#gorilla presentation

[buntress]

[IDs in alt text]

❝ Giraffe // Moose ❞

[PT :: Giraffe // Moose]

Giraffe :: A presentation term for zoochord individuals who are tall, lanky, and may seem unsettling to others. Moose :: A presentation term for zoochord individuals who are tall, muscular, and may seem unsettling to others.

[IDs in alt text]

❝ Gorilla // Wallaby ❞

[PT :: Gorilla // Wallaby]

Gorilla :: A presentation term for zoochord individuals who are average height, muscular, and may seem unsettling to others. Wallaby :: A presentation term for zoochord individuals who are short, muscular, and may seem unsettling to others.

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Notes :: Finally doing something with Zoochosis, woohoo \o/

Archive Tagging :: @radiomogai @horrormogai @presentationflag-archive

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Taglist :: @genderdenied @mimiscoiningcafe @discrophy @horrgores @smilepilled

[redlettermediathings]

[mulders-too-large-shirt]

s5 episode 19 "folie a deux" thoughts

last night’s episode had me singing. clapping my hands together and rejoicing. doing a little twirl, even. so i wonder where we will go from here? 

if i may be so bold as to venture a guess: i would say a two parter leaving on a cliff hanger that is resolved by the movie? 

hmm. i would be happy to be wrong, but we shall see.

post episode thoughts: i think i need to ponder this one for a few months and get back to you. there were things i liked, and other things that frustrated me, which i ended up spending quite a bit of time analyzing. still, i do not mean to be a total hater; my heart was melting at the hospital scene!!!

anyway, back to me from yesterday!

let's read the episode description... mulder is taken hostage?!?! oh, is scully going to go berserk? i am willing to see this. HOWEVER, i would prefer if my boy was left unharmed. maybe the captor will be polite. his poor finger probably still hurts!!!

but, a mulder kidnapping arc is good for me, because i believe being a damsel in distress ought to be a gender neutral role. so let’s see what we have going on

(and the episode is called folie a deux… shoutout to the best fall out boy album)

what if your job was to type into a blocky white computer and call people all day? this could be you, but it is the case for this man, named gary.

he is talking to an uninterested man about siding, and then auto calling someone else. i know these callers well. they plague my job.

an insect is here too, but we don’t have to worry about that. surely the sound design team did not put that in there purposefully for me to notice /s

gary is nervous as he makes another call and hears more insects. i don’t like this. wait, have i seen things about this episode before….?

BUG GUY???? 

gary is shaking with fear. WHAT IS HERE? the bug guy?!?! 

(loud cheering as the intro plays)

short intro….. i clock thee once again

skinner time!!! my heart rejoices at this. why does he have multiple globes in his office? and some books and what looks like trophies under his bill clinton portrait. i wonder if he plays around with them. 

agents mulder and scully are here!!!

uh oh… are they in trouble?!?!

they need to go to chicago to conduct a threat assessment. mulder wants to know why them. “because i prefer you did” <- ohhh yeah, give him the “i told you so” reasoning, skinner 🔥🔥

BAHAHA mulder picks up that the manifesto has “bizarre undertones” right away, which i think is a great way of describing something. and it speaks of a monster stalking employees!! augh. i hope the monster at least allows the workers their legally required breaks. 

(scully looks frustrated)

(mulder nods) "monsters. i’m your boy" <- LMAOOOOO STOPPPPPP WHY IS HE LIKE THIS I’M CRYINGGGG

he’s angry!!! he thinks skinner is mad at him 

“have i finally reached that magic point in my career where every time somebody sees bigfoot or the virgin mary on a tortilla, i get called out of my basement ward to offer my special insight on the matter?” <- oh. oh. i’m laughing, but i do feel a little bad. yeah buddy. that is kind of how you make a living. said with kindness though.

(i know he wants to genuinely know the Truth and find the answers and save his loved ones and learn the mystical secrets of the universe, and that there is angst in this genuine belief being misconstrued as the bigfoot guy, but you can see why such a mistake could get made when he is. you know. the way he is)

“you’re saying i a lot. i heard we” <- YEAHHH SCULLY! GET HIM!!!!!

(augh. and this plot once again fell victim to too much mulder saying i and not enough mulder saying we. probably my biggest complaint with this whole show)

she doesn’t think this case will be a waste of their time, but he says it won’t waste hers, because he will just go by himself! and he’s all pouty as he stalks off, leaving her looking confused. come on, monster boy. stop being emo.

oh, you know the episode is gonna hit when it says written by vince gilligan. i think? he’s the shippy guy, right? i normally don’t pay attention to these things, but people in the comments point out the writers, and he is spoken of positively 

(i googled his name to make sure i was spelling it right, and it turns out he also wrote breaking bad and better call saul. wow! that is a man with some serious credentials!)

so mulder takes off to chicago all by himself to listen to the taped manifesto at the vinyl shop call ceneter. it was sent to the local radio station with the instructions to play it over and over 24 hours a day. the subtitles allow me to know that this is the voice of gary, warning of an evil monster who hides in the light. mulder looks very very bored. 

the boss guy says he’s conducting his own internal investigation, which leads me to believe that he is the bug beast.

not even TWO STEPS OUT THE DOORWAY of that guy’s office and he’s calling scully LMAOOOOO I AM CRYINGGGGG... they cannot be separated or disaster ensues!!! 

he wants her to check on the phrase “hiding in the light”. OH she swivels around at their desk :,) her at the desk makes me so happy!

he recognizes it from an old file!!! “which one? there’s hundreds” “i’m not sure, but i appreciate it” <- AWWW poor scully has to go through 8 million x files looking for a phrase… deep scully sigh as she resigns herself to the glamorous field of archival work. at least he said he appreciated her hard work.

gary sees mulder here and is watching him…. and gary sees his coworkers being called in to talk with the manager. he tells nancy not to go in there!!! “gary, i love you buddy, but you’re really, really weird” damn nancy, get him again lmao

and gary sees the boss go bug mode!! and hears her screaming!! he’s crying while the other manager guy tells him to dial and smile!!

bro is having a complete breakdown… nancy returns to her desk looking like a zombie????? at least to gary. to the camera, she looks pretty normal. things are unclear, narrative-wise.

pretty mulder is listening to the manifesto and taking notes; he has this sort of loopy handwriting i really like. it's a little messy. and he’s written down and then crossed out "obsessive compulsive disorder". “formality of phrasing: desire for authority - to be taken seriously” YEAHHH GO MONSTER BOY GO🔥DO THAT PSYCHOANALYSIS YOU LOVE SO MUCH

meanwhile, gary is gathering ammunition and loading a gun!!!! oh my god????

scully calls!!! she found the phrase and who said it and when and where!!! again, you really cannot out-research her. back in 1992 in florida, a deacon was worried about evil in his church and then showed up and shot people. oh god. and he said “the afflicted ones won’t bleed” hey that’s horrific 

“scully, at the risk of you telling me i told you so, i think it’s time for you to get down here and help me” “i told you so”, she says, smiling <3 

AUGHHHH i need to scream into my hands for a moment

okay. i'm better now. that was just so damn cute.

mulder shows up the next day at the vinyl office place, but it’s empty!!! nancy says to get down��� gary points a gun at him!!!! 

scully is pulling in to the parking lot while swarms of police and helicopters are everywhere…. scully introduces herself as agent mulder’s partner. the local FBI team doesn't have any updates on what is going on inside!!!!! 

they want to call him and she says NO. it could put him in danger. this other dude is being condescending to her and she again says NO. we need to find another way. so take that.

oh my god??? inside, gary is making some guy tie everyone up and kneel with their hands behind their heads?? he says the boss is who they should be afraid of and to shut up and stop crying. gary. bro. this is not a good look.

and he says he’s not talking to the people who aren’t human, referring to the first three people the boss took in his office…

mulder is coming in to save the day!!! he asks very calmly why they should be afraid of mr. pincus, claiming that he is here to apply for a job. i can only hope that i could be as calm as him in a hostage situation.

gary says that mr. pincus is a monster who will harvest their souls and turn them into zombies. okay. like in a corporate way or a literal way?

mulder’s slowly moving to grab his gun when gary looks away….

he says everyone needs to hold their breath, and as the local FBI team tries to break in, gary fires at the ceiling!!! maybe he’ll use up all his ammo???? and then mulder can attack???

WHY IS NO ONE LISTENING TO SCULLY WHEN SHE SAYS NOT TO CALL HIM???? Y’ALL ARE PISSING ME OFF!!!!

so of course his phone goes off when these fools call him, gary sees mulder’s gun, and they lose their ONE SHOT OF SAFETY, and gary slaps mulder across the face and SHOOTS AT SOME GUY WHO DARED TO MOVE OH MY GODDDD YOU BITCHES WHO DON’T LISTEN TO SCULLY ALL ARE GOING TO HELL!!!!!!!!

and gary finds mulder's FBI badge…. he picks up the phone and says he shot a zombie, but didn’t kill him. because he was already dead.

he says he will start killing actual people if they don’t get him on the TV!!!

scully says PUT HIM ON THE TV!!! WE DO NOT HAVE TIME FOR THIS NONSENSE!!!

can they maybe film him and pretend to get it on the TV, and just get it on the local channel so it only broadcasts to the office TV or something????

gary. bro. i’m scared.

mulder tries to remind gary that the guy he killed was a man, but gary says it was a zombie. and that the boss wants to turn them all into drones.

mr. pincus asks a great question: if he is the monster, what does he need all of these people for?? he says to just wait until they put him on the TV.

when they call mulder's cell again, gary answers the phone with “dial and smile” ohhh…. this is truly a man who has had enough of his job

so they’re sending the camera people in…. and scully sees that gary is holding mulder at gunpoint!!!

ohh, they *are* doing a closed circuit broadcast, so gary sees himself on the office TV and no one else will be subjected to him!!! yeah, shoutout to technology.

the cameraman pretends some wires are twisted, which allows the FBI team to see that the wall is clear…. and mulder is forced to lay down…. and now gary’s addressing “the people”

mr. pincus is being held at gunpoint…. and mulder gets in the way… gary’s screaming and screaming at mulder to get him out of the way, but he won’t do it… and scully is WATCHING ALL OF THIS THROUGH THE CAMERA FEED… WHICH IS SO CRAZY

he hears the buzzing again…. and the lights are out…

does mulder see the bug man too?? or is it all in gary’s mind????

the FBI team enters and someone shoots gary. mulder is splattered with blood, but he is looking at mr. pincus suspiciously…… 

GARY WHISPERS “now you know” to him as he lay dying…

HOLY HELL?????????????

what. hey guys! what’s up? what is going on here.

poor pensive mulder is looking off at mr. pincus. “you look exhausted”, says scully, which he instantly denies. and oh, he’s going to talk to him. 

mr. pincus thanks him for saving his life. but mulder is in questioning mode. so mr. pincus had been, at some point, at the other plant where the incident went down a few years earlier, and had been to florida, where the x file case that scully had dug up in the files earlier was. bug guy… real??

scully is very confused. “what’s going on?” she asks softly, and he says he doesn’t know. ohhhh :( he sounded so lost :(

back to washington dc, where mulder is drawing lines on maps. with his poor busted lip and his poor busted finger. someone get him an ice pack

scully is shocked to see him! “mulder, why didn’t you take the day off?” he looks CRAZY and tells her to close the door. 

oh, what must be going through her mind right now…?

he found the phrase “hiding in the light” or variations of it in 5 other x files, but the variations he lists seem pretty different to me. all the other cases were people who said evil was right in front of them but no one else could see it. which seems like a pretty typical x file trope. i'm not sure if he's onto anything here.

she asks what we are all thinking: have you slept? he disregards this and keeps going. 

all of the cases with the phrase variations date back ten years, and that is how long pincus has worked for the vinyl company… hmm…

bro is still in his bloody shirt while trying to convince scully that perhaps a human bug creature could hypnotize its prey into not being visible. please get this man some clean clothes. it is not good to sit around covered in the blood of both yourself and others.

scully does not want to play along with gary's delusions or give them any credit. good for her!

“he was mentally ill. this monster was-was a sick fantasy, a product of his dementia”

(angry mulder nods) “i saw it, too.” (surprised scully face) “does that make me disturbed? demented? does that make me sick, too?” 

ohhhh, there is panic in scully, i am sure, but she is good at not showing it. 

(deep sigh) “no. no, this kind of thing is not uncommon. you… you went through a terrible ordeal, and sometimes people in close associations, under tense conditions, uh, the delusions of one can be passed onto the other” <- ohhhh scully… she is trying so hard to be kind and scientific and to support how he feels without fueling any harmful beliefs. it's a very careful dance.

he is furious though, insisting it’s not a delusion ("it's not folie a deux", he insists in the most american sounding way possible), and i can’t help but think about how his insistence on the existence of bug man fits in with his earlier disgust at being seen as the monster boy. well. you can see how these things happen when we wind up in this sort of situation.

he wants to prove that the people gary pointed out as not human really were turned into zombies somehow… maybe they can give them a checkup under the guise of “damn, y’all just went through some wild stuff”, but all i can think about is getting that man a fresh shirt and a nice long shower. can we give them a check up when you’re clean? please? thank you. bloodborne pathogens are scary.

scully refuses to autopsy the body- saying she won’t feed into the delusions- and he says he’ll prove it without her and storms off. 

she must be so worried about him...... he's clearly not himself

oh shoot… he goes to gary’s place and finds the same map tracking pincus that he had made!!! and then mulder sees a zombified nancy outside!!! he’s running off, but the guy he's with doesn’t see anyone!!!!

now she’s driving off with pincus… where are they going???

scully is here to talk to skinner. he wants to know: why is mulder being weird? 

