mind.

Because you love her, as you’ve learned this past weekend, and you don’t mind the mess when it comes to someone you love.

It’s only as you enter your room that you check your phone, which is filled with notifications from Hyunjin, much like Eunha had said. After ten missed calls, it seems he resorted to simply texting you.

Hyune: hey I know you’re in japan but can you answer the phone? Hyune: I promise I’ll be quick. just wanna talk to you Hyune: hear your voice idk I feel really alone rn and really bad idk lol Hyune: mingyu has his girlfriend over. can you believe they’re still together? Hyune: can you believe he has a girlfriend and I can’t even find someone to give me the time of day lol Hyune: can you believe every date I go to ends with me crying lol Hyune: sorry I’m being annoying and the messages aren’t even being delivered, you’re clearly having fun sorry Hyune: sorry Hyune: guess that’s why nobody can endure me for more than two dates Hyune: have fun 🤍 I love you

You feel your heart ache as you read his messages, answering with an apology. But before you can hit send on your second message, Hyunjin has already replied. 

Hyune: it’s okay. I’m sorry I even sent those in the first place

Me: Stop apologizing Me: You know I love you and I’ll always be here for you Me: Where are you?

Hyune: at my dorm Hyune: staring at the ceiling

Me: I’m coming over

True to his words, Hyunjin is lying on the floor of his dorm’s cramped living room once you open the door. There’s a small canvas propped up against the wall, a myriad of shades of blue forming the shape of a face. Your best friend’s talent never ceases to amaze you, and you have to fight the urge to stand still by the front door for a few seconds simply admiring his new painting.

“Look at this sulking Pisces,” you click your tongue as you approach Hyunjin, who only opens one eye to shoot you a glance.

“I’m in a fragile state and this is how you greet me,” he all but pouts before sitting up as you sit cross-legged beside him on the floor. “How was the trip?”

You shrug. “It was fun. We only had one day to explore the city, so we didn’t do much,” you say simply, tapping your fingers on your thigh.

You don’t want to sit and talk about how much fun you had during a trip when Hyunjin’s puffy, bloodshot eyes are staring directly at you. He was sad, and his sadness was palpable throughout the entire living room — his bitten lips, his painting, his hands covered in dried-up blue paint; everything was dripping in sadness. This was a constant with Hyunjin, but lately it had become even worse. He has an overwhelming desire to love and be loved, but his every attempt at fulfilling this desire is futile for reasons you cannot wrap your head around.

“I like the new painting,” you smile, focusing on the saddened blue face. Hyunjin scoffs beside you.

“It’s fucking terrible,” His hand shoves the canvas face down on the floor. You bite your lip. “Can’t even paint shit I like anymore. Every time I try, it always turns out muddy and sad.”

“What happened?”

He lets out a bitter chuckle. “Well I’m pathetic, so it’s still the same old reason. I had a date with this girl on Saturday, but she canceled at the last minute. Texted me something about me being too clingy after she agreed to go out with me, about how she knows she would feel suffocated if we dated.”

You furrow your brows together, anger bubbling up inside your chest. “What the fuck?”

“Oh, but don’t worry!” Hyunjin gave you a forced smile. “She made sure to remind me that it was her, not me, and that lots of women out there like guys like me. Whatever the fuck that means.”

Hyunjin shakes his head, turning his attention toward his hands before scratching some of the dried paint off. You sigh.

“Hyunjin, she isn’t wrong about that. You know that, right? You’re not the one at fault.”

He scoffs. “Sure seems like it when every date I’ve gone to since starting university has ended up with me being rejected for the same fucking reasons. It’s always me. Too clingy, too sentimental, too emotional,” his voice is almost a whisper as he speaks. He turns to face you again. “Remember how I would stop sleeping with you whenever I liked someone? Wanna know why I stopped doing that? ‘Cause I know it’s not gonna go anywhere anyway, so what’s the point? It never goes anywhere, and then I’m left alone again. Maybe I should just accept it, y’know? Some people are just meant to be alone, and clearly I’m one of them.”

Your anger has now morphed into sadness. You hate the way Hyunjin talks about himself, hate it even more how it seems nobody can appreciate the amazing person he is. Being caring and sentimental is not a flaw, and you pray that he never allows other people’s opinions to sway him into thinking that way. You pray he finds someone who can appreciate these qualities in him the same way you do.

“You’re not alone, Hyune,” you assure him, taking one of his hands in yours. “You’re surrounded by friends who love you so much, and while I know that’s not the type of love you yearn for, it’s still love.”

Hyunjin smiles softly at you before pulling you closer and pressing his lips to yours. It’s sudden but not entirely unexpected; the way you and Hyunjin dealt with shitty things in life and unpleasant feelings together had always been through sex, and you knew it always made him feel at least a little better afterward. And so you let him, returning the kiss even as part of you felt wrong doing it when your entire being was consumed with thoughts of only Minho.

As soon as he kisses you, he swiftly pushes you down onto the hardwood floor and hovers over you. Hyunjin’s fingers undo the buttons of your cardigan before slipping under your shirt, caressing your skin as his lips trail kisses down your neck. Soon enough, his body is pressed up against your spread thighs, and you know where this is going — but as much as you want to make your best friend feel better, you cannot bring yourself to do it.

“Hyune,” you softly call out, and he hums against your throat. “We can’t do this.”

He chuckles, squeezing your waist. “Mingyu always comes home late when he goes out with his girlfriend. Don’t worry.”

“It’s not that, Hyunjin. I just—”

“Do you not wanna fuck on the floor?” He asks, coming up to look at you. He cocks his head to the side. “We can just do it on the couch then, I really don’t wanna have sex with all those pictures of Mingyu and his friends staring at us in our room.”

“Hyunjin, no—”

“It’s not like we never did it on a couch before, stop being dramatic—”

“I’m in love with Minho.”

It comes out before you can fully comprehend what you’re saying, the word love slipping past your lips effortlessly. Hyunjin stills on top of you, his body rigid and tense. 

“Oh,” is all he offers you. You nod slowly, fingers picking at a drop of paint that stained the collar of his shirt.

You whisper, “I really am just as surprised as you are, believe me.”

Hyunjin shrugs. “I’m not surprised. I just— now you’re leaving me, too.”

You shake your head. It’s ludicrous to you that Hyunjin could imagine that you would ever even entertain the thought of leaving him. Running a hand through his messy hair, you pull him in and press a kiss to his nose. Hyunjin hides his face in the crook of your neck with a groan.

“Sorry, that was pathetic. I shouldn’t have said that,” he apologizes. “You know I don’t mean it like that. I just love you so much. I thought we would…”

You furrow your brows as he trails off his words. You thread your fingers through his long hair. “We would…?”

“End up together somehow,” he speaks slowly, his voice muffled, and your heart drops.

Hyunjin harboring these feelings about you was something you would never have imagined. You were certain he was content being your friend and having sex with you only until he found the right person. He went on several dates, after all. Your heart feels like it’s been shattered into a million tiny pieces upon learning about his hidden desire for the future he used to so often joke about: you two ending up together simply because you were each other’s only choices.

“Hyunjin,” you start carefully, “I love you, too. So much. You’re my best friend, and that’s never going to change. We don’t have to be together romantically for us to be in love, y’know? I realized that just recently.”

You feel him nod his head, his hand finding yours and intertwining your fingers.

“I’m just sad I won’t have you anymore. I’m gonna miss us so much,” he places a small kiss on your collarbone. “Whenever I felt like I was in a dark pit with no way out, every single time you were there to bring me out of it and make me feel okay again. I love you so much for that.”

And you can only softly smile at his words before your heart shatters all over again as you hear him quietly begin to sob in your skin.

“Hyunjin,” you call out, although you know he won’t reply. “You’re the most beautiful soul I’ve ever met. My love for you goes beyond us having sex — that wasn’t even important to me in our relationship. It was just something good on top of something already amazing.” With a slow nod, he lifts his head and gazes at you with red, teary eyes, causing your heart to ache even more. “I’ll never leave you. Ever. I’ll still answer your four hundred three a.m. texts, still let you hide away in my house, still happily listen to you complain about your days, and still hold you when you cry.”

Hyunjin pouts like a child, and your heart swells with fondness.

“Really?” He asks, and you chuckle with a nod.

“Really,” you assure him. “Me being with someone will never change our friendship, or my love for you. I mean, we won’t have sex anymore, of course, but I’ll still talk shit about your roommate with you so I’m sure you’ll forgive me.”

Hyunjin’s tearful expression vanishes, replaced by a small teasing grin. “I am gonna have to jerk off significantly more, so I don’t know about forgiveness,” he jokes.

You push him off you with a chuckle, sitting up as he tries to regain his balance.

“When did this whole thing with Minho even happen?” Hyunjin asks, setting his painting back against the wall. You shrug, buttoning up your cardigan. He hums. “So, are you already together?”

“Not yet,” you say, “but I’m gonna answer him after our class this week. If he fucking lets me, that is. He says he wants to be patient, but I don’t want to be patient. The only thing I wanna be is with him.”

Hyunjin’s whole body contorts as he groans. “Ew, what the fuck? When did you become such a sap?”

As you shove him back once more, you both burst into laughter while Hyunjin stumbles back and spills a mug filled with dirty paint water all over his floor.

The rest of the day goes by with you and Hyunjin painting together, a much broader array of colors and a much happier end result on the canvas: beautiful flowers painted by him standing alongside clumsily drawn hearts, stars, and other doodles painted by you. After signing your name above his elegant signature, you inform him the painting is leaving with you — it’s hanging up on your wall as soon as you arrive home.

Hyunjin is your best friend; it’s been this way for the last two years, and it’s indisputable to you that this fact will remain no matter what happens. As you watch him hunched over your painting, insisting that his flowers could be more detailed — even after you assured him a thousand times that they were perfect — you curse yourself for not realizing how beautiful this love between you two is. You hope he cherishes this love as well, in spite of his desire for the two of you to be together in the future. You know deep down this idea stemmed from his fear of solitude.

You’re not worried about him at all, though. He’s a precious soul, and anyone who fails to recognize that doesn’t deserve him. He’s simply getting rid of the wrong people in order to find the right person, someone who sees him as you do.

The love you feel for Hyunjin is unchanging, and if you had any say in it, it would be everlasting.

Your next Japanese class with Minho comes too soon, and you find yourself unprepared. Every trace of resolve you had after returning from your trip dissipated bit by bit every time you saw or talked to him. As soon as you saw his figure step into the coffee shop on Monday to pick up his usual order, you realized that every single scenario your mind had conjured up fell flat. Minho was beautiful, amazing, breathtaking — he deserved something grand and earth-shattering, not a simple answer from a girl who wasn’t even half as good as he was.

It certainly did not help that he, always true to his words, respected your time. Not once during his coffee trips or your never-ending talks through the phone did he mention the topic. And it was slowly but surely driving you insane.

You bite your lips so much on your way to university you’re sure your lipstick is gone by the time you enter the building, and you’re surprised your poor bag isn’t riddled with holes in the cloth from your insistent picking. You shouldn’t feel this nervous — Minho is the one waiting for an answer, after all. For all he knows, you could be simply building up the courage to let him down gently. But you are nervous. You’re terrified he will listen to your clumsy words and decide he deserves someone better. Or, worse yet, will only realize how undeserving of his love you are once you’re in a relationship.

And you don’t think you can face another heartbreak where you’re left to mend your gashes all alone.

You enter the building with shaky hands, fiddling with the strap of your bag and walking toward your classroom on autopilot as your mind is too busy running over all the ways in which this could go wrong.

All faded, however, once you saw Minho waiting for you in front of your classroom. His glasses slid down the bridge of his nose as he looked down at his phone, his body wrapped in a cozy-looking black sweater and sweatpants, a keychain of a cat plushie hanging from his backpack matching his phone case. You stop a few feet away from him. He deserves the world, and that terrifies you. Still, his presence alone melts away every ugly word of doubt and every piece of worry inside your body until the only thing you can feel is the swirling of that familiar pinwheel spinning inside your chest.

You greet him with a long hug, hoping he can’t feel your heart beating through your own sweater.

After class, he walks you to work, enthusiastically telling you about the progress he, Chan and Seungmin have made on their game. You nod and hum along to his words, but you can’t, for the life of you, focus on a word he’s saying. All you want to do is tell him you like him — god, you like him so much — but every time you’re close to doing it, the ugly words return and scream that he deserves more than an underwhelming confession on a gloomy, empty street.

You stop walking as you two reach the bench located just far away enough from the hustle and bustle of students on campus, the one where no one bothered you when you sat here by yourself for three years, the one that had oddly become your favorite bench among all the other identical ones scattered throughout your university.

Because it was here that you and Minho had your first real conversation, it was here where you two laughed and gasped at all the little coincidences between your lives, and it was here where you began to build a friendship with this wonderful guy who would unknowingly change you for the better.

It was the perfect place, and you berated yourself for not realizing that sooner.

Minho’s voice calling out your name pulls you away from your thoughts, his hand wrapping around yours and pulling you gently toward his body. You hum before colliding against his chest as he chuckles.

“You just stopped walking,” he says, a lilt of confusion in his voice. “I know you hate work, but I didn’t think it was this serious.”

And when you properly turn to look at him, Minho is smiling so beautifully under the somber sky of winter, as if he is the embodiment of sunshine — always glistening and radiating such a comforting warmth no matter how glum the world around him is. And, at the sight of him, you just can’t stop your words. Never mind how gloomy this campus seems or how lackluster your words are — Minho’s presence alone makes everything become golden.

“I like you because you’re you,” you mirror his words at you, “Because you laughed in my face for spilling coffee all over your notebook when I didn’t even know you, because you love coffee just as much as I hate it, and because you believe in silly myths about riding paddle boats together,” You blurt out, words completely unbidden by your brain. Minho’s eyes widened for a beat before slowly turning into crescent moons as a smile spread across his lips. You take a deep breath before continuing, the words flowing out of you so quickly you’re worried he won’t be able to understand you, “And you opened my eyes to the love I feel for my friends, which I was so fucking stupid and blinded to. But, most importantly, you taught me that love isn’t bad. It can never be bad because you’re love, Minho. You’re full of love, and there’s not an ounce of anything bad in you. And you make me feel deserving of this love, even though I still don’t understand how I can be deserving of something so beautiful.”

Minho’s arms are pulling you into an embrace before you can process everything you said, and by the time you seem to come to your senses, you realize tears have welled up in your eyes. He holds you close to him silently for a while, his left hand delicately massaging your scalp as you clutch onto the fabric of his sweater as if he might be taken away from you if you let go.

“I like you, too,” he whispers against your hair, and you feel your lips contort into a pout.

“You already told me that,” you grumble. “I just word-vomited my feelings to you and this is all you have to say?”

He chuckles, pressing a kiss to your head. “What else is there to say? I like you so much I don’t think I can put it into words. I might just say something stupid if I talk about it too much.”

You furrow your brows, pulling away from his embrace to face him. “Something stupid like what?”

“Like saying I love you.”

Your lips part, but no words come out. Yet again, Minho has rendered you speechless. He shakes his head dismissively, a smile still etched onto his lips.

“No need to say anything. I told you it was stupid,” his eyes drift over to the bench beside you two, and his smile grows. “Guess this has to become my favorite bench too.”

You let out a laugh, but it’s cut short by your tears spilling out again. Minho quickly turns to look at you again, his expression shifting into a mixture of happiness and worry for you as he wipes your tears away with his thumbs.

And as the sun begins to set, the street lights flicker on, casting a warm, yellow glow over everything around you. You cup Minho’s face and press a chaste kiss to his lips, then to his nose, before wrapping your arms around him and pulling him into an embrace once again.

“I don’t think I’m ready to love you yet. I’m sorry,” you apologize, both to him and yourself.

Minho simply hums, kissing your cheek. “I told you I’m patient, because love is patient. I would wait an eternity for the privilege of hearing you say you love me.”

You and Minho have officially been together for almost two months by the time winter break arrives. You’ve done everything couples do, except for two things: say I love you and go all the way. You’ve done every other possible thing — well, Minho has done every other possible thing to you, with you discovering that Minho particularly loves eating you out, often laying on your lap on your couch after work and rubbing his head against your thighs like a cat, humming and sighing until he has your attention before all but begging you to let him go down on you. Whenever you offer to do the same to him, in any way, he immediately turns the offer down, saying he’s satisfied just pleasuring you. It always leaves you with a million questions, as you notice him have to adjust himself in his pants or coincidently go to the bathroom, but you don’t question it.

The two of you also found ways to get around the whole L-word situation. I missed you becoming your go-to phrase for when you want to scream out that you love him, but are still unable to, while he usually just makes you swallow both your words and his own that are lingering inside your mouth with a kiss.

You had fallen into a routine quickly, with you visiting Minho most evenings after your shift to just lay on Chan’s stiff leather couch and watch him work. You two always hang out with his co-workers slash friends for a while before leaving for the night — Seungmin becoming like the pestering but loveable little brother you never had — and you head to your house in Minho’s car before you sneak him into your home so Mrs. Choi remains none the wiser.

Her ‘no boyfriends spending over two days at the house’ rule can’t possibly apply if she doesn’t even know Minho is there in the first place.

And so, he’s been basically living alongside you and your housemates. This outcome was almost inevitable since Minho hates his roommates while you love each other’s company.

You’re now packing your things with Hyunjin, who’s been sitting on your bed for the last half-hour rather than helping you as he’d promised. In the past month, he’s been able to come to terms with the fact that his ideal future with you was nothing but a coping mechanism after a month of sulking every time Minho was around. He deleted every shitty dating app on his phone and now focuses on finding love naturally, recently going out with a girl he met in one of his classes. The first time they met was the epitome of a meet-cute, with her accidentally bumping into him and spilling black paint all over his shirt. It brought back memories of when you first met Minho, and you had high hopes that this time things would work out differently for him. But, judging by the scowl on Hyunjin’s face and his nonstop complaining, you were wrong.

“But, be for real, why did it take her six dates to realize she doesn’t think we’ll work out?” He grumbles, spinning one of your necklaces around his finger like it’s a toy. “I paid for every meal, made sure she got at least two orgasms every time we went out, and she just suddenly decides we won’t work out? Fuck off.’’

You chuckle, closing your suitcase after triple-checking that you packed Minho’s Christmas present and walking over to where Hyunjin is sitting, snatching your necklace from his hand.

