#hi ph club

[mizuruifan9]

"to which your soul is headed"

quick nine sketch I did in the car :3

alternate version and transparent under cut 🐱

[sisterdaniela]

think i just got outed as a phannie in club penguin dammmmmn

[astrxealis]

hozier yoo

[number1mingyustan]

Still Yours

idol!mingyu x fem!reader

Warnings: kissing, cursing, grinding, lots of sexual tension, explicit smut, protected sex (missionary), fingering (f.), low-key rough sex, scratching, teasing, they're so cute and domestic ugh, teensy bit (a lot) of angst cuz i can't live without it, if you realllyy read into it it’s a lil toxic but they’re so cute 😪

Summary: When you’re with him, the time around you ceases to exist. You’ve got your own little bubble that’s immune to reality where he’s just yours.

Word Count: 5.1k

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(a/n: i usually don't read/write content where they idols because I'm simply not a fan. but i read a jk fic like this recently and it was a masterpiece. to say the least i was inspired so shout out to that author and i hope you enjoy)

The cool outside air fills your lungs as you step onto the sidewalk. It’s not cold, just fresh and cool enough to rejuvenate you from the hot sweaty air from inside of the club.

It’s a lot emptier out here, it helps to clear your mind. There’s only two or three other people out here, having a smoke in silence or waiting impatiently for an uber.

Your mind is still just a little bit muggy from the alcohol coursing through your veins, but being outside has instantly given you clarity.

You just couldn’t be in there any longer. The guy at the bar just could not take a hint. He was cute too, the type of guy you would typically be interested in. You’d be lying if you said you weren’t interested in him at first.

But then halfway through your conversation and his hand touched your lower back, the guilt settled in. It suddenly felt so wrong. The guy in the club’s hand didn’t feel the same as when he does it.

Almost instantly, it registered in your mind. This stranger didn't compare. He had nothing on the guy who really has your heart.

The famous idol who doesn't hesitate to answer your phone calls or cook for you when you're hungry.

This guy was a nobody.

One phone call and you’d have so much better.

The stranger clearly didn’t pick up on your shift in energy, probably too drunk to notice how you started to pull away. You were suddenly uninterested in anything he had to say and it was exhausting to have to fake laugh and smile as you tried to make excuses as to why you weren’t going home with him tonight.

But he was persistent and suddenly felt too touchy. He probably wasn't touching you as much as you thought, but you were suddenly so aware of him that it felt wrong with him being so close. His very presence alone was irritating. You finally caught the attention of one of your friends and gave her the ���SOS’ look. She drunkenly stumbled over to you and pulled away from the conversation somewhat smoothly.

You thanked her before letting her know you were stepping out to get some fresh air.

But now it's a little after one in the morning and your thoughts are clouded with him. Your mind begins to wander to the moments you've shared over the past few years. The pet names, the sleepovers with homemade face masks, the phone calls from his hotel rooms.

Now you're texting him.

You: you awake?

________

Mingyu sits at home on the couch, beer in hand as the TV flashes in front of him. He's watching a movie he's got no real interest in, but he can't sleep. He's been home for a little more than a day and he's still got major jetlag ruining his sleep schedule.

No matter how hectic his life has been, he always dreads the jetlag.

The buzz of his phone captures his attention and he can't avoid the smile that pulls on his lips when he sees your name flash on the screen.

Mingyu: nah, sleeping

You giggle at your phone, smiling at the device just as he is. Your hands move a little slower to text back as the cool air outside changes your body temperature. You shiver, blowing on your hands as they grow cold.

You: call me

The message flashes delivered briefly before your screen changes entirely. You're surprised to see an incoming FaceTime and not a regular call.

You hold the phone up to your face, fixing your hair before you hit answer.

He lays on the couch in the living room, the darkness surrounding him heavily contrasts the colorful beams of light that flash behind you. The loud music thumps in the background.

"Hi." He smiles.

"Hi," You grin.

You feel giddy inside. Partially because you were drinking a bit and mostly because you're talking to him again. It's been quite some time since you've seen each other.

"Where are you?" He asks first.

You take a moment to respond as you walk toward the curb. You fix your dress and sit on the curb of the sidewalk, holding the phone up to your face.

"At the club," You reply.

"Ah, fun night I presume?" He asks.

You shake your head. "Not really."

"Sorry to hear that Shorty," He says.

Your heart skips a beat at the nickname. Your heart always leaps when he calls you that.

"Yeah, not really my thing anyway," You frown.

"I remember, surprised you're even there this late," He comments.

You smile. He remembers.

"Took some convincing from my friends. It wasn't so bad when we were drinking earlier, but then it started to hit and I wasn't feeling it anymore," You say, chipping away at the white nail polish on your fingers.

"They didn't abandon you, did they?" He asks, voice laced with concern.

"Who? My friends? No, they were looking out for me but I just wasn't feeling it anymore so I told them I was stepping outside for a minute," You continue to chip away at the polish mindlessly.

"I don't like you being alone like that, especially if you've been drinking," He frowns.

"I'm okay, I promise..." You assure him. "I wanna see you though."

A boyish smile forms on his face. "Yeah?"

You nod. "You home?"

"Yeah, come over," He offers. "I'll get you something to eat and you can spend the night."

Your ears perk up from his words. Your heart jumps out of your chest in anticipation.

"Okay, I'll order a–"

"–Text me what club you're at," he interrupts. "I'll get you an Uber here."

______

You call another one of your friends while you wait. You’re surprised she picks up on the second ring. “HELLO?” she shouts into the phone.

“Hey love,” You say.

“Y/N WHERE DID YOU GO?? The hot guy you were talking to is still here, I thought you went home with him.”

The loud music thumps in the background, but you can surprisingly hear her clearly.

You shake your head. “I’m heading home, I’ll see you guys later.”

Of course, the terms of your NDA don’t allow you to tell them where you’re really going. You make up an excuse about not feeling well and she pouts.

“Aw but we were– Hana NO!” She interrupts herself and the line goes silent for a few moments.

You hear shifting and wait to hear her voice again.

“Sorry, we’re in the bathroom and Hana started throwing up. She’s fine now. You feel better though, and text one of us when you get home. Stay safe babes.”

“Okay, I will.”

Before you can hang up, she’s calling out to the other girls. “GUYS, Y/N IS GOING HOME.”

More shuffling suddenly fills your ears and female voice.

“Nooooo, don’t leave,” Hana drunkenly slurs.

You laugh. “I’ll go out with you guys again next weekend.”

After a little bit more drunken banter, you finally hang up and wait on the curb until your ride gets here.

____

Considering he's the one who ordered the Uber, you know he'll know exactly when you get there. So, you spend the entirety of the ride in the backseat fixing up your appearance.

You play with your hair, refresh your lip gloss, and adjust your appearance for the better.

When you arrive at the familiar home, your heart rate picks up and you open the door with shaky hands. You stand outside the car, purse in hand as you shut the door.

Just as you close the car door, his front door opens almost on cue. His full stature comes to your sight and your excitement bubbles over.

He leans against the door frame, grinning at you. He looks cozy, wearing a pair of grey sweatpants, a white wifebeater, and his glasses. Your knees nearly give out at the sight of him in his glasses. He looks so good. His muscular body is visible in the tee and you have to stop yourself from pouncing him.

His hair is definitely shorter than the last time you saw him. And it's been well, months since you've seen him. Two? Maybe even three? But that doesn't matter, what matters is that you're here with him now.

You try not to express how excited you are, but you just can't wipe the smile off your face. You walk toward him and he invites you in with open arms.

His strong arms wrap around your frame. You're so happy you could cry. Your arms wrap around him, squeezing his frame. You inhale, breathing in his scent. He smells like home. His touch is so comforting, this moment feels unreal. You hold him and appreciate him for everything he is.

He pulls away, looking down at you with a grin. He presses a kiss to your forehead. "Hi, Shorty."

You grin up at him, bringing your hands to his hair. You run your fingers through it. "You cut it."

He nods. "Couple days ago yeah, you don't like it?"

"I always like it," You tell him truthfully. "But it was a little sexier when it was long."

He pulls you all the way inside, closing the door and locking it. "I'll tell management to let me grow it back out just for you."

"Doubt they'll see me as reason enough for that," You say.

"They'll just have to deal with it," He runs a hand through his hair. "I'll never let scissors touch my hair again if you say so."

Oh my gosh. You hate him.

You hate how he makes your heart skip a beat and he somehow always knows all the right things to say to you.

You giggle. "I wouldn't ask you to do that, Gyu."

"You'd still like me if I was bald?" He asks.

"Yeah Gyu, I would." You admit.

"Oh wow" He has a boyish grin on his face. "You like-like me."

"Yeah well, you like-like me too," You remind him.

"Damn right I do, Shorty," He pulls you in by your waist. "Don't know why you're so far away."

You squeal when your body moves against his. "I'm still wearing my shoes! I need to take them off."

"Relax Shorty," He lifts you up effortlessly, placing you on the kitchen counter.

He drops down, undoing your heels and placing them on the mat next to his front door. He stands back up to his full stature, face mere inches above yours.

He leans in. "I missed you."

You look up at him with soft eyes. There's so much yearning behind your pupils, that it makes you wonder if he can see through to it.

"I missed you too," You admit.

You find yourself back hin his arms. His big hands circle your waist, pressing your chests together. But now, his lips are on yours.

The kiss is soft, just delicate enough to express how much he missed you. Your small hand cups his cheek as your lips move against one another. His touches are gentle, but they spark so many things inside you, igniting you from the inside out.

But your moment is cut short when your growling stomach interrupts.

You pull away just a little bit, brushing your nose against his, giggling to yourself. He lets out a genuine laugh, holding your hand in his. "I did promise you food, didn't I?"

You nod. "I believe you did."

He helps you off the counter and back onto your feet. He walks over to the pantry.

"Sorry to get your hopes up," He admits sheepishly. "I just got back so... there's not much."

"Oh that's okay, it can't be–"

You open the fridge, finding virtually nothing. Some milk, A couple water bottles, half a carton of eggs, a few bottles of liquor, and a can of half-eaten kimchi.

You wedge your way in front of him, looking into the pantry and it's somehow worse. There's only stuff that needs to actually be cooked, and there's not much of it.

You fall dramatically into his chest and he laughs. "I told you there wasn't much."

His hand touches your lower back as you sink your face into his chest. This time, it feels right.

"Why did you even offer me food if you didn't have any?!" You exclaim.

He holds your head in his hands, cupping both of your cheeks. "I don't know, I guess I forgot Shorty. You do that to me."

While his words are making your stomach turn, the hunger rumbling is a lot louder. "Is the milk in the fridge even good?"

"Yeah, I just bought it today." He says casually.

"You went out and bought milk... and nothing else? Knowing you had no food?" You question.

"I needed it to go with my cereal," He shrugs. "But that's not important. Look, there's some rice in here."

He grabs the uncooked rice out of the pantry. "I can make you some fried rice with egg and kimchi. I've got soy sauce somewhere around here."

"No I think I'll just take some cereal," You walk out of his grasp, making your way toward the fridge.

He pouts. "I can cook for you though."

"I'll take you up on that offer another time," You tap his cheek with your palm lightly. "I'm very hungry. And you've got no vegetable to go with, not even a green onion. I'm getting some cereal."

You open the fridge, grabbing the milk while he gets the bowls and spoons. You try to grab the cereal box from above the fridge, but you can't quite reach it. Mingyu comes up behind you, grabbing it with ease and a shit-eating grin on his face.

You frown, but you're too hungry to make any comments. The two of you sit at the table, each pouring yourselves a bowl of cereal. "You said you just got back?" You ask.

He nods. "Like two days ago, I think. My sense of time is a little messed up, jetlag."

You nod in acknowledgment. He continues to tell you about the past few months since he's seen you. You play friends catching up as he answers all your questions about his life as of recent. The shows, the photoshoots, all the traveling, filming, and preparations for the upcoming months as well.

He asks you about work too, although your updates are not nearly as interesting as his though. But he doesn't ask out of courtesy, he genuinely cares. He likes hearing about your life, likes just listening to you speak even if you're not the one doing Calvin Klein photoshoots.

The time flies, and before you know it, it's 3 in the morning. You always find yourself invested in him when you're together, like the world around you ceases to exist. You get caught up, failing to realize that time is indeed still passing, and a lot of it.

He pulls you in by your hips, pressing your back onto his chest.He pulls the bowls and utensils out of your hands swiftly and turns you around.

"Nope, don't worry about that," he drops them into the sink. "You just go hop in the shower, I'll give you one of my t-shirts."

"Are you saying I stink?" You accuse him playfully.

"Never, Shorty." He kisses your cheek. "As much as I love this little dress on you, it's getting late and you should be in something comfy. Now go." He playfully taps your butt, sending you to the bathroom.

You look back at him, feigning offense as he grins.

______

When you step out of the bathroom and into his bedroom, there's a t-shirt laid out for you with a pair of boxers. You get dressed before walking down to the living room.

Mingyu lays there, scrolling through his phone. When he hears you enter, his attention shifts to you immediately and he gives you a warm smile.

He sits up all the way and pulls you onto his lap so you're straddling him. "Thank you, for letting me using the shower and for the food."

He holds you close to him. "Of course Shorty

"Where are your clothes?" He asks.

"Folded on the dresser in your room, why?" You ask.

He pulls you off his lap and stands to his feet. "Wanna wash them so you can have them tomorrow. Are they washer and dryer safe?"

"Yeah, but you don't have to worry about it." You assure him.

"Don't worry about it, I have clothes I need to was anyway. I'll just through yours in with them," he says.

He disappears up into his room and when he emerges, he's holding a basket of clothes and your dress on top. He walks down and walks over to you on the couch.

"That's all you had? Just the dress and the panties? No bra?" He asks.

You grin. "Nope."

He inhales sharply, but pushes his thoughts aside. "Come with."

You follow behind him downstairs. He leads you to the laundry room in the basement.

You sit on the dryer as he loads the washing machine. There's a comfortable silence in the atmosphere. Everything about this is so comforting... so domestic. It's exactly what you needed.

"Hand me that?" he says, pointing to the detergent behind you. "Please?"

You grab the detergent, handing it to him. "Thank you, Shorty."

After he's done with it, he hands it back to you and adjusts the settings before starting up the machine.

"Ready for bed?" He asks.

You nod, reaching your arms out to him. He turns around, lifting you off the machine and piggybacking you all the way up to his bedroom. He drops your body on his plush mattress and strips down to just his boxers. He places his glasses on his dresser gently. Immediately after, he climbs under the covers. You join him, making yourself comfortable in his bed.

He pulls your body against his, yearning to have you close to him. He looks at you with a softness in his eyes. His hand runs along your thigh gently and innocently.

But right now, close doesn't feel close enough. You've missed him so much, you want to feel consumed by him. You need him inside of you.

You press your forehead against his, look at him with soft, sultry eyes. His hands start to wander, moving from your thighs to your butt.

Almost simultaneously, you pick up on one another's energy. The sexual tension grows and pretty soon his lips are on yours again. You moan softly against his lips.

He brings his hand to your cheek, cupping it softly as your lips move against his in perfect harmony. He takes everything you give and vice versa,perfectly in sync.

Pretty soon, you're itching to get undressed even though his clothes are extremely comfortable. You're eager for more of him, pulling away from the kiss.

"Gyu," You breathe out.

"I know baby, fuck–I know," He pulls you onto his lap so you're straddling him once again.

He lifts your hips enough to pull his boxers off of your body. The t-shirt you're narrowing is next to go, leaving you completely naked on his lap.

"Fuck," He whispers. "You're so pretty, Shorty. Need you so bad."

You lean over, leaving a trail of kisses on his neck. You know better than to leave marks, but you grind down against him slowly. He lets out a shaky breath, holding your hips as you move against him. "Mm-fuck."

His cock grows stiff beneath you, poking against your bare core. You grind down harder, feeling the veins of his cock against your clit through his boxers. "Feels good, Gyu.." You moan.

You chase the friction selfishly. You know you could cum like this, and with how good it feels, you're not entirely against it. But his hand comes in between the two of you, pressing against your pussy to feel how wet you are.

"Fuck, Shorty you're soaking..." he groans.

You can only nod in agreement as the pads of his fingers graze your clit. You're dripping on his fingers, so much so that he could easily slip–

"–You want my fingers?"

Fuck, he knows you so well.

You nod eagerly. He pinches your clit, making you yelp.

"Use your words baby."

You mewl. "Yes, fuck yes, please."

He lifts your body, flipping you over so you're underneath him. He holds himself up with his arm, hovering over you as he slips two fingers into you with ease.

Even though it's just his fingers, he can feel how tight you are. Your cunt stretches around his digits as he pumps them into you. You moan out, feeling the way the pleasure builds in your lower region.

His fingers are so skilled and he knows your body well. He knows that when he curls his finger, you're gonna squeeze your legs together and cry out.

Which is exactly what you do when he curls his fingers inside of you. He pries your legs back open, picking up the pace of his fingers as you moan out loud. "Ah fuck–nngh."

His cock twitches in anticipation as he pleasures you. He's not focused on it right now, but your pleasure is his pleasure.

"Shit–I'm gonna cum," You warn him, gripping his bicep.

He grins, teasing you with his words. "Already, Shorty?"

You breathe out, pushing your hips against his hands. "Fuck– 's been a while.

Oh?