AND WHY DID HE GET HER SCHEDULED TO DO AN AUTOPSY AFTER SHE SAID NO???? skinner KNOWS something is up and asks if there’s something she wants to tell him. she says “no, sir” and walks away, leaving him behind, confused

okay. so i feel like plotwise, i’m going to be annoyed if mulder is right, because he is acting really wild, and i get that it’s an intense situation, but you need to respect your partner. and listen to her and not make her do things that she refused to do. if he is behaving like he is having a break in his sanity, and scully is treating him with the care that this sort of situation affords, but then it turns out he was the only one clever enough to see the truth for the billionth time, making scully the scorned skeptic... well, it gets old after 5 seasons.

and we know that while he is often right about things, he is also incredibly prone to believing, and this can take him to self-destructive lengths, such as letting a guy put k in your brain until scully has to throw herself on him like a weighted blanket so he doesn't end things permanently. so. i don’t always trust his judgement.

but maybe she’s thinking, if i just autopsy the damn guy, we can get this over with.

all that being said: skinner’s confused face is so funny, lmao

scully does not want to do an autopsy. she’s outsourced it to someone else! i appreciate her sticking to her guns.

she’s trying to call mulder, but the guy doing the autopsy says it looks like the shooting victim has been dead for 2-3 days… and she says no, he died yesterday. HMM. weird. you can see the realization on her face…. something weird is going on here. but is it as strange as mulder claims?

pincus is going… somewhere. well, you better believe mulder is tailing him. hard for a guy that tall to be stealthy. 

he moves the picnic table to look into the window of this house, and he sees the bug guys!!! then he breaks in, seeing an eyeless woman and a bug guy crawling behind him!!! breaking and entering... not a good look

the CGI is killing me lmao. bro is leaning out the window. LMAO WHAT THE HELL I’M HOWLING LOOK AT THE BUG GUY SCURRYING AWAY BAHAHAAAAAAAAAA 

we need to appreciate this for a moment. crazed mulder breaking into some rando's house and shooting at the human-sized bug.

bug guy jumps off of the roof!!!

skinner is listening to the woman whose house he broke into testify… she says she felt a presence creeping towards her… and then this madman was in her house (pan to mulder) uh oh!!! one of many times mulder could have been fired, tbh!!!

she says he was screaming about monsters more than gary!! and then she leaves saying he shouldn’t carry a gun!!!

oh, mulder... what are we going to do with you?

pincus stays behind… oh, skinner is going to go nuclear on mulder if he opens his mouth to call him a monster one more time… poor skinner…….. pincus says he still considers mulder a hero for helping with the hostage situation, which is why he wants to handle this privately

LMAOOOO WAIT MULDER YELLED MORE AND NOW SKINNER IS SCREAMING AT HIM AND MULDER SEES PINCUS TURN INTO BUG MAN RIGHT BEHIND HIM!!!!!!!!! HOLD ONNNN IT’S NOT SUPPOSED TO BE FUNNY BUT IT LOOKS SO SILLY I CANNOT HELP BUT LAUGH

skinner has to pin him down after he pulls out his gun!!!! oh my god!! he is gonna get fired for real!!!

(funny how often skinner and mulder come to physical blows. i just think it's neat)

mulder is in the hospital in chicago, and scully slips her hand into his (stop. i’ll cry. hey i’ll cry) and he says “five years together, scully. you must have seen this coming” <- HEY IS HE GETTING FIRED FOR REAL?? or just announcing the formal loss of his sanity?!

she says they more or less found what they thought they would find in the body… it looked more decomposed than it ought to have… but that really isn't unusual

oh, look how pained she looks as she listens to him try and explain the monster. he says pincus bit the lady whose house he broke into's neck. now is this a bug or a vampire? i guess those two categories have some commonality

she says the case is closed, and she only has hope he can see past this delusion AUGHHHH

i am imagining being scully in this situation and how much it would hurt to see your bestie and partner like this.......

“you have to be willing to see” “i wish it were that simple” “scully, you have to believe me. nobody else on this whole damn planet does or ever will” OUGHHHHHHHHH

:( :( :( monster boy......

“you’re my… one in five billion” OHHH. HE SAID THE THING. THE BLOGS QUOTE HIM SAYING THE THING ALL THE TIME. AND HE SAID IT!!! AND MY HEART DID A FLIP.

look at her looking at him……

that feeling when your bestie is out of his mind, begging you to believe in the bug men, and he says you're his soul mate.......... yeah.

back to autopsy land. this other dude is very confused as to why she wants to flip him over. AUGH. bites! bug bites!

she is shaving the dead body's head. which is not something i ever thought you had to do, but here we are. she shaves that dead body like a pro. and AUGH. more bites. 

poor mulder is being restrained and shot up with stuff :( our pathetic man is suffering…….. 

he hears insects!!! did they bite him too???

NOOO!!! he sees the insect!! he’s screaming for the nurse!!!

he sounds absolutely wild as he tries to convince her there’s something at the window, and for her to let him go. oh, she opens the window…. is there something on her neck……. it looked like... juice?? gag.

he hears more insects…. i think it’s coming in his room?? it’s climbing on the wall?? 

OH SHIT!! the nurse is not letting scully in!!! and she sees her as a zombie, too???

SCULLY PARANORMAL MOMENT?!?!

OH, SHE BURSTS INTO HIS ROOM AS HE’S SCREAMING, AND SHOOTS THE BUG MAN!!!!

she’s looking at the window like wtf… am i going to have to pay to get that fixed…? and also was that really a bug man...? a lot of important questions are being communicated despite the lack of works

while he’s still fighting his restraints…

cut to a baffled skinner. “agent scully, i have to say, i’m at a bit of a loss here” LMAOOOO me too girl

“do i infer correctly from this that you believe there’s some… merit to agent mulder’s claims?”

(god, i typed "clams" at first. i wish there was merit to his clams)

this is shocking, but not unheard of. listen! scully just wants answers, okay? and sometimes they lie in the category of science yet to be explained.

(long scully pause) “i believe that agent mulder is mentally sound and fit for duty. aside from that belief, i can only present to you the few hard facts that i've been able to gather” <- queen of giving a measured response in a purple suit 

oh shoot!! there was a toxin in the spine of the shooting victim!! and pincus is gone without a trace, with 6 other key witnesses!! including the nurse!!!

skinner wants to know what the intruder looks like… she deflects that it was dark. that is all we hear her say, even though i wouldhave loved to know how that conversation ended.

scully and mulder reunite as they enter an elevator. “what did you tell him?”, he asks her. “the truth… as well as i understand it” ��which is?” (long scully pause) “folie a deux… a madness shared by two”

hey. why does it sound like she knows french when she said that? because i know that mulder took french, but he said it as american as possible. however, she took german and said that pretty darn well. 

blushing a little.

AUGH, and a new company for WINDOWS has insect noises going on at the call center!!!

and so, the monsters continue to spread, ready at any moment to end humanity; a typical ending to an episode.

well. what did i think of this one?

hmm. i’m not sure. i was hoping mulder was going off the deep end rather than him being the most specialist boy of all who can once again see what the rest of the world cannot. he’s right too often, and we end up in the same situation where scully refuses to listen to his theories on account of the fact that he sounds crazy, and then he lowkey bullies her into doing what he asks rather than always considering her input, and then he ends up being right.

someone once got mad on one of my posts and said scully hates mulder (lmao. can you imagine?) because she never believes him even though he tends to be right. and buddy, i cannot really accept that as valid criticism, even beyond the whole point of the show being that yeah, they don't see eye to eye on supernatural matters. that is the most watsonian explanation to an incredibly clear doylist pattern, which is that mulder is the most special boy of all in this show and he knows all of the things and everyone else is a mere fool. this pattern annoys me greatly.

i just think it's funny (said with sarcasm) that someone would take the watsonian, in-universe explanation that hates on the woman character rather than acknowledge the fact that the writers clearly had a bias between the two. lmao.

and yeah. there are elements of both. scully is both purposefully written as stubborn in the face of his outlandish theories due to her loyalty to science as an element of her character, AND purposefully written as the one who naively refuses to believe mulder as some sort of audience proxy, because augh, that woman, she just won't believe our most special gifted genius agent mulder!

you can see how those two things work together, but one is clearly the result of the other. character decisions come from writers who often have their own biases and agendas rather than out of some mysterious creative ether from which a character emerges fully formed.

and poor skinner, trying to deal with mulder's often violent impulses. 

i think it’s very interesting that scully believes herself and him to be victims of a shared madness. it’s the most logical belief for her to have, but it also places this kind of… like, concerning element to them being together. is everything they have experienced a shared madness? or just this after the trauma of him being held hostage? how can you trust your memory? how can you trust what you see? 

i also think it’s very interesting how she refuses to feed his delusions at all when he proposed the idea. she would not do the autopsy. and from his psych training standpoint, i imagine that he knew she would say that, but was still hoping against hope because he was so out of his right mindset. she stuck to what she believed would help him recover, which is really admirable and doctor-y of her.

god, her slipping her hand into his as he’s in the hospital…

see, this is the problem with this show. it’s got me philosophizing on the meaning of the bug men. first of all, if they’re the ones in charge of call centers, i’m not really that surprised. corporate work turns you into a zombie; you don’t have time for passions or pursuits of your own, you just work for the shareholder. i get that interpretation. 

but other than that, what are we to think of the bug men? are we to call into question the things that we see? are we to believe the manifestos and ramblings of people like gary? 

i’m going to probably just assume it was a sort of “wouldn’t it be fucked up if…” situation the writers concocted. yeah it *would* be fucked up if there were bug guys in the call center taking over america through ceaseless barrages of advertising. you've got me there, vince.

my feelings on mulder’s behavior are complicated. maybe it was a shared madness between them *and* there were some shady bug things going on. him sitting there still the day after the hostage situation, having gotten no sleep, still in his bloody shirt, drawing lines on the map… i mean, he did not seem well, even for a guy famed for his bouts of obsessive focus. 

i am going to think on this one for a bit. perhaps a more coherent train of thought will arise. but for now, i have written a treatise on the nature of this show's frustrating parts while also highlighting the parts that made me giggle. like "i told you so" and scully's good french and mulder's terrible french and holding hands and undying love <3

[redacted-coiner]

Fox circle pixel please?

https://lgbtqia.wiki/wiki/Fox_(Masculine)

Red Fox , Dove , Fox

Lion , Pirate Presentation , Chubby Twink

Xenesthis , Sphynx , Female Gorilla (xxx)

DNI is listed within my pinned post. Please go read it before interacting with any part of my content. Ask to tag.

[c1trvswurld]

ik humanz is universally hated and labeled the worst Gorillaz album...but counter you guys just have the music taste of a monkey whose had their heads switched but their spinal cords were not intact in the 1970s

[lonely-moonshine-still]

Here's a look at an art doll iv been working on for the longest time.

He's halfway till being complete, just have to bust out the old sewing machine and make him some 1920s themed explorer clothes to finish him off!

He is fully posable, with his spine being made from ball and socet joints and his limbs and fingers being made from wire.

Every part of him is hand made :)

[last-flight-of-fancy]

getting ready to do conventions be like (panicked screaming)((all internally))(((because the adhd panic gorilla hasn't kicked in yet so instead i'm staring at the ceiling thinking about everything i have left to do)))

[dancing-coyote]

spark extractor :P

Spark Extractor: Choose violence! Which character would you offline?

THIS IS A DANGEROUS THING TO ASK, NATTY, THE LIST IS LONG.

Though as tempted as I would be to put Blackarachnia out of our collective misery...

NIGHTY-NIGHT, MEGS

[lonniemachin]

Arkham City: The Order of the World #3

'as abram i am.'

[shoechoe]

happy birthday!!

Thank you. I am having a good birthday

[kenpiercemedia]

CBGB & OMFUG Announces First-Ever "CBGB Festival" for September

The Press Release: CBGB & OMFUG – Home of Underground Rock lives on with the announcement of the CBGB Festival, presented in partnership with The Bowery Presents, taking place September 27 at Under the K Bridge Park in Brooklyn, NY. The one-day event features a stacked lineup of 21 generation-spanning bands across 3 raucous stages. Headlining the festival are Iggy Pop—his first NYC show in over a…

[rastronomicals]

6:10 PM EDT July 1, 2024:

Hammersmith Gorillas - "I Live In Style In Maida Vale" From the album Mojo Presents Glam Nuggets

Last song scrobbled from iTunes at Last.fm

Absolutely Free of Charge with Mojo # 344, July 2022

[bitchlessdino]

Good Roommates Don't (m)

for @ddeonghwa-s secret cupid collab i recieved you @haologram! Secret Cupid Masterlist found here!

Pairing: roommate! Minghao x barista!afab!reader Word count: 14.1k rating: R Summary: Xu Minghao had been the most ethereal being you've ever laid your eyes on to the point being unable of functioning like a normal person, but now you're roommates. Only time will tell when you lose your mind keeping your hands to yourself, so there needed to be a list of things you don't do if you wanted to be a good roommate. tags: meet-ugly, strangers to roommates to lovers, college au, barista au, down bad!reader, mentions of band, brief bdsm, mc fell first he fell harder, cum swapping, spitting, oral (giving and receiving), face riding, unprotected sex author note: thank you @lovetaroandtaemin and @gyubakeries beta-reading this with me. after writing towtsyfdtotbycf (holy shit) i was in a little bit of a slump and had several and i mean SEVERAL versions of this and for months racked my brain how i wanted to do this. Alta, i care for you deeply and we've gotten close in the last year or so, so i really wanted to write something that would amuse you and that you'd enjoy. and if you hate it you can use it as leverage to berate me on discord lol. but please, my valentine, enjoy my gift to you. happy Valentines day Alta (and tell me was i really not that slick) <3

When you first met Minghao, you almost killed him trying to save his life. At least, that's what you thought you were doing.

