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gyuswhore · 2 years ago

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How to Win Hearts for Dummies (the answer is lattes and banana bread)

Idol!mingyu x makeup-artist!reader

genre: fluff, angst, one sided pining

warnings: slow burn, swearing, shitty bosses, some descriptions of anxiety and breakdowns, one sided pining, reader has issues opening up (lmk if there's anything else)

13.4k words (im sorry)

plot: This apprenticeship was taking a toll on your self control in the worst possible way. Walking in 8 months ago, a resignation from your corporate job and a dream in your pocket, you made an oath to stay focused on the goal at hand and to enjoy what you did for a living for once; makeup. Except, your still stuck as an apprentice with a mentor that has no inclination for your growth.

And you’re a little bit in love with your client.

masterlist

(A/N): repost bc Tumblr wouldn’t show it in the tags!!! Thank you for clicking on this clonking my pants as I hit post ! I started working on this at the beginning of exam season and I’m posting it the night before my last exam 🥲 what a full circle moment. Also pls excuse any inconsistencies or grammatical errors, my beta reader, unlike me, actually cares ab her grades and is in the beginning of exam season and therefore will not be able to read through this monstrosity for a while lmao. Enjoy hehe

Edit: I’ve just realised how many mistakes and grammatical errors I’ve made throughout the fic, serves me right for proofreading at 3 AM after a stats exam. I’ll try to fix them all asap!!!

The camera goes off again with a distinct click. And again. And again. And again.

The camera had gone off innumerable times since Mingyu walked out in another themed ensemble, and you were there, watching, through all of it.

You watched as he kept switching positions, rotating his body and his head. Morphing his features into more variations of dazed and serious than you thought could ever exist.

Standing there, at the portable table behind the main setup, attempting to clean a lip brush that would be needed soon when the inevitable call for-

“Makeup over here! We’re taking 5”

You note your sluggish pace as you snap out of your daze and scrubbing harder with the removal cloth. Snapping your head down, hoping nobody noticed your incessant heart eyes, you realize you were in trouble now.

‘Y/n, you’ve been cleaning that brush since I left 10 minutes ago!’ The senior makeup artist snapped.

You finish up the brush in hand and quickly hand her what she needs, not before rummaging for the tiny pot of lip product you absent-mindedly packed away.

‘Sorry, really sorry’ you choke out before she leaves in her badly concealed irritated expression. You see her make a beeline for a waiting Mingyu, who adorably squats for the woman so she has better access.

This apprenticeship was taking a toll on your self control in the worst possible way. Walking in 8 months ago, a resignation from your corporate job and a dream in your pocket, you made an oath to stay focused on the goal at hand and to enjoy what you did for a living for once; makeup. Except, your still stuck as an apprentice with a mentor that has no inclination for your growth.

And you’re a little bit in love with your client.

It's not that you were overage (your mother begs to differ), but considering you were on your second big girl job and still no sign of a potential lover, the prospect was starting to weigh on your head. The first rattling experience was when one of your closest friends announced her engagement, your thoughts still stuck in a 19 year old you considered she was too young. She was not, in fact, 19, or too young, but a perfectly acceptable age to consider marriage with someone she loved, you had soon realized. You were never one for the dating scene, but you were always one to don your Dr. Love labcoat whenever an emotionally bruised friend would come seeking help. You were good at advice, but awfully bad at applying it yourself.

Coming into this job, surrounded by a plethora of beautiful people, your heart would be of stone if it weren’t to waver.

The gong of unattainability had struck the second you laid eyes on Mingyu, laughing at something Hoshi had shown him on the phone. There he was, hair and makeup-less, looking like he had just rolled out of bed (which he had), and beautiful as ever. Beginning this new chapter with a bang, only problem was that it turned into an 8 month shoot out. Having encountered a number of gorgeous people, you’d learned to appreciate their genetic lottery pull and move on. But never had a single look left you as breathless and unbeared as that one, fateful look at Mingyu. One of the team members was busy assuring you not to worry too much about the pandemonium in the dressing room, that everyone would handle it and you were only asked to observe and help with smaller things as instructed; for now. You weren’t listening too hard though.

You were now adjusted to the chaos that comeback season and 13 men plus staff in a microscopic dressing room brought about. But you will never forget how in the midst of your first rain of hell, Mingyu had asked you to pass his phone.

‘Please?’ He had said, and you slammed your hand with a force of a woman infatuated on the table behind you and (literally) breathed out the first thing you had ever said to him.

‘Here’

He smiled and gave you a quick ‘thanks’.

There was no coming back after he flashed you those irresistible canines, and to this day, you wonder what nation you saved in a previous life to be able to have him know your name, hear it roll off his tongue in his pretty voice as he asks you to fix his smudged eyeliner.

You sigh defeatedly before your mentor slash irritated makeup artist shoves her load back in your hands and instructs you to come inside to pack up. It’s become routine for you now, as you begin to pack up the bigger palettes and tools, handing a ready-to-go-home Junhui the pack of makeup wipes he asked for, zipping up bags and closing tubs of outfits. It's an organized chaos but one everybody has grown to work around.

Mingyu is done before you, as he removes his jewelry and begins to shrug off his jacket. You scramble to find the clothes he came in and his coat, pointedly ignoring the familiar scent of wood. He thanks you and shucks off the remainder of his clothing, he might be used to stripping in front of professional staff, but you look away regardless for your own sanity.

Helping the last stylists hang the final jacket, you grab your bag and get ready to leave in your own car. Mingyu has left, not before throwing a “you did well, thank you!” over his shoulder at the remaining people in the room and leaving for the honking car outside.

***

Your mashing bananas in a bowl at 12 AM when you start thinking. Impulsive baking sessions had become a norm since you started working with Seventeen, needing to keep yourself occupied to stop spiraling. Mingyu was a recurring topic (surprise surprise), but one that quickly faded when you begin to think about what the future holds for you. You start mashing the banana harder. You consider the idea that you can’t complain, being in a position some of the most well seasoned pros had difficulty reaching. Being a single young woman and being allowed so close to some of the most unattainable men was seen as near impossible. You’d like to think it was your skill that got you here but can never seem to fully rule out a processing error.

It’s hard, being stuck in the same place. Your apprenticeship should have ended 2 months ago, but even if it had, you’d still be doing the same thing. The senior artist trusts no-one but a select few to work on the boys for photoshoots, events, music videos. People like you are left to sanitize sponges and clean the fallout.

You crack an egg on the counter and it splits open entirely, falling on the floor, yolk and all. Your inability to grow stays within the idea that you can’t really do your artistry like you want.

And how you never learn to crack your eggs on the bowl.

***

Showing up on the Going Seventeen set, you rush to the dressing room way earlier than you should. Being completely honest, you’re really only rushing because you want to maneuvere yourself to do Mingyu’s makeup before somebody else snags him. This was one of the very few engagements where you were occasionally allowed to take charge on makeup. Not that it was required for the show much at all; intensity and occasion wise. Your rare (possible) moment to (maybe) come into Mingyu’s organic notice was an opportunity never to be dropped by you.

You help setting up everything on the counters as the boys begin to (loudly) file in the rooms. You see Mingyu walk in and move to ask him to sit down once he’s done discarding his coat. He was first in line and you ‘happened’ to be the first one ready to begin working.

‘Is the eye makeup heavy? I just got a sty removed and I don’t know if I should be putting anything on at all.’ He asks as he sits down and you ready your damp sponge.

‘Not really, just smoothing things out. It should be fine.’ you say as you begin to press the compact on his cheek.

Your not really sure why, because you’ve never been able to muster anything above brief replies when in contact with him, but something in you pushes you to keep talking.

‘I’m surprised they even asked for us, they rarely ever do’ you continue, heart pounding so hard you’re afraid he might hear it.

He breathes out a laugh ‘Yeah. They even started advertising the show on youtube and subway stations and stuff, I didn’t know until I saw someone talk about it online’

You smile at his response ‘Well, all of you work so hard, it's about time they pull this to a high scale production’

‘It's never really work if your having fun, we try to be ourselves on here’ He replies, still smiling slightly.

You’re damn near close to collapsing on the floor at this point. This is the longest conversation you’ve ever had with him. You opt to smile in response as you start to concentrate on his eyebrows. The rest of his face is done far too soon as you zone out and do what you do best.

‘All done’ you announce as you pull away from his lips, trying not to have yoour gaze linger.

“Y/n! Can you start on Vernon if you're done?’, another artist calls from behind.

‘Yeah, he can come up!’ you reply as Mingyu (regretfully) walks towards hair.

Just because you sew your mouth shut with Mingyu doesn’t mean it applies for the rest of them, you’re quite friendly with all of them and Vernon does well to remind you as he sits down and quips a ‘hey bestieee’ in an elongated greeting.

You audibly laugh ‘That’s another word I’ll be hearing for the next month’

‘Regretfully so’ He feigns sympathy.

‘Be quiet and look up’ you say with a fond smile before you get started on him.

***

You sit on the floor in front of your television, trail mix on the coffee table as the movie plays as background noise for your thoughts - again.

There’s a smile on your face, but you dont notice as you think about the small talk you made with Mingyu today, wondering if it could become a regular occurrence if you learned to keep your heart and mind in check.

You were never one to stand up and take effort to do what was right for you, which is why you were talked into choosing Business Administration by your friend in highschool, who you never speak to now because she decided to ditch you for another group who were more inclined to shuttle themselves to liver failure by partying every last weekend in your entire college career. You were talked into applying to corporate jobs by your counsellors as you started looking for make-up courses, needing to abandon your dream for the second time when you landed a decent entry level desk job. It took years before you decided to choose yourself for once and made the big leap after multiple courses you had took on the side. Life was starting to look bright after getting hired here, but you’re not sure if you overrode a high or if you went back to your old zipped mouth state after you settled in. Never sure if you expected too much or if things really were as stagnant as they felt.

***

Overmanifestation can be a thing. You're not really sure how it works but you’re reaping what you’ve sowed right about now.

You’re currently standing in an offside corridor in a hotel lobby, clad in a pretty white floral dress, and a nervous, fidgety Mingyu standing in front of you.

'I know I'm asking you to do something difficult and I know it seems pointless because I'm not doing anything wrong either that you have to lie about it'

This was supposed to be a staycation with your friends for you to relax and get your mind off things. Your ticket to relaxation has become a nightmare.

'And I understand I'm being super unreasonable but I'm really trying to keep it on the down-low as we get to know each other'

You were waiting with your friends on the couches positively stuffing your faces with the complimentary chocolate bowl placed on the coffee table as a couple other friends checked you guys into your rooms. You were laughing and talking with your group, carefree and ready to have a week of well deserved rest.

That was the plan anyway. Until you see someone across the lobby, also in line at check in. He had an unmistakable toothy smile,and was hand in hand with a concealed brunette.

Your smile abruptly falls in disbelief as you feel your world halt around you.

The same hands come up to brush the hair out of the woman's face to place a kiss on her temple, smiling wide.

The nauseating feeling of ice going down your spine is becoming more and more apparent. You attempt to swallow the lump in your throat but it's like trying to swallow a brick. You lick your lips and attempt to look away but your eyes keep feeding on the picture you painted yourself in your worst nightmares. Realizing you're on the brink of possible hyperventilation, your friend drops her head and asks you if you're okay. You look up at her, not knowing what to say as you realize that nodding furiously will convince her.

Mingyu has a girlfriend.

Of course he would. What were you thinking? This man is one of the most eligible bachelors in the country, why on earth would he be single? You’re unhinged, you decide, for thinking you may have a chance, when the woman turns around and you see her in full. She’s gorgeous.

A part of you still wants to believe that you're officially past the point of sanity and that you've begun to see Mingyu in every tall man. The universe, however, is cruel. He pushes his head up and in your general direction, and locks eyes with you in unmistakable recognition.

He stops smiling.

So here you are listening to Mingyu asking you to keep this a secret from the company, to forget the woman waiting for him in the lobby.

You can only nod in slight motions as he goes on his rant to justify his oath to secrecy, managing a tight lipped smile as you miraculously find your voice, hoarse as it may be.

'Don't worry about it, I understand' - ouch - 'it's none of my business anyway. I'll keep my lips sealed, I promise'

'Thank you, thank you, thank you I appreciate it so much, you don't even know. I'll repay you soon I promise'

'No, please, it's not-'

'No, Y/n I will. You're being really good to me right now and I'm so grateful. I'm sorry for putting you through this while you're off from work and with friends. It's worth to me that your listening and understanding'

You're tired. You want nothing but for him to stop talking. So you smile again and shake your head.

'I'm sure your friends are waiting, I won't keep you. I'll see you soon though!'

And with that he leaves. Back to the lobby where you see him take the woman by hand once again. You watch again as they walk to the elevators, stepping in and disappearing when the doors close. You watch the floor number rise.

1, 2, 3, 4, 5…

You walk back to your laughing friends before you can see where they got off.

***

Retiring to your shared hotel room with Chaeyoung, you fall back first into the crisp sheets and mattress.

'Why're you so depressed dude, did Mingyu say something to you?' She asks, a slight line forming between her brows.

'I'm fine, I've been up since 5 today it's just fatigue hitting me right now' you reassure, like always. 'I might not go to dinner with you guys, might end up with my face in the soup at some point'

Chaeyoung hums. ‘Take the night off so you can gear up for the rest of the week. I'm letting you off for now but I expect full attendance for eveything else we do', finishing with a mocking stern look.

'Yes ma'am' you feign salute from the bed, mimicking her stern tone.

You've known Chaeyoung for quite a while now, meeting her in your last year of uni. Trusting her as you do, you were never fully able to fess up about your feelings for Mingyu. Fear of judgment wasn't the problem, but more so the strange feeling of shame that overcomes you when you think about talking about it with other people. It's quite beyond you, why you act this way. You loved your friends and you knew they would support you with everything, they'd proved it when you'd made one of the most difficult decisions of your life while leaving your job. But the idea of having the audacity to love someone who could never do the same seemed like a feat of embarrassment.

Who are you, y/n? Who are you to have foolish dreams of a girl in love? With someone clearly fit for all things greater than you?

Maybe this was a good thing, you thought, the weird feeling in your stomach returning. Maybe this was the universe telling you to give up and move on, a kind of rejection that keeps your dignity. This was nothing but a reality check, a sign from whatever wants best for you, to bring your attention back to what brought you to Mingyu in the first place.

***

You didn’t see Mingyu for the rest of the trip, which you were grateful for not knowing how you’d react if you had to see him so soon after, that.

Back massaged and head clearer than it had been for weeks, you feel more in control of your feelings and thoughts regarding your life. You hope the conversation with Mingyu was the last stressful thing you’d encounter for a while.

It’s almost comeback season, you realise as you see the new concept photos while scrolling on your couch at home. This meant insanely early mornings for weeks on end, but you had to push through for your own sake. You’d come out of multiple comebacks needing a brace for a month but you wouldn’t trade it for the world. Never realising the true meaning of learning through experience, you were enlightened as you entered this new, very hands on field. The concept looked interesting, hoping the scraps of makeup you’d be allowed to do would be fun for you.

That ended up being true when you were, for the first time, asked to do Hoshi’s full makeup for their first comeback broadcast.

Your stumped silence was short lived as you hastily oblige and get the chair ready for him. You’d looked at the demo sheets and face charts too much for someone who wasn’t actually going to be asked to do much, but you see it pay off as you finish his eyes and get started on the rest of his face. It was easy for you to zone out as Soonyoung had passed out not even 5 minutes in, having someone hold his face as you worked.

You felt your chest swell with an indesipherable feeling as you watched him get up with your mastery on his face; pride, was it? You were getting emotional for no reason. Your attention, however, is moved sharply when you hear someone tell Mingyu it was his turn, finding him plopped on your chair staring straight into nothingness as he’d just been rudely awoken from his nap. He doesn’t realise it’s you for a solid minute as he tried to remember his own name.

‘Oh, hello’ he says, sort of confused. ‘Sorry, just give me minute’, he mumbles as he rubs his eyes.

He stretches back onto his seat signalling he’s ready for you to get started. You trying not to feel too much in your stomach as you begin.

You’re powdering his forehead when he says “I know I already said this but I really appreciate what you’re doing”

You know he’s talking about the conversation at the hotel, you were hoping you could avoid it.

“I told you not to worry about it, honest.” You reply, and somehow manage to choke out “It makes me happy that you’re happy”

You can see him trying to fight a smile, “Thank you for saying that”.

You wanted to stab someone. But you opt for gently brushing a base colour across his eyes.

“Do any of us know her, by any chance?” You ask cautiously.

“I dont think so. We met through mutual friends at a Christmas dinner, we didn’t start talking till she had to bring me a bunch of papers I’d left at my mom’s that day.” his face depicts someone reminiscing a fond memory.

It was cute, how it seemed like fate was trying to bring them together. It would've been cuter if you weren’t in a one sided pining with one of the two lovers.

“Well, I hope it works out for the both of you”

No you don’t.

“I hope so too”

You don’t hope that at all.

You felt guilty, feeling all of this. Hated that this was your first response to him wanting to be happy. Never would you have imagined stooping this low, hoping his happiness doesn’t work out for your sake. You’d like to owe it this being your first real infatuation, but you can’t help but wonder if this was really what you thought.

You decided to focus on the good news for today, that you’re finally allowed to do your actual job. You can only hope this wasn’t a temporary advancement, allowing time to tell.

Things remained the same the following day, much to your absolute elation. You were done doing 4 people’s makeup and was just winding down to take a break, quite satisfied with yourself. You observed as the rest of the boys got their hair done and run around, half in their outfits. You stifle a snort as you watch Jeonghan hide Minghao’s socks in his pockets as the boy tried to find them to put his shoes on, the former continuing to sip on his coffee seemingly unaware.

“Y/n, have you seen my socks? The green ones with the leaves on it?” Hao inevitable asks you.

You’re forced to feign confusion when Jeonghan pokes his head behind him signalling you to keep up the charade. He continues to look and you’re just about to have mercy on the poor boy before a to-go cup of coffee is shoved in front of your face.

You look up at the person and it’s Mingyu extending his arm at you expectantly.

“Oh, I didn’t order anything” you start, thinking you’re clearing up a confusion.

“I know you didn’t, got one for you anyway.”

There’s a record screech in your brain as you absorb his words.

“Think of it as me trying to repay the favour”

Oh. I see.

You’re a little embarrassed thinking he’d get one for you in that way, not when he had someone waiting on him. You accept the cup and mumble a thank you as he unexpectedly plants himself on the couch next to you.

“I saw you drinking lattes a lot of the times, so I just got you that. Hope that’s okay”.

Your silent for a moment before replying “Yes!” a little bit too loudly, eyes widening a little realisng your lack of volume control.

He knows your coffee order.

“Yes,” you say again in a normal tone and a slight laugh to cover up your inability to read the room, “They’re my favourite actually”

Kim Mingyu knows you like latte’s. This wasn’t good for your delusional brain.

Your conversation is cut short when the boys are called for roll call before they can prepare for the actual stage. You watch him get up and leave to file into the overstuffed elevators, not before he throws you the most adorable wave you’ve ever seen. You can’t hold back your smile as you wave back and look down at the drink he got you before taking a sip.

***

As it turns out, you did makeup for the rest of their comeback season, and Mingyu, without fail, got you an iced latte every single day before leaving to go on stage.

You tried to get him to stop, but he was rooted in his position and you didn’t have it in you to say no to his pleading eyes. It was a re-charge for you, when you’d seen him break into a happy smile, prominent canines that you’d grown to adore. He’d done more than enough to ‘repay’ you for swearing to secrecy, and you felt like you too, should should repay him the balance.

So here you were, making banana bread in your kitchen again, careful to remember to crack your eggs on the rim of your mixing bowl instead of slamming them on the counter. You’re stirring the flour in when a classified devious thought occurs to you.

These past two weeks were pivotal for both you and Mingyu, daily coffee’s meant daily conversations, which meant getting to know one another more. You’d exchanged phone numbers in the midst of all of this, to which ensued the agenda of staying up till midnight talking to each other about the meaning of life.

Setting down the whisk, you pick up your phone and sent the text before you chickened out.

[You]: I have a surprise for you.

[You]: You wanna come over? It’s better enjoyed fresh lol

[Mingyu]: Ma’am? 👁👁

[Mingyu]: That sounds a whole lot like a booty call

[You]: *attachment*

[Mingyu]: IS THAT CAKE??

[Mingyu]: omw 😮‍💨

You send the location and set your phone down, a jittery feeling going through your entire body. There’s a spring in your step as you slide the loaf into the oven and set a timer. You turn around your kitchen island and register the pigsty that is your apartment. The girls were over the night before and you had done nothing to enlighten the aftermath, pillows strewn across the entire living room and snack wrappers in places you’re not sure how they landed.

By the time you’re done and spritzed the place with some of your nicer perfumes, your taking the loaf out of the oven and on a rack to cool.

Ever the punctual man, you hear the doorbell ring just as your taking your oven mitts off.

Hoping you’ve done enough to your apartment to save yourself from embarrassment, you collect yourself and open the door for him through your ringcam. He’s barely through when your rushing towards your doorway.

“Hi!”

“Hey,” he grunts as he tries to slip off his shoes.

“‘aight, where’s my cake?” he demands once he’s done giving you a quick hug.

You roll your eyes and usher him to the kitchen, “First of all, appreciate how excited you are to see me, and second, its banana bread not cake, sorry to burst your bubble”

He responds to your grumbling with an “Oh come on, you can't put freshly baked goods on the agenda and expect me to pay particular attention to anything else”.

He has his trademarked grin and cheesy stare out on display like its nobody’s business, you want to slap it off of him in the most loving way possible, but you settle with a tiny “shut up”.

“I brought warm coffee this time, thought it’d go better” He sets the to-go carrier on the kitchen counter, following you to where you were attempting to slice the still hot banana bread on a tray.

“Oh, that was a good idea” you say.

“Where’re your plates and forks?” he asks, pulling out the drawers and cabinets you signal to.

It all felt too domestic for your weak heart to handle. Not to say it didn’t warm you to the core how comfortable he felt in your space, you did, more than you’d care to admit. But he needed to tone it down before you required an organ transplant.

You were seated on the floor, butts parked on floor cushions, backs against the couch. The coffee table held all of your goods while you both argued on which movie to watch.

“I can’t believe you haven’t watched any of the Harry Potter movies! No, we’re watching philosopher’s stone, I don’t care!” You shout in disbelief, already typing it into the search bar on the TV.

“Philly-philo- bro I can’t even pronounce it why would I watch that?!” He yells back, snatching the remote from you.

You’re both a giggling, screaming mess on the floor as you keep trying to steal the remote from each other, not stopping until one of you bumps into the table and you almost spill hot coffee all over yourselves.

You decide to call a truce and pick another movie entirely.

Just as you’re pressing play, Mingyu takes a bite of the still (surprisingly) warm banana bread and you watch as his eyes roll to the back of his head.

“This is so good” He says, his faced furrowed as he goes in for another bite. “Did you lace this with something, why is this so good?”

You’re biting back a snarky remark but you let it rip anyway; “It’s cuz these pretty hands made it”

You splay your hands out in front of your face, like your showing him your rings, fingers wiggling and a cheeky smile on your face.

He looks unimpressed as he scoffs. He swallows before saying: “At least you didn’t call the secret ingredient love or something”

“Excuse you, I’m pretty sure I heard you say that in some Gose episode” You remark.

He turns to you, all smug: “So your saying you watch Gose? Like, regularly?”

You immediately turn away from his taunting smirk, “Sometimes, if it shows up on my home page”

You take a sip of your latte before he asks you another sweat producing question.

