#anxiety-banana tag!

[renegadeontherunn]

ahhhh 🧸 and 🐑 for the ask game? <3

ahhh thanks for the ask ab!!!

from these cottagecore asks

teddy bear: do you ever want to raise kids someday?

honestly, i'm not sure! i'm only 20 (about to turn 21, ayyy) so kids + all that feels pretty far in my future. i actually really like kids + interacting with + talking to them and i don't think i'd be necessarily bad at raising kids, so maybe! ask me again in like 9 years and i might have a better answer for you alsdjlajkakl

sheep: what is a comfort item you own?

ahh this is a cutie one! i would probably say my stuffed animal named lovey. i love stuffed animals in general + have quite a few, but she is i think the oldest stuffed animal i own. she's a little pink and white dog and one of her ears is like half sewn on and she has one pink eye and one white eye and i take her everywhere. any time i'm on a trip that's overnight, she's packed immediately. any time i'm having an especially hard day, boom lovey cuddle sesh. i just love her, she's so cute and has literally been with me through like my entire life and so yeah, she's definitely a comfort to me :)

[the-ephemeral-nature-of-being]

[vulpixelates]

new year's resolution: revive my tagging system

[gyuswhore]

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.

[paloma-ascends-into-hellfire]

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.

[dantakeyoman]

The Entire Sully Family Shows Out For Your Iknimaya and Supports You (SFW / Comfort)

Reader is Fem! Omaticaya

CW: i love the Sully family so much, Neteyam is such a supportive bf (even tho he’s technically your crush in this but tomato, tamato), you kinda sorta almost die

“Neteyam,” you whispered, nervously taking his hand as Eyati finished her turn, happily soaring in the air with her new ikran. 

“You will be fine. I believe in you,” he smiled, giving your hand a firm squeeze.

“But what if I’m not? What if none of the ikran pick me? Or what if I can’t catch it?” you listed off, your brain already spiraling with different scenarios, all of them ending in you failing.

“You think too much,” he lightly laughed, giving you a soft flick in the temple. 

It made your nose twitch. 

Today was the day of your Iknimaya. And the entire Sully family came out to support you.

“You have been practicing for this more than anyone. It would be impossible for you to fail.”

“And even if you do, you can always ride with me,” Lo’ak smirked, resting his chin on your shoulder.

“Tsahey!” Neytiri scolded, smacking her son upside the head for mentioning the possibility, the boy letting out a loud ouch!

She stood in front of you, a warm smile on her face, as she placed a hand on your heart.

“You must feel it in here. Be quick, and let your heart guide you,” she assured.

“I believe in you, (y/n)!” Tuk happily exclaimed, clinging to your leg.

“Thank you, Tuk,” you smiled, ruffling her hair a little bit.

“Alright, kid. You’re up,” Jake chimed, watching the second to last kid finish.

You took a deep breath, letting go of Neteyam’s hand and getting ready to walk away.

That is....until you felt something wrap around your thigh.

It was Neteyam’s tail.

He pulled you back into his chest, placing a heavy kiss on your lips.

Your eyes shot wide, and you blushed a dark shade of blue when you realized the entire Sully family was watching you.

You kissed back for a moment, before trying to pull out, but Neteyam kept you firmly in place.

It made Neytiri smile.

You were a fine girl, practically perfect for her son. She would be happy to call you a part of the family if Neteyam chose you as his mate.

“Ahem,” Jake cleared his throat, smirking.

The time for love would be later. He wanted to see his pupil kick some ass.

The two of you separated, and you looked at the boy in disbelief.

Neteyam had never kissed you before. 

Holding hands and tight hugs, sure. Maybe the occasional cheek peck. 

But never on the lips.

It felt good.

“For luck,” Neteyam smirked, slowly removing his tail from your leg.

You smiled, puffing out your chest with newfound confidence as you walked towards the crowd of ikran, Jake following closely behind you.

“Remember, kid,” he started, resting his hand on your shoulder. “Trust your instincts. Let your mind go blank and your body’ll know what to do.”

You smiled, giving him a firm nod.

Jake and Neytiri tag-teamed in teaching you the ways of the hunter, Neytiri focusing on the spiritual side, and Jake focusing the physical.

Neteyam and Lo’ak had finished their training and Iknimaya already, and now it was your turn.