All you had to do was bear a normal shift at the Coffee Shop, attempt a semblance of a smile for the oncoming customers, and clock out at your normal hour, but the universe couldn’t even give you that. Instead, they sent you the hottest guy imaginable, along with the swiftness of a gazelle, the strength of a gorilla, and the intuition of a garden gnome. That day just confirmed that some things were better left alone.

A few things were already going wrong that day. For one, your alarm didn't go off. The alarm being your mom, who usually kicked you out of bed first thing at 9 am, since she had a doctor’s appointment. Fair enough. The strings of fate got you there. All the more reason why moving out seemed like a distant dream rather than a close reality. Were you really capable of being a functioning adult? 

Then there was the bus and having to shell out twenty bucks for a Lyft when the next scheduled bus was reported to have broken down and was no longer an option. That twenty bucks could’ve been your meal for the next week, but no, being fiscally responsible was a circus act, and you were the clown being pied in the face repeatedly. As if you weren’t already putting on a face and juggling multiple things enough on a daily basis, today was no different. 

And then, you were late to work—which again, was nothing new—but you were hoping that Nayeon, who was scheduled as the shift manager, let you off with a warning. Yet, somehow, that went wrong as well, seeing that the shittier manager on your shift, Manager Fi, was present instead. And, by the look in the old man's eyes, he wasn’t happy about it either, especially considering he assigned you bathroom duty for the end of your shift to make up for your tardiness. He never liked you since you started. Then again, he didn’t like anybody, and vice versa.

This morning was bad omen after bad omen.

Leading up to finally meeting Minghao—tall, scorchingly hot Minghao, with lips that looked soft as clouds. You hadn’t seen him around before until today, and perhaps it should’ve stayed that way, because you couldn’t see yourself facing him ever again.

He walked in with his large group of friends, all almost nearly as charming as him with a handful of faces that you’ve seen once or twice, but none that stood quite out like his. He had the kind of face that made you want to paint murals, write ballads, or stare long enough to linger too long over the same spot you were cleaning on the counter, windshield wiping until the wet streaks you wiped off devolved to discoloration and damaged the countertop’s cheap sealant. Eventually, you averted your gaze to conceal your flushed cheeks—turning away in clear embarrassment, thinking about how much of a fucking creep you probably looked overtly gawking at him—but you’d soon realized that was the least of your worries. You’d soon wish it ended with you looking like a creep.

The next moment you lifted your eyes towards him again, you found him in a compromising position, one that had you thinking—and that was your first mistake. His face twisted with discomfort, and he gasped as he covered his mouth. A million thoughts raced through your mind, considering all the possible reasons for his distress, and one screamed the loudest above all, setting off alarm bells. So you—being meddling and troublesome you—acted on instinct.

Hopping over the counter, you raced towards him, pulled him off the booth which he was luckily on the edge of, and immediately attempted the Heimlich. Finally, your CPR certification could be put to use. You embraced him from behind, putting pressure on his ribcage as you launched and thrust yourself against him, forcing whatever was lodged in his throat out of his body.

“I’ve got you!” you exclaimed heroically.

You put in as much strength as you could muster, truly hoping to save a life today, thinking out of all things that have gone wrong today, at least this would be one thing you’ve done right. You could feel your ancestors looking down on you to witness a proud moment in your otherwise boring and mundane life. 

After several rough collisions with his body, he eventually spat something chewed up and unsightly onto the booth’s table, drawing the attention of several onlookers if your boisterous shouting hadn’t already. His friends were quick to look away, wincing in disgust while the cute boy doubled over in pain, holding himself by the ribs as you ran your eyes over at him in concern.

“Are you alright, sir? That must’ve been terrifying to suffocate on something so suddenly.”

He then finally lifted his head. His cheeks were flushed as anguish took over his features. “I wasn’t choking,” He rasped.

“...Come again?”

“Oh my god!” A third-party witness stood up dramatically from their seat. “This barista just saved this young man’s life!”

Suddenly, you were punished with attention, cheers specifically. All except the people who sat at the cute boy’s table clapped for you—or, rather at you now—and gave you standing ovations for your grand heroic act, when in fact, it wasn’t heroic at all. Meanwhile, you attempted to settle them down, flapping your hands dismissively and growing hot all over. You looked over the man you so-called saved as he strained to sit back in his seat, being tended by the friends he came with.

“Dude, you okay?”

“Shit, that looked like it hurt.”

“You probably shouldn't have been drinking it that fast, Minghao.”

It turned out you had severely miscalculated the situation. What appeared to be choking, prompting you to improperly administer a rough but appropriate Heimlich maneuver, was simply a mildly exaggerated reaction to hot coffee followed by a muffin to alleviate his burnt taste buds. You, of course, profusely apologized, as if you weren’t embarrassed enough for staring at him the whole time working your entire shift at the coffee shop because he was the most breathtakingly stunning person you’ve ever seen in your life. You might’ve just about broken his ribs and made his life flash before his eyes by abruptly slamming your body against him repeatedly, and not in the fun way.

Rather than an apartment, you were in desperate need of a hole deep enough to lead you to the core of the Earth to hide you from everyone else on the crust, ideally with cheap rent and good air ventilation. 

You bowed your head in humiliation, unable to meet any of their eyes, especially with the possibility of them remembering your face with a lawsuit waiting to happen. “I can’t believe that happened, I am so sorry. If there’s anything I can do to make it up to you, please let me know.”

“It’s okay, really, but I think we’ve had enough excitement for today if you don’t mind.” 

The attractive stranger—or Minghao, as you’ve learned from his friends who immediately rushed to him in concern—shook his hand in the air reassuringly. “Just, no more of that, alright? Make sure someone’s actually choking before trying to save them.”

“Right, please have a wonderful rest of your day,” you said, before returning to your station and disappearing behind the breakroom, screaming into your cubby and avoiding human interaction for as long as you could.

That scene replayed in your mind over and over like a recurring nightmare, burning the image of his beautiful face with such disdain for all eternity, while his name etched into your brain in permanent ink, embedded in every wrinkle in your brain. Minghao. A devastatingly beautiful name for a devastatingly beautiful owner.

Ugh. Get a fucking grip.

You just needed to get through the rest of the day. It would just be a couple more hours until your shift ended, and then you’d leave on the dot. It’d be just in time to make your appointment to meet your new potential roommate. Hopefully, it would be the silver lining of today’s catastrophic mess.

You met on electronic class forums while attending the same Cultural Studies course and somehow ended up relying on each other for notes. By your chat history, you seemed to have a lot in common—with the exception of his preference for tea over artisanal coffee—and you’d be lying if you said you didn’t get giddy seeing the green circle next to his username. Recently, he had just talked about moving into town after pondering the idea for so long, and as fate may have it, you’ve been looking for your own place to stay. You figured he seemed nice enough, and he even offered a reasonable quote on rent. It wouldn’t hurt to take a look. You just hoped he was as friendly in real life as he was online—with the day you had, you needed a win.

And, that win started with Chinese food, his choice, and it was a good one. You hadn’t been at this location before, taking note of the old-fashioned aesthetic touched by the harshness of modern neon signs that lit even the darkest of hallways. You were now thinking you ought to come more often as the heavenly notes of soy, ginger, and whatever concoction bled through the kitchen curtains and wafted through your nostrils the moment you passed through the double doors. Immediately, you were greeted by the host, visibly tired and overworked, with dark circles under his eyes, before he led you to a table in the center of the restaurant. You settled your nerves with a glass of water, trying to let the horrific events from today fade to as black as the soy sauce loitering on your table, waiting for a plate of dumplings to accompany them.

Funny how you could still have an appetite after everything that happened.

It wasn’t too long after you heard the same doors you walked through open, setting off the familiar sound of its wind chimes. You peered behind you, catching a glimpse of the new arrival, and immediately spun back in your seat, startled by the face that passed through your eyes. Trepidation brewed within you as the unsolicited visitor had your stomach in knots. 

You couldn’t take another incident tonight. 

You slunk into your seat, burying your chin in your shirt, hoping you’d somehow camouflage into your seat, facing away from the new arrival. Meanwhile, his eyes skimmed the room, walking in with purpose without guidance and greeting the employees as if he were right at home. Fortunately, he had yet to notice your presence as you slinked out of view the moment he passed by you to sit at the bar, while you made way into a booth in the dark corner of the restaurant, cursing the fates for their cruel games once again. You just had hoped that your new roommate would hurry it up already so you could get out of here before you were discovered.

And after about ten minutes, it felt as if all hope was lost. There was no sign of them and you were wondering if you had been stood up. Amid your anticipation, you were forced to pay attention to the person you were avoiding, seeing his patience wear thin with the tap of his foot as he sipped the last of his iced tea. Not a moment too soon, you saw him pluck his phone out from his pocket, fingers skittering over the screen before bringing it to his ear and scanning the restaurant’s floor plan. In the same instant, your phone went off,  blaring your cursed ringtone, ‘Pocketful of Sunshine’, and the realization—along with the panic—quickly set in. 

Alerted by the noise, his head whipped up from his screen. His eyebrows rose in shock, not all expecting the outcome that arose, and he dropped to his feet and quickly darted toward the sound that you—for the life of you—could not turn off fast enough. His footsteps matched the rate of your heart pounding in your chest, growing louder and closer until he found the source and located you cowering in the corner.

You lifted your head to lock eyes for the first time since this morning just as you finally managed to silence the ringtone and gave him an awkward laugh, waving with your phone in hand. Taking a nervous gulp, you awaited his disappointment, expecting him to make his quick exit after evaluating in the two seconds of your meeting that this arrangement would not work out because you were a deranged psycho with a savior complex. To your pleasant surprise, that didn't happen. Instead, you were met with a gentle smile and a glint of curiosity in his eyes. “There you are.”

You forced a sheepish chuckle. “Here I am, ha.”

Minghao softly chuckled before tucking his phone in his back pocket. “And to think just this morning you ‘saved my life.’”

You shut your eyes tightly, hands pressing together as if begging for forgiveness. “Again I am so, so sorry for that. It did look like you were choking.”

He shook his head reassuringly. “So you’ve said. I’m Minghao, or PalE8. Nice to meet you, CafeMixr0.”

“Is it…nice to meet me?” You asked dubiously.

“Why wouldn’t it be?”

You blinked incredulously. “Well, for several reasons.”

He shrugged before entering the booth and leaving a healthy distance to sit just across from you. “Can’t think of any. Have you ordered anything yet?”

You shook your head, befuddled by his nonchalance, waiting to see the catch, if there was any.

“Good thing I know everything worth ordering.” His hand shot up before grabbing the attention of a server to get his order taken.

You weren't sure where the night was going. All you knew was the boy that you almost killed this morning was sitting across from you looking as breathtaking as he did this morning, even while slurping up his stir fry that was glossed with a sheen of chilli oil and swelling up his already full lips. Rather than a roommate meetup—if that was still the case—it felt like a date, a date you were exceedingly ill-prepared for.

Suddenly, you could feel the sweat on the back of your knees, feeling the strong urge to sniff the clothes on your back, unsure when the last time you did a fresh load of laundry and if your current attire was included in that load at all. Not to mention that bathroom duty that was forced upon you, which no doubt seeped into your clothes. You were better off naked, but then that would be an entire different kind of meeting, wouldn’t it?

“You’re okay, right?” You asked, trying to distract yourself from your spiraling thoughts as you barely finished your portion of chow mein—which was absolutely heavenly, to put it lightly.

He let out a light chuckle before kindly reassuring you. “How many times are you going to ask me? You and everyone from this morning. I’m fine, able-bodied and everything.” 

“I just felt really bad. You looked really hurt.”

He couldn’t suppress his grin, finding your cautiousness amusing, but it only added to your unease. “I was hurt. You’re really, really strong.”

You winced. “Again. I am so sorry.”

“Don’t be. It’s a quality of a good roommate.” He finished the last bit of his meal before dropping a couple of bills without asking for the tab. “Come on. I’ve got to show you the apartment.”

You raised an eyebrow while sipping your warm tea before tapping your mouth with a napkin. “You still want to room with me? After this morning?”

“There’s not a lot of good options for roommates in the city, and what are the odds that you’ll try to kill me twice?”

He had a fair point, and it wasn’t like you had options lining up either. You just had to hope he didn’t regret taking this chance on you.

A big reason why you wanted to move out was to learn to be on your own, but in addition to that, the city had pretty much everything to offer. The city had it all, from job opportunities to the right people to meet, and the apartment Minghao led you to was the center of the entirety of it. High above the town square, in a room several floors up, there was a nook that had a view through a large window overlooking everything within about a two-mile radius. If there was anything nice to say about the city, it definitely looked better from where you were standing. The street lights illuminated streets, neon signs brought the local businesses to life, and people that ran the night life lived it to the fullest in the flashiest clothes imaginable. You had never seen your city like this before.

Meanwhile, the apartment itself was gorgeous and already fully furnished with stylish furniture and greenery that touched the kitchen and living room. It was graced with Minghao’s taste in art and an eccentric—but tasteful—color palette of warm browns, olive greens, and rustic oranges. It felt like walking into Minghao’s mind, seeing into his world, and you were given the opportunity of it being yours, being part of his world. He was generous enough to even let you pass through the front door.

“So?” he asked, gauging your interest, watching as you looked down at the city from the large window nook in awe.

You softly scoffed, unable to take your eyes off the beautiful view calling to you like a siren at sea.  “Um, I’m sorry, you had trouble finding a roommate, how?”

He crossed his arms, admiring the sight with you, glancing at you through his peripheral vision and grinning when he saw the childlike sparkle in your eyes. “I’m new to the city, and everyone I know here has their own living arrangements. I didn’t want to go too far in looking for a new roommate. I thought we'd work well together, since we’re based in the same city now and have a lot in common based on our conversations.”

“I almost killed you this morning,” You’ve pointed out to…death.