“Oh, but you pay attention to me the most don’t you? Don’t you?”

He’s poking fun at you, you know that. But a paranoid part of you can’t help but think he’s onto you and your feelings.

So you say something maybe a little bit below the belt.

“You sure have a knack for seeking validation from the world when you have a partner already giving that to you”

The words tumble out of your mouth before you know it. In your defence, you're doing this for a greater cause, but it's still a relief when you see him comically gasp, hand to his diaphragm.

“Just because your alone in life, doesn’t mean you need to be salty about other people receiving actual love” He spits back.

Your sputtering trying to think of a response. Deserved.

He grabs a slice of the bread and shoves into your mouth to shut you up once and for all. You’re left chewing the mouthful and staring at him in shock.

He giggles and takes a sip of coffee, satisfied with himself. When he sets it down he opens his mouth to speak. Closes it again, like he re-evaluating, and finally decides to say something. He’s serious now.

“Ji Eun and I, decided it wasn’t gonna work out between us”.

Oh.

“Oh.”

He blows a raspberry and lets out a meek laugh.

“Yeah, oh. It’s whatever, it wasn’t meant to work out. Better sooner than later.”

You’re trying to find the words to reply or comfort him.

“Do you wanna talk about it?” You ask him, being careful to not lace your voice with pity, but more neutral and open. “You don’t have to, obviously, but it might be better to talk about what’s bothering you”

He pauses for a moment before starting.

“She wasn’t sitting very well with the idea that she had to share me. Like at all. She wouldn’t say it but she’d get mildly infuriated when I’d blow the fans a kiss or something, or interacted with the staff too much. I was getting home quite late certain days during comeback season and I’d find her outside the dorm at like 11 PM. It was embarrassing when all of the other members would see her there, obviously upset and basically yelling at me for, for - for literally just doing my job.I guess all the smaller things just started piling and she couldn’t take it. I tried so hard to make sure she felt wanted and secure in the relationship but nothing felt like it was ever enough. She was evasive or confrontational all at the wrong times and it came to a point- its a horrible thought to have in a relationship - but I was terrified she’d do something rash and I’d wake up to my face on articles for some reason - again”

You recollected the past couple years when Mingyu was thrown around in the media for a new accusation seemingly everyday. You weren’t involved with anything regarding the industry back then, but you’d heard enough news to be aware of what was happening.

Your heart swelled with sadness as you heard him talk, he sounded like he was trying- trying hard to be good enough. All for a person who seemed to have their priorities set somewhere else.

“She was amazing; kind and happy and confident. She treated my parents with respect, she was best friends with my sister. I know we only lasted like 3 months but at some point I really considered that she could be the one. But then the problems started and I realized she was only becoming an added factor to stress and anxiety for me more than anything else.

“I liked her because she was so family oriented, and I thought that was what would fit me because I’m like that too. But, I guess I’m just a different kind of oriented? I don’t know. I have a job that’s both interpersonal and unpredictable. There’s days where I don’t wanna get up and do work but I still love it nonetheless. I guess she just expected me to have a predictable, stable 9 to 5. Home in time for dinner, not requiring interaction with too many people; basically everything I can’t be.”

He’s silent for a moment.

You start talking after a couple beats.

“I really hope you aren’t taking this like it’s your fault. She made a choice to put up with your work, knowing how it would be for the both you. You tried your best but she made you feel like your best wasn’t good enough. I dunno about you, but that sounds like a really problematic conclusion. If she truly cared for you and what you love, she would never have been this unsupportive or not understanding”.

He’s listening to you, his expression is blank but you can tell he’s absorbing your words.

“I’d like to think I had realized that. But being completely honest, I’m not really sure when my thoughts go back to me thinking I’m the problem all the time.”

He manages a smile, a wide one, as he looks up to make eye contact with you; “But I know it’ll take me some time to really start believing that it’s not entirely my fault. We just weren’t compatible, and that’s fine. We left on good terms, and I’m happy about that.”

You smile with him as he finishes, but your a little confused when he starts sliding closer and down the cushions.

He sets his head on your shoulder.

You may have shortcircuited right then and there.

“Is this okay?” he asks you quietly, attention finally diverted to the half played movie.

You realise he asked you a question and you have to answer.

“Yeah, this is fine” You breathe out, somehow, by the graces of God himself.

No, you weren’t fine at all. You felt like the universe had flipped a faulty switch, mixed up the scripts, lost the plot, something. But as you get used to the weight of Mingyu’s head on your shoulder, you pray it won’t come back to haunt you in another chapter.

***

Your routine became inverted in the sense that, what you once had to plan out so intricately, is unfolding with no effort from you at all.

You find that Mingyu waits for you to be done with somebody else so you can do his makeup, instead of sitting on another free chair. He’d come to you specifically to touch up his makeup instead of going to an artist he saw closer to him. He never forgot to get you a coffee whenever it was that he saw you.

Mingyu hadn’t slept over that night, instead leaving in his car despite the 1 AM drizzle and your insistence for him to stay until the pour recedes.

Maybe it was better for you that he hadn’t stayed that night. Something about how you grew so close ‘organically’ made you feel like this wasn’t all in your head, that he’s choosing to be your friend.

You’re handing him his clothes as he begins to change, using the excuse to whisper to him;

“I was gonna try a new brownie recipe tonight, if you’re free you can come over?”

“I think I have somewhere to be after this but I’m free after, How’s 6?”

So there you are, back in your kitchen folding chocolate chunks into your brownie batter while waiting for Mingyu to get here.

Your phone dings from the island and you check to see a message from Mingyu sending you what looked like a grocery list; pasta, oregano, garlic…

[Mingyu]: Tell me what you don’t have from this

[Mingyu]: I’m at the store rn hurry up

You send him a list of what you don’t have, realising he intended to have dinner with you too.

[Mingyu]: k thanks

[Mingyu]: be there in like an hour

There’s a warm feeling that’s swelling in your chest, that makes you wanna punch a wall because your so happy. You choose self control, mostly because this apartment is on a lease but also you’d probably break your knuckles trying to punch anything harder than a foam mat.

By the time Mingyu’s here, the brownies are in the oven and you’re almost done with the icing. He unpacks the groceries (and the warm lattes) he bought while you finish up, confirming that he was trying a new pasta recipe tonight. Setting the brownies and coffee down on your usual coffee table, you decide wait a couple hours before starting on making dinner, instead choosing to hear him ramble about an idol he met at an award show.

“So, we start talking before we’re ready to go up- you weren’t there you were working on wonwoo’s makeup- and he starts complimenting me and so obviously I start complimenting him back”

He’s waving his arms around, and setting positions with coasters on the table trying to explain the setting.

“He asks me if I have a sister and I’m like… yes? Which I should’ve realised where this was going because he then” - he pauses to take a deep breath - “this absolute asshat decides it’d be funny to ask me for her number because apparently ‘if you’re this hot, I’m sure any sibling you have is too’ BRO, WHY THE FUCK WOULD YOU SAY THAT - how are laughing at this?!”

You calm yourself down for a second to clarify, “NO! It’s just hilarious how he thought that was okay to say”

You’re still still giggling in shock when Mingyu calms down, now also laughing incredulously.

“But actually though, please tell me you smacked him” you manage.

“I would have,” he grumbles “I got called to fix my hair cuz I ruined it or something”.

“Oh well, now you know who to avoid next time,” you say as you guide a bite of brownie into his mouth, “Forget about it now, eat sugar, it’ll help”

He chews a bit before swallowing, all while you’re watching him with an endeared smile on your face.

“Y’know, I really thought you didn’t like me when you first joined the team”

You pause mid sip of your coffee, brows furrowed, “What do you mean?”

“You never really talked me, did you? You were friendly with the rest of them but it just seemed like you never wanted to enter a room if you saw me there”

You’re looking at him in utter shock, this man was mistaking your avoidant (yet also pushy) teenage crush behaviour for dislike.

He’s looking at you expectantly, a little pout on his face.

“I never disliked you, why would you think that? I promise everything was a coincidence, it was nothing like that”

“Don’t get so defensive, kinda obvious you like me now if not before” He laughs at your panicked expression.

He meant platonic like.

“I’m sorry I made you feel like that though, I’ve been told I have a pretty serious resting bitch face, it’s gotten me in trouble before” she smile sheepishly.

“It’s fine, you made up for it with that first banana bread” He says before taking another bite of brownie, “Could use more chocolate chunks”

You snort before pushing him with a sock clad foot, “Appreciate me even giving them to you”

You fall back to the adjacent sofa.

It’s quiet for a moment. But you feel like something’s shifted in the air.

You watch as he brings his hand to the same foot, holding onto your ankles. He’s caressing the exposed skin with his fingers, moving them back and forth. His eyes are glued to yours, looking like he’s in a trance. You’re not sure how to register this new change in mood, suddenly feeling like you need to turn the aircon on during the bleak Seoul winter. Just as you're hoping you don’t start sweating, you feel his vice grip on your ankle pull your leg over with a sharp tug. You scream as you lose support of the sofa and fall back.

You sit up in shock to find him leaning with his elbows on the floor, cackling like madman.

“Mingyu, what the fuck?”

“You-” He stops to laugh again, “You should’ve seen your face, PLEASE, it was hilarious”.

You huff before getting up shoving his shoulder with your foot again, “You’ve been playing guest a little too long, maybe it’s time you get started on that pasta”

“Will I be blessed enough to be receiving her highness’s help?” He asks.

He looks like a dream, clad in his T-shirt because he claims he doesn’t get cold. Hands behind him on the floor to give him support as he stares up at you, smiling wide. He’s looking at you with eyes full of stars and glitter.

You muster up the courage to give him a nasty glare, to which he huffs at and gets up, “Such a meanie”.

It’s hard to conceal your smile as his back his turned, sachaying towards the kitchen. You want to slap him and kiss him at the same time.

Your washing veggies in the sink when you turn around catch sight of his back as he stood at the kitchen island, sorting the rest of the ingredients. You get the same overwhelming feeling in your chest again, assuming you’re deluding yourself into thinking this is what life could be like with him. In less than 3 seconds, you’ve conjured a timeline of domestic routines, to wind down with him like this every evening.

You’re still lost in thought, still incessantly staring when he turns around and catches you in the act. He does the rude thing and snaps his fingers in front of your face to pull you out of your thoughts, “You okay?”

“Yeah” You say trying to gloss it over while busying yourself trying to find your cutting board.

“Are you sure? Do you wanna sit down at the island and watch me instead. You don’t have to help -”

“Pick a knife, and shut up dingus, it’s fine”

Once your both done eating and cleaning up, Mingyu hugs you goodbye, not before asking if you’d be free for lunch next week before he got busy the following month. You quickly agree, setting a date and time, bidding your (reluctant) farewells.

***

Once back in your apartment you realize how you can’t clean up to distract yourself because Mingyu took it upon himself to clear the space with you before he left. You sigh loudly and retire into your bedroom where you don’t have to think about how empty your living room is.

Changing into your pajamas and putting a headband on, you don’t even feel like turning your music on to do your night routine. You double cleanse, tone, serum, acid and moisturise your face with added purposefulness, taking note of the crevices of your nose and the neglected bottom of your chin. Taking extra time to make sure all of the foam is out of your skin before drying your face with a tissue.

You look at your fed skin in the mirror, and feel a weird surge of tears well in your eyes. Before they can fall you slam your bathroom cabinet to busy yourself to find your melatonin gummies, shoving them in your mouth before switching off the bathroom light and retiring to your bedroom.

Slipping the headband off and sliding into bed, you’re still chewing your gummies to a paste in your mouth. Trying not to notice how heavy you’re breathing you try to find your white noise machine, the one you found advertised for infants, and turn it on before grabbing your book to read for a few extra minutes.

Your staring at the pages like you found them to be blank. You’re phone dings next to you, signalling a notification.

Picking it up you find your mental health app sending you a daily reminder.

You’re allowed to feel your emotions.

***

Winter had run its course as you find yourself in April. You never really liked the cold, having been more sensitive to a gust of wind than the average joe, you were better suited to sitting with an aircon instead of being unable to move in the middle of Korea’s January cold rush. But alas, the cherries are blossoming and your fingers have defrosted.

That isn’t what’s on your mind right now though, as you’re standing in a Sephora, arms crossed and shoulders tense. You loved shopping for makeup, but you mostly chose to do it online unless you really had to otherwise. Parking yourself in the perfume section with the scents mixing together a cocktail of nosehair doom, you really wish you’d worn a face mask. Not to mention the migraine inducing coloured lights and mainstream pop playing in the background (you swear they’ve been playing Side to Side by Ariana Grande on loop since you got here).

These were all, however, peripheral observations for you, as you stare in absolute pneumonic shock at the number written on the price tag of the perfume you’re looking at.

Now, Mingyu is a man of class, high maintenance if you will. You’re well aware he likes to spoil himself, because he has a bank account to back it up.

Your bank account is definitely full and secure, but not enough for you to justify dropping what seems like half of its contents to something only one of the five senses can experience.

Mingyu mentioned in passing how he wanted this perfume a while ago, and knowing that he hadn’t ordered it for himself just yet, you decide to be the amazing friend that you are and surprise him for his birthday.

You may be regretting that right now, but you tentatively pick up the blue, crystalline bottle and spritz a bit on a paper strip before taking a whiff. It smelled good, that’s for sure, and it suited him too. So when the saleslady came to offer assistance, after you excused the last three, you decide you’re going to do this for him.

“Yes, could I have this in the box please?”

Walking back to your car you feel a bount of jitter run through you,

Oh, he’s gonna freak out when he sees this.

He did, in fact, freak when he saw it, and his reaction made you want to give him all of the good things in the world if you could see him like this all the time.

He’s smiling ear to ear and speaking in that high pitched voice that he gets when he’s excited. He’s thanking you over and over again, smoothing the box over in his hands repeatedly, looking at the ‘from: y/n :p’ with hearts in his eyes.

“I’m gonna save this for the rest of my life” he says, with determination and a goofy grin.

You snort at the declaration, “Sure, bud”

“I’m serious. What, you wanna bet?” he replies, taking a sip of his, latte, which you proudly credit yourself for swerving him over from Americano’s.

He insisted on going out to eat at this fancy French place a day before his actual birthday as he’d be busy on the day of, but it was risky for him to be seen eating out alone with a young woman at such a fancy place. You settled for a nicer traditional Korean restaurant, that allowed you to book a room away from possible prying eyes and one that you were both comfortable with. You decided to wait till you were back in the car with your post dinner coffee’s to give him his present.

“I’m giving you 3 months before that bottle’s dry to the dregs” You affirmed, “You smell like you empty half a bottle of something off your dresser everyday anyways”

You said it as an insult, but jokes on you because you loved the way he smelled.

“Fine, I’m gonna use this so carefully I’m not replacing it for at least a year”

“A year? What happened to the rest of your life?” you refute.

“I have you for that, don’t I”

What the fuckity fuck.

He’d turned to you, leaning on the headrest, that signature cheesy look; like he was in love or something. Voice dropping a couple octaves as he said it, laced with something defined and strong - enough for it to feel like the weight of an elephant had dropped on your chest.

You gather yourself after looking at him for a couple seconds, jaw unhinged and forgotten on the floor of his car. You chose to grab your cardigan that was neatly folded on the dash, and astral project it to his face across the seat. He’s laughing so hard there’s tears glistening in the corner of his eyes. He falls forward and you see strands of his hair fall to his face, he’d been growing them out.

“Shut up” you grumble in your seat, annoyed at how easy it was for him to send your heart through and beyond your chest.

He’s still giggling like a school girl, and you cave and give him a hint of a smile.

“There it iiiis” He announces, grabbing your face and smushing your cheeks together.

For a moment, he stops to look at you like this, like he’s contemplating. For one, brain rattling, organ exploding, microsecond, you think he might even kiss you.

Instead, he headbutts you slightly rubbing his head swiftly before letting go.

“I might need to wash my hands, I think I got your makeup on me” He mumbles, looking at his hands like a child with mud soaked palms.

“Serves you right, you buffoon,” You remark as you pull out your trusty travel pack of makeup wipes.

Yanking one out of the tab, you pull his hand over and try to wipe the remnants of foundation off, starting from the heel up to each individual finger. It’s silent as you concentrate on getting it all off both hands, he was wearing black tonight and knowing him he’d rub his hand over his pants and get beige foundation all over. You knew because you’d seen him do it one too many times.

“All done” you quip, looking up and catching his stare. He’s smooth to slowly look away and retract his open hands from your lap about 5 seconds after it became noticeable.

You busy yourself by attempting to stash away the wipes to throw out later, closing the pack of wipes and shoving them back into your bag.

He’s watching you do all of this, his stare is burning holes into the side of your head. He’s desperate to say something, but you’re not sure if you want to hear.

“Let’s go back to my place. We’ll stick a candle into a sheet brownie and call it your birthday cake. Oh, we can pick up ice cream too!”, You say, costuming your voice to sound unaffected by his vibe.

And so you did stick a candle in the fresh batch of brownies you both made at 11PM, two hours before his actual birthday. Sitting across from each other on the counter, Mingyu has his eyes closed shut, hands clasped, wearing a ridiculously coloured ‘BIRTHDAY BOY’ headband you found somewhere deep in your drawers.

“You’re gonna get wax on the brownies and they're gonna be inedible, hurry up” You groan, after everytime it seems like he’s done, he clenches his eyes shut again as he remembers another thing he has to wish for.

You’re not actually annoyed, he looks the cutest he’s ever looked, but you would appreciate non waxed brownies.

When he’s finally done, he blows out the singular candle and you clap lightly, “yay!”

You’re pulling out the candle and grabbing forks, dumping a couple scoops of ice cream on before you two start eating straight out of the pan.

Its a collection of groans as you both collapse on your couch, regretting eating all that so soon after dinner. He changed out of his dinner outfit to a T-shirt and pajama pants, he’d started keeping a set of clothes in his car when it started to become routine for him to spend regular evenings after work at your place.

You’re in your own unicorn pajama’s, slumped over on the arm rest slightly. You feel Mingyu scooch over to put his head in your lap, claiming he was “closing his eyes for a minute”.

You knew how lightning fast he passes out, so not even 5 minutes later you start to hear his light snores. As much as you want to wake him up to move him to the bed, you know he can’t stay the night. His birthday meant he had to be with the boys, and needing to head out early tomorrow.

So you give him 10 more minutes, fingers tracing the shape of his features, in his soft hair massaging his head with your nails slightly. He had a little pout on his face as he slept. Things had been hectic for him lately, having a comeback later in the month and the plethora of music and variety shows to follow.

Mingyu had been writing lyrics on the kitchen island one day, sputtering random words as you quipped in rhymes of your own without context, stirring the pot of soup on the hob at the same time.

One particular rhyme you spew out catches him off guard and he barks out a laugh at the ridiculous combination.

“I should put you on song credits for this”

“What do you think my producer name could be?”

He thinks for a second, “Banana bread sounds stupid, um, how’s brownie?”

“Cute, and serious enough” you agree, “I’ll be expecting to see my name on that album, sir”

Snapping out of your thoughts, you turn your attention back to the sleeping man curled up in your lap. You wonder if you could fall asleep on the couch too, keep him here with you for the night. Be a little selfish. It’d be nice, making waffles for breakfast when morning comes. But he needed to be at the dorm in the morning, the boys knew where he was but managers that’d come pouring in at 7 AM sharp, did not. And it was best kept that way. The last thing Mingyu wanted, you knew, was people getting the wrong idea. The thought stung a little bit, but you knew not to mix your hopes with what reality was giving you.

So you gather the courage to slowly reign him back from dreamland.

***

Your sitting with Mingyu and Seungkwan on the couches outside the dressing rooms, a little bit before they have to go to perform. You were done with your agenda and was waiting for them to start filing out before beginning to pack up.

“No, because why does he get to eat all the good stuff right out the oven and we don’t, that’s not fair” Seungkwan complained loudy to you, a mildly offended look on his face.

“Stop being such a complain bot, you’re never happy if I have nice things” Mingyu retorts, increasingly nasty looks being exchanged for an argument about freshly baked goods.

“Oh, I’m the hater?! Let me jog your memory, who was the one sulking and shoving me around when Y/n wouldn’t let you-”

Mingyu had jumped up and pulled Seungkwan into a headlock, his poor Americano half flying across the hall as he yells out in disarray.

“YAH!” cued with more noises of struggle and muffled threats.

You chose to embrace the violence by sitting in your seat and laughing as Vernon recorded their antics from the doorway inside eventually circing them for his supposed cinematic effect, catered for the inevitable weverse post that was to come.

Cut to them apologizing and cleaning up the mess of coffee and disregard.

You decide to be nice and attempt to make peace by reassuring Seungkwan, “Come over after you’re done promoting this week, I’ll make up for all the bread and cookies you missed out on”

“If you've finished with your escort duties Y/n, could you please come in and do your day job?”

The voice came from the doorway of the dressing room, your senior makeup artist standing there with her usual mildly inconvenienced expression. It took you a minute to fully understand what she meant by that sentence, your body completely still.

“Offended? What, like I’m wrong?”

You were no stranger to insulting behaviour in work places, but they’d always been revolving around your actual job description. People who didn’t like you knew they had to be smart on how they treated you regardles.

This was different. This felt like you were projected back in time to your solemn middle school days to mean girls taunting you about your spongebob socks, except multiply that by about a thousand.

You feel your stomach begin to churn as that nauseous feeling of shame began to settle itself into your veins.

You’re not sure how long you’ve been sitting there but when she slightly raises her voice; “Are you getting up or not?” your hands actively begin to tremble the slightest amount.

You’re making moves to get up by puting your coffee cup down, not knowing what to do except follow commands.

Your interrupted by a voice from behind; “She’s coming in, give us a minute”

Mingyu’s standing there, his expression stoic as Seungkwan and Vernon looked as stunned as you felt. You don’t register it in the moment, but the people in the hall, venue staff and those for other artists have also silenced, watching the scene unfold.

Her lips are in a tight line, her expression remaining irritated as she steps back inside the room.

You realise you need to do something to diffuse the escalated situation. Letting out a breathy laugh, you get up and tell them that you’ll be going inside, trying to keep your expression pleasant and unaffected, not waiting before turning around to spare them the burden of a response. People get yelled at everyday, and this is no different. You aren’t gonna be the one to make a scene out of a regular occurrence.

You know what's coming when you get inside, she’s waiting as she pulls you aside.

“Your behavior has been quite concerning recently, let me remind you of your place here and what you were hired to do. You've been dilly dallying with people who aren't even your friends, and its quite funny that you’d think they are. It's time to wake up from wasting your time making heart eyes at men who are way out of your league. I won't tolerate any more nonsense from you, and trust I won’t be this nice or forgiving the next time this happens”

You choose to nod your head.

“That’s another thing, use your own words. Don’t think other people are gonna be there all the time to speak for you” She spits out, her professional front slowly eroding the more she spoke.

“Yes, ma’am” You say, hoarse voice.

“Louder, next time”, she stalks out as majority of the people in the room also begin to leave for the filming downstairs.

You’re left standing awkwardly in front of the racks of clothes, trying to digest what just happened to you. Looking around the room, you try to figure out what your supposed to do.

Clothes on the couches, eyeshadow brushes on the floor. There’s a torn sponge resting underneath one of the chairs, a couple styrofoam boxes left on the tables from lunch.