“Maybe she liked the free food and orgasms too much to let them go.”

Hyunjin scowls. “You’re saying that’s the only reason she went out with me?” He feigns offense, shaking his head. “I hope Minho’s parents hate your guts.”

“Hyunjin!” You exclaim, watching as he bursts out laughing. “Don’t even joke about that. You know how nervous I am.”

“There’s no way they won’t like you,” He assures you, “You’re fucking amazing, not to mention their son loves you. That’s more than enough reason to love you too.”

You clutch the necklace in your hand, humming before turning on your heels to check your drawers for anything you might have missed. Hyunjin using the word love makes you a bit anxious, an unwelcome reminder that you still haven’t been able to overcome this stupid emotional blockage preventing you from telling Minho you love him. The first and only time you’d ever said you loved Minho was that evening at Hyunjin’s dorm, and it hadn’t even been directed at him. Without saying a word, you both understand the love that exists between you — it’s unspoken, but deeply felt — and you’re aware of that, but the fear that one day he’ll grow tired of waiting is painfully tangible inside your mind.

When Minho invited you to spend Christmas with his family, you hesitated at first. Meeting your ex-boyfriends’ families had never been so significant. You were a teenager at the time, the implications were different and the stakes didn’t seem as high. This time, it feels as if getting Minho’s parents to like you is indispensable. How will he go on dating a woman his parents deem unfit for him? Especially with how highly he speaks of his mother, you’re sure her opinion of you will weigh on his mind.

You can only hope they love you half as much as you love their son.

The car ride to Minho’s parents’ house was around half an hour.

Half an hour you spent picking at a loose thread on your skirt and overthinking so much your head ached by the time he parked the car. You hated how nervous you were, but Minho’s parents liking you was a non-negotiable. 

After insisting on carrying your own suitcase — just in case his parents might think you’re an overbearing girlfriend if they see Minho carrying your bag for you — the two of you walk up the stairs and into his home. The first thing you notice is how cozy-looking everything is; from the family pictures neatly placed on coffee tables and on the walls, cat furniture and toys mixed in with their actual furniture, down to the fuzzy blankets thrown over the couches.

The second thing that catches your attention is the quietude permeating throughout the house, as well as the fact that the first family member to greet you two is an orange cat.

“Oh, did you miss me this much?” Minho asks in a sweet, singsong voice, similar to how you would speak to a baby. He crouches down to pet the cat, who is now entangling himself between his legs. He introduces you by your name, because Soonie is truly just another family member to him. You chuckle, kneeling next to him and carefully extending your hand toward the orange ball of fur.

“Hello, Soonie,” you speak quietly, afraid you’ll spook him. He eyes you carefully before sniffing your fingers and, ultimately, rubbing his head on your hand. You sigh in relief, petting his fur with a smile.

Minho’s cats liking you was also a non-negotiable.

You place your suitcases in Minho’s childhood bedroom, his parents letting him know they will arrive a little late after going Christmas shopping. Looking around his small room, you smile at all the small things that scream Lee Minho. The pictures of him and his friends back in high school are the first thing you notice, glued to the wall in front of his door lopsided. His thick-rimmed glasses and bowl cut make you smile as you analyze one of the pictures, where he and four other boys hug and smile widely in a karaoke room. Then, of course, his extensive plushie collection sat against a wall to your left — all stacked on top of each other like a mountain — which he proudly shows off to you.

“Y’know, I had to basically fight a little girl at the Sanrio store for this one,” he says, a bit too smugly, while holding a plush of Kuromi dressed in a ladybug costume. “I was sixteen, though, so I think that excuses my behavior. I would never do that nowadays.”

You narrow your eyes, humming skeptically. “Sure you wouldn’t.”

Minho just chuckles, meticulously placing the doll back in its place beside the cherry on top of a rather large Pusheen pudding plushie.

“Oh! You have to see my books.” He takes your hand in his, dragging you toward the wall facing his bed. A bookshelf expanding from the floor to the ceiling makes your mouth drop. You hadn’t noticed it before, with it being hidden away in the corner of the room. The bookshelf is decorated with fairy lights — which Minho promptly switches on — and filled with beautiful books, from intricately designed hard covers to intricate sprayed edges, every single book in his collection has something special about it.

He uses a small metal ladder to reach the top of the shelves before handing you a book so thick your wrist almost bends upon grabbing it. It’s a collection of seven Jane Austen novels, all in a gorgeous blue and golden hardcover. You eye the book like it’s a precious jewel, carefully running your fingers over the details engraved on the cover. Beside you, Minho lets out a breathy laugh, stepping down from the ladder and bumping your shoulder lightly.

“You can open it,” he tells you, but you’re still too mesmerized by the book to look at him. “It’s what books are for, whether they’re pretty or not. You have to open it and read it, otherwise they lose their purpose.”

You nod slowly, but remain unmoving. Minho’s hand suddenly rests on top of yours, and he opens the book for you. The page is entirely annotated, with highlighters and thoughts jotted down on pencil in messy handwriting. Looking up at him, you are met by his smile.

“See? The book is fine, the world didn’t end. I have these special editions because I enjoy collecting pretty things, but I always read them,” he explains, “I like when books reflect the emotions I felt while reading them. I annotate, scribble, highlight — I once threw a special edition Stephen King book across the living room and into a wall. There’s an indentation on it till this day.”

You gasp. “Minho, what the fuck?”

He shrugs dismissively. “I know, I know. All book sins in the eyes of many people. But, like I said, that just reflects the emotions I felt while reading that book. I look through any of these pages and I know exactly what I felt at that time of my life.”

You nod, your lips absentmindedly curling into a smile. Minho truly is something else. You skim the page opened before you, reading some of his annotations and laughing quietly to yourself as he wraps his arms around your waist, resting his chin on your shoulder.

As you close the book, he speaks again, “They’re a bit like people, aren’t they? Pretty and put-together on the outside, but once you really dig in, it’s all a mess and cluster of feelings and passion.”

 

You and Minho spend an hour lounging around the living room, with you meeting his other two cats during that time. Soonie and Doongie’s adoration toward Minho is clear, with both orange cats always rubbing against his leg or tangling themselves in his sneakers by the door as you two cuddle on the couch. Dori, however, remains laid on his cat tree, barely sparing the two of you a glance. Minho jokes that Dori hates him after he left his first mom, even showing you further proof in the form of a video where the gray cat bites his nose while he sleeps.

Upon hearing the key turn on the front door, your heart is quick to jump. Minho’s parents have arrived.

Sitting up on the couch, you gently push Minho away from you. He shoots you a questioning look.

“What? I don’t want them to think we were doing something indecent.”

“Indecent?” Minho repeats with a chuckle. “We were cuddling, not consummating a marriage on this couch.”

You grumble incoherent words under your breath, shrugging. “I know. I just want them to like me.”

“They were more than okay with seeing me cuddle my ex when I was a teen. We’re both adults, I’m pretty sure they won’t think you’re a filthy harlot.”

You gasp, hitting his chest and hissing through your teeth. “A harlot?”

Minho lets out a long, hearty laugh just as his parents walk through the door.

“Oh, there you are!” You hear his mother’s voice call out as soon as she steps inside the living room. You turn to face her and you’re greeted by the same smile you see on Minho’s face every day — they look so similar you have to hold back a gasp. “It’s so nice to finally meet you!”

You stand up from the couch and smooth down your long skirt, smiling while she walks toward you. You’re caught off guard when she pulls you into a hug as soon as she’s in front of you, her arms squeezing you as she sighs happily into your hair.

“Mom,” Minho calls out, “You’re scaring her.”

His mom pulls away with a chuckle, her left hand pinching her son’s cheek before resting on your shoulder again. “He’s the one who’s scared I’ll embarrass him,” she refutes. “And, god, you’re so pretty! Minho told me you were beautiful, but I just assumed it was the infatuation speaking.”

You feel your cheeks flush at her words, biting back a smile. Minho had talked to his mother about you — had said you were beautiful. You swear if you died tonight, you would die a happy woman.

As his mother steps away from you and into the kitchen, rambling on about how crowded the shopping mall had been, a man comes into your field of vision. He nods courtly before extending his hand, which you shake a bit awkwardly.

“I’m Minho’s dad,” he simply says. “It’s nice to finally meet you. Minho has been very happy on the phone since meeting you.”

And with that, he’s off into the kitchen, following his wife. You’re left a bit dazed. Minho truly was a perfect blend of his mother’s appearance and his father’s calm personality. 

Beside you, Minho pulls you into a side hug, his chilly hands caressing your arms. “See? It’s impossible not to love you.”

You freeze for a moment, before relaxing as you realize he’s talking about his parents loving you. You curse yourself inwardly for being so damn emotionally constipated, but let out a sigh of relief nonetheless.

You were worried for so many different reasons — that you wouldn’t measure up to Minho’s first girlfriend, that your personality would be scrutinized until your flaws finally emerged, and that this would be the catalyst for Minho to realize you’re not worth it. Not worth waiting until you can tell him you love him, not worth waiting until you feel like sex isn’t going to just ruin everything between you, not worth the hassle and the chore that is loving someone like you.

But as he walks into the kitchen with you, his arm wrapped firmly around your waist, like he’s proud to show you off to his parents, the level of reliability he radiates is enough to melt away all the annoying little worries you had inside your head.

Christmas eve comes two days later, and you’re rudely woken up in the morning by the sound of Minho’s voice cursing under his breath as he drops something on the floor by his bed. You groan, rubbing your eyes, and he turns to face you with an apologetic look on his face.

“Sorry,” he whispers, kneeling down next to the bed and pressing a chaste kiss to your forehead. “Good morning.”

“What time is it?”

“Eight, I think.” His fingers brush your hair away from your face. “I didn’t set an alarm ‘cause I didn’t wanna wake you up, but guess my inability to be quiet did that anyway.”

You chuckle lightly, scrunching up your nose. “Why are you up so early?”

“Gotta start cooking dinner soon,” he explains.

“Already?” You ask, perplexed. You knew he cooked Christmas dinner all by himself every year for his family, but you never conceived just how much work that would be for a single person.

Minho is unyielding despite your best efforts at persuading him to stay and cuddle you for a few more hours, and watching him cook is always oddly attractive to you, so you find yourself joining him in the kitchen, wrapped up in one of his many cat print sweaters.

At first, you simply sit up at one of the counters and watch him, mesmerized and all but drooling at the way he rolls up his sleeves, the prominent veins making his arms look so sexy while doing such a mundane thing like chopping fucking vegetables. Not to mention his hands, so beautiful and big as he rubs the seasoning on something you don’t even care to identify because you’re just too busy thinking about those hands all over your body. Only now do you notice how no real sex for almost two months has really taken a toll on you, what with the way you have to cross your legs just to try and relieve some tension because your mind won’t stop thinking about Minho’s veiny arms caging you against this counter and his big hands—

Minho calls out your name, and you snap out of your fantasies, humming as you reluctantly turn your attention toward his face with a dazed expression. He seems to find it funny, as he chuckles before repeating himself, “I asked if you would like to help. I can teach you some of the easy stuff. Must be boring just sitting there and watching.”

Oh, but it isn’t boring at all.

But you’d never tell him that, so you nod before hopping off the counter and awaiting further instructions. Turns out you’re worse at cooking than you had thought, so you’re relegated to chopping duty, which you hate for two reasons — firstly, chopping vegetables is boring, and secondly, you’re now deprived of your view of Minho as you stand with your back turned to him while he cooks.

It’s around five p.m. when Minho’s mom joins you two in the kitchen, and by that time you’ve done all you could, so you’re back to your spot on the counter. She smiles at you before ruffling Minho’s hair as he closes the oven.

“My baby is such a wonderful cook, isn’t he?” she praises, and he shrugs with a smirk.

“I am very boyfriend material, aren’t I?”

You chuckle as you watch his mom carefully fixing his hair which she had messed up, Minho scrunching up his face as she then fixes his wire-frame glasses on his nose.

“I’m so glad you’re wearing your glasses again,” she comments, cupping his cheeks and squeezing before letting go. “You look so handsome.”

“You should thank her,” Minho smiles, turning to look at you, and you shoot him a puzzling look. “Remember on your birthday, when you told me I looked good wearing glasses?” He asks, and you nod slowly. “That’s why I stopped wearing contacts.”

Your mouth opens, but you can’t find the words to answer him. You can feel your cheeks dusting pink as his mom coos at the two of you, saying something about young love that has you gnawing on your lips to hold back the silly smile you want to let out.

Minho’s mom leaves the kitchen shortly after, his father calling her from the living room. He takes this as his chance to approach where you’re sitting, hands resting on your thighs before he presses his lips against yours.

“I wanted to look handsome for you. It’s kinda pathetic, isn’t it?” He chuckles against your lips, and you simply shake your head, tangling your fingers in his black hair that has now grown past his eyes.

“It’s actually fucking adorable,” you assure him, pulling him into another kiss, one much deeper than the last.

He quickly uses his hands to spread your thighs apart, pressing his body into yours as you wrap your legs around his waist. The effect this man has on you is mindboggling; the mere slide of his tongue against your lips has you shivering. It certainly doesn’t help that you are now in the exact position from your imagination earlier today.

Minho always tasted like your own personal favorite flavor, always deliciously swirling on your tongue whenever you kissed him. He always renders your mind fuzzy and silly as bliss consumes the entirety of your being. You can only imagine how sex with him will feel like, and you don’t think you can wait any longer. Your worries be damned. You needed him more than you could handle.

But just as Minho pulls you closer to his body — your core dangerously close to his crotch, and sucking on your tongue in a way that has you mewling against his lips — his mother calls out your names, and you two quickly separate, startled as if you were burned. She informs you his grandmother has arrived and you two walk to the living room to greet her. You silently thank the universe for her not walking into the kitchen; the last thing you want is for Minho’s poor grandmother to catch you two making out on the counter like two teenagers.

She is a sweet lady, certainly not as old as you expected her to be, and she always has a smile etched onto her lips stained with red lipstick. You don’t even have to ask to know she is his mother’s mom, as the three of them share the exact same smile you grew to love so much.

You find yourself even more comfortable today, as you help both women set up the table for dinner — his grandma meticulously placing a beautiful lace cloth over the table while telling you about how this was one of her late husband’s first gifts to her when they first moved in together. 

It felt as if you were part of the family.

And as you turn on your heels to grab the fancy silverware from a cabinet, your eyes meet Minho’s gaze. With a smile on his face, he stands by the kitchen door, watching you, and your heart swells with joy.

This was everything you never thought love could be.

Christmas dinner was amazing — as you knew it would be. Minho’s cooking is always fantastic, and pure happiness is written all over his face whenever he was complimented. The way he offers to serve everyone, watching intently as each of you took the first bite before he finally allowed himself to eat as well, his lips upturned into a grin and his ears red as you all hummed and gasped at how tasty everything was. It’s his love language; from the way he carefully and methodically prepares the food, to the way he enjoys watching other people eat more than eating himself. He shows his love through his cooking, you realize, and you smile as you think back to numerous times you woke up in the morning with a beautiful table set with breakfast for you after he spent the night at your house.

You haven’t put it into words yet, but he has unquestionably been showing his love for you through his little actions.

And that’s what you want to do tonight as well.

After watching a cliche Christmas movie with his family, you two are now the only ones awake with you drying off the dishes Minho’s washing. He looks beautiful even now, with his hands clad in neon green dishwashing gloves.

“Minho,” you call out, poking his rib with the plate he just handed you. He squirms with a giggle, warning you to not tickle him. You simply hum, continuing as nonchalantly as you can. “Do you wanna have sex tonight?”

His hand stills, dropping a knife on the sink as his head turns abruptly to look at you, eyes bewildered. “What? What, and you ask me this now? While we’re doing the dishes?” He sputters, and you grin with a shrug.

“It’s not a big deal,” you say, placing the plate on top of the counter. “I just… really wanna do it. Really want you.”

Minho turns off the tap — at least five knives left ignored at the bottom of the sink — removes his gloves and lets out a heavy sigh.

“Okay, not what I expected to happen on Christmas night, but I’ll take it.”

You both stare at each other for a beat, before inexplicably bursting out laughing. Maybe it’s the sheer suddenness of your request, or the absurdity of the situation you were in when it happened, but you can’t help it.

As you both calm down, Minho pulls you into his arms and informs you that he will have to go out and buy condoms, since he truly wasn’t expecting anything to happen. You don’t fault him, the two months you’ve been together were filled with you all but running away from sex. You couldn’t help it, your brain always dragging you back to that night in Japan, and the way he avoided your gaze in the morning. Although you knew it was irrational, and that he was simply shy, your self-sabotaging skills were too great, and your mind insisted that if you had sex with Minho too soon he would think you were nothing but a slut. That’s what you were told most of your life, anyway, so you couldn’t be blamed for the way your brain was almost conditioned into assuming the same.

But Minho had proved time and time again that he was not like the awful guys before him, and that all your worrying was unwarranted and foolish. You were depriving yourself of something you wanted badly out of sheer insecurity and attachment to experiences so far in the past it was almost masochistic at this point.

You insist on joining him on his impromptu trip to the convenience store, only throwing one of his sweaters over the dress and tights you wore for Christmas dinner.

Minho holds your hand as you two walk down the empty street, Christmas lights from the houses and stores making everything seem almost like a movie. You spot the familiar logo from across the street, and Minho bumps his shoulder with you while you head toward the convenience store chain where you both once worked.

“This is actually the exact one I used to work at,” He tells you as you look through a fridge hidden away in the back of the store. “I loved working the graveyard shift. I rang up so many couples awkwardly buying condoms like they were buying hard drugs.”

You chuckle, settling for some pudding you two could share later. “Will that be us tonight?”

He shrugs. “We’re adults, it’s normal to buy these things. Unless you want me to act like I’m buying crack cocaine, then I’d be happy to indulge you.”

You stick your tongue out at him with a light shove, turning to look through the rather lacking options on the condom shelf.

“Grape flavor?” Minho makes a face as he eyes one of the boxes. “Who the fuck would want the artificial taste of grapes when fucking?”

You shrug. “Could be worse, imagine banana-flavored condoms. I think I’d throw up all over your dick.”

“That’s sexy,” He jokes, and you let out a loud chuckle, earning you a look from the only other person at the store this time of night on Christmas eve.