“Although you’re…impulsive and unpredictable, I’ve seen worse. I think I’ll manage.” He splayed his hand in front of you, gesturing for a shake to officially seal the deal. “What do you say? Do you still want to be roommates?”

Everything about this screamed it was a bad idea. Putting aside the fact that you nearly killed the man, you could barely stand in the presence of him without your mind drifting to dark waters. It didn’t take rocket science to understand that putting you in that same living quarters with Minghao meant you might have to live every day together with your hands tied behind your back and thighs taped shut. You’ve surprised yourself with how you’ve managed to keep your composure sharing the same air—the air you were even thinking of savoring as you contemplated this offer.

You were down-righteously-bad. You weren’t a fit roommate for Minghao in the slightest.

Yet, you took his hand, letting his cool palm clash with your warmth as his digits wrapped around you in a tight squeeze before shaking. “Let’s do it.”

And that marked the start of a new chapter of your life, unraveling the challenge of being Xu Minghao’s roommate. Only, he wasn’t the challenge. He was a breath of fresh autumn air. He was kind beyond words and accommodating in every step of your move. You were already familiar with his gentle and patient nature, as he had frequently taken the time to clarify complex ideas for class, and you’ve learned about the majority of his interests prior from your online discussions, but seeing PalE8’s traits in person—embodied in Minghao—was bizarre. You realized he was still a stranger after all. A stranger that claimed your breath with a single bat of his eyes and turned your stomach inside out worse than a bad case of food poisoning, no less.

Meanwhile, the neighbors knew him by name, were endeared by his presence, and found him to be a delightful conversationalist as well as a helping hand when the situation called for it. He was better than your friendly neighborhood spiderman. He was your kind, considerate, intricately woven, beautifully complex, and knees-bucklingly handsome Minghao. 

You weren’t usually a sexual deviant, at least not to this extent, but Minghao brought something out of you that you hadn’t felt for another person. However, if you were going to live together, that had to change. This crush was going to have to dwindle out of existence if you wanted to live together—emphasis on you—in peace.

So, that’s when you decided to make a list of rules that only you had to follow. Sure, you were an adult, and the thought of giving yourself rules to keep your hands to yourself was juvenile and stupid, but for the sake of your sanity, you were looking for anything that might work. That’s when you decided to make a list of things “good roommates don’t do”, thinking it would be shorter and easier to sum up than a long redundant list of things good roommates would do, and the first thing to top the list was easy.

Good roommates don’t almost kill each other (again).

That seemed easy enough to remember, considering the first time was traumatic enough, and fortunately, it didn’t take too much effort, considering you hardly saw each other despite living together. 

You ended up taking up more shifts at work, desperate enough to even join the catering team, to keep yourself busy and afford the new expense of rent, sacrificing a lot more of your free time. Meanwhile, Minghao’s work schedule was not only demanding, it was inconsistent. Working at a popular art gallery as an artist and attendant with frequent and erratic events to go to until late at night prompted your roommate to be seen home a lot less than expected. By the time either of you got home, there wouldn’t be so much of a hello or goodbye either, just the sounds of bodies falling on beds in either rooms as the day’s fatigue engulfed you until you succumbed to sleep.

You’d be lying if you said that you weren’t a little disappointed by these circumstances, but then again, perhaps it was a blessing in disguise. Seeing him as little as you did meant less opportunity for you to screw things up around him, because it seemed to happen quite frequently when he was around. The few times you did cross paths, you still found ways to humiliate yourself.

“That’s mine.”

You held the toothbrush mid-scrub, bubbles foaming at the corners of your mouth, “Eh?”

“I think you’re using my toothbrush.”

Your cheeks immediately grew warm, and you shielded your face with the back of your hand. You spat into the sink and splashed water on your face to rid yourself of toothpaste residue before turning back to respond, his words jumbling in your head and bouncing from corner to corner to process them. “I-I don’t think so, this is the one I always use.”

He snickered, leaning against the door frame and crossing his arms, delectably dressed down in a gray tank top and sweatpants. The tempting taste of domesticity was sweet and permeated your tastebuds. “If that’s the case, we’ve been sharing, because I’ve always kept my brush there in the marble cup. Yours should be behind the medicine cabinet where you first left it.”

“What? You sure?” you pinned the used toothbrush on the sink’s porcelain before cracking open the medicine cabinet. “I’m pretty sure I took it—Ah!”

Startled by your findings, you dropped the toothbrush you gripped in your hand onto the floor when you’ve proven Minghao right as his toothbrush fell to the ground, now defiled with your oral bacteria and whatever was on the floor. The one day you take a shift later than usual because a member begged to take on more shifts, it blew up in your face. Seokmin, you will rue the day. “I-I’ll clean it!” You offered in a panicked tone.

He pushed himself off the threshold, waving his hand dismissively. “Don’t, please. It’s dirty; I can just replace it.”

Filled with guilt, you stepped aside to watch him pick up the dirty brush before disposing of it in the waste bin, “Sorry.”

“You say that a lot.” 

He pulled a fresh toothbrush out of a drawer and ripped it out of its packaging. It was notably identical to his previous and your current abandoned toothbrush, down to the bristles. “No worries. See,” he turned the new hygiene tool for inspection, “Clean.”

“Regret having me as a roommate yet?” you joked anxiously towards his reflection in the mirror.

He chuckled, shaking his head. “Nothing I can’t manage. I lived in a boarding house full of guys that shared things without asking and it didn’t stop at toothbrushes. You’re the first roommate I’ve had that’s apologized. I say that’s an upgrade.”

He went on to brush his teeth with his newly obtained brush, christening the bristles with a squeeze of fluoride toothpaste before scrubbing against his pearly whites. He never ceased to amaze you with his aloof attitude towards the situation, as if he’d become accustomed to your chaos when he didn’t need to be at all. This situation, however, did indicate that you had another thing to be added to the list.

Good roommates don’t use each other’s toothbrush (even by accident)

In your room just before you left for work, you haphazardly added to the list you put on a crumpled piece of paper you kept in your wallet, ensuring you held your list close before setting the pen aside. Your heart pounded against your chest, thinking what that had meant all this time. How you’ve pretty much swapped saliva nearly every day with Minghao since moving in. The fact that it had gone on for so long repulsed you, but not anymore than the tiny part of yourself that maybe had always known and continued to do it. 

You held your digits to your lips, brushing the pads against the slit of your mouth, ragged breaths slowly leaving your lungs as you reached your enamel. Tension pooled in your stomach as the images that infiltrated your dreams were currently being conjured in your consciousness, while arousal chased down your legs as you clenched them together. Jolted back to reality, you wound your eyes shut, remembering how little he cared about the matter, how nonchalant he was when he found out. Meanwhile, here you were: perverse, losing your mind, and letting your imagination run wild like a hormonal teenager with her celebrity crush. 

Fuck. You needed a night out. You had been cooped up in the apartment for too goddamn long. The only other place you went was work, and knowing labor laws, they had to give you a night or two off for all the time you’d been putting in. There was a whole outside world, and you needed to buck up and take advantage of it. You had to do something other than fawn over your very hot roommate. Losing some spare change was worth the sanity. At least, you hoped it was.

“You going out tonight?”

Hearing a familiar tenor voice, your head lifted up from fixing the strap of your shoes to see him remove his coat and store it away in the front entrance closet. “Oh, you’re home,” you stated.

“Yeah. The gallery is closed tonight for a bigger show this weekend, so I have a couple days where I’m off earlier than usual.”

More time for Minghao to be at home. Great. 

You nodded, keeping your cool at the sight of his turtleneck hugging his lean and toned frame, making your heart work overtime in place of you this evening. “I see, but yeah. A couple of my friends and I are trying out that new place that just opened up in midtown.”

“Oh, let me know how that goes. Me and some friends had plans to go there too.”

“Okay.” You hurried your way to the door. “Don’t wait up.”

“Wait.”

Hand on the door knob, you cursed under your breath, squeezing your eyes shut as if bracing for impact before opening them, and turned around with an innocuous expression. “Yes?”

He held out his hand. “Your phone please.”

“Hmm? Why,” you asked, unlocking it before complying.

He smiled accepting it, before swiping his fingers off the screen. “I’m sending myself your location.”

And there your heart when pitter-patter again at thoughtful and kind hot as fuck Minghao. “I just told you where I’d be.”

“That could always change. Here,” he said, handing your phone back, beaming back at you warmly. “Just in case something happens, and you can always call me if you feel unsafe, okay?”

You gave a soft pout, cheeks growing warm at the thought of Minghao’s concern over you. It pleased you more than it should’ve. “Thanks. What are you gonna do tonight?”

He shrugged, taking a quick glance over his shoulder. “Maybe do some light reading and tea, paint if inspiration hits me.”

You gave a small grin, thinking just how Minghao those activities sound. “Sounds enlightening. Okay. I’ll be home soon.”

“Be safe.”

Even long after you’d left, you kept thinking about that interaction. How domestic it felt, how safe it made you feel, how seen you really were. It made you wonder if he was tracking you right now, looking at his phone, staring at the dot indicating where you were located. You wondered if he was thinking about you right now, because you were most certainly thinking about him.

Your mission of trying to forget Minghao by going out definitely was not working, but you took that as a sign to keep drinking. Your friends didn’t get to see you often with how much you worked, so they were just happy to see you were having a good time, not knowing you were trying to drown out the consuming thoughts of a certain man with a peculiar color scheme. 

They wouldn’t have known the way you let yourself get felt up by a stranger near the dance floor, standing so close you could smell the knock off cologne he was practically bathing in as his breath hung in the air against your neck. When it went nowhere, he eventually left, looking for prospects elsewhere, while you stuck to your mission, seeing it work at some point at night. Until it didn’t, but you didn’t remember because eventually it’d all fade to black.

Your eyes ripped open, waking up with the biggest headache, blinded by the natural rays of light bleeding through blinds—only your room didn’t have blinds. You specifically made sure to have blackout curtains because you couldn’t stand waking up to the sun, and that hasn’t ever changed. Grumbling irritatingly along the lines about who turned on the lights, you flipped on the other side of the bed with a half awoken daze, your blurry vision making out a lumpy figure underneath the covers.

You drew closer in confusion, trying to make sense of what you were seeing before taking in the fact the lump had a face as blinding as the sun you turned away from, startling you upon recognition. Your eyes shot open, wide awake now, and you nearly stumbled out of the mattress before his arms grabbed you, latching on you before you could fall off and safely secured you in his tucked embrace. 

“It’s a bit early for your charming antics, isn’t it?” Minghao chucked with closed eyes.

You blinked back at him, licking your lips anxiously. “How am I here right now?”

His eyes slowly opened, adjusting to the light. “You mean alive or in bed with me?”

Your cheeks grew hot. “B-both.”

“I wish I had an answer for the first question, but it seems your creator had more plans for you. As for your second concern, you seemed confused and tired, and I assumed you confused this bed for yours.”

“You should’ve kicked me out.”

He shrugged nonchalantly, rubbing his hands over your shoulders and sending a chill down your spine. “I didn’t want to wake you up.”

You let out a soft sigh, ridden with guilt. “I’d deserve it. I must’ve been annoying to deal with.”

He knitted his brows together, the corner of his lips softly turning down. “You really don’t like yourself.”

“No—well, maybe not lately. Maybe I’m just coming to the realization I’m not a good roommate.”

“No one is good at anything their first time.”

“You’re not denying it!”

“You’re a fine roommate.” Patting you on the back, he threw off the covers and pushed himself out of bed, leaving his room to trod toward the kitchen. You followed after curiously, like a duckling that imprinted on its mother, watching as he pulled out ingredients from the fridge’s shelves. “Anything you’re allergic to?” He asked over his shoulder.

“Nothing comes to mind.” You answered hesitantly.

“Good. The recipe is fairly easy anyway, it shouldn’t kill you.”

Your eyes widened and you quickly stood by his side as he set all the items down, he followed with gathering bowls and cookware. “You’re cooking for me?”

“Mmh-hmm.”

“You don’t have to.”

He turned his head slightly. “You have a headache, don’t you?”

“Yes but—”

“It’s just egg drop soup.” He patted your shoulder nodding his head over at the counter stool either of you would often have breakfast. “Sit. It’ll be done in a few minutes.”

You sat patiently by the counter, watching him chop and throw ingredients into a small pot, which filled your shared residence with a savory aroma. As soon as he was done, he presented the dish in front of you, garnishing it with fresh chopped scallions and parsley. He picked up a serving with a soup spoon and gently blew on the top before taking a quick sample and grinning at the result. Scooping with the same spoon, he held a serving towards you with proud eyes.

“Try it,” he urged.

As you accepted the offering, you tried not to think about how you were about to share yet another household item that would enter both your mouths and let the simple flavors fan out on your tongue, the warmth of soup dispersing throughout your body. You hummed in delight, already feeling it work its magic. “It’s delicious,” you said softly.

He grinned. “Feel better.”

“Thanks, Minghao.”

“No problem at all.” 

As you enjoyed your thoughtful breakfast, your roommate cleaned up his mess. He wiped down whatever residue was left behind before heading to his room and coming out properly dressed in brown slacks and muted green patterned sweater when you were just about done eating. “Heading to work now.”

“You had work?” You asked surprised, “Why did you waste time cooking? You could have left already.”

He softly scoffed heading to the door. “I spent—what, five or ten minutes? It’s fine. See you later.”

In the last 24 hours, Minghao managed to make sure you were safe by tracking your location, gave you a good night's rest by not disrupting your sleep, and made you breakfast right before work. Then there’s you, black out drunk with almost no memory of last night (probably good you didn’t), annoying your overly nice and overly hot roommate, hogging a bed that isn’t yours, and eating a home cooked meal that probably set back his schedule. You were the worst. All the more reason for a new addition to the list.