There’s so much for you to do, you arent sure how you thought you had time to sit down and chat. But you’re not sure where to begin either. The room is a mess of smells and colours even without the buzzing noise of people getting ready. Tears begin to form as you try to navigate what you’re supposed to do, realising you can’t possibly find a starting point for any of this mess. Before you have time to think of anything else, a hand is holding onto your wrist, small and soft.

It’s Yoona, another one of the makeup artists.

“Y/n, I think it’s best if you go home, it’s been tiring.”

“But-”

“Don’t worry, I’ll handle her. Just trust me. Go home you’ll feel alot better”

She notices you hesitate for a second, and goes in to give you a hug.

It felt nice, to be hugged by a friend. For some reason, it didn’t feel like she was pitying you, her expression and aura reassuring you that you didn’t have to stand here alone.

“Whatever happened today shouldn't have happened, but you don’t need to think about that right now. Go home and do nice things for yourself, we’ll figure it out later. You have my number, give me a text once you get home. We can go out later if you want, when I get off work, to get your mind off things”

You’re not sure how you’re holding back the waterpark that has become of your tearducts as you hear those words from an unsuspecting friend, you nod with a smile. You feel a little more calm.

You can’t tell if you care enough to consider the consequences of your senior finding out how you’re doubling or nothing on your already posed humiliation. But the only thing you can think of right now is your bed and the ceiling you’d stare burn holes into.

So you, for the first time in a while, chose to choose yourself by picking up your satchel and leaving the chaos behind you as you walk to your car.

***

Just because you were brave where it mattered most doesn’t mean you weren’t allowed to cry.

You had come home, shot Yoona a brief text, and promptly began to sob the absolute Nile into your sheets.

You had never cried like this before, loud wracked sobs coming from a place in your chest you had locked away during a time you couldn’t even remember. You’re breathing after every choked cry is a sputtered intake of life, only to spit it back out as you let out another sob of what sounds like agony. There’s nothing in your head, nothing but the words that were spoken to you as echoes of your own mind. Hypocritical of you to hate them when the same words circled in your head like a mantra every cursed, unfortunate day. She had done you a favour, by spitting out the truth you’d stewed, chewed and kept in your mouth ever since you got here. This was a you problem, to believe that you were capable of things beyond your bracket. You were told by the universe, screamed at by the world, that this was never meant for you, and you chose to ignore it. You chose to be stubborn. You brought this misery upon yourself.

Once you’ve disposed your body weight of tears and snot and burden, you’re left to stare at your innocent sheets now stained with mascara and your sorrows. You crawl into your covers and rest your muscles for a few seconds, head empty. You aren’t sure when you drift off, but you're glad that you do.

You don’t dream for once.

***

You wake up feeling like you drank a gallon of water and went to sleep. Your eyes, nose and throat feel like they’ve been over watered yet dry at the same time. You don’t realise what’s really arising pangs of irritancy in your brain once you figure out the consistent sound is a door bell. You’re doorbell, of the house that you live in.

You’re slow to push yourself up, realising your slept in your day clothes. It’s dark out but you're not sure what time it is, and quite frankly, you can’t say you care enough to check. You need to silence your doorbell first, which can only be done by silencing whatever hell sent individual was playing drums on the button outside.

It’s a record screech in your brain as you peer through your peephole and realise who the aforementioned hell sent individual was.

Mingyu was outside your door.

You don’t realise you look like you crawled out of a sewer till it’s too late and you’ve already opened the door through muscle memory. Mingyu was always welcome in your space.

He was in casual clothes, his hair pushed back from the guessed hands that ran through it, but he was still in stage his stage makeup.

“Oh, were you sleeping?” He asks, eyes a little wide, expression cautious.

“Yeah.”

“I’ll go then, you weren’t answering your phone for anyone and you told Yoona you were home but you weren’t opening the door, i was worried. Sorry I ringed it so much I probably should’ve assumed-”

He stops to look at you, and it’s like realizes something before he finally says; “Just wanted to make sure you were okay, I’ll see you around. I’ll leave you alone”

“Wait,” you croak out, licking your lips, conscious of your morning voice, “Can you stay? Please? If you can.”

He stops to look at you, expression changing from sheepish to defensive.

“No! I mean, yes. Yes. I’ll stay. I’ll stay for as long as you want”

You let him in as he slips off his shoes and you lead him to the living room. His presence in the familiar place seems like it last happened eras ago, when he was only here maybe a week prior.

“You know where everything is, I’ll be back gimme like 5 minutes”

You’re scared to look at yourself in your bathroom mirror, so you don’t, and choose to scrub your face looking down at your sink. You change into a sweatshirt and trouser loungewear set, deciding to save your dignity a little bit further as you brush your hair and clip it back with a claw clip.

You take a breath before entering the living room again.

He’s sitting on the floor in your usual place, two steaming mugs on the coffee table, the tabs hanging out of the cup. He made you tea.

You sit down next to him, not really prepared for what you should be saying.

“How long has she been speaking to you like that?” He asks you quietly.

“She was always kinda itchy and uptight and stuff but, it was never like this” You say.

“Regardless, whatever that was, it was, wrong, uncalled for, all of those things” He says, sputtering a little bit.

He stops and sighs. It’s silect for a minute before he turns in his seat to face you, grabbing your folded legs and pulling you to face him too.

“Yoona heard everything she said to you after you went in, she heard it all. And she knows about some other stuff too. If you think, even for a second, that I’m not your friend, I might actually think there’s something wrong with you.

“If everything we’ve been through this past, almost a year, doesn’t amount to us at least being friends then I don’t know what it means to have one at all. You’re the first person in a while I’ve been able to be this open with. You know me better than most people, you’ve seen me at my worst and at my best. I’ve let you read me all you want, because I know I can be an open book if it’s you. I trust you more than I can trust myself sometimes, and I really wish you would trust me too.”

You’re watching him as he says all of this, you look up to make eye contact a couple times, and he’s looking at you everytime you lift your head.

“I do trust you. Probably more than anyone else. It’s myself I don’t trust. It’s hard for me to open up, I’m scared I’m gonna say something that’ll scare you away. And, I just thought maybe she was right today, that I need to realise that it can’t be that way between us, I have a job to do”

“What can’t be between us?”

“I like you, Mingyu. Like, I’m basically in love with you and have been since I fucking met you. I couldn’t believe that you could possibly be friends with someone like me, a confused, all over the place airhead who can’t tell right from left sometimes, forget you ever liking me. All that happened is that we became friends and I thought that this was as far as fate was gonna push us. All today told me was that … that was an overextension too. It was a wake up call that I can’t have everything in life. Things were going too well for us and I was letting myself think it could stay that way forever. I’m sorry for being this way, I’m sorry for making you feel uncomfortable and out of place. This is the last thing you’d want to hear from a friend and I’m sorry I’m putting you in this situation right now and that you had to go through that today-”

You don’t finish what your saying because you're interrupted. Interrupted by arms pulling you forward and into Mingyu in front of you.

Your both sitting in your living room at 3 AM, on the floor in front of your sofa like you both have so many times. Except now, Mingyu is holding you in his arms, and kissing you so delicately it hurts.

It’s warm, like getting into bed after a long day, the scent of home and security engulfing you as you begin to forget about the qualms of life.

He’s moving his lips slowly, with care and a feeling so overflowing you can’t describe.

He lets go slowly and rests his forehead against yours, his arms are around you tight, legs wrapped around your entire body so you can't escape - physically or mentally.

“You dumbass” You hear him say.

“I love you,Y/n. More than anything. And I need you to know that you don’t have to hide. If you think your thoughts are a burden then I want to carry it for you. I want you to realise you’re not alone. I want you to stop pushing me away. Everytime I want to do something nice for you, you try to push the effort to something else, everytime I try to take care of you, you have this look that makes me think you feel guilty for taking up my time or something. Everytime I think you’re about to ask me to stay the night, you remind me I have priorities and I should go, even though I know you want me to stay with you. I want you to stop caring so much for how other people feel and realise you can demand the same from the universe too. You deserve love and to be treated with care. You need to let people do that for you, love.”

Your looking at him now, your turn to have stars in your eyes.

He loves you.

And you feel it. You feel it in his words, in his eyes, in the kisses he’s leaving on your face, in his arms that are wrapped around you, ready to shield you from the world.

You don’t say anything as you fall into his chest, head on shoulder, relaxed body in the cage he’s made for you. You close your eyes as the tears are burning down your face. Except, this time they’re because your relieved.

You both got up from the uncomfortable floor and moved to your bed, still tangled within each other as you clarified everything else.

You found out that majority of the people who heard it were very upset at the situation, but didn’t know how to approach or confront her.

Seungkwan almost bust a blood vessel after he had digested what had happened, disbelief and threats on his tongue as he refused to get touched up by her during filming, apparently making a point to walk to somebody else. Seungcheol was thinking of trying to bring up the problem to management, considering how Mingyu too was distracted all the way home.

“The rest of them have gotten quite protective of you too, I think. It’s not like I shut up about you”

Apparently the only reason you were asked to start taking charge on makeup was because some of the other senior artists pressured your mentor to stop restricting you. It made you feel a little more secure that it wasn’t just you that felt pushed down.

She didn’t like that you were doing so well, considering it meant she was wrong about you and your abilities. It hurt her ego a little bit that people stopped preferring her to do their makeup or their touchups, how they wouldn’t interact with her the same way.

“Alot coming from a middle aged, married woman, attention seeking like a child” Mingyu added, scoffing with a sour face as he nuzzled into the crown of your head.

“The boys really like you by the way, they’ve been rooting for us since forever” He says, and your heart swells unimaginably so; you felt loved, so so loved.

You scooch up to plant a kiss on the underside of his chin and then one on his lips.

“That makes me happy”

“I’m happy that you’re happy. You deserve to be happy, everyday” He smooches you on the face again. “Oh, and don’t worry about that stinky face I’ll take care of her”

You laugh at the determination in his voice, but you wanted to clarify something.

“Please, let me handle her myself. I’ll ask for help if she’s stubborn but I wanna try by myself first”

“That was hot”

You push his chest away as you bark out a laugh at the random comment, hiding you face, by turning the other way.

He battles that by pull you back into his chest and continuing his atics

“What I can’t call my girlfriend hot. You’re hot. Your the sexiest motherfucker I’ve ever seen” smooch “You’re beautiful” and again “amazing” and again “gorgeous spectacular-”

You don’t fall asleep until the sun has well made its way up the sky, taking the executive decision to sleep in till way past lunch and maybe even take a nap afterwards.

You don’t care how it goes, because your happy just being with him.

***

You met with Yoona a couple days later at a cafe.

“Seungcheol asked us if we were facing the same kind of behaviour from her too. And everyone told him she was stuck up and rude and stuff. He said he wanted to bring it up to management but it didn’t really concern him directly so they wouldn’t listen. He told us to do so ourselves and we thought about it, but we’re gonna need to tell them about that too”

You nod your head as you listen to her speak, it was making sense.

“I dont mind going up to management at all and talking about it. I get that the rest of the stuff is a little too tame to be considered, which sucks because she shouldn’t be talking to us like that at all”

“Mhm, and I was thinking we could vouch for you on how she was restraining you for almost a year. Basically not letting you do your job. That’d be a another thing for them to think about”

“Yeah. Let’s do it asap, how’s this Monday?”

“Perfect, I’ll add everyone to a group chat and let them know”

And go up to management you did, who were surprisingly understanding. Apparently having received multiple reports and even videos of the most recent incident to act as proof. It was working out for all of you, and it proved to stay that way as they responded with a promise to shift her to a different department.

You had gone home that day feeling fulfilled and relieved. Mingyu, a man with spectacular timing had also proceeded to send you a text as a distraction,

[Mingyu]: Kwan wants to come over

[Mingyu]: something about croissants

[Mingyu]: Should he text you ab it?

[You]: yeah ofc

[You]: I’ll order the butter

[You]: you tell him to text me lol

Two nights ago felt like it happened last year with all the unimaginable advances deciding to happen within the past 48 hours. Right now you were more excited for the company you were about to recieve, more concerned with making sure you made the best batch of croissants Seungkwan ever did see.

***

You were in the car with Mingyu outside the company building, waiting until the clock struck 9 to go inside.

Today was the last day you’d think about this, being called up for a face to face meeting with the staff member, so she could formally apologise. The team had planned a dinner tonight, to celebrate the end of her ‘wicked reign’ as Yoona described it.

You were finding friends everywhere, ones that were always there, pulling through for each other as you yourself navigated a new direction of thinking for yourself. You were learning to walk past your anxiety ridden desire to draw lines with everyone, as you took the first step with the dinner tonight. It would be fun for you, and a bond you’d begin to build.

You learned that you weren’t delusional anymore, and that Mingyu did love you the same. It had only been a week or so, but one of the happiest weeks of your life, despite everything. He was teaching you more lessons than he thought he was.

Mingyu squeezes your hand from the driver’s side as it was past 9, “Let’s go?”

“Lets go”

***

Mingyu’s way too enthusiastic as soon as he wakes up, indulging you in a morning (afternoon) makeout session, claiming he doesn’t care for you morning breath.

“Well I do!” you exclaim, pushing him off with a giggle “About your morning breath, stinky”

He clutches his chest in dramatic offense, “How could you? I thought you loved me”

You respond my projecting a cushion to his face.

“Do you want pancakes or eggs for breakfast?” You ask, legs hanging over the bed.

Mingyu looks up, a wicked glint in his eye, and you immediately know he’s going to say something of no help.

“I want you for breakfast” He says, grabbing you by the waist and pulling you back in bed.

“MINGYU!”

Needless to say, all was well.

#seventeen #carat #svt #svt fluff #svt scenarios #svt imagines #seventeen fluff #mingyu #mingyu fluff #mingyu angst #mingyu fic #mingyu x reader #mingyu imagines #mingyu scenarios #kim mingyu #svt x reader #em.writes

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paloma-ascends-into-hellfire · 10 months ago

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eating disorder harm reduction

no one ever compiled this so that it what we are doing today. for people with eds and people whose loved ones do. please note: i’m not a doctor. this is a compilation of things from books and ed resource sites.

for people whose loved ones have an eating disorder:

try to make sure they know these things.

try not to force them to eat, they might feel uncomfortable eating in front of people. also, risk of refeeding syndrome.

if their life is in danger and you are seeking help for them, consult the person beforehand to make sure they will be safe and give them a heads-up so that they aren’t startled (especially if they’re neurodivergent! giving them notice will aid control!)

offer them ways of controlling things aside from food - practice consent, include them in conversations, don’t talk about them behind their back, compliment their makeup or hair.

be patient. the person may be irritable from lack of sleep, feelings of depression, worthlessness, etc., or malnutrition.

keep in mind that you can’t tell if someone has an eating disorder by looking at them. people of all weights do - only 17% of anorexics are underweight - and also, men and non binary people can also have eds.

general:

drink lots of water, especially if you’re drinking lots of caffeine.

drink some electrolytes at least once a week - gatorade, electrolyte tablets, coconut water, doesn’t matter, just get it into your system.

if you are getting dizzy or flushed and can feel your heart beating, quick carbs will raise your blood sugar - sweets, bread, fruit, juice, non diet soda, whatever. keep snacks around pls.

your brain uses 400-500 calories daily. eat more than this.

take your supplements!

you still need protein, have an egg or something.

don’t take adderal or insulin unless you are actually diabetic or neurodivergent, because you are raising the price by buying them and denying access to those who need it.

throw a towel over the mirror. it’s not worth it if it’ll cause you anxiety.

try to limit disordered behaviours like body checking, purging, and weigh ins.

practice good dental hygiene.

put your scale somewhere where you have to actively look for it to weigh yourself.

avoid social media and for your sake don’t go on pro ed tiktok or tumblr or twitter or insta.

get a buddy who also struggles with the same thing if possible to support each other.

get regular medical check ups (if you can afford it)

practice things within your control - makeup, hair, clothing, etc.

push your rules - eat 5 minutes before your time, or 50 calories over your limit.

for people with restrictive disorders (e.g. anorexia):

do weight and resistance training at least twice a week to prevent musculoskeletal conditions such as osteoporosis.

don’t drink on an empty stomach.

try to put gaps between fasting periods.

don’t fast for more than 72 hours.

wear lots of layers to keep warm.

eat an extra 100-200 calories on your period if you menstruate.

have a metabolism day.

take care of your hair.

as horrifying as this is to many people, please go to the hospital if you’re experiencing heart problems or if you’re passing out for more than 30 seconds.

for people with purging disorders (e.g. bulimia):

if you would like to purge, wait 15 minutes first.

after purging: drink lots of water - the emptiness you feel is dehydration. don’t brush your teeth but rinse your mouth out, preferably with an alkaline mouthwash or baking soda mixed into water. do something you want to do, like reading a book or watching a show. don’t smoke. don’t have anything acidic. eat a banana or some chocolate or a rice cake to keep your blood sugar levels in check.

if you vomit blood or your vomit looks like coffee grounds, this is a sign of internal bleeding. you could be drowning in your own blood from a hole in your esophagus, essentially. go to the hospital or call 911/999/the emergency number in your area.

stay safe everyone. i hope this helps. also, i do not use these tags - i have them blocked - but i am using them so that people on these tags will find this because they need it most.

#ed harm reduction #harm reduction #ed recovery #pro recovery #notpro4n4 #tw eating disorders #tw ed not ed sheeren #pro a4a #ana trigger #ana rant #tw anorexia #tw bulimia #anamia #⭐️ving #edhr

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bloodyknucklesforme · 3 months ago

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Red Summer | Ghoap x F!Reader | Slasher!AU

After breaking up with your long term boyfriend you take a job working as a camp counselor in Northern Vermont. Seven weeks of swimming, volleyball, archery and hiking. There's even a hot lifeguard. It seems perfect until you find something evil is lurking in the woods

Tags: Slasher AU, Ghoap x Reader, intro chapter, nondescript reader, dark fic

cw: vaginal sex, oral sex, dub vouyerism, gore

Chapter 2: Time After Time

previous| next

You had never had a nightmare like that before. Something so vivid and horrific. You kept running your hands over your stomach, expecting to feel an open wound or even a scar. It was nothing but smooth flesh with splatterings of freckles and stretch marks.

You walked shaky legged into the bathroom, stripping down and stepping into the cold water. It all felt so real. You kept pinching your arms, thighs and stomach - making sure you’re real. That you’re not dead. That your insides are still on the inside.

You heard your name being called in the main room. You shut off the water and wrapped yourself in the old fraying towel you brought. You grabbed a particularly heavy shampoo bottle to use as a weapon just in case.

“There you are,” Johnny smiled with relief when you poked your head out of the bathroom. “Missed ya at breakfast… what’s wrong?”

He was alive. He was alive and standing in front of you. No blood on his hands or fear in his eyes.

“I just had a really… really fucked up dream last night.” Your voice croaked.

“Oh Bonnie. You’re okay. It was only a dream.” He opened his arms to you and despite not knowing him and being practically naked you accepted. He smelled like sweat and cheap cologne. “First day anxieties, yeah?”

You nodded softly, choking back tears. It was just a dream and you were so fucked up by it. Your face heated up at how pathetic you were being.

“You get dressed and I’ll grab you something to eat, okay?” He patted your back. At least you hadn’t dreamt up how caring he was. He made sure the door was shut before heading out.

You went to grab your STAFF shirt and recoiled, remembering it was what you wore in your dream. You grabbed a different top and pulled on some old jean shorts.

“It’s not high protein but I got ya instant oatmeal and a banana.” Johnny called through the door. “You decent?”

“Yeah. I’m good.”

It was the kind with dinosaur eggs in it. You mixed it about till the eggs melted to reveal brightly colored sugared dinos.

“We have orientation to do.” You said softly, eating another spoon full.

“I told Warren we’d be a wee bit late. Said you found a snake in your cabin and needed me to rescue you.” He chuckled, bumping your shoulder with his.

“Thank you,” you smiled meekly.

“You want ta talk about it?”

“Huh?”

“Yer dream? What got ya so freaked out.”

“Oh… uh… it was like a movie. Just some man was going around killing people. He was wearing this skull mask and he…uh… he stabbed me.”

“Might have watched too many movies before getting here.” He rubbed your shoulder. “I promise if a masked killer comes running around I’ll keep ya safe.”

He waited with you until you finished eating. Out of the corner of your eye you could see him bite at his nails. Any time you looked at him he’d give you a soft smile that didn’t quite match the anxiety in his eyes.

You made the motions to get through the afternoon, unable to shake the unease of deja vu. Sophia kept trying to open you up with jokes and little nudges and looks as the boys bonded.

Every time Sophia or Warren explained something you thought “I know this already” which only made the knot in your stomach tighten.

You felt calm once the four of you reached the lake. They were talking while you walked down the dock. The air felt cooler the further out you went.

You took off your shoes and socks and sat down to stick your feet in the water.

There’d been a lake in your home town and during the warm months you used to ride your bike down to sit at the beach. It was more dirt than sand but that just meant it attracted less people. On the other side was the nice beach with lifeguards and playgrounds and paid entry. On your side it was just you and the occasional fisherman. It was peaceful there and now with your feet in the water you felt that peace again.

“Yer gonna get burnt.” You jumped at Johnny’s voice. He was standing a little ways behind you, bottle of sunscreen in hand. “Sorry, didn’t mean to scare ya.”

He sat down next to you. His shoes and socks sat next to yours. You took the bottle and began reapplying to your arms.

“You still freaked about that dream?”

“A little. It just felt so real… and I don’t know. Maybe I am just paranoid. I never really did camp when I was younger.”

“Sleeping somewhere new can always mess with ya head a bit. When I was in the army you slept when and where ya could. Never really felt rested.”

“Do you get nightmares?... I’m sorry that was stupid to ask. You don’t have to-” Your face felt hot.

“I do. Sometimes. Took this job to get out of my head a bit.”

“Is it working?”

“No,” he laughed. “But there’s a whole summer left.”

“That is true.”

You laid back on the dock, letting the water lap against your shins.

The two of you missed lunch but made it back for the rest of the day's schedule. The afternoon passed over easily. You tried to stay out of your own head but Deja vu kept tying knot after knot around your brain.

There were blisters on the back of your heels. You chewed on the inside of your cheek as you applied band-aids for seemingly the second time.

You had minimal service but enough to get out a short text to Ale.

‘At camp. I might not be able to talk to you for a while but when I’m back I hope we can talk.’

It felt a little pathetic. He broke up with you essentially. ‘A break’ is what he called it. He was leaving for the Summer too soon enough. Helping out his childhood friend Rudy at his ranch down in Mexico. He originally wanted you to come with him. See where he grew up, meet his family and friends. You thought maybe there was a ring hidden among all those plans. You guessed you were wrong.

You missed Johnny as you walked up to the dining hall for dinner. You didn’t really feel like talking but it was nice to be talked to sometimes. He was already seated with another girl. You felt a little twinge of jealousy. He’d spent most of the morning attached to your hip but it seems you were already forgotten.

The unease of the day made you decline any invites to drink or sit by the fire.

“I think I'm just gonna walk for a little bit. Just get some air before going to bed.

“I can come with you,” Nat offered.

“I think I’ll be okay. I’ll bring a flashlight. I’ll probably just go around the soccer fields and back.” There were a couple light posts out around the area. Not super bright but enough to find your way back.

It seemed to be tempting fate to go out alone. It also seemed to be the only way to knock this anxiety out of your head. Life wasn’t a movie. Masked killers were only in movies. If this was a movie you’d be in Mexico planning out an outfit to get engaged in. You were in Vermont as far away from Mexico as your credit card could take you.

You did a lap around the soccer fields and you survived.

You did another one just for good measure and you survived again.

You thought about doing a third but it was dark and your feet ached and you only wished to tempt fate so much.

