#usually i'd say fine i'll write on my phone

[letstalkaboutfandomsbaby]

╔══•.·.☆.·.♥︎.·.☆.·.•══╗

buff guy

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ʚ Part 5 ɞ

❥ CW: chubby fem reader x buff guy, LOTS of dialogue, a little bit on innuendo

❥ A/N: hello!! This chapter got LONG sksksk but it was fun to write and I hope you all enjoy it!!

You go to work as usual on Monday. The day is normal, save for the several texts you receive from Guy throughout the day. It's on your break when you're finally able to see all of them.

Guy: Hi

Guy: It's me

Guy: 1 Attachment

Guy: This was my breakfast

Guy: Do you like photos of food? Would you like me to send more of them?

Guy: 1 Attachment

Guy: This was my lunch

Guy: I hope you are just busy with work and are not ignoring me. That would hurt.

Guy: Please let me know when you get this

"Jesus Christ," your coworker says, scrolling through the messages again. "He's clingy. The food does look good though."

"What should I say?" you ask.

"Well, I would say 'hi', and then maybe 'I am at work, I can't talk right now', and then maybe 'I will text you later'."

You sigh, taking your phone back and writing him what your coworker suggested.

Guy: I understand. Can we talk tonight? I would enjoy speaking with you on the phone

Y/N: Sure, we can talk tonight. Maybe we can chat while I make dinner

Guy: I would like that

You put your phone away, taking it out again once you get home.

Y/N: Hey, I'm home if you want to call

Almost immediately after you send the text, your phone rings, 'Buff Guy' showing up on your screen. You bite your lip, flicking the 'answer' button.

"Hello?"

"Hey." His voice is so deep over the phone, making you shiver. "How was your day?"

"It was fine. Nothing exciting happened. What about you?" He sighs.

"It was boring. I hated it." You hum.

"The mystical life of a CEO, huh?" He chuckles and your stomach flips delightfully.

"Yeah, exactly." The two of you go quiet before he clears his throat. "I... I missed you today." You arch your brow.

"Oh really?" He hums in agreement.

"So much."

"Hmm."

"Did you miss me?" he asks. You pause, thinking.

"Actually, yeah. I did. I missed seeing you when you come in for coffee. I missed making your drink like usual. I spent all day making dumb cream-chinos and lattes."

His breathing turns heavy. You can even hear him swallow.

"Guy? You okay?"

"Yeah, uh... I'm really sorry but I need to go."

"Need to go? Already? We've only been talking for five minutes."

"I know, I'm sorry but... something's come up."

You pout, but you're thankful that he wasn't there to see your sad expression.

"Okay, I understand."

"Wait."

"Mm-hm?"

"Can we please talk tomorrow? I'm sorry for cutting things short tonight, but I promise tomorrow will be different."

"Hmm... okay. But don't make this a habit."

"I promise I won't. I'll talk to you tomorrow."

"Okay."

"Goodnight."

"Night."

You pull the phone away from your ear, hitting the 'hang up' option. You find yourself alone, disappointed that your call couldn't go on longer than you wanted.

The next day, Guy calls again around the same time.

"Hi."

"Hey, Guy."

"I'd like to apologize again for last night." You hear shuffling on the other end of the line. "I didn't want to end the call so suddenly, but I had things to attend to."

"It's okay."

"What are you up to?"

"Well, I was going to make dinner."

"What will you make?"

"Baked spaghetti," you say with a smile.

"That sounds really good."

"Mm, well, maybe if you play your cards right, I can make it for you some day."

"I would be honored." You laugh, pulling out a pot.

"Hold on, I gotta get some water. I'm gonna put you down for a bit."

"Okay."

You place the phone on the counter, beside the sink. You fill the pot with water, taking it to the stove and turning the stove on. You picked your phone back up again.

"Hey, I'm back."

"I missed you." You snicker.

"It was, like, two minutes max."

"I still missed you." You hum, waiting for the pot to boil.

"So, what exactly do you do as a CEO?" He grunts.

"Nothing important. I mostly hire people and encourage them to actually do their job right."

"Ah, okay. So why did you have a business trip?"

"I am hiring an executive to represent our company in this city, so I'm interviewing people this week."

"Ooooh."

"It's all very boring. Tell me about your day." You scoff, grabbing the spaghetti from the pantry.

"It wasn't anything special. Just made drinks, like usual."

"Was anyone mean to you?"

"No, everyone was nice. The crockety old man who comes in for an extra-dry cappuccino made with almond milk was actually pretty decent today. Apparently today is his anniversary."

"Oh, that's nice. How long has he been married?"

"I didn't care enough to ask."

He laughs, deep. It makes you smile as you add the pasta to the water.

"What did you eat today?" he asks.