Good roommates don't sleep in their other roommate’s bed piss drunk (again)

It seemed that this list of “don’ts” was getting longer, probably because you’re an awful roommate, and if there was a reward, yours would already be at the front door. You really, really had to make an effort to do something about this arrangement. Now that some time had passed and these interactions were becoming more frequent, avoiding him seemed to be out of question unless you wanted to give him the wrong impression. You would just have to become a better roommate, and that started with making up for this morning.

In the following months together, to atone for the bed incident and good deeds that followed suit, you shared the occasional breakfast if you had time (that is if you didn’t burn anything), even sometimes grabbing dinner or a late meal in the small gap before or after work. While in the late hours, when both of you should’ve been sleeping, you’d have a cup of your favorite beverages. He’d have his brew of tea for the night while you’d have a mug of coffee, awake under the stars and basking in the night, watching from the nook that you both grew fond of that was in the direction of the moon when it’s at its peak.

Of all people to share these moments with, you couldn’t imagine it with anyone else but Minghao. He was the peace amongst the chaos, the quiet you came home to after dealing with the noisy world that helped you heal like nothing else. You liked that about him, and now you were liking him too much, to the point you thought of him every day. What it’d be like for him to hold you in his arms, letting his warmth envelop your entire being the way his voice naturally does with a simple “it’s okay.” 

You’d imagine how he’d look at you, how lovers do when they ache for one another so desperately they could feel it down to every atom. You’d thought of the words he’d say to you, the words he’d say to someone he’s madly, irrevocably besotted with, and every letter and word and sentence would be spoken poetry. He’d feel like love. You didn’t think it was possible for you to grow more attracted to him, but learning all these wonderful things he does and seeing up close and personal how beautiful inside and out he was, you were developing feelings and growing all these desires that you were ashamed to admit out loud.

And with that, you pulled out your list and a pen, jotting in a new item.

Good roommates don’t live in every waking moment staring at them or thinking about wanting to kiss them (no matter how hard it is)

You’ve lost count of how many times you’ve already broken that rule, but the least you could do was hold yourself accountable.

However, writing the rule didn't prevent future instances. Not from fantasizing, not from wet dreams, not from imagining a life together where you rid all your inhibitions and clothes and succumb to drowning in each other. Unlike every other rule that you’ve managed to avoid, this one was the outlier, flipping your world on its head and preoccupying every second of your thoughts with all things Xu Minghao. And what sucked was you were so guilt ridden, you couldn't even let yourself enjoy it. 

This was your roommate for crying out loud. Your wholesome, nice, forgiving, and tolerant roommate that went beyond what was necessary to make you feel at home and comfortable. Only time will tell when he’ll see through you and finally kick you to the curb.

“Let’s go out.”

Your head lifted up from your phone with eyes large as saucers. “What?”

“We haven't really done anything together,” he suggested, cleaning up the dishes of the dinner you both had just had.

It was one of the few nights that you were both free. The coffee shop had more than enough staff, and you’ve exhausted the hours put in, while the art gallery was planning a grand exhibition, so they needed all hands on deck for the mornings for a few weeks, but evenings would be free until the week of. That left you two a lot more free time than you knew what to do with.

“We see each other all the time,” you pointed out.

“At home. We don’t hang outside the apartment aside from that one dinner the first day we met, so let’s go out.”

You blinked, watching him grab his coat before you could argue as he waved you over, his smile luring you closer and putting you under his spell without you realizing until it was too late. “Uh, where? It’s 9PM.”

“Anywhere.”

For someone who had only arrived in town a couple months ago, Minghao knew a lot of the good spots in the city.  If it wasn’t food, it was book stores. If it wasn’t book stores, it was tea shops. He had a clear plan of the city, and without so much looking at a GPS, he could find his way around better than any native. And considering all the people he came with that day you met the coffee shop and all the staff at the Chinese restaurant, his index didn’t stop at places. He seemed more familiar with the people in your hometown than you were. Between you two, he looked like the real local.

Walking alongside your roommate, you turned to him curiously, “How do you know the city so well when you’ve moved in somewhat recently?”

He gave a soft smile looking into the distance, as if the gust of wind that passed through you both hit him with a wave of nostalgia. “I’ve been visiting for about four years. I only had the guts to become a resident recently.”

“Why’d it take you so long?”

“Student visa processes, paper work, all those things. Also, this city is great, and everyone I've met and have become close with is amazing, but home is just home. It’s all I’ve ever known.” He let out a deep sigh, taking in a deep breath before stretching out his arms and let fall back to his sides, turning slightly to you. “This country and town has become a second, though, some things even my home can’t beat.”

You mused at that, intrigued that he could find something appealing in here, then again you've been here all your life, yet Minghao showed you more you could ever imagine of it. “Like what?”

He simply smiled as their feet stopped at their final destination, a location they both aimlessly walked towards just a little off the center of the town. “I’ll tell you, as soon as we try this place out.” 

Just off the center of town was a bar you had never heard of with a theme you’d never thought to put together on your own and definitely a place you’d never think to walk into with your roommate you were trying to keep platonic feelings for.

“Hey sexy babies, welcome to the Love in Leather BDSM Bar, where all your sexy dreams can come true.”

Oh, my god.

You were petrified. Every wall was decorated with leather or latex, either on display in a box, on a vulgarly displayed mannequin, or on an employee that was dressed in next to nothing, leaving no room for imagination. You weren’t shy about the theme of BDSM—there was always a small part of you curious about it—but it’s not like you’ve talked extensively about it with Minghao. The same person you were trying really hard not to think about sleeping with, which was especially hard in a place that served ‘cum shots’ and with their special for tonight being ‘buttery nipples.’

Glancing back at your roommate to get his reaction, he seemed to be just as startled with his findings as you were, but perhaps not as terrified as he should be, taking you by the wrist and weaving through the crowd with a marveled expression. You were grateful for the loud music playing the explicit versions of songs you wouldn’t otherwise hear on the radio, drowning out the sound of your heavy breathing and the loud thrum of your heart. You just had hoped he couldn’t feel your pulse under his fingertips, unable to untangle from his grasp as you felt the heat of his touch spread out through your whole body. You were trapped in a web you didn’t want to leave and that was the hardest kind to be in.

Suddenly, lights poured on the center stage of the bar. The music then slowed down, transitioning to another song, and a scantily leather clad woman entered that would erupt cheers of all clients seated in the chairs in front of her, to which she sent an air kiss and wink. Following the crowd, both you and Minghao decided to cheer along with them, your sounds of encouragement drowned out in the more enthusiastic and obscenely creative audience members of the establishment. Walking across the stage, she made a show of it, caressing her body in ways that would have a man on his knees howling at the moon (which you swore you heard once or twice in there) as money was thrown strewn stage like confetti, enough to pay for a few nice dinners uptown. After garnering the excitement, she descended down the steps of the stage, walking into her live audience. Her eyes skimmed through the endless crowds of people, landing on and picking one lucky front row member—a young, spry man no older than twenty-five—and brought him on stage, ensuing roars and applause, indicating the start of the real show.

What happened next was something you did not want to get into detail, but in layman’s terms, that audience member was having the time of his life with the use of a flog while everyone watched. You could only make the distinction of excruciating pain and pleasurable pain by the very loud affirmations coming out of his mouth and bouncing off the board he face planted on, and the words that passed through one of your ears and never wanted to come out the other. You were slack jawed from the scene, not at all expecting this scene today, and holy shit, you could not feel more suffocated knowing Minghao was witnessing all of this beside you. 

He stared back at the scene, expression unreadable, but he seemed interested and unable to look away like it was an oncoming train wreck, looking as if he was stuck on the tracks and was making sense of what he was seeing. Suddenly, his eyes locked with yours and you watched as they softened with a glint of something behind them before you swiveled your head, feeling yourself burn from your face to your ears, clenching your free hand. This felt eerily like a date, but unlike the first dinner, this felt like a real one. An immense sexually charged one. 

You were surrounded by sex at all angles, being tested to the most extreme degree. Tonight, you’ve learned dominance wasn’t particularly your thing, but if it were Minghao, perhaps you wouldn’t have minded. 

But this, this was overwhelming. As if sensing your turmoil, Minghao tugged your wrist, making you fix your gaze on him again and read the words that he mouthed from his lips. “Time to run.”

Your fingers interlocked and feet picked up speed as you headed toward the door, running aimlessly for miles out of the bar in fits of smiles and laughter. There was no plan and no destination, you both just wanted out, and you’d only stop running when you reached a bridge, both your bodies collapsing against the metal railing. You both gave out in heavy pants, your breaths mingling as you faced one another. 

“That’s crazy,” you managed to rasp. “Why did we think we could go in there?”

He gave you a tired grin back, looking in the direction from which you came. The light layer of perspiration made his shirt cling to his skin, and you get a sliver of his chest as he aired it out for comfort. “I don’t know. Try something new, but that.” He pointed where he faced. “That’s how I know so many places, I just walk inside.”

You ran your hand over your chest, baring the biggest grin. “Gosh. I feel like dying.”

“Iced coffee?” He kindly suggested.

“And tea?” You cared to offer.

Nodding back at each other, you both decided to walk the rest of the way back around, making a stop at a light night cafe and occupying their second floor balcony to taste the crisp air. As you sipped on your iced coffee and Minghao sipped on his warm tea, you quietly basked in the moonlit sky, as you’d done many times before. The adrenaline of tonight coursed through you still while you leaned against the railings and stared up at the stars, your elbows grazing close enough to spark that electricity that you’d feel whenever he ever got too close. This time, you were too tired to fight it, or you learned it’s about time you stopped trying to.

“I don’t drink coffee.” He abruptly confessed, penetrating the silence.

You softly scoffed, turning your head to him, taking his reminder as a jab for your ‘inferior’ tastes before taking a bigger sip of your delicious fresh roast press. “I know that. You prefer tea.”

“I mean, I don’t drink coffee, but the day you ‘saved me,’ I did.”

You hummed. “Oh. Yeah, you did. Funny. You got a coffee that day instead?”

He shook his head, smiling. “No, ask me why I drank coffee that day.” 

You rolled your eyes, placing your drink on the side table before leaning your elbows over the railing. “Okay. Why did you drink coffee, Minghao?”

“I drank my friend’s mug on accident, thinking it was my tea, then tasted how scaldingly hot and wretched it was—”

You gasped, offended as a barista, “I work really hard on those!”

He waved his hand to calm you down. “Let me finish. I mistook my normal tea for coffee…all because I got distracted, unable to stop thinking about the cute barista who wouldn't quit staring at me from behind the counter.”

“...I apologize for being a creep.”

He shook his head smiling and set his tea cup aside. “Not my point.”

You stared into the contents of your drink, shaking the ice inside as you stirred the straw, trying to find any remains of your beverage and stalling for time to follow up with a response. Lips pressed in a firm line, you glanced at him from the corner of your eye, silence met on the other end as he keenly observed you, mirroring your posture while he sipped his tea. “So…You thought I was cute,” you managed to sum up.

“Thought…think…know.”

“Why are you telling me all of this?” You timidly asked.

“We’re roommates,” he reminded you, plain as day. “We should be honest with each other, right?”

“Honest,” you repeated, lethally soft.

“Yes, honest,” he confirmed just as quietly. “Don’t be afraid to tell me whatever is on your mind, just as I’ve told you what was on my mind.”

His honesty was cute, flattering. Your honesty could write up a restraining order. “Is that necessary? We only really live together.”

“It’s necessary because we live together, so yes, be honest about your feelings. Let me in on your thoughts, whatever they may be.”

Good roommates don’t forget to be honest about each other’s feelings.

He stood in front of you dangerously close, the lingering smell of his cologne that reminded you of the ocean wafting into your nose as he drew near. His gaze beckoned you close without so much a word passing through his lips, and you felt his presence close in on the distance as he leaned against the railing. You softly batted your eyes, adjusting to your sense being overtaken by all things Minghao, mind just filled to the brim with Minghao, as if you couldn’t get enough of him.

“You’re really committed to being a good roommate. I respect that,” you stated, harshly gulping. “Honesty. Where can I start?”

“Well, what are you thinking about right now?” He asked, face mere inches away from you, lips so plush you let out a wistful sigh.

“I’m thinking that…it’s really hard to think with your face so close in front of me.”

Despite that, he didn’t move, and instead he pushed a lock of your hair behind your ear, brushing against your helix to feel your flustered warmth bloom between his fingers. “Fair enough. What else?”

You wrapped your hand around the railing, stabling yourself on the floor in hopes of not falling over on your two feet, your breath being stolen in real time by your roommate who was looking more and more inviting by the second.

“And if I knew any better, I’d think you're about to kiss me.”

“Let’s wager that then,” he said as he reeled even closer, his fingertips once in your ears now guiding your chin, letting the surface of your lips feel the ghost of his as your breaths mingled against one another. “You can predict one of two things. One, I kiss you. Or two, I pull away. You get a prize if your answer is correct.”

“How is that a fair wager? You can easily change your response depending on how I answer,” you pointed out, ultimately playing along.

“I won’t,” he reassured in a coaxingly smooth tone. “I’ve made my choice.”

You raised a brow, attempting to look only subtly intrigued when in reality you’ve let him enchant you. “What’s my prize?”

“Loser grants whatever the winner wishes.”

“That’s irresponsible.”

“Knowing you, your request would be far from unreasonable.”

“I’m talking about you.” You narrowed your eyes, swallowing at seeing him come at you so close. “But, okay. I’ll play.”

The corner of his lips lifted mischievously, tilting his head to the side as his eyes narrowed back at you. “So, what’s your answer?” 

Your eyes flickered up to him, rounded up in intrigue as you tried to follow his gaze. “You’ll…pull away. Public displays of affection are cute, but maybe not your cup of tea, at least not grand ones like kissing, unless maybe it’s one the cheek or on the forehead.”