You could hear people yelling as you walked back to the cabins. Your arms and legs prickled. You weren’t close enough to tell if it was laughing or not. You turned off your flashlight anyway. You stepped off the path and walked on the grass to quiet your footsteps just in case.

Running footsteps came past you, the runner breathing squeakily as they disappeared into the dark. They were trying to be as quiet as they could, an animal running from a predator. Something out of a nature documentary when the herd scattered as the lion went for the weak.

You crouched down as you made your way closer, keeping out of the light. Your flashlight was heavy; it could be a weapon if needed. Ale, had taught you how to punch before.

This was a poor way to find out you were possibly psychic. You should have let Nat come with you. You hoped she and the other girls got away. Maybe you could find Johnny again. If he really did have a gun, you wouldn’t even need the keys. The flashlight could break the window of his car. He was trained for this. If you found Johnny you might survive.

The fire in the center of the cabins was still going, still bright enough to illuminate the carnage. Three bodies laid around with trails of blood leading in all directions. None of them looked like Johnny.

You crept along the back of the cabins towards Johnny’s. There was a scream in the distance and your stomach flipped. You peaked around the corner. No one.

You winced as the door creaked open, checking around you once again for any signs of life. If Johnny wasn’t here maybe you could still find his keys. You didn’t know which car was his. But keys could fix that. Keys got the car which got you the gun. Simple. The parking lot was about half a mile away. You could sprint there. All those leg days at the gym with Alejandro would pay off.

He had a backpack on the floor. Old paperbacks, sketchbook, pencil pouch, lighter, a pack of cigarettes, condoms, a folding knife (you put it in your pocket), a thong (jesus christ Johnny), and finally the car keys.

The floor creaked behind you. You flipped on your heels, getting the knife out much faster than you expected to.

“Shhh, bonnie. It’s me. It’s me.” Johnny hushed, crouching down to show his face in the light. He was covered in blood. “Let’s get out of here, yeah?”

“You’re hurt…”

“Not mine. Was helping Nat out a window and… he got her.” You bit back a cry. She could have been with you right now. Johnny beckoned you over. “Let’s go. We can make it to the lake.”

“No.” You shook your head. “The gun in your car. I have your keys.”

“What gun?” He frowned, “I don’t have a gun.”

Idiot!

“It was my dream,” you bit back another sob. “Oh my god.”

“Hey, it’s okay. You have my keys? We can go but we have to go now.”

He grabbed your arm and pulled you to your feet. “Don’t stop running.”

The two of you took off towards the parking lot. He was faster, more agile. You tripped over rocks and your feet were on fire. You heard larger footsteps running behind you. Your heart beat matched your steps. Just keep running. Don’t stop.

Johnny ducked down ahead of you. You weren’t sure why until it hit you. A razor thin wire cut across your throat, having been tied across the path. How did he see it? You hit the ground hard, throat open and gushing. You gasped as blood filled your lungs. It’d cut deep.

A pair of boots stopped one on each side of your head. You glanced up. The skull faced man from your dream. You couldn’t even whimper before an ax came swinging down to split your face in two.

You screamed, rolling out of bed and thrashing about in your sleeping bag. Sophia came running in from the bathroom.

“Are you okay?” She asked, helping you up. You couldn’t breathe. Hyperventilating hard, your legs couldn’t even hold you up anymore. Sophia had to drop you onto the bed. You couldn’t form words just open and close your mouth like a fish as you struggled to get enough air. Your body felt tight and disconnected from the rest of the world at the same time. “I’m gonna get help, okay?”

You heard her run off, your eyes glued to the old wooden ceiling. You could still feel it, the wire across your throat. The way your skull split open.

More footsteps. A hand wrapped around yours.

“Hey, bon. It’s Johnny. I’m right here. Sophia, can you get her water? Thank you.” The door opened and closed again. Johnny climbed up on the bed beside you and helped you sit up, shouldering your body weight on his side. “Try to match my breathing. In…out…in…out. There ya go.”

You followed, your shoulders relaxing as more air traveled through your lungs.

“Good girl. That’s it. Just keep breathing like that. Try squeezing my hand as you breathe, focus on that. Yeah, that’s it. Good job.” His hand was real, it was here, it was wrapped around yours. You smelled his cheap cologne, felt the heat of his skin against yours. He held some little white disc up to your mouth. “You like mint? Just suck on it. Always helps me.”

You opened your mouth and he laid the mint on the edge of your lip, holding his hand out in case it fell. It was peppermint, reminded you of Christmas and toothpaste.

As your heart calmed, your embarrassment flared up.

“I’m sorry,” you mumbled.

“Nothing to be sorry for, bonnie. I know what a panic attack is.” He rubbed your back. “Do you want to talk?”

“I don’t know what’s going on. It’s like I’m having dreams within dreams.”

“What do you mean?”

“Today’s sunday?”

“It is.”

“In my dream it was sunday but in my dream i’d woken up from another dream where it was Sunday. And…and each time there was this man and he…he killed me.”

“Steamin Jesus.” He wrapped an arm around your shoulder, “That’s awful. I get why you’re so freaked.”

“I’ve never had anything like this happen before. It just felt so real. And you were there. Both times we were trying to escape and he got me. It sounds like a fucking movie or something but he got me. He wears this skull mask and he has an ax or a machete. Everyone was dead.”

“Shhh, it’s okay. Don’t work yourself up again. S’just a dream.” He took a deep breath at the end. “S’just a dream.”

Sophia let you spend most of the day inside your cabin with Johnny.

“Just try to relax. Anything you missed, we can go over later. I promise it’s not that big of a deal.” She squeezed your shoulder. She was kind enough to bring you breakfast. Dinosaur oatmeal, coffee in a styrofoam cup and a couple granola bars. “There’s better service in the parking lot if you want to call anyone.”

She meant Ale. He’d pick you up if you asked. Drive all day, you could spend that night in your old apartment. Despite everything you knew he still cared about you. How many years had you two been together again? It seemed like it would be forever. Maybe he missed you as much as you missed him.

“Thanks. I’ll remember that.” You smiled up at Sophia.

“Just holler if you need anything.” She took a quick glance at Johnny and then back to you, her voice getting quiet “or if you want to be alone.”

You turned away from her like it would stop your face from getting hot.

It was nice of Johnny to stay with you.

“Don’t want you to feel like yer alone,” he’d said. He was laying down on one of the camper’s bunks, flipping absentmindedly through one of the books you’d brought with you. He didn’t seem to actually be reading it. You could tell from the look in his eyes that he was elsewhere, like he was staring at the white spaces between the words rather than the words themselves.

“Do you want to go for a walk?” You offered. He perked up like a dog.

“With you? Absolutely.”

The two of you walked down towards the lake. You already knew the way. You weren’t sure how it happened but you were holding his hand the whole way there. The underpass was as wet and mildewy as it was in your dreams. You held on tighter to him.

You nudged him as you walked towards the dock.

“Race you.” You said, starting off towards the water.

“Ya cheated!” He called, laughing.

There was something about the sound of running on a wooden dock that took you back to your childhood. Running with childhood friends to fly off the edge into the water.

You ran till there was nothing under your feet, briefly gliding through the air until you hit the water, letting it engulf you till your toes touched the soft muddy sand at the bottom. Johnny landed next to you.

“You had a head start.” He laughed, splashing water at you. “Cheeky girl.”

“Figured I need it, considering your ex-military.” You splashed back, your handmade tidal wave coasting over his shoulders.

“C’mere.” He grinned, reaching for you under the water. He was a strong swimmer, diving beneath the water to pull at your ankles. You splashed him whenever he came back up for air, trying to make your way back to the shore, fighting against his attempts to pull you into deeper waters.

You liked water but hated sand. The way it stuck in every crevice and dried out your skin. It was only worse when you were wearing real clothes instead of a bathing suit. You didn’t mind it as much as you thought you did with Johnny rolling around in it with you.

He was straddling your hips, your hands locked together pushing against each other in a mock struggle. His wet shirt clung to his muscular chest and arms. The sunlight glimmered off the water droplets that fell from his mohawk.

You let him push your hands to the beach on either side of your head. He was handsome, really handsome. And nice which was always a plus. The accent was also very hot. You always liked a man with an accent.

You leaned up and kissed him. Short and sweet, really a peck more than a kiss. He tasted like lake water but what were you expecting? He kissed you back. It was hungry and passionate. You missed being kissed like this. His tongue swiping along your bottom lip till you parted your lips.

He held your neck, keeping you close to him. His tongue in your mouth, his other hand moving to grip your waist.

“There’s a hose round the back of the shed, if you want to clean up.” He had a wicked glint in his eye as he said that.

“You’re sure no one will find us.” You asked, as he pressed you up against the back of the shed.

“Promise. Just you and me.” He mouthed at your neck.

You were slow to peel off your wet clothes. He didn’t rush, leaning against the wooden wall, his own shirt already stripped off.

“Sorry, it’s nothing sexy.” You said, struggling to get your sports bra off.

“You are very sexy,” he said hoarsely. He looked at you for permission before slipping his fingers under the elastic band of your bra and pulling it up and over your head. You crossed your arms over your chest. “Getting shy on me now?”

“I haven’t been with anyone except my ex in a long time.”

“We don’t have to do this. I’ll walk away if you-”

“I want to. I’m just…I think I might have forgotten how to do this.”

“We can be slow. I don’t think anyone will come looking for us. It’s lunch time anyways.”

You let him lead. Let him kiss down your neck and collarbone down to your chest. Let him take one of your nipples into his mouth. Your head hitting back against the wall as he pinched your other nipple.

You could see his hard length pressing up against his shorts. It was big and made your breath hitch. How far would you let this go? You had no idea when the next time you could get laid would be. What about getting back together with Ale? What if he’d already slept with someone else? What if he hadn’t and wanted to know if you did? What if-

“Can I take these off you?” Johnny was knelt in front of you, tugging on your shorts.

“Please,” you whimpered. He was quick to pull down the wet clothing. He laid a kiss to the top band of your panties.

“Wish I could say you’re this wet for me,” he chuckled. “Tell me what you want, bon.”

“Take them off, please.”

“Good girl.” The way he said ‘girl’ caused heat to rush to your core. He peeled them off you, helping you step out of them and your shorts before tossing them haphazardly over a wooden crate. He mumbled, “They’ll dry.”

He pushed your thighs apart gently. His breath was shaky against your core. Your eyes met, his glassy, blue and blown out.

“You’re beautiful,” he grinned, lips glossy. He snapped his fingers, signaling for you to keep your eyes on his before he took your clit into his mouth. Your head hit the side of the shed with a dull thud, your eyes rolling backwards. He grabbed one of your legs and lifted it over his shoulder, snaking his arm around your other one to hold you steady.

He slid a finger inside, curling it up to press against your g-spot. He was groaning against your pussy, almost liked he enjoyed this more than you did.

He made you cum on his face as his fingers stretched you out.

“There we go. Good girl.” He kissed the inside of your thigh. Rising to his feet, he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. “Best meal I’ll have all summer, I think.”

You giggled, face feeling warm.

“You’re pretty when you’re flustered.” He took your chin between his fingers and tilted your head up for a kiss. It was salty and warm. “You want to keep going?”

“Yes.” You didn’t want to sound desperate but your knees were shaking and you wanted him, more than anything else in that moment. He shucked his shorts off before pinning you to the wall with another kiss. His cock was hot and heavy, pressed between the two of you.

He gripped the back of your thighs and hoisted you up. You wrapped a leg around his waist. He lowered you back down on his cock slowly, the head dragging against your walls.

You moaned loudly, nails digging into his back.

There was a snap. A stick breaking. Your eyes shot open, looking into the woods behind Johnny. You couldn’t see anything but that didn’t stop goosebumps from running up your body.

“Hey, look at me.” He guided your head back to him. “It’s just us.”

“Sorry, it’s just been a while since I’ve done this.”

“Had sex?”

“Had sex with someone I don’t really know.”

“I don’t bite unless you ask me too.” He grinned, still fully sheathed inside you. “If you want to stop just let me know, okay?”

“No… keep going. It feels good.”

“I’ll make it feel even better.” He nipped at your collarbone.

He kept a hand on the back of your neck, holding your foreheads together, stealing kisses after any particularly loud moan he fucked out of you.

The drag of his cock against your g-spot, his gentle coaching for you to touch yourself, his tongue in your mouth. It didn’t take long for you to build yourself up to another orgasm.

“Want you to come on my cock. Need something to think about the rest of the summer,” He grunted. “Need to see that look on your face again.”

“Johnny, fuck… Johnny please.”

He let go of your neck to push your hand away from between your thighs, forcibly taking over with fast circles around your clit. Your moans got higher, closer together, almost hiccuping in pleasure. Your head thudding against the shed, back arching as you came.

He kissed you as he pulled out and set you back on the ground.

“Do.. do you want to finish in my mouth?” He groaned loudly, slowly stroking his cock.

“Might not last that long if you keep talking like that.”

You sank down to your knees, his arm holding you steady.

“So pretty,” he said, dragging his thumb across your bottom lip and tugging your mouth open. Somehow a blow job in the woods felt more intimate than sex in the woods.

You took the head of his cock into your mouth, licking the precum off the slit. He held your cheek, his thumb gently rubbing against your cheekbone. It was a tangy mix of the two of you. You couldn’t take him deep, just towards the back of your mouth. It was enough for him to moan your name between curses though. He made a choking noise and filled your mouth.

He rested his head against the shed as you wiped your mouth.

“Sorry, meant to give ya a warning,” he chuckled.

The two of you stuck close together for the rest of the afternoon. You were met with raised eyebrows from most and a knowing look from Sophia. It wasn’t judgmental, almost like they were congratulating you on conquering him. He was your arm candy.

There wasn’t any of that expected awkwardness of sleeping with a coworker. Neither of you brought up the rest of the summer or what you would do after. You could both just enjoy each other’s company. Made it seem like you could move on from Alejandro. That it wasn’t the end of the world.

Johnny had his arm around your waist at the bonfire, his fingers fidgeting with the hem of your shirt. Blew out your flaming marshmallow when it started melting down the stick. From across the flames Sophia winked at you and gave an approving nod. You didn’t feel scared or anxious anymore. No nightmares could touch you.

“I think I’m gonna head to bed,” you yawned. You and Johnny were some of the last ones out. He was pointing out the different constellations. Growing up in the suburbs, you’d never seen this many stars before.

“I’ll walk ya.”

And he did.

The creak of the door closing behind the two of you. You wished Sophia wasn’t just a wall away.

“Thank you for everything… today” You chewed on the inside of your cheek.

“Can’t stand to see a girl like ya be upset.” He toyed with the end of one of your braids. “Can I kiss ya? Last one before those nosey buggers get here tomorrow?”

“Yeah, you can.”

He tasted like burnt sugar and beer. His hands on your waist, gliding up under your shirt to mold your skin around his fingers. The excitement of a secret summer fling made your heart sing. Something wild, adventurous and youthful. Something you’d missed.

There was a creak of floor boards coming from behind you. Johnny’s grip tightened around you.

“No!” He barked.

You turned just in time. It was happening again. The masked man. He had a machete in hand. In the light you could see the skull was sewn onto a black balaclava. Was it real?

Johnny shoved you behind him but Mask smacked him hard across the face, sending him to the floor. You screamed.

“Run!” Johnny groaned, blood pouring from his nose.

Mask grabbed your braids and yanked you backwards. Pain shot through your neck up to your scalp. He threw you onto the floor next to Johnny, knocking the wind out of your chest.

“I’m sorry.” He groaned, his hand groping for yours.

The first hit of the machete put you into shock. It didn’t hurt as much as you thought. You screamed more out of the horror of hearing your sternum break and blood erupt from the center of your chest.

“Simon stop!” Was the last thing you heard before the machete came down in the middle of your face, cracking your head like an egg against the counter.

Sorry this took so long. Kinda had a depressive episode that made it nearly impossible to write 🤷🏼‍♀️

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lunarloaches22 · 3 months ago

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Tagged by @thegayesttexan

Ten people I'd like to know better; There is some but argh the social anxiety

Last song; Yorktown (The World Turned Upside Down) from Hamilton

Favorite color; Cyan or indigo

Last book; Ashes in the Snow by Ruta Sepetys (a World War 2 historical fiction)

Last movie; Mutant Mayhem

Last TV series; Rottmnt (of course)

Sweet, savory, or sour; I love both sweet and sour (no preference) but I can't stand spicy things

Relationship status; Single and happy with that (aroace)

Last thing I googled; How to function in society

Current obsession; Rottmnt (of COURSE)

Looking forward to; Seeing one of my friends I have not talked to in awhile and telling her all about rottmnt as revenge for her hamilton hyperfixation

@lady-lily-the-goblin-witch, @banana-pancake5, @strwbryblade, @unjudgmentalnoob

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fleeglefazbeagle · 6 months ago

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Welcome to my blog! :3

Do you like videogames, cartoons, anime or artwork of ANY genre as long as it's made by a human? You've come to the right place! I draw whatever tickles me fancy, shitpost, rant, chill(mostly).💕✨

Above here is my self insert Sona(description in alt).⬆️

(I used the term "Mary Sue" in a silly way, no ill will whatsoever./srs)

I don't have a specific schedule, I just post whenever I like.

This here is what I am!(It's already said in my bio but whatever.)⬇️

(Blinkies by @dragonpride17 .)

I'm also a platonic selfshipper.

Strictly platonic f/os(in other words, we're STRICTLY friends, don't be weird):

Secret History Tails(Mashed), Glamrock Freddy(FNAF), Fizzarolli(Helluva Boss), Husk(Hazbin Hotel), Funtime Freddy(FNAF), Luigi(Super Mario), Goofy(Disney), Oswald the Lucky Rabbit(Disney), Big the Cat(Sonic), Fleegle the Beagle(The Banana Splits), Drooper the Lion(The Banana Splits), Mangle(FNAF), Circus Baby(FNAF), Mimzy(Hazbin Hotel), Banny(The Walten Files), DogDay(Poppy Playtime), CraftyCorn(Poppy Playtime), Spinel(Steven Universe), Gwimbly(Smiling Friends).

Queerplatonic f/os(I guess):

Mortality(Boozoo's Ghosts/The Walten Files) and Pumpkin Rabbit(The Mysterious House/The Walten Files).

Don't roast me!>:[

The stuff I'm into is FNAF, Sonic, FNF, The Banana Splits(show and movie,), BATIM, Steven Universe(kinda), SML and SMLwiki(kinda), Disney(kinda), Pokémon(kinda), Tim Burton stuff(kinda), Hellaverse stuff, Coraline(kinda), Super Mario, Don Bluth stuff(kinda), The Walten Files, DHMIS, Welcome Home, Pizza Tower, Poppy Playtime, Garten of Banban, MLP(kinda), The Amazing Digital Circus(kinda), Monkey Wrench(kinda), Little Nightmares(kinda) and the Mashed channel(the one with the crazed fox).

DNI if you're:

LGBTQIA+phobic, TERFs, SWERFs, transmeds, syscourse, pro-endo, m-spec lesbians/lesboys(not butch lesbians or he/him lesbians), an IRL gore blog, a SH/ED blog, disrespect people's pronouns(this includes neopronouns), sexist(misogyny and misandry), NSFW(kinks, fetishes, etc.), a zooph1le, a zoosad1st, a pedo(map), ableist, racist, xenophobic, anti-xenogender, anti-objectum, transabled, transrace(not the adoption kind), transage, a fan of Pretty Blood and/or support the creator), a bodyshamer, someone who invalidates trauma, a proshipper, a comshipper, a darkshipper, toxic(in general), a zionist, a nazi(or at least a supporter), pro-cringe culture, believe blackwashing is real(it fucking isn't), anti-therians, anti-furries, anti-semitism, anti-agere/agedre/petre/petdre, use "fatherless"/"parentless" as an insult, say "kys" as a joke(it's a very serious thing), joke about abuse, pedophilia or rape(another serious thing), anti-alterhumans, AI "art" and crypto and NFT bros.

Rules when asking or whatever:

1.Use tone tags(they're REALLY important).

2.No arguing.

3.Be kind to others.

4.No hate speech(you WILL be blocked if I find out.

5.No NSFW(I know I already said this but still).

6.I can only do art trades and if you want to ask about what you want, come to my DMs(ya know, the speech bubble icon).

7.If you want to do an ask involving any of my AUs, go right ahead but remember the rules and stuff.

8. As far as donations go.

My YouTube is here!(It's where my videos are.)⬇️

Also, please support my sister and her work!⬇️

@valkyriephoenix98

Her channel:

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sideysvault · 2 months ago

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࿔‧ ֶָ֢˚˖‧ Innocent echoes ࿔‧ ֶָ֢˚˖‧

Pairing: Roman Roy x fem!OC.

This fic is based on the work of the wonderful and talented @beechu-beechu, this story is all based on her OC, her beautiful illustrations and her story ideas.

wc: 1,200k

Tags: [sfw] Mature themes, Parental abuse, Suicidal ideation, Childhood friends, friends to lovers.

────────

Before getting inside the bush Roman looked over his shoulder to make sure no one was watching. It was five past six, still early in the evening, in a town in upstate New York. Inside the confines of the Terrace Room, yet another shareholder meeting was taking place. Outside, the extravagantly lit patio seemed peaceful enough.

The expensive setting, however, couldn’t hide the ghostly profile of the building against the sky. Echoes of the chatter inside could still be heard, barely, seamlessly merging with the chirping noise the crickets were beginning to make. Murky and gloomy, yes, but there was nothing in sight to fear.

With a new-found determination, the one stride of confidence that not being seen always gives you, Roman took a deep breath. He tried to concentrate on the nice earthy odor filling his lungs as he crawled under the bush.

The little rabbit, with its pristine white and as innocent as it looked, seemed to have a life of its own; Escaping from his grip, laughing at his inadequacy, forcing him to go further inside the wooden warren, forcing him to drag his limbs through the recently sprayed dirt.

The contained gasps that were coming out of Cecilia weren’t helping either. Roman felt the pressure to save the stuffed animal stirring in the pit of his stomach. It did not even matter if she could buy a hundred bunnies just like that one, CeCe’s earnest anxiety made him let go of his initial precautions and convinced him to push his face against the rootstock. With that move, Roman was finally able to grab the damn thing.

When he crawled out of the bush, all it took for him to know was one glance at his white trousers.

His father was going to kill him.

Rome almost forgot about the inevitability of the reprimand as soon as he felt the girl’s tight grip around his neck, as soon as he could smell how nice her perfume was. At the end of the day, that was all that really mattered. It had been worth it. Cecelia had given him the most sincere hug he would ever receive, and he was the one who got her plushie back to safety.

With all the tension suddenly off her shoulders, Cece was laughing all of her worries off, suddenly in a good mood now. She hugged him one more time, and thanked Roman for finding her bunny.

“Keep an eye out on your stupid rabbit”

────────

Cece and Roman were hiding inside the bathroom hall. Logan had taken a swing at his son’s face in front of everyone: Cecilia’s family, businessmen, the staff, and other clients. Roman had made the terrible mistake of ordering the most expensive thing on the menu.

The girl had initially thought a few meters and some walls may be enough to calm Roman’s nerves. However, even young as she was, she already had an increasing suspicion that fear was a cathedral of its own, insidious, indefatigable and inescapable.

“Your daddy is really scary, I’m so-”

“Shut up” the boy’s response was plagued with defensiveness. And it had only made his discomfort more evident.

Cecilia wasn’t sure what had hurt more, the humiliation or the ring on Mr. Logan’s index finger.