His digits press against the sweet spot deep inside of you and you arch your back up off the bed and cry out. "You don't touch yourself when I'm not here, Shorty?"

"Not enough–ah!" You moan. "Can't cum."

You know you'd never admit this if you weren't drinking earlier or on the brink of an orgasm. But your words affect him more than he lets it show.

He's ruined you.

That means you haven't slept with anyone since he last saw you. And to top it off, you can't get yourself off without his help. A sense of pride fills his chest and only encourages him to go faster, pushing you over the edge.

Although, the same can't be said for him. The pride in his chest is pinched by a small twinging of guilt.

It's not something you really talk about with each other. You know it happens, but you choose not to acknowledge it. As much as it feels like it when you're together, you're not together. It's been nearly three years since your relationship, if you can even call it that, came to fruition.

But with him constantly busy and on the move, you've spent a small fraction of those three years in each other's presence. When he's not with you, he's performing and traveling the world. He catches the attention of plenty of other pretty girls who are more than willing to sign an NDA to spend the night with him.

He's just a man after all. And a famous one who constantly travels at that. He's got needs of his own and the means to fulfill them.

He's someone you trust. You know he'd never catch something and risk bringing it to you. He's too careful, has too much at stake with his career.

But those thoughts only cloud his mind, and for a brief moment at that. With you underneath him, writhing and gasping for air as you cum on his fingers, his attention is fully on you.

He pins your body on on the bed, adding more pressure as you grip his bicep. You nails dig into his skin, sure to leave marks. He doesn't mind though, not when you cry out his name and screw your eyes shut in pleasure.

Your hips move on their own, grinding against his fingers as you ride out your orgasm. "Shit, Shorty... that's it, yeah."

It takes a moment for you to come down. When you do, you blink your eyes open, loosening your grip on his bicep. He buries his face in the crook of your neck, warm breath fanning against your neck. His fingers slip out of you slowly and you whine as the loss of touch.

His hard length presses against your thigh, making it very known how badly he needs you. You think about pushing him down on the bed and sucking him dry, but you'd much rather have him inside of you.

You press a hand on his chest gently, pointer finger lightly dragging on his skin. "Mmm, that was so good, Gyu."

"Yeah?" He lifts his head up.

You bite your lip seductively and nod softly. "Yeah... want you to fuck me now, though."

He licks his lips slowly. "Want it, or need it?"

"Need it, need it so fucking bad, Gyu" You pull at the material of his boxers. You're so needy. He can hear it in your voice and it's clear in your actions. He wants to give you everything and more.

He presses his hips down against you and you help him to pull of his boxers. You wrap your hand around his cock and start pumping him slowly. He lets out a breath of relief.

His cock is hard and heavy in your hand. It's pulsing and aching to be touched. He inhales sharply when you circle your thumb around the tip, smearing his precum around.

You love it when he's sensitive like this, so reactive. It reminds you that you have just as much of an effect on him as he does on you. You continue to pump him, and he reaches into the drawer of his nightstand and pulls out a gold package.

You snatch the condom out of his hand. "I wanna do it."

He grins. "Okay, Shorty."

You tear open the packaging with your teeth.

"You know, you shouldn't do that," He warns you. "Could accidentally puncture a hole in it. Wouldn't want another pregnancy scare would we?"

You toss the gold wrapper onto the nightstand. "First of all, you use your teeth every time we do this. Second of all, you used your teeth to open the condom the time we had to scare." You remind him.

He smirks. "I learn from my mistakes, baby."

You ignore him, rolling the condom onto his length and laying on your back. He hovers over you again, stroking his cock a few times before lining himself up with your entrance.

When he enters you, the stretch is immaculate. You both breathe out, moaning as he bottoms out inside of you. He sinks further into you, deep into your warmth and you stretch to accommodate him perfectly.

"Fuck... Gyu," You moan out, wrapping your arms around his muscular back.

"Shorty... fuck me–" He groans. You breathe out, wrapping your legs around his waist, pushing your hips up into him. You move in perfect sync as his hips drive into yours. His neck nearly goes limp as his head dips down. "Yeah, Shorty–just like that–uh. Fuck, you're so hot, baby."

"Mingyu–" You moan out. "I missed you so much... so fucking much."

His hips snap back, his cock thrusting deep into you. "Missed you too, missed everything about you."

His thrusts slow down, but they don't stop. He taps the side of your thigh, silently telling you to unwrap your legs around around him. You oblige, and he lifts your legs up.

He drives his cock deeper into you, bringing your legs over his shoulders. You gasp out at the sudden stretch and wave of pleasure that hits you.

The pure force of his thrusts, how good he feels as the pain turns into pleasure into pleasure, the noises he makes – it's overwhelming in the best way possible. It's so much, but it's so good, you don’t want him to ever stop. Your mouth falls open in a silent moan as your breath catches in your throat. You eyes fall shut as your face scrunches in pleasure before the sensation courses through through you and you can hardly take it. Your hands grip the sheets tightly.

"Fuck... pussy's so good," He groans. " 'S all mine."

"Hah-fuck," You cry out.

"Tell me it's mine, baby," He demands. "C'mon Shorty."

Your eyes fall shut and your breathe in through your nose as his cock pushes deeper into you. Your voice is broken and soft. "It's all yours–"

He thrusts into you particularly hard. "Say it again–louder."

"Fuck! It's all yours."

It's a lie, somewhat. Everything between you two is complicated, yet simple. But in moments like these, you don't focus on the small details or realities.

"That's what I fucking thought," He groans.

You whimper, pussy fluttering around him. A telltale sign that you're close to the edge. His pace doesn't falter, and he continues to fuck you as your orgasm courses through your body.

Your body spasms beneath him, writhing to escape the overwhelming pleasure. He doesn't let you though, pinning your body down as he continues to drive his cock deep inside of you.

"Fuckfuckfuckfuck–uh!" You cry out. Tears are brimming the corners of your eyes.

Your pussy tightens around him, convulsing as you cum for the second time tonight. He watches as your face twists and contorts with pleasure, a sight that remains forever etched in his memory.

You're still coming down while he's fucking you, grunting and groaning with each thrust of his hips. There's sweat dripping down his body, causing his skin to glisten in the moonlight.

Your mind is hazy, still struggling to process all the pleasure you're body is enduring. You're growing overstimulated, but you can tell he's getting close.

His hips lose their rhythm, thrusts growing erratic and uncoordinated as your pussy milks him. He lets out a long groan, cursing out your name as he spills his load into the rubber.

His chest rises and falls rapidly as he sits up. He presses a kiss to your ankle before pulling out of you and allowing your feet to touch the bed.

His body is spent, and the soft look in your eyes relaxes him. It makes him feel blissful and at ease, it makes the sleepiness creep its way into his body.

You wrap your arms around his neck softly pulling his face toward yours. "All good?"

"Fuckin perfect," he sighs with a smile.

He's too close and too tempting not to kiss. So you do, softly pressing your lips against one another. The feeling in your heart is overwhelming. You don't know that he feels it too, two hearts moving rapidly yet somehow in perfect sync.

It's moments like these where there's a conundrum of things weighing heavily on your mind that you want to express or say out loud, but you don't. You know better than that, and so does he.

So a kiss will have to do. To speak the words that will remain unspoken and seal it closed. A silent way to express the thoughts that run through your brains and the emotions that are pouring out of your hearts.

So you kiss him, because that's all you can do for now. While he's still here, while he's still yours.

___

After you two clean up, you climb back into the bed. You face each other, laying on your sides.

His eyes are closed, but he's not fully encaptured by his slumber. He's halfway there though, pouting in his state of rest with a soft expression. He looks so peaceful, so cute. Such a contrast to the man who had your legs thrown over his shoulders only minutes prior.

You press your hand onto his hair, pushing it back ever so lightly as you admire his features. You see the smile tugging at his lips. "Go to sleep, Shorty."

His eyes don't open as he speaks to you.

"Sorry," You say sheepishly. I was just admiring."

"Cute, you can admire in the morning though. Go to sleep, baby."

You nod, although he can't see you, and exhale softly. You adjust the comforter and his eyes blink open slowly.

"I'll make you breakfast in the morning," he offers, pressing a kiss onto your forehead.

You hum, smiling to yourself. "lemme guess, cereal?"

A breathy laugh escapes his lips. "Alright, I'll take you out for breakfast, or we can order in if you can't walk."

You punch his shoulder playfully before burying your face against his chest. You fall asleep in his arms peacefully.

_______________________________________________

© number1mingyustan - Do not repost without permission.

[fxstpace]

the budget

summary: mingyu, president of the photography club, and you, leader of the art club, are forced to collaborate when your organisations are granted a shared—and pitifully small—budget for the semester. every meeting turns into a battle: over ideas, over funding, over who cares more about their craft. until you start noticing the way mingyu’s eyes light up when he captures the perfect picture, and his presence in your life leaves you feeling more inspired than irritated.

⇢ pairing: photography student!kim mingyu x art student!fem!reader ⇢ contains: fluff, mild angst, enemies/rivals to lovers au, college au, debatable attempts at comedy, profanity, inaccurate depictions of both art & photography since i am good at neither, raccoons ⇢ word count: 4.8k ⇢ playlist: stardust by zayn; blue by yung kai ⇢ note: for the person who requested this; i hope you enjoy!

There’s a miserable amount of zeroes next to the number printed on the budget distribution sheet that Mingyu hands you. You stare at it, incredulous, then back at him, the paper crumpling slightly under your grip.

“This can’t be right,” you say, voice tight with disbelief and mounting anger. “This is… This is a joke. It has to be.”

Mingyu shifts, shoving his hands into the pockets of his jacket. “Yeah, well, it’s not. This is all we’ve got for the semester.”

“You’re saying that like it’s okay!” Your eyes snap up to his face. “Like this is something we can work with.”

“I’m not saying it’s okay! But I don’t see what yelling at me is going to solve.”

You scoff, holding up the paper between you both like it’s the evidence of a crime. “This amount isn’t even enough for one club to function, let alone two. And yet you expect us to split it? How is that fair?”

Mingyu clenches his jaw and crosses his arms. He looks bigger, now—more intimidating, sort of. You cross your arms as well, eyebrows knit into a frown. “It’s not fair,” he says. “None of this is. But unless you’re ready to, I don’t know, rob a bank or something, this is what we’ve got to work with.”

“And what?” you snap. “Your solution is just to divide it down the middle and call it a day? You can’t honestly believe that’s fair. Your expenses aren’t nearly as high as ours—”

“Excuse me?” Mingyu cuts in, his voice rising, sharp enough to make you pause. “Do you even know what we need? Do you have any idea how much equipment costs? Or printing? Or—”

“You don’t have an entire exhibition to put together,” you interrupt, your frustration boiling over. “We’ve got installations, workshops, materials—”

“And you think we’re just screwing around, taking selfies? You think what we’re doing doesn’t matter?”

“That’s not what I’m saying!”

“It sure as Hell sounds like it is,” he bites out, glaring at you.

The hallway is silent except for the sound of your breathing. You’re standing close to him, you realise belatedly—too close. Mingyu’s face is flushed, dark brown eyes locked on yours, and for the first time, you notice just how tired he looks. There are faint shadows beneath his eyes, and the line of his shoulders is stiff with what you suddenly recognise as exhaustion, not just irritation. It’s easy enough to spot these signs because you mirror them, too.

It’s always been like this between the art club and the photography club. The rivalry was created during the clubs’ inception, long before you joined your university. You remember the former head—and your senior—telling you about how the former photography club head charmed Dean Park, the head of the art department, into giving them a higher budget, resulting in the art club being unable to hold their annual art exhibition. The year before that, the art club managed to win him over by listing out all the pros and cons of “art in the cultivation of a cultural mindset in students” using a PowerPoint presentation complete with sparkly animations. 

It’s always, always about money. 

This semester, however, the budget is infinitely worse—chiefly because you have to share it with the photography club. As the current presidents, you and Mingyu must shoulder the burden together, and that’s a lot easier said than done, really. Maybe it’s because you’ve spent all your college years feuding on opposing sides of the art scene, but you and Kim Mingyu haven’t been able to get along.

The fact that the amount Dean Park allotted for you both is abysmally small doesn’t make this entire situation any easier.

You look away, gaze dropping to the crumpled paper in your hands. “I’m not saying your work doesn’t matter,” you say quietly, the fight dissipating from your tone. “I’m just… This whole thing sucks, okay? I’m frustrated, too.”

Mingyu lets out a slow breath, scratching his cheek tiredly. “Yeah,” he mutters. “I know.”

It catches you off-guard, the way his voice lowers—not softening, exactly, but losing some of its earlier bite. When you glance back at him, his shoulders are still tense, his forehead pinched, though not with resignation. It’s more like simmering irritation, held at bay simply because he can’t get angry in the middle of the administrative building’s hallway.

“Look,” he continues when you don’t say anything, “this is what we’ve got. Yelling at each other about it isn’t going to magically double the budget, no matter how much we want it to.”

“I’m not yelling—I’m trying to get you to see reason. If you’d just acknowledge that the art club actually needs—”

“Maybe if you’d stop acting like your club is the only one that matters—”

You hold up a hand, cutting him off before he can get going again. “We’re going in circles,” you say, sighing. “This isn’t getting us anywhere.”

“Right,” Mingyu mutters, stepping back to lean against the wall. He crosses his arms tightly over his chest again, and for a moment, the two of you stand in tense silence, glaring at each other like it’ll somehow fix the problem.

The corridor feels oppressively small, the fluorescent lights casting shadows over his face. You take a slow breath, trying to tamp down the irritation clawing at your chest and push it down to your stomach instead where you can, at least, work around it. “Fine,” you grit out. “We’ll figure something out, but don’t think for a second that I’m going to let the art club get shortchanged because of your supposed equipment costs.”

Mingyu’s lips twitch into something that’s almost a smile but too bitter to qualify. “Of course. Don’t expect me to give up the gallery showcase just so you can buy more paint.”

You press your lips together and bite back your retort. You’re too tired to keep this up, and it’s clear that he’s just as stubborn as you are.

Instead, you turn on your heel, the budget sheet still clutched tightly in your hand. “Next meeting,” you call over your shoulder, “come with actual numbers. Maybe then we’ll actually get somewhere.”

“Sure,” Mingyu says flatly, though when you glance back, he’s still watching you, expression unreadable.

“Just combine both your events,” Jiyeon—Dean Park’s student representative—says curtly, like she’s trying to wrap up a tedious chore. She taps her manicured nails on the desk impatiently. “That was the reason why we announced the budget earlier this semester compared to last time.”

You blink at her. Combine? As in merge the art club’s carefully curated exhibition with Mingyu’s glossy photography showcase?

“That’s not happening,” you say, sharper than you intended. “These are completely different events. We’d lose the point of both if we mashed them together.”

Mingyu, seated across from you, leans back in his chair, arms crossed. “For once, we agree on something.”

Jiyeon exhales, clearly unimpressed with your united front. “Neither of you have the budget to do these separately. You’re either combining or presenting Dean Park with a shared cancellation notice. Your choice.”

Her words sink into your brain, leaving no room for argument. The table between you and Mingyu feels like a battlefield, and you’re not sure if you want to continue glaring daggers at him or redirect your frustration towards Jiyeon.

“This is ridiculous,” Mingyu says, dragging a hand through his hair. “You can’t just lump two completely different creative visions together. A photography showcase is about cohesion. You don’t just slap a bunch of things together and call it cohesive.”

You bristle. “And what, you think an art exhibition is just some chaotic mess of colour and whimsy? There’s intention behind every piece. We’re not staging this in a dorm hallway; it’s a professional-level gallery. My members have been working on this for months.”

“And so have mine,” he snaps back. “This showcase isn’t just about displaying photos. It’s about showing people what photography is capable of. Combining that with whatever you’re doing? It’s going to dilute both.”

“Then maybe you shouldn’t have spent your entire summer hyping up an event you clearly couldn’t afford,” you say, unable to help yourself.

His eyes narrow. “It’s not like I knew—”

“Enough,” Jiyeon cuts in, her voice slicing clean through your argument. She stands, gathering her papers and closing her laptop briskly. It’s clear she’s done with the conversation. “You two have until next week to draft a combined proposal. If I don’t have something workable on my desk by then, I’ll assume you’re forfeiting your budget entirely. Good luck.”

With that, she walks out, the door shutting behind her with a firm click that echoes in the suddenly quiet room.

“This is such bullshit,” Mingyu mutters after a pause.

You glance at him, agreement on the tip of your tongue, but the irritation on his face sparks something petty in you instead. “You seem confident for someone whose entire event hinges on this bullshit.”

He glares at you and for a moment, you think he’s going to bite back. But he sighs and leans forward, resting his elbows on the table. “Since we’re stuck with this,” he says grudgingly, “we might as well figure something out.”

“You mean like a theme? Something broad enough to tie everything together?”

“Sure,” Mingyu says. “What do you suggest? Rainbows and friendship?”

“Don’t be an asshole,” you snap.

“I’m serious. If you’ve got a brilliant idea, then let’s hear it.”

You take a deep breath, your mind running through various possible ideas. Something broad, something versatile. But every idea either feels too generic, or too forced, and Mingyu’s expectant stare doesn’t help.

“What about… perspectives?” you finally say, hesitant.

He frowns. “Perspectives?”

“Yeah,” you say, gaining a little confidence. “Different ways of seeing the same thing. Photography is about capturing moments from unique angles, and art is about interpreting the world in your own way. It’s broad, but it connects.”

