I'm thinking of a knight who needs convincing, a lot of it. And in the process of being convinced, would have to stop his hands from reaching to Them. He stops his movements further and further closer to them.
When, finally, he relents and agrees to give them what they want his hands reach for their form and their grip is intense, bruising.
One of the Knight's hand find their shoulder and push them down. They resist and he pulls away from the kiss and lifts both hands as he tutts.
"No, dearest. On. your. knees."
They blush, then. Hard. And fall to their knees. The knight reaches for their jaw and steers their head and gaze to him.
"This will be your only warning: I am never repeating myself again. And my hands talk for me."
They swallow hard and nod enthusiasticly in the tight space the knight is letting them.
Fiercely then, the knight bends to their level and kisses them oh so softly.
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He never calls it anything. That’s the first problem. And somehow, you still let it slide every single time.
Juhoon sits across from you in the diner like the world is weightless. Elbows on the table, coffee cooling in front of him, thumb scrolling through his phone like your entire relationship is just background noise.
You watch him a second too long.
He notices, of course. He always does.
“What?” he asks, eyes still on the screen.
You tap your finger against your mug. “What are we?”
That finally pulls his attention. Not fully—just enough for his gaze to lift. He blinks once, slow, then shrugs.
“Us?” he repeats, like the word is optional.
You wait.
He goes back to his phone.
You let out a small laugh, but it comes out flat. Brittle.
“That’s not an answer, Juhoon.”
He leans back in the booth, too relaxed, like this conversation is optional too.
“Why does it need to be one?” he says.
There it is. The quiet truth you’ve been stepping over for months because facing it felt heavier than pretending.
You stare at him. He doesn’t look guilty. He doesn’t look uncomfortable. He just looks… calm. Like you’re the one turning something simple into something complicated.
“Juhoon,” you say, voice low and steady, “I’m not asking for a contract. I’m asking what I am to you.”
He finally sets his phone down. That small victory feels hollow.
He tilts his head. “You’re here.”
You blink.
“That’s it?”
He shrugs again. “What do you want me to say?”
Something honest. Something that makes me feel like I matter in a way that isn’t temporary.
But he’s looking at you like this is a discussion he can walk away from whenever he feels like it. Like you’re not already something he’s been inside of for months.
You lean forward slightly. “Do you tell other people about me?”
He hesitates. Just for a second. But you catch it.
“Sometimes,” he says carefully.
“How?”
Another pause. He scratches the back of his neck. “Depends.”
Depends. Like you’re the weather. Like you’re convenient. Like you’re not someone he actually chose.
Your stomach twists, but your face stays neutral. You’ve gotten scarily good at that.
“So I’m not your girlfriend,” you say. It’s not really a question.
He doesn’t answer right away. Not because he’s thinking. because he doesn’t want to.
“I didn’t say that,” he mutters.
“You didn’t say anything,” you reply.
For the first time, he looks a little less bored. A little more aware that something is slipping through his fingers.
“Why are you making it weird?” he asks.
You almost laugh again.
“I’m not,” you say softly. “I’m just finally listening to everything you’ve been saying without words.”
Silence stretches between you.
The diner keeps moving around you, plates clinking, laughter from the next table, life going on like it always does when something important is quietly ending in the corner booth.
Juhoon sighs, like you’re exhausting him.
“I like you,” he says at last. Simple. Flat. Like those three words should be enough to patch everything.
You nod slowly.
“Yeah,” you say.
Then you slide your phone into your pocket and stand up.
His eyes follow you, confused now. Slightly annoyed.
“Where are you going?”
You pick up your bag and look at him one last time. Really look.
And it finally clicks, sharp and painfully clear:
He’ll never call it anything because calling it something would give it weight. And he doesn’t want weight. He wants access without responsibility.
“Home,” you say.
He scoffs. “Over this?”
You pause before giving him a small, tired smile. Not warm. Not angry. Just… done.
“Yeah,” you say. “Over this.”
You walk out without looking back.
He doesn’t change for you, so you didn’t stay for him.
when human man - aged,
matured, meddled their
dried fibers into woven tool,
mimicking kindred animals with
minimal fur-- so that they, too, may hitch a ride to
expand beyond their starting point.