Roman averted his gaze in an effort to look anywhere but the girl's eyes, fixating instead on the ridiculous color of her puffy dress. While grabbing the back of his head with his hand, —partially to seem unbothered, but mainly to avoid letting her see the redness on his right cheek— he focused on the synthetic fabric on the skirt. How it weaved itself smoothly with a soft wavy pattern.

“Can I show you my plushie collection? I promise Banana will behave this time and stay close. You two can become-“

A soft smile emerged from his face. Cece was trying to make him feel better. She did not seem embarrassed for the redness on his face, she did not laugh the whole thing off, she seemed sincere.

“Okay, okay. Sure”.

────────

In the lead-up to their makeshift wedding, Connor and Willa decided to host their rehearsal dinner at The Grill. She wasn’t completely sure if it was the wedding itself that sickened her or if it was all the tacky 50’s-inspired extravaganza. Still, the end result was the same: Cecilia couldn’t handle being in the venue any second longer. Feeling her own neck contracting in on itself, squeezing the air out of her body, choking her and leaving her dizzy.

The only salvageable part of the ceremony was the expansive view of the midtown space that the balcony offered. And, while the martinis and the nicotine smoke obfuscated the pristine taste of the meal, she could still savor the rather tasty rib she had eaten earlier that night.

It was a nice taste to savor. The ideal last meal of many, she supposed. Taking a slow puff of her cigarette, Cecilia took morbid delight in parading near the edge of the deck. The water from the pool made a soothing sound, and it matched perfectly with the vertiginous view that plagued her vision. Would it hurt terribly? To slip into the opening?

“Hey, Holly! Are you done pretending you have the balls to jump off?”

Right. Rome. A smile replaces the troubled look on her face as she clumsily sits on the floor, carelessly removing the heels of her feet. They were in public, yes, but as usual, it did have a terrible importance to either of them. Cecilia tipped her toes inside the pool, but the weather had made the liquid impossibly cold.

She laughs. They must look pathetic. Taking another hit from the cigarette, she lets the sour taste of the tobacco ground her. She inhales and holds it in for a second, as she closes her eyes.

Cece can feel Roman’s poorly concealed worry wash over her. His puppy eyes disfigured with a frown that seemed of their own. Cecilia playfully blows the smoke on his face. He has nothing to worry about. Not today.

“Look, I stole a napkin” Roman had revealed it with a proud grin on his face. The woman lets out a snort, she can’t really help it.

With the swift changes on the breeze, they quietly decide to exchange tokens. Rome takes the cigarette off her hand and she further inspects the cloth. The small and ridiculously silver W&C on the left side of the tissue was rendered small when you compared it to the poorly drawn rabbit Roman had made with blue ink. The bunny was winking at her, and it wore the same white bow her plushie had all those years ago.

She smiles again, and he makes a point of avoiding looking at her now exposed thighs. The rising skirt seemed to go all the way up, exposing pulp flesh, which was filled with small patches. She must be starting to feel cold. Cecilia looks at him, once more, only this time shy teary pearls adorned her gaze.

Sitting on the floor, Roman hugs her by the side, and kisses her temple. He has nothing to worry about. Not today.

────────

Notes: I hope everyone enjoyed this! And I hope that I made justice to Beechu’s oc <3. (I took a loot of creative liberties) Have a great time and take care of one another, I’m not from the US, but my heart goes out to everyone who might be suffering from the election results. My dms are always open, you are not alone!

Pd: If you saw me take inspo from Gabriel García Márquez of all people for the first paragraph: No you didn’t. I’m sorry literature gods.

- Sidey xoxo

Anyways, Enjoy @beechu-beechu’s cool artwork tho:

#roman roy fanart #roman roy x you #roman roy fic #roman roy fanfic #Roman Roy x oc #Roman Roy x female oc #roman roy x reader #roman roy imagine #succesion roman x reader #succession hbo #succession x reader #succession #Rome Roy #roman roy #roman roy succession #succession fanfiction

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ashthewaterghoul · 3 months ago

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Perfect - A Swiss Ghoul One Shot

He was staring at his partial-element, when he heard the wind die down completely for a serene few moments where the noise of the gale was replaced by another, much higher pitched shriek. Swiss was almost not sure he heard it. But he felt something. That cloud of anxiety had lifted for a halting moment when it happened. It was a call in so many different ways. He got up and quickly yanked his sweatpants on before opening the door. It was still cold as fuck and the wind had picked right back up again. He stuck his head out and looked around, trying to see who or what may be nearby, calling for Mountain a few times too. But he saw nothing. Swiss thought about that noise he heard though, and looked down instead. Or, After months of gradually debilitating anxiety that seemingly came out of no-where for no reason, Mountain takes Swiss away for a few days in their remote cabin. They had both hoped it might get Swiss out his own head for a bit, away from whatever what causing this, but Swiss never would have expected for it to follow him up there, and certainly hadn't expected this...

Rating: Mature

Words: 3.9k

Relationships: Swiss/Mountain

Tags: Soft Swiss, Soft Dom Mountain for a sec, storms, non-sexual nudity, lil spicy scene, safeword use, implied polyghouls, Mountain nicknames Swiss with different types of cheese, anxiety, panic attack. Spoilers (don't look if you don't want) - Kitfic, accidental baby acquisition sort of, Swiss' horniness catches up to him.

Lil TWs for severe anxiety, panic attacks, a mention of disordered eating, subspace mentions and safe-word use. Don't think there's any other warnings but lmk if I missed any!

~~~~

Anxiety.

It was something that Swiss had, mercifully, never known too well. He’d always been confident, never had much so there was no fear over what he had to lose, and he’d always been easy going so there was never anything to worry about.

That was until several months ago…

Swiss had woken up one morning and just felt odd. It was like he was nervous but had no clue what about. It wasn’t too bad, kind of like when you misplace your favourite shirt and you hope you haven’t lost it. He tried taking a walk to clear his head, his usual “hobbies” for a distraction, then tried to get ridiculously high. But any and all effect was short lived, and that pit in his stomach only seemed to get even bigger and all-consuming.

It had started in March, and now it was January.

It had slowly and steadily been getting worse and worse until now it had gotten practically debilitating. To the point that small decisions were making him teeter on the edge of a spiral and everything just felt completely wrong. Nothing was enjoyable or simple anymore because it had been months of feeling like this and he had no clue why. It didn’t correlate with anything like his cycle or his elements flaring up with the changes of seasons - that sometimes put him a bit on edge, but never like this.

Read below the cut of on ao3

“What do you want for lunch, Switchblade?” Mountain asked gently, breaking Swiss out of his own mind for a moment.

“Uhh.” Swiss’ eyebrows furrowed, he felt like throwing up all the time so food always seemed like an impossible task.

“Something little? Like a bag of chips and a banana?” Mountain suggested.

Swiss had been eating less and less, and it unfortunately was showing. His thicker frame and gorgeous tummy had thinned out some. And despite a lack of energy, he wasn’t sleeping properly either, his eyes bruised from dark purple bags.

Swiss shook his head. Tears pricked his eyes and his chest started feeling way too tight. No breath wanted to grace his lungs and his tail fixed tightly around his abdomen in a desperate self-soothing attempt that had become all too familiar recently.

Mountain, instantly recognising his beloved’s panic attack, walked around enveloped him in a hug - tight enough to feel comforting but not too tight to restrict his breathing even more. He’d unfortunately had more than enough practice as of late.

“It’s okay, baby, it’s okay.” Mountain soothed, raking his claws over Swiss’ scalp, “Just breathe for me.”

“Ca- C- Can’t.” Swiss wheezed.

“Yes, you can. Just focus on me.” Mountain said, making sure to take deep breaths that Swiss would be able to feel and try to imitate himself.

It took a few minutes, but Swiss calmed enough that Mountain could let go.

“You back?” He asked gently, cupping one side of Swiss’ face in his palm.

Swiss nodded, “’m sorry.”

“You don’t need to be sorry.” Mountain assured, putting his forehead against Swiss’ and just breathing each other in.

Swiss’ hands raked up Mountain’s sides and slipped under his shirt, instantly bringing a purr from the Earth Ghoul. Swiss’ hands then started pushing under Mountain’s waistband of his sweats and boxers in one go.

“Hey, hey, hold on.” Mountain said, stopping Swiss’ hands with his own, “You haven’t wanted anything for ages. Are you sure?”

“Please,” Swiss whispered, “I just want- need to let go for a bit.”

Mountain scanned Swiss’ face thoroughly and only found pure desperation for his agony to stop. It was something Mountain had done plenty before – Rain suffered with a lot of anxiety and Mountain had become somewhat of an expert in soft dom-ing Rain so far into subspace that the Water Ghoul got to be lifted out of his body for a while. The look in Swiss’ eyes was exactly what he always saw in Rain’s.

“Okay, Starman. I’ve got you. Gonna take care of you, okay?” Mountain said, cupping Swiss’ face in both hands and kissing his forehead.

“Please, sir.” Swiss whined.

“You don’t need to call me that now. You can call me whatever you want, I’ll help you regardless.” Mountain assured.

“Mounty?” Swiss said.

“Yes, my heart?”

“I love you.”

“I love you too. And you are so strong for wanting to let go for a while.” Mountain said, not expecting an answer but needing to say it, “You don’t have to speak from this point on, not if you don’t want to. Just gotta keep your mind open for me, okay?”

Swiss nodded and did just that. Mountain held his face steady as the barrage of Swiss’ mental state hit him. He pushed it aside though, finding the part of Swiss’ mind that let them all telepathically communicate.

This thing on? Mountain asked, just to check, and smiled when Swiss’ shoulders shook in a small laugh and nodded.

“My room or yours?” Mountain asked, and Swiss wordlessly dragged them to the Earth Ghoul’s room.

Mountain went about what was basically the routine he had for Rain. He checked in with Swiss plenty, knowing how fraught it all was for him and how scary it must be. Mountain knew he had to live up to his nickname of “gentle giant” as he went about this. And he did. Every pass of his large hands, every swipe with his tongue, every touch of his lips was gentle and reverent, and every word and sound from his lips was full of praise. Swiss had been so good for Mountain, so so good that Mountain could hardly believe that it was the same Ghoul that had often been so bratty it had taken him several hours to tame.

In Swiss’ mind, Mountain could see how close Swiss was to that edge. This time not doddering towards a spiral, but towards the soft and cushy world of subspace. Once he was there, Mountain would get him deeper, getting him to stay there for a while. Slowly, he’d rise back out and he’d help him come back to this cruel reality. But as Mountain realised how close Swiss was to letting go, Swiss did too.

Mountain had been as incredible as always. But Swiss’ instincts had been prickling from the moment he felt himself start to drop and give in. He tried to ignore it, desperate for that complete freedom from his mind. He wanted it so bad, to just let go and not feel anything but Mountain. His anxieties though disagreed, screaming at him to stay here because maybe the cause for his angst would come about and what use would he be if he was out of it? Swiss was so willing and eager to let go, yet his mind simply forbade it.

Mounty?

“Yeah, baby?” Mountain said, breathless and slate-grey skin sweaty, but using his own voice to ground Swiss.

Red. Can’t.

Instantly, Mountain stopped moving, trying to hide his sorrow on Swiss’ behalf. They both know how bad he needs it, but obviously Mountain is going to respect his boundary.

“You’re such a good boy for telling me.” Mountain knew Swiss well enough to know that that was still okay to say.

Swiss whined at the praise though.

Not. ‘m weak and stupid.

“No, you’re not.” Mountain said, equal parts stern and loving, “You’re so strong. So unbelievably strong.”

‘m sorry. He sniffled, tears rolling down his face.

“Do not apologise, my love. It’s not your fault.” Mountain said, kissing his tears away, “Do you me want to…?” He gestured vaguely to where they were still joined.

Swiss shook his head and pulled Mountain down on top of him, crushing himself and essentially using Mountain as a massive weighted blanket. Mountain just laughed into Swiss’ neck, and complied with the Multi.

Swiss held onto Mountain like a lifeline and they stayed curled up for the rest of the afternoon. Aether had made a protein shake that Swiss had managed to slowly drink down. Obviously, it wasn’t enough. But Aether and Mountain praised him regardless because it was a big step for him.

“Swissy?” Aether said.

“Mhm?” Swiss responded.

“Do you think it would do you good to get away from the Ministry for a couple days?” The Quint suggested, holding Swiss’ hand and using the contact to gently dose him on some Quintosis to clear the fog slightly.

Swiss’s chest clenched at the thought of leaving but the same happened with the notion of staying.

“Dunno.” He said so smally. It was completely uncharacteristic for him and Aether and Mountain’s hearts both ached with it.

“You could go to the cabin maybe? Go by yourself, or someone with you? The whole pack, if you wanted.” Mountain suggested, his arm around Swiss’ shoulders.

Swiss relaxed slightly at the thought of their cabin. It was at the edge of a forest that the Ghouls loved to hunt in, and Mountain had built it himself from trees he had grown with his own magic. They loved going there for getaways alone, or with a few or all of them. Sometimes Copia came but that wasn’t a lot - he wasn’t quite able to keep up with his Ghouls when they’re let off their Ministry leashes. The idea of the fresh air up there, the peace and quiet, the privacy and tranquillity made Swiss’ heart flutter in a way it hadn’t for a while.

“I think you like that idea.” Aether smiled, also feeling the small weight lifting.

Swiss nodded bashfully and leant against Mountain’s side, “You come with me?”

“Of course, cheddar.” Mountain said, and Swiss gave a small laugh at the nickname.

So, the next morning they packed up for a few days, and paid a small visit to see Papa and tell him the plan. The man was very close to his Ghouls and knew the whole situation. He didn’t hesitate to agree, and told them to go.

Mountain commandeered one of the big 4x4’s to help cross the rough terrain as they neared the cabin, and Swiss DJ-ed for the two. Mountain kept his hand on Swiss’ thigh as much as he could, rubbing soothing circles in and constantly whispering praises for him - masterfully keeping Swiss in a state of submission so Mountain could take as much of the weight as he could, and while they both knew it was unlikely, Swiss could easily give into dropping completely if he wanted.

When they arrived, they both stripped off. It was their safe space that reminded the Ghouls of their old homesteads and dens in the pits, and in the pits, they were all usually in the buff. It only ever felt like the natural cause of things to do the same here. It also meant that as Mountain lit the fire, and Swiss settled into the furs of the nest, the Multi had plenty of skin-to-skin contact to try and ground himself with. The two laid glued to each other, wandering touches and lazily making out, not at all sexual, just wanting the comfort.

Although it did start to get late and their stomachs started gurgling.

“Do you want to come and hunt with me?” Mountain asked.

“Honestly, I think if I get blood on my fangs right now, I’m gonna hurl.” Swiss answered truthfully.

Mountain’s face twisted in concern because that was beyond abnormal for hellspawn, “Are you going to be okay by yourself for a bit?”

Swiss took a deep breathe, “I’ll be okay. Don’t bother about getting anything big, I won’t eat a lot, if at all.”

“Okay, gruyere.” He stole one last gentle kiss before getting up and starting to gear up for the weather outside. A snow storm was slowly building on the drive up and it was in full effect now. Luckily, Ghouls are a lot more durable than humans so it wouldn’t affect Mountain much more than just being really fucking cold and he did value his extremities.

Mountain left, and Swiss slumped in the furs. The nest felt way too empty without Mountain in there and so he moved to one of the armchairs by the fire place instead. The wind howled outside, and Swiss tried to let it lull him. He stared into the flames and watched their beckoning dance, reaching a hand out and using his own Fire affinity to play with them a bit more.

He was staring at his partial-element, when he heard the wind die down completely for a serene few moments where the noise of the gale was replaced by another, much higher pitched shriek.

Swiss was almost not sure he heard it. But he felt something. That cloud of anxiety had lifted for a halting moment when it happened. It was a call in so many different ways.

He got up and quickly yanked his sweatpants on before opening the door. It was still cold as fuck and the wind had picked right back up again. He stuck his head out and looked around, trying to see who or what may be nearby, calling for Mountain a few times too. But he saw nothing.

Swiss thought about that noise he heard though, and looked down instead.

It was entirely what his instincts told him it would have been, yet he never would’ve actually expected to see a kit, in their bassinet, on his doorstep.

Instantly he picked up the basket and brought them in. The kit was screaming their little lungs out and their lips, fingers, toes and tail were turning a concerning shade of pale grey from the cold. He sat the both of them in front of the fire and picked them up in their blanket, cradling them close to his chest.

And that cloud of anxiety that had been weighing down on him all these months, finally lifted now he finally had his daughter in his arms.

Wait, rewind that a minute… DAUGHTER?!

Swiss couldn’t believe it. Sure, they had always made jokes about how his lascivious lifestyle probably had given him dozens of kits he doesn’t know about. But that’s what they always were, jokes. With Ghoul biology, if it wasn’t his cycle, he wasn’t fertile. And even when he was in his cycle, Aether kept him dosed on a very specific type of Quintessence so there wouldn’t be any byproduct to his magnified horniness.

The Multi couldn’t deny her though. As soon as her little hand peaked out under her blanket and knocked against his chest, something in his soul clicked. He knew she was his. He could feel the mix of elements coming from her – Earth, Fire and Quintessence as the main ones. As he lifted her up closer to his face, she smelt like him. His scent was one of burning liquor and leather. Hers was also of leather, but instead of the spirits Swiss loved to drink so much, it was something more like warm spices. Gingerbread, Swiss came to the conclusion of. Such a perfectly cosy little bug with her slightly higher body temperature too. There was also the fact that as soon as she was in Swiss’ arms, she started to calm down instantly.

A quick check in the basket and folds of the blanket gave Swiss no indication of who her mother was, how she came to be, or even her name. Swiss’ Quintessence could tell she was about 3 weeks old, and for her to have been left in that storm for Satan-knows-how long, let alone anything else she had been forced to face, and the fact that she even existed, it was an absolute miracle that she was alive.

She was squirming again though, and Swiss instantly knew why. If her mother was human, then she didn’t know or wanted to keep her warm, if her mother was a Ghoulette, it was out of mercy for the cold or something crueller. Swiss didn’t dwell on it though as he took her little onesie off and cradled her in his arms again. Skin-to-skin with her father, she settled right back down again. He melted at the sight, and raised his own body heat to keep her warm, also making the fire burn a bit brighter too.

Satanas, everything felt so perfect now. And Swiss now understood why he had been so anxious for months. Ghouls were insanely protective and territorial, especially for their mates and kits. It was worst with Earth Ghouls, and Swiss’ Earth affinity was one of his strongest, obviously not helping matters. Somehow, their instincts always knew they had made a kit before they did. This started in March so with her being just shy of a month, it was likely that’s when she was conceived. Swiss’ anxiety was over not being able to care for her mother, to build her a birthing nest covered in his scent to keep anyone away, protect her as she gave birth and care for her and the kit afterwards. Well, that was even if it was a she. There were many identities in the Ministry and Swiss wasn’t exactly fussy…

That didn’t matter now though because finally she’s right where she should be. In Swiss’ arms, where he can nurture her and protect her.

“Hey, little one.” Swiss whispered, completely choked on every emotion you can think of, “I’m your Papa.”

Yeah, this felt right.

Swiss looked at the little Ghuleh. She had thick dark hair; her skin was a slightly darker grey too. She had two little mounds on her forehead where her horns would one day grow through and her tail had the beginnings of a very tiny spade. Her tail was waggling to try and wrap around something so Swiss helped out and coiled it around one of his fingers. Her eyes cracked open, and while far from being fully developed, her irises were bright and shining gold, instantly hypnotising Swiss into doing whatever he could for her. Her round cheeks pulled up into a toothless grin and Swiss laughed.

“I definitely can’t deny you, can I?” As if he would ever want to.

She squawked in delight and kicked her tiny feet.

Swiss would be lying if he said he’d never thought about kits. He just always figured he’d make a terrible father, having way too many unhealthy vices and his behaviour not being mature or domestic enough at all. Then there was a pressure of choosing his kit’s mother. He had a few mates within the pack who had the right anatomy but none of them wanted kits, at least not with any particular urgency. And even if they did decide to have them one day, they’d probably choose a more responsible father like Aether or Mountain. Swiss just never let himself think of it because he figured it would never happen.

But, one thing he did have was a list. It was buried in the bottom of his notes app and hadn’t been opened for a few years. But Swiss remembered every name he put on there and knew which one his little girl would have.

“Nyathera.”

She survived.

As soon as Swiss named her, she gurgled happily, burrowing further into Swiss’ chest. He chuffed a laugh before holding her a little tighter, licking at her head to clean and comfort her, and pushing his scent out. If he had known, he would’ve been scenting whoever caught on him, and scented her as soon as she came into the world and every night for that first week. It was to acclimate her to her father’s scent so she would easily find safety and comfort in it, but it was also a defensive instinct. As grim as it was, kits had a certain smell to them and some would use it to hunt Ghouls while their guards are down, caring for their kits or sleeping at their sides. By covering up the newborn scent, he was protecting her. And he also had a lot of time to make up for.

“Satan’s fucking toe nail, Switchblade. What are you doing? It absolutely reeks-” Mountain was cut off by himself and his jaw was dropped comically low.

“I- I- I don’t know either. She was just on the doorstep and, Mountain, my Lord, it’s just so right. I heard her and found her and picked her up. She’s so perfect and she’s mine, Petal, I know it in my bones, my soul, she’s mine.” Swiss rambled furiously and Mountain shucked off his layers as he spoke, the hares he caught left on the kitchenette counter and came over to Swiss.

He kissed the Multi’s forehead and put his own there, “It’s alright, darling. It’s okay now.”

“It’s more than okay, it’s perfect.” Swiss whispered.

Mountain looked down to the tiny Ghuleh and smiled, “What’s your name, little one?”

“Nyathera.” Swiss said proudly.

“Well, hello there, Nyathera. I’m Mountain, and I’m going to be the one making sure your Daddy doesn’t burn the Ministry down trying to change your diapers, okay?” He cooed, not touching her until Swiss had given the okay, which he suspected would be a while.

“Hey! I’ll only singe the curtains a bit, probably.” Swiss smirked, “And it’s Papa to her.”

Mountain snorted, “Oh, Copia’s gonna love that one.”

“Tough shit, it just feels right.” Swiss said, tears pricking his eyes and beading on his lashes, “Fuck, Mount, it just feels so right.”

“It looks it to.” He smiled, “When I walked in here, seeing you hold her. I don’t think I’ve ever seen a sight suit you more.”

“Really?” Swiss couldn’t express right now how much that meant to him.

“Really.” Mountain confirmed.

“Thank you.” Swiss said, knocking his horns against Mountain’s antlers, “For everything. Taking care of me the last year, almost. I know it wasn’t easy.”

“It wasn’t, I hated seeing you like that. But none of it was your fault. And I would do it a million times over, forever until the world implodes, if it meant you get to be as happy as you are right now.” Mountain affirmed, rubbing a hand over Swiss’ knee.

The three Ghouls stayed in silence with one another for a while. Mountain was making an effort to keep his scent in. Swiss’ was the most important right now for little Nyathera. If Swiss wanted one of the pack to help raise her in place of her other biological parent, Mountain would happily put his name on every line of the sign-up sheet, but until then Swiss was all that mattered. To him and Nyathera.

“C- can you call Aeth?” Swiss eventually broke the silence, “We don’t have anything for her here and nothing came with her. I don’t know how long she was out there for, I don’t know if she was born with anything, I don’t kno-”

“Shh, my sweet.” Mountain said, an expert at cutting off Swiss-spirals, “I’ll call him now. Do you want to talk or me?”

“You.” Swiss said instantly.

“Okay, I’ll go do it now.” Mountain said, kissing Swiss’ horn as he stood and looking again to the little Ghoulette, “You’ll watch him for me for a few minutes now, won’t you, Nyathera?”

Swiss stuck his tongue out before turning to his daughter, “We’re going to be a great little team, aren’t we, Nya?”

“Satan help us all.” Mountain grimaced as he went to the other side of the cabin - a specific spot by the corner that randomly had better signal that the rest of the place - and dialled Aether. As Mountain gave a very brief rundown of the night’s events, Swiss laughed as even he could distinctly hear Aether’s confusion.

Nya joined in with some gorgeous giggles herself, and Swiss knew that the two of them would conquer the world.

Aether’s voice, despite not being on speaker nor Mountain’s phone being on full volume, could clearly be heard shouting: “I’m sorry, WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK?!”

Yeah, Swiss was going to have a lot of explaining to do…

~~~

a/n: SwissAlps was meant to be a SINGLE SENTENCE in this. It was just meant to be a line about Swiss having to safeword but, these two dorks stuck around and I love SwissAlps, so I won't complain. Also, yes, I took the name Nyathera from my ficlet Metamorphosis , but this is a separate thing, Rain is not Nya's other parent. It's just a pretty name and I like it lol.