Mingyu leans back in his chair, brows furrowed in thought. He admits, slowly, “It’s… not bad.”

The faint approval in his voice surprises you, but you don’t let it show. “I know,” you say instead, crossing your ankles. “It’s a good starting point.”

“But it’s still vague,” he muses. “If we’re going to pitch this, we need to make it concrete. How are we actually going to combine everything? Are we splitting the space? Alternating pieces? Blending them somehow?”

Your stomach twists at the thought of compromising the layout, but you push the discomfort down. “We could structure it around the theme. Pair photos and artworks that complement each other—contrast them, even. It could be a dialogue between the two mediums.”

Mingyu’s eyes narrow slightly, like he’s contemplating. He nods, once, reluctantly. “It could work.”

“Okay,” you say. “Then we’ll need to draft a detailed proposal—layout, schedule, costs. Dean Park isn’t going to approve of something half-baked.”

“Obviously.”

You glare at him, but there’s no real heat behind it. “We’ll have to inform our members as soon as possible.”

“Done. I’ll text you, ‘kay?”

You hum in response, watching him gather his things. It’s not exactly a truce, and it’s definitely not teamwork—not yet, at least. But for the first time, you feel like both of you are pushing against the same problem, rather than each other.

“See you around, I guess,” you say tentatively, reaching for your bag.

Mingyu slings his camera bag over his shoulder and lets his lips curve upwards by the slightest. “See you.”

When Kim Mingyu said he would text you, you expected him to send you a message some time during the day, like a normal person would. Of course, the mistake you made was assuming that anything Kim Mingyu does is normal, so, really, why are you even surprised?

You don’t know for sure, but you’re certain it has everything to do with the fact that you were startled out of sleep minutes ago because of the incessant ringing of your phone, a week after your proposal was approved by Dean Park. The caller ID says Kim Mingyu (Photography President) and the time on your phone screen reads 1:01 A.M.

Someday, you will find a way to strangle him and get away with it. 

You squint at your phone, half-tempted to let it ring out, but you know he’s stubborn enough to keep calling until your phone dies. You swipe to answer with more force than necessary.

“What?” you snap, voice rough with sleep.

“Get dressed,” he says, sounding way more chipper than anyone in their right mind would at one in the morning. “I’m outside.”

You sit up in bed, your blankets falling into a heap around you. “Outside where?”

“Your building.”

There’s a pause while you blink, trying to process his words. ��My what?”

“Look, there’s no time to argue,” he says, as if he’s not the one calling you at an ungodly hour. “I need to show you something. It’s about the exhibition. Plus, I have hot chocolate.”

“Couldn’t this have waited until daylight?” you ask—but curiosity, and the mention of free hot chocolate, gets the better of you. You rub the sleep out of your eyes and slide out of bed. 

“Nope, it’s time-sensitive,” says Mingyu, while you’re busy shoving your head through the nearest hoodie you could find. 

When you step outside, the cool night air pricks at your skin, and you spot him almost instantly. Mingyu is leaning against the lamppost by the entrance to your building, a steaming styrofoam cup in each hand and his camera slung around his neck. His tall frame and disheveled hair, illuminated by the soft glow of the light, would almost make him look charming—were you not keen on murdering him for disrupting your sleep.

“What took you so long?” he says, holding out one of the cups as you approach.

“You’re insane,” you reply, snatching the cup from him. The warmth seeps into your fingers, and despite your irritation, you take a grateful sip. It’s sweet, just the way you like it. “This better be worth it.”

“It will be,” he promises, already turning towards the path the winds through your campus.

The night air is cool and crisp, laced with the faint scent of damp earth and fallen leaves. You clutch the cup of hot chocolate like it’s a lifeline, savouring its warmth, though it does little to thaw your irritation. Mingyu walks ahead of you, long strides confident; you trail behind him, muttering under your breath about insufferable photography club presidents and their questionable priorities.

The campus feels different at night—quieter, softer—as if the world has taken a deep breath and is holding it. Shadows stretch long and wide under the sporadic lampposts, and the buildings loom taller, their windows dark. The only sounds are the soft crunch of gravel underfoot. You don’t want to admit it, but there’s something peaceful about this moment, despite your company.

“Here,” Mingyu says suddenly, veering off the path toward a patch of bushes near the edge of the quad. 

You hesitate, watching as he crouches low. His movements are surprisingly careful for someone normally so clumsy. He motions for you to follow, his fingers pressed to his lips in a gesture for silence.

“What are you—”

“Shh,” he whispers, pointing ahead.

At first, you don’t see anything. But as you squint, you catch a movement—a small shape darting across the grass. And then another.

A family of raccoons. 

There are four of them, their sleek bodies silver in the moonlight. The largest one—presumably the mother—nudges a smaller one forward, while the other two rummage through a pile of leaves nearby. 

You crouch next to Mingyu, your knees pressing into the damp grass, and watch the raccoon family scurry about under the pale silver glow of the moon. The mother raccoon joins her two kits and noses through the leaves, while the smallest one tumbles clumsily after her, clearly still learning the ways of the world.

“They’re cute,” you whisper.

“Hm,” Mingyu hums, lifting his camera to his eye. The soft click of the shutter sounds through the quiet. “I’ve been tracking them for weeks. This seems to be their favourite hideout for the night.”

You glance at him sideways, watching the way his brows furrow in concentration, the way he adjusts the angle ever-so slightly before clicking another picture. He’s good at this, you think—finding something ordinary and turning it into something else.

“You dragged me out of bed for raccoons?” you ask, without any real malice in your voice.

“They’re more interesting than you give them credit for,” he says, not looking up from his viewfinder. “Most people don’t even notice them. And if they do, it’s just to call them pests.”

The soft, almost wistful tone of his voice surprises you. You shift your gaze back to the raccoons, watching as one of the smaller ones climbs onto a low branch, wobbling slightly before regaining its balance.

“They’re just trying to survive,” Mingyu continues, lowering his camera. “Finding food, looking after their family. They’re not pests. They’re— Resourceful. Resilient.”

You blink, caught off guard by the thoughtfulness in his words. “And this connects to the exhibition how?”

He smiles slightly, finally turning to look at you. “Think about it. How many things go unnoticed every day? How many stories don’t get told ‘cause people are too busy looking at what’s shiny and obvious?”

You frown, considering his words. The raccoon mother pulls out a discarded chocolate wrapper from the leaves, sniffing it before passing it to one of her kits. It’s nothing extraordinary, but there is something undeniably tender about the way she moves, the quiet care in her actions.

“I’ve been thinking a lot about our exhibition theme,” says Mingyu, “and—”

“It’s a matter of perspective,” you finish softly, the words slipping out before you can contain them.

Mingyu nods. “Exactly. Everyone’s always so focused on the big picture that they forget the small details. The stuff that seems insignificant but isn’t.” He gestures towards the raccoons. “This is the kind of thing I want to highlight—the unnoticed, the overlooked. The beauty in things people usually ignore.”

He has a point. The raccoons, with their clever little hands and determined movements, have a strange sort of grace to them. You wonder how many times you’ve walked past this very spot without noticing them, without realising there was a whole world quietly unfolding in the shadows.

“You think we can tie this to the exhibition?” you ask, your skepticism only half-hearted now.

“Why not?” he replies, enthusiasm bleeding into his tone. “Your art pieces are all about interpretation, right? How people see the world in their own way. And photography is about showing people something they didn't notice before. It fits.”

You chew on the inside of your cheek, annoyed by how much sense he’s making. Grudgingly, you mutter, “You’re not as stupid as you look.”

Mingyu laughs softly, the sound low and warm in the night air. “Thanks, I think.”

You both fall silent again, watching as the raccoons scurry off to another tree nearby. Mingyu raises his camera one last time, snapping a shot of their retreating forms before lowering his camera with a small, satisfied sigh.

“They’ll be gone by morning,” he says, almost to himself, “and no one will know they were here.”

There’s something oddly poetic about the thought, and you’re struck by the realisation that, for all his infuriating habits, Kim Mingyu has an eye for seeing things differently. Maybe that’s why he’s so good at what he does—and, maybe, that’s why you think he’s not so different from you, after all.

The walk back to your building is quiet. Mingyu keeps his camera slung over his shoulder. You sip the last of your hot chocolate. Lukewarm as it is, it’s sweet and nice and provides a shred of warmth against the cool air nipping at your cheeks. 

“Don’t get used to this,” you say, as the two of you near your building.

Mingyu blinks innocently. “Used to what?”

“Me being nice to you.”

He grins, a boyish, lopsided thing that makes your heart rabbit about, just a little. “Noted. I’ll savour it while it lasts.”

You pull out your sketchbook and your charcoal pencils the next day, after classes, and settle down on a bench that offers a clear view of the quad. The winter sun is a gentle wash of gold, spilling over the campus like honey, pooling in the dips of the cobblestones, and casting long, soft-edged shadows. It’s a contrast to the silvery quiet of last night, but somehow, the same tranquility lingers, a memory etched into the air.

The spot where the raccoons had been feels empty now, but not barren. Students drift through the quad in loose clusters. A girl sprawls on the grass with a textbook splayed open beside her. Two boys toss a frisbee near the far end, their laughter bright and contagious. Someone sits cross-legged under a tree, earbuds in, bobbing their head to music only they can hear.

Your pencil touches the paper, instinctive. Lines emerge, at first hesitant and light, but quickly growing in confidence. You sketch the arch of the bushes, the curve of their leaves. The grass flows beneath your hand, strokes that whisper of its softness, of its endless spread.

The students begin to take form next, their figures caught mid-motion—an outstretched hand here, a tilted head there. You don’t draw their faces; they’re not meant to be individuals, but simply a part of the quad in daylight. 

You don’t think about composition or technique; your hand moves as though it has a will of its own, tracing shapes and shadows. For the first time in what feels like forever, there’s no pressure, no self-imposed critique weighing you down. The sunlight dapples the page, shifting as the leaves above you sway in the breeze. Your strokes grow bolder, the charcoal smudging against your fingertips as you shade in the deeper shadows, the play of the light on the cobblestones. 

You pause, leaning back slightly, your eyes flicking between the quad and your sketch. It’s not perfect—nothing ever is—but it feels right.

Then, out of nowhere, you think of Mingyu.

It’s a small thought at first, barely noticeable—a stray memory of him crouched low in the grass last night, his camera poised. But it grows, and before you realise what’s happening, you’re imagining what he’d think of the sketch. Would he point out the uneven shading, the hasty lines where you’d been too impatient to linger? Or would he see what you see?

You close the sketchbook. The thought of showing it to him surprises you, an idea you’re not sure you understand. You’re not friends—not really—and the very idea of seeking his approval feels strange. 

But you’ll trust your instincts, you suppose. They haven’t led you astray so far. You tuck your sketchbook under your arm and set out to find Kim Mingyu.

You find Kim Mingyu in the photography clubroom, hunched over a cluttered table, sorting through a stack of pictures. The room smells faintly of ink and chemicals, the soft hum of a printer filling the silence. The light streaming through the windows bathes everything in warm, golden hues, catching on the strands of his hair every time he shifts.

For some inexplicable reason, you feel shy.

You linger by the doorway for a moment, fingers tightening around the edges of your sketchbook. It’s ridiculous, really—he’s the same infuriating person who called you at one in the morning and dragged you across campus to look at raccoons. But now, with the sketchbook in your hands and a strange weight in your chest, the thought of stepping into the room feels monumental.

You clear your throat, and he glances up. His hair is slightly messy, like he’s been running his hands through it in frustration, and the sleeves of his hoodie are pushed up to his elbows. For a split second, he looks surprised to see you. Then his expression shifts into something closer to curiosity.

“Hi,” he says, holding out a photograph like it’s a peace offering. “Are you lost? Or are you here to chew me out over something about the exhibition?”

You roll your eyes, stepping further into the room. “Neither. I wanted to—” You hesitate, the words tangling on your tongue. His gaze flickers to the sketchbook under your arm. Thankfully, he doesn’t push.

“Come in,” he says instead. “Since you’re here anyway—” he gestures toward the stack of pictures— “help me decide. I’m narrowing down shots for the exhibition.”

You step closer, drawn despite yourself. The photographs are stunning—a leaf caught mid-fall, a cluster of streetlights glowing through the fog, the silhouette of a child through a bus window.

“They’re good,” you say, and you mean it.

“Just good?” he teases, leaning against the table. But there’s something gentler in his expression now, a quiet kind of pride that softens the edges of his grin. “Coming from you, that’s basically a standing ovation.”

You glance away, suddenly self-conscious. Your fingers tighten around the sketchbook again, and before you can overthink it, you thrust it at him. “Here.”

Mingyu blinks. “What’s this?”

“Just—look at it,” you mumble, heat rising to your cheeks.

He takes the sketchbook carefully and flips it open to the page you’d drawn earlier. His eyes trace the lines etched into the paper with charcoal, widening slightly.

“It’s the quad,” he murmurs, quieter than you expected.

“Obviously.”

“No, I mean—” Mingyu looks up at you, and there’s something thoughtful in his gaze. “It’s the quad, but it—it feels… alive, you know?”

You suck in a breath sharply, eyes darting to him. “Alive?”

“Yeah.” He gestures at the sketch, fingers hovering just above the page. “Like here,” he says, pointing to a student mid-step, laughing at something the person next to them says. “And this.” He moves his finger and circles the pair of boys tossing a frisbee about. “I can actually imagine it happening. In real time. Does that make sense?”

The way Mingyu looks at your hastily-drawn sketch—as though it’s something extraordinary—makes your chest feel tight, like you’re holding your breath without even realising.

“I don’t know how you did this,” he continues, almost to himself, eyes roving over the page like he’s trying to decode a secret. “It’s not just the quad—it’s everything about it. It’s like you froze something no one else would notice.” The corners of his mouth lift in a small, disarming smile. “It’s kind of amazing.”

Your mind scrambles for something to say. “It’s… not that big of a deal,” you say lamely. “Just a sketch.”

“Not to me.”

Your eyes settle on the stack of photographs on the table, anything to distract yourself from the heat crawling up your neck. “So, um, what does this mean for the exhibition?”

“Everything,” he says simply—knowingly, almost. Mingyu flips the sketchbook shut and hands it back to you.

You hug the sketchbook to your chest. “You think so?”

“Yeah,” says Mingyu. “You’re really talented, you know that? Not just technically. You see things—details most people miss. That’s really rare.”

You see them, too, you want to say. Because he does. You’ve witnessed it firsthand, and your sketch feels like a paltry attempt at recreating the same thing. Mingyu’s compliment sends a strange ripple through you—half pride, half unease. It’s not that you haven’t been praised for your work before, but coming from him, it feels… different.

“I just drew what I saw.”

“Yeah, but you saw it,” Mingyu presses. “Not everyone would.”

The sincerity in his tone makes your heart stutter. You glance at him, unsure of what to say, and find him watching you with an expression that’s entirely too open. You’re not sure when the shift happened, but you feel it—a softening, an ease you hadn’t expected to find with him.

The confusion in your chest settles into something quieter, something that almost makes sense.

Maybe you don’t dislike Kim Mingyu. Maybe you never disliked him at all.

There is something to be said about having a crush on the person you thought you would never get along with. 

It creeps in during moments you don’t realise are important until later. You find yourself seeking him out more often, not because the exhibition needs it—it’s practically done—but because you enjoy being in his presence. The barbs you once threw at each other have become something like banter; his toothy grin makes your heart flutter in your chest. You don’t know when it started, but it’s there now, a quiet and persistent little thing that is difficult to ignore.

The day of the exhibition dawns quicker than you expect, and ends just as quickly. 

Kim Mingyu kisses you at the end of it, when the lights are dim and the skies are tinged with twilight. His lips are featherlight at first, and his hands cradle your face. He is soft, warm, and your fingers find their way to the collar of his shirt, gripping tightly.

There is much to be said about having a crush on the person you thought you would never get along with. The most important is this: it’s simply a matter of perspective.

⇢ a/n: thank you thank you thank you to @etherealyoungk for helping me out with all the design/art aspects of this fic & essentially brainstorming this entire thing with me; skye lifesaver fr (the theme behind combining the art and photography club events was all her idea). thanks for reading & i hope you have a wonderful day!

[kitten4sannie]

ᴄʀᴀᴢʏ ꜰᴏʀᴍ | ᴘᴀʀᴛ ᴏɴᴇ

pairing: dilf! san x boytoy! wooyoung x fem! reader

genre: smut <3

summary: you search for a rebound at your local club after a break up. the club owner and his favorite boyfriend are there to satisfy your needs.

w.c: 3.3k

warnings: daddy dom kinda switch! san (almost chewed my fingers off writing him like this trust), dom! wooyoung (he’s kinda passively there when it comes to reader but i promise he’ll be more prominent in part two~), subby good girl! reader, woosan, alcohol use, reader is not drunk but sufficiently tipsy, daddy kink, dirty talk, pet names (angel, princess, pretty girl, etc), teasing, possessiveness, praise, voyeurism/exhibitionism, body worship, grinding, kissing, marking, fingering, double? blowjob? idk (san gets head while giving it too oop-) , deep-throating, slight hair pulling, snowballing

a/n: hii guess who’s back from the dead just in time for the cb? <3 and i brought a present ~ a naughty one hehe :3 the inspo came from those pics above bc they look so expensive and cunty and so yummy ugh and THEN san decided to strip at the mama awards and now i’m ILL and ready to howl at the moon anyways !!this is out of pocket like usual and i put my whole kitty into it okayyy so i hope you enjoy and pls lemme know if you’re excited for part two >< <33

song rec: incubator by ph-1, gun by doja cat, wine pon you also by doja cat feat. konshens (every time i hear the last part it reminds me of san’s dance cover hnnnnhgg)

“Girl, you better slow down on that drink,” the woman sitting beside you at the bar warned, resting her forearms down on the cool surface of the sleek marble countertop, continuing to watch you slurp down a long island iced tea. “I’m not about to hold your hair up for you later.”