Fruit, a sacrifice not all are able to provide
as a gifted trade for transport.
Shelled, packed data.
The first manipulation of the social network system"
you’re not small enough to disappear beside him, and that’s the point.
when you stand next to mingyu, there’s no visual joke. no exaggerated bend of his spine, no teasing awe from strangers about how he “dwarfs” you. instead, people do a double take. two long silhouettes. shoulders almost level. strides that naturally match. a tall power couple without trying.
mingyu notices it first in reflections. shop windows. elevator mirrors. the way your height aligns with his without effort. he likes that he doesn’t have to crane his neck down to meet your eyes. likes that when you look at him, it’s straight on. equal. steady.
dating him means existing in his space without shrinking yourself. you don’t tuck into his chest like something fragile. you fit there. your arms wrap around his waist properly. his chin doesn’t rest on your head so much as near it. when he hugs you, it’s full body, solid, grounding. like two pillars leaning into each other.
there’s something soft about how he reacts to it.
mingyu is confident, loud when he laughs, all limbs and warmth. but with you, there’s a quiet pride that settles in his chest. the kind he doesn’t announce. the kind that shows in how he places a hand on your lower back in public, fingers spread, claiming space for both of you.
photos are his favorite. not because he’s the tallest in frame, but because you stand next to him without angles. no tiptoes. no slouching. you lean into him, shoulder to shoulder, and it looks natural. balanced. like the world didn’t design one of you to overshadow the other.
sometimes fans whisper about it.
“they’re both so tall.”
“they look unreal together.”
“that’s actually insane.”
mingyu pretends not to hear, but later he brings it up casually, like it didn’t matter. like he didn’t replay it in his head.
“they said we look… strong,” he’ll say, amused, eyes bright.
and you’ll shrug, smile a little. “we are.”
domestically, your height shows up in small, intimate ways. you reach the top shelves together. when you cook, you bump hips easily, neither of you folding around the other. when you argue, you stand your ground literally and emotionally. mingyu doesn’t tower over you when voices rise. he has to meet you where you are.
and he does.
when you’re tired, leaning against the counter or the wall, he presses in close, forehead against yours, murmuring instead of teasing. he knows you don’t need to be handled gently like glass. you need to be held like something solid that’s had a long day.
in bed, there’s a comfortable sprawl. legs tangled without one of you completely overtaking the space. mingyu loves how your body fits his without him feeling like he has to curl around you. sometimes you’re the one pulling him closer. sometimes you’re the one pinning him down with your presence alone, smiling when he raises his brows like, oh. okay.
he brags about you in the most mingyu way possible.
not directly. not “my partner is tall and hot.” it’s more subtle.
“yeah, we borrowed the same coat size.”
“they keep stealing my hoodies, but they actually fit them.”
“standing concerts are great. we can both see.”
the guys clock it immediately.
seungkwan complains about feeling short when you’re both around.
wonwoo just hums, amused, says nothing.
vernon once calls you a final boss couple and mingyu beams for the rest of the day.
when mingyu kisses you in public, it’s unhurried. no awkward bending. no rushed peck. he steps in, hands framing your waist, and kisses you like you’re meant to be met at eye level. like he doesn’t have to compromise his posture or his affection.
at night, when it’s just the two of you, he traces the lines of you with reverence. long legs. familiar angles. strength he recognizes. there’s something grounding about loving someone who physically matches his presence in the world.
“i like that you don’t disappear,” he tells you once, quiet, honest.
you don’t ask him to explain. you don’t need to.
you stand beside him. always have.
headcanons
mingyu loves when you wear platforms or boots that make you exactly his height.
you share clothes constantly. jackets. hoodies. sweaters. nothing looks oversized on either of you, which secretly delights him
slow dancing is elite. foreheads touching. arms resting naturally. no strain
he instinctively reaches for your hand in crowds, not to guide you, but to stay aligned😏
photos of the two of you standing back to back live rent free in his phone
when someone jokes about your height difference being “small,” mingyu smiles proudly and says, “yeah. perfect, right?”