One shot master post can be found here!

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assortedvillainvault · 9 months ago

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Hi! I was browsing the Lord Shen tag and found your blog 👀. I loved the headcanons for ShenxReader through the wolf henchmen's pov ❤️.

Would you mind sharing some headcanons but from the pov of the fluffy Lord peacock himself?

Hi Anon, thank you so much!!

I'm so sorry that my Lord Shen Masterlist slipped my mind - I'm fighting tumblrs atrocious tag search to find my previous writings for him and get them on there for you. In the meantime please - have some more!

Lord Shen x Reader Headcannons

- This stuck up, mithery, hairpin tempered ball of anxiety and condescension is officially your problem now. I mean. You chose this, so I’ll leave it to you as to what end of the bad choices scale you’re landing on, but man. You sure picked.

- I also can’t get over the fact that – in China and most of the East: white is associated with death and sadness, and mourning. You not only picked the unhinged genocide gun bird, you picked the only person in all of China to be literally born emo via albinism.

- I will get back to the above, but I’m mcfucking losing it over the image of Shen being. The smaller of the two of you.

- Like if you were a smaller creature he could properly get his elegant noble stride on, nose in the air and tail gently swishing behind him as he circles you, admiring every angle and relishing the nervous, excited little glances you give him. He might not be a strictly predatory species but he sure loves that thrilling edge of not-quite-stalking. He’s too high class for the genuine article, that’s what he has the wolves for.

- But if you had the audacity to be larger than him?!

- He’d grind his teeth if he had any. He wants so badly to intimidate you – making sure to step with an extra click of metal coated talons, words honey-barbed and sticky as he looks for chinks in your armour, having to crane his head back and up to look you in the eye and- look- could, could you just- just lean down? Lean down for goodness sake just- there. There. Lovely. As he was saying…

- Shen going to go bananas planning the perfect courtship. Everything must be. Exactly. As he plans it. God forbid you trip on the stairs. If you bribe the guards to move all furniture two inches to the left you’re going to have a great time watching Shen’s eyelid twitch for twenty minutes as he tries to figure out what’s ticking him off.

- Want a shortcut? Say nice things about his cannon. No seriously, it’s not a euphemism (though it could be-)

- The cannon is the culmination of Shen’s ambitions, the reason for his exile, the demonstration of ingenuity that set him apart. Seeing you run a hand smoothly over the intricate castings and complimenting his life's work is going to fill him with so many butterflies he’ll have the wedding ready by noon.

- Of course he does, underneath all the royal snobbery and sass, really, genuinely like you. More than he ever thought he could ever like another person. Go you.

- ...He can’t contain the terror that you might not like him back. Not because of all the murder, no, that’s clearly not the issue. But because he isn’t perfect enough for you. Because he’s not enough.

- Shen popped out of his egg all but rocking the 2007 bangs and MCR soundtrack of his time: born the colours of death in a house and species traditionally all the colours of the rainbow will have been like a self fulfilling prophesy – unspoken but not forgotten as he grew up and internalised his inadequacy by striving for excellence in literally everything else in life.

- Excellence in the form of weaponry, security, excessive control and genocidal ruthlessness. Combined with ingenuity, high intelligence and paranoia: all wrapped in a package of straining courtly manners and a need to constantly have the upper hand.

- You keep taking the fucking rug out from under him by reversing the script and being nice. Even his nanny (soothsayer, who has having a great time munching popcorn and giving incidental commentary) gives him shit and drives him up the wall – yet you’re out here, smiling (how dare you-) and- and saying he looks good (he knows, knows he looks sickly and out of place, a reaper amongst royalty-) and – of course you want to hand his hand really, who wouldn’t (who would?) - he’s fine, he’s fine-

- If he dared to let you go, he’d shatter like a discarded doll.

- How does it feel, reader, to hold the fate of all China in the balance of your smile?

#thalassa responds #thank you so so much for the ask!!#x reader #kfp lord shen #lord shen #lord shen x reader #kfp lord shen x reader #ahhh that critical combo of parental issues and chronic instability vs a need for love so intense whole nations are at risk. gotta love it.#disaster bird.#@rose your man is breaching containment

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theonceandfuturequeenoftarts · 3 months ago

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20 Questions (for fanfic writers)

Thank you for the tags, @cindle-writes and @izharmilgram! I'm procrastinating on other responsibilities, so let's have some fun~

Tagging @i-dream-of-libraries, @chaos-bear, @floatingdandelionseeds, @pitzer, @riverxsong-ao3, @tommarvoloriddlesdiary, @thefangirlibrarian, @hikarimeroperiddle and @blackseatwenty (no pressure, only if you want to! ♡♡♡) and anyone else who wants to talk about their fics -- consider this your tag! ♡

how many works do you have on ao3? 47

what's your total ao3 word count? 226,795

what fandoms do you write for? Harry Potter, Yuri!!! On Ice

top five fics by kudos: A long, hard road; Gone bananas; thrown into the nest; refuge from the miseries of life; unfailingly ingenious at having a good time (surprised the cat!Harry fics are so high tbh) Edit: I can't read... (:‚‹」∠) Top five fics by kudos are as follows: Gone bananas; A long, hard road; thrown into the nest; refuge from the miseries of life; and Coriander (not a big change, but it does explain why the cat!Harry sequel was so high...)

do you respond to comments? uhh... occasionally. Social anxiety kicks my ass and so I put my energy into writing fic instead. I love every single comment I get and reread them any time I need a pick-me-up, but I am a bad author who doesn't reply...

what is the fic your wrote with the angstiest ending? hmm... probably pyrrhic victory, but Capsized is also a contender

what's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending? considering I write mostly fluff and crack, this is a surprisingly difficult question to answer... I'm gonna go with either if you like it, then... or thrown into the nest. Or maybe don't blame the stork? (Some lovely reader out there is shouting at their screen, "Flaky, you goof, it's obviously ____!!" and they're correct.)

do you get hate on fics? Nope, not really! Some readers express that they wish I'd done certain things differently, and a couple have said I ended a fic badly, but I don't think I've received anything I'd consider hateful.

do you write smut? uhhhh... sometimes. When it's the best way to tell the story I have in my head, then I'll write smut. But it's still a bit uncomfortable to do. I'd like to think I'm getting better at it?

craziest crossover? I'm not sure I've actually written anything that could really be considered a crossover, but A real voyage of discovery is kind of a mash-up of Harry Potter characters in a Star Trek-y world? And it has alien!mort, and I think he's nifty.

have you ever had a fic stolen? A couple of my fics have appeared on Wattpad without my permission, but other than that, no.

have you ever had a fic translated? Yep, a few! (ㅅ´ ˘ `)

have you ever co-written a fic before? Not yet -- I don't really know how it'd work, and I'm afraid to try (¬_¬") Intensely private about my writing before it's ready to post unless you're Jenny. But! I'm counting the Telephone and the Corpse (coming soon) because they're collaborative (in a way) and have been such a major part of my fandom experience!

all-time favorite ship? tomarrymort~ (honourable mentions to sefikura, madohomu, and viktuuri)

what's a wip you want to finish but doubt you ever will? Fingers crossed I'm not breaking anyone's heart with this, but probably Let's Talk About Sex, Baby. I have some more written for it, but it's been a while since I've returned to it and other projects interest me more. I have every intention of finishing my WIPs, but... there are only so many hours in a day and my energy is, sadly, finite (´•︵•`)

what are your writing strengths? whimsical finger guns! Poignant fluff? Emotions. silliness, and dialogue, probably.

what are your writing weaknesses? Worldbuilding, continuous narratives (as opposed to short scenes without much context), plot-heavy narratives, description, writing the main characters in true opposition to each other, fleshing ideas out rather than keeping it (overly) brief... I'm sure I'll think of a bunch of other things as soon as I post this.

thoughts on dialogue in another language? I'd like to! I speak French reasonably well, and I'm lucky enough to have some fandom friends who speak other languages, so I'm sure I could beg their assistance.

favorite fic you've written? Hhhhhhh, why must I choose? I'll go with naïve melody, because it still gives me the warm fuzzies. I'm just so proud of the tone, and I really like how that Voldemort comes across.

#tag game #fic talk #tomarrymort

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ladysif8 · 6 months ago

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Something Sweet

•Paring: Bucky Barnes x Steve Rogers •Rated: General Audience •Tags: Recovering Bucky Barnes, Semi-Retired Bucky Barnes, Semi-Retired Steve Rogers, Bucky Loves To Cook, Bucky Loves To Bakes, He Loves Being In The Kitchen In General, Domestic Bliss, Fluffiest Fluff Fest, Boys In Love, Therapy, Getting Better One Day At A Time, Supportive Steve Rogers.

•Summary: In the wake of Bucky's liberation from HYDRA, he and Steve have settled into a quiet small town in upstate New York, making a home together. Bucky is dedicated to his recovery, driven by his desire to better himself for both his own sake and for his loving, patient, and kind boyfriend, Steve. As Bucky reflects on his journey, he realizes that he has never properly apologized to Steve for the pain he caused. Determined to express his remorse in a meaningful way, Bucky decides that the best way to say "I'm sorry" is by baking a cake.

Bucky sits at the small wooden table in Steve's apartment, eyes fixed on the laptop screen in front of him with a mixture of trepidation and curiosity. The soft hum of the machine seems almost menacing to him. Despite being kept up to date on technology by A.I.M. and HYDRA, this is the first time he's ever freely been able to use a computer, and even that freedom feels precarious. His fingers hover uncertainly over the keyboard as if the laptop might spring to life and attack at any moment.

The room is dimly lit by a single lamp, casting shadows that dance across the walls and give the space an almost surreal atmosphere. Steve is in the kitchen, giving Bucky space but keeping an eye on him, ready to help if needed. The thought of General Ross and the Accords looms large in Bucky's mind. He knows they are chomping at the bit to get their grubby, dirty government hands on him, watching his every move even now. The weight of their surveillance is a constant pressure, turning this simple act of using a computer into an act of defiance.

He takes a deep breath, reminding himself that he's safe here and that Steve has his back. But the anxiety lingers, a reminder of the shadows of his past. As he finally begins to type, the clack of the keys feels like a small victory, a step toward reclaiming his autonomy.

Bucky's fingers tentatively move over the keyboard as he types "cake recipe" into the search bar. Memories of his mother's cakes surface, the warm, comforting aroma filling their modest home during the Great Depression. Those cakes were simple, made from whatever scarce ingredients they could find, but they were a rare treat that brought a sense of normalcy and joy in hard times.

Now, in this new age, he knows that food has evolved, that flavors have been enhanced, and recipes perfected. As he scrolls through the search results, images of decadent, elaborately decorated cakes make him feel both excited and a bit overwhelmed.

He can't help but chuckle as he thinks about his ongoing disagreement with Sam about bananas. Sam insists they taste the same as always, but Bucky is convinced they're different now, their flavor altered by something intangible but noticeable to him. Then again, he muses, Sam's judgment is questionable. After all, Sam did choose to help Steve save his ass, a decision that might not have been entirely based on sound logic.

He clicks on a recipe that looks promising: apple cake with an apple pie filling and cinnamon buttercream. The combination of flavors sounds both comforting and delicious, a perfect blend of old and new. Feeling a surge of confidence, Bucky decides he can definitely handle this.

Reaching for the notepad and pencil next to him, he starts jotting down the ingredients:

- Apples

- Flour

- Sugar

- Eggs

- Butter

- Cinnamon

- Baking powder

- Salt

- Vanilla extract

- Brown sugar

- Powdered sugar

- Heavy cream

As he writes, he envisions the process: the smell of apples and cinnamon filling Steve's apartment, the satisfaction of creating something from scratch. It's a small step toward reclaiming a sense of normalcy and peace.

Bucky is so absorbed in his list that he doesn't hear Steve approaching. Steve's hands on his shoulders startle him, and he quickly closes the browser and covers his notes.

"What're you up to?" Steve asks, peering over Bucky's shoulder.

"Nothing," Bucky replies, looking up with a forced smile.

Steve raises an eyebrow, clearly skeptical but thankfully deciding not to press the issue. "Sam and I are heading out for a few hours. You wanna come?"

Bucky wrinkles his nose at the idea, making Steve chuckle. "Didn't think so," Steve says, dipping his head down to give Bucky a quick kiss.

Before Steve can pull away, Bucky grabs the back of his head, holding him there to deepen the kiss, savoring the moment. When they finally part, Steve's smile is softer and more understanding. "Alright, see you later," Steve says, giving Bucky's shoulders a reassuring squeeze before heading out.

As the door closes behind Steve, Bucky watches him go, a smile lingering on his lips. Steve has been incredibly patient with him these past several months. Though it's technically been a year since he was liberated, adjusting to this new life hasn't been easy.

Bucky's court-appointed therapist, Doctor Raynor, has diagnosed him with PTSD. They called it combat or battle fatigue back in the day, but Bucky is thankful that mental health care has made significant advancements since then. He's been dealing with nightmares, dissociation, and a pervasive sense of being disconnected from reality.

Doctor Raynor has emphasized the importance of positive touch in his recovery. Simple gestures like holding hands, resting his feet on Steve's lap, or letting Steve massage his feet have become crucial parts of his healing process. These moments of contact help ground him, reminding him that he is safe and cared for.

Bucky pads to his and Steve's bedroom, the wooden floor cool under his bare feet. He opens the closet and grabs a pair of jeans and a T-shirt, then heads to the bathroom. Turning on the shower, he steps under the hot water, letting it wash away the lingering tension from his muscles.

He showers quickly, savoring the warmth, then wraps a towel around his waist as he steps out. Standing in front of the mirror, he shaves his face with practiced precision, then works some product into his short hair, styling it just the way he likes. Pleased with his appearance, he glances at his Vibranium arm, its sleek design a constant reminder of his past and his resilience. He's starting to not remember a time when he didn't have this arm; its presence is now a familiar part of him.

With a deep breath, he walks back into the bedroom and gets dressed, the comfortable routine grounding him further. Ready for the day ahead, he feels a small but significant sense of accomplishment.

Bucky grabs his wallet, phone, and keys, almost forgetting his list in the process. He quickly snatches it from the table and heads outside. The bay door is open, and Steve's motorcycle is missing from the garage. He hopes his boyfriend has a good time with Sam.

Unlocking his gray 2021 Chevy Tahoe, Bucky climbs in and immediately starts the air conditioner, relishing the cool air. He backs out of the driveway, spotting his neighbor Lydney sitting on her front porch with baby Jenson. Bucky gives them a wave, receiving a friendly smile in return.

He drives through the quiet streets of Beacon, a charming town in upstate New York. The serene atmosphere and friendly community have been a balm to his mind. As he heads towards the grocery store, he takes a moment to appreciate the peacefulness of his surroundings, feeling grateful for this small slice of normalcy.

Bucky parks the Tahoe and steps out into the warm afternoon. As he walks into the grocery store, the cool, conditioned air is a welcome relief. It's a sweltering 97° outside, the heat index makes it over 100°. He grabs a cart and pulls out his list, ready to gather the ingredients for his apple cake.

Navigating the aisles, he quickly finds the basics: flour, sugar, eggs, butter, cinnamon, and the other essentials. As he reaches the produce section, he carefully selects a few apples, making sure they're firm and fresh. He spots a display of zucchini and pauses. He thinks about the steaks waiting in the fridge in the bourbon marinade he threw together at home and decides to grab a couple of to go with them.

Bucky feels a small sense of satisfaction as he checks off each item on his list. With his cart nearly full, he heads to the checkout, ready to return home.

As Bucky places his groceries on the conveyor belt, the cashier greets him with a friendly smile. "Hey there, how's it going?" he asks while scanning the items.

"Good, thanks," Bucky replies, offering a polite smile in return.

"Man, it's been a hot one today, hasn't it?" the cashier continues, making small talk as he works.

"Yeah, feels like summer's really kicking in," Bucky responds, trying to engage despite his usual aversion to small talk.

The cashier chuckles. "Tell me about it. I've been counting down the minutes until I can get out of here and hit the lake."

Bucky nods, appreciating the cashier's enthusiasm. "Sounds like a good plan. Hope you get to cool off soon."

The cashier scans the last item and starts bagging the groceries. "What about you? Got any plans to beat the heat?"

"Just gonna stay inside and do some baking," Bucky says, holding up his list as if to prove it.

"Baking in this weather? Brave soul," the cashier teases, handing Bucky his receipt. "Well, good luck with that. Have a great day!"

"Thanks, you too," Bucky replies, loading the bags into his cart. He heads back to the Tahoe, feeling a bit more accomplished for having engaged in a bit of friendly banter, however small.

Bucky stands in front of his KitchenAid mixer, eyeing it a little dubiously. The shiny, red machine gleams on the countertop, its various attachments neatly laid out in the cabinet next to it. It was a recent gift from Steve, who had noticed Bucky spending more time in the kitchen and thought he could use a top-notch tool to help with his culinary experiments.

He hasn't had a chance to use it yet, but today feels like the perfect opportunity. "Why not?" he mutters to himself, determined to make good use of Steve's thoughtful gift.

Bucky grabs his laptop, setting it up on the counter beside the mixer. He pulls up the apple cake recipe and begins measuring out his ingredients. Flour, sugar, baking powder, and salt go into the bowl first, followed by a careful measurement of cinnamon. He cracks the eggs and adds them to the mix, followed by softened butter and vanilla extract.

He takes a moment to look at the instructions again, ensuring he's not missing any steps. Satisfied, he attaches the paddle to the mixer and secures the bowl in place. With a deep breath, he turns the mixer on, but he must have set it to a higher speed than intended.

The mixer roars to life, and within seconds, flour and other ingredients are catapulted out of the bowl. Bucky's eyes widen in shock as a cloud of flour engulfs him, covering his hair, face, and clothes. The mess doesn't stop there—ingredients splatter onto the kitchen cabinets, and a fine layer of flour settles over his laptop screen.

Bucky stands frozen for a moment, then bursts out laughing at the absurdity of the situation. He's covered in flour from head to toe, and the kitchen is a disaster zone of scattered ingredients.

"Well, that's one way to use it," he mutters, shaking his head as he starts to clean up. Despite the mishap, he can't help but feel a sense of satisfaction. It's a new kind of battle, and even though he's ended up covered in flour, he's ready to try again.

Bucky has finally cleaned up the mess, wiping down the counters, cabinets, and his flour-dusted laptop. With everything back in order, he takes a deep breath and prepares to try again. This time, he sets Marvin Gaye's "Got to Give It Up" playing softly from his laptop, letting the smooth rhythm fill the kitchen and lift his spirits.

He re-measures the flour, sugar, baking powder, and salt, carefully adding them to the mixer bowl. The eggs, butter, and vanilla extract follow, and he attaches the paddle to the mixer once more. With a cautious hand, he turns the mixer on at the lowest speed, watching as the ingredients blend smoothly together.

Relief washes over him as the batter comes together perfectly. The oven is already preheated and ready to go. But just as he's about to pour the batter, he realizes he doesn't have any cake pans. He rummages through the cabinets, searching for something suitable. Finally, he spots a square disposable metal pan tucked in the back.

He shrugs. "That'll do," he says to himself.

Pouring the batter into the pan, he smooths it out evenly and slides it into the oven. The kitchen is filled with the comforting scent of baking cake, and Bucky can't help but feel a sense of accomplishment.

As the cake bakes, Bucky turns his attention to the cinnamon buttercream. He pulls out the ingredients: butter, powdered sugar, cinnamon, vanilla extract, and heavy cream. With a determined smile, he begins the process.

He softens the butter in the mixer bowl, this time being extra careful to start on a low speed. Gradually, he adds the powdered sugar, watching as it blends smoothly with the butter. Next comes the cinnamon and vanilla extract, filling the kitchen with a warm, spicy aroma. He adds a splash of heavy cream, increasing the mixer's speed slightly to achieve a fluffy, smooth consistency. Satisfied, he tastes a bit and nods in approval. Perfect.

With the buttercream ready, Bucky sets it aside and starts on the apple pie filling. He peels and chops the apples, then places them in a saucepan with some brown sugar, cinnamon, and a hint of nutmeg. As the mixture begins to simmer, the apples soften, and the sugar caramelizes, creating a rich, fragrant filling.

He stirs the apples gently, ensuring they cook evenly. The smell of cinnamon and caramelized apples fills the kitchen, blending harmoniously with the scent of the baking cake. Bucky takes a moment to appreciate the comforting aromas, feeling a deep sense of satisfaction as he prepares each component.

The cake is nearly done, and with the buttercream and apple pie filling ready, he knows he's close to completing his culinary creation. He checks the timer, eager to assemble the cake and see the final result.

With the cake finally cooled, Bucky knows he needs to improvise. He carefully removes the cake from the pan, using a knife to cut it in half horizontally. Gently, he lifts the top layer off and sets it aside. He spreads the apple pie filling evenly over the bottom layer, then carefully places the top layer back on, pressing down lightly to secure it.

Realizing he doesn't have all the baking tools he Bucky makes do with what he has. He spreads the cinnamon buttercream over the top and sides of the cake, smoothing it as best as he can with a spatula. He then adds a few drops of black food coloring to a small amount of the buttercream, mixing it until it reaches a rich, dark color. He scoops the colored icing into a Ziploc bag and cuts a tiny corner off, fashioning a makeshift piping bag.

As he stands there, ready to decorate, he ponders what to write on the cake. Logically, he knows Steve understands that he's sorry for everything he did as the Winter Soldier, but he's never actually said it out loud. It's something Doctor Raynor has encouraged him to do—expressing his feelings and doing things he wants to do.

Taking a deep breath, Bucky starts piping the words, his hand a bit unsteady but determined. The black icing forms the letters carefully: "I'm Sorry." He steps back to look at his work, the simple yet powerful message standing out against the white cinnamon buttercream.

The cake is far from perfect, but it carries a weight of meaning that makes it special. Bucky knows Steve will appreciate the effort and the sentiment behind it. He smiles, feeling a sense of accomplishment and a small, hopeful step toward healing.

Steve walks in the front door, hanging up his keys on the hook by the entrance. "I'm home!" he calls out, expecting to hear Bucky's reply. He checks his phone and notices a $456 charge from Amazon on his credit card, frowning in confusion. "Buck?" he calls out again but still gets no answer.