“Can you leave me alone? I’m grieving over here, god,” you whined to her with your straw still in between your pouting, quivering lips, your eyes brimming with tears. “And for the record, he broke up with me over text. Text.”

She shook her head. “You are not about to cry over a man right now.”

You pushed your empty glass away, before dramatically pointing a finger into your chest, causing the strap of your dress to droop down your shoulder a bit. “You’re right, but I can still be a mess if I want to, thank you very much.”

“Well, you’re certainly achieving that,” she stated, idly sipping on her own drink, looking you up and down until you felt like you had to prove something to her.

“Okay, fuck this,” you muttered, pushing yourself off of the barstool and pulling your dress down where it was beginning to rise up near your ass, sniffling a bit.

“Where are you going?”

Pulling out a small tube from the v-neck of your dress to apply a fresh coat of lip gloss, you smacked your lips together and motioned your hand to the vast amounts of sweaty, drunk people grinding on each other on the opposite side of the club. “I’m gonna get some rebound dick. Don’t wait up.”

The woman smiled to herself as she watched you disappear into the sea of people, still just sipping on her drink. Little did you know, someone else was already waiting for you in that crowd. And they came as a package deal.

-

“I want her, Sannie,” Wooyoung chimed to the older man that was sitting beside him on the comfy VIP couch, the man’s arm wrapped protectively around his waist. The younger man took a finger off of his fruity drink to point at the woman that was feeling herself up with her body pressed to an unnamed man on the dance floor across from them, charmed by the unbothered, almost melancholic expression imprinted on her flushed face, like she was just waiting for someone like them to take care of her, to make her pretty face flush for a different reason.

San followed Wooyoung’s manicured nail until it led to the sight of you, a few wrinkles etched into his skin near his lips and where his eyes creased with amusement. “Mmm. Shall I leave you to your own devices then? Daddy can watch you seduce that pretty girl from here, can’t he?” His smile deepened when Wooyoung shifted beside him, his thigh pressing into San’s larger one, knowing his plaything was already getting hot under the collar. San held Wooyoung’s chin between his ringed fingers, leaning in to murmur, “And you’ll be a good boy and bring her to me once you get her nice and wet, won’t you?”

“Yes, Daddy,” Wooyoung replied breathily, barely getting his words out when the man pulled him in for a heated kiss.

Just when Wooyoung began to lean into him, his hands resting on San’s leather-bound chest, the older man broke the kiss, wiping the other’s saliva from his mouth. “Get going, naughty boy.”

Despite being dizzy with need, Wooyoung nodded, obediently nodding as he stood up from the couch. He fixed his hair and checked his makeup, before heading into the sea of sweaty, lust-drunk people to find you.

You were almost too busy rolling your body along to the hypnotic flow of the house track that was bumping through the speakers around you to notice the warmth of someone else pulling you near him, his hand sliding onto the small of your back and his lips against your ear, goosebumps forming across your skin.

“Can I steal you away?” Wooyoung whispered in a low voice, smiling at your slow nod, your eyes practically dilating at the sight of him. You didn’t know angels frequented night clubs. That was news to you. The both of you silently watched as his veiny hands slowly slid onto your hips, his fingers squeezing into them just enough to make you shiver.

He brought you back against him with a gentleness that made you a little weak in the knees, moving his hips against yours, guiding you against his body to the pulsing beats of the song.

Desperate to be needed by the obscenely attractive stranger, you took it upon yourself to grind back against him, feeling his cock harden against your ass through his satin pants.

“Fuck, baby, don’t you know what’ll happen if you keep doing that?” he exhaled into your ear, his fingers moving down slightly to squeeze your thighs.

You turned your head back to meet his searing gaze, licking your lips, your eyelids lowering. “What’s going to happen?”

Glancing to the side to make sure San was still watching, which he was, with a hand clutching his upper thigh, Wooyoung looked back to you, his hands moving further outwards to feel the sides of your ass, encouraging your dress to move up little by little, replying, “We’ll have to play with you, angel.”

“Yes, please,” you breathed out, resting your head against his chest, allowing him to feel up your body, his hands groping along your abdomen to your tits, the cogs inside your head moving at a slower rate than usual. “Wait…did you just say…we’ll?” Just as you spoke, Wooyoung reached around to grasp your chin and guide it to the side, allowing you to spot the fiery-headed gentleman manspreading on the VIP couch across from you, his heated gaze alone making you throb. “Isn’t…that the guy who owns this place?”

“Mm, he owns a lot of things. You see, darling, even though I want you all to myself–” Wooyoung squeezed his hands around your barely clothed tits through your dress, making you moan. “San doesn’t like it when I don’t share with him.” His hands slowly moved down your front to your clothed cunt, feeling your wetness coat his fingers when he rubbed them against your clothed slit. All you could focus on was the way San shifted around on the couch, his hands gripping his thighs like his body was aching to be free from his tight ensemble, Wooyoung’s upcoming offer barely getting processed in your hazy brain. “Do you wanna meet him?”

One single nod was all it took for Wooyoung to take your hand with a knowing smile on his pretty face, like he could already tell what was about to go down that night, before guiding you past the crowd, the bouncers, and directly up to San, who was eagerly waiting your arrival.

As soon as you stepped foot into the exclusive lounge, the visual of the older man had your already weak knees ready to buckle underneath you now that you could see him up close. He was dressed head to toe in sleek, expensive leather. The top only had two buttons to support his front, his broad chest on full display for you to drool over. Your eyes eventually followed upwards until you got to his obscenely handsome face, his sharp, feline-like features bathed in the club’s sinful red lighting. Then, of course, the nail in the coffin was the dimpled smile he offered you, one that was so inviting that you didn’t realize you were being drawn to him like a moth to a burning flame.

“That’s right, go ahead and get nice and comfortable on my lap, sweetheart,” his words, sweet like honey, melted off his tongue in a low drawl, his limbs wrapping around you as soon as you sat down on his lap, resting one hand comfortably on your thigh, his other reaching up to play with your hair. “What brought you here tonight? To my pretty boy? To me?”

You gently hooked an arm around his neck to keep yourself upright, gazing at Wooyoung who sat beside you both on the couch, his fingers rubbing gentle circles around one of your ankles, before turning your head to look at the older man, trying to keep bad memories from flooding your brain.

San gently twirled your hair around his finger, urging in a deep, comforting voice, “Let it out. Don’t be afraid, princess.”

Your brain offered you a pleasant fuzziness instead. “I…had a bad breakup…I just really wanted to come here, get my back blown out, and forget about it all, you know?”

Wooyoung stifled a cackle, while San’s lower lip jutted out in a pout, his hand splaying across your upper thigh, slowly rubbing it up and down. “Poor angel. I bet he never made you feel needed, huh?” You mirrored his pout, shaking your head. “I can make you feel needed, baby. Do you want that?” A nod this time, your breath caught in your throat. San leaned in, pressing his lips to your warm cheek, murmuring, “Then, let Daddy take care of you, alright?”

And just like that, there were no rules anymore. No regulations. No holding back. Just you, two strangers, and a club full of people that couldn’t care less about what you were doing. San still held you in his lap, your trembling legs just barely spread open enough to allow his hand in between them, rubbing his thick digits against your cunt through your soaked panties, while Wooyoung had a front row seat. “Is it good for you, baby? Or do you want more?”

“More,” you exhaled, about to say something when San squeezed your clit roughly, making you gasp.

“More, what, princess?” San leaned in, pressing a gentle kiss to your lips, whispering against them, “What’s my name?”

“More, Daddy,” you corrected yourself, just as San’s ringed fingers moved past your panties and slipped right inside you up to the knuckle, filling you up just enough to make your brain go fuzzy.

Wooyoung moaned just when you did, biting his lip at the sight of San’s veins popping out when he began to pump his fingers in and out of your squelching hole. “Fuck, that’s so hot…she’s so wet, Daddy…”

“She is, isn’t she?” San agreed, curling his fingers inside you until he hit the spot that made you drool, his lips suddenly latching onto your neck to leave his mark behind on your skin so you could remember exactly what you did when you woke up the next morning. “Look at you, taking my fingers in your tight little cunt like this. Such a good girl.”

“Uh-huh,” you could barely verbalize, whining at his words, clenching around his digits. You could barely focus on anything else except for the older man’s thick fingers stretching you out, his rings offering you a pleasure you didn’t realize you needed in your life, though Wooyoung’s warm hands on your thighs and gentle smile kept you from getting too lost in the moment.

However, San was in the same boat as you, his trapped, throbbing cock already leaking so much pre-cum that he was about to lose it, encouraging him to suggest, “Mm, but you need Daddy’s cock, don’t you?” He watched you give him a weak nod, knowing you were on the edge of orgasming from the way your body began to lock up. “I should just fuck you dumb right here for everyone to see. Have you make a big mess on this couch. It’s my club, after all. Why shouldn’t I do what I want?” He sped up the pace, practically pounding his fingers into your cunt, your arousal leaking down your shaking thighs, continuing to dispel filthy words for only you and his boytoy to hear. “Fuck, they’ll enjoy seeing a pretty thing like you fall apart on my lap, won’t they? See this cunt of yours stretch around my cock and take my cum inside. Mmm. See the way I make you mine.”

Everything was too much. The crowded room. The possibility of someone’s eyes on you. San’s filthy words. His fingers jammed inside your soaked cunt. Wooyoung’s unwavering gaze, his hands squeezing into your thighs. The unrelenting pleasure coursing through your body. You ended up cumming so hard, you saw stars, not even realizing San was silencing your pleasured cries until you felt his lips on yours and his tongue push into your open mouth. Just as San pulled away, Wooyoung took his place, tasting the alcohol on your tongue, before gently tugging on your bottom lip with his teeth.

“Should we go to your office now, Sannie?” Wooyoung asked the older man, his hooded eyes flitting between San’s and yours, neither of you even having to speak another word before you all got up from the couch.

-

“Whoa,” you murmured to yourself, looking around the expansive room, the interior matching the rest of the sleek club. Aside from the small computer desk setup in the corner, there was a large bed with satin sheets that took up a good portion of the room, but most of your attention was on the mirrors that were perfectly positioned on either side of the bed, as well as the ceiling. “Mirrors?”

“Sannie likes to watch himself,” Wooyoung giggled, rubbing the small of your back in comforting circles, leading you to the bed alongside San who sat down on the edge of it, looking up to you and Wooyoung who stood behind you, running his hands along your sides up to your shoulders, before taking hold of the zipper of your dress.

“I like to watch pretty angels like you come undone too. Watch the lust take over you until you’re covered in sweat and cum,” San mused, gazing into your eyes until Wooyoung slowly pulled the straps of your dress down, the both of them watching it fall from your body. Groaning, San began to mirror Wooyoung’s actions, unbuttoning his blazer, then pulling it off and revealing an expanse of smooth tan skin, the muscles in his arms flexing as he began to unbuckle his pants. Once San’s pants hit the floor and his thick, veiny cock sprung up, you found yourself sinking down to your knees, your mouth watering at the sight of pre-cum dribbling down the man’s reddened cockhead. “What do you want, princess? Tell me.”

“Your cock,” you requested immediately, settling your hands on his strong thighs. “In my mouth, please.”

“Ahh…?” San tilted his head to the side, his eyebrows raising up slightly.

“Daddy,” you replied swiftly, leaning in to rub your cheek against his hot, throbbing length, pouting, licking at the pre-cum that dripped onto your face. “Please.”

“Good girl. So dirty for me. Aren’t I a lucky man?” San let out a satisfied sigh, reaching down to wrap a good amount of your hair around his fist, holding it in a ponytail so that he could see your face, before sliding his cock into the hot, slick haven that was your mouth and throat. “That’s it, suck it nice and hard, princess. Show me how much you like having Daddy’s cock in your mouth.”

You reciprocated, throating his cock the best you could, choking and gagging occasionally, digging your fingers into his thighs.

“Mmm, there you go. You’re so good for me, angel. Don’t stop, okay?” San praised, closing his eyes, gripping your hair, slowly thrusting himself into your open mouth, delighted by the lewd sounds of your moans and the squelching sounds coming from your throat. Once he felt Wooyoung’s fingers slide into his hair and grip it, San looked up, watching Wooyoung lift one leg up onto the edge of the bed, the younger man’s eyes full of hunger.

Finally getting your throat to relax completely, you simply continued to take San’s cock in your throat, having to blink the remaining tears away to see San clearly — though nothing could prepare you for the sight of Wooyoung guiding San’s head downwards, his twitching cock disappearing inside San’s willing mouth.

“Fuck, it feels so hot,” Wooyoung panted, a bit of drool leaving his plump lips, thrusting deeper until he entered San’s throat, the older man’s groans vibrating onto Wooyoung’s balls each time they touched his chin. “Daddy acts so big and bad all the time, but he just loves getting cock rammed down his throat, huh?”

Wooyoung knew him so well. That’s why he was his favorite, well, aside from the angel that was taking him to heaven with only her mouth. San reached up with his free hand to massage Wooyoung’s balls, guiding his mouth along the younger man’s cock himself, sucking him off like he was made for it, like he always did.

Letting go of San’s hair to touch his own body, shuddering at all the pleasure at his disposal, Wooyoung gazed down at you, watching you obediently take San’s cock, the man’s hand still wrapped up in your hair and tugging at it. “Look at you go. You look so pretty when your mouth’s stuffed with cock, angel. You’re gonna make my Daddy cum so hard for you, huh?”

Squeezing your thighs together around your hand that was playing with your dripping cunt, you nodded your head, swearing you were about to cum just from what was happening around you, knowing San was in a similar place from the way he started to involuntarily buck his hips up into your mouth.

“Don’t swallow and save some for me, baby, okay? Don’t be stingy,” Wooyoung reminded you in a strained, breathy voice, almost falling over from the way San gripped one side of his hips, a string of obscenities falling from his lips when the man forcefully drove his throbbing cock into his hot throat, about to see god herself when San’s throat began constricting around his length like a pussy would. “Fuck, gonna cum, Sannie.”

San pulled back, a few thick strings of saliva connecting his swollen lips to Wooyoung’s dripping tip, his hand closing around the base to jerk him off. “Cum on Sannie’s face, will you? Make a big fucking mess for me.”

Wooyoung whined and panted, San’s slick hand moving quickly along his length, trying not to choke on his spit and moans, barely able to stay upright, but thankfully San had a good grip on his hips.

San looked down at you, licking the saliva from his lips, pulling out just enough so that his thick cockhead rested on your tongue. “Are you going to take this load? Hmm? Want it?”

“Yes, fuck, Daddy, please give it to me,” you begged, panting heavily, your fingers about to slip out of you from how fast you were moving them.

“Oh god, here it comes, angel,” San groaned out, squeezing around the base of Wooyoung’s cock, making him let out a broken, high-pitched whine.

Your combined pleasure came rocketing up to an intense peak, sending the three of you into a mindnumbing state of ecstasy. Thick, hot spurts of liquid came raining down on San’s face, just as his load shot out onto your tongue and down your throat, your own release soaking into the velvet carpet underneath you.

Fading out of reality during the majority of your high, your ears ringing, it took you a minute to realize that someone’s mouth was on yours, their fingers cupping your face. Opening your glossy eyes, you watched in a daze as Wooyoung took his sweet time slurping San’s cum off of your tongue.

San gripped Wooyoung’s hair and brought his head back, parting his lips and allowing Wooyoung to shovel his own cum into his mouth, swallowing it down with a low, pleased groan.

Pleased with the sin that was taking place in front of you, you took it upon yourself to drag your tongue across San’s chiseled jaw to his cheek, collecting some of Wooyoung’s release into your mouth, only to press your lips to his, letting him taste himself. Wooyoung moaned into your mouth, deepening the kiss, until San pulled you away from each other.

“Haven’t had enough, you two?” San chuckled, running a hand through his sweaty hair.

“No~ Not after that,” you giggled, rubbing your cheek against San’s palm when he caressed it.

Wooyoung wrapped his arms around you, looking at San with a sweet smile, his long eyelashes fluttering. “Can we keep her, Daddy? I promise I’ll take good care of her.”

Little wrinkles formed near San’s eyes once he smiled at you. “I suppose so.”

Apply for the taglist here ⇢ ♡

© kitten4sannie, 2023.

[nvrsaidiwasinurcloset]

okay hi just a warning rq my autocorrect is off bc it autocorrected my friend’s name to fuckin malayalam on accident. i dont like autocorrect.