Among your other options are a green glow-in-the-dark condom — which would only make you think of Shrek while Minho fucks you — and a strawberry-flavored one. You decide to play it safe, grabbing a box of plain, thin condoms and placing them in the basket Minho’s carrying.

“Let’s just go for the safest option,” you tell him, “We’ll have plenty of time to play around later if you want, though I’ll go on birth control once we’re back home so we won’t even need them anyway.”

You watch as Minho’s eyes widen for a second, his eyebrows shooting up almost comically.

“Sure, yeah.”

“Don’t short-circuit now. I need you functioning to fuck me.”

“Keep saying shit like that and I’ll be broken before we even make it back to my house,” he states matter-of-factly, and you chuckle, shaking your head at his words. But Minho’s expression remains unchanged. “I mean it. It’s been over a year since I’ve had proper sex. I’m surprised I didn’t combust the second you said those words to me in the kitchen.”

With a chuckle, you pull him to your side and walk toward the cashier. It’s a poor teenage boy, no older than eighteen, clearly bored out of his mind and wishing to be anywhere but here. As he rings up your items, Minho points to his phone that’s resting on the counter.

“That’s Ahri from League of Legends, right?” He asks, and the boy looks up, his eyes sparking with interest. He nods. “I don’t play, but I’m a game programmer, so I know a little bit about it. What’s your rank?”

“Grandmaster,” the boy answers proudly, his face lighting up with a hint of joy, probably for the first time since his shift started.

“Oohh,” Minho gasps loudly, basically hyping up this random boy at the convenience store. You watch the interaction with a silly smile on your face. “And you’re still young, wouldn’t be surprised to see you at World’s someday.”

The boy shakes his head dismissively as Minho hands him his card, but smiles nonetheless. Once he hands you your things, he speaks again, “Are you from around here, hyung? Let me know when you have a game out, I’d love to try it. See if you’re any good.”

Minho raises his brows at the obvious teasing lilt in his voice, lips upturning into a grin. “How about this? I’ll give you the beta code and you can start your career of testing games for money.”

“You’ll pay me?” The cashier marvels at the words, and Minho simply nods. He jots down a code from his phone into a scrap piece of paper on the counter, the boy’s face now a complete shift from the expression he wore when you first walked in, all because of Minho and his ability to be kind and sweet no matter the person or circumstance.

As you head back to his house, only the two of walk along the shy streets as the clock hands turn past midnight. Among all the bad people in this world, you’re indescribably happy that a man as good as him is the one walking beside you down this street, firmly holding your hand.

You arrive home and quietly head straight into Minho’s room. You thank any higher power that might exist for the fact that his room is the only one on the first floor, as you would have to endure your desperate need and desire for him until you got home if it wasn’t. Any of Minho’s family members walking in or hearing you two have sex would make you want to flee the country and change your name.

He joins you after storing your puddings in the fridge, making you jump with his arms wrapped around your waist while you were blankly staring at the pictures on his wall. You sigh, the realization of what was going to happen only really dawning on you now that you stand in Minho’s bedroom, and your mind starts to wander and doubt everything all over again.

“I kind of ruined the mood by asking to have sex, didn’t I?” You ask as Minho places a chaste kiss on your cheek before resting his chin on your shoulder.

“There was really no mood in the first place,” he lets out a breathy chuckle. “We were washing the dishes.”

You roll your eyes, once again more annoyed at yourself than at him. You could only hope that your awful propensity of bringing up these irritating thoughts of yours at the worst possible moments didn’t drive Minho away from you. Could only hope you were worth it in the end.

“I know, it’s just…” You trail off with another heavy sigh. “This guy I dated hated that. Said I should just initiate it instead of asking like it was a business transaction.”

You feel Minho shake his head. “That’s stupid. Why would I think that?” He sounds incredulous, and hearing him say it makes you realize just how asinine that thought really was. “We had to buy condoms, anyway. It’s also good that you’re comfortable asking me that. It’s as it should be.”

And you can only smile, biting back a giggle because of course he thinks that. It’s as if Jane Austen came back from the dead simply to write Lee Minho.

His arms tighten around your waist, and you turn your head to look at him. “You should really stop thinking about… them,” He hesitates, “Your exes, I mean. Stop comparing, assuming everything will be the same and have the same sad ending. You need to let go of that in order to truly heal. I hate how every time I’m good to you, or do the bare fucking minimum, your mind spins it into something being your fault. I hate what they did to you so much.”

You feel your breath get caught in your throat, tears threatening to spill much like they do every time you are faced with this topic. But you hold them in. You don’t want to cry, not right now, not when everything is so perfect with Minho. So, instead, you take in his words. He’s undoubtedly right, and you must force yourself to face this uncomfortable truth.

Slowly, you promise yourself. You smile at him, a silent promise to him, and you know he understands you when he smiles back, his lips pressing a kiss to your lips.

He lets go of you and rummages through his drawers, and you look around once more. His plushie mountain, the pictures of his childhood and high school days. You scrunch up your nose.

“Will it be too weird to have sex in your childhood bedroom?”

From where you’re standing, his back turned to you, you can faintly make out the tip of his ears turning red as he runs a finger through his hair.

“Well, not really…” He trails off, “I had sex with my ex-girlfriend here all the time when we skipped school together.”

You let out a gasp. “Lee Minho skipped school?”

He chuckles, closing his drawers and immediately wrapping his arms around you. He’s a lot more touchy since you brought this whole topic up, you notice.

“My parents were always at work, though, so this is my first time doing it while they’re right upstairs,” He explains, bringing his finger up to your lips and lowering his voice to a harsh whisper. “So we’ll have to be quiet.”

You roll your eyes with a smile, nodding. You know all too well you’ll probably be too quiet. Once again your trauma playing a part in this, the words an old boyfriend harshly spilled about you being too loud and vocal have always been present in your head. Now that you think about it, all these moments and words are like post-it notes stuck to your mind, and you skim through like a student cramming for an exam every day in search of one that applies to your current situation. It was excruciating.

Hyunjin tried his best to change this about you, always assuring you he liked to hear you during sex when he noticed your pursed and bitten lips, and that you should be vocal about what you want and like. But you always settled for nods and quiet hums instead.

Minho presses a quick kiss on your forehead then. “I’m gonna shower ‘cause my hands still smell like onions and garlic after washing them a thousand times,” he tells you. “I’ll be right back.”

As you’re busying yourself looking through Minho’s extensive collection of books, a meow pulls your attention toward the door. It’s Dori, the gray cat you’ve decided is your favorite since it’s the only one you can easily recognize. He stares for a beat before approaching you, and you kneel carefully to stroke his soft fur. You soon find yourself sitting down by the bed with Dori on your lap, purring away as your mind travels to a future in which you and Minho adopt cats of your own, all while living together and making plans for the rest of your lives. It terrifies you slightly to allow yourself to have these thoughts because if things were to go wrong with Minho, this would only be another ‘what if’ that would haunt you.

Another post-it note to your already cluttered-up mind.

But his words from earlier come back to you just as you begin to panic. You have to let go of the past and stop assuming only the worst outcomes are attainable. And so you simply smile at the imagination, letting your mind run wild while Dori falls asleep on your lap, his gray fur all over your red dress.

You and Dori both jump as Minho all but slams the door when he returns, a towel in his hand drying his damp hair. He cringes at the sound, cursing under his breath. Dori leaves your lap, and you stand up with a pout. He definitely is your favorite cat among the three.

“Sorry,” Minho whispers, as if that will compensate for the loud noise. You take in his appearance; a green Christmas sweater and bright red sweatpants. You bite back a smile, because that’s so him.

“Your outfit is doing a great job of seducing me,” you jest, and he shrugs with a cocky grin.

“I know no woman can resist a Christmas sweater.”

He pulls you into him with a hand around your waist, his lips crashing into yours in a deep kiss. You notice he’s more frantic, less careful than he usually is, his fingers digging into the fabric of your dress as his hands slide up your back. He pulls away, breathless and flushed, and just looks at you for a moment. You can see the shift in his eyes, yearning swimming all over his brown orbs.

Clumsily, he shuts off the lights behind him then switches on the fairy lights adorning his bookshelf, his left hand still firmly clutching your body. Until it suddenly loosens, and you cock your head to the side.

“Okay, you gotta leave,” he says, and you follow his gaze, landing on Dori, who stares up at him almost defiantly. Minho lets out a sigh, opening his door before walking toward the cat and motioning toward the exit as if he will understand him. “Come on, I’ll give you treats later, hm? But you need to leave now, Dori.”

You fail to hold back a chuckle. “Why does the poor baby have to leave? He looks so comfortable snuggled up on the floor.”

“I can’t have sex while Dori watches,” he deadpans as if it were an obvious answer. “It’ll be weird.”

“Minho, it’s a cat. He doesn’t know what’s going on.”

“It’s still weird! And I…” He trails off, running a hand through his hair. He’s still facing the door when he blurts out, “I told you, I’m already really fucking nervous ‘cause it’s been a while since I’ve had sex. I might not be the best.”

You shake your head with a smile, crossing your arms over your chest. “Minho, that’s not possible.”

“Yes, it is!” He finally turns to face you. “Remember back in Japan? I came too fast, it was embarrassing. That’s why I never let you touch me.”

You jokingly pout at him. “Thought you just liked eating me out.”

“I fucking love eating you out, but I’m not exactly refusing that you do the same because I want to,” he explains, “I’m just scared I’ll be bad at it.”

You furrow your brows. “Bad at… getting a blowjob?”

Minho’s ears are dusted a light pink, and he throws his hands up. “Well, yes! Back in Japan I didn’t even know what to do with my hands. I don’t know what you like, and I haven’t been with anyone else to know what most people like so…” He lets out an exasperated sigh. “Fuck, I was so nervous that night, you have no idea.”

“You were nervous?” You let out a huff, recalling Minho’s clear shift in demeanor that night. “Looking into my eyes the entire time and pinning me down to the bed, that’s you being nervous?”

His entire face now flushes red, and he returns his gaze toward the door, where Dori paddles out of the room graciously. He promptly shuts the door, locking it this time.

“I was nervous,” He tells you, taking a step toward you. “I kept looking at you ‘cause I couldn’t believe that was actually happening. Felt like you were gonna disappear if I looked away,” His hands cup your face gently, and your lips unknowingly curl into a smile. “And when you looked at me in the morning, all I could think about was how awful I was the night before.”

You have to fight the strong urge to laugh because god, that’s why he was acting shy and avoiding your gaze. You berate yourself for even thinking otherwise, for ever assuming Minho could be like your ex-boyfriends. His words ring even more true than before.

You let out a groan, realizing you two have been putting off having sex for such mindless reasons. When he shoots you a questioning gaze, you simply say, “Minho, we’re both fucking idiots, d���you know that?”

And before he can say anything else or even entertain the idea of overthinking any more, you pull him into a kiss. With a surprised hum, Minho gently pushes you back, and your knees meet the softness of the mattress causing you to fall back into his bed. He climbs on top of you, pulling away from the kiss.

“You still gotta tell me what you like,” he repeats, his lips all but pouting at you. You smile up at him.

“No,” you say simply, pushing his hair back with your fingers as it fell into his eyes. “It’s better if we figure that out together, isn’t it?”

Minho chuckles, promptly pressing his lips to yours, your hand tugging at his hair gently as his tongue glides across your lips, causing a soft whine to slip from your throat before you can stop it.

“I like that,” he says between kisses, “When you make these pretty noises.”

You feel your cheeks heat up at his words and take that as your chance to take the first small step in healing, adding a post-it to your mind, reminding you not to suppress any noise that Minho coaxes out of you tonight.

The atmosphere in his room feels perfect — like heaven, as he would say. The soft yellow glow emanating from his bookshelf made everything seem dreamy; his honey skin looked stunning, and his eyes gleamed like the stars in the sky every time they met yours.

It was undoubtedly so much more intimate and passionate than any other time you had sex before, and you were both still fully clothed.

It was just like what Minho had told you many months ago.

His hands travel through your body until they rest on your back, finding the buttons of your dress, slowly opening each one as his lips trail down your neck, softly sucking on the skin. As he gingerly slides your dress down your torso, you realize that this will be the first time you two see each other naked. Yet, you don’t feel nervous. You want nothing more than to be close to him, with no barriers between you, to finally be tangled with him like the roots on the ground.

Minho unclasps your bra, his gaze unmoving from your chest as he slips the garment off of your skin and drops it on the floor. It’s almost as if you can feel his gaze burning you, your chest tightening and your breath hitching in your throat. He licks his lips, leaning down to wrap them around your nipple, his hand promptly finding your other breast and softly massaging it. You let out a choked gasp, tugging at his hair.

You feel his lips stretch into a smile before he softly bites the bud.

“So you like this,” He mumbles, pressing a wet kiss to your nipple. “Duly noted.”

You giggle at his words, your hands tangling in his hair once more. His kisses travel up again, from your chest to your neck, until he’s back to kissing your lips. Both of his hands now massage your breasts, alternating between rolling your nipples between his rough fingers and pinching them lightly, causing a rush to spread across your entire body. You feel your arousal trickle down your slit as you grow more desperate.

“Minho,” you call out between kisses, and he hums against your lips. “Do something,” you all but beg him, yearning for some release as you feel the small, unrelenting pulse between your thighs grow stronger with each stroke of his finger across your chest. Your hands now grasp at his sweater, tugging it over his head, the fabric also discarded somewhere on the floor of his room.

Your hands travel over the expanse of his chest, fingertips taking in every inch of his soft skin. Breaking away from his lips, you push him back softly so you can revel in the sight of him; his delicate collar bones, his strong arms, and soft stomach. He’s beautiful, breathtakingly so, and you don’t know what you did to be deserving of him.

“Enjoying the view?” He jokes, and you breathe out a laugh, your gaze flying up toward his face — his lips swollen, and his cheeks flushed a pretty red.

“Minho, you’re so beautiful,” you whisper absentmindedly, and he smiles at you, softly pressing his lips to yours.

“You should see how you look,” he whispers.

His left hand soon slips underneath your dress skirt, fingertips grazing your skin over your tights. You feel goosebumps trickle along your thighs following his every touch, so eager to feel his hands on your skin you’re sure you’ll rip your tights in half yourself if Minho doesn’t get rid of them soon.

He seems to grow as impatient as you, lifting your hips with a strong grip to slide down your dress, tights, and panties off of you all in one go. In no time, you are now laid bare before him, and Minho is swift to trail kisses down your stomach, sloppy and messy, painting your skin with his saliva as his mouth waters at the mere prospect of tasting you.

With a heavy sigh, he stares at your glistening wetness before promptly wrapping his lips around your clit without a warning and sucking, ardently, vulgar sounds filling his small room much like they do every time he eats you out. Always messy, always eager, humming against your pussy and sighing as his eyes glaze over with pure want.

You squirm like lighting has shocked through your entire body. No matter how often you experience the satisfaction of Minho’s lips on you, it always leaves you trembling like it’s the first time. His right hand slides up the expanse of your stomach until it reaches your breast again, his thumb lazily circling your nipple. You purse your lips as his fingers tentatively trail across your folds, spreading your wetness up to your clit before lapping at it slowly, the small bud swollen and aching.

You’re quick to remember to open your mouth, letting out the heavy sigh that had stuck to your throat as his finger enters you, Minho still licking and sucking your sensitive clit, nipping harshly and making your sigh fade into a whine. Hand tangling in his hair and tugging, you elicit a low groan from his throat, which you feel reverberate through your slick folds.

Your thighs shake as he adds a second finger, and soon a third, thrusting them inside of you and stroking your walls more vigorously than he usually does, as if he somehow also feels your pleasure and needs to lead you to your high as quickly as possible.

Minho’s hand leaves your chest, and you bite back a pout, his fingers now gripping your hips before pushing them up so he can reach deeper. It isn’t long before his fingers drag across the spot inside of you that has your muscles tensing up, a strangled moan falling from your lips at the sensations coupled with the unrelenting feeling of his tongue on your clit. You come undone around his fingers and lips with a harsh tug of his black hair, rutting your hips against his face desperately, his fingers digging into the flesh of your hips as you do.

He laps up your juices as you slowly come down from your high, tongue flicking inside of you and sucking hard before he presses a long kiss to your cunt. Your entire body jerks in response to the overstimulation.

His kisses travel toward your inner thigh, your lower stomach and breasts until he reaches your neck, where his teeth nip at the soft skin, sucking harshly before his tongue soothingly licks at the spot. As Minho positions himself between your thighs again, you instinctively wrap your legs around his waist, pulling him closer. Your mind goes hazy for a beat as you feel the thick outline of his cock press against your bare core.

“Minho,” you call out again, your voice significantly more whiny this time around, shaky and breathless, “Wanna taste you.”

He groans against your skin, pressing small kisses up your neck until he ultimately stops against your open lips. He breathes out a heavy sigh.

“Really want that, too,” he rasps out, voice hoarse as his dark eyes travel across your face. “But I really wanna fuck you. Shit, I need to fuck you so badly you have no idea,” He groans. You feel his length jump at his words as he presses your foreheads together and locks his gaze with you. “That’ll be hard to do if your pretty lips go anywhere near my cock.”

You breathe out a chuckle, pressing a small kiss to his lips. “Then get to it,” you simply say.

Minho’s lips curl into a grin. “Will you remember to be quiet for me this time? My baby sounded so pretty coming around my fingers.”

Your cheeks flush, just how loud you were before only now dawning on you. Fuck. Your words get stuck to your throat, your mouth opening but making no sound, so you settle for a nod.

He chuckles. “Good,” he replies with a kiss to your agape lips.

Minho sits up, detangling himself from your body briefly. He reaches for the box on his bedside table, scrambling with the cardboard before clumsily tearing it open and retrieving a condom. It’s only then you notice how his hands are trembling, from nervousness or pure lust. Either way, you find yourself smiling at the sight.

You reach out to run a hand along his arm soothingly, watching with hungry eyes as he tugs at his drawstrings before freeing his cock from the confines of his sweatpants. Minho hisses as he rolls the rubber over his length, shaky hands stroking himself one, two, three times, all while you eye him, watching greedily as if you were his own personal captive audience.

He lowers himself once again, hand now sliding across the length of your thigh before gripping the flesh, nails digging into your skin as he eyes you with an almost pleading gaze.