You whipped out your rope, slowly stalking closer to the banshees, the entire family coming out the shade of the cave to watch.

You got into a predatory stance, hissing at all the ikran that were near you.

Every single one of them flew away.

Not deterred, you went to another group of them, hissing once again.

They all flew away as well.

Shit.

The anxiety began to sink in.

Not a single one was hissing back. Not a single one wanted to kill you. Not a single one wanted you as a rider.

Were you not worthy? Did you do something wrong? You were sure you were doing everything correctly, so why wasn’t it working?

You were about to hiss at the third group, when all of a sudden, a huge, black ikran landed on the rock, making the whole mountain shake.

“HOLY SHIT!” Lo’ak shouted, going wide eyed.

It had a 20 meter (65.6 feet) wingspan, at least, and razor sharp jaws, with talons the length of a banana.

Neteyam’s heart twisted in fear.

That thing was giant. One wrong move and you could be incredibly injured, or worse.

Dead.

His stomach hurt at the thought.

You stood there, gaped, as the impossibly large ikran stood before you, hissing back as it wound up it’s claws.

“SNAP OUT OF IT, (Y/N)! MOVE!” Jake shouted, his voice shaky.

“MA CHILD!” Neytiri exclaimed, fearful.

This was bad. 

Neither of them had ever seen an ikran this big, it’s size only second to that of Toruk. 

It could very easily kill you.

Shaking yourself out of it, you tuck and rolled, dodging the talons just in time.

Now that it’s wing was low, you jumped on top of it, using it as a ramp to run onto it’s back.

It violently thrashed around, making you lose balance the fling you off, sending you over the ledge.

“MA CHILD!” Neytiri gasped.

“(Y/N)!” Neteyam screamed, starting to run towards you.

“Wait! Look!” Lo’ak grabbed him, pointing to where you were thrown. 

Neteyam watched as your blue hand grabbed onto the ledge, the other one helping push you up.

When you fell over, you tucked the rope in your mouth and grabbed onto a root before you could free-fall.

You were a little banged up, but otherwise okay.

“That only took 10 years off my life,” Jake sighed, clutching his heart.

Hoisting yourself back onto the rock, you stood up, now angry.

“Alright you little shit. You wanna come at me? Huh?!” You spat, taking the rope out your mouth and baring your teeth.

The ikran turned to you, getting into a predatory stance and hissing.

It looks like she didn’t like your shouting.

You got into the stance as well, hissing back even louder, showing your fangs.

He didn’t know why, but watching you be so strong, so fearless, made Neteyam not only erupt in pride, but in another feeling. 

One he didn’t know the meaning of.

It made his skin burn, his stomach flutter, and his tail wag.

Lo’ak smirked, noticing this.

“You are such a bottom,” he teased, making Neteyam blush deeply.

“Am not!”

“Will you two shut it! Look!” Kiri hushed, pointing at you.

The boys whipped their heads around to look at you, who was swirling around your rope.

Without warning, you ran for it head on, letting out a loud war cry. 

The ikran roared, getting itself ready for what ever was coming.

As you got closer, you leaned down in your run, scooping up some dirt in your hand and tossing it into the beast’s eyes.

It let out a loud cry, thrashing it’s head about to get the dust out.

Taking this opportunity, you ran up the ikran’s wing, jumping onto it’s neck roughly.

Tossing the rope over it’s mouth, you tied it shut, keeping it from biting.

“Yes! That’s it! You got it!” Jake happily cheered on.

“Make the bond!” Neytiri called.

You quickly grabbed the banshee’s kuru, and were just about to make the bond when roughly flapped it’s wings, doing a back-flip and sending you both over the ledge.

Not again!

“Shit!” Jake exclaimed, the entire family sprinting to where you fell off, Neteyam being the fastest.

“Is (y/n) okay?!” Tuk asked fearfully, clinging to Kiri.

“I don’t...I don’t know,” she nervously answered, squinting her eyes to try and see.

The clouds were dense up there. You couldn’t see a thing below.

“That’s it,” Neteyam dismissed, letting out a quick call to his ikran. 

“Nuh uh. You gotta let her do this on her own,” Jake shut down, holding back his son as his ikran landed next to them.