He smiled and gently tilted his head, eyes piercing into yours and taking a sharp breath before pulling away, crossing his arms with a soft pout on his lips. “You’re good.”

You felt the sting of rejection despite your victory, as if you’d hoped you’d be wrong. That he’d take you right there against the railing and give you a fervid kiss that broke you down to your knees and you could even taste in your dreams, but a win was a win. A predicted loss was better than a false victory.

“I guess I won.”

He sighed defeatedly, crossing his arms. “You did. So tell me, what desire would you like for me to fulfill for you?”

You shuddered at his choice of words, clamping your legs together. “Well, what would you have wanted me to do if I got the answer wrong?”

“Is that your wish? For me to answer the question?”

You softly scoffed. “Don’t be so cheap.”

He rolled his eyes before taking a sip of his tea, “Doesn’t matter, you didn’t get it wrong. You get the wish. So go on, tell me your wish.”

“…Fine. Grant me your wish as if you had won.”

“You want me to grant my own wish? That defeats the entire purpose,” he chortled with knitted brows.

“It’s my wish, so come on. What’s your wish?”

“You don’t have to do this.”

“And we didn't have to place bets, but it doesn't seem like there’s any rules against it, so go ahead. Tell me.”

Minghao sucked his teeth before complying. “Fine.” 

He moved toward you, hands settling over your hips and settling you on the floor beneath your feet as he gravitated toward, steadying his gaze on you. His face, inches away from you, and your breath hitched in your throat as he drew his lips near your ear. You heard the subtle squelch of his tongue as they licked his teeth, moments before the wish he dared you to grant poured out from his lush lips. “My wish is for you to…make me tea every morning, afternoon, evening, and every time I ask you to. Like my little tea gremlin.”

“Now that’s just evil, Xu Minghao,” You protested, lightly shoving him off.

He laughed. “No, it’s not! Think of it like pour over coffee.”

“Don’t try romanticizing it like it’s anything like my beautiful beans. Tea is tea. Coffee is coffee.”

“It was your wish to grant my wish.”

“Can I take it back?” You whined.

“It’d be dishonorable.”

You groaned. “Fine.”

He chuckled, “Let’s go home, hmm?”

Heading back home, you were embraced by a warm comfortable silence. There was a kind of silence that sanctioned your amicable living arrangement with Minghao to turn into something warmer, feverish even, something that you can’t even help but notice and your hands would occasionally graze one another on the way back, taking turn exchanging timid glances at you walked your path home.

“That was fun,” You admitted, taking off your shoes at the front door.

“Yeah, I think so. We should do it more often.”

You smiled at each other’s reflections as you stood in front of the bathroom mirror, seeing you take the same tube of toothpaste and started brushing your teeth. You smiled as he purposely bumped into you, raising his eyebrow as you stared pointedly at him in the mirror, not expecting you to retaliate with a light shove. Ensuing a nudging war, you attacked each other’s shoulders, getting caught in fits of giggles before you forced yourselves to split up, knowing nothing would get done if you both let it go on.

“Do you work tomorrow?” You asked through the gaping door of your room as he cleared a glass a water before bedtime, freshly out of a shower and the smell of his clean, light fragrance was beguiling even from a distance.

“Yeah. Do you?”

“Yeah.”

“Mmh.” He stalked over in your direction, a feign innocent smile on his lips. “That's too bad. We only really have nights like these together, it seems at least only for a little while.”

“It is,” You said, lathering up the last bit of lotion up your legs, feeling his eyes on you as they traveled the path of your hands.

The silence engulfed you, as if both of you were waiting for the other to make a sudden move, yet both of you remained still. Like a predator with its prey, unsure who was who, you both stood with uncertainty and palpable tension hanging in the air, waiting for the other to strike when the moment was right. Even the usually confident Minghao stood back as he observed you from a distance, eyes flickering over at you as you strided slowly towards him guarded with crossed arms.

“I guess, I’ll go to sleep now,” You finally said.

His gaze softened, nodding. “Okay,” he smiled, “good night.”

“Good night, Minghao. Sleep well.”

If only you had taken your own words to heart. 

That night, you couldn’t help but stare back at the ceiling, fiddling with the covers as the night’s events replayed in your head like a home movie, your thoughts traveling at a million miles a minute, too fast for you to stop and collect them—let alone process them—and stole your precious slumber. So, as you lay in bed awake at night, squeezing your eyes shut and waiting for the night to take you, waiting for the fatigue and sleep to come, it never arrived. Instead, your eyes ripped open, heart pounding in your chest as you sat up from the mattress and tore the covers off your body. Your legs pushed you off the bed and lifted yourself off, carrying yourself out the room and out the hallway with determined steps until faltering at the threshold of another front door before you softly knocked. 

You turned the knob, the door creaked open and you peeked your head through to see your roommate on the other end in bed, torso visibly bare as he slowly sat up at his late night intrusion. “Hey,” He mumbled, rubbing his eyes. “You’re up.”

“I think it’s the coffee,” you excused, clutching the edge of the door, “I can’t sleep.”

Wordlessly, he nodded, stretching an arm to beckon you towards him, and you slowly inched closer to him until you were completely under the covers. Occupying the space beside him, you nestled into the contours of his body as his arm cushioned the side of your head before facing one another, silence enveloping you. The only sound that bit into the silence was muted traffic, infinitely alive outside the walls of your confines. While it looked peaceful, and you felt as though you could melt into his arms, neither of you looked as if you were trying to sleep.

Rather, you stared at one another, making sleep even harder to attain as you traced every feature and took them in as if they were brushstrokes on a painting. Minghao may have worked with art every day, but he was a work of art in his own right, and you couldn’t help favor him above all others. You didn’t need a Van Gogh or Picasso, you had an original, a one of a kind Minghao.

And that’s when you saw his eyes begin to drift, lowering to the bottom half of your face, lips parting in intrigue as his breath fanned lightly against your cheeks. Your face flush in response, pushing your bottom lip between your teeth before they were caught, finding yourself doing the same with him and watching his mouth move in anticipation. You felt your pulse in your throat as much as you felt it between your legs, feeling arousal pooling and soaking your shorts.

“Do you want to wager another bet?” Minghao softly offered.

“What kind?” You breathed.

“The same bet, same prize. Do you think I’ll kiss you, or will I pull away?”

You mused at him, fingers extending toward him reluctantly, aiming for a lock of his hair laying stray on his forehead before smoothing it over his head, softly stroking him, feeling him lean into your touch. “Hmm, this time you’ll…kiss me,” you whispered with absolute certainty. “The tension is practically eating you alive.”

A grin stretched wide across his cheeks as a hand softly clasped over your face, thumb swiping across your cheek. “Right again.”

He closed the gap, slotting his lips between yours and languidly moving against you, letting you chase after his pace. You sighed against him, feeling his hand on your hip as he pulled your torso against his, the other rested against the nape of your neck as he reveled in your heat. Hands flying in his hair, you softly moaned as he kneaded your skin, feeling him trace the inside of your mouth with his tongue before he roughly pulled your weight from the mattress to topple you over him, letting your legs card between his.

“Minghao,” you quietly sounded against his lips, crushing your hips against his groin and hearing his sweet moan in response.

His muscles tensed as you pressed against him, while his legs clung to your thighs. His hands ran over the shape of your figure, unearthing an ungodly moan from your lips as he slipped beneath your shorts, etching over the curve of your ass and claiming your raw flesh in his hands, pushing you against him assertively.

You whimpered, grinding against him. “I know my wish.”

“Anything,” He tenderly mumbled.

“Call off work tomorrow.”

He smiled against your lips, bringing one of his knees to pin your bodies closer together. “Means you should too.”

“Oh, definitely,” You confirmed before reconnecting your mouths in a frenzied liplock.

Feeling the grind of your hips as his pelvis crushed against yours, his grunts slipped through every caress as his hand moved up your back. Soon, you started feeling something you had yet to see from Minghao in all your time living with him, the part of him you managed to evade but have envisioned a multitude of times, growing in his sweatpants and rubbing against your thigh the closer your bodies were.

“I have never wanted someone so bad,” He whispered in a soft ache. 

His hands crept underneath your shirt, brushing against your skin, pressing against the small of your back. Pressing his torso towards you, his erection adhered to your thigh, the tension coiling in your stomach burned like wildfire, at an unstoppable rage. “Minghao,” you mewled, impatience singeing on your tongue.

“Somehow, I can still taste coffee on your breath, but I don't really mind it. It tastes really good on you,” He admitted before kissing you deeper, his moans buzzing against your mouth, hungry and alive as his hands dug into your flesh with utter greed.

“You taste really good too.” Your hand body scoured south, cupping his size under your palm and tasting his gasp as you sucked him between your lips. “I wonder what else tastes good.”

“You are something else,” he mumbled, through quiet chuckles. “Just like you to act on impulse.”

You let out a light scoff. “You are so—”

“Don’t start things you can’t finish,” he softly warned with a smirk.

“I’m not the one you have to worry about finishing.”

You moved down, the covers draped over your head as you kept your eyes on him and resting on the hem of his sweats. Minghao’s breath hitched in his throat, gulping while he felt your nails lightly claw against his bare torso, tugging the waistband off the tent he forged, revealing the lack of underwear and restraint he had left, now sprung against your face.

“Shit,” you said grinning, claiming him by the shaft, thumbing over the precum glistening at the tip. “Even your cock looks pretty.”

A soft pink decorated his cheeks and a hand meekly shielded part of his face. “You staring is how I got myself hurt in the first place.”

“Then I’ll be careful not to hurt you this time—that is, unless you want me to.”

You spat on his cock, a translucent ribbon stretching from your tongue to his length. Your saliva lubing your knuckles, you squeezed his girth in your grip as you stroked and felt him pulse in your hands, growing bigger the tighter you clenched. Minghao’s arms propped himself up and behind him as his chest heaved, blood pumping with every drag of your fingers, shallow breaths slipping out of him as he fisted the sheets beneath him.

You kissed the curve of the head, lips pursed to wrap lightly around him, suckling down his shaft, and feeling him twitch against your mouth when you chuckled. He softly whined, his hand extended toward you to tenderly caress the side of your head and tacitly pleading with you as you teased him. Showing him mercy, you took him with an eager mouth, closing your lips around his cock as you steadied your gaze on him. Moans vibrating around his girth, your tongue tucked on the underside of his shaft, hands wrapped tightly around his base.

“Mmmh like that.” He swallowed, exhaling through his teeth the deeper you took him. His abdomen flexing overtly as you moaned around him, vibrated against his skin, your pink muscle tracing over his veins as you worked your jaw to hug a tighter grip. “God, you’re perfect. Don’t stop, please…” he panted.

He palmed at your hair headily, his motor skills not properly functioning as he sucked in his breath, feeling his presence explore deeper. He leveraged his hips to regain some ounce of control, but the sounds of moisture and squelching burned his ears, and the heart in his chest was running like a marathon. His eyes, fluttering in and out of focus, trained his gaze on you while his stomach tensed, grasping the vision of you getting wide-eyed and bold as you gingerly ate him alive. Burning the image into his retinas, it made him want to explode inside you.

Threading through your hair, he pulled them up and off your shoulders, showing off your pretty features, doing everything in his power not to give his climax an early appearance. “I’ve never seen such a pretty mouth take my cock so well. Then again, I’ve never had a pretty roommate like you, or anyone like you.”

Flustered from the flattery, you sucked him like your life depended on it as you grew hot, making Minghao’s task to regain control strenuous to achieve. You hollowed out your cheeks, leaving no room to breathe, and felt him in your throat as your vision rolled to behind your skull to the point your language deduced to the sounds of gagging. You gripped his hips, nails plunged into his flesh as your drool dribbled down his groin, slobbering over his cock in an erratic, hungry mess.

“Yes, like that. My god,” He praised through ragged breaths, hips jerking gently up into you. He lightly threw his head back, the urge to ram himself down your throat getting exceedingly more tempting, but he suppressed it as he dug his nails into his own palms. “I’m so close to cumming, can I–in your mouth or should I…?”

You hummed a confirmation before you swallowed him whole until you met the base, meeting his groin as he vanished inside you, breathing oxygen not even an afterthought. Images in front of you dulled in color, pictures shapeless and unclear, and you pushed past your boundaries to let him find home in your mouth, deeply intent with him finishing inside you one way or the other.

“F…f…fuck...”

Pleasure rippling through him, Minghao pushed himself up from his position, thrusting weakly as he cradled your head, pouring his thick, ivory load into your mouth, which was insistent on receiving every drop. He filled your cheeks, allowing warmth to coat the inside of your mouth as he tenderly stroked your hair in gratitude. Cupping your cheeks as he let his hips falter, he gently pulled himself out of your mouth, amused at how carefully you were trying to not let any of his cum seep past your lips as you sat between his legs.

His fingers danced under your chin. “Are you gonna swallow?” Minghao tiredly chuckled.

With smiling eyes, you tilted your head, as if asking if you should.

He pushed your hair behind you, softly pressing his lips against your tightly shut lips. “Don’t if you don’t want to.”

An idea occurred to you then, and in an instant you pushed yourself up to board him as your knees took either side of him, looming over him. His hands naturally found your waist as you lifted his chin, eyes staring at you curiously as his hands ran up body and gently clawed down, awaiting your next move. You then thumbed over his bottom lip before dipping between the slit of his mouth and saw it naturally part, taking the digit and settling it between his teeth.

Now confidently, you lowered your head, swirling the contents in your mouth before pushing your thumb deeper, prying the entrance wider, and finding no protest as he sanctioned it. He dug the pads of his digits into your flesh in anticipation. His eyes fluttering, he watched as your mouth withdrew the generous gift he gave to you before you gave it right back to him as it gracefully streamed down on his pulsing, eager tongue. And nothing satisfied you more than hearing him sigh wistfully as it landed.

