#jiminxmgh

3. My muse finds your muse naked and covered in bruises and scratches.

“..Jimin?” Eyes widening as they landed on the younger, Jaehyun took a step closer. Skin, covered in hues of purple, pink and red, Jaehyun fond he lacked the appreciation for the beautiful colours painfully inflicted on the boys skin. Instead his chest tightened and he dropped to his knees in front of Jimin, hands raising to his cheeks tentatively. 

“What happened?” His voice shook, as did his cold fingers brushing against the grazes on the younger’s cheeks. Whoever had done this to him, whoever had caused Jimin pain, set blemishes into his pale, smooth skin, would pay for their crimes. 

With their life. 

He tugged off his own cardigan, keeping his eyes on Jimin’s as he knew that the others nakedness may bother him - Jaehyun hardly noticed. Jimin was hurt, that was what mattered. The long, black cardigan he’d been wearing came to be draped over Jimin’s shoulders, long enough to cover him completely. 

Sitting back on his heels he carefully ran a hand through the younger’s hair, before shifting to slide his arms around him, one arm behind his knees, the other around his upper back. Then with strength he didn’t know he posses he lifted Jimin to his chest, standing and ignoring the way his fingers shook - he wasn’t bothered by the physical contact with Jimin - he trusted Jimin. 

Sentence starters (injured & abused edition)

those words nearly brought a sneer to sungyeol’s lips, but he quickly pushed the urge away and kept his facial expression peacefully smiling. “of course. never play with scissors. got it,” sungyeol replied as he held the bandaged hand to his chest.

he was barely containing his fury, and it was threatening to spill out, out of his mouth in the form of curses and through his actions.

“i won’t make the same mistake again,” he added after a moment, eyeing the same pair of scissors which were still yet to be cleaned of the red staining the blades. when the other started noticing that something was up, sungyeol had to improvise something, as stupid and embarrassing a story it would be to tell the others later.

Dark eyes flickered over to the fellow brunet, an insolent snort of laughter left Junho. The words uttered out of Jimin’s mouth had been so spontaneous, an uncalled event. After their fiery spat that had erupted days before, Junho had believed that their interactions were drawn thin and he would no longer have to deal with yet another pest pricking away at his skin. Unfortunately, as Jimin decided to advance upon him once more, Junho was quick to realize that reality was, once again, trailing far from the desired path that he had hoped for it to go down.

So the little cunt loved his mom. His precious, gold-hearted, chivalrous mom whom’s smile could perhaps make the spring flowers bloom and the winter’s frost melt. His mother, so insignificant and so little that, no matter how heroic or homely she could be, to have Jimin proclaim his undying love for the woman left no significant gesture nor feeling within Junho’s core.  

“Is that so?” The brunet replied with feigned interest, crossing one leg over the other as he eyed the other male with a mischievous glint in his eyes, “You love your mother.” The repeated sentence, when falling off of Junho’s tongue, rung ill like a foul note, a twisted jumble of words that lacked any fine emotion that could have been pinpointed in Jimin’s words. “Lovely-- absolutely lovely.” A huff escaped Junho’s lips as he strummed his fingers on the surface of the table and he tilted his head ever-so-slightly higher up in his repulsive pride.

It wasn’t a forbidden secret on campus, the rumored contempt that Junho held towards his own mom. Although it wasn’t publicly known as other unfortunate events or scenarios, the knowledge could be accessed easily upon socializing with any being whom truly loathed every fiber that rung in Junho, anyone eager enough to tarnish whatever fame that clung onto his name. 

“I hope that love of yours lasts, then.” He continued, “I hope it grows and fills her, until it travels through her veins and suffocates her and makes that big little heart burst.” He shrugged and pursed his lips nonchalantly.

“Hold onto her,” Junho had added in, “You’ll never know when she’ll get snatched away.” 

Perks of Being a Wallflower (Book): Sentence Starters

"..." for really long, all Byungjoo could do was stare at him, trying to search for an answer to give his friend but to no avail. “Different? Meaning?” he furrowed his brows and bit his lips, seeing how he wasn’t getting answers to his question so he could answer what was the bigger question. 

“I don’t think you can...” he mumbled, head hung low and volume barely audible, fingers tapping onto the table softly, “if you can reverse it... you can’t be similar in a way that doesn’t can you, becaus- I don’t know.” He felt horrible for not being able to answer the statement given. “And I want to know how too, maybe I’m not just the best person to ask.” He stood up, grabbing everything off his table and turned around.