“But what if she’s hurt?! She could be free falling right now and we wouldn’t know it!” Neteyam exclaimed, thrashing in his father’s grip.

He couldn’t let you die like that. Falling from a height this great would surely leave nothing left of you.

It was a cruel and violent end that you didn’t deserve.

“Ma Jake,” Neytiri nervously chimed, a knowing look in her eye.

She couldn’t say she wasn’t nervous either.

After taking you under her wing, she sees you as a fifth child, as part of the family.

She didn’t know what she would do if you died during your Iknimaya.

“I trust her abilities. She wouldn’t let herself die so easily,” Jake stayed firm in his position, still holding back his agitated son.

Just then, as if the answer to six prayers, you burst through the clouds, soaring on the back of the abnormally large ikran.

“ILEY!” you joyfully shouted, throwing a triumphant fist in the air as your banshee did a backflip, your happiness reflecting through her.

“Alright!” Lo’ak cheered you on.

“Way to go, (y/n)!” Kiri smiled, happily dancing around with Tuk.

Neytiri smiled, ululating, as she and Jake shared a big hug, Jake sighing into it.

You scared him for a moment there.

And Neteyam couldn’t help but watch you in pride, and a little bit of awe.

You looked so majestic as you flew through the sky, like something out of his mother’s stories.

Your joyful smile, the wind blowing through your hair, the overwhelming sense of freedom he already knew you were feeling.

It all looked gorgeous on you. 

And he now had no doubt in his mind that you were the woman, you were the warrior, he wanted to be his mate.

...

taglist !!

@vane28282, @remutoast, @p1nkprint, @ladyorchidia, @anthonys-viscountess, @karmz-7319, @cantbuysophialove, @scarabruhs, @an0th3rsss, @deloe18, @mariiyoushi, @av1xar, @alexxcorona113, @may-and-lay, @overlyfancybreakfastfoods, @harshita-hiranyamayi, @qui-02, @myheartfollower, @morks-watermelon, @bangtanxberm, @adavenus, @sweetdayme4427, @lilac13, @torchbearerkyle, @dazedshoon, @rovckwell, @wonieee, @0710khj, @multifandomreader73, @kadu-5607, @la-cey, @roseazura, @sophiejiro, @angelbeari, @bludyl

[assortedvillainvault]

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?

[ladysif8]

Something Sweet

•Pairing: Steve Rogers/Bucky Barnes

•Rating: General Audience

•Tags: Recovering Bucky Barnes, Winter Soldier Bucky Barnes, Captain America Steve Rogers, Bucky is learning to cook/bake, Domestic Bliss, Fluff, Boys in love, kissing, cuteness

•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

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[togepies]

OC Deep Dive

tagged by @arcandoria, thank youuu! tagging with zero pressure: @irrewilderer, @seraphfighter, @setaflow, @glitchinginthegarden, and @miss--river!!

I NEVER talk about Nova enough so I'm taking this opportunity to do so ♡

-> Phobias and other fears: Nova's biggest fear is failure. Followed by snakes.

(putting the rest under a read more!)

-> Pet peeves: when people talk during movies, people who are always late (wear a watch or something), and unsolicited advice.

-> 3 things you can always find in their bedroom: abandoned cups of tea, books, model space ships

-> First thing they notice in a person: How they carry themselves. Nova tends to make judgements based off of it, whether those judgements are right or wrong is up for debate.

-> On a scale of 1-10, how high is their pain tolerance? Probably around an 8! Girl's been through some shit.

-> Do they go into fight or flight mode when under pressure? Fight, always. Whether it's physical fighting to defend herself or a verbal argument...she will fight you.

-> Do they come from a big family/are they a family person? No and no. She's an only child with a poor relationship to her blood relatives so she's never been one for family.

-> What animal represents them best? Maybe a tiger! Since they symbolize courage and strength...and they're pretty badass.

-> What is a smell they dislike? Popcorn is number one, she just thinks it's gross

-> Have they broken any bones? Multiple, yes. Her line of work isn't exactly OSHA approved

-> How would a stranger likely describe them? Strangers often describe her as cold, ruthless, and intimidating. The scowl on her face does her no favors (resting bitch face queen)

-> Are they a night owl or morning bird? Night owl but forced to be a morning bird...she has no sleep schedule.