ANYWAY! ive been listening to my lovely olivia rodrigo lately, specifically her new song obsessed. i wanted to know if you could make a fic with Ethan x fem! reader where readers bitchy friend has this ex (Ethan) and she made him out to be a real dick. like, manipulating and everything.

reader eventually meets him and it turns out that she remembers… a lot about him considering her friend is a constant yapper and cant shut up about him. Ethan actually turns out to be a real cutie patootie and could literally never hurt anyone.

a few days later theyd meet again at some club or party maybe where they end up hitting it off… a little too well.. yeah so she ends up in his bed (smut part, very dom ethan plspls 😛😛). they could be talking about something really random and then reader brings up how her friend basically completely lied about him and said he was a piece of shit when he really wasnt. like a realllll fluffy end before a small cliffhanger thats never gonna get finished where her friend ends up finding out and texting her.

so sorry if thats too long or confusing idk but i actually love your work so much im lowkey your #1 fan. 😍😍😍

HELLO! I switched this up a little, I hope that's okay! 💕

Also, I fucking loved the 'leave it on a cliffhanger part that won't get finished' because WHY IS THAT WHAT I DO lmao

Obsessed - Ethan Landry x Fem!Reader - Part 1

This contains SMUT - Minors DNI

Part 2

Summary: Your friend told you horrible lies about her ex-boyfriend, and once you get to know him, you realize he's not the monster she made him out to be.

Contains: Mentions of a toxic relationship, Dom-ish cocky Ethan, rough-ish sex, oral - f receiving, p in v, fluff (If I missed anything, PLEASE let me know. I'm sleep deprived atm)

A/N: This was the one that pulled me out of my writers block, lmao. It's still not where I want it to be, but I'm TRYING. I'll try to post more this week, but I will be busy so bear with me haha.

You didn’t know Ethan Landry, but you knew you didn’t like him. He used to date one of your friends, and after hearing all the horrible things he’d said and done during their relationship, you thought he was really scummy.

They dated in high school and couldn’t get enough of each other, so they wanted to go to the same college. They broke up right before freshman year started, and after almost a year, she still talked about him every chance she got. She’d tell you how controlling he was. The things he’d call her when he was mad. How he cheated on her. You couldn’t believe that she stayed in the relationship for as long as she did, because she never had anything good to say, except that she loved him.

You’d seen pictures of him, and after walking into one of your classes at the start of the new semester, you saw him in person for the first time. He was so shy as he took his seat in the lecture hall, some of the girls making their little comments about the rumors they’d heard about him. He didn’t seem like the type that would do the things your friend said, but maybe he was just really good at playing innocent. All you knew was that you needed to keep your distance from him.

When you met up with your friend later that day for lunch, you didn’t know if you wanted to bring up Ethan being in the same class as you, but once she brought him up, you decided to tell her.

“Speaking of Ethan…I saw him today,” you said, before taking a bite of your food. Her face dropped as she looked at you.

“Where did you see him?” she questioned. You explained that you saw him in one of your new classes, and she rolled her eyes. “Can you believe he still tries to text me?”

“What I can’t believe is that you haven’t blocked him,” you said, “I know I’d hate to see someone that treated me like shit’s name pop up on my phone.”

She started to giggle as you curiously stared at her. “I have him saved in my phone as ‘Tall loser with a small dick’, so I laugh every time he does text me.”

“That’s not toxic at all,” you said, as you started to think about what she’d said. “Wait, he treated you as bad as he did and has a small dick? What the fuck were you thinking?”

“All he had going for him was that he was cute,” she said, “But seriously, if I were you, I’d stay away from him.”

“Oh, please. Like I’d even want to be near him.”

Your morning wasn’t going as expected. You slept through all of your alarms; you didn’t have time to stop for coffee. You didn’t think your day could get any worse, until you walked into class and noticed the only empty seat available was beside Ethan. You took a deep breath before you walked over and sat down. Once you reached into your backpack, you realized that your laptop wasn’t there. You were in such a hurry when you ran out of your dorm and didn’t even think to grab it.

“Shit,” you whispered, “I’m so stupid.”

“Here,” Ethan said, passing you a notebook and a pen. You curiously looked at him as he offered a weak smile. “I always keep an extra notebook, just in case.”

“Thanks,” you said, a half-smile playing on your lips.

Once class started, you were taking your notes, but you kept glancing over to Ethan. He was so focused on typing that he didn’t notice, but you couldn’t help but wonder if everything your friend told you was true. At that moment, he didn’t seem like a jerk. Then again, he had only spoken a handful of words to you.

Ethan was aware of all the things that were said about him. He hoped that after a few weeks it all would’ve blown over, but once you have an angry ex-girlfriend paint you as some horrible, emotionally abusive asshole, it’s hard to come back from that. He knew that it was best for him to just keep his head down until he was able to transfer to a different school, where no one knew who he was. He was miserable at Blackmore, and he really had no reason to stick around, aside from the few friends he’d made.

After class was over, you tore the pages of notes you’d taken from the notebook to give it back to Ethan.

“Thanks again,” you said, as you handed it back to him.

“You’re welcome,” he said, shoving it back in his backpack. “I thought about just emailing you my notes, but I didn’t know if you’d want that.”

“You’re telling me I didn’t have to spend the last hour trying to write that fast?” you asked, as he flashed you a sweet, genuine smile. “Why wouldn’t someone want that?”

“I don’t know, maybe it’s because most people here hate me,” he said, sliding the straps of his backpack over his shoulders. “You’ve probably heard things about me.”

“Yeah…are they true?” you asked, as he shook his head.

“You’re the first person that’s asked me that. Everyone else just assumes everything is true,” he sighed, “But no, I’m not a bad person.”

You started to feel so guilty. You’d said plenty of bad things about him, but you only heard one side of the story. With your friends’ story changing so many times, getting more dramatic each time she told it, you were starting to realize that it was all bullshit. You still didn’t know exactly what happened, but you were curious to know what the truth was.

“You okay?” Ethan asked, noticing that you were lost in thought as you stood in front of him.

“I’m friends with your ex,” you said, as his smile slowly fell. “What’s the real story?”

He sat back down in his seat as the other students piled out of the room. You sat beside him as you waited for him to speak.

“I really loved her…but she was just so controlling. Then she cheated on me when she went to the beach with her family. I didn’t find out about that until right before we started college,” he said, looking over to you. “She was pissed that I broke up with her, then all these horrible things about me started going around.”

“That’s fucked up,” you said, as he nodded.

“Yeah, she’s still been trying to text me. I finally blocked her a few days ago.”

“Wait, she said you’ve been trying to text her,” you said, his eyes growing wide at your words.

“Her number’s been deleted from my phone for months. I have no interest in talking to her,” he said, “I know this must be weird for you since you are her friend, but I think it’s cool that you wanted to hear me out.”

“Well, I feel like I need to apologize…I’ve said some things about you that weren’t true.”

“She’s a good liar. She has almost the entire school hating me so it doesn’t surprise me that her friend does, too,” he said, as he stood back up.

“I don’t hate you,” you said, smiling at him. “I don’t know if you’d want to, and I know she’d kill me, but if you ever want to hang out sometime, let me know.”

“I’d like that.”

Ethan was kicking himself for not asking you for your number, or shit, even your social media so he could DM you. He thought you were beautiful, but he knew that hoping for a chance with you would be a reach. He really just needed more people in his life that believed him to make the time he still had at the university more enjoyable.

Your friend begged you to come to a random frat party that you didn’t feel like going to in the first place. After your talk with Ethan, you weren’t even sure you wanted to be around her. You still went, and after searching for her for almost an hour, you checked your phone to see a message from her that she wasn’t coming, and that she ran into one of the guys she’d been hooking up with on the way to the party.

“Why the fuck am I even here?” you said to yourself as you locked your phone and slid it into the back pocket of your jeans.

“Hopefully to hang out with me, if your offer’s still good,” you heard from behind you, recognizing Ethan’s voice.

“Hey,” you said as you turned to face him. “I didn’t expect to see the most hated man on campus here.”

“My roommate told me that if I stayed in my dorm tonight, he’d throw my Xbox out the window,” he said, glancing over to the muscular guy that was watching Ethan talk to you.

“Ah, so you were threatened into being social,” you said, as he started to laugh.

“I guess you could say that. Do you want a drink?”

“Sure.”

Ethan wasn’t much of a drinker; you could tell by the sour look on his face every time he took a sip. It gave him a little confidence though, as the two of you talked and got to know each other a little better.

“I don’t think I can drink this anymore,” he said, sitting the cup down on a table. You sat yours down too, and as soon as you did, someone bumped into you, shoving you into Ethan.

“Shit, I’m sorry,” you said, looking up at him. Your chest was pressed closely against his, his hands on your hips from catching you.

“Don’t be sorry,” he said, “You can stay this close to me all night, if you want.”

“Are you always this smooth? Or is it the alcohol?” you questioned as he smirked at you.

“I’m only buzzed,” he said, before he leaned down, placing his lips on yours.

Chad was still watching Ethan from afar, cheering and thrusting his fist in the air once he saw Ethan kiss you. He started to laugh against your lips before he pulled away to stare daggers through his roommate for interrupting the moment.

“I can’t take him anywhere,” Ethan said, as you smiled at him.

“We could go somewhere more private,” you suggested, as he took your hand in his.

“Want to go back to my dorm? He’ll be here for a while so I know we can talk without being interrupted.”

“Sure!”

Once you made it back to Ethan’s dorm, you were starting to think that he really did just want to talk. You enjoyed listening to him, though. He was telling you about all his hobbies and interests, and you were telling him yours. You started to glance around his side of the dorm room, noticing the cliché, dorky things you’d expect to see.

“Nice Star Wars poster, nerd,” you joked, as he smirked at you.

“Oh, I’m a nerd?” he said, as he nudged you back on his bed. He was hovering over you, his mouth inches from yours. The sexual tension got so thick as his eyes looked into yours, his hand rubbing your hip.

“Mhm,” you said, the corner of your bottom lip in between your teeth. “A hot nerd.”

He felt his cheeks start to heat up, and he really didn’t want you to notice, so he leaned down to finally connect his lips to yours. It didn’t take long for the kiss to get more intense, his tongue brushing across your bottom lip. You let him deepen the kiss, his tongue moving with yours as his hands started to roam. You whimpered into the kiss once his hand squeezed your thigh, your hips started to squirm underneath him.

He pulled away but still stayed close so the two of you could catch your breath. You were reading each other’s faces, and it was obvious that you both wanted more.

“How far do you want this to go?” he asked, his breathing still heavy as his eyes looked into yours.

“As far as you want,” you said, your sweet tone making him groan.

“That’s not what I asked you,” he said, as he leaned back down to kiss your neck. His curls were tickling you, but the only reaction you had were the soft moans slipping past your lips from how well his mouth moved. His hips were rutting into yours, showing you how hard he was for you.

“I want you to fuck me,” you said, as he pulled away to look at you.

“You sure?”

“Mhm.”

Ethan was a little, well, very eager. He got you undressed in what felt like seconds, leaving you in just your panties. Once he stripped down to just his boxers, you got a little curious. You glanced down to see his hard cock straining against the fabric, and started to laugh to yourself, your gaze going to the ceiling.

“What’s funny?” he asked, as he hovered back over you to take one of your nipples in his mouth. Your laughing stopped, a gasp slipping out when he started to suck. “I asked you a question,” he teased, before moving to the other side.

“She really does lie about everything,” you said, as his tongue swirled. “She said you had a small dick.”

He started to laugh against you, before he pulled back. “That’s funny, because she couldn’t take it.”

“I can,” you said, his smile turning to a smirk as his hand trailed down your body to rub you over your panties.

“We’ll see about that,” he said, as he moved lower down the bed to position himself between your thighs.

He slid your panties down your legs, before running his fingers over your wet pussy. Your eyes stayed on him, your bottom lip in between your teeth as he teased you. Your anticipation just kept building as he moved down the bed, positioning himself in between your thighs. He leaned in, slipping his tongue inside your entrance.

He was sloppily eating you out, his head moving from side to side. His arms hooked under your thighs to pull you as close to his face as he could as your hands went to his hair.

“So good,” you whimpered, your breathing getting faster as he worked you closer to your orgasm.

He slid his tongue out of you to focus on your clit, quickly replacing it with two of his fingers. Your back was arching off the bed as he moved his arm back and forth, applying as much pressure as he could to that spongy spot inside you as he sucked on your swollen bundle of nerves.

“You’re gonna make me cum,” you babbled, as he started to chuckle with your clit in his mouth.

That was all it took for your legs to start shaking and your grip on his hair getting even tighter. Once your pussy started to clench around him, he slowed his fingers to a slow roll, not wanting to overstimulate you. His tongue gently licked your clit as he worked you through it, your whimpers getting softer as you came down from your high.

“That was the best orgasm I’ve ever had,” you admitted through your shaky breathing. Ethan started to laugh a little as you looked at him, your eyes hazy. “What?”

“Just wait until I’m inside you,” he cockily said, “You still confident that you can handle it?”

“I know I can,” you said, your legs instinctively spreading wide for him as his fingertips ran up your thigh.

“What are you going to do when no one else can make you feel as good as I do?” he questioned, as one of his fingers started to rub circles on your clit.

“I guess I’d have to keep you around then,” you said, as he shook his head.

“You’d only have me until summer starts,” he said, his finger moving faster. “I’m transferring to a different school after this year.”

“No, you’re not..fuck. I’ll convince you to stay,” you said, relaxing into the bed as he teased you.

Ethan pulled his hand away from your pussy before he slid his boxers off. He crawled back on top of you and reached over to his bedside table to grab a condom.

“I might let you convince me,” he said, as he lined up with your entrance. You tensed up a little because you knew how big he was. “Relax, baby.”

You did as he said, taking a deep breath as he inched his way inside of you. You were moaning as he stretched you out, and when you thought he was all the way in, he just kept going.

“Oh fuck,” you whimpered, feeling so full as he finally came to a stop, wanting to give you plenty of time to adjust. “Told you..Fuck, I told you I could take it,” you said, already struggling to speak.

“Don’t get cocky,” he said, your mouth falling open as he started to move. “I’m going to ruin this pussy.”

“Ruin it,” you said, challenging him as your lusty, hooded eyes connected with his.

It took everything in Ethan to not immediately start pounding into you, but he didn’t want to hurt you. He started slow, your eyebrows already furrowing together, low moans slipping past your lips. The head of his cock hit that special spot every single time, but you needed more. He sped up a little as your legs wrapped around him, your hands gripped tightly around his biceps.

“Maybe you can take it,” he said, his breathing getting heavier. “Can I go faster?”

“Yes,” you whimpered, as his hips moved quicker.

Your brain was starting to turn to mush, the babbles slipping past your lips making absolutely no sense. The only thing your mind could process in that moment was how good Ethan was making you feel. He thought you were adorable, already so cock drunk, and he wasn’t even close to being done with you yet. He kept his pace, but occasionally thrust a little harder to see if you could take it, the loud moans slipping past your lips as your nails started to dig into his arms letting him know that you could.

He angled your hips to go even deeper. His pace was a little slow as he made sure you were okay. Your eyes were pleading with him to go faster, because you knew the words weren’t going to come out of your mouth. It was getting so hard for him to hold back, so he finally let go. He started to pound into you so hard that your skin was tingling, all the nerves in your body on edge. Your toes were curling as he slammed into your g-spot, your whimpers turning to cries as you felt your orgasm starting to build. It was hard for you to keep your eyes open, and you were sure Ethan was going to have your nail marks on his arms forever with how hard you were squeezing him.

“Fuck,” was the only word you were able to get out, your legs wrapping tightly around him as your body started to involuntarily jolt. Ethan was sure that everyone in the surrounding dorm rooms knew what was happening, because you were being so loud. He wasn’t letting up though. He loved that he was making you feel that good.

It only took a few more deep thrusts before your entire body started to tremble, loud whines flooding out of your mouth as the wave of euphoria washed over you. He chased his own orgasm as he fucked you through it, your pussy clenching him so tight that he was moaning himself.

“I’m almost there, baby,” he said, a slight rasp in his voice from all the panting he’d been doing.

You went limp, your grip on his arms and your legs around his waist relaxing as his hips started to falter, a loud groan slipping past his lips as he released into the condom.

He took a minute to catch his breath before he slid out of you. His abs were burning and his arms were sore from your nails, but he quickly got up to take the condom off so he could take care of you.

He crawled in the bed next to you as you adjusted to lay your head on his chest, still so fucked out that it was hard to process your thoughts. Ethan just held you close, his hands softly rubbing over your bare back as you relaxed into his touches.

“You’re okay, right?” he asked, after a few minutes of you not saying anything. You lazily nodded as your hand moved to rub across his chest.

You laid there in silence as you started to think about what’d just happened. You knew your friend was going to be pissed if she ever found out, but did that even matter? She made almost the entire university hate Ethan for things he never did, and it made you sad that he felt like he needed to switch to a different school so he wouldn’t have to deal with it anymore.

“So…” you finally said, “How can I convince you to stay?”

He let out a nervous laugh, not knowing the best way to respond. “I can’t take people talking about me the way they do anymore.”

“Even if I convince everyone that it was all lies?” you questioned, your tone playful as you angled your head to look at him. “I think it’d be awful for you to leave because of her. You could miss out on someone that would treat you right.”

“Someone like you?” he questioned as he looked down at you. You nodded, before he leaned down to kiss you. “You’re good at this whole convincing thing.”

“Does that mean you’ll stay?” you asked, smiling as you sat up to look at him.

“Yeah, as long as you don’t break my heart,” he said, wrapping his arms around you to pull you back down to his chest.

“I won’t.”