It sent you shivers how beautiful he looked despite how vulgar the act was. Only Xu Minghao could make tasting his own cum look so ethereal, and it only made you wonder what other things a face this beautiful was willing to do. You swiped whatever fell from the corner of his lips with your thumb, sucking the residue like leftovers before you connected your mouths, sharing and tasting his lewd tang in violent swirls, and pulling away to watch it stretch between your tongues.

“I guess toothbrushes aren’t the only things you like to share,” Minghao teased before pushing you on your back, grinding his resurrecting arousal against your clothed heat and lathering the thick, viscous substance flat between your tongues in your mouths as it dribbled down your chins until there was nothing but slobber. It was a mess, and the most unmannerly you’ve ever seen him, and you’ve never been more turned on.

“My turn.”

With a rough hand, he tugged you by your legs towards him, hearing you let out a yelp, and shoved down your shorts to expose your glistening, mouth-watering, arousal soaked entrance. Be still his heart. He felt himself throb seeing you ruin his bed, but hell if he wasn't going to be sucking those juices out of the sheets until he’d tasted every drop.

He kicked off his sweats, leaving him entirely vulnerable while you witnessed his cock slowly twitch back to life before he laid on his stomach between your arched legs. “If we want to talk about pretty things, your pussy is high up on that list.”

Not waiting for a response, he licked a thick stripe up your inner thigh, flickering over your folds before sucking them in his mouth, using the tip of his tongue to tease your entrance. He felt the flutter of your core before spitting, lathering at the juices, coating at entrance but not peeking to see what was inside. “You’re already so wet, fuck.” 

“Hao…” You whined.

“Mmmh, I love how you sound,” he chuckled, running long strokes up your slit, wedged through you with every swipe, looking arm around your leg to hold you in place as his thumb brushed over your clit. “Are your moans always this delicious? Or are they reserved for when you’re thinking about me?” 

Shaking your head, you were too turned on to answer verbally, while his mouth closed around your clit and sucked, utilizing his fingers to assume their previous position. You clenched your stomach, fisting into the sheets as you spread your legs, feeling them already clam up from the tension as his tongue flicked against your sensitive bud in unison with his fingers twisted up into, and you couldn’t help but writhe underneath him.

“Yes, spread those pretty legs for me,” he encouraged with a haughty smile before burying his face, his moans vibrating up your walls as his tongue massaged your walls and tasted your cock pulsing nectar, sending chills up your spine.

You mewled, and feeling reserved, you held your hands up to your face to shield the tears collecting at your eyes threatening to fall, but Minghao grabbed you by the wrists, roughly pinning them to the bed.

His eyes narrowed back at you before softening almost menacingly, “Don’t cover your pretty face, watch me.”

“But—”

“I want you to watch me fuck your pretty pussy with my mouth. Don’t make me say it twice.” He warned before he got you a quiet nod, earning you a kiss against your inner thigh.

His hand flattened against your inner thighs again, pressing them further away from another and delving his tongue deeper as he rubbed your clit, working your insides until he tasted every inch of you possible. He buried his face, but his eyes were clear, staring at you as he worked his jaw, engorging with his mouth that sent you above and beyond and his eyes that saw you at the result of your undoing. You had no choice but to cling on, freeing yourself from his grasp to have your fingers fly in his hair, navigating him as you took him for a joy ride, his tongue shifting gears as it picked up pace.

“S-shit!” You rolled your hips, threading your fingers through his locks and clamping his head between your thighs as you pushed him deeper.

“Yes, ride my face—fuck, use me, please,” he pleaded in a cracked voice, pouring his heart into his feast until he was practically suffocating, worth it to worship you and bring you to the highest peak of your pleasure.

Your legs trembled as his moans infiltrated your heat, the intense flicks of his tongue titillating you to the brink of ecstasy until he used it to fuck you in time with his fingers thrusting inside, clutching you as you held him in place and grinding against him. “My god, Hao!”

Hips shaking, you bucked into his mouth, and even after your release, he made no effort to stop, lifting you to his mouth as he got on his knees, eating you like a meal he’d never have again until he worked his tongue raw, tasting you and only you as your cum coated his mouth. You squirmed, the suction of his lips on your sensitive core in tandem with his tongue viciously swirling inside you overwhelming you beyond words, unable to kick him off as he held both your knees above his head.

“You’re gonna kill me, Hao,” you cried desperately. “Just put it in me.”

He chuckled before setting you down, meeting your lips halfway as he stroked his fully erect cock, massaging the evening’s concoction against your tastebuds, mingling the contrasting flavors as they battled in your mouth while the knowledge of it all pebbled your skin. Meanwhile, he ran his hands over you beneath your shirt, found your nipples, rolling them against his thumbs as his cock rubbed between your folds, ebbing your moans as they buzzed against his lips. “What if I want to play with you first?” He taunted.

You whined, brushing your lips repeatedly over his. “I want you inside me.”

“You’re cute even when you’re needy,” he gushed.

You clasped your hands over his soft, warm cheeks. “Minghao, please…”

He playfully rolled his eyes, kissing into your palm then down your wrist before his teeth playfully started nibbling at your skin. “Fine, because you asked so nicely. Just to let you know, though, I don’t have a condom on me right now, but I’m clean.”

“Then, we don’t need one.”

He grinned, stroking the back of your head. “I had a feeling you’d say that.”

Rubbing his tip down your slit, he savored your whimpers as he drew circles against your clit before sliding his length through your folds and stretching your walls, letting you slowly adjust to his presence. Your jaw slightly dropped as you took a sharp inhale, fingers digging into his shoulders and clinging on to him before you felt him sink deeper inside you, pacing his thrusts in a steady rhythm. Your eyes flit to meet his, feeling the back and forth of his hips as they snapped, while you reveled in each collision.

“Yes please…”

Before losing himself in his pleasure, he was determined to remember how you looked getting lost in yours, taking in your features as they distorted under his care. He first found your eyes–lost in a galaxy with an infinite amount of stars out of the way. Then, his eyes started to follow the slope of your cheeks, flushed to the touch against the back of his hand, saliva leaking out of your swollen lips. And your body with the shirt adhered to you by the sweat on your skin, clinging to your form and proving to him time and time again that you were not only the object of his desires, you were something straight out of his dreams.

“You look, taste, and feel good? Where have you been all my life? Really?” He landed a harsh thrust, pressing down on your nipples and smiling manically at how you whimpered in response, clutching you as you shuddered against him. “You like that?”

You nodded, clawing your hand up his back.

“Mmh, me too,” he drew his lips to your ear. “And I like you. A lot. I wouldn’t let someone go on and use my toothbrush for months if I didn’t.” He slowed down his thrusts, cupping your face to meet your eyes. “You like me too, right?”

Feeling your ears burn, you frantically nodded again, mewling after you felt him nip at them, teeth scraping under your earlobe before an open mouth pressed against the side of your neck. The warmth of his breath sweltering against you as you struggled to carry on with the conversation Minghao was determined to have.

“Yeah, you want me to take you on a real date?” He said into the nape of your neck, moaning into your skin as he dragged his hips, rutting into you like an animal.  He barely made out your soft ‘yes’s in your sharp gasps. He gritted his teeth, taking you by the hips, pushing himself flushed against you. “Fuck, you’re so cute,” he groaned.

His hips took flight while he separated your mouth in a loud moan, feeling you becoming malleable under his touch and growing weaker as you recoiled against him. He lifted your shirt above your chest and neared your stiff peaks, rolling your bud against the base of his tongue as he pinched the other, moving out of pure instinct. You threw your head back, going mad with sexual gratification. Your body spasmed out of your control, yet you craved more.

“Harder,” You gasped.

He scoffed under his breath in disbelief. “You want even more?”

“Yes…I want you to cum inside me. I want to feel everything that’s yours, Minghao.”

Knees buckling at your titillating request, he gripped your ass in both palms, clutching you against him as he rammed himself up inside you, and you’re forced to hold on. “I’ll do you one better,” he offered, “why don’t I just make you mine?”

“I…Oh, god…” Your brain was becoming mush, only processing the sound, taste, smell, sensation of Minghao’s cock as he plunged himself inside you. It fogged up your thoughts, clouded your judgement, and only formed incoherent gibberish that took place of real vocabulary as they passed through your swollen lips.

“Be mine, hmm?” He asked, pleading. “That way I can be yours.”

Captivated by his words, you nodded, feeling him suck the life out of you as your body felt close to giving out, the hilt of his cock bottoming out inside you. You anchored your legs around him, following his pace before you felt something within reach, just seconds away from ripping a scream out of your throat that would surely ensue a noise complaint from one of your neighbors.

“Hao, I’m going to cum, I’m really close,” you meekly warned.

His hand settled against your thigh, nodding. “I can feel it. You’re shaking so hard. Let me have it, I’ll catch you. Every last bit of you.”

Ecstasy was just a word, but Minghao was everything, and you could breathe in that everything. 

Your bodies crushed against each other, lost in heat as you became one. Breaths blended, bodies embraced, only faltering after you long finished the initial orgasms, coming back for more. You embraced  the sheer carnivorous lust that quelled this several month long push and pull, adhering you by the sweat misted on each other's skin before your mouths tenderly met repeatedly.

Sleep felt futile, while the night felt everlasting. Minghao’s company was more than you could ever ask for, and by the time you did sleep, you were too tired to move. You collapsed against each other, bodies drowning in each other’s releases, sheets and pillows stained by the arousal from the evening’s lack of inhibitions. Minghao should’ve been just as tired, but instead he tended to your tired body, leaving kisses in its wake as he cleaned you off and slept alongside you in your clean bed, letting him worry about laundry in the morning.

With your eyes closed, mind in another world, Minghao was brushing the hair away from your face, softly smiling as you gently stirred and nestled closer to him. In response, he pressed a sweet kiss to your temple, warmth blooming in his chest as a grin developed on your face.

“I’ll take you on a proper date. I promise,” he said while you slept. “And If I don’t, pull the bad roommate card on me. You can punish me however you like.”

“…ok, I will.”

[animalphotorefs]

New Index: Baby Animals

We need things to make us smile right now, so I'm launching this page earlier than I planned.

This is a new index page - it's a list of all the species where I've got photos of juvenile animals. With previews! And it links out to the full page so you can see all the cute. It's a living page and will be updated as I get more photos online.

Right now, there's...

Gorillas

(There's some really neat photos of an extremely fresh baby gorilla being carried by mom - I can't put those on the hellsite because they don't differentiate female-presenting-nipples by species, so you gotta check them out on the page)

Black Rhinoceroses

Lions

Snow Leopards

Blackbuck

...and more!

Artists creating derivative or transformative works (without AI) have blanket permission to use these and all photos in the repository as references, including works that will/may be sold.

The Exotic Animal Photo Reference Repository is an independent, permanently open-access project and funded entirely by donations, please consider contributing if you can!

**Patreon** -- **Ko-Fi**

[grimini]

[onlyangel4]

in your corner. roman reigns.

roman reigns x reader.

synopsis: you were cm punk’s sister. you were supposed to stay away from roman reigns. but what started as backstage tension turned into more and when things bubble over between your brother and roman, you are left not knowing what to do.

warnings: cursing. smut. angst with a happy ending. 18+

∘•···············•∘ʚ ♡ ɞ∘•················•∘

you never meant for it to happen.

it started small, casual glances backstage, a shared smirk during catering, the brush of his hand a little too close to your waist as he passed behind you in a hallway that was definitely wide enough. you didn’t think much of it at first. roman reigns had that kind of presence. intense. charismatic. impossible to ignore. you figured he was just like that with everyone.

until he wasn’t.

until he started seeking you out, finding excuses to be where you were, lingering a little too long in doorways, catching your eyes from across gorilla with a look that made your stomach twist.

you tried to ignore it. you really did.

especially when punk, your brother, made it very clear where he stood. roman was off-limits. end of discussion.

"he’s manipulative. he’s dangerous. he’s not who you think he is.", your brother had previously warned

"and what if i can make that decision for myself?" you’d challenged.

"i won't let him hurt you"

it should’ve stopped there. but it didn’t.

because one night, after a show, you found yourself in an empty hallway behind the curtain, lights still dim, the crowd’s energy still buzzing through the walls and roman was waiting there, arms folded across his chest like he’d known you’d come.

"you always sneak off like that?" he asked, eyes glinting in the dark.

you swallowed "just needed some air."

"or maybe you knew i’d be here", he pushed "maybe", your mouth moved before your mind could stop it.

he pushed off the wall, closing the distance between you in three slow steps. not touching but close enough that you could feel the heat rolling off his skin. your pulse kicked.

"you know what your brother would do if he saw this", he murmured, voice low and dangerous. "we’re not doing anything", you said, though your voice had gone breathless. "yet"

his fingers brushed yours, soft, deliberate, like he was testing the water. you didn’t move away.

you should have.

instead, you whispered, "you think you’re dangerous?"

roman smiled. that slow, wolfish curl of his lips that made your knees weak.

"i know i am."

then he kissed you.

it wasn’t sweet. it wasn’t careful. it was heat and frustration and weeks of tension finally snapping. he kissed you like he’d been holding back for too long, and when his hand slipped behind your neck, pulling you closer, you let him. You kissed him back just as fiercely.

by the time you pulled away, breathless, lips tingling. your head was spinning.

"we shouldn’t", you whispered.

"say the word and i’ll stop", he said.

but you didn’t say a word.

and neither did he when he walked away a moment later, leaving you standing there in the dark with your heart pounding and your hands shaking.

it wasn’t the last time. it was just the beginning.