-> What is a flavor they hate and a flavor they love? She hates anything banana flavored (valid), but loves anything cherry flavored (girl why)

-> Do they have any hobbies? She looooves reading! She always has at least 2 books going at a time. She's unstoppable. She also journals, and tries fish keeping but well. She's not very good at it. And then of course, building model space ships. *sigh* she would have loved legos.

-> Boom, surprise birthday party! How do they react to surprises? Do not do this lmao. Nova is a planner, she doesn't like unexpected anything let alone a party. tbh her instincts would kick in and she would probably punch the first person she sees

-> Do they like to wear jewelry? No. She's gotten used to not wearing any that she never really thinks about it, and she just...forgets jewelry even exists. She does have EDI's ring though- she just keeps it in the box tucked away for safe keeping.

-> Do they have messy handwriting? Absolutely. She never learned to write (everything was digital), so if she writes anything at all, it's bound to be a disaster.

-> What are the two emotions they feel the most? Anxiety and frustration

-> Do they have a fabric? I don't know enough about fabrics to answer this 😅 I guess...wool maybe? It's kind of scratchy...like her personality

-> What kind of accent do they have? Standard American. Her voice claim is canon fem!Shep so!

[fishii28]

! fishii | any prns | minor

! @mene-morphosis3 is the fyodor to my nikolai :3

! my lovely platonic wifeys @starrissm and @thegolden-tigeress <3

! byi/dni | rules | moots | tags

! if yk me irl, do not ineract (unless i've given you this blog)

! dividers by @dollywons and @saradika-graphics

! matching with @thegolden-tigeress <3

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 and so many more! feel free to ask or recommend!

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 to uhh 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 @f-vents.

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.

! btw you can ask for my writing blog iyw, otherwise if ur here from that blog welcome! :)

! mod of @lil-jinko , @worlds-best-striker , @hiori-yo and @bachisagi-post-spotted!!

[lixenn]

So I went absolutely bananas...

After participating in the picrew tag game (thanks again @cloudvaria for tagging me 🫡) I decided to go insane and do this for ALL OF MY OCS THAT I HAVE VISUALS OF!

It was so fun, I literally couldn't stop, so without further ado have my housekeeping AU cast in pixel version:

Naturally we are starting with Chief who looks extra tired and has the health of a wet paper towel. I forgot to give him his beauty mark but I wanted the double eyebags anyways, so just use your imagination for that🫡Since Dan loves plant and is good at gardening he gets high plant skill (whatever that plant stands for i have no clue lmao)

Introducing catboy!Dave into the world! Because Dave is so majorly catcoded I couldn't resist. His hair is pink because of course it is, that guy never stays at one hair colour for long. High cooking stat because my baby is skilled in the kitchen, which is good because he's Chief's main food provider.

Vlasta! @childe-of-saulot tagging you because well it's Vlasta lol Notably the background for Vlasta is different from all the others because I really couldn't match their vibes with colthing and hair so they get the scary background instead. Also! Their name didn't fit! How dare! I used Dave's nickname for them instead. Vlasta gets all the sharp pointy things because they deserve them. The demon asthetic was added because I'm still obssessed with VV's demon play photos, so Vlasta gets the horns and tail too.

The first Valerie visual! And it's pixel art lmao 🤣 But it's pretty accurate imo so here we go! Val has the highest attack because she is badass, also two knives because there was no naginata option so she just gets more weapons 👍🏼

It honestly didn't surprise me but Yves was the easiest one to make, simply because their vibe really fits this picrew so hard. I'm so happy with the dress option it's so yvescore TT I don't know if i officially mentioned it but Yves fights with a fan (but not often, they avoid conflict if possible but they are still prepared in case they need to defend themselves).

And last but not least the local librarian Cilmi! @dreamieparadise Look! It's the boy! The hair isn't a perfect match because his is in a bob but that one was the only textured type that I liked. He got two books because a librarian can't just have one book in his inventory. He also got anti anxiety meds which are for René. High intelligence stat because he's a very smart cookie.

---

Anyways that's it for now! I will probably do my other ocs once I actually know what they look like (and if I don't forget).

Not making this a tag game but if anyone also wants to do this with their ocs here is the link to the picrew. In case you wanna join me in my insanity I would love to see the result so feel free to tag me if you post your own picrew pixel ocs!

