#exo Tumblr posts

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    exo’s stylist updated again and tagged suho’s instagram!

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    – Every Woman is a Protest | capa para a collab da @stellaruniversestaff

    Caso se inspire, de os devidos créditos.

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    so! what’s the name of this drama?!

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  • KAI & BAEKHYUN behind the scenes for Superm"s “One.”

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  • there is a house family pic that we all need 🥺

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  • Thanks to Sehun’s existence, everything is

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    #our angel #thank you ♥️♥️♥️ #sehun#oh sehun#exo#vlog#youtube
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  • It’s just a song it can’t hurt you

    The song: paper cuts by exo-cbx

    #exo #did i just put myself in sad hours #yes yes i did
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    It’s always been you since from the start. 당신을 사랑해요 ♥

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  • for the nth time isn’t he just the cutest ꒰⌯͒•̩̩̩́ ᴗ •̩̩̩̀⌯͒꒱

    #exo#yixing#zhang yixing#lay#lay zhang #what a baby #omg #ZYX IS SO PRECIOUS
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  • 💌

    #hi baby! 👋 #kim jongdae#chen#jongdae#exo#exo m#solo #i bet these are on here already but boms made me think of him
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  • I have no explanation for this other than the fact I got really sad one night and had this idea. I hope you enjoy it! 

    Ship: Kim JongIn x Do Kyungsoo 

    Themes: Fluff, a little bit of angst but in a soft way

    _______________________________________________________________________

    It started to get bad on the morning of July 2nd. JongIn woke up with a golden ray of summer sunshine sliding between the curtains to dance tauntingly across the deep scowl crumpling his face. Still, his eyes remained tightly shut. It was cold. The feeling had settled deep into his bones and the third blanket he pulled over the ever-growing pile covering his shivering figure did nothing to chase away the goosebumps tugging almost painfully at this skin. He shuffles awkwardly, trying to rub away the discomfort on the sheets below him but to no avail. A frustrated groan falls from his dry lips as his body goes limp, pressing his cheek further into the fresh drool stain decorating his pillow. He grimaces at the wet, cool sensation but makes no effort to move away from it. 

    It was early. It must have been. Through the slightly open window, he could hear the heavy silence enveloping the street below, disturbed only by the rusty squeak of the paper boy’s bike as he hurriedly made his round, school uniform flapping in the wind at his sides, and by the joyful music of cartoons muffled by the thin wall that separate his apartment from the Jung’s living room. The ghost of a smile flashes across his face at the thought of next door’s little rascals watching SpongeBob is their matching pyjama sets, but the joy quickly fades away as he is suddenly reminded of the emptiness of his own home. Could he still even call it a home? 

    When he finally manages to pry his eyes open, he forces himself to look past the empty side of their double bed and at the wall opposite him. He lets his gaze roam on the chipped paint for a while and tries to make sense of the shapes carved by time. But that morning the blobs meant nothing to him. His mind remained blank. 

    It took all the strength he had left to get up and drag himself to the bathroom where he was greeted with the frightening sight of his own reflection, peaking from behind the specks of toothpaste splattered across the mirror. Deep dark crevices painted hollow crescents under his empty eyes, dragging his face down onto the sharp cheekbones threatening to rip through the tight skin pulling over them. He tugged a cracked lip between his teeth and played absentmindedly with the dead skin. 

    At least when the water flowing generously from the tap hit his face he felt a small wave of relief, the comforting heat spreading from his cheeks all the way down his neck as blood rushed to the surface of his skin. Slowly, the goosebumps disappeared and the exhaustion burning incessantly behind his eyes became a little more bearable, fading away into a low, irritating hum. Then came the toothbrush, working tirelessly to replace the lingering saltiness of last night’s tears with a cooling minty breeze so strong it tickled the back of his nose. 

    As he opened the cabinet hidden behind the mirror and reached for his moisturizer, JongIn heard the echo of his alarm beeping angrily from the bedside table. He rushed out to switch it off, hip bumping violently against the side of the desk, sending a sharp pain shooting up his side and the decorations encircling his laptop rattling and tumbling across the wooden surface. He twisted his neck awkwardly to look at the mess he made while his hand tapped furiously and randomly over the screen of his phone. 

    When he finally hit the right button, silence returned, falling heavily in the room as if a thick blanket had just been draped over his head. His movement slowed once again as he struggled against the dull ache of tiredness numbing his muscles. Still, after a while he managed to make his way back towards the desk, shadow looming over the scattered pens and notepads he had left from yesterday’s desperate attempts at studying. Somewhat reluctantly, he allows his gaze to slide onto the frame that had toppled over at the impact and now laid face down on an opened textbook. The familiar sting of tears made yet another appearance behind his eyes, albeit slightly weaker than it had previously been. With a deep breath, he gathers the courage to reach for the frame, wrapping a shaky hand around the thick, carved edge before hesitantly putting it back where it belonged. 

    As soon as his eyes meet Kyungsoo’s, almost hidden behind the reflective glaze of the paper, a tear slips down his burning cheek. He wipes away angrily and grits his teeth, realising suddenly that he doesn’t have the strength to tear his gaze away from the scene. 

    They are in Rome. The blinding rays of sunlight had been beating the stone paths of the city all day, chasing away the cooling shadows from St. Peter’s Square. The basilica stood behind them, strong and ancient and breathtakingly beautiful. And yet Jongin’s eyes were glued to Kyungsoo’s face as he gently wiped away a thick bead of sweat drifting down his cheek with a gentle hand. The shorter man smiled brightly, eyes full of love focused on the camera and piercing through JongIn’s soul, one hand raised at his side into a shy thumbs-up. As his eyes wander further down he notices, with a pinch in his heart, their interlocked fingers squeezed between their two frames, almost hidden by the flowy fabric of his shirt.

    JongIn picks up the picture once more as he tilts his head to the side. Basking in the ghostly glow of what must have been the happiest holiday of their lives. In an unsure and awkward movement, he pulls the frame closer and holds in against his chest, wrapping both arms around it and squeezing tightly. The sharp corners of the frame dig almost painfully into his arms but he couldn’t bring himself to care. A few more tears slip past his eyelashes and his body begins to shake under the relentless attack of the sobs he attempts to contain. 

    Despite the fog enveloping his mind, he smiles.

    January 25th, 2021 he thinks. 

    I can wait. For Kyungsoo. 

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    capa teste ─ rede social ever

    inspirada em @/giihxs

    #capa de fic #capa para fanfic #capa para spirit #chanyeol#exo#capa divertida#sehun#sechan
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  • might fuck around and get back to this also a friend said she was thinking of doing anime texts 😳 how are we feeling??

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