∘•···············•∘ʚ ♡ ɞ∘•················•∘

it wasn’t supposed to go past that kiss.

you told yourself that every time it happened again, every time you found yourself tucked into a shadowy corner backstage, pressed against a wall with roman’s lips on your throat and your hands tangled in his hair.

but it kept happening.

quick moments. secret touches. just enough to drive you crazy, never enough to satisfy. the fire between you and roman simmered beneath the surface, unspoken but ever-present. and every time your brother was nearby, laughing with paul, barking orders in the locker room, you felt the weight of it. the guilt. the thrill.

the danger.

one night, after the show

you ducked into the trainer’s room late, already knowing who’d be in there.

he was sitting on the edge of the table, shirtless, his ribs wrapped and sweat still slick on his skin. He didn’t look up right away, but his voice gave him away.

"you keep finding me."

you smiled faintly, shutting the door behind you. "you keep getting hurt."

he finally looked at you then, really looked. there was something softer in his eyes tonight. less edge, more weariness.

"does it bother you?", he asked.

"what?"

"that we’re hiding."

you hesitated. the truth tasted like betrayal, but it also tasted like him. "sometimes."

he nodded slowly, jaw flexing. you crossed the room, gently placing your fingers on the edge of the tape wrapping his ribs.

"does it hurt?" you asked.

"only when i breathe", he muttered, then cracked the smallest smile. "or when you look at me like that."

you tried to roll your eyes, but your lips curved anyway. you were already close, too close. your hand slid up his chest before you could stop it, your fingers brushing his jaw. and then you were kissing him again.

slower this time. deeper. His hands gripped your hips like he needed something to hold onto, like if he let go, you’d disappear.

"you know this isn’t just messing around anymore", he said against your lips.

"i know", you whispered back.

"and if he finds out"

"then he finds out.", you finished the sentence for him.

he pulled back slightly, searching your face. "you’d choose this? over him?"

that made you pause. the silence between you went heavy.

you didn’t have an answer yet.

but you were already there, weren’t you? already choosing, every time you showed up at his door, every time you let him touch you like this.

so you kissed him again.

"let me worry about my brother", you murmured. "just, don’t stop needing me."

his response was a low groan, and the way he kissed you then? it was closer to worship than want. like he knew he shouldn’t have you, and still he just couldn’t let go.

∘•···············•∘ʚ ♡ ɞ∘•················•∘

you were standing just behind the curtain, headset hanging loosely around your neck, pretending to look busy. pretending not to watch roman.

The crowd was white-hot. as the three of them stood in the ring, Roman Reigns, flanked by paul heyman, staring down seth and punk, both with mics in hand.

the energy felt dangerous.

you weren’t even supposed to be watching. you told yourself not to care. Not to feel. but you were already standing by the monitor, arms crossed over your chest, heart hammering in your throat.

you watched the monitors as transfixed as the rest of the crowd. your own brother had not told you what the favour was going to be.

you had no clue that it was going to be something as insane as this.

the words being thrown around by the men in the ring became a blur.

that was until you heard the shift in your brother's tone.

that made you really tune into what he was saying.

"cause at wrestlemania. in the main event. in my corner. your wiseman. my best friend"

you gasped cupping your mouth

"paul heyman"

your brother had done it. he had stripped roman of his wise man.

you watched on as the men exchanged heated words but eventually paul admitted that he was going to be in punk's corner.

you watched on with devastation etched on your features and your brother delivered a devastating gts to the man you had been seeing for the past eight months.

you couldn't watch.

so you left.

∘•···············•∘ʚ ♡ ɞ∘•················•∘

you didn’t go back to the locker room. you couldn’t look your brother in the eye. couldn’t bear to hear him justify what he just did. you didn’t even know where roman went, security said he left alone, bruised, silent, furious.

but you had to see him.

you needed to see his face.

needed him to know he wasn’t alone.

even if it meant breaking every rule.

even if it meant choosing him.

∘•···············•∘ʚ ♡ ɞ∘•················•∘

when you got to the hotel you basically knocked his door down. "roman, it’s me."

silence.

then the door creaked open.

he stood there shirtless, wrapped in bandages, jaw bruised, eyes glassy. you’d never seen him like this, not broken, no. roman reigns didn’t break. but he looked, lost.

"what are you doing here?"

"i saw what happened. i had to see you"

"you shouldn’t be here."

but he didn’t close the door. and you didn’t leave.

he turned away, running a hand down his face as he sat heavily on the edge of the bed.

"he was all i had left. paul. jacob's gone. solo’s gone. now him. just." he shook his head. "gone."

you walked in slowly, gently shutting the door behind you.

"you’re not alone."

he laughed once, dry and bitter. "aren’t i? you’re his sister. you’re supposed to be on his side."

you knelt in front of him, your hands settling on his thighs, fingers brushing over bruises. "i’ve been on your side since this started"

he blinked, startled by the words. you kept going before you lost your nerve.

"i tried to stay away. i tried to do what he wanted. but i can’t keep pretending this doesn’t matter. that you don’t matter."

his voice cracked.

"don’t say it unless you mean it."

you reached up, brushing a thumb under his eye where a bruise was forming.

"i love you."

he inhaled like he’d been drowning.

then he pulled you into his arms, and didn’t let go.

the clothes came off slowly. one layer at a time, like unwrapping something fragile. he touched you with reverence, like memorizing every inch of skin beneath his fingertips. like if he just touched you long enough, maybe the rest of the world would fade.

when he finally pushed inside you, it wasn’t rough, it was steady. deep. like he needed to be there. like he needed to feel every part of you wrapped around him, holding him together.

you moaned softly against his mouth, arms looped around his shoulders, nails digging in just enough to ground you both.

his forehead dropped to yours, breathing heavy, jaw tight.

"you feel like peace", he whispered, voice raw. "and i haven’t had peace in a long, long time."

you cupped his face again, eyes locked on his.

"then take it. take me."

he moved inside you with a rhythm that was slow and deliberate, hips rolling into yours like he couldn’t get close enough. like it wasn’t about getting off, it was about holding on.

each thrust, each breath, each soft moan between you, it built not toward a climax, but toward something bigger. something almost holy.

and when he came, it was with a low groan pressed against your shoulder, arms locked around your waist like a man anchoring himself to the only solid thing left in his life.

you followed right after, trembling in his lap, heart pounding against his chest like a war drum. but it wasn’t chaos this time.

it was peace.

you stayed like that for a long time. just breathing. tangled together.

eventually, his voice came, low and gruff against your hair, "you meant it. when you said you loved me.”

you nodded.

"i did. i do."

he exhaled.

"then i’m not letting you go. not for him. not for anyone. because i love you too"

∘•···············•∘ʚ ♡ ɞ∘•················•∘

It was well past 2 a.m. when the silence finally wrapped around you both like a blanket. the air in the hotel room was warm, soft with the rhythm of your breathing, your bodies still tangled beneath the sheets. his arm was draped across your waist, fingers gently tracing circles against your hip, like he couldn’t quite stop touching you.

you could feel the weight of his thoughts pressing against the back of your neck.

"you’re thinking too loud", you murmured.

he chuckled, barely.

"can’t help it."

you turned to face him, noses nearly touching. "talk to me."

his eyes searched yours like he wasn’t sure where to begin.

"i don’t know what to do now", he said honestly. "this, you. it’s the only thing that doesn’t feel like it’s falling apart."

you rested your hand against his chest, feeling the slow, heavy thump of his heart. "then hold on to it."

"It’s not just that", he said, eyes flickering between yours. "it’s the way you look at me. like i’m not just what i’ve built. like i’m not the crown or the gold or the image heyman polished for the cameras."

he swallowed hard.

"i don’t even know who i am without all that."

you leaned in, lips brushing the corner of his mouth.

"you’re the man who stood by everyone, even when it cost you. you’re the man who led because no one else could. but under all of that, you’re roman. you’re joe. and i love him."

his breath hitched at your use of his real name. no stage lights. no persona. just him.

"you’re not afraid of him?"

"no", you said gently. "because he’s the one who lets me in."

he closed his eyes for a long moment, forehead resting against yours again. you could feel him surrendering, not to defeat, but to trust.

"if i let you in i don’t think i'll be able to shut you out again."

"good", you whispered.

he pulled you closer until your leg was hooked over his waist again, your head tucked beneath his chin. and he held you there like you were a lifeline. like you were all that kept him tethered to the world.

"you’re not just in my corner now", he murmured into your hair. "you are my corner. my only safe place."

you didn’t respond. you didn’t have to.

you just held him tighter.

∘•···············•∘ʚ ♡ ɞ∘•················•∘

you barely heard the knock at first, just a dull thud against the wood. you were half-asleep, curled into roman’s chest, his arm heavy around your waist, the sun bleeding in through the curtains.

it came again.

he groaned low in his throat. "ignore it."

but something in your chest said don’t. something in your gut knew.

you slipped out of bed quietly, wrapping the hotel sheet around your body as you padded barefoot to the door.

another knock. this time harder. angrier.

you looked through the peephole.

shit.

you turned to roman. "it’s him."

his eyes opened slowly. "who?"

you hesitated, heart kicking up.

"my brother"

roman sat up instantly.

"don’t open it."

but it was too late.

the second you cracked the door open, punk shoved it wide.

he took one look at you, hair a mess, bruises on your collarbone, wrapped in a sheet and then at roman, shirtless, sitting up in the bed behind you.

his face turned to stone.

"you’ve got to be fucking kidding me."

"phil, don’t", you started

"don’t?” his voice rose, sharp and cruel. "don’t what, y/n? don’t be pissed that my sister is sleeping with the guy i’ve told her a hundred times to stay away from? the same guy i just humiliated in front of the world?”

roman stood, slow and steady. he didn’t reach for a shirt. he didn’t flinch.

"get out."

punk ignored him completely, eyes on you like roman wasn’t even there.

"you chose him? after everything? after i told you what kind of man he is, what he’s done?"

"i know who he is", you said quietly. "better than you do."

"bullshit", punk snapped. "he’s using you. he’s trying to get to me."

that made roman laugh, low and bitter.

"trust me, man", he said, stepping closer, "if this was about you, i’d have finished it in the ring. but it’s not. she’s not yours to control."

punk’s jaw clenched. "and you think you’re better?"

"i’m not trying to own her. i’m just not letting her walk away."

you stepped between them then, hands on roman’s chest to steady him, voice firm.

"I’m not leaving him."

punk looked at you like you’d slapped him.

"so that’s it?", he said. "you’re just gonna throw me away for him?"

you took a breath.

"no. you decided that you had a say in the guys i date. i am an adult and i can make my own choices, you just look right through me, like i'm not here."

his expression faltered. for just a second.

but you weren’t done.

"i've stood in your shadow for years. done what you asked. been quiet. been good. but this?", you reached for roman’s hand. "this is mine. and i’m not hiding it anymore."

roman laced his fingers through yours without hesitation.

punk stared at the two of you, face blank, rage seething just beneath the surface.

"fine", he said at last, voice like a blade. "but don’t come crying to me when he breaks your heart."

with that he turned and walked out.

the door clicked shut, and roman didn’t say a word.

he just held you.

no big, cinematic moment. no speech. just the solid weight of his arms, the warmth of his chest, the quiet pulse of his heart against your ear.

for a man known for power, for dominance, for the way entire arenas bent to his will, he held you like you were everything.

"he’s not wrong", roman murmured, voice low. "i’ve hurt people. i've made choices i'm not proud of."

you looked up at him, fingers sliding along his jaw. "so have i"

he studied you for a moment, then leaned down and kissed you, slow, careful, like he was still asking if it was okay to want you like this. but you kissed him back with no hesitation. because this time, there were no secrets. no hiding. just you and him, the quiet, and the bed you’d already made together.

this time when you made love, it wasn’t desperate.

it was intentional.

roman laid you back on the bed with reverence, like you were something sacred. his fingers slid over every inch of skin with slow, practiced care, as if he wanted to memorize you in this light. with the sun streaming in, with no shadows left to hide in.

"i never asked what you wanted", he whispered as he kissed down your chest. "always just took what i needed. but you’re not just comfort. you’re not a secret. you’re mine. and i wanna give you everything."

you smiled, breathless, as his mouth found the curve of your thigh.

"then shut up and do it."

he growled against your skin, and then his mouth was on you, tongue slow, deliberate, teasing in the worst and best ways. his hands held your hips down while you writhed beneath him, moaning his name, fingers clutching the sheets like they were the only thing keeping you grounded.

when he slid into you again, it was different than before.

this time, it was a promise.

every thrust, every kiss, every breath was slow and drawn out, a rhythm just for the two of you. he took his time, not because he was unsure, but because he could. because the storm had passed, and now you were both just home.

when you came, it was with his name in your mouth and his forehead pressed to yours.

"i love you", you whispered again, and this time, he didn’t freeze.

"i love you more", he breathed back, and you felt it down to your bones.

∘•···············•∘ʚ ♡ ɞ∘•················•∘

you didn’t expect him to knock again.

but a few hours later, there he was.

punk.

no fury. no yelling. just him, tired, red-eyed, arms crossed over his chest.

roman stood back when you opened the door. he didn’t interfere. he just watched.

"can we talk?" your brother asked quietly.

you stepped out into the hallway, arms crossed for protection you weren’t even sure you needed.

he rubbed the back of his neck. "i was outta line. i know i was.”

you didn’t say anything yet.

"i don’t get it", he said. "why him. why now. but i saw the way he looked at you. and i saw the way you stood up to me."

his voice cracked just a little.

"you looked happy. for once. really happy."

you swallowed hard.

"i am."

punk nodded slowly. "then that’s all i care about."

a pause.

"but if he hurts you"

"he won’t", you cut in.

he sighed. "guess we’ll see."

and then, he reached for you. pulled you into a tight, quiet hug. the kind you used to get when you were kids. the kind that meant sorry and i love you all at once.

"still hate that it’s him", he muttered.

"i know."

"still hate it."

"i know."

but when you stepped back, he was smiling, just a little.

and for now, that was enough.