[ch1-kasak0]

Pumpkin War

By - TillyTittle

Bendy is clueless and keeps getting harrassed by pumpkins, not really cup head based but it's silly

the child died a long time ago (so why do you cry now?)

By - w1nt3r_1s_h3r3

Mug reflects on his relationship w cup as he's dying, very sad I almost cried 🔥🔥

Colly One-shots

By -Icecore17

Just that entire series is so cute, grr

Goddamn it, I just Wanted a Snack

By - MidnightFire830

Prince cup is *cough cough* sick, and dice is a bastard, granny is awesome

It Takes Two to Tango

By - ijustwantsomesoup

Bendy has an anxiety/panic attack, cup is horrifically bad at comforting, but it works, little stinkers

The Purr (Which definitely, for sure, did not happen!)

By - PerriBoo

Bendy purrs, he's in denial

and he said it felt like heaven (like redemption)

By - w1nt3r_1s_h3r3

I think this is about if mugs had actually died, cup is all about revenge and he just kinda idk.. Very angsty, love it but I almost cried again

Circus-y

By - whatsafelony

The cupbros are indigenous, cup doesn't like paint

A messed up Piano

By - Icecore17

Cup can play the piano cause mugs couldn't, bendy gets to wake up to the most depressed piano in existence (I think, I haven't read it in awhile)

Evil Author Day 2021

By - Mercowe, ThisAnimatedPhantom

Cups and fanny talk in the rain, canny kinda GOD I LOVE THIS FANFIC

Lil' Pumpkin

By - PurpleSerenity

Cup finds cat, is embarrassed, hides cat, it fails

How a 40 minute shower turned into level 8 friendship

- KingOfTheLadybugs

Cup and bendy being besties w a lil fighting

One Chaos, Coming Right Up!

By - KhanaSukre

Granny is in trouble but the questers refuse to let her suffer, haha banana dick joke so silly

Just Another Wednesday

By - whatsafelony

Cupbros chasing after Wilson but he's a silly owl

To Satiate The Flesh (And Forget The Scars That Spoil Us)

By - DjevelBL

Lily Harper and cup, GHRRRR it's kinda sensual but also angsty I can't describe it IT'S SO GOOD OH MY GOD HEHEHEHEHEH

(Thank you mootie DjevelBL 💃💃 ily/platonic)

Not So Subtle But Still Misunderstood

By - The_Cecilia_Egg

Alex x cup head, Jerry is an idiot and doesn't know Russian

Familiar Place with a Familiar Face

By - whatsafelony

Alex and cup go on a date<3

@djevelbl thank you for your service to the cup head enjoyers, I'm only mentioning you because I can't be assed to tag anyone else

@cupheadfan96 here

[goosewriting]

Last Line Challenge

rules: in a new post, show the last line you wrote (or drew) and tag as many people as there are words (or as many as you feel like.)

thank you for the tag @anxiety-banana <3 this isn't the last line but it's from the college AU i've been teasing. hopefully i'll be able to post it soon :D

he takes your hand and places it on his chest, leaving his hand on yours. his heart is beating at a quick pace. the moment you look up again to him and meet his eyes, the pace picks up. in the faint light you can see a blush spreading on his face, heart pounding against his ribcage, and yours matches too. “same here,” you say. “i know,” he replies with a bit of mischief, his other hand on your cheek moving down a bit to your neck, where you now know he can feel your pulse.

no pressure tags: @persimminwrites @soka-writes-things and anyone else who sees this c:

[pixel-bloom]

OC Deep Dive Questionnaire Tag

Thanks for the tag @natolesims!!!

1. What uncommon/common fear do they have?

he has extreme anxiety and hates what people might think of him

2. Do they have any pet peeves?

chronic lateness. he hates waiting around for someone.

3. What are 3 items you can find in their bedroom?

"intellectual" books (is what his sisters call them), old figurines, composition books filled with thoughts

4. What do they notice first in a person?

Their voice, he's usually too nervous to look at people straight in the eyes.

5. On a scale of 1 to 10, how high is their pain tolerance?

Maybe a 5. He's no stranger to gym soreness, so he's used to pain here and there.

6. Do they go into fight or flight mode when under pressure?

Flight! In fact, he'll make a run for it even before pressure starts. Can't be stressed about a situation if you leave it before it gets stressful!