“Can I—”

“Please do,” you answer, almost frantically, before he even has the time to assume you might say no. You inch your thighs apart even more so Minho can slot himself perfectly between them.

Your mouth waters as you catch sight of him gripping his cock once more, tapping it against your swollen clit and eliciting a whine from your lips as your hands scramble to find purchase in his strong arms. Minho’s eyes then find yours much like they did back in Japan, and you know you are done for. His dark gaze once again felt all-consuming — desire and adoration swimming along his brown eyes, looking at you as if he were in a daze. Your grip on his arms tightens as he lazily slides his cock up and down your soaked slit, coating himself in your arousal. Minho’s lips fall open as he continues his movements, the blunt head of his cock gliding along your folds almost painfully slow.

He leans in to close the small gap between your lips, before whispering something you can’t quite understand against them.

“I fucking love you,” he repeats himself more clearly, and finally pushes forward, his girth pushing into you as you gasp, feeling as if all the air has been stolen from you.

You aren’t sure if your reaction is due to his words, or the way his cock is working you open so good, or maybe it was a delicious blend of the two. All you know at the moment is Minho, Minho, Minho, your mind foggy as his name rings inside your head like a mantra.

“Don’t gotta say anything back,” he tells you in a breathy voice, “Just want you to know I love— Fuck,” he groans as he is now fully sheathed inside of you, and you clench at both the feeling and the words spilling from his lips. Of course he would choose now to tell you he loved you. “Love you so much, so much I’d do anything for you. Would wage a war with the world if you asked me to…” He babbles, words slipping past his lips like they were the easiest thing for him to say. Like he meant it so deeply, he didn’t have to put any thought into it. His words only die as he presses an open-mouthed kiss to your lips.

Minho pulls his hips back in one swift motion, hands lifting your thighs around his body as he thrusts into you, evoking a rather loud noise from the back of your throat which is smothered by his kiss.

“You take me so well,” he growls against your lips, “We fit perfectly.” He breaks the kiss to look down at where your two bodies are connected. It felt as if you were one, melting into each other little by little the more Minho thrust his cock inside of you. You simply nod, mind even more dizzy with the way he’s already pulling out again before slamming back into you, his pace quickening as he presses you into the mattress.

Your nails dig into his skin, crescent moon shapes blooming over the expanse of his honey skin. His eyes still bore into you, hips now thrusting at an unrelenting pace, his small room filled with a cacophony of wet sounds, whines tumbling from your parted lips and curses that almost silently fell from his.

“Gonna come soon,” Minho chokes out, his eyebrows furrowing, “I’m sorry, I—”

You silence him with a press of your lips, hands now tangling in his messy hair.

“You’re always so good to me,” you tell him, feeling his cock pulse inside of your walls. “Wanna be good to you too, make you feel good.”

And he simply leans down before kissing you reverently. The sound of his skin slapping against yours mixed with the creaking of his bed likely much too loud, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care. At least not at the moment. Not with the way his hand snakes along your hips, rough fingers now rolling delicious circles around your clit while his other palm presses down onto your abdomen, and his cock continuously hits a spot inside of you that has you all but crumbling apart underneath him.

Your mouth falls open, breaking the kiss, his cock twitching inside of you as his body stills on top of you. With furrowed brows and agape lips, Minho comes mere seconds before you reach your high as well, toes curling against his back as you melt onto his cock.

You stay that way for a while — a few seconds, maybe minutes — simply looking at each other as your labored breaths intertwine.

You finally reach up, brushing his dampened hair away from his beautiful eyes that now look at you as if you were the sole reason why the stars sparkle. Minho’s fingers soon find yours, tangling together as he brings your hands to his lips and presses a chaste kiss to your knuckles.

You smile.

You love him.

It’s not a realization but rather a confirmation of something you’ve already known all too well and for far too long. You still can’t put it into words, but somehow, you are certain that he knows just as well.

Minho accidentally awoke you in the morning with his habit of slamming his door shut, apologizing as you grumbled at him and insisted you would only accept his apology if he let you give him a blowjob. He laughed, simply pulling you closer to him on the bed as he sat up and you finally gave the most beautiful man you had ever met the head he deserved.

Minho’s parents and grandmother had left to eat at a fancy restaurant, and after lying through his teeth and telling his very distraught mother that you were feeling too sick to leave the bed, you two stayed behind. They didn’t have to know the real reason you couldn’t leave the bed — Minho and his apparent insatiable hunger for you. It was as if something had been awoken inside him now that he had a taste of you, and he had to make up for all the lost time.

You two only leave his room late in the afternoon, the sun setting on the pale winter sky outside his bedroom window. His family would arrive soon, and you needed to get ready for their tradition of opening Christmas presents while watching bad holiday movies.

When Minho followed you when you headed toward the bathroom, you thought little of it. It was only when he began undressing alongside you that panic truly set in.

“We literally had sex, why do you sound so horrified?” Was all he offered you when you asked what he was doing before entering the steamy shower with you.

It was your first time showering with someone, and the fact that it made you so nervous felt almost pathetic. Minho was right; you had sex, and you saw each other naked and sweaty and vulnerable. This shouldn’t be any different.

Except it was.

You found yourself too awkward to wash yourself, doing a terrible job at pretending to scrub at your arms as you watched Minho shower like a normal person. He let out a chuckle after rinsing his hair, shaking his head.

“Are you seriously shy? Seriously?” He asked, turning your body around so your back faced him. “The girl who begged to suck my cock just this morning is too shy to shower in front of me?”

You opened your lips to refute him, but your words died in your mouth as you felt Minho’s hand spread shampoo all over your hair. His fingers gently massaged your scalp before placing his hand over your eyes to shield them from the foam as he rinsed your hair. He repeated the process with conditioner, then moved on to wash your body with his almost sickly sweet watermelon body wash. He did it all while humming, making you so relaxed and comfortable that all your silly insecurities dissipated in the air along with the steam from the hot water.

Suffice to say, showering without Minho would now be a sad affair.

You are now sitting on the floor before the television, his family exchanging gifts. Dori purred on your lap, and Soonie bit Minho’s socks, trying his best to remove the fabric from his feet. It’s finally time for you two to exchange gifts, and you’re a bit glad his family seemed to be so immersed in the movie because you know you would combust if you had to explain your gift to them.

“Here,” you hand him an orange box with a black bow. “It’s stupid. Now that I think about it, it’s probably such a fucking dumb gift. It seemed like a good idea at the time, and Eunha even made one for her sister. I almost stole hers ‘cause it turned out much better than mine—”

“My god,” Minho interrupts you with a hearty laugh, taking the box in his hands and inspecting it. “It’s been a while since you word vomited so much. What the hell did you get me that made you so nervous?”

He pulls on the bow, unraveling it before taking the black fabric in his hands and tying it around your head. He laughs once more, and you roll your eyes.

“Minho, just get to it before I snatch this box from you.”

With one last chuckle, he finally opens the box. He stills as he takes in the notebook, sitting on top of far too much wrapping tissue paper. The cat print cardstock paper was a pain to find, but it’s worth it now as you watch Minho’s lips curl into a smile as his fingers gingerly travel through the cover. It was crooked, a bit too small, and still reeked of bookbinding glue, but it reminds you of the day you met Minho, and that was all you thought about when you decided on this gift.

“You fucking bound me a notebook,” he says, still bewildered.

“Took me a while, but I did say I was gonna do it. I’m a woman of my word.”

Minho looks up at you, his smile reaching his eyes and turning them into the pretty crescent moons you love so much. “I love it,” he beams, hands now squeezing your cheeks as he pulls you into a small kiss. “This and that coffee stained notebook are going on my bookshelf back in my dorm, displayed in all their glory.”

Minho pulls away and reaches toward two small boxes on the coffee table. He clears his throat, handing you one box as he settles the other on his lap.

“I thought of you when I saw this on my Instagram feed,” he simply says, fingers toying with the misshaped bow on top of the box — one very similar to the one on your birthday gift many months ago. “Thought about what we talked about in Japan, y’know, about soulmates.”

You raise a brow at him, quickly undoing the bow on your box as curiosity washes over you. You pick up a bracelet made only of red thread, eyeing it curiously.

Minho retrieves the same bracelet from his own box, putting it on before asking, “Have you heard of the red string of fate?”

“That myth that a thread connects two people meant to be together?” You question.

He nods. “Exactly. I feel like that was us,” He explains, taking the red bracelet from your hands and slipping it around your wrist before gently tightening the thread. “Feel like all our little coincidences were little threads tying us together until we met.”

You feel the tears well up in your eyes, but you don’t bother trying to hide or stop them this time. Grabbing Minho’s hand that stilled around your wrist, you lace your fingers together, admiring your matching bracelets. It could only be fate. Every small detail that aligned and every road you two crossed to reach the place where you are now could only have come to be because fate wanted it to be that way.

Out of every city you could have lived in, every different university you could have chosen to attend, down to every other seat that could have been empty on the day you met Minho — everything fell into place like a puzzle piece, exactly as if a long, invisible string tied you to him and finally decided it was time to pull you together.

Minho’s gentle touch brushes against your cheek as he silently wipes your tears — no words are needed between you two at that moment as he smiles softly at you while you feel your eyes burn from the cry you had held back for so long. And, as if you’re his mirror, you feel yourself smile as his lips upturn into a grin when his gaze shifts to the open window.

“It’s snowing,” he beams. “It’s the first snow of the year, and our first snow together.”

 

You stand in front of Minho’s house, the light snow falling softly and covering your heads in white as he kisses you, only stopping to grumble against your lips.

“Your phone’s going crazy in my pocket,” He pouts, and you furrow your brows. You had already sent your family holiday messages, and your friends were all busy with their own Christmas celebrations, so you were clueless about who it could be.

“Can you check it for me?”

Minho nods, untangling himself from your embrace just enough to reach into his pocket and grab your phone to unlock it.

“There’s like fifty new messages from a group chat. Best Fucking Five?” He chuckles lightly at the name, his chilly breath tickling your cheek.

You, on the other hand, immediately frowned as you heard the name. It’s a long-forgotten group chat with your old friend group from high school. You had all stopped talking a little before graduation, with you especially distancing yourself from them upon realizing their toxic words and reactions to your relationships only served to make you feel worse about yourself. No one bothered to leave or delete the group since it quietly died and had stayed that way for over three years now.

Minho hands you the phone, and you click another notification that pops up as soon as you unlock the device.

The conversation began with your former friend sending a screenshot of one of your ex-boyfriend’s newest Instagram post. You skim through the caption and blanch at the words accompanied by a sonogram picture. His girlfriend is pregnant, and he’s over the moon about it.

And you, for some reason, find yourself laughing so much you have to clutch onto Minho’s shoulder as your stomach starts to hurt.

He shoots you an understandably puzzled look, but you can’t stop the giggles that spill from your lips, so you settle on showing him the screenshot. 

“I got the best Christmas gift tonight,” Minho reads from the screen. “I'm going to be a dad, and the most wonderful woman I’ve ever known is the mother,” he trails off with a questioning lilt, brows furrowing as that had only confused him more.

“It’s one of my exes,” you manage to tell him after catching your breath.

Minho hums, taking your hands and shoving them in his overcoat pocket along with your phone.

“And why did that make you lose your mind laughing?” He asks with a small smile.

“I guess it was the shock, really. It also made me realize just how little I care about him now. All of them, actually. Every time I was broken up with or had my heart broken in some way, it honestly felt like the end of the world,” you explain, “Like my heart would never recover and like I would hate them for the rest of my life. For years I had such a strong ax to grind with them, and that hatred and grudge only caused me harm. It made me hate love, and it made me blame myself.”

Minho nods, pressing his forehead to yours. Around you two, the snow got thicker, and only the distant sounds of children laughing from neighboring houses could be heard throughout the quiet street.

“But it’s different now?”

You smile up at him. “It’s different now, and I only just realized that. These people are no longer people I hate. They’re simply their words and their actions toward me, but they, as people, mean nothing to me.”

Minho smiles and wraps his arms around you in a tight embrace. This realization makes you feel lighter, like a small part of the weight of healing has been removed from the equation. It’s only you and yourself now; none of them has any power over your emotions anymore.

“Maybe we should send the baby a present,” you joke, and Minho buries his head in the crook of your neck with a chuckle, and you jump as his cold nose brushes against your skin.

“Maybe we should.”

At that moment, in the arms of this amazing man who has helped you more than he will ever know, you realize that love truly isn’t bad. People can be bad, circumstances can be catastrophic, and wrong timing can destroy nearly everything. But love is, at the core of it all, good.

“Minho,” you call out, feeling him hum against your skin before lifting his head to look at you. “I love you,” you say simply.

His smile rivals every pretty thing around you. The first snow, the gleaming Christmas decorations, and even the moon herself pale in comparison to the smile that Minho gives you.

“I love you, too,” he replies, a tangible sense of bliss in his voice, as if he has yearned for a lifetime to finally be able to say those words to you.

You wrap your arms tighter around Minho, and your fingers brush against the red thread that adorns your wrist. It truly feels as if fate had led you to Minho, leaving little clues along the way to make sure you both knew when you finally met. His journey to you had been relatively easy, while yours had been heart-wrenching, but in the end, it had brought you heaven.

If soulmates really are a thing, there is not an ounce of doubt in your being that Minho is yours. More than anything, he taught you that love is present in everything around you. Love is being kind to others like Minho is kind to his family and strangers in convenience stores at midnight. Love is staying up with your best friend while she cries on the couch, not expecting anything in return. Love is the laughter of little kids on Christmas night echoing throughout a neighborhood. Love is also going out on your own, doing something simply because it will make you happy, and being kind to yourself. All this time, you held onto the belief that love is destructive and only leads to sadness, oblivious to the fact that it has surrounded you every step of the way.

Love is everywhere and in everything.

In the end, Minho had always been right.

Love is the most amazing thing in life.

♡ taglist: @notevenheretbh1, @malunar28replies, @jazziwritesthings, @finchyyy, @bloom-ings, @linocz, @minhochaos, @lastgreatamericandynasty1, @missminhoe, @jungkookies1002, @meanergreener

[abyssruler]

r/HowTo: ask my crush out

pairing: xiao x gn!reader

summary: xiao has been crushing on you for the longest time, so he does what any normal person would do and asks strangers online for for tips on how to ask his crush out. you, being the troll that you are and not knowing his identity, deliberately give the guy on your subreddit bad advice.

word count: 2.3k

note: a lil something because i think modern au xiao is the kind of person who goes to reddit and asks for input on every little thing. can be seen as high school or college au. kinda ooc xiao but idc. comedy!

r/HowTo

posted by Alatus01

How do I ask my crush out like a normal person?

I’ve been friends with them for some time now and I’ve only noticed how much I really like them. They’re nice and funny, even if they can be a little mean, but even that meanness is something I like about them. Just the other day I saw them laugh in the middle of drinking, snorting out water from their nose, and I still found them attractive. I think I’m in too deep.

I can’t really keep this bottled up anymore and I want to tell them how I feel but I’m scared they won’t reciprocate and it might ruin out friendship. Can anyone help?

Snickering to yourself as you saw one of the recent posts in your subreddit, you quickly typed out a response. No way you were gonna allow anyone else to get laid before you, even if it was a complete stranger from the internet.

yn-yournuts:

you just have to make sure they like you back. have you tried the scent method?

You tap your fingers as you waited for the guy, Alatus01, to reply.

Not even a few minutes later, a response shows up to your comment.

Alatus01:

What’s the scent method? I googled it and nothing showed up.

Because it was a thing you completely made up.

yn-yournuts:

it’s the thing where guys lean in super close to the person they like and inhale their scent. you then gotta tell it straight to the person’s face what they smell like and that they smell nice

Which would then result in them either being slapped or labeled a creep. You know you would physically throw hands with anyone who tried to get in your personal space, then said how much you smelled nice.

Alatus01:

Okay, thanks. I’ll try that sometime.

You log out, satisfied with your work.

✧

As you’re walking down the hallway with Xiao, he suddenly stops. Turning to him curiously, you ask why he stopped.

He’s looking at you with trepidation, mouth pressed in a thin line like he’s about to vomit. Worried, you begin to take a step forward, but he beats you to it by leaning his face close to you, so close that you can feel his breath on the skin of your neck.

“X-Xiao?!”

Your mouth feels dry all of a sudden. You hear him intake a deep breath right beside your pulse, and you hope he doesn’t hear how hard your heart is beating.

When he pulls away, his cheeks are red and he’s unable to meet your wide eyes. “You… you smell nice.”

At your slack-jawed response, he turns an even deeper shade of red and turns around and practically runs away.

Kokomi, who watched the entire thing nearby, walks up to you and places her hand on your shoulder. “Hey, are you okay? That thing Xiao did just now was—”

“Hot,” you blurt out, eyes dazed. Xiao said you smelled nice—Xiao! He said you smelled nice!

You think if you died today, you’d have absolutely no regrets.

She looks at you like you’ve got a few screws loose. “I was going to say weird but okay.”

You grab her shoulders and shake her hard, an almost manic look in your eyes. “He said I smelled nice! That means he must like me back, right?!”

“Yeah, maybe…” Kokomi agrees, not having the heart to burst your bubble and say how much your crush has blinded you. If it were anyone else, like Childe, you would have knocked his teeth out for even breathing the same air as you did.

✧

Alatus01:

Update: I don’t think the scent method is very effective.

yn-yournuts:

it’s probably bc you didn’t do it right. how about you try asking them to see a movie? there’s one showing now called ‘pallad’s adventures’ and i heard it’s effective for couples

It was not, in fact, effective for couples. The movie was rated 1/10 and many on social media were calling it a waste of a budget. You saw one of your classmates, Albedo, posting a ten page essay on why Pallad’s Adventures deserves its horrible reviews and why it should be removed from theaters as soon as possible. A little too harsh on a few wordings, but for the most part, he was right. The director would probably cry himself to sleep if he read the essay.

Alatus01:

But I heard it was a bad movie?

yn-yournuts:

that’s cuz those couples only want to gatekeep it from us single people. i heard from a friend of a friend that it wasn’t really that bad

Another lie. Hu Tao watched it with Yanfei and said it was worse than bad.

Alatus01:

Alright. I’ll give it a try.

Oh, this poor innocent guy. At least after the movie, he’ll have learned his lesson on not taking advices from trolls on the internet. You tell yourself this is you educating another person on internet awareness, but really, you’re just bored and in need of good entertainment.