You stayed in Ethan’s bed for a couple hours, making plans for all the dates he wanted to take you on. It felt like you’d known him for way longer than just a few days, the two of you having an instant connection. You hated to pull away from him, but you knew you needed to get dressed before his roommate got home.

“It’s late, can I walk you back to your dorm?” he asked, as he started to put his clothes back on.

“I can’t believe I thought you were this horrible monster. You’re so sweet,” you said, as he smiled at you. “Yeah, you can walk me home.”

Ethan walked you to the front door of your building, pulling you into a gentle kiss before he pulled away.

“I’ll text you,” he said, as he started to back away.

“Yeah, let me know when you make it back to your dorm, please,” you said, as he nodded.

When you made it upstairs and got settled into your bed, you heard your phone vibrate as it charged on your bedside table. You grabbed it and saw a goodnight message from Ethan, a huge smile on your face as you responded to him. You were so exhausted from the time you’d spend with him, and you soon felt yourself start to doze off. You heard your phone buzz again, your eyes lazily opening to see if it was Ethan. You took a deep breath once you read the message that was sent to you.

‘Why the fuck were you kissing Ethan at that party?’

[jubileemon]

Explaining Huskerdust slowburn

Huskerdust is one of the most popular ships within the Hazbin Hotel fandom, which started with their first interaction in the pilot.

From the outset, Angel Dust shows a clear attraction towards Husk, which is evident from his immediate flirtatious behavior upon Husk's arrival as the hotel's bartender. This attraction is not subtle as Angel Dust is overt in his advances, often pushing boundaries. On the other hand, Husk was initially dismissive and annoyed by Angel's flirtations, responding with expletives and a general attitude of disinterest. Yet, this sets the stage for a relationship that promises to evolve slowly over time.

Although they started off bad, with Husk often finding great irritation in Angel's continued advances, their relationship would begin to deepen as the series progresses.

In the beginning, Husk made it no secret that he was forced to stay at the hotel because of his ties to Alastor and would gladly get as far away as he could if able to. He's addicted to gambling, much the same way Angel is addicted to drugs and sex. He used to be an Overlord but gambled away his bound souls until he got desperate enough to sell his own soul to Alastor.

While his words were poorly timed, pushing Angel's buttons after he'd just suffered a night of abuse from Valentino in "Masquerade", it's hard to deny that Husk is right to be frustrated with Angel's sexual harassment. He's cuttingly accurate when he points out how Angel's lewd and carefree behavior is all a self-destructive act that he hides behind to avoid his problems, and that nobody in the Hotel is particularly impressed with or taken by the front he puts up.

In the episode "Masquerade", a pivotal moment occurs when Husk rescues Angel from a potentially dangerous situation at a club that shows a protective side under his gruff exterior. Afterwards, Husk continues to remind Angel that he can stop his act. However, Angel, shedding tears and expressing his sadness, lashes out at Husk as they argue, explaining he needs to be who he is in order to break himself, both to wash away his misery and escape Valentino.

Saddened by this, Husk helps Angel recognize the parallel misery, which led to them both admitting their regrets and Husk revealing his past as an Overlord to Angel.

Husk getting through to Angel Dust in the manner he does makes a considerable amount of sense when it's taken into account that the first step to overcoming drug addiction is usually getting the addict to acknowledge they even have a problem. Angel hasn't been able to get better despite having some genuine interest because he's been utterly refusing to admit he has a problem to fix, the moment he does his mood drastically improves as does his motivation.

The song 'Loser, Baby' became an uplifting melody for Husk and Angel Dust's relationship. It encapsulates the message that while they may see themselves as losers, they aren't alone in their struggles.

The whole song is just "Stop thinking you're special". Some people may see that as a bad message (at first) considering what Angel goes through, but like him, staying in that mindset of "No one knows what I'm going through, no one else knows what it's like to be me, etc." would not be good for him at all as it would create a barrier of isolation. To be clear, the point is that Husk calls Angel a loser because people, especially very hurt people, need to break their cycle of self-loathing somehow. And sometimes, sometimes, people need to hear that they are, in fact, a loser. But that's okay because a lot of other people are too. This is even reflected in the song, with Angel initially assuming Husk is mocking him, but eventually picking up what he's actually saying. The message isn't "You're not special lmao," it's actually "You're not alone in this, and embracing that is a big step in getting out of it."

A small detail many fans have noticed is that whilst Valentino is very forceful with Angel Dust both emotionally and physically, during the song “Loser, Baby,” Husk is never seen grabbing Angel Dust at all during the song, only ever offering his hand out for him to accept. It's apparent that Husk is expressing more interest in Angel Dust, after seeing that he isn't as shallow as he comes off to be. Since then, Angel and Husk have formed a special bond through being vulnerable and honest with each other. But this scene also shows Husk's concern for Angel's well-being, especially when it comes to drugs and a potential relapse.

In the episode "Welcome to Heaven", Cherri invites Angel and Husk along with Niffty and Sir Pentious to a bar. During this scene, Cherri tries to motivate Angel to take drugs as a way to relieve stress. Husk reminded Angel it would destroy his progress. Husk then admits that Angel succumbing to drugs would really disappoint him. Angel declines the offer, making Husk smile, but later starts heavily drinking, something Husk disapproves of.

This concern is reciprocated when Angel Dust takes care of a drunk Niffty, suggesting a shift from his earlier, more self-centered behavior. The confrontation with Valentino, where Husk is ready to defend Angel Dust, further cements their bond.

Angel was very attracted to Husk and didn't hide it, with his constant boundary pushing flirtation. After being called out for this behavior, Angel not only begins a genuine bond with the cat demon but also stops the annoying, aggressive flirtation.

As they were preparing to fight the exorcists, Husk unconsciously makes a sex comment saying that "Angels won't stop coming", and Angel laughs at this remark. Husk realizes the double meaning of it, and laughs admitting his mistake.

During the bar scene in "The Show Must Go On" an instrumental of "Loser, Baby" plays in the background during Angel and Husks' conversation, which further underscores the hidden depths of their bond. Angel takes Charlie's words to heart about living however you want that night since it may be your last. How does he choose to do it? By simply having a drink with Husk and Cherri Bomb. Husk even notes that he's changed quite a lot since he came to the hotel.

Also, the way he looks at Husk and the little piano reprise of "Loser, Baby" playing in the background. Angel's feelings for him may run deeper than they seem... 😍

[rottenpumpkin13]

HC:

Genesis is addicted to Reddit because Drama™︎. He is ready to call out all the assholes & give advice for wedding time vengeance. He has so many tabs open. So many.

Everyone has had to drag him off to bed & confiscate his PHS at some point. Their greatest weapon so far is a sleepy, adorable & grumpy Cloud who just wants Genesis to come to bed, maybe carry him, please? Before Cloud threatens to bite him like the tired little Nibel dragon he truly is inside.

Depending on the schedule, if Sephiroth is there he goes full cat mode & just flops down on Genesis, pinning him to the bed. Can't move a cat. It's illegal.

Sometimes Genesis is just at the center of a fiercely cozy snuggle pile of silver, gold & obsidian. Sometimes it's okay.

...but then his PHS chimes because no one turned it off && he needs to know if brideaway123 succeeded in getting one over on her snippy, downright insulting, obsessively micromanaging MIL! He needs to, Angeal!

Oh this I can get behind. The man loves life and drama, so he takes to lurking in every subreddit, from his fan clubs to SOLDIER, to endless Loveless. But his true love is r/AmITheAsshole, where he's defo written a post or two that's carefully worded to paint himself as the misunderstood hero.

*Genesis sits down across from Sephiroth at lunch*

Genesis: Am I the asshole for borrowing Masamune because a hero's blade adds poetic gravitas to mundane moments, then using it to recreate the sword-raising scene from Act III, but then scratching the blade when I plunged it into the wall to kill a spider?

Sephiroth:

Genesis: The Reddit thread has 10k upvotes and they say it's 'iconic behavior.' Also, the spider was fine.

Sephiroth: Am I the asshole for murdering the person sitting across from me?

Genesis: What do you mean? You're not—

*Masamune materializes at Genesis' throat*

Genesis: HELP

[impsandstars]

I saw this idea for a teacher au on twitter and had to write down some ideas.

Blitz and Stolas are teachers at a local high school. Stolas is the brand new Astronomy teacher who is a total nerd (he once spent an entire class period talking about how they used math to discover the planet Neptune when they should have been taking notes on comets) but is super kind and really cares about his kiddos. Blitz has been there for about four years and is one of the physical education teachers who also coaches their swim team. The students love him because he swears all the time, makes corny jokes whenever he gets the chance and actually teaches them about fitness and health.

Via also goes to the high school and knows her dad has developed a massive crush on coach Buckzo. She works for the yearbook and is tasked with taking photos of all of the swim meets and practices (which she totally did not choose in order for her dad to have an excuse to drive her to said events and stay so he could take her home).

Blitz and Stolas talk for the first time at the swim team’s second home game when Stolas is contemplating the ph level of the pool water and almost falls in when Blitz says hello.

Blitz, who had noticed Stolas at the beginning of the year during their welcome back days and developed a little bit of a crush himself, blatantly flirts with Stolas so much that Stolas ends up actually falling into the pool and Blitz dives in after him.

After that they are seen eating lunch together in Stolas’s classroom almost everyday.

Blitz will randomly walk by Stolas’s classroom (sometimes on his way somewhere or sometimes just to pop by) which always causes Stolas to stutter which makes everyone in his class giggle or roll their eyes.

Stolas starts up a botany club that he expects no one to join and then has like 30 people show up that barely fit into his small classroom. Blitz, passing by one day after school, notices how many kids keep showing up and decides to help out. He doesn’t know shit about plants but he likes to make things so he helps out with the poster making and fundraising part of it all.

[darcytaylor]

I have a bit of a unique perspective on Luke if anyone's interested. I think he's one of those people who adapt to any environment they're in, which is great if you're an actor, but in your personal life you can just drift, going along with whatever the stronger personalities in your life are doing.

If anyone has observed male friendships closely, they might notice that they're very different from female ones - they're more surface level and more focused on not disrupting the status quo in the group. Where women will cheer each other on when one succeeds, men will unspokenly hold each other back (I'm not saying there isn't jealousy or toxicity in female friendships, it's just that it rises to the surface and either gets addressed or explodes the friendship).

I witnessed this dynamic in particular at uni, where guys who were suddenly doing very well in their studies because they'd found their niche felt the need to conform to wherever their buddies were at, especially if it was an established, long-time friend group from childhood or school. They'd go home over the holidays and come back a different person, like it was shameful to do well at something, especially if the guy in question wasn't the "alpha" of the group. Many guys who had potential to do well in our more academic field but moved back home post-uni ended up taking jobs that were beneath their ability because that was what their friends were doing or what was considered "cool" where they were from (think bartending, club promoting, etc.). I think this is precisely what Luke is trying to navigate with respect to his own friend group and why we're all so confused by his behavior.

Now, he has referred multiple times to how important friends are to him, how some have been there for him during hard times and how he's generous with them. He has always been a good looking guy, while maybe not everyone's cup of tea, and his styling on the show in S1&2 wasn't doing him any favors if we're being honest, and it's undeniable that he underwent a major transformation for S3. All of a sudden, he got this veritable onslaught of female attention and thirst that I'm assuming he hadn't experienced the likes of before. And this coupled with the season's success changed his status within the group and in the world at large. This is where the tension starts. He's trying to adapt to his new reality while everyone around him is expecting him to stay the same, not act like he's "better than them" now, even though he might be. In this situation, he has two options - to hold himself back and default to the proverbial average of the 5 people closest to him, or do a balancing act of "a rising tide lifts all boats" type of deal by sharing the fruits of his success with the group. I think that being the loving guy he is, he's caught in this liminal space of trying to find his personal footing while doing "right" by everyone around him. These are choppy waters for anyone to navigate, especially as his friends are themselves experiencing ups and downs and the collective context is ever-changing.

Do I think him dating someone like A is a choice that he thinks someone in his newfound position would make? Yes. Do I think she's probably a very nice girl and they're having a good time together? Sure. Do I think she's on his level? No. Do I think she'll be old news if he (or she) gets slammed with work? Most likely. It's ultimately their respective availability that's holding that relationship together. Well, that and the light ego stroke of dating a woman who looks a certain way - it's how he's projecting his new "league" out into the world. But also, if they were indeed introduced by a friend, he might perceive her as "approved" by those around him and thus not disruptive of the delicate pH balance of the group. I don't know anything about his friends and who they are or aren't dating, but rest assured that if the most dominant among them were to hit a life milestone like getting engaged or married, the rest of them would follow suit in quick succession so as not to disrupt group cohesion or their collective lifestyle, regardless of whether the person they happen to be with at the time is "the one". I've seen this play out so many times that it's a bit of a cliche.

Conversely, if one of them starts dating someone, let's say, of "higher status", we'd probably see that reflected across the friend group as well. All this is to say, I don't think A is end game and he knows it too, he's been straining to acknowledge her so as not to lose her but at the same time, I think deep down he knows she's just Ms. Right Now so he's not leaning into this as hard as he was with J. I think he's still subconsciously shopping around for the future Mrs. Newton but he's a relationship kind of guy and he's trying to ride this one out for as long as it'll hold. I think that if a semi-famous woman at a similar level of recognition as him showed an interest in him, A would become old news fast, especially if he manages to mentally integrate the changes that have happened in this life over time. I think she's a buffer for his anxiety to a large extent, which is why he takes her with him everywhere. Once he settles into more of a groove, we might start seeing a more recognizable version of him.

Just my two cents.

This is very well thought out and while this is all speculation, all of it is plausible! Who am I to say what is fact or fiction?

[waywardmillennial]

SPOILERS FOR PH 7x04

there will be MAJOR spoilers under the cut -- so DO NOT click through if you don't want to see Lore spoilers for the Watcher TV episode from Jan 31, 2025!

okay, if you're buckled up then let's crack in!

After several episodes where the Professor and Ryan have been taking Phorgedytol regularly (given to them by Elmer Walter Williams) Ryan convinces the Professor to skip their dose at the end of 7x04 and they start to remember what happened at the end of season six

and that's when we learn the sad news that Estranged Producer Shane Madej (EPSM) died during the season six wrap party

beautiful memorial video here from @trashworldblog - RIP to a real one

now in the trailer and previous episodes we see EPSM walking down this alleyway but here we also see that he stops and turns to face his unknown assailant - so he knows who did this! (I think this will be important - more on this in a minute)

we see Ryan and the Professor both stunned at what they remember

then we pan over to the memorial for Shane and there are lots of easter eggs that I wanted to point out

first, lmao at Shane's lanky body needing a second urn - and also Boo Buddy!

in the next shot, there's a note from someone (Shawn?) that says "I don't really know what you did at Watcher anyway but we'll miss you. PS [your mom] follows me on IG"

and Lizzie's pink note that reads "To my fellow long white Midwestern Producer. I will never phorget u. ♡ Lizzie" and she spelled forget with the "ph"

OMG! "PH" masks the true name of Phorgedytol (instead of Forget-it-all) but also PH is Puppet History!

(ahem, sorry for that random train of thought interruption - where were we?)

also scattered in the notes are at least two references to Shane owing people money with, "Shane I can't believe that you never paid me back for that In-N-Out WTF Sam" (not 100% on the name) and another that says "This man still owes me $20… with condolences"

and a note with a drawing of the Spirit Box from Ghost Files that reads "You can still star in Ghost Files if you want (but as a ghost)"

(I definitely feel like the Spirit Box will make an appearance again soon)

and I really wanted to point out the note that's presumably from Ryan that says "Haunt me bitch" signed with a heart (!) and the note in front of the newspaper article that reads "Do Not Haunt Ryan"

another note that could also be from Ryan reads "No for real please haunt me. I -"

(and I'm probably glad the end of this note is cut-off or I'd launch myself out a window -- if Ryan was this sad about EPSM and he made himself forget it -- I am crying in the club T_T)

finally we get a look at this newspaper article dated Saturday, August 12, 2023, one day after the PH season six finale, which aired on August 11, 2023

I've transcribed the article below as best I could:

Estranged Puppet History Producer Murdered in the Street Like Dog Los Angeles, CA - In a shocking and tragic turn of events, Shane Madej, the estranged producer of the popular web series Puppet History, was found dead in an alleyway late Saturday night following the show's sixth season wrap party. The discovery has sent shockwaves through Hollywood, with fans and industry insiders reeling from the sudden and mysterious loss of the lanky ghost hunter. A Night of Celebration Turns to Tragedy The evening started out in high spirits as cast, crews, and friends of Puppet History gathered to celebrate the completion of another successful season --2nd column-- remain murky, and the Los Angeles Police Department has yet to release any official statements regarding potential suspects or motives. The investigation is ongoing, and the case has quickly become one of Hollywood's most talked-about unsolved mysteries. Madej's death has rattled the entertainment industry, where he was known not only for his work on Puppet History but also for his contributions to other popular culture at large, such as [hidden] BuzzFeed video "Dogs Watch Television for the First Time.

(it's so funny the article refers to him as a lanky ghost hunter and how this is the most unsolved mystery and that meme dog photo that looks like him hahahaha)

the episode ends with Ryan calling Dorothy Ruth to discover she married Elmer and the Professor wishing they could talk to EPSM, but he's dead, and Ryan says "hypothetically, what if we could"

[ROLL CREDITS]

theory: I think the Spirit Box is going to make an appearance (even better if they used Boo Buddy after all Shane has bullied him imo) to try to contact EPSM, and they'll find out he's in Purgatory with all the puppets that have been sent there and they'll finally be able to rescue them!