Walking further into their cozy two-bedroom, two-bath house, Steve finally spots Bucky out on the back deck, tending to the Blackstone griddle. He opens the door and steps outside, saying, "Hey, baby."

Bucky looks over his shoulder as he flips the steaks. "Hey," he says, a smile spreading across his face. "Did you have a good time?"

Steve leans in to kiss Bucky softly, but Bucky gets a little greedy, pulling Steve back in for a deeper kiss. When they finally part, Steve breathes out, "Yeah, I did. What are you up to?"

"I did some baking," Bucky replies, his eyes twinkling with a mix of pride and mischief.

Steve raises an eyebrow, intrigued. "Baking, huh? Can't wait to see what you've made."

Bucky grins. "You'll see after dinner. Now go get washed up," he says, giving Steve a playful swat on his perfect ass.

Steve chuckles and heads inside, the affectionate touch lingering warmly. Bucky has definitely been lately, seeking physical connection in ways that go beyond Doctor Raynor's recommendations. It's a welcome change, and Steve feels a thrill of anticipation as he washes up, eager to see what Bucky has baked.

Back outside, Bucky tends to the steaks with a newfound lightness in his heart. He can't wait to see Steve's reaction to the cake and the message he's carefully written. It's a step toward healing and an expression of the deep love and regret he feels.

Steve steps back outside, freshened up and ready for dinner. He looks at Bucky with a curious expression. "By the way, do you know anything about the Amazon charges on my card?"

Bucky shrugs casually, a playful glint in his eye. "Yeah, I did some light shopping for the kitchen."

Steve blinks, a bit taken aback by Bucky's choice of words. "Light shopping, huh?" he replies, raising an eyebrow. "I guess that's one way to put it."

Bucky just smiles, trying to keep his expression innocent as he continues to tend to the steaks.

Bucky and Steve sit at the table, the aroma of their meal filling the room. Their plates are generously loaded with bourbon steaks cooked to a perfect medium, sautéed zucchini, onion, and squash, and loaded baked potatoes. Bucky had outdone himself, and the spread looked delicious.

As Steve takes his first bite, his eyes light up. "Buck, baby, this is incredible. The steak is cooked perfectly, and these potatoes are amazing."

Bucky blushes at the praise, a pleased smile spreading across his face. He cuts into his own steak, savoring the flavors, while Steve continues to rave about the meal.

"You know," Steve says between bites, looking at Bucky with a soft smile, "you're really pretty when you blush. Makes everything taste even better."

Bucky's cheeks flush even deeper, his smile growing shy but happy. "Thanks, honey," he murmurs, feeling a warm glow from both the compliment and the successful dinner.

The evening continues with easy conversation and laughter, and the love and affection between them are as evident as the delicious meal Bucky prepares.

Steve pushes away his plate with a satisfied sigh, patting his full stomach. "That was amazing, Buck. You really outdid yourself," he says, leaning back in his chair.

Bucky chuckles softly as he starts to clear the plates. "I'm glad you enjoyed it," he says, picking up the dishes.

Steve begins to stand, but Bucky gently puts a hand on his shoulder. "Stay seated," he says with a smile. "I'll handle this."

Bucky leans down and plants a tender kiss on Steve's lips. "I'll be right back," he adds, his voice warm and reassuring.

Steve nods, a contented smile on his face as he watches Bucky clear the table.

Bucky returns to the table with the cake pan, his face beaming with pride. He sets the cake down in front of Steve, who looks up with a mix of curiosity and anticipation.

Steve's eyes scan the cake, and a smile slowly spreads across his face as he reads the inscription: "I'm sorry I blacked out, then tried to kill you and got us arrested." Unable to contain his amusement, he covers his mouth with his hand to stifle a chuckle.

Bucky's cheeks flush with a blend of embarrassment and affection. He watches Steve's reaction closely, his heart pounding with a mix of nervousness and hope.

Steve finally looks up, his eyes shining with both laughter and love. "You know," he says, his voice tender, "it might not be the most conventional apology, but it's definitely one of the most heartfelt."

Bucky's blush deepens, but he smiles, relieved that Steve appreciates the gesture. "I just wanted you to know how much I mean it," he says softly.

Steve reaches out and takes Bucky's hand, squeezing it gently. "And I appreciate it more than you know." he brings Bucky's hand up to his lips and kisses it. "Now, let's dig into this cake."

Steve cuts a slice of the cake and looks up at Bucky with a curious smile. "Is this what I think it is?" he asks, eyeing the layers and the frosting.

Bucky's smile widens with pride. "Yep, it's apple cake with apple pie filling and cinnamon buttercream."

Steve's eyes light up in delight. "You spoil me, baby," he says, taking a bite. The combination of the tender cake, spiced apple filling, and creamy buttercream is as delicious as he had hoped. "Fuck, Buck, this is amazing."

Bucky watches eagerly as Steve savors the first bite, the satisfaction in his gaze clear. "I'm glad you think so," he says softly, feeling a warm sense of accomplishment.

Steve nods, his expression one of genuine enjoyment. "It's perfect, Buck. Thanks for making this, baby."

Moodboard

Sif's Masterlist

Series Masterlist

#marvel #mcu alternate universe #fanfiction #bucky barnes #james bucky barnes #steve rogers #stucky #gay boys #fluff #buckybarnes/steverogers

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fishii28 · 7 months ago

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☆ fishii | they/them | minor

☆ moots | tags | abt dms | strawpage

☆ basic dni criteria + dni if you're -13 or 25+ (little to no exceptions.)

☆ married to the gorgeous @thegolden-tigeress (and matching with them!) <3

☆ @mene-morphosis3 is the fyodor to my nikolai :3

☆ if yk me irl, do not ineract (unless i've given you this blog)

☆ dividers by @saradika-graphics

☆ more info utc! please read!!

☆ english is my first language, typos may be common because i'm lazy and i use punctuation sometimes.

☆ fandoms: bungou stray dogs, jujutsu kaisen, blue lock, haikyuu!!, wotakoi, fullmetal alchemist, banana fish, alien stage, moriatry the patriot and more! feel free to ask or recommend!

☆ psst, if you're here for chaotic bllk rp mod stuff, check #bllk rp core - fishii edition!!

☆ pjsk id: 499119203606151168

☆ among other things, there may be vents, rants, breakdowns and things as such on this blog. i try to tag properly, so if i miss something, please tell me!

☆ just a warning for some rants/vents may include; eating disorders, inability to recognise rights and wrongs, inability to recognise feelings, anxiety, self hate, self destructive behaviours and mentions about suicide. you get the gist. please feel free to block my vent tag, which is #f.vents or even just my text tag, #fishii rambles.

☆ though, i'm gonna try keeping my vents on my vent blog, which is @doomed-bythe-narrative.

☆ i'm a sensitive person, to say the least. i'll try matching your energy but some days i have little to no energy nor motivation, so please be patient with me.

☆ hate comments/asks directed to me or my mutuals or really anyone will be deleted and reported. this is a safe space. if you tag me in something hating on me or someone else, get my name out your mouth and stay out my life. i have no trouble being rude if those are the circumstances.

☆ please do not ask me for monetary help, i can't provide any and it makes me really sad that i can't.

☆ you can ask for my writing blog, otherwise if you're here from that blog welcome!

#fishii's pinned post #fishii's mutuals//#fishii's navi.#fishii rambles #f.vents #mooties!! :D #fishii silly hours #fishii draws!#fishii's mutuals #fishii's favs!#fishii's polls #fishii's asks!#mere jaan shree <3 #bllk rp core - fishii edition

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mosviqu · 10 days ago

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before the new year begins

happy new year everyone! 🫶🏻✨️ toffee @neo-shitty tagged me in this and since i absolutely love talking about myself and reflecting, i am taking the opportunity to look back on 2024 with this, so thank u for the tag hihi. 🩷

my no-pressure tags go to @sungbeam @from-izzy @gluion @jaehunnyy @sanaxo-o @injangism and @freakywonbin !!

1. share your favorite memory of this year.

as much as i shit on 2024, it surely was one of the best years of my life. I can't really think of one memory that would be my most favorite, but i really enjoyed my trip to budapest in june and also august, my internet best friend sleeping over, karaoke nights in november and december, getting drunk with my situationship, 11/11 manifestation with my friend and over-all many moments spent with friends during this semester :,)

2. what was the highlight of your year?

I think that an over-all highlight might have been me spending more time with my friends and building deeper bonds with the people around me, but once again, i dont think i can pick just one.

3. list the top five books you read this year.

AAAA i love book questions. okay so! first place definitely takes happy all the time by laurie colwin, which i didnt expect to like as much as i did, but its a solid 5* book that i think about often. second place is definitely tomorrow, and tomorrow, and tomorrow by gabrielle zevin that i read this time last year, it was such an enchanting and amazing read with an unique plot line and great world building. third place takes flowers for algernon by daniel keyes, my psych major heart enjoyed this one deeply. makes you think and reflect and i would recommend this book to anyone. I also very much enjoyed kitchen by banana yoshimoto, which was written in a very simple, yet beautiful way, and the last one im going to mention is never let me go by kazuo ishiguro, which i also didnt expect to like half as much as i did.

4. list the top five movies you watched this year.

I am not much of a movie watcher, if im being honest, i am convinced i literally watched 5 movies in total last year 💀💀 but i did really love fight club! I also finally watched the amazing spiderman movies which i loved, and beautiful boy which wasn't exactly what i expected, but i enjoyed it nonetheless and think about it often. as the fifth one im gonna mention john mulaney: baby j if that counts..? 😭

5. list the top five tv series you binged this year.

I havent watched much tv series either,, but twinkling watermelon was definitely my favorite!! I also enjoyed the eighth sense and the eight show, and i also channeled my inner uk culture lover and watched the inbetweeners finally LMAOO

6. what is the one new thing you discovered this year (could be a place/hobby/song etc)?

does a karaoke bar at uni count? 💀💀 i dont think i really discovered many new things last year, or i cant really recall anything..? but i definitely discovered more of my uni town and maybe more of my sexuality..? 😭 as for artists i discovered the kid laroi, role model and gracie abrams :p

7. top three albums that you played this year?

the secret of us by gracie abrams, eternal sunshine by ariana grande and kansas anymore by role model were definitely my most played this year 🙂‍↕️

8. your spotify wrapped #1 song

I feel like i am the only one whose spotify wrapped was accurate this year HAHA. anyways mine was sadly she moves in her own way by the kooks. 🧍‍♀️

9. your spotify wrapped top artist.

the 1975! matty healy they could never make me hate you.

10. your personal song of the year.

oof.. n e m u s i m e s a b a t by porsche boy and mess. this song was there for me when no one else was HAHA.

11. what is an achievement that you are proud of this year?

started putting myself first and taking more opportunities to go out/hang out with people. this used to be a big problem of mine especially when i was handling anxiety, but i found that getting out of the house helps managing it :))

12. what are your goals for the next year?

biggest goal is definitely graduating and getting into masters! then id love to travel to london with my friend in the summer and finally get that tattoo i've been wanting since 17 hihi. finding love would also be great but i dont think thats something i can impact haha

13. any three book releases you are excited for next year

I dont really follow any anticipated releases, to be honest! I just read what i find already released 😭

14. any three upcoming movies/tv series that you are excited for next year.

WEAK HERO CLASS 2 !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

15. if you could change one thing about the past year what would it be?

the holiday season 💀💀 it was quite possibly the darkest part of my year/life and i did not enjoy it at all.

16. did you manage to stick to your new year's resolutions this year?

I just found a few that i had written down in my journal last year. I definitely stuck to taking care of myself more, put myself first more, hanging out more with my friends and continuing to write. I didnt however watch more movies, do more art and read 24 books last year 💔

17. do you have any new year's resolutions for the next year?

I do! as i already mentioned, graduating and getting into masters is a big one. then going to london, get a tattoo, write more, continue to socialize even more, be more careless and have more of a yolo lifestyle, find a more positive relationship with myself and build my confidence in a way that doesnt depend on external validation. :))

18. favorite meme of the year?

mama a girl behind you was a big one in my brain to be quite honest. 😭😭 also 9/10 perfect score! OH and the sabrina "have you ever tried this one?"

19. which month was the most fun this year?

june, august, october and november were big ❤️‍🔥

20. what color do you associate the previous year with?

hmmm not gonna lie its very close to brat green in my eyes

21. if you could tell yourself something at the beginning of this year based on what you know right now, what would it be?

do things scared !!! don't worry so much about everything, because things will turn out just fine. also dont talk to the erasmus people in the club it's a trap! (/j. I've enjoyed this little fun romance side quest of mine so far.)

22. favorite viral trend of the year?

I think i kinda fell for the very cutesy very demure trend for a bit?? Also the viral dance to disco by surf curse was the highlight of my days i watched every single one on my fyp haha

23. list any three new things you learned this year (could be recipes, a new skill, etc.)

my signature pasta recipe i cook for me and my roommate every other week. I also feel like i finally learned how to park..? and uhhh the last skill may be how to give a bj idk sjsksdksksk

24. how would you describe your year in a word?

fun!

25. what color do you want to associate the upcoming year with? why?

yellow! it feels like a very positive/celebratory color and i feel like thats what i really need next year <3

#tag game

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dollboyism · 28 days ago

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College AU | Sukuna x Transmasc!Reader - Part 1

MDNI - underage people dni/dnr with this PLEASE Transferring to a new college in your second year should have been a breath of fresh air - far from your hometown, you considered this change of surroundings to be your anchor, a new start. New experiences, new friends, a new life away from prying eyes. And yet, just when you were sure nothing could go wrong, luck has outplayed you: beer in hand, a misstep. Liquid running down a scowling, pink-haired guys shirt. Little did you know an apology would not cut it. Soon, you would find yourself encountering the same judging eyes, turning your dreams for a fresh start into nothing but a nightmare.

word count: 7k

tags: longfic, alternate universe - college + no curses, slowburn, hurt/comfort, sexual content, transphobia and gender dysphoria, mental health issues, reader has anxiety/is a mad pushover sometimes, eventual soft sukuna, junpei is alive <3, organized crime(eventually...), everyone has their canon scars etc. + Reader either pre-T or in beginning stages of it, up for interpretation.

dividers by saradika-graphics

nav // part 2

Overwhelmed.

Catching your breath, you press your cheek against the soft warmth underneath you, someone's arms keeping you still. Your chest rises and falls, lips part after a strained gulp. Your dazed eyes look to the distance, away from the bed, then focus back on the tattooed flesh you are resting on. Your heart thumps in your ears, making it difficult to snap out of it and get ahold of yourself.

As a hand finds itself running up and down your back, lips landing on your forehead with a questioning hum, you try to understand how you ended up in this situation. Your eyes shut closed.

Faint music plays in the background.

Hmm...

It's a faint melody...

Getting closer..

Is that buzzing?

...

Shit!

You jolt up on your bed, quickly patting down your surroundings as you grab ahold of your phone, flipping it to check your time. Shit! You're late to class! Quickly throwing on some clothes, grabbing a banana from the fridge, you run out of your dorm, giving your hair a tight wrap in the midst of the motion - the door opening and closing with a whiny creak. Running down the stairs, you shout a stuttered hello back to a passerby.

"Hel-"

"HELLO!!!"

You finally break out of the student housing, dashing past two-story buildings with wires overhead, your feet are already starting to hurt as you try to cut the 5-minute stroll by half, or even less than that. Left turn, right, past the park, ah, parking lot.. You stare back at your map to check the number. S5. Almost there! You circle the building, running past the Science Lab and three lecture halls. You find yourself panting as you rest your palms onto your lap, having finally met the entrance sign, bold letters.

WELCOME TO...

At last, you half-jog into the classroom just before it hits 8:50. You straighten up so nobody looks at you weird, slow down and get yourself a seat, further back in the room. As you catch your breath, you stare at the clock, then the professor, as he greets the class. Leaning back into your seat, you slowly unpack your things until your eyes land on your phone.

New message, from him.

Ueeeehhh...

This is not how you wanted your first week to start.

You're new here, having just moved universities. Due to different courses and classes, you have to take some additional required classes from the previous year, and the schedules look to be clashing for now. Maybe they’ll get changed later, but chances are, you’ll be running from building to building at least twice per week. Attendance matters more than homework here, so you wonder how you’ll manage. Though, at least the students don’t seem like they would be causing trouble.

The entrance ceremony was just a few days ago - it had you worried sick with the amount of new faces and the vastness of the place, all the chatter.. There were so many people - exciting, but also so nerve wracking - it is a funny thing, you longed for such an environment since getting to the city, but also found it overwhelming all the same. You remember sitting near a trio of friends, they were mostly arguing between each other, but you couldn't hear about what. The girl was the louder one, clearly winning the argument over a pink haired guy, who seemed to be begging or whining about something. Some kind of movie night planning, but whatever he chose was too boring for her. Seated nearby, you were bound to get invited to the argument, as she asked you if you’ve ever heard of the movie…

Eh, back to earth. Class has started.

You sigh, focusing your vision on the notebook in front of you, drawing lines atop the paper to divide it into little boxes for the title, description, main writing... And a little corner at the edge for doodling. The lecture goes on without problem. It's only been a few minutes, like five at best. With a steady heartbeat, you decide to finally scan the room as you notice one peculiar student - his pink hair sticking out, sitting at the other end of the room. Your eyes meet, he hums and waves at you wordlessly. You do the same.

He seems nice enough, you think. The lecture goes on - you fidget with your pen, eye twitching - The more time passes, the more you feel yourself inching to check your phone. You take notes, read sentences, yet at the back of your mind dance around thoughts of the stranger. Seriously, of all times to pick.. Unable to resist the urge, you peek at your screen and scroll up, seeing that pinned notification.

“Morning, cutie.”

You feel your cheeks go warm. You were riding the high of moving out of your hometown into the vast, blossoming city of Yokohama. You could pretty much lose yourself in this crowd and nobody would even notice - a breath of fresh air from your previous state. However, it seems all of that excitement got to your head, and you got a bit impulsive. Drunk, and impulsive. Really, all it took was a few taps on the screen and a gay dating app finds itself in your hands. Only the day after did you realize the shit you got yourself into, cursing yourself as you try to wipe away the messages from the day before, as if rubbing at the screen would cause them to disappear.

What if you just ghost him? Sure, he's got a hot body, but do you really feel like dating him? Or hooking up? What if he's some homophobe lurking on the app? What if he doesn't like you? Maybe he's a bot, you should probably ask him a math question - or wait, no, don't ask anything, don't text him!!!

"Are you alright?" A classmate asks, snapping you out of your thoughts.

You nod, rubbing at your neck as you get your facial expression straightened out. Look at the board, copy keywords from it.. Ah, still the introduction to Plato. Nothing new was missed then. Still, you mull over.. Is something wrong with you? Maybe you just need to adjust to this, after all you could not be openly queer without shame. Don’t let your fears ruin this , you think to yourself, you probably just need to take a leap of faith . Your finger hovers over the send button after you type out a single hi, which takes a lot of energy out of you. Casual greetings, asking how he is.

“ I'm alright. Just finished working out.”, his message reads. Mulling over a response, you text back:

“ Ah, rest well and have enough protein then!”

He takes a lot of time to text back, so you leave your phone be, to write down some summaries for yourself, keeping tabs on the chat through your peripheral vision. As you notice a yet another message bubble appear, your skips a beat for the Nth time.

“Worrying about me that much? Cute.”

You don’t even realize you’ve been staring at the screen for a minute straight, your eyes getting irritated from the lack of blinking, the word cute repeating, no, echoing in your vision and ears, completely missing the follow-up message:

“How are you?”

“I'm okay. In class right now.”

“ Tsk. Pay attention then.”

You purse your lips, embarrassed, and follow suit.

Walking out of the lecture room, you get a can of soda from the vending machine and walk to the cafeteria. It is around a ten minute walk. There are many students outside, going in different directions. You take the longer, quieter route, your eyes following the familiar walls and signs. You pass by bushes, trees, street signs, the park, and finally - you reach the cafeteria. There are a lot of tables, a lot of people. It's a bit disorienting at first. Entering the queue, you look over the menu from afar, scanning the options by name and visual. Humming to yourself, you decide to go for ramen over potato salad today. Maybe you should meal prep for tomorrow?

You decide to sit closer to the window, enjoying some solitude, watching cars pass by. It will be a while until another lecture - you still have around 40 minutes on you to finish lunch. You figure to spend that time scrolling through social media and enjoying music. You put on your headphones, reminiscing over the news and latest events shown on screen, as a familiar melody caresses your ears, making you feel as if in a little bubble - nobody comes in, nobody comes out, just you, your food, the tab of the can you keep fidgeting with back and forth and..

You notice someone pass by in your peripheral vision, a muffled voice.. You push your headphones back to hear them speak after being poked in the shoulder. “Mind if I sit here?” A toothy smile greets you, worn by the same pink-haired boy. You shake your head no in response and greet him curtly after you swallow your bite. He sits at the chair, opposite of you, placing his lunch down.

“You're new here, right? I'm Itadori Yuji.” He extends his hand.

“Ah hi, I'm…” You clear your throat before saying your legal name, and introduce yourself properly. Feels nice to have your chosen name finally be used. He keeps eye contact while shaking your hand and hums.

“It's nice to meet you.”

“Nice to meet you too. Second year, right?”

“Yup. Education faculty. You?”

“Ah, urban science.”

“Cool, then we will have some classes in common.” He stretches and shifts his weight on the seat, stabbing at his meal as he puckers his lips - awkward silence. “Don't feel too awkward to ask me or my friend Fushiguro for help, he's better at this subject than me, honestly.” He looks at your notes after a beat, then grins awkwardly. You smile weakly. He is a bit hyperactive, but not malicious. He fidgets, tapping his leg against the floor, before finally asking:

“Sooo, you wanna eat with my friends? They’re under the urban faculty, too.” He draws out the sentence for a bit, then points to the table further into the centre of the room. There they are, the one with black hair, neutral facial expression, you assume that’s Fushiguro, and the girl - you didn’t catch her name just yet. She’s got short brown hair, side bangs, an eyepatch on one eye. You hum and nod slowly. Standing up, you hold the platter and follow behind as he talks about something - philosophy homework, was it?

You sit down and just listen to their conversation after exchanging introductions. You learn their majors, one of which was easy to guess - The girl, whose name you now know is Kugisaki Nobara, is leaning into fashion design studies. You hum along to their conversations and look to your lap as you eat. They’re not too imposing on you, which is nice. The girl compliments your bracelet - you thank her and compliment her phone charm back, avoiding looking at her patch - alienating someone else is the least of your plans. The charm is made of a few pastel pink beads, with little animal-shaped add-ons per each fourth row.

“Thanks. It’s a parting gift from a friend.” She replies back, leaning against her seat.

“Ah.” You smile politely. “Looks cool.”

You check the time on your phone. Just twenty minutes left or so, then another class starts, and the lecture room for this one is relatively close to the cafeteria - you check the map in your gallery again to make sure and nod to yourself. Other peoples’ voices become one mixed up muffled noise as you focus on your ramen, chewing through the meaty parts. Yum.

“So?” Itadori repeats.

“Hm?”

“What are your hobbies?” He asks for the second time, still enjoying his meatballs with veggies on the side, voice a bit muffled from eating and talking. The corners of your lips slightly raise in a smile as Kugisaki scolds him for chewing so loudly, giving you time to mull over your answer. Resting your chin on your fist, you let out a hum, thinking - there’s no wrong answer, yet you still hesitate.

“Ah, well..Photography, uh.. Comic books..” You start out quietly, smiling awkwardly as you stare to the ceiling, then back to Itadori. His eyes light up almost immediately.