✧

“I bought tickets for that show called Pallad’s Adventures. If you’re free tomorrow, do you want to go watch it with me?” Xiao asks you after class.

You’re so shocked by his words that you accidentally drop all your books.

You don’t even care that he invited you to watch that horrid movie, Xiao was asking you to watch a movie with him! Just the two of you! You’d have to be dead before you even think of saying no to him.

He hurriedly bends down to pick up your books and hand them to you, a downcast look to his eyes. “It’s alright if you don’t want to—”

“No!” You yell, startling him. You press your books close to your chest. “I mean, I’d love to watch the movie with you! I was just a little surprised.”

You can see him visibly relaxing his shoulders after your explanation. He then smiles, small and meant only for your eyes. It sends an arrow straight to your heart such that you momentarily forget that you’re about to spend two hours of your day tomorrow watching the most awful movie to date.

“I look forward to it,” he tells you.

But at least you’re spending those two hours with Xiao.

✧

It takes a week before the Alatus01 guy gives you an update regarding his love life, but you were so busy being too high on your unofficial date with Xiao to notice the lateness.

Alatus01:

Update: It went really well. The movie wasn’t that great but my crush invited me to get dinner after, so I think the movie worked.

It was crazy how such a terrible movie could bring people together. First, you and Xiao, and now this guy and his crush. Maybe the movie has some sort of magic to it.

But you’re still kind of annoyed that someone was having a better love life than you. You and Xiao were still only friends while this guy seems like his crush asked him out on a date themself. And you’d deliberately gave him bad tips! It was like the universe was determined to get this guy with his crush or something.

It was time to pull out the big guns.

yn-yournuts:

have you tried sneaking in to their window?

Alatus01:

What?

yn-yournuts:

i heard it was romantic if guys went to their significant other’s house in the middle of the night and woke them up by knocking on their window

Alatus01:

That sounds questionable?

So he wasn’t completely naive and oblivious. Good for him but bad for you.

yn-yournuts:

you lack imagination! haven’t you ever watched the amazing spiderman? peter parker and gwen stacy’s entire thing was windows!

Alatus01:

I don’t think that’s right. And wouldn’t they feel uncomfortable if I show up without warning?

yn-yournuts:

they might, but if they do like u, they’d probably be more pleasantly shocked than anything

A total lie. Even if you liked a person, them showing up at your house in the dead of the night and waking you up from your much beloved sleep was enough to have them on your hit-list.

Alatus01:

Isn’t there a better way to tell if they like me back?

yn-yournuts:

it’s up to you if you wanna take the risk or not. personally, i’d do it, actions speak louder than words. you’ll really be able to tell how much they like u depending on their reaction it

Oh wow, now you’re starting to sound like you’re giving actual good advice. But it’s not like his crush likes him that much that they’ll forgive his little trip to their house so easily, right?

Alatus01:

You’re right. I’ll try it.

yn-yournuts:

that’s the spirit! give me an update once ur done!

✧

After a few days of staying up late to finish long overdue homework and projects, you collapse on your bed and ready yourself for a full ten hour sleep. You’re almost in the land of dreams when a sudden sound rouses you from sleep.

Blearily raising your head from your pillow, you squint through the darkness in your room, trying to pinpoint where that sound came from. Another tapping sound resounds from somewhere. You look over to your left where your window is, just in time to see something hit the glass and make a small plink! sound.

Annoyed at the interruption, coupled with a few days’ worth of sleep deprivation, you rise from your bed and stomp to the window, unlocking the latch and slamming it open. The cool breeze caresses your cheeks as you lean your head out the window, mouth open and ready to yell at whoever’s bothering people in the middle of the night—

Only for all your words die out when you see Xiao standing right below your window, a black hoodie thrown over his shirt and wearing pajama bottoms. He looks sheepish as he lowers the small rock he’d been preparing to throw.

“Hi,” you squeak out.

“I…” He trails off, looking around as if trying to find words to say. “Sorry for waking you up.”

You’re quick to shake your head. “Wake up? Me? Psh, I was just on my phone just now. Haha! Who said I was asleep?”

Relief overtakes his handsome features. You take a mental picture of the sight and store it in your memories.

Leaning your arms on the windowsill, you ask, “What brings you here anyway?”

“I wanted to see you...” Your mouth parts. Xiao is staring somewhere to the left, unable to meet your eyes.

You think your heart is about to combust. The moment is then shattered when he shivers after a particularly cold gust of wind blows. “Come on up here! It must be freezing outside.”

He shakes his head. “I just needed some answers.”

You tilt your head in question. “And did you get those answers yet?”

A look of realization slowly dawns on his face as he gazes up at you, no trace of irritation in your eyes. “Yes, I think… I think I do have the answer.”

With a slightly dazed look, he waves goodbye to you and makes his way to the bike parked in front of your house. You watch him rev the engine up and speed away down the street, something niggling at the back of your head at this strange encounter.

You promptly forget about it the moment your head meets the pillow.

✧

Alatus01:

Update: I think they like me back.

And just like that, you’ve once again failed your mission of sabotaging random people’s potential love lives. This case is probably worse because you actively worked to give them blatantly bad advice that somehow worked out in the end.

This guy’s crush must either be a nutcase, completely in love with him, an idiot, or all of the above.

Fine. You admit defeat. One more person in this world was getting laid before you did. Feeling sour, you type out a response.

yn-yournuts:

congrats ig. now you just need to confess

✧

Xiao pulls you aside after class into an empty classroom, his palms sweaty when they make contact with your arm.

There’s a determined look on his face that turns into uncertainty once you’re in front of him, watching him straighten his back and take in deep breaths like he’s preparing to answer a math test.

And then he utters the words that would have given you a cardiac arrest in another universe.

“…I like you. I’ve liked you for a long time.”

Archons, if this is a dream, please don’t ever wake me up.

You continue to stare at him, the silence hanging between you like an executioner’s blade, waiting to see which side it will swing.

You see him start to shrink into himself, losing confidence the longer the silence stretches on, and without much thought, you throw yourself at him, wrapping your arms around his torso and burying your face into his shoulder. You inhaled. He smells like almonds and qingxin flowers. It was addicting.

Slowly, almost hesitantly, he returns your embrace.

Muffled against his shoulder, you say, “I really like you too, so much that all my friends say I’ve lost my sanity. I’ve been wanting to tell you but I didn’t think you liked me that way.”

His shoulders shake with mirth and relief. Then, Xiao admits in a low tone, “…Me too, but someone online really helped me. Their advice was strange, but they always worked out. Like now, they were the one that told me to confess.”

You spend a few seconds sending a mental thank you to that person. They deserve all the riches and blessings in the world.

You didn’t think much on it beyond your initial gratefulness, much too preoccupied with savoring the warmth that radiated from him while he embraced you. So you shelved that little detail for the moment to be checked on later.

“This means we’re dating now! No take backs, Xiao!” You declare loudly.

He nods with a little hum, hugging you even tighter than before.

✧

Alatus01:

update: We’re dating now

And for the first time since you commented on his post, you reply genuinely.

yn-yournuts:

congrats! so happy for you!!

✧

You bolt upright on your bed hours later, realization written all over your face.

Oh Archons.

Is Xiao Alatus01?!

[kindlingkeen]

do you have any good fic recs? i've just finished reading all of your fics (AMAZING btw i LOVE competent jason and you write him sooo well) and obviously you have good taste so i thought i might as well ask (i will say that i don't really do ship fics tho)

thank you! looking forward to what you have in store for jason and the batfam next!

First, thank you for the ask! And I’m so glad you’ve been enjoying my fics!! 😊 I’m on vacation this week and finally writing again (had a bit of a rough writer’s block patch). So hopefully I’ll be posting more content in the next couple of weeks.

Fic recs - boy do I ever. I will say, I have super varied tastes in fics, I’ll read just about anything Gen that’s Jason-centric, plus a few Jason ships (although I’m pretty picky about what actually makes it into my bookmarks). All of the fics I’m rec’ing below are Gen, although some might have flavors of a relationship (likely JayRoy since that’s my preferred pairing). I tried to pick a selection of different styles and tropes, so hopefully you find something you like. Almost all these authors have multiple fics I’ve loved, so look at their other works on ao3 for more great reading (you may need to be logged into ao3 to see some of them). Enjoy!

Fic recs

Glow in the Dark Stars by essspressso (stylesmakethefight) 

This is a time travel fic that made me bawl ugly tears, like seriously bawl. Read if in need of a good cry.

The Cold Like Coming Home by cabezas_de_vaca 

An interesting one-shot of Jason and Bruce finding their way back to each other.

More Chances Than Deserved 'Verse by Skalidra  @skalidra

A series that starts out post batarang, Jason does not rejoin the family.

Gotham CPS by ebjameston 

Not sure how to even describe this one, it’s pure hilarity told by an outsider POV.

Nests and Cages by LanternWisp, Lysical @lanternwisp

A series detailing Jason’s journey back to the family. The last installment of the series has probably the best reconciliation discussion between Jason and Bruce re: Bruce taking on another Robin that I’ve ever read.

Buy One Get One Free by Here_we_go

A series that starts with catatonic Jason. I love how Jason is written in this one so so much (especially the main first part), and there’s a short segment later in the series with Talia that’s lovely.

fever by r_astra  @heyy-its-skip

One-shot. Quality batdad in the context of a sick fic

nightmares and daydreams by r_astra @heyy-its-skip

One-shot. Beware, there’s some heavy duty torture in this one. Jason & Tim isn’t usually my thing, but I really like their brief interaction in this one.

all the small weights by sparkycap

One-shot. More quality batdad, this time in the context of fear toxin

a (cat)astrophe in the making by mikkal

Part of a loosely connected series, if I’m remembering correctly. I’m a firm believer that Jason Todd needs a cat.

Red Hood by envysparkler @envysparkler

An amazing Jason rejoins the family, classic fix it, set early in Lost Days continuity. Envysparkler’s works are pretty much solely responsible for getting me into the Batfam. This fic in particular motivated me to start writing TPWC.

Overcoming Our Antecedents by Batbirdies @batbirdies

De-aging fic, this isn’t my favorite trope, but of what’s out there, I like the dynamics in this one.

Things We Only Talk About After Dark by BabblingBookends

One-shot. More good batdad, but not fluffy like the other two above. I really like how Bruce is written in this one, how he struggles with the unknown.

Kidnapped! by Cerusee @cerusee

One-shot set in Jason’s Robin days. One of my favorites for father and son feels.

A MOMENT THAT'S HELD IN YOUR ARMS. by orpheusaki

More baby Robin Jay and good dad Bruce.

White Lighters / Afterglow by lurkinglurkerwholurks @lurkinglurkerwholurks

One-shot. Another one that legitimately made me cry.

Druthers by d_aia @e-alexandrescu

A really creative, not-your-typical-take on Jason rejoining the family. Sniper Jason is so frelling cool.

I linked the tumblr’s for the authors I know of. If you have any to add, leave them in the comments and I’ll update!

[ryuichirou]

Dark headcanons feat. Idia

Anonymous asked:

Got any more super dark head canons for our favorite hikikomori? I’m a glutton for punishment, I know.🫠

Anonymous asked:

being normal is overrated. fuck it gimme your most messed up idia hcs nsfw and sfw

Ask and you shall receive, dear Anons, even if it happens several months later 😭

I want to thank you once again for your patience; one of the reasons why it took me this long was that I always get excited when we receive asks about darker scenarios. I got so excited that, I think, some of the hcs are kind of like short stories lol even though I didn’t want to make them too long… well, anyways.

So, dark and messed up hcs! Obviously Idia-centric; a lot of it is Mob/Idia. Starting on a lighter note, but then it gets more messed up.

(I’m not talking about the Tweels and Idia this time (I know there are asks about them too!), they’ll get another post <3 Let’s hope that I’ll finish it soon)

Sometimes he tortures himself by having internet arguments lol He doesn’t feel good when he argues with randos, even though it’s funny sometimes, but sometimes he continues to do it fully knowing that the conversation is completely useless. A couple of times he connected to his opponent’s webcam log and found footage of them masturbating. He could’ve easily used it to end the argument quickly, but for some reason no matter how heated he gets, he doesn’t do it. He thinks about it though.

Idia has seen every single cursed thing on the internet. Things that would make some people traumatised, things that are way too much even for Idia. If cursed things on the internet were an iceberg meme, to Idia Blue Waffle and One Guy One Jar would be the most basic tier. Something that everyone knows and isn’t as shocking. Sometimes he wonders how Azul-shi or Crimson Muscle would react to some of the stuff he’s used to seeing.

Same goes with porn, to be honest. Idia could go months without masturbating or watching porn, but he isn’t sure if it’s because of his low sex drive or because of how bored he is with porn. Regular porn doesn’t do it for him at all, with kinks he either gets into them or suddenly loses interest, his favourite hentai tropes are pretty messed up. He ended up watching some banned illegal stuff a couple of times just to see if he’d feel anything. The next day he was back to his favourite hentai tropes though.

Idia got groped during his entrance ceremony. He has no idea why he was picked out of every single person there, but he thinks it’s because of his hair: everyone’s silhouette is the same in the ceremonial robe, but his hair makes him stand out. Even though his butt is small… When it happened, Idia got so shocked that he just stood there still, allowing them to touch him. He was upset, but at the same time remembered all the hentai and doujins that started this way, and it resulted in him feeling a weird mix of deep disgust and arousal. He had no idea if anyone noticed him getting molested, and if anyone saw that he had a boner, but he sure felt like every single person was looking at him and judging him. He got traumatised by that, but the situation was so bizarre to him that he came without touching himself after returning to his room as quickly as possible.

Despite being shy and antisocial, Idia is very cocky, and he was especially cocky when he was a freshman. Living with 3 other people was a huge stress for him, and as we talk about living with them 24/7, his natural response to stress was to start talking shit. He felt intimidated by everything and everyone back then, and at the same time felt super annoyed because he was a genius who was much more skilled and smart than most of his senpai, and definitely smarter than the goons that he had to share a room with. Long story short, his roommates thought he was weird and bullied him every time Ortho wasn’t around for some reason (i.e. when he was charging): stole his clothes and pillows, threw stuff at him, talked shit about him, not even trying to be quiet about it. One time they dogpiled him on his own bed and made him pee himself. The other time they wrote swear words all over his body, talking about how all this were the things that people called him when he wasn’t listening. Idia got his revenge after that (yay doxing), but he is a bit scared of these guys to this day.

Idia’s second year wasn’t much better because he still had to share a room with a guy. And if the first bunch were bullies that Ortho really didn’t like (he tried to protect Idia, but couldn’t do it all the time), his roommate during his second year was more sneaky. He had good relationship with Ortho, so Ortho didn’t mind leaving these two alone in the room. He even asked Idia to try and befriend the guy because he really thought Idia needed friends. Idia hated the guy though because not only did he treat him just as badly as the previous group, he also constantly threatened that he would complain about Ortho being dangerous, just to make Idia anxious to lose his knight in shining armor. This got so bad that he made Idia cry like a baby one time because the guy convinced him that he would make everything to take Ortho away from him. And Idia isn’t an idiot; he knew that this wasn’t as simple, but something about the way the guy said it made him break down and cry pathetically.

Idia pretty much lived in fear for an entire year, and somewhere around the middle of the first semester the guy started molesting him. Ortho didn’t intervene because Idia tried his best to hide it from him, even when the guy started demanding Idia to suck him off and started sticking fingers up Idia’s ass, mostly to humiliate him. This is why Idia thought that he was either a masochist or just unstable, because while he absolutely hated it, he felt like he also didn’t mind it enough. The guy got kicked out of NRC before he actually raped (=put his penis into Idia) him, and while Idia was super happy, he also felt disappointed. As if Idia deserved bad things to happen to him… or was he actually into this dynamic and wanted to feel punished and used by someone who treats him like shit? He was never into butt stuff before, but he felt himself aching for a dick that he sucked for months while the guy was humiliating him.

Sometimes Idia fantasises about getting violated by other NRC students. It’s not like he looks at them and sighs dreamily, more of a “what if/how would he do this” type of way. He thinks it’s just his morbid curiosity, and even thinks that it’s very self-centered of him to think that Azul or Rook or Sebek or Lilia or Cater or anyone else would want to rape him, but… what if? He has pretty solid scenarios in his head for some of them, it’s surprisingly easy to come up with them based on their interactions…

Idia kind of likes it when his entire head is being hidden during sex. Well, likes the idea of it. Maybe it’s due to the fact that it keeps him anonymous, but the idea of a bag on his head or a hole-in-the-wall thing kind of tickles him. He had a bunch of dreams about getting stuck in a hole in the wall and then being used as a fuck toy. These dreams always end with someone somehow recognising him and calling him “Idia?” though, so Idia wakes up covered in sweat.

One time Idia almost became one of those people who die due to strangling themselves during masturbation. And he isn’t even into this type of stuff, he just wanted to try to see if it would work or not. He didn’t pull his pants down or anything, he tried to do it through clothes, so he was fucking lucky that Ortho woke up just in time to see him passed out with a noose around his neck. Poor Ortho got so worried and obviously came to wrong conclusions, but Idia felt way too embarrassed to confess about the actual reason why he ended up in this situation… it feels horrible knowing that he made Ortho so worried and upset and heartbroken, but he just couldn’t say that he did it to feel good when he orgasms.

[nuttynutcycle]

Prompt fill for @epiclamer prompt fill game! “Okay I know it was literally JUST posted but what about a switcheroo, tall villain and short hero :]'

“Little one,” he hummed, “Come out of your hiding place.” His grin sharpened as he reduced a pine tree into splinters and broken branches. “I won’t bite.”

That was less than reassuring. The protagonist clutched the stolen plans closer to her chest, barely daring to breathe. 

The antagonist had sneered when he found the empty case, smiled when the protagonist barrelled out of their hiding place through a window and laughed as she ran into the forest. Equal parts leisurely and methodical, the glint in his eyes riveled the one lining the axe.

“Leave the plans behind. Still time to escape.” the antagonist cut down another tree and the protagonist winced. She curled her body and crawled under a fallen tree, moving as quickly as she dared.

After weeks of preparation, three bribed guards and nine bypassed levels of security, leaving the plans was not an option. Her breath hitched when she saw the electric fence come into view. The buzz in the air meant the antagonist had gotten the power back on before she had predicted. Stomach on the ground, she wiggled into a rotting log. Gross, but effective.

“I know your face.”

She unrolled the plans and winced at another tree crashing through the underbrush. Her eyes flickered over the diagrams, committing as much as she could to memory.

“One of my more impressive talents is my ability to find people,” the antagonist said as casually as having a chat about the weather. “And those they care about.” Another tree fell, skewering the moss below. “Can you really protect everyone?”

No, but that’s a problem for later. She took one last look at the plans, counted to three and crawled out of the log and into plain sight. The sticks hurt her hands and the dust made her cough.

The antagonist grinned, eyes shining through the haze. 

“Are these your plans?” She held up the plans in mock surrender. “I thought they were your diary. My bad.”

He twirled his axe. “Giving up that easily is a disappointing end.” 

 “What can I say?” Her shrug did nothing to hide her tremor. “You make very effective threats.”

“One of my many talents. Drop them on the ground.”

“I’d like to make a deal,” She swallowed dryly. “I give you the plans, you turn off the electric fence for the next ten minutes.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Counteroffer – I put my axe in your knee and take the plans before your first scream is finished.”

“Shame, I was on track to win the ‘Best Legs’ contest at work.” The protagonist slowly backed away.

The antagonist laughed at that, some mirth entering his grin. The tip of the axe rested against the ground. “Alright, have it your way. As soon as my property is back inside, I’ll turn the fence off for ten minutes.”

“…I have your word?” The antagonist was many things, but in their line of work, his word was as close to honourable as you could get.

The antagonist nodded. 

Maybe the protagonist would regret this, but she tossed the plans to the antagonist. The antagonist reached up and casually placed the plans on an overarching tree branch – out of the protagonist's reach. 

“Thank you for returning my work.” The antagonist’s expression shifted, eyes sharpening and smile hardening.

Welp. “This was nice.” She struggled to keep her voice steady as he matched her backward scramble step for step. “But my team is waiting for me, I really must be going-“

“It was foolish,” his hand slammed into a tree beside her, sending splinters and wood chips flying, “to memorize my property.”

The protagonist’s voice faltered. “We have a deal.”

“And as soon as you’re secured in a cell and the plans are in their case, I’ll cut power for ten minutes. I’m a man of my word.” He levelled the axe at the protagonist, and this close, the bloodstains were clearly visible. “Walk.”

The protagonist’s breath hitched as she turned back towards the imposing building.

“Don’t be upset.” The antagonist said from behind, axe twirling. “Desperation suits you.”

[cheerycherrycandy-resurrected]

A Very Midwest Emo Yuletide

I didn't intend on posting this on Christmas, but here we are! Oh and hi @alwaysjustmina I believe I promised you this...

Found-family Yuletide meal, set in the Midwest Emo Ghouls AU. Mountain and Swiss are hosting the annual Yuletide meal and everyone's invited, even a special guest from New York...

Some Ghroup Yuletide meal found family fluff, not at all inspired by my uni-reunion-christmas-meal last weekend.

Rating: General wc: ~ 1600

Read below the cut or on AO3!

For the Midwest Emo AU, when there's multiple career hcs on the tag I chose my favorite, likewise sorry for any Britishisms. I’m saying this has the same “US-UK-hodgepodge" vibes as Sex Education did on Netflix...

“Give me a hand, Mount!” called Swiss, as he dragged a freshly-felled fir tree through the door. As always he’d left it to the last minute and, as always, he’d overestimated the size of tree they could realistically fit inside their low-ceilinged farmhouse on the edge of town.

Mountain chuffed in amusement, drying his hands on his apron, before helping Swiss bully the tree into a somewhat-upright position in the corner, into the holder he had made many years previously.

“Fewer squirrels still living in it this year then, Snapdragon?” Mountain laughed over his shoulder, bustling back to the kitchen end of the large room.

“I can’t promise!” Swiss paused to re-tie his boots, before grabbing a bucket and heading back out the door to dig up the root vegetables he had held back specially for their Yuletide feast. Almost everyone was coming this year, and they were sure to be hungry.

“Where are we on the schedule then Mounty?” asked Aurora, her rolled-up sleeves the only part of her not dusted in flour or icing of some kind. She bent down to glare at the cake she had in the oven, daring it not to rise.

“We’re making good time Ror, the Turkey’s ready to go in as soon as your cake is finished, I’ll make pigs-in-blankets later, then it’s just potatoes, parsnips, carrots, and sprouts as soon as Swiss is done. Have you heard how the girls are getting on this morning?”

“Lulu says Cirrus filled the car with bottles last night so we’re good for drinks, and she already made a Yule log and a plum pudding yesterday, and a trifle this morning!”

“Everything’s going to plan then. I hope Dew’s given Rain time to prepare everything they’re bringing…”

Across town, Rain was indeed pushed for time, thanks to his rather stressed husbands buzzing around his head all morning. He was incredibly grateful he’d made the stuffing and cranberry sauce the night before; he was running behind finishing his nut roast, and hadn’t even started on the cauliflower cheese yet. Dewdrop was panicking about his upcoming Yuletide sermon, a yearly occurrence (both the panicking and the sermon), and Phantom had somehow managed to lose all of the craft materials he needed for the youth club event he was running at the church with Sunshine.

When their doorbell rang, immediately followed by several loud knocks signalling Sunny’s characteristic impatience, Rain had breathed a sign of relief. She had whisked Phant away for the day, reminding him that she had all the construction paper and glitter, and promising to be at Swiss and Mountain’s on time for the meal later. Rain was glad she was driving, last year he’d still been vacuuming glitter out of his car in April. Sunny taught pre-K at the local school, and since the school term had already ended, she and Phantom were running an extended youth group session for the children and kits who’s parents had to work today. She had been over at the youth pastor’s house several nights this week already, trying to teach him how to make pipe-cleaner Yule goats.

Now just Dew remained, and Rain was splitting his time between packing his nut roast into a pan, and reassuring Dew that yes, his sermon’s message was clear, no it wasn’t boring, yes he would still love him if it went badly, and no he’s not fed up with him talking about it, and nor is Phantom. Eventually, he stuffed a wooden spoon into his hand, and told him to get stirring the cheese sauce while the cauliflower steamed.

Back at the farmhouse, Aurora’s cake was cooling on the side and the turkey was in the oven. Swiss had returned with enough vegetables to feed a small army which he was busy washing and chopping to roast with honey from his bees later. Mountain and Aurora were hurriedly decorating the tree, hanging almost a decade’s worth of decorations made and gifted to them by Mountain and Swiss’ scout troop. Cirrus and Cumulus were due to arrive any minute, and the hosts wanted their home to feel suitably festive before they put them to work helping to finish dinner.

“Ding dong!” trilled a voice entering through the open kitchen door. Cumulus bustled in, arms laden with goodies. “Cir’s just backing the car up.”

“Hey Lus, good to see you!” Swiss moved to pull her into a hug, remembering at the last minute to put down the large knife he was holding first.

“Lulu! My dessert queen!” squealed Aurora as she ran back into the kitchen, her socked feet sliding on the flagstone floor. She narrowly avoided toppling into Cirrus, bags clinking with bottles that no doubt promised a good time once they returned from church that evening. “Oh, hi Riri, did you bring the lavender syrup from the bar?”

“Let her breathe first, Petal.” Mountain also re-entered the kitchen, and laid one of his large and gentle hands on Aurora’s shoulder.

“Hello Rory, everyone, happy Yule!” setting the bags gently on the floor, Cirrus deftly extracted a small purple bottle from one of them. “Lavender syrup, m’lady”.

“Amazing, thanks Cir! Lu, will you help me taste the frosting for my cake? I don’t want to add too much lavender, I can’t feed Mist soap cake!”

Biting back a smile, Cumulus let herself be dragged over to the still cooling cake, and the bowl of frosting waiting next to it. Aurora and Her Yule Cake had been a much discussed topic all week: Aurora’s not-at-all-subtle crush on Mist, the ghoulette who owned the town’s small record shop, was not as secret as she may have hoped. After their last run-in at the coffee shop Rory worked in, during which Mist had briefly mentioned that her favourite cake was an Earl-Grey and lavender concoction she’d had in her art student days, Aurora had been obsessed with the idea of making it for their Yule celebration. Mist wasn’t due to arrive until later in the day, as she lodged in Zephyr’s spare room and had promised them and Omega a lift out to the farm straight after they finished work at the local GP surgery.

Mountain pottered back over to check on the turkey, and hummed in satisfaction at what he saw. He began loading Cumulus’ desserts into the fridge, before pulling out sausages and bacon to assemble Phantom’s favourite Yuletide trimming.

The next to arrive were Rain and Dew, both looking somewhat frazzled, arms loaded with foil-covered trays. Separately and silently, the pair dumped their offerings on the counter before beelining for the fridge for a drink to de-stress. Mountain snickered and shook his head at them fondly, before putting Rain’s nut roast into the oven and removing the turkey to rest. There was a reason Rain, Dew and Phantom never hosted Yule, after all.

Phantom and Sunny showed up a while later, both with hair full of glitter and even some in Phantom’s eyebrow. The children and kits from the youth church group had made them their annual Yuletide decorations, which they hung on the tree with Cirrus. Phantom proudly showed off his best attempt yet at a Yule goat to Dew, the horns almost even this time.

Last to arrive, as expected, were Omega, Zephyr and Mist, Omega still loosening his festive tie as he walked in the door and trading it with Swiss for a beer. Aurora was very glad she had changed her flour-dusted outfit after her baking escapades: Mist had clearly put in effort, her short shock of icy platinum hair meticulously styled to look effortless. As she laid a cool hand on Aurora’s arm, wishing her a happy Yuletide in her low, soft voice, Aurora had blushed almost as red as the sequins on her dress.

Eventually, Swiss managed to wrangle everybody into a mis-match of seats around the table, and Mountain led the charge of serving up the food. In a flurry of plates, side-dishes and serving spoons, everybody soon had a plate piled high with their annual Yuletide feast.

Just as Mountain was taking the final seat, there was a knock at the door. While the others shared confused glances, Mountain and Swiss exchanged a knowing look.

“Get the door would you Dew? You’re closest.” asked Swiss.

Dew huffed and rolled his eyes, but there was no heat behind it. He moved to the door, throwing it open to meet a pair of warm, violet eyes above a soft and almost sheepish grin.

“Aether!” he had all-but shrieked, throwing himself into the larger ghoul’s chest with such force he almost pushed him straight back out the door.

“Hey there Firefly, Happy Yule.” Aether brought large arms up to encircle Dew in a hug, slowly walking them far enough into the house to close the door.

“Glad you made it Aeth!” Swiss smiled, clapping him on the shoulder as he pulled another chair up to the table, squeezing it in between his and Dew’s.

“Just in time too!” Mountain placed a hastily filled extra plate of food in front of the new chair, and leaned over a still-attached Dewdrop to gently knock horns with Aether. Aether deposited Dew back into his seat before taking his own, exchanging greetings with the other ghouls, both old friends and newer.

After a very merry Yule feast, but before stuffing themselves further with dessert and cake – or getting lost to Cirrus’ lethal cocktails – they piled into a selection of cars to head to church, all of Dew’s nerves forgotten in the excitement of Aether’s return.

[ahomeforwisters]

ava gift exchange 2023! 🎄🥳

it's here! happy holidays, lulw (@tdlad), hope you're having a good one! this isn't a piece of visual art since i don’t have the tools to create one, so you get a dr. seuss-inspired fic + a part of a fic i might finish later!

due to irl events, i had to rush these a bit, but i hope you enjoy it either way :) have a wonderful winter (or summer, depending on where you are) week, and happy (early) new year! *gives gingerbread cookie*

(prompt: i tried to combine elements from all three, but i focused on “the dark lord with red coat (that tdl in my posts)” specifically—your art is just gorgeous, btw!)

word count: ~1400 for the first one/the dr. suess-y one, ~1320 (and counting?) for the second one/the unfinished one

(and special thanks to @avagiftexchange for hosting this!)

Fic 1: How the Grinch Dark Lord Stole Christmas (or: dark's christmas cake romp)

Every stick in Stick City, near the end of the year, Every stick in Stick City brimmed with holiday cheer…

But! The Dark Lord, who’s not far from here, Who lived in the wintry woods quite near— The Dark Lord held Christmas even more dear!

~-~

The Dark Lord loved Christmas, this is no bluff, And you’d best believe it, he just can’t get enough! Was it because he enjoyed the sound of children laughing clear, Or did he simply have a particular liking for reindeer? Well I’ll tell you his secret, his reason for this: He really, really liked log cakes, they fill him with bliss.

“Christmas awaits, on the very next day, Christmas really is just a day away!”

But, From his perch in the woods, Watching the stars from where he stood, With hungry eyes and vibrant ardor, With the growing desire for Christmas he harbors, (and a craving for frosting he just can’t ignore), The Dark Lord knew: he needed more!

He needed more of all that Christmas had in store! And he will get more, he swore, He’ll claim even more of Christmas, ‘twas his right as a Lord!

But—how? Christmas is already drawing so near, Soon enough, Christmas will practically already be here! He needed more time, and he needed… a plan! A plan to put Christmas in the palm of his hand.

So The Dark Lord schemed, And he schemed, and he schemed, And he conjured a scheme, A terrible scheme!

“A-ha! I’ve got a brilliant idea!”

Dark cackled, a sound from deep in his throat, As he pulled from his closet his most dapper red coat. “They’ll never see me coming, even from the skies, “So long as I craft myself a most clever disguise!”

So he lined his coat with cotton, like Santa’s coat proper, Just as into the room, his friend Chosen entered— “Look, dearest Chosen, I’ve come up with a plan, “A plan to seize Christmas in the palm of my hand!”

Dear Chosen deadpanned, “Why are you talking like that,” And right after, he inquired, what about your silly Santa’s hat?

“No I didn’t—”

“Right here! I believe my night cap is sufficient,” Dark proclaimed, wearing the hat over his ears. “Now I only need a reindeer…”

But around this area, their part of the woods here, This much Dark knew: you wouldn’t find any deer! But was Dark deterred…? No! He said, “If I can’t find a deer, I’ll just make one instead!”

“...What do you think you’re doing with that big red nose.”

…And Dark ended up sticking the nose and antlers on his one last Virabot instead!

And so, with his little red cap on his hollow red head, And his feet firmly planted in his makeshift sled— He took with him a burlap sack, Which he then hoisted upon his back— He yelled, “Onward!” just before he took flight, Off to steal Christmas, he disappeared into the night!

~-~

Back on the ground, Chosen gazed down at the cardboard box—sorry, at the sled—Dark left behind. He stared at the confused Virabot, wearing an antler headband and sporting a red clown nose glued to its face, and sighed. “This is so stupid…”

~-~

A jaunty holiday tune played from an open Chrome window, But not a sound could be heard coming from inside their homes. He was here at last, and at the perfect time, too— They must all be in their beds, dreaming away without a clue! “Now to enact my plan…”

So he climbed down the chimney, one crafted from brick, It wasn’t too tight a fit, for he was literally a stick. Though he did get stuck once, or twice, maybe thrice— And he cursed his head, loudly, for it was massive in size. “Ow—seriously, who makes chimneys this small—”

“Second, is that you?”

Just as Dark managed to extricate himself, finally, Free from the clutches of that dastardly chimney— He came face-to-face with his first obstacle: Little Cindy-Blue Who, carrying fruits in a bowl.

“Wha… Little Cindy-Blue who?”

That’s right! Little Cindy-Blue Who, probably much older than two, Who… was actually awake at this time? But it’s two (a.m.)!

“Oh, no, we don’t actually sleep. Like at all. Except Second, sometimes, but he’s off doing his own thing right now. But uhh, anyways, hi, Dark Lord! What—what’s up? And why are you dressed like…”

And oh, there was a cautious glint in his eyes— He was nervous! But there was no need for such fright, Not if Dark wanted his plan to go without a hitch. So Dark would assure him, and explain his impromptu visit:

“You see, sweet youth—you see, the job of Santy, “Is to stock up your stockings, and fill them aplenty! “So that’s what I’m here for—but not you, my dear, “For this gift’s a surprise, so I can’t have you near.”

And the lie rolled cleanly off The Dark Lord’s tongue, For he was clever, and sure to fool the young. And surely enough, Cindy-Blue Who was nodding, Raring and ready to hurry back to bed a-plodding. You’re right, Santa Dark, he joyfully exclaimed, I’ll head right back to bed now! With a turn and a wave.

“What? But I didn’t say anythi—”

And so, with his burlap sack swinging, And with Cindy-Blue assuaged, standing there beaming— “Hey, don’t—get back here…!” The Dark Lord marched onward, his first obstacle cleared!

…only to find four more, all waiting at the door!

(…crap)

Ahem—what a surprise! The Dark Lord gasped, He can’t believe his eyes, ‘twas something he almost couldn’t grasp— What a sight, that they’d all come to greet him so, How happy they must be, to all rush out and greet him so!

“Hey uhh… what’s he saying?”

‘What’s he saying?’ They’re asking what game he’s playing! They ask why he’s here, and on what he was preying. But! faced with a barrier of four— Now five, as Cindy-Blue Who, panting, adds one more… They all block his path to the far kitchen door, But has this ever stopped The Dark Lord before? No!

“Hey wait, where are you going?” Cindy-Blue called when Dark showed no signs of slowing.

“Why’d you come here all of a sudden?” Said the yellow, placing a hand on his chin.

“The Cindy-blue-what now?” Slowly asked the red fellow.

“And what’s with the getup?” Queried Green, looking him from the toes up.

“Oh, Chosen told me he and Dark recently discovered these popular picture books. And ever since then, Dark’s been narrating everything he does in rhyme.”

“Ah, is that why he’s talking like that?” Yellow asked, eyeing his little Santa’s hat.

“That’s actually kind of impressive,” Remarked Green, who’s usually quite quick to forgive.

“Ooh, try rhyming something with orange!” Red said as Cindy-Blue stood next to Orange.

“Please stop calling me that, I don’t even know what it means,” Groaned Cindy-Blue Who, beside a laughing Green.

“Hey guys, Chosen texted me again just now—apparently Dark is here trying to ‘steal Christmas’ from us—which really just means he wants our log cakes.”

(goddammit Chosen you traitor)

“Wait, that’s it? That’s what that devious plan he was cackling about is?”

“I mean, Blue could always just make another cake. You could’ve just asked if you wanted one.”

“Yeah, and you’re… kind of really bad at sneaking? We could hear you narrating really loudly as soon as you got here.”

“And cursing out Orange’s chimney, too. Geez, that was vulgar…”

“Well,” with a flourish, the orange stick gestures, Towards the kitchen, where Dark had been hoping to plunder. “We’ve got some cake, if you want it. Next time just let us know you’re coming before you tear a portal through our wifi. And maybe keep your visits during the daytime, or at least don’t come crawling down my chimney past midnight…”

What was this? Could it be—no, it simply couldn’t be… But it was! “They’ll stand here and hand Christmas—to me?” For ‘twas the season of giving, of gifts freely given, Of gingerbread, batter, and cakes in the kitchen.

And there Dark stood and pondered, and pondered, and pondered, ‘Til a bright thought struck him! One that filled him with wonder: Could it be, then, that Christmas was not for the taking, But for shared cheer and laughs and all that in the making?

“Oh, for Adobe’s—just sit down and have some log cake.” And, well— ‘Twas simply an offer Dark cannot forsake.

- the end -

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

Fic 2: i don't actually have a name for it yet, but i think i'll call it thaw for now

Christmas. ‘Twas a time of joyous laughter and warm embraces, of fireside affections and wintry escapades. ‘Twas the season of giving, be it presents or sweets or even the simplest of smiles—‘twas a time when even the little things, when given to another, are made infinitely precious.

Christmas. ‘Twas an absolutely perplexing holiday, for a stick such as The Dark Lord—and ‘twas a completely pointless one, too, as far as Dark was concerned.

Yet, when a pair of glittery red envelopes arrived at the doorstep of his and Chosen’s cabin in the woods—and when he opened one of them up to find an invitation inside, filigreed in gold and writ upon with a blue gel pen (in rather shaky handwriting, he noticed)—he didn’t immediately turn it to ash. He regarded it for longer than he normally would’ve, longer than he should’ve, turning it this way and that under the light—‘You’re invited!’, it winked up at him. If he didn’t know better just how sappy the animator’s favorite and his friends can be, he would’ve thought this was some kind of taunt.

(“You’re invited!”? who in their right minds would want to invite The Dark Lord, the outernet’s worst cyber-criminal, to something as mundane—as warm alien pointless—as a holiday gathering?)

While he was still winning gots nose at the gaudy invitation, the only other stick around for miles appeared in his periphery—Chosen picked up an envelope, too, when he saw what Dark was studying at the doorway. Dark almost hadn’t noticed when his fr… when his roommate had snuck up behind him, his pronounced footfalls doing little to breach the chasm between them; it was all he could do to stop himself from launching a fireball at Chosen as soon as the latter reached past him (he hadn’t forgotten how well that’d gone for him the last time…) 

Clumsily, fumbling with it once or twice, Chosen peeled at the envelope. His invitation was inked in orange instead of blue, littered with tiny scribbled drawings, and written in much neater script, too. Dark couldn’t catch the rest; Chosen always stood with his feet angled toward him these days, so his invitation turned away from view. That, and he’d moved a few paces away from the doorway—and Dark wasn’t interested anyway, he wasn’t. Pointless, he told himself again, it was such a pointless gesture. It was something he didn’t need—The Dark Lord had better things to do, had more important things to do, than to entertain something as small and banal as a Christmas party—it was a pointless affair, that was all it was.

(and yet.)

And yet. Dark wouldn’t be able to say what possessed him to do it; if it was sheer curiosity, a part of him balking at his own degrading wonder—or if it was when Chosen’s fingers tightened their hold on his invitation, carving minute creases into the paper,

and when the other stick’s eyes crinkled, just barely, in tender longing silent laughter only Dark would recognize—when those eyes finally met his, carrying a question and a spark Dark hadn’t seen in so long—he couldn’t find it within him to say no.

(it was Chosen’s idea, he would say later—it was all his roommate’s fault, the first and last person to extend their hand to him, that he was crashing their little party. he hadn’t wanted this, hadn’t needed it—he didn’t need this, he didn’t.)

~-~

If he was being honest—Dark really didn’t have anything better to do than to attend the party.

Ever since he was blasted to kingdom come by the animator’s favorite, ever since a battered Chosen had found him at the foot of a volcano and hauled his near-corpse all the way back to their cabin—in the months since, he’d seldom left their secluded area in the woods to do anything more than take a short walk. His shoulder still smarted from the hole that’d been blown through it, his skin etched with throbbing green scars all over—he couldn’t travel far beyond the bounds of the woods without wilting, robbed of breath. Needless to say, his heydays of ash and destruction were far behind him.

(and even if all his progress hadn’t been deleted, rendered void when Chosen destroyed the rest of his virabots following the “incident”—these days, looking at the place where he’d once stood tapping away at his computer, believing himself the inheritor of a grander purpose than the one dealt to him by the animator—it left an sour taste in his mouth.)

In his current condition, even petty theft seemed beyond his capabilities. Which was going to be a problem, he realized, when he turned to the back of the invitation and saw the damning first rule of the party written in a bold green: “Come in a costume! No costume, NO ENTRY.”

Well, in the state he was in, he wasn’t going to be pulling any heists anytime soon, not even on cheap outfitters—and he doubted any store would simply let a notorious cyber-criminal waltz into their establishment, even just to look around. That left him with only two options: either go through his own closets, or brave Chosen’s minefield of a room to rifle through his. It wasn’t a hard decision to make. 

With practiced ease (and only slightly impeded by his still-healing injuries), Dark picked his way past piles of lightly-charred sweaters, discarded bandages, random knick knacks collecting dust over the years, a self-sustaining tornado of trash—all the way across his roommate’s bedroom to reach the far end where the closets were. While Dark considered his fashion sense to be impeccable, none of his clothes really screamed “festive.” It was all something along the lines of “looks like he could kill you” or “warning: would actually kill you.” Chosen’s taste in clothes, on the other hand, was more… eclectic. There was more variety; he’d probably have a better chance finding something acceptable to wear here than in his own wardrobe.

Dark threw open the leftmost closet, a mahogany behemoth with the price sticker still slapped on the left door, and oh, that was—what even was that? No, those pants were too long, and the pair beside them the wrong shade of green—and oh, that’s garish, why did he even think to nab this? What is this even supposed to be, a mop? Or some kind of shawl? That color is way too bright to ever belong on a shirt, that shirt is a visual safety hazard. And what—why aren’t these socks the same, where’s the other one in the pair? None of these socks are the same—is that a pair of googly eyes—

Dark shut the closet door. He should’ve expected this, really; he’d witnessed the affront to fashion that was Chosen’s wardrobe thousands of times before, whenever they had to disguise themselves to go into the city. The two other closets wouldn’t be much better, he knew, but just as he was turning to head back toward the door—had that box always been there?

Tucked away into the corner of the room was a small cardboard box, a little tattered and stained in several spots from years of disuse but otherwise appearing untouched by the surrounding mess. As an expert at navigating Chosen’s room, Dark knew for certain it hadn’t been there the last time he was here (just over three months ago. he’d been scrounging for one of the aprons he’d left in Chosen’s room; it feels like it’s been forever since then.)

It took only a short hop for Dark to reach it. The next second, he was kneeling down in front of it, carefully lifting the top flaps—and sure, maybe a part of him was prodding at him, telling him whatever was in there was probably stashed away in the corner for a reason, reminding him that things are different now, the space between you and him, it’s different now—but that hadn’t ever stopped Dark before

(aaand that's all i have for this second one for now. i'll probs post the rest on ao3 or something if i finish this, but i'll def let you know!)

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

but yeah, anywho, that's all—have a wonderful holiday season! :)

[landofzero-archive]

Ougonten - Account of the Dragon's Ascension 1

Writer: Kanata Haruka

Season: Winter

(Location: Starmony Dorms Common Area)

Mika: Heave-ho…… Fuu…… Thanks a bunch, Shiratori-kun. Let’s take a break here fer now. 

Aira: We should. The unexpectedly large luggage wore me out.

Mika: Sorry fer draggin’ ya into this.

I was plannin’ on takin’ home some of my personal stuff from the handicraft club before I graduated, but it turned out to be more luggage than I expected.

Aira: No no, I had free time too. Actually, it was a feast for the eyes to see the treasured works of art belonging to Kagehira-senpai!

Also, while we were returning together, I got to hear a lot of behind the scenes stories about Machina.

As an idol otaku, it was a time of ultimate bliss♪ I’m super happy!

Mika: I appreciate ya sayin’ that. I feel bad that I can’t do anythin’ to thank ya fer yer help though……

Aira: Being able to talk about Machina with Kagehira-senpai is more than enough thanks!

Even thinking back on it now, I’m overwhelmed by that fantastic universe.

Mika: Ahaha, don’t praise me too much. Since it’s about me, I might get too excited over it.

Aira: That can’t be! From my point of view, I can’t say enough about it!

I got it! The Machina live show was good, but the show before that, “Test World,” was also amazing!

Mika: Eh!? Sh-Shiratori-kun, how do ya know about Test World!?

No one would know about that unless they were logged into that virtual world.

Aira: Ah, I didn’t see it directly! I saw the video.

Someone recorded a video of what happened in Test World and posted it on SNS.

I was so disappointed when I saw that video. I wondered why I couldn’t have gotten to see Valkyrie’s bravery with my own eyes.

Itsuki-senpai and Kagehira-senpai’s appearance at that time…… Even when I remember it, I can’t help but sigh as my tears fell.

The sight of you two looking down on everyone from above and bringing the end of the world was truly divine!

The highlight was the innocence of Kagehira-senpai, when you made money rain like hot water saying, “Art is an explosion~!”

MIka: I-It’s spread to that extent!?

Aira: Yep! I watched that scene so much I thought I was going to pierce a hole into my phone!

Mika: Don’t look at me like that! That’s where I think I got too carried away!

Uuu…… I guess I did too much by throwin’ away the money. That’s usually a punishment.

Aira: No no, I think it was a good thing!

I loved Kagehira-senpai in that scene so much that I couldn’t help but share my thoughts about it on SNS.

Kagehira-senpai’s appearance at that time, the sparkling money was like—

Mitsuru: (Whispering) Mika-ni~chan should have entered this room. I’ll sneak inside and investigate……

Mika: Ah, that’s Mitsuru-kun ain’t it. Welcome home~. What’s goin’ on, sneakin’ around like that?

Mitsuru: Uwah!? Mika-ni~chan was still in front of the door!?

Aira: Ah, sorry! Now that I think about it, we were standing in front of the door talking for a long while.

Mika: Ngah~ we’re gettin in the way of people comin’ in later. Sorry for scarin’ ya, Mitsuru-kun.

Mitsuru: I-it’s okay!! I’m going back to my room now, so Mika-ni~chan and the others can enjoy chatting~!

Mika: Eh, Mitsuru-kun!?

…… He left. Since he came into the room, I assume he had somethin’ to do but…

Did I say somethin’ to annoy Mitsuru-kun?

Aira: Hmm~mm…… Maybe he was just too surprised?

Anyway, it’s not a good idea to just stand around and talk like this. We shouldn’t surprise anyone coming in like Tenma-senpai again.

Mika: Alright. I don’t know if I can drag this luggage to my room.

Aira: That’s true…… But first, let’s have some tea and take a break. It’s never too late to carry your luggage.

Besides, I want to chat with Kagehira-senpai a bit more!

Mika: Haah. If you're serious about it, let’s make some hot tea first♪

(Location: Starmony Dorms Hallway (1F))

Mitsuru: Fuu…… That was dangerous. I almost got caught by Mika-ni~chan.

But with this I was able to learn more about Mika-ni~chan again! I’ll make a note of it right away.

“Mika-ni~chan was a good god who enjoyed standing and talking with his friends,” and…

Hmm…… It seems like this isn’t enough after all~!

A~lright, let’s find more and more divine aspects of Mika-ni~chan!

Directory | Next

[crowleys-right-eyeball]

“And the universe said I love you

because you are love.”

below the cut i have so much to say and some extra silly things to share. feel free to scroll past the paragraph if you aren’t interested, but tl;dr is that me and my story support you clown <3

WOW i love the end poem,,,,, couldn’t resist using it, i feel like it’s the right ocassion BUT here’s my amazing notes app script

- i write this for clown, for myself, and for anyone curious enough to read. i feel like i should probably have a little more of a sense for what should and shouldn’t go on my main account, but i consider this to be a very rare meaningful thought of mine. i guess i’m not one to talk much about my own creative projects for reasons, but i do want to share my own experiences.

- i will never forget what she did to my sweet wisteria and everything i made. i’ve had him for as long as i can remember, and he’s always been a part of me. but i shared him with the wrong person and it costed me the love i had for a story once so dear to me. i held him so close, and i’ve held him even closer ever since she said all the things she’d do to him. it’s a miracle i ever got back into writing for my wisteria, because at the time all i wanted was to get rid of him and everything he meant to me. and i’m only one person, she was only one person, and i cannot imagine what it must feel like to see as many people as you have do the same to your world.

- i do feel sort of selfish thinking you would read this or that i sort of made it about me, but i just want you to know that the majority of us will support you no matter what. i am only one of literally thousands of people that saw your work through youtube or tiktok or whatever, so i suppose this is more of a log of what you got me thinking about. your work and what i’ve seen from your tumblr genuinely inspires me, and i don’t mean it in a sappy way, i mean that i have literally thought long and hard about your work when working on my portfolio as it captures a lot of what i’m doing with my own.

- whatever you choose to make private, if anything, know that you have made such a huge and wonderful impact on so many people. my heart aches for what you have been going through as a consequence for this, but there’s always going to be a bright side, right?

- i’ll end with some silly doodles of my guys and the wh guys and another quote from one of my interests to brighten the mood!! we love you, clown <3

about to make this post longer than the steddie ficlets i have saved 🔥🔥

tumblr is actually so bugged rn so i can’t add image commentary in the tags BUT i’ll try to edit it later 🔥🔥🔥 okay now i’m a sappy sucker here’s another FAVORITE quote and we’ll play guess what niche interest it is

“With you, I am ready to face whatever awaits.”

*bows* thank you for coming

- 🧣💫

[xiaoxiongmaos]

end (beginning?) of year appreciation post ♡

hello~ this is xixi (also @/choibeomggyu)!

♡ # ⏤ e

@20cm @97chwe @agibbangs @ambivartence ♡ @ashisland ♡ @awek-s @beomgyus @choiyeonjuns ♡ @connecteds @ddonghyun @digitalgirls ♡ @dongjusmilf @dreamaze​ @euijin 

♡ g ⏤ j

@go-saeng ♡ @hearttoshu ♡ @hoyounq ♡ @hueningkai @hwarizon @hyunjins @hyunpic @hyunsung @inhypen @injunnies @innielove @inracha @itshyuka ♡ @jaeyooniverse @jaeyunsim @jihan @junhee

♡ k ⏤ p

@kdongyoung @kyucob @leejinkie @leemarkies ♡ @leenow @letsstaywithstraykids @limsejun ♡ @maatryoshkaa @nevoono @parksnghoon @pjmsdior @polaroidlove

♡ r ⏤ z

@racha @saltys @scoupsy @seonghwaminho @seunglixes ♡ @seungminhos @seungs @slowrabbitpd​ @smallkore @song-mingi ♡ @strayz @usertae @wonjinist @y2kjungkook @yeonjuins ♡ @yeonjune @yjunies ♡ @yongseungkim ♡

(if there’s a ♡ after your url, i’ve left a little (or not so little hehe) note under the cut for you!)

♡ ⏤

i had originally planned to make a year-end post for all my lovely friends/mutuals which then got dragged into the first week of 2023 on my bday ;;;;; but thank you so much to all the lovely people that have followed this quaint little blog of mine and supported my content throughout my time here on tumblr! i can’t believe it’ll be a whole 1460 days since i made this account later this year... feels like just yesterday i signed up and logged in for the first time ever hehe

it always brings a smile to my face seeing each and every single silly, cute, sweet, supportive tag under any of my gifs, graphics, fanart etc.! i really cannot emphasize enough how wonderful it is to see people like my work enough to reblog it, take time out of their day to gush about it in the tags or send me the occasional ask/dm complimenting any aspect of it (´,,•ω•,,)♡ i truly appreciate all of you.

with the new year finally here and all, i’m sure a lot of people have resolutions and expectations set for the next 365 days so just remember to take it easy⏤start small and that’ll eventually lead you to kick bigger goals out there! you’ll see that every micro-habit has a monumentous impact when you look back on your progress, so read even one paragraph daily or go to sleep 15 mins earlier than you usually would. after all, buildings don’t just appear out of nowhere, you have to stack each brick one by one c: just make sure to not overexert yourself!

thank you to everyone once again, i love looking at all of your beautiful creations on the dashboard and seeing you in my notifications, as well as interacting with you whenever the opportunity arises c:

⏤ ♡

@itshyuka ⏤ oh, where to start... i just really, really, really miss you. a ton. thank you so much for teaching me how to gif, i don’t know where i’d be (probably still getting confused looking at the layers panel dljkdjfjf) if it weren’t for you, lia ♡ late 2019-early 2020 was one of the toughest years of my life and i’ll forever be indebted and grateful to you for being there to cheer me up with your hyuka info dumps, our inspiring conversations and your lovely gifsets. whenever i feel down i go to your blog and feel refreshed just looking at it :D i owe all of my knowledge on ps, vs & anything to do with creating content to you, thank you for supporting me all the way back then to rooting for me even now, no matter how scarce our encounters have become. i hope life is treating you well, and that you become a well-loved and respected educator!

@choiyeonjuns ⏤ vivi! i have been trying to write this for about an hour now; writing, erasing then repeating multiple times⏤how to put everything into a miniature paragraph? words can never truly relay the amount of love i have for you and your blog, thank you for being my friend from day 1 on moablr and always supporting me. i love my little conversations with you whenever they sporadically happen, and i’m so glad we have so many common interests, enabling me to support your content across all of your blogs :3 i hope you get back all the love and support you gives others tenfold, and are always surrounded by happiness!