I do feel like Elmer has to be behind Shane's murder, even if he's not the one who pulled the trigger, but I don't quite know his motive? we've only been shown he wants to marry Dorothy Ruth but how does that involve EPSM?

and Elmer was really only dosing the Professor and Ryan with Phorgedytol, and maybe some of the other Watcher staff? but Shane's murder was in the news and being investigated by the police?? unless Elmer was really trying to cover it up by pushing the pills on all of Los Angeles and that's why they have the billboards all over town ...

fyi, there was a new billboard spotted in the PH s7 poster that Watcher put on IG yesterday that reads "Phorgedytol - Make Brain go 'MMMMBZZT!'"

maybe the PH buzzer sound?

that's all I have for now! thanks for reading and drop your thoughts and comments in the notes below!

[yikesss-08]

—BLESSINGS!

(JJK Megumi × Reader)

Chapter: 8/?

Words: 17, 938

Summary: you're trying to get out of your arranged marriage while trying to balance your growing feelings for your best friend <3

Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/61532893

▹ chapter two!

A few weeks had passed by and before you knew it summer break was over, just another reason to be unhappy after the fact you couldn't stay in your room and do nothing all day anymore.

The first week of school went by fast, a blur of getting reaccustomed to waking up early and unfortunately doing mundane work to your obvious dismay. It was always made more bearable with Yuji, Nobara, and Megumi there with you as well with your shared classes all together.

As odd as it seemed, you four didn't usually eat lunch together, maybe a few times, but you each went to your separate friends groups. Except for you and Megumi who ate lunch together more often than not.

To Yuji and Nobara, being stuck with everyone (literally you and Megumi) back at the dormitories was already enough. Back at 'real' school was their breath of fresh air and how they 'socialized' in their words...

Yuji who was well-liked on campus and just as well-known with his reputation, mostly hung out with his occult research club friends, Sasaki, Iguchi, and Junpei. He was always scouted by people from the sports and bodybuilding clubs but he always politely declined.

Nobara on the same hand was well-known maybe not as well-liked with her tendency for instigating and gossip since she was the type of person who'd always have the fight video and know about everything before anyone else.

The people who loved her loved and the ones who didn't didn't. But to her, she couldn't care less who thought what of her.

Then there was Megumi. Most people only knew of him through Tsumiki, who to them was the complete opposite of him. Other than the few acquaintances he speaks to now and then about classwork, he sticks to himself and no one goes out of their way to change that.

After 4th period with your friend Hiyori, you two were walking out of the classroom after the bell had rung, idly listening to her gush about her latest boyfriend which transitioned into her convincing you that it was time for you to find yourself one as if that finding a relationship was as easy as just going to the store and picking something up.

"You know, you have the perfect opportunity right in front of you but you're too scared to ask him out." She teased, nodding towards the direction of the aforementioned guy.

"What are you—" you began mid-sentence as you looked over at the end of the sparsely crowded hallway and saw Suna, his dark-brown eyes meeting yours as he gave you a wave.

Hiyori smiles slyly, elbowing you as she watches him walking towards you, the pounding in your chest making it impossible for you to breathe for a moment.

"Y/n, Hiyori, you guys wanna get lunch together?" he asked and gestured towards the lunch room that was accumulating with students, his gaze flitting to you and then to Hiyori.

Hiyori was the first to answer with a quick nod of her head and a warm smile before giving you a knowing look as if to say 'This is your chance.' "Yeah."

You just followed her lead, the nervousness gripping your words and the fear of saying something nonsensical causing you to not say anything at all and nod instead.

"I'll go get Astuko and Tomoya." she grinned, patting your shoulder while her eyes briefly lingered on Suna as she walked away leaving you both alone.

Suna smiled at you sending a hot, flutter to your stomach but your demeanor remained somewhat calm. Your words were finally coming out, calculated but natural, flowing with the conversation that was made up of how class was and how the sports team doing before slipping away into a gradual silence—though not necessarily awkward, but still very nerve-wracking on your part as he stayed right next to you, scrolling aimlessly on his phone.

To hide your nervousness, your eyes stay glued onto your phone as you text Megumi a series of panicked, all-capitalized, gibberish texts about your current situation.

You felt the burn of a stare in your peripherals but brushed it off as being imaginary since Suna was still on his phone, but it was shown to be real as you both locked eyes. You quickly averted your eyes but he let a soft hum of amusement accompanied by a smile.

Waiting for you at the usual spot in the school courtyard, Megumi leaned back on the wall lazily scouring through the passing students to try and catch sight of you.

What was taking you so long?

After a few moments he heard the sound of approaching footsteps and he saw you, a sigh he didn't know he was holding in left his lips as he spotted you. His hands were shoved in his pocket as you approached him, his expression more relaxed than usual. "Hey."

You gave him a quick wave as you smiled at him, your lingering anxiety still laced in your slightly fidgety behavior. "Megumi, you wanna get lunch with us?" you ask casually to hide your anxiety futilely.

Us?

He was confused before seeing Suna trailing behind you, his impartial eyes meeting Suna's before he paused. "...No." he answered shortly, hands still in his pocket to keep from rubbing the back of his neck like he did when he was feeling awkward. His gaze went to Suna's less-than-welcoming one then to yours.

The last thing he would ever do is willingly put himself in the position to be a third wheel with you and Suna... but he'd at least root for you. From a distance of course.

"You sure? C'mon, you really don't want to?" you tried to persuade him— subtly pleading more than anything—but your attempts were strangled with a simple and succinct shake of his head.

A part of you knew he and Suna didn't exactly act like friends, more like less than cordial acquaintances than anything, but the thought of them getting along seemed nice despite how unrealistic that'd be.

"Aww. Alright then." you slightly frown, your disappointment blatantly evident but you don't push the matter. Before you can say anything else, Megumi gives you a lingering look mumbling some sort of goodbye before he walks off much to your dismay.

You felt a slight pang of guilt at the thought of Megumi having to eat lunch alone but he didn't seem to mind which wasn't exactly odd. It was in his nature to be more inclined to solitude, but you couldn't think of a time when you two didn't eat lunch together.

It was like an implicitly agreed-upon must to make the school day feel a bit more tolerable for both of you.

As you and Suna reached the cafeteria, it was anything but what you expected. The table was full of his unruly friends, most of which you were unfortunately acquainted with by association rather than choice. They didn't exactly make good company with how 'manners' had no place in their vocabulary...

You wanted to eat lunch with him, not them. You frowned, your irritation thinly veiled on your expression. What were you supposed to do? Sit there and try to make conversation with them about who knows what boys talk about for fun?

You give them an awkward wave and a tight smile, sitting down next to Suna with your lunch tray in hand, each of them eyeing you like the outsider you felt like you were.

"Y/n? Why're you here? Don't you usually eat lunch with... what's his name...?" one of his friends, Kashiro, spoke up to say what everyone else was thinking, his finger tapping against the table in forced remembrance. "Damnit, I forgot!"

Another one chimed in, stuffing a rice ball in his mouth, the words coming out muffled. "Megume?"

"Yeah, him." he let out a chuckle only pushing your annoyance closer to the edge as he grinned back at you.

Before you could open your mouth to correct him, Suna also chuckled a tinge of embarrassment on his pink-tinted cheeks at his friends' behavior. "It's Megumi." he corrected, giving you a brief glance. "And I wanted her to get lunch with me."

That answer seemed to appease them enough to get off your case and change the topic to some new game that had come out recently.

He looked at you, leaning in, shoulder brushing yours so he could whisper to you, your heart rate slightly stuttering. "They can be a bit... dense at times, but they're not bad people you know. Just a little... questionable." his reassuring smile gracing your eyes. "I hope they're not making you too..."

You quickly chime in with a shake of your head as you reach for your chopsticks, Suna mirroring your action as he took his own. "No, it's fine. I don't mind them."

Most if not all of them were on the school baseball team, just like Suna, making you excluded even more from their chatter of sports talk and questionable inside jokes you didn't even want to begin to understand.

But Suna didn't join in the conversation like usual, just eating silently and every now and then when they addressed him he'd say something.

You reach for the mandarin on your tray after finishing your food, carefully peeling off its citrusy exterior as you eat a segment, the sourness jolting your taste buds.

He watches your movements for a moment before meeting your gaze. "Did you understand Mr. Girou's lesson? I didn't understand a thing honestly." he admitted sheepishly, taking a bite of rice from his tray.

You let out a soft laugh and raised a curious brow. Despite the idiots he hung around, Suna was smart, had good grades, and was a diligent student. "Really?"

"Well, you're really smart, you probably have it down." he laughed as well, the compliment making your cheeks slightly heat up.

A smile crawled on your lips remembering Hiyori's advice, this was your chance so you took it. "I could always help you study, you know? Sometime after school?"

"I might take you up on that offer soon." he grinned, giving you a slight nudge.

After finishing your mandarin, you spoke up. "I need to wash my hands, I'll be right back," you say, as Suna gives you an affirming nod and smile.

"Try not to get lost." he joked with a butterfly-inducing chuckle as you smiled back at him briefly, rising from your seat. "I'll save your seat."

You gave him an appreciative hum before you whisked past a couple of students to get to the bathroom, the space was relatively empty compared to how crowded it could get during lunch. It didn't take long, just thoroughly washing the stickiness off before drying your dripping hands. And of course, checking your reflection in the mirror.

As you entered the cafeteria again, you stilled in your tracks your eyes trained back at the table you were at before, yet the seat you were just in was taken, someone sitting right next to Suna.

Black shoulder-length hair being the first thing you saw, and when she turned to the side face a laughing Suna, you could see her unmistakable side profile, her wide smile, her brown eyes.

Was that Hiyori?

A tinge of something laced in your expression, but what it was you couldn't tell, yet it wasn't pleasant.

Before you could think to do anything you feel your phone vibrate as you fish it out and see a text from Megumi finally replying to your previous strings of gibberish messages.

Have fun.

Your heart slightly sinks at the text, dampening your already waning mood as the guilt comes back.

Conflicting thoughts on whether you should even go back to the table and tell Hiyori you were sitting there first or sit somewhere else instead stirred in your mind. But a part of you was upset Suna hadn't even told her that seat was taken in the first place.

A frustrated sigh leaves your lips as you turn on your heel, walking down the hallway before you even knew it.

What was the point of even going back?

Slipping into the quietness of the school library, a nice change from the bustling cafeteria, you close the door behind you. You looked past the various rows of large bookshelves filled with hundreds of thick-spined books, to take a glance around.

It always had a specific smell in here, like aging paper and heady, loamy wood, a scent unique to the place.

After a brief moment, you see his distinctive black spiky hair and knew you found him, sitting in the back reading like he always was. Typical Megumi. There weren't a lot of people here either which only helped in finding him, but he was always in the same place anyway.

"There you are." you approach him, your footsteps nearly silent against the thick, woven carpet as you stood in front of the table he was sitting at.

He looks up at you neutrally. The fact you probably only came here because things probably hadn't turned out how you wanted, obvious by the slight frown tugging on your lips, instead of out of genuine concern for his well-being didn't exactly sit well with him. "I'm guessing you didn't have fun. That's why you're here?"

Well, he was laying it on thick...

"Yeah, yeah something like that... but I felt bad too, y'know? Letting you eat lunch alone." you admit in a mumbled tone, your expression as deflated as your mood.

"I have no issues eating alone." he said a bit too quickly, a hint of defensiveness creeping in his tone at what he thought was pity coming from you.

You put your hands up in mock surrender trying to lighten up the dimming mood. "You know I didn't mean it like that. I just wanted to check on you, I know we usually eat lunch together."

You plop down on the chair across from him. "So... How's your lunch been?" you curiously look over, trying to peer at what he was reading this time.

He looked back at his novel, his eyes reading the same sentence over and over mindlessly but not registering what it was saying, you were distracting him. "Fine." he muttered.

"Don't give me that." A frown taints your previous smile, bristled at his curtness.

He meets your gaze, a glint of curiosity in his eyes as he remembers. "Did you read the book I gave you?" There was an undercurrent of doubt in his tone.

But for once you could actually confidently prove him wrong, which only added a layer of smugness to your expression. "I actually did." you grinned, expecting some sort of praise.

"How far did you get through?" he probes instead, crossing his arms, slightly satisfied that you even read it.

You pause in recollection, trying to remember the sleep-hazed memory from how reading it was an impulsive late-night idea to try and get off your phone. "...Like maybe seven...? No, definitely eight."

He looks unamused once again. "Of course."

"Hey now, I was tired... I actually tried to start reading some of it." you mirror him, crossing your arms as you as an indignant huff left your lips.

He stifles the urge to roll his eyes.

He wouldn't admit but he just wanted you two to be able to talk about something you both knew. After all both his tastes and yours varied, sometimes and sometimes not aligning.

It'd be nice just being able to talk to you about it, hear you talk about what you thought of it, how it made you feel, whether it was good or not. The same way he'd listen to your mindless rants about your favorite band or maybe a movie you had watched.

But those cherished rants were coming less and less often and being replaced with stupid conversations about Suna.

God, he was starting to hate that name despite how much he tried to support your crush on him.

"...How was it? Did you eat?" he asked, a part of him knowing it didn't go well with how you weren't rambling on and on happily about how this or that happened.

You shift in your seat uncomfortably at the mention. "It was something... it's whatever though. And yeah, I did." you did a lazy stretch before you crossed your arms on the table, your head finding its way to nestle comfortably on top. Your eyes flit one more to Megumi's, meeting his gaze. "Wake me up when lunch ends?"

He gave you a simple nod, watching your eyelids rest peacefully for an extended moment, his mind a cloudy storm of conflicting thoughts he wasn't ready to admit.

A silence blanketed you both again, only interrupted slightly every time he gingerly thumbed a page.

For you, it was another break, another sliver of well-needed serenity. To temporarily forget about anything else but the current moment.

But to him this was a reminder of everything he was slowly starting to lose, starting to get less and less of.

And that wasn't a pleasant feeling, the idea that you were even slightly beginning to drift away…

.

.

.

Thanks for reading if you made it this far! ^^

Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/61532893

[dmmdconfessions]

[Image text: I was on PH and found the sex scene of mink and aoba at the club. I thought it was SOOOOO hot and I thought mink was hot too until after I watched some playthroughs of the game. He got his little gang members to rape aoba..]

[dagarbagerat]

Garbage Rat Lore Compilation - Complete Season 1

I found the notes!! If you don’t care about Oli the Garbage Rat’s life story as Season 1, keep scrolling. Otherwise learn more below the cut. Information is vaguely ordered chronologically from when it’s mentioned in the stream. Any new information relevant to old details are appended to the end or placed nearby.

Note: Oli is an unreliable narrator; do not take every fact written here as truth. CC! Oli has stated that Rat! Oli has a terrible memory and is full of contradictions. This compilation is in part here to help piece together what parts are truth and what parts are fiction.

If I choose to do it there will be a separate post for streams in Season 2, maybe including all this prior information with new information added on.

Family/Friend Deaths

His father was drinking water out of a toilet in a night club in Central Sheffield. A drunk person sat down and it all went dark, then he was flushed. Oli says if his tail was longer he could’ve pulled him out and saved him implying he was there when it happened. He also told Shelby that part of the reason their father drowned was from trying to help people too much. His father was flushed in 2005, when Oli was 13 (said OOC so it isn't him rambling). He said that his father went to the bathroom in order to put on a maid outfit before he was flushed. He mentions that the toilet was in the nightclub of "corp." As of Stream 8 he said he was over his father's drowning. Oli implies that he flushed his father by saying there's a cycle and one day he'll be flushed by his son, though it's possible his brother flushed his father (OOC it was clarified that Oli is the one that pulled the lever)

His mother died when he was young (long before his father died) to various unspecified rat diseases. He also has a bladder infection he got from his mom which may have been one of the diseases that killed her. Oliver told him they thought his mom died to a "denim disease" and Oli agreed that that is true. Says that his mother probably got diseases from the NY water, and that no normal disease could've killed her. Says his mother got denim disease from jeans

His grandma died to a spider

His little brother, twitch, died in a stream

His sister was cooked alive

His grandpa fell and went splat

His grandma fell to her death. It’s unspecified if this is a separate grandma to the spider one

States he has a dead uncle

Oliver was murdered with a knife after Oli hired Martyn to kill them. Oliver is included as they were his friend during the majority of Stream 1 and Oli even told them that they could be his new family

Cats ripped some of his family to shreds, specifically he mentions his “sister twice removed” (some fleas in chat speculated this meant his sister named “twice” was “removed” from the world by cats since sisters by definition can’t be twice offset a generation). A cousin was also ripped to shreds by cats

His aunt twice removed lived in a paint can, but the fumes got to them and drove them crazy before they eventually perished from the fumes. Note: this aunt was only referred to with they/them pronouns. Also, “aunt twice removed” would typically be called a “great-grand aunt”

A whole “flock” of his cousins were in a pizza box together when a human found them and threw them all into a composter where they died

His friend Remy, from Paris, was found dead after bleeding out on a carpet

Had a step father who died as well. Causes unspecified and it’s unclear which of his parents his step father was married to

His wife died

His uncle fell out a window and went splat, he doesn’t know for certain if his uncle was pushed. He was there and saw it happen with his own eyes. Unclear if this is the same uncle mentioned in stream 1 with no specified death

Brother was caught by the tail by an infant and died (unclear what the child did to the brother to kill it)

His "Evil Aunt" tried to poison him before she ultimately died. He was still sad to see her go

His Uncle Philip was a chain smoker

His best friend Martyn was killed by his own hand during a fight to the death over whether or not Oli murdered Apo (Martyn threw the fight). Oli later says that Martyn is an honorary family member after he sacrificed himself

Mother twice removed ate bad cheese and died

Lost a lot of brothers to a sinkhole in NYC he calls "The Thames." Believes that The Thames in England slowly drifted there from NY

His lover Christopher was eaten by a fox

His "ancestors" died to denim related diseases

Sister "twice removed on his cousin's side" died by falling down a lit chimney as though they were a log.