Was just thinking about a (now deleted?) text post I shared about how it's not a big deal whether a person has sex and we should stop treating it like it's "cool". And I agree that the mystique around sex should be done away with. But at the same time, sex can apparently have a bunch of health benefits¹ and also seems like it would be fun, despite the fact that the literal sensation of an orgasm wouldn't be significantly different from what's reached during masturbation. So I'm interested in breaking my dry spell, and feel I should be more active in seeking it out.
Since many health benefits have also been shown to come from friendly physical contact in general, I'm willing to believe that sex itself might not be the cause of its purported health benefits, but rather that sex coincidentally usually involves touch. And so sex just happens to treat "touch starvation". Despite this, sex still has some unique appeal to me and I have some other interests in it than any from its ability to treat that so-called touch starvation. Just what those reasons are, I'm not sure. It could be that I'm still under the spell of the mystique of sex. I probably am.
So I agree that the "cool" should be taken away from sex, and that it's totally fine for a person to not have it whether asexual or not. But I don't want to come across as an ascetic who rejects sex and/or who thinks horniness is cringe. I am still very much interested in having sex.
At this point, imagine that I cough and quickly say something I'd be too embarrassed to say in a clear voice: [M4A] Montreal - looking to top
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ot13
Ways they connect w/black reader [F, E, R]
Seventeen x busy reader [F, T, E, H]
Its Just.... [A]
s.coups
Don't leave me [F ]
Verses between us [F, T, C]
Twin Flame//Platonic [T, H, E]
jeonghan
The quiet parts we don't say [A, E, T, R]
Warm Hands [A,C]
Soft Mornings [f]
joshua
jun
Dance for me [F, T, E, R]
hoshi
Dance for me [F, T, E, R]
Adore You [A, F, T, R, E]🖤
wonwoo
Verses between us [F, T, C]
woozi
Done Waiting [A, E, T, R]
Every timezone, always you [ E, T, R]🖤
Studio Gremlin [F, R]
Hard Hands, Soft Heart [F,PR,C]
the8
Dance for me [F, T, E, R]
Little China on 7th [C,F,T]
mingyu
Verses between us [F, T, C]
You missed the group chat [A, T, R, E ]
Eye level [F,R]
In Retrospect [A]
dk
An Inside Look [F, R]
seungkwan
vernon
Verses between us [F, T, C]
dino
All grown up [F, T, R] 🩵
Dance for me [F, T, E, R]
As far as I know, the most bang-for-your-buck stuff that able bodied people can do for "fitness" if they have the time is
-Diet: Add fiber and protein to every meal (Goal: 10g fiber per meal, and an amount of protein per meal equal to 0.16g per lb bodyweight or 0.35g/kg bodyweight... all assuming 3 meals per day) Build up the intake gradually.
-Cardio: Do interval walking. This means sets of 3 minutes slow walking followed by 3 minutes fast walking. (Full benefits at total 30 mins per day so 5 sets of the above)
-Resistance training: Do some squat variation and some pushup variation which are difficult enough such that the maximum amount you can do is somewhere between 5 and 30. Do sessions of 3 sets of each to failure, at most 3 times a week. (Save time by alternating them like squats-pushups-squats-pushups-squats-pushups so that while doing one set, the muscles for the other are resting)
The benefits of these three things are mostly independent.
Justifications:
-Adding protein and fiber has health benefits independent of a person's other nutritional intake. Other recommendations like calorie counting take such a tremendous amount of effort to learn that it's not worth the average person's time to get good at it and maintain the skill. (To say nothing of the negative physical and mental effects that can come from restricting calories by any amounts other than the most conservative. To be pedantic, the increased protein and fiber intake will probably raise the satiation of each meal to the point that net calorie intake will be reduced anyway)
-Interval walking gives more benefits (heart strength, blood pressure reduction, etc.) in less time than normal walking, and is still easy enough that a person can focus on other things while doing it. Also, it has an easier time being used for commuting than more intense cardio, so it can save time by being used this way.
-Squats and pushups are chosen because they can be done without equipment, and the muscles involved are large enough that the muscle gained will be significant enough for benefits like blood sugar regulation. Technically it would be better (less fatigue, same muscle gain) to recommend an intensity and rep count such that failure is achieved only at the end of the final set, but it's simpler to recommend going to failure each time.