@go-saeng ⏤ i miss talking to you and seeing you on the dash a lot kashi ;;;;; meeting you was one of the highlights of my 2020-2021 and talking to you was always such a nice part of my day. i’m still blown away each time i see your gfx and gifs on the dashboard as well as am so proud of your gif growth. i also always go back to that runaway & minho + jeongin set you dedicated to me⏤considering all of the effort you put in to make something for myself makes me tear up sometimes... but when life’s rough, the very words you put under them comfort me beyond measure and i gain the strength to face whatever new challenge is thrown my way! hope that you are well and happy, may 2023 bring you loads of blessings!

@hoyounq ⏤ i’m not sure if you’ll see this but you introduced me to so many lovely people, filled my days with laughter and it’s been an absolute pleasure being mutuals with you, han (´｡• ω •｡`) talking to you and hanjess shenanigans on the timeline will forever be ingrained in my heart and i just want you to know that i really appreciate having you in my life! you’re truly the sunshine and rainbows in one’s life personified ♡

@hearttoshu ⏤ jess dearest! i really don’t know what to say dhfdjsd but i appreciate you so very much, always putting up with my incessant rambles about life, beomgyu, my favourite groups and everything in between! you’re such a sweet and perceptive person, always looking out for others and offering your support⏤i hope i can offer you the same. seeing you jaeyuning everywhere makes my heart warm and i’m so glad you got me more into to1 and verivery ♡ i love seeing your creations on the dashboard and in the tags, your sharpening is one of my absolute favourites because of how almost sparkly your gifs turn out to be... like rhinestones under the moonlight! hope you have a lovely year ahead c:

@ashisland ⏤ dear gabi: you’re so cute when you talk about your ults & i can’t help but get giddy whenever i read your tags, both under my posts and when you’re gushing over serim :D i’m so sorry for making you the target of all my non-sense, but i also will tell you that i can’t promise that it’ll cease, you’re the yeonjun to my beomgyu after all djfjddj i love your gifs so much and thank you for spending your precious time to make me stuff whenever you see me talk about it. hope lab gets easier to deal with for you this year and please know that you’re always doing a good job and worked hard⏤please take it easy on yourself, even by just a little!

@yeonjuins ⏤ woo! your talent never ceases to amaze me, from your well-crafted graphics to how you come up with new ways to bully heeseung sodkdkfj i know it’s not been long since we’ve started talking but you have quickly made your way into my list of friends and i love conversing with you ♡ i love your energy and end up feeling content after talking to you. here’s to another year of yeonjuins & your delightful creations on tumblr, as well as our friendship!

@digitalgirls ⏤ thank you so, so much for always supporting my work, jo! it’s lovely having you on the dash/timeline and i always get so inspired by your content, you’re definitely one of my (if not the most) coolest mutuals, the quality on your work and blog is insane :o i still feel so shy whenever i realize you follow me back and have been for a long while ^^; thank you for all of your hard work and i hope you have a wonderful 2023!

@song-mingi ⏤ my favourite atinytual and justbtual... thank you for single-handedly carrying both fandoms on your back and presenting us with all of your lovely content along with it! it’s super fun having you on the dashboard and i love interacting with you; you’re sunshine and rainbows personified too hehe how fitting for hanri! hope you have a lovely year ahead and that there’s loads more of irigifs to see ♡

@seunglixes ⏤ luna! i know it’s been a while but i love seeing your creations, and you, all the same! i don’t think i’ve met anyone who loves felix more than you yet⏤i hope that i can make you a bday present again this year and not miss the date as last year ;;;;; keep creating and loving felix in 2023 as well!

@ambivartence ⏤ thank you so much for always supporting the art i post siyuan! i love seeing your sweet tags under it and also your gifs + fanart on the dashboard! i appreciate the advice and love you’ve given me and my blog ♡ hope you get to expand your reach and develop your art style even more this year!

@limsejun​ sam my dear friend! i am so glad i had the fortune of meeting you, i really love all of your sets from both your kpop and kdrama blog; you motivated me to start a kdrama sideblog and i hope to engage with your content through it as well~ i’m still holding you to that promise of loving me forever for the sejun url djkafsjfk

@yjunies ⏤ your entire blog is just so pleasing to look at and every single thing you create is really pretty, ana ♡ i aspire to be able to make such beautiful content like yours one day; until then, i’ll simply ooh and aah at everything you put out u.u you’re such a sweet and kind person & i hope only good things come your way, always!

@yongseungkim ⏤ shine! i don’t know if you’ll be seeing this soon either but i love talking to you and hearing you go on about yongseung... thank you for pushing me to be more confident in myself and being my korean teacher (though it was short-lived haha); i hope 2023 treats you well! 

@leemarkies ⏤ marie my beloved! i am so glad i got paired with you for the secret santa event last year, as it did lead to us becoming friends. i love reading all your idiosyncratic tags and thank you for supporting my stray kids content since day one! i hope we can engage more this year and that you are surrounded by love & happiness in this one as well as the next ♡

[the-nocturnal-writer]

Evenfall Grove Dev Log 2

So real-life things have been kicking my ass, which was delaying everything I tried to do for the past few months. 🙃 A bit frustrating, but things have settled a little, so I hope everything will be back on track with my writing! 

Sorry for the lack of posting as well, like I said, lots of real-life shenanigans kept me offline and from being able to write. Now that I’m back, I’m going to finish designing the looks of some characters and as a bonus, I’m even going to draw concept pieces for certain locations in Evenfall (Like The Wolf Den)!

I plan to finish Ashborn up and get started on the second lot of romanceable characters- I shall reveal one name because I’m excited for them. 👀

ROWAN. Feral? Yes. Mysterious? Second to Heke. Overly calm about the chaos going on? Suspiciously so.

I won’t ramble on about it any longer, just happy to be back to things. I am, at least soon is the hope. Going to upgrade my equipment as well, while I’m grateful for my little Chromebook pushing through hell to work for me, I’d like to get a laptop I can actually use the software I need on, I’ve figured out ways on chrome to do it, it’s just not making my job easier. So, here’s to hoping I can save up soon (some are recommending opening commissions, but I’m still not sure…)

I have been brainstorming when I can! I had so many ideas I needed to get out, some not even relating to Evenfall (later projects for future Sin to enjoy). I’ll share some of my thoughts, but not all of them, don’t wanna spoil some stuff.

So I wanted to develop the MC’s background a little to better mix it in with the main storyline. It has a lot to do with their parents (who are deceased long before the events of Evenfall Grove). Basically, my brain needed a giant dose of ‘You have more to do with things happening then you think’, my favourite flavour of story. Yum. 

Another idea was only if going down Heke’s route, well it’s still present as a fact, but it’s only really touched on if the MC romanced Heke… Which will be very interesting to write (Painful too, but I think it will be worth it.)

Those are the two I can share without revealing and spoiling too much. Plus! I’ve got to get myself back into gear and catch up on everything.

Thank you so much, all of you! Thank you for being so patient while I get things in order and to new readers- Hello and thank you for your interest in Evenfall Grove! I hope to not disappoint… 🥺

Remember to hydrate, eat your meals and take medicine (if you take any)!

~ Red

[jilyawards]

Before we begin...

Hello everyone! 

Thank you all for your comments and asks since the announcement that I was taking over. I know that was a bit of a surprise, but I’m so happy to see that the majority of responses were positive still. 

I offered to take over because I believe that what this account does–celebrating our community–is a good thing that should continue. It’s a wonderful way to recognize the great Jily work that has been happening in the past year, and to bring to light fics that may not have otherwise reached everyone. 

However, I want to make a few things clear, and that is the purpose of this post. Please know that this, with these rules in place, is a last chance for these awards. Without the below boundaries, these awards will not be happening. 

I promise that, after this, we’ll get back to Jily awards and celebrating the crazy idiots we all love. 

Dark Jily will not be permitted in this year’s awards.

This decision is final. I understand that some of you will not appreciate this, but that is not going to change my mind. Any asks or comments about this will be deleted, and if you persist in doing so, you will be blocked from this account. There are no exceptions to this. On that note… 

For now, anonymous asks are on.

If this feature is abused, I will turn it off. I know that I am anonymous, and I want to give you the chance to speak to me anonymously as well. However, if it is used just to harass me and the awards, the feature will be turned off. 

I will not reveal who I am.

Again, I know that some of you are not happy about this decision, but please know it is in direct response to the private, pointed harassment that previous hosts received because their names were attached. If this means you do not want to participate, then feel free to drop me an ask stating such, and I will remove any creations of yours from nomination. 

I will, however, do everything I can to be transparent about the voting and the results, and I will not manipulate the results without telling you exactly what and why I did it. Right now, that manipulation will only be to remove any nominations that contain Dark Jily or creators who have asked to be excluded. Beyond that, I will not change anything about the results without giving you further notice. 

I understand that this requires you to trust someone you cannot see, but I hope to gain your trust as we go through this process. 

I do not have, nor do I want, your private information.

This was a common ask that I’ve received in the past few days, and I want to assure you that I do not have your private information. None of the documentation that was passed to me contains any email addresses or other private information from past voting or nominations. The most I have is your usernames, which are presumably the same you use on Tumblr 

Additionally, while some Google forms make you sign in with your email to answer the form, Google does not provide that information to form owners unless the information is directly collected. It was not in prior years, or at the very least, it does not exist in these forms. If you’re concerned about this point, I encourage you to create a form and fill it out yourself so you can see exactly what information in collected. 

Further, I’m not collecting that information this year. In fact, I don’t intend to use Google forms at all. Based on some friendly recommendation, I’ve created forms using Airtable, which do not require you to log in in order to participate. There will be some extra requirements for voting to make sure that it is fair, but I’ll provide more information on that later on. 

With that said… let’s get this ball rolling!

I’ll post the nomination forms in approximately 12 hours. Keep an eye out for them, and I can’t wait to see what you do with it. 

💞Ava

[yyumemika]

Ougonten: Registry of Dragons Part One

Registry of Dragons: Part One 

Winter 

Mika: Oof… Phew… Thanks a bunch, Shiratori-kun. Fer now let’s take a lil breather right here. 

Aira: Good idea. This luggage is surprisingly big so I’m a little tired. 

Mika: Sorry, I don’t mean t’ trouble ya like this. 

I thought I could take home all ma personal belongings from the handicrafts club before I graduate, but it’s a lot more than I expected. 

Aira: No it's okay, I have some free time anyway. Rather, Kagehira-senpai’s treasured works of art really are a sight to see! 

Besides, since we came back together I got to hear a lot about the inside story of “Machina”. 

For an idol otaku, I couldn’t have been happier♪ I’m completely satisfied! 

Mika: I feel better when ya say stuff like that. I feel bad that I can’t do anythin’ t’ thank ya fer helping me out though… 

Aira: I could talk to Kagehira-senpai about “Machina”, I’ve already received more than enough thanks! 

I’m still overwhelmed just remembering that wonderful universe… 

Mika: Ahaha.Don’t praise me so much. I feel like yer gettin’ carried away, especially since it’s about me. 

Aira: No way! From my point of view, I can’t say enough. 

That’s right! The “Machina” live was great, but the “test world” before that was just as amazing. 

Mika: Eh!? S-Shiratori-kun, Ya know about the “test world”!?

It’s just that, ya shouldn’t know unless ya were logged into the virtual world. 

Aira: Ah, I didn’t see it firsthand! I saw a video. 

Someone who recorded the event posted it via SNS. 

I was so frustrated when I found the video. I wondered why I couldn’t watch Valkyrie’s heroic image firsthand. 

Itsuki-senpai and Kagehira-senpai’s image at the time… Even remembering it now I can’t help but start to cry.

The two of you were truly like Gods, looking down on everyone from the heavens to stop the end of the world! 

Kagehira-senpai’s innocence of saying “Art is an explosion!” While making money rain down like water was another highlight! 

Mika: I-It’s gone viral!? 

Aira: Yep! I watched it so much I thought I was gonna burn a hole in my smartphone! 

Mika: Don’t look at me like that! I think yer really gettin’ carried away there! 

Uh… I guess I really overdid it by scatterin’ that money. This is my usual punishment. 

Aira: No way, really it was a good thing, wasn't it? 

I love Kagehira-senpai in that scene so much, I couldn’t help but share my thoughts on SNS. 

Kagehira-senpai’s image at the time was really sparkling, like money– 

Mitsuru: (Tiny voice) Mikanii-chan should be in this room. I’ll sneak in and investigate… 

Mika: Ah, Mitsuru-kun. Welcome back~ What’re ya doin’ sneakin’ around? 

Mitsuru: Uwah!? Mikanii-chan, were you still in the doorway? 

Aira: Ah, sorry! Come to think of it, we've been chatting in the doorway this whole time. 

Mika: Nnah~ We’re gettin’ in the way of people who wanna come in later. Sorry, Mitsuru-kun. Ya surprised me. 

Mitsuru: I-It’s fine! I’m going back to my own room now, so you two just have fun chatting here~!  

Mika: Eh, Mitsuru-kun!? 

…He’s already gone. He came t’ this room, so I wonder if he had some kinda business t’ take care of. 

Maybe I said somethin’ t’ hurt Mitsuru-kun’s feelin’s 

Aira: Hmm… Didn’t he seem a bit too jumpy? 

In any case, it’s not good for us to keep standing here. We’re gonna end up jumpscaring anyone else who wants to come in, just like Tenma-senpai. 

Mika: Yup. And I gotta bring all this luggage up to ma own room. 

Aira: That’s right… But first, let’s relax a little and have some tea. Even after that it won’t be too late to carry your luggage. 

Besides, I wanna talk to Kagehira-senpai a little more! 

Mika: Right. In that case let’s get some nice hot tea brewin’♪

Mitsuru: Phew… That was close. I almost got caught by Mikanii-chan. 

But, I still got to know more about Mikanii-chan! I better jot this down real quick. 

“Mikanii-chan was a nice God who liked to stand and talk with his friends” 

Hmm… I guess this alone still isn't enough~ 

Al~right. I’ll find out even more about Mikanii-chan’s Godly qualities! 

[sen-no-kotowari]

PGR Kamui Activation Day 2023 Mail

Today's gonna be a back-to-back activation day memoir posts! That's right, it's Kamui's and Camu's! Much like how the players received their in-game mail, I'll also be posting Camu's later so look forward to that! For now, I'll be posting Kamui's first off!

You can read more of his activation day mail on the cut below (≧▽≦)

Incoming Mission, Ready for Duty!

It’s been so long, Commander! Contacting you like this feels really strange! What’s this kinda thing called again? Was it “e-mailing?” Like waiting for your reply is just so cool! ―wait, no, this ain’t the time for that! I was about to tell you that I got assigned on a solo mission to support you, and Cap’n strangely gave me the okay for it! Just thinking about fighting with you together is exciting! I’m excited as heck! I’m so glad that I’ll be able to spend time together, no matter what kind of mission we are gonna do! Probably by the time you receive this email, I think I’m on my way towards the mission area! I’ll show you how much I’ve improved! See you later! From: Kamui’s Mail―Part 1

SOO Fricking Happy!

So today’s “mission” is my activation day surprise party, huh! I thought that there was something fishy about that, but I didn’t expect this kind of surprise! More importantly, the activation day gift from you all! I’ve always wanted this, but how did you guys know!? Did somebody look at my browsing logs? Was it the Cap’n? Nah, maybe it’s Wanshi? Or… was it actually you, Commander!? I totally won’t forget today, ever! Speaking of which, did you also prepare something for Camu? I’m curious what kinda reaction he will have! Oops, I almost forgot! I also have a present for you, Commander! I didn’t make this, but it’s part of my precious collection… Tah-dah! It’s a hero’s greatsword! Isn’t it cool!? I’ve always wanted to give it to you for the longest time, but the timing wasn’t good every time… I’m glad I’ve finally handed it over to you~! Structures like us are kinda like heroes on the battlefield all around the world, but you’re also a hero, y’know. You always have our backs whenever we’re fighting. That’s why we’re able to safely walk towards the future together. Awww man~~~! It’s kinda embarrassing to say it like this here, but thanks for everything you do! Not just for today’s big surprise, but for also protecting this world, for always watching out for us. Thanks a bunch! From: Kamui’s Mail―Part 2

[inamindfarfaraway]

Somewhere Down There (Angel Courtney Reprise)

*Written Before Season Two! Did NOT Age Well*

[I wrote the song idea I had in this post. Basically, at some point later in the show Courtney is in heaven, having recently learned she’s a fallen angel - one that has just redeemed herself to get her place restored, or at least is close to getting there. Therefore she’s being reaccepted into angel society. This causes a huge identity crisis and dregs up and amplifies all her old issues about belonging. She also simply doesn’t want to live in heaven because she’s found home, friendship, even a form of family in Phoenix Park on Earth. However, given that heaven is meant to be eternal happiness and security, it’s kinda generally impossible to leave to stop good people ending up in a less perfect or dangerous lower realm where they could be unhappy or get hurt. Even if you technically can, the system is very much not designed to accommodate for inhabitants, let alone actual angels, who don’t want to be there. It’s literal heaven! Why would that situation ever even occur, right?

So Courtney’s stuck. On her own (maybe her mortal friends weren’t summoned up with her, or maybe the heavenly authorities saw that keeping them there wasn’t right since they had more time on Earth and sent them back down). And feeling Big Emotions. What better way to express this than a reprise of her “I Want” song about yearning to be in her true place with the people who will understand and love her? Except now the titular plane is the one she formerly considered her prison. Bonus: for the visuals, I’m imagining heaven’s magic can manifest your greatest desires around you. Meaning Courtney surrounds herself with the theme park and Barney, Norma, Pugsley, Logs and Badyah as she sings, but it’s all fake and just makes her feel worse. Then in the last line everything she’s conjured up disappears, leaving her truly alone.]

Courtney: Well, the pillars I’ve built my whole life on

Are sand and they’re washing away

All that’s left is me and this sick parody

Of a happy ending today

So it turns out I’m one of the angels

And they say this is where I belong

But even in spite of all that’s not right

I know one thing can’t be wrong

Down where it’s blue skies, rivers and oceans

Humans and so many emotions

That spiral and swarm

Then make you feel warm

Somewhere down there

Both angel and demon or neither

Something else adrift in between

I guess I’m not who I just learned to love

Guess really I never have been

Seems whatever I am, I’m a failure

Either way, I’ll pass on paradise

No thanks, not for me, I got places to be

And the faces that made me think twice

Down where the vices are mixed up with virtues

Where all that matters to them’s the path I choose

And still set in stone

Is that I’m not alone

Somewhere down there