A sister died at 23

A brother was run over by a taxi in the big city

Step father "twice removed" was eaten by his father before being flushed

Believes Shubble died from a cat incident while he was in the bar. Also something about her turning into a pumpkin (not in my notes but was reviewed in the recap stream).

Locations in his Life

Lived and grew up in Sheffield. Was in Sheffield when his father died at age 13, says he's "from Sheffield" as opposed to New York because that's where his father died. He also believes that Sheffield is the capital of England

Lived for a while in a chalet in Paris. Had a good friend named Remy while living there. One of the last meals Remy made for him was shrimp. Also, Remy is El’s great uncle. Remy regularly would give him frogs that were going to be served. Also, Oliver was Remy's lawyer when the place was sued for poor hygiene

Also in Paris, he spent time living on the streets. Here, he knew street cats that were just like the street rats. Shubble also lived in the streets of Paris at the same time as him, sometimes Remy gave her some food

Also in Paris, he possibly did some modeling or knew models as he is familiar with the amount of direction they are given when posing. He also learned lessons of love during his time here, such as, "love comes at you fast and then it falls down a drain" (this may be a reference to a dead lover and possibly the dead wife he mentioned once)

Implied that he’s visited London as he “knows the type” of rat that never left London. It’s possible he’s stereotyping without ever having been there himself but he’s been to stranger places so it’s not a stretch for him to have visited

Spent some time in the trash of New York. Witnessed a lot of crime there. His sister Shubble considers herself to be from New York instead of Sheffield. Has never paid for an MTA subway ticket. He also learned "The Two-Step Rat" dance in Brooklyn. He is familiar with money laundering from when he lived in New York. Says "NY does not have charity" and that NYC is so big people don't notice or care about rats. He learned to move on the ice because of his life in the frozen NYC sewers. During the winters, he would huddle for warmth in the NYC bins

In NYC his mother would eat metal from the billboards, modeled for the Statue of Liberty, and made the city what it is today (gave the rats rights and guided them there).

Also while in NYC he knew a rat named Master Splinter

Has been to New Orleans and saw Hamilton there

Says he was born in the wilderness before the big city

Says he's been to Rio and ate lots of serrano sausages there. Seems to think people in Rio primarily speak Spanish

Claims he was in the Titanic. Specifically the ship, not the movie. Since this is impossible time wise he is either completely fabricating this memory or was on another ship modeled or named after the Titanic

Says he's been trapped like Apo (meaning by an exterminator) before in "the big city". It is unclear which big city he means as he's been to several

Claims he doesn't know the sea because he's from the city

He believes that "New York" is the entire world, thinks Sheffield & England are in NY. Also believes he's been to every bin in the world.

Health Issues

He is 80% alcohol & 20% garbage

Has a bladder infection

He is pretty sure his body literally cannot handle normal food. After several weeks in the house he now will eat literally anything he is given (but has a special place in his heart for garbage), however, as of Stream 6 he found that eating this cleaner food & drink has resulted in creamier poops & funny insides. He says that fresh food often makes his teeth hurt; sometimes his gums bleed when he bites something that isn't rotting. He prefers his drinks & cheese moldy.

His tail has been gnawed short by gnats

He is balding from lack of nutrients (not really visible on the skin so either he means his hair is thinning or there are missing patches of fur under his clothes)

Had lice as a child

He’s pretty sure his brain cells are rotting

Has a weak heart which he thinks is due to a lack of potassium. He also said he has "bees in his heart" (not sure if this means arrhythmia but that would be my best guess)

Poops a lot due to his poor diet

Instead of fleas, he considers chat to be voices in his head. He still has fleas like any other rat, but doesn't talk to or hear them

Says he is so small due to a lack of calcium and potassium

He has lost some of his fingers in the walls

Is fully aware he has memory issues; as of Stream 4 he has already forgotten who wrote "HELP" on the walls of his house and thinks it may have even been himself & he just forgot

He has gotten metal lodged in his esophagus. He eats iron in particular because he doesn't get enough iron in his normal diet

Oli says he's had to eat his own poop to survive in his past. Worth noting that Shubble notes she has never had to do that

He does keep clean by taking dirt baths occasionally

According to Shubble he "smells like pee & rotting vegetables"

He has bad eyes

After the ratsgiving feast resulted in a much larger poop than usual he tells Oliver that he doesn't have Irritable Bowel Syndrome, instead he claims his bowels are "friendly & kind, unlike [himself]"

He hasn't changed shirts in 20 years

His teeth are sensitive to the cold

He would eat baby powder as a baby to grow stronger

Parental Relationships

His father was the last person to love him, his mother loved him too but she died first

One of his parents is in heaven and the other is in hell, did not specify which is where

His mom didn’t love him anymore when she was dying

He says a cat (Oreo) was acting “just like his mother” when the cat attacked him soon after they shared a sweet moment together

His mom is the only person who ever gave him gifts, his father was always too busy. During Christmas, his mother would always take the gifts back as they could only afford enough presents for one person and she was "greedy"

He believes his father went out of his way to help others too often

His father disapproved of the family living a non-trash life style

His father was a working class man, and Oli says the Janitor sometimes reminds him of him

Called El his mom by accident when she punched him; also saying that punching him was acting like his mom

Thinks highly of his father for getting the family out of the sewers and into the garbage (a step up)

His idea of charity is his dad giving him food & him giving his dad affection

He is sad nobody tells him stories anymore, his mother used to tell him fairy tales.

His father said he [the father] was the big rat and Oli never would be

Yelling scares him and reminds him of his father, it makes him nervous

His father was blonde like Jimmy

Mother had 10 kids and 8 died. Shubble is the only other one left

Education

Knows how to read the numbers “5” and “0”. Told Shelby he’s not very good with numbers

Has stated he has gone to both rat school and rat college (could be the same place). However, he was kicked out of school when he ran out of money. He had a friend named Joe in rat college. He also seems to have cut class fairly often to look for garbage

Is seen reading and writing, and has told some rats he learned how to do this in rat school. He has also told other rats he can’t read or write as he’s just a dumb garbage rat. He has also told some rats that he can write, but not read, and that he instead gets “the vibes” from what’s written

He’s read the book “Of Rats and Men” and considers it a classic all rats should know

Says he learned how to read from the papers and food wrappers in the garbage

His sister also went to rat school and they both learned cursive there

Says his writing is practically his own language

Did not learn how to tell time in rat school because he was too busy looking for garbage

Knows German, jokingly said it was his mother tongue

Relationship with Shubble

Shubble is his sister, the two say they were born in the “same rat tube” which seemed to be Oli’s way of implying they’re twins/from the same rat litter. He’s referred to her as his “big sis” and she thinks she was born first but also admits that saying she’s “older” isn’t right. Oli treats her as if he has more life experience than her, but this may be due to how different their lives seem after they last saw each other. It's possible neither of them remember who is older. The two continue to argue in Stream 6 about who is older briefly and come to the consensus that they're born in the "same rat tube" at the same time again

The two hadn’t seen each other in “a while” (the timeframe changes between days, weeks, months, and years) with Oli last seeing her drowning in a puddle before being washed downstream into a big river. He was there and cried out for her shouting “nooooo” as she was washed away. He believed she was dead like the rest of their family until he saw her again in the house

Oli has on numerous occasions in the Halloween stream used the nickname “Shebble” for her (even typing it out this way)

Shubble doesn’t want to remember how her family died and says things like “stop reminding me” when Oli talks about how their father drowned. She also seems to have repressed the memory of her parents deaths as she expressed surprise as if she had only just learned her dad died when Oli mentioned it the first time, but later says she remembers and that the two are each other’s only family left

The two of them have fought street cats, raccoons, badgers, wombats, and more together. Raccoons were her “biggest enemy” when she was living in New York

Unlike Oli, Shubble considers herself to be from New York and not Sheffield. This is because Oli spent more of his life moving from place to place and explained that "home is where the heart is" and his heart is still where his dad died. In her presence he'll sometimes say he's from "New York and Sheffield". In Stream 7 he explicitly claimed that NYC is his home, in Stream 10 he was back to saying he was from "New York and Sheffield".

Oli thinks she’s losing her heritage as a trash/garbage rat and becoming too much like the other rats (cleaner). He said he had a phase like that where he wanted nicer things too, but also said that since their father isn’t here to disapprove he’ll have to do it.

Shubble at one point forgot their brother(s). She later states that Oli was never her favorite brother (while the two were squabbling) implying she remembers having at least one other brother

Shubble and him both like to live in ways that remind them of their old life; she leaves her window open at all times to feel more like she's on the streets while he lives in the dumpster. She considered moving into the dumpster with him as a second home

Both Shubble & Oli agree that they had other sisters that aren't around/alive anymore

Shubble has been to court before, and implies she means as a lawyer defending Oli

Both Shubble and Oli have seen Suits and possibly watched the series together

Shubble says it would've been easier to be Oli's lawyer than to lie and say she likes him

Shubble says Oli is the most pitiful and sad rat she's ever seen and says he doesn't need to do any acting during the court case to appear that way

Shubble says she remembers the two of them would cry for food together on the streets. Oli says that never happened and that she disappeared at age 2 (worth noting that the timeframe they've been apart is inconsistent)

When Oliver asks if the two are related, Shubble says she sometimes questions that fact herself since they don’t really look alike. She says they were both born in a pile in New York and rats just kinda accepted who was next to them as family. So even if not biologically related, they grew up together as family

Shubble remembers the family living in a drain pipe under a bagel shop which Oli says never happened

Shubble says he has a fibbing problem

Shubble says he definitely probably killed at least another guy while on the streets of New York, but the crime only allegedly happened

Both Shubble and Oli agree that they've spent cold nights huddled together under wet newspapers & hot dog buns

Shubble says that the two of them were there for each other when the family was swept away in pipes under a bagel shop. Oli says that's not what happened to their family

Shubble and Oli used to get into street fights regularly in NY. After Oli wins the trial by combat Shubble is surprised as he apparently never won a street fight ever before then

Both Shubble and Oli have beds in the other persons house

Both Shubble and Oli grew up never apologizing ever since that's not the NY way and people who apologize once never stop apologizing

Oli says Shubble is his sister from his father, NOT another mister in Stream 8, but in Stream 10 he thinks Shubble was possibly adopted

Other Lore Bits

Says he is in his “mid 50s” in rat years. However he got this number from reading a 5 and a 0 on a coin. He is actually 30 years old, and was 13 when his father was flushed in 2005 (said OOC, this is not an in character bit of rambling).

The movie “Flushed Away” is based on his dad’s story and he hasn’t received any royalties. At one point he stated that the lack of money is why he lives in & eats garbage, although he's since decided he'd live a garbage based life regardless as it's what his father would've wanted

Doesn’t bathe & avoids water in general as it reminds him of how his father drowned. Says he washes himself sometimes in dirt. He uses the essential oils from the cheese he finds on pizza lids as shampoo

His dad drank every night (mentioned his father being a drunk in multiple streams)

His last name is “Orionsound” but he considers his full name to be “Oli the Garbage Rat”

Pronouns are he/rat/garbage and more

Oli (the streamer) has stated that he is “literally the smallest size [of rat]”

Likes Papa Caspacito The Butler in a non-platonic way. Only learned The Butler wasn't Papa Caspacito much later, and will still refer to The Butler as "Papa"

His sister loved learning cursive when she went to rat school

Has done shrooms in “the big city”. It is unclear which big city this was as he’s been to several

He nibbles on tide pods at night

He is aware of China and how far away it is

He knows a lot about training/befriending cats (specifically strays), as if he’s done it before (likely the Parisian street cats he knew)

His wife used to nibble on his tail in a sexy way (tail was already short due to gnats gnawing it down), but she died and it’s only been nibbled on in an unsexy way since then

Was on the streets for 20-30 years, he isn’t quite sure how long

Refuses to be used as a test subject

The pigeons in Sheffield taught him to leave his poop everywhere

Shubble’s pumpkin with a ·_· face reminded him of their “unkie”

He is fine living the fine life, but considers it as more of a vacation

He considers the garbage to be a step up from the sewers

One of his uncles if fully familiar with army terms and may have even served

Believes "The Plague" happened in '59 and says he remembers being alive during it. This is impossible as we know he is 30, it's also impossible even working with the "mid 50s" number

Oli believes he is good with men, but also says that women & men always wind up losing interest in him

Oli's story about what happened to Apo (he was there, but can't say if Apo fell or was pushed- nobody can ever know for sure) parallel's his story about the Uncle that he watched fall Very Closely

He has seen Attack on Titan, Game of Thrones, Suits, and Law & Order

Upon overhearing Apo say that Oli's killed 3 of the rats Oli jokes to the voices in his head "3 murders down, 10 more to go" and later says to Oliver "no more trials, any more murders they should just happen"

He considers month old garbage to be good garbage as it's barely rotted

Oli's ideal home is a dual dumpster (2 dumpsters stacked on top of each other) with lots of dumpster rats living together. He wants kids and kind of wants a dumpster/garbage rat girl to settle down and breed with to accomplish this large family lifestyle he misses

He considers himself to be a lover, not a fighter

His arms are too short to get traction in water so he doesn't really know how to swim, he is seen floundering in the water being rushed downstream for a bit before visiting the glow squid. Although he does swim to visit the glow squid, it is more likely this was done for the sake of moving the event along rather than Oli getting over his fear of water/learning to swim

He doesn't like the smell of wet fur as it reminds him of his father drowning

Saw a corpse by the trash (possibly an opossum) he couldn't identify and joked that he "froze to death" when he couldn't get back in the house when the snow came.

Hasn't changed shirts in 20 years

Says he'll do anything for food and likes his drinks & cheese moldy

People, Timmy & Tommy, would throw crumbs and garbage at him from their window

Believes that if you eat a full fresh NY Pizza as a rat you will die in 7 days

Doesn't know Victoria's secret

Claims he has many rat kids around the world that have tuitions

Believes rules only apply when they're not love related

He doesn't believe in God because he lives in the trash and his parents are dead

He has a brother named Sausage who is/was in Spain

Mentions "the war" several times

Bonus from the Recap Stream

What is your Mother's name? - Shelby says "Martha", Oli says "Sue"

What is your Father's name? - Oli says "Stewart", Shubble agrees saying he's "Stewart Little" but grown up. His father can be called "Big Stew"

Together their parents are "Martha Stewart"

Where did you get your outfit? - Shelby, like Oli is wearing the same outfit from years ago, she just cleans and takes care of it

Oli says about his father "I drowned him and I made sure of it"

[rosenrot234]

I'm aware a lot of silent hill acts kinda like a big ol ink blot test for the player. That includes the characters to a point. Folks having diff opinions usually is fine when it comes to silent hill. I get it.

But at the same time I feel kind of confused when people call James stuff like pervert or that he's toxic masculinity. I never got that vibe. I'm talking about OG James too.

To me the sex stuff with silent hill is "Dude James hasn't had any kind of intimacy in 3 years. And he had a intrusive thought like ONCE probably looking at a nurse taking care of Mary." And Silent Hill is skipping in a smug manner all "You still thought about it" even if it was a lightning fast intrusive thought.

His indifference to the monsters being hurt to me is "He's angry at the cancer / disease. Not Mary. The Mary he loved isn't here anymore". So when he sees the Mannequins being harmed by Pyramidhead, that is why he's indifferent to it and just focusing on hiding. To me the cancer is making a total mockery out of Mary by appearing so feminine based. So that's why all the monsters just look so icky but so sexy. And again why Pyramidhead punishes the monsters too. James had that intrusive thought and felt guilty about it. But he's not taking it out on just women period. He's taking it out on himself. So Pyramidhead messing with the monsters too makes sense. I understand WHY people think its purely punishing women. I just politely disagree. ( Altho one can also see the apartment scene with PH as "He's just playing with dollies. Making a silly widdle mockery of playing house" since he's using 2 Manniquins for this. It gave me more a chuckle since PH is a giant troll, that is what he is meant to do )

This is also probably why if you do the kill / stomp a bunch combo a bunch against the monsters, you actually nudge your playthrough towards In Water. The more James really really beats up the monsters ( himself ) , the more he's at risk of drowning. It's a very small nudge though. Nothing to really worry about if you're achievement / ending hunting.

People take him saying he hated Mary way too black / white imo. But again. I'm aware. Ink blot test. This is more a mild disagreement at the end of the day and I wanted to ramble.

I'm also not trying to ignore the whole strip club thing either. I was talking more about the core of the character. Dude was trying to cope. But I don't think that makes him this big slobbering horny beast I see with some fan portrayals of him.

Christ reading thru this post to check if it sounds alright just makes me think "Well if people didn't know I was Asexual , they sure do now". lol