7. Do they come from a big family/are they a family person?

He has a mid-size family; two siblings, some aunts and uncles here and there. He loves his family and considers them his only friends. He's happy with that fact! They're the coolest people he knows--Mom is a lawyer, Dad builds furniture from scratch, sisters are artistic, his aunt is a musician/artist, and his uncles..uh they're kinda freeloaders in the city. Every kid's dream future 😎

8. What animal represents them best?

Hmmm that's a tough one. I'd love to say a grasshopper (haha) but let's go with a cheetah. Yeah I know you're thinking cool and collected, but cheetahs are actually SUPER anxious, expend a lot of energy with a task, and prefer to be alone. Also, he can run hella fast.

9. What is a smell that they dislike?

Burnt pancakes. Yuck.

10. Have they broken any bones?

No, he's pretty cautious. He's definitely gotten cuts and bruises galore though.

11. How would a stranger likely describe them?

Quiet (almost invisible) and soft-spoken. Just a kid that sits in the back of the class. He comes to school, then leaves. People would likely forget he was there.

12. Are they a night owl or a morning bird?

100% a morning bird. His parents are up at the crack of dawn and he's made it habit to get up early.

13. What is a flavor they hate and a flavor they love?

hate - artificial banana

love - matcha. mmmmm bitter.

14. Do they have any hobbies?

He's been told to write things down in notebooks (therapy) but he doesn't necessarily enjoy it--it's just something he does to regulate his emotions. He likes to watch bad movies, read old poetry, and hit the gym.

15. Boom, surprise birthday party!How do they react to surprises?

He hates surprises. If it's just his family, he won't be too upset. He'll put on a happy face and participate in any party things. If there's randos invited, he'll force himself to stay but he'll eventually wander back to his room. His parents have learned to not throw him parties.

16. Do they like to wear jewelry?

Somewhat. His sister is always trying to get him to pierce his face, but he sticks to his grandmother's necklace. He's thought about wearing rings, but he doesn't feel like he fits that vibe.

17. Do they have neat or messy handwriting?

Pretty neat for a teenage boy. Not the best but you could make it out. He tried to learn cursive to copy the script he sees in old poetry books, but got frustrated.

18. What are two emotions they feel the most?

Anxious & Embarrassed.

19. Do they have a favorite fabric?

Flannel. It's comfortable.

20. What kind of accent do they have?

If we were comparing him to everyone else...a normal American accent. Maybe one with a low inflection/tone. tbh only Theo has an accent in my game lmao

I'd love to see an OC deep dive from @payte, @potential-fate, @mosneakers, @sparkiekong, @ashubii, & @nitrozem ✨

[melting-houses-of-gold]

WIP Game

Thanks for the tag @anxiety-banana!

RULES: make a new post with the names of all the files in your WIP folder, regardless of how non descriptive or ridiculous. Let people send you an ask with the title that most intrigues them and then post a little snippet or tell them something about it! Then tag as many people as you have WIPs.

Imma be honest, i have too many WIPs and working docs and snippets (help me), some of which have been languishing in my google docs since 2022, help. Here's a smattering:

i'm the powder, you're the fuse (ask here)

stakeout makeout (ask here)

could we live with just a taste? chapter 4

music (ask here)

ice ice baby

this could get ugly (ask here)

on the road to ruin chapter 2

CWB

now there's a look in your eyes (ask here)

Destiny of Despair (ask here)

Tagging with zero pressure: @chocmarss, @ahsokathegray, @whyamismall, @ladylucksrogue @shardminds @jewelofmandalore @velidewrites @hannah-schooler @mschiefmanagxd and anyone else who may want to participate!

[lamaenthel]

5 Movies You Could Watch 500 Times

1. Star Wars Prequel+Original Trilogy (George said it's one big movie don't fight me)

2. The Princess Bride

3. Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon

4. The Matrix

5. Princess Mononoke

Tagging (No pressure as always 🫶)

@soliloquy-of-nemo / @tangledlichen / @anxiety-banana / @chocmarss / @ahsokathegray / @mschiefmanagxd / @hannah-schooler / @loevawrites / @interdimensionalhellscapeportal / @travellingnorthwards / anyone else who wants to join!!!