“Comics!!” He exclaims and leans over the table, getting closer to you - A wide grin on his face. “Me too!” What kinda comics you into??”

“Ah, uh- I mean- Like," You mentally slap yourself for using that filler word, quieten down for a second and let out: "Junji Itos' stuff is pretty cool. Oh, and One Piece.."

His eyes lit up more than before, causing you to grin awkwardly - you can't help, he looks very cute when excited! The two of you talk on and on about comics - and you find out that there is an actual club for comic and movie lovers at your university, which seems to be a fun after-class activity to join. You write down a note on your phone about it to not forget to check it out later.

"That sounds pretty fun.." You murmur to yourself, then look up at Itadori. "Thanks."

In the midst of this little break in conversing, Kugisaki raises her hand, directing your attention to her. “You coming to the party?”

You blink, turning to look at her. “Party?”

“Ah right! I came up to you first to ask if you're coming to the party, we texted about it in the group chat” Itadori explains himself and looks over to you, an apologetic grin on his face.

“Where?” You ask curiously.

“The Angel club near the Koganecho station.” Fushiguro explains, speaking up for the first time. You make eye contact with him, then to Itadori as he adds on:

“Sort of like preparation for the semester and to get to know newbies. Starts at nine. You wanna come with?”

You think to yourself.

College party. Loud music, bright lights, people making out and yelling - you assume a combination of all above will happen and be common with the place he mentioned, after all, the parties you went to were only hosted by your school itself. No alcohol, no nothing. You lean back, thinking to yourself.. It is a bit of a nerve wracking scenario to be in, but also…Exciting.

“Is it gonna be loud as hell?”

“Nothing too crazy.”

Looking at the trio, you are met with this picture: The three of them looking at you with interest, each waiting with varying levels of interest for your response. You shrug - it's your first week, you’ve yet to have found your footing. FOMO would eat you alive, going alone would be boring - Maybe going in a group to a place like that would be better than alone, and they usually have quiet spots at these clubs, right? You’ve had enough of being homebound before moving to the city. You’ve been looking forward to a real college experience, and maybe this would be the start of it. Nothing too crazy, as Fushiguro said.

This is supposed to be your time to shine. Make some new friends. Itadori and the other two seem friendly.

“I’ll be there. And, invite me to that group if you can?”

In theory, dressing up should not be this hard. In theory, though. You run your hand over the wrap on your hair and sigh, staring back to the loads of clothes at your bed. With a heavy sigh, you try out yet another, simpler outfit, looking at yourself in the mirror right after. Jeans, button up, a jacket…Color matched, at least. You can’t afford to mull over it any more - you might be late! You shrug at yourself, pouting, and turn to the side, checking if your binder is covering things fine. Spacious enough to not choke at your ribs, functional enough to not make your chest clockable. Still, a slight bump is there that you don’t like. As a last resort, you throw on a shoulder bag, resting it atop your chest for more camouflaging. You put some essentials in the front pocket - keys, cash, etc..

Good enough. Now, hurry the hell out! Some steps there, some turns here, you walk your way to the exit. You step outside, walking to the bus stop - first you get to the station closest to the uni, then you get off at Koganecho.. You tap at your maps app, tilting your head and following the directions. The sky is a darker blue, it’s rather warm, not very windy. So you don’t have much to regret with not taking warmer clothes with you. You brought a mini umbrella just incase - April and rain go hand in hand this year. Holding onto the railing of the bus to find your footing as the vehicle stops near the station entrance, doing just the same at the metro itself, scrolling through cached games and downloaded comics on the way there. You get off and look to the street signs, calmly walking your way to the direction of the Angel club. It would be fun to go with Fushiguro or Kugisaki together since they’re under the same faculty as you, but.. You don’t know them much. Going alone feels easier, gets you to prepare better.

…

Loud, sure. Bright lights? Not too flashy. People making out? Not much. Yelling? Lots of it, people are singing along to the music coming from the speakers. You stand outside the club for a bit, looking through the entrance glass, shifting your weight from one foot to another. You’ve come a bit earlier than others, so you decide to lean against the wall and scroll on the phone for a bit before getting in - no need to get lost in the crowd. You open an app folder to click on the music app, but hesitate as you notice the very familiar chat icon, thumb hovering right over it. Ah.. You think to message that stranger again.

“You busy?”

You eye the timestamp on top, and hum. Probably busy. You scroll down, checking your notifications and notice a group-chat invitation, the sender being Itadori. You click “accept” and scroll the chat for a bit, smiling at the emoticons and memes used there. Seems nice. Homey. It doesn’t take more than a few minutes for the group to arrive, either. You see some similar faces, some from third year. Greeting them politely, you follow them into the establishment. You eye the entrance, bar, dance floor, and seating area to the side. You decide to get a drink first before sitting down. You notice a familiar pair walk in - Fushiguro and Kugisaki. Probably still waiting for Yuji - they don’t move from the entrance. You train your eyes back to the bartender.

“Ah, excuse me..” You speak up a second time so the bartender can hear you over the music. You order your drink and tap on the wood absentmindedly, waiting and looking at the crowd once more. There is Itadori, talking with someone, dragging another to the dance floor - you squint and notice that it’s Fushiguro. You chuckle and look further to the right - other students are the same - dancing, sitting and chatting, some smoking at the balcony, and of course, the usual patrons. You shrug to yourself. Paying for your drink, you slowly make your way to the seating area, making sure to avoid any obstacles as you hold your drink in one hand, covering the rim with the other. Someone calls a name out. Once, twice. Okay, now louder…

Ah, they’re referring to you! Just as you spin to meet eyes with an excited Itadori waving his arms to invite you to the dance floor, you suddenly feel something press against your shoulder, causing you to fall forward and collide with what seemed to be a wall. So does the drink you oh so carefully held by the rim, tipping over and landing against bright-white wallpaper. Wait, aren’t the walls in here black? You jolt and stagger backwards only to realize that you didn’t just collide with a wall, but a person. You blink a few times as you process their pink hair, then their scowling face - Definitely not Itadori - and..Ah. Oh. You stained their shirt.

“Sorry!” You apologize immediately, wide eyed, and glance upwards yet again only to see a pair of red eyes staring down at you. Straight nose, red eyes, grown out dark roots showing a bit, must've been a week or two post-dying his hair. His eyebrow raises, looking you up and down. For a second there, his facial expression looks almost cute, handsome in his surprise, until he gets his focus back, feeling his friend's eyes on him and frowns at you, distaste filling his eyes.. Looking you up and down, as if having already read you, the man's eyes then fill with indifference after a huff. He scowls, curses something to himself and passes you by, giving you a harsh shove as you try to cover what was left of your drink from the second impact.

Something like, watch where you walk, or, idiot . He tugs on his shirt, his knuckles turning white, as if holding back on an outburst due to being in public - or you looking like a freshman. You gulp, still processing the events that happened in just under a few seconds, then do the cowards walk to the balcony to avoid the stares and questioning eyes from others.

Your heart thumps in your ears, and god they feel hot to the touch just from the embarrassment of it all! You cover one ear, trying to get the thumping to stop. You just went to a party with these people for the first time and what is the second thing you do right after getting a drink? Of course, spill it on some assholes’ shirt! Your life is over! You groan and sit at the chair, pouting at your spilled drink - some of it got on your shirt too, but that’s the least of your worries right now.

“Let it go, Sukuna! She’s just some newbie after all..” One of Sukunas friends comment as they walk by the balcony, unaware you’re there. You cringe internally and grip at your wrist, staring down at the ground. You bite your lip and try to fight back the wave of dysphoria crashing over you - just why? You tried. You hid your frame, you had your binder, you made sure to not act effeminate, performed and performed and got your act right - but the moment you got startled your voice became high pitched again. Or is it your hair? Height? What the hell was it now?!

Fuck. You lean against the railing behind you and grip the armrest of the chair tight, staring out to the car lane… Alright. You can feel yourself reach a limit.

Breathe in, blow out the flowers, again, and again, you stutter out your breaths until they even out, slowing… You breathe in sharply at last and close your eyes. Get your shit together. This isn’t the most life-wrecking mistake to make in your first week. At least you didn’t.. Your mind can’t make up examples, but surely it isn’t so bad. You turn to leave the balcony, only to get startled by the sight of Fushiguro leaning against the entrance frame. Just when did he get in here?

“You alright?”

You nod and grin weakly. “Just an embarrassing moment.” You say with a shrug, trying to act chill. Or at least chill-like.

“Ah.. Ignore him. He’d pick a fight with a wall just for being in his way.” He shrugs and backs away from the frame. “Come sit with us soon?”

You nod at him. He hums and goes back to the crowded party. Sukuna… You finally register the name once calm and think it over a few times, wondering why it sounded so familiar to you. You can’t wrap your mind around it. Maybe he has a similar name to a classmate? Su…Su… You pout, thinking to yourself even as you get to the seating area, waving to your new friends as you sit at the end of the lounge chair. You see Fushiguro exchange a brief look with a few, as if they were talking of something.. Your eyebrow quips.

“Somethin’ wrong?” Itadori asks, offering a treat to you - an Edamame. They got some sweets while you were busy pouting at yourself on the balcony, they adorn the table. Your mouth waters a bit - quickly, you thank him and take a bite, then shake your head after a beat.

“Nothin’.”

He hums. Kugisaki just fiddles with her phone charm and looks away. It’s obvious: They all saw the interaction, but won’t comment on it for your sake. And you’re better off without having awkward conversations, anyway. In the midst of the conversation, you catch yourself tapping at your phone, pretending to have a message, and stiffen. With a quick headshake, you pull at the zipper of your bag and slide your phone in. Fidgeting with it nervously when you’re supposed to relax and get to know people is a no-go. You join the conversation, slowly, a relaxed smile landing on your face.

There are some new faces - friends of the trio, they study over at Tokyo, though. Zenin Maki - a tall girl with short black hair, with some markings on her face and her forearms - is a stern looking political science student, sitting next to her is a man named Okkotsu Yuta - a psychology student with a kind smile but very tired-looking eyes. He has a ring on his finger that he fidgets with a lot, which you focus on for a bit until moving on. Ah, and Junpei - or more like, he was supposed to come but couldn’t. Some sort of movie marathon night.

“Sounds fun.”

“Eh. Just a bunch of horror movies again.” Maki waves her hand. They talk about assignments, projects, portfolio work - Kugisaki begins showing off her sketches for the next week, taking in some critique - mostly praise. You eye her drawings silently and hum along.

“I’ll get another drink. You want anything?” You ask and look around the table. Yuta politely asks for one, you nod. As you order the drinks, you notice in your peripheral, a man sitting at the bar stool. A double take makes you realize that it’s Sukuna, and he still looks pissed off. Before he catches your gaze, you quickly look away. Thank god you didn’t stand close to him! Tense, your shoulders stiffen, you side-eye him once more, just to make sure. He is sitting there, arms crossed, a black shirt on. His white shirt on the table, still stained, still damp - evidence of your fuckup clear. Maybe you should apologize? Offer a napkin? You purse your lips, taking a few seconds until you straighten your back and breathe in quickly. You eye the bar table and notice a batch of napkins. You could ask for some. You pay for the drinks and thank the bartender, fidgeting with their covers - at your request, they came with safety caps, and.. - You hesitate.

Come on, just apologize and move on. Nothing bad.

You fidget, still standing near the bar. You look over your shoulder, then to the napkins, barista, Sukuna, napkins- Ahhh!!! You muster up the courage to call for the barista. “Sorry, could I take a few?” You point at the napkins. He nods calmly and moves back to the other end of the counter. You pick up a few, carefully, and head to the end of the stool as planned. Around five minutes passed after you first left to get the drinks, maybe some more due to you stalling. Embarrassment does not seem to cover what you feel as you slowly inch closer to the man, who has his back facing you, and try to get his attention. You open your mouth, then think back on it and just tap his shoulder. He turns his head and gives you a glare.

“Uhm, sorry.” You retract immediately and raise a hand in an i-come-in-peace gesture, cringing. “..I wanted to apologize for the mess..” You say a bit louder to be heard over the music and place napkins near where his palm rests on the table. “I think I saw a heater around here, you might be able to dry your shirt without burning it. Or somethin’. ”

Sukuna looks at you, eyebrow raised, then gives a quick glance to the napkins. Back to you. Back to napkins.. His expression changes to a mix of annoyance and confusion as he speaks out, loudly: “I don’t need this.” He cocks his head, looking up at you again. His voice is a bit low, but not sounding as pissed off or bassy as before - a strange mix. The man's red eyes pry at yours, as if confused as to why you’d even offer him anything, or approach him in the first place. He scowls, trying to read you, and this is where it clicks for you.

Did he take this act as something rude? Or a suck up gesture? Ah fuck!!!

You grin like a dummy, eye twitching in a nervous tic. “Sorry.” You apologize again in a mumbling, awkward manner and take a few steps back to the stool you were seated at just a few seconds ago. Your hands find the now-covered drinks, and your feet lead you away from the stool, back to the lounge chair, each drink in hand - slowly, trying to not bump and spill them again, even with their caps on.

Back at the seating area, you sip at your drink until the space around you gets all floaty and muffled. You blink slowly, following along to whatever conversation your classmates are having. The back of your head finds refuge against the softness of the sofa, eyes staring at the ceiling with colors-a-plenty reflecting against it, like watercolor bleeding towards the back of a thin paper. A few minutes pass - You look to your classmates, then to the table, your hands, holding a now empty glass - behind yourself, at the dancing ground, and see him again, grumpy, staring down at a person standing or half-dancing near him, grumbling something at them. They look to be listening but not very receptive or angry at his behalf. White hair with red streaks, a stylish suit on.. They look cute! But with that guy ranting at them, though...

You remember, suddenly, a meme of a drunk guy talking about something very emotionally to a girl who couldn’t give less of a damn and snort to yourself, causing a few people on the couch to peek at you curiously. You smile nervously and look to the side. “Sorry, random memory.” It's either the buzz from the little alcohol you had, or the awkward mini - interactions, or you just need to have a single conversation where you don't end up embarrassed - but for whatever reason you still feel flustered as hell. You pout and let out a sigh. You lock eyes with Itadori for a sec, then notice the others eyeing you curiously, still. You clear your throat and decide on a quick topic change:

“Have y’all seen that new horror movie?”

..Right.

You sip some water, slowly getting out of the dizzy spell you got into back at the club. It is now 11:30 pm - way too late to catch a bus after getting back to the nearby station, but a nightwalk to the dorm isn’t an issue for you, a good walk and some fresh air is sure to get you relaxed and tired - straight to bed...Possibly. Kugisaki and Fushiguro take the metro with you, though there’s not much to talk about - Megumi stares at the wall in front of him, Nobara taps away on her phone, possibly messaging a friend or so - without Itadori here as a conversation carrier, you feel too shy to really..Say much. Except for thanking them for the invitation, some pleasantries to exchange on their university work - Fushiguro had some nice stuff going there, already setting up to volunteer and intern. So, that small talk goes smoothly.

At least they don’t hate you, right?.. Ah, you’re still tipsy for sure, especially for having these thoughts. You tap your forehead and sigh, then turn to them once more.

"It was fun today." You whisper quietly, then look to the blinking light at the ceiling of the carriage.

"Yeah."

Getting out of the station, you find your breaths turning into little clouds before you, your nose feeling a bit chilly, same with the tips of your fingers - oh, and the air is cool, too. Sudden unreported weather changes, yay!.. You frown and rub your palms together, thinking - just how long until you get there, 15 minutes? 20? Your mind swirls, counting down the seconds out of pure impatience.

“Damn it’s cold” Kugisaki complains, rubbing her shoulders as her teeth begin to chatter. Megumi agrees, trying to warm his palms as well - he’s got just a button up on and a light jacket, though you guess it doesn't do much for warming him up. You hum and look down at your attire - your jacket is warm enough, you reckon, and it's usually a guy thing to offer, or just a polite thing..Either way!! After some hesitation and awkward shifting, you take it off and walk toward Kugisaki, tapping on her shoulder as you offer it to her with a slight smile. You get a bit embarrassed as you realize, you tapped on the side of her eyepatch. She shifts awkwardly, then turns her body to you, noticing the jacket in your hand.

“Here. It's a warm one.”

Surprised at first, Kugisaki stares at you, then accepts after some non-verbal persuasion. “Thanks.” She says after a beat. You hum back wordlessly, crossing your arms - now you feel even more chilly, but it’s fine. Fushiguro is in the same student house as you - the dormitories are, however, divided by gender. So of course, the two of you walk Kugisaki to her dorms first - She hands you your jacket back and smiles in a laid-back manner.

“See ya guys.”

“See you.”

As you walk by the now closed lecture halls and cafeterias with Fushiguro, you reach the entrance to your dormitory, first floor. Fushiguro waves you goodbye. “Mines on this floor.” You nod, then still for a second. You rub your neck awkwardly and call out to him before he turns to his room. “Fushiguro?”

He hums at you, hand on the handle of his dorm as you meet eyes. You focus at the scar on his cheek for a split second, then back to his eyes. “Thanks.” You smile slightly. You noticed the gaze he gave to your classmates back at the club, silently telling them to not bring the whole Sukuna thing up, and sure, there was some teasing from Maki, but it didn’t go into an interrogation-style disaster. He nods again and disappears into his dorm, expressionless. I guess he's just like that, or somethin. You walk up the stairs, pass by a few rows of numbers until you meet your dorm door. One, one two..Aha!

Before you even get to unlock the door, you hear some loud, bass-y music coming from the next door dorm and knot your eyebrows, confused. You double, triple check the time on your phone - it's past midnight now, is it not? - You hum to yourself, shrug and get to your dorm. You have late lectures tomorrow, so the background noise will not worry you much.. You do feel a bit embarrassed at the selfishness, there are probably other students cursing this guy for the loud music, but, ahh…They can talk to him themselves!

You walk by the kitchen counter and stretch over it to reach the fridge, fetching yourself a cold water bottle and taking a sip. Icy water fills your empty stomach and burns at your insides, suddenly making you aware of the numb pain that’s been following you for around two hours - and, a loud rumble. You realize, you haven't gotten a full meal since lunchtime, minus the sweet Edamame. And that was what lunch at, one pm? Ugh, the Edamame... Your mouth waters again and you groan. Your stomach rumbles even more in retaliation, scolding you - you’re hungry as shit. Sighing, you approach the counter as you change into comfier clothes - your shoulder bag nests itself on the chair handle, shirt and jacket leaning over the top, waiting to be folded, binder slid into a hard-to-find pocket of your bag - old habits die hard.

Once in your jammies, you throw packaged instant noodles into a bowl, pour the water in, and set the bowl to sit in the microwave for a few minutes - thank god they don’t have you asking for permission to use them - and open up the laptop that’s been abandoned on the desk, pressing on the power button a few times impatiently. You really feel like binge-watching a show or two. Clothes folded and put away, shoulder bag emptied, you sit hunched over at the desk, scrolling the web as you pick at your lips with your teeth. You had a few shows saved on your watch list, maybe one of them will do the trick. As you scroll on, you hear a notification sound, or a buzz. You eye the edge of the screen- nothing. Move your eyes toward your phone - ah, there it is. He replied.

He replied.

You swipe up to open the conversation and squint as you read the message.

“Sorry, I was with my friends. Hope your day went well. ( ◠‿◠ ) ”

A smiling emoticon, how cute. Fidgeting with the edge of the table, you pick a show, then type away a fast response. Maybe this isn’t the time to multitask, but if you focus on him too much, you might text him something silly. Your face feels like putty again just from the thought - at least you have the self awareness to not start ranting on him.

“It did, I met some new friends, got home just a bit ago. :-)”

Is that emoticon corny?

The microwave beeps. You stand up, turning it off and popping up the door to take out the bowl. You lick your lips, drop the flavor packet in and get to mixing with your chopsticks. You finally take your first taste and almost sob from happiness. A meal!!! Oh, and it’s too hot, burns! - Cringing, you place it on the table and rest back onto your seat, waiting for the meal to cool off as you press space on the laptop, giving the website the cue to play the episode. Though, you don’t give much attention to the pilot - despite your wishes to refrain - your eyes are still glued to the phone.

“Why are you awake so late? Go to sleep.”

“But I wanna talk to you :(“ - You pout as you type out this message. Corny.

“We can talk in the morning, silly.”

You try to argue but, per usual, he’s gone offline as quickly as he did get online. Right, it's 12:30, you can't expect him to stay up for you just to chat. Ah, but that would be nice… You pout some more and fidget on your chair, rocking, moping. Before you get stuck in daydream land, you reason - it’s probably a busy day for him tomorrow - he said he had a meeting of sorts to attend this week... Soooo, no staying up and talking like that one night. You bite at your lip, peeking at the bowl expectantly, then shift on your seat. Maybe, the lack of company will give you time to spend with yourself and just chill out, me-time, self care, or whatever they call it. Oh, and enjoy that shitty tv show.

At last, you pick at the noodles and take another taste-test. Cooler. Yummy, too! You enjoy your spicy noodles while half-following the plot of the tv show, your stomach slowly letting up with the rumbles and pain. You stare at the characters arguing within each other, giggling along to some dialogue “That’s silly..” You mutter to yourself. After a few episodes, you find yourself a bit bored, or more like, a mix of tired yet restless. Calming stroll and straight to bed, right. You laugh a bit at past you, yet know that the future you will curse you for staying up so late. Staring to the clock, you rock yourself on your chair, then impulsively decide on doing the best next thing to doomscrolling to cure your boredom - Homework. You clap your hands, then slide a notebook out of your bag, fiddling around with it. If sleep doesn’t find you, some early homework sessions will. You open a google docs tab and start typing away, researching for an essay, a few more tabs open, and some more...And some more, until you have enough in your brain - or pinned to the top of your document to refer to as you begin writing an essay on Platos Forms. Your eyelids lower, eyes squinting here and there sometimes. When you begin to feel a burn, you decide to turn an eye comfort filter.

By the time you’re done with the stage 2 editing, you check the clock once more. Must have been twenty minutes or so, you think...

Almost 3 AM.

You blink slowly, gaze deadpan. Not again? Groaning, you, save the file and shut off your laptop. Tidy up the table, get the bowl rinsed, and get yourself to bed. A sore ache finds itself at the base of your back as you stand up, stretch or lean over anything- you sat like a shrimp again, for sure. You whine and drop yourself onto the cold bed, relaxing underneath tons of blankets, curling up into a big comfy ball. "Stop hurtin'" you argue with your back, but it's upset at you for a reason, so it speaks not.

Eyes closed and hugging a plushie, having put on some nice background ambiance to fall asleep to, you think to yourself - that's a nice way to end your good-to-bad-to-awful-to-meh-but-alright-and-great kind of day - with a smile on your face. But all of the sudden, that loud neighbour next-door becomes your problem again. A big one, in fact. You've got no tv shows or sounds of the keyboard being tapped at, pen making muffled noise against paper - no, sir, just you and your ambiance - and now, all that noise next-door becomes completely impossible to ignore. Each time you find your eyes closed, ready to drift off to sleep, whateverthefuck that guy is playing in his room gets louder and louder, buzzing and vibrating right against the wall - right where your bed is!!! Aghh!!! You groan, kick at the wall and roll over, covering your ears.

At last, the music stops. Though, whether you're awake by the time that happens to even notice is up to discussion. There goes that "good ending" to your day -

You fell asleep with a pout.

#MDNI #ryomen sukuna x reader #sukuna x reader #sukuna x you #jjk x reader #x reader #ok i tagged the shit out of it so now yall dont get to complain #slow burn #long fic

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