"Hmm, I had two coffees at work and..." You think for a moment. "Oh! Yeah, I ate half a sandwich from the shop next door. I'm saving the other half for lunch tomorrow."

"That doesn't sound like much."

"It wasn't, but I wasn't that hungry."

"Please take care of yourself," he continues, "at least while I'm not there."

"What are you, my dad?" There's a pause on the other end of the line.

"Do you want me to be?"

"Oh my god, WHAT??" Your eyes are wide, staring into your living room. "Are you being serious right now? Please tell me you're not being serious."

Laughter erupts on the other end of the line and you groan.

"You're fucking with me, huh?"

"Exactly."

"Fuck you."

"Some day you will."

"EXCUSE ME?! HELLO?! WHO DO YOU THINK YOU'RE SPEAKING TO?!" He laughs again, louder this time and you growl. "If you keep this up, I'm just gonna hang up."

"Haha, no, no, I'm sorry. I'll stop." You sigh, pressing your cool hand against your warm cheek.

"What did you eat today?" He hums in thought.

"I had egg whites for breakfast with some avocado. I had a turkey burger for lunch. And then for dinner I had salmon and a salad."

"Hm. Can I be honest with you?"

"Always."

"That sounds boring as hell." He laughs at that.

"How so?"

"Egg whites? Turkey? Salmon? Where's the fun in that? Eat some carbs."

"The turkey burger came with a bun."

"And I bet it was whole wheat, huh?"

His silence answers your question and makes you laugh hard, throwing your head back.

"Oh my god, I'm right aren't I? Oh my god, that's so funny."

"You're very smart, you know that?" You hum, pulling the spaghetti sauce and shredded cheese from the fridge.

"I'm just good at predicting things."

"And yet you couldn't comprehend that I like you?" You pout.

"That's different."

"Not really." You hear some fumbling and a distant sigh. "I'm sorry, my coworker is calling me. Can I call you back?"

"Yeah, sure. I gotta put my spaghetti in the oven anyways."

"Alright. I'll talk to you soon."

"Bye."

You hang up, sliding the phone across the counter. You strain your cooked pasta, adding sauce before pouring it into a glass dish and covering it with a layer of mozzarella cheese. You put it in the oven for thirty minutes.

Guy: I'm sorry. My coworker got so drunk that now they're sick. I have to attend to them. Can I call you tomorrow?

Y/N: Yeah, that's fine :(

Guy: I'm so sorry about this. Please believe me when I say I would much rather be talking with you than dealing with a puking coworker

Y/N: I understand. Goodnight

Guy: Goodnight

You eat your baked spaghetti in silence.

Wednesday comes and goes, but before you can go to bed, Guy calls you.

"Hey," he begins, "I'm sorry about last night. I hope you can forgive me."

"I guess I can. It was just lonely." You hear him sigh deeply.

"I am so, so sorry for doing that to you, Y/N. I'm so sorry I put you through that. I hate disappointing you."

"You've only done it a couple times so far," you admit.

"I know, and each time is torture."

Silence fills the line before you hear him shuffling on the other end.

"Are you done with me?" he asks. You sigh heavily.

"No. I just need to lower my expectations, I guess."

"Please don't," he pleads. "I promise this isn't normal for me. I don't want you to ever feel like you're settling with me. I want to give you everything you want and need, I want to make you the happiest woman in the world, I—"

"You know," you interject him, sitting up in bed, "you're much more talkative over the phone." You hear him huff.

"It's easier to tell you how I feel when I don't have to face you."

"That's really weird."

"I know," he sighs. "I just... you know, my throat closes up when I'm around you. I feel like I'm going crazy when you're in front of me, especially when I smell you or see you smile. I feel like I'm losing my mind."

You cross your legs into a sitting position.

"Keep going," you say, and he takes a deep breath.

"When I first saw you, I thought I had met an angel. My feelings cemented themselves almost immediately. And then you smiled at me and took my order and your voice was so sweet."

"Are you attracted to me?"

"Immensely."

"In what way?"

"Do you want details or should I be generic and just say you're beautiful?"

"Details."

You hear a deep breath, then a sigh.

"You're radiant," he begins. "You're starlight. I look at you and I see a goddess. Your hair, your eyes, don't get me started on your body."

"Talk about my body."

You hear him swallow.

"Have you seen yourself? You're gorgeous. I love your body, your curves. I can't stop staring at you no matter how hard I try. I..."

"You what?"

"...I think about you, a lot, late at night. I want you so badly sometimes it makes me feel insane."

"You want me... sexually?"

"Isn't is obvious?"

"You're hard to read." He chuckles.

"You know, I get that a lot, actually."

"Gee, I wonder why." He laughs louder.

"I like how sarcastic you are. It's cute."

"Be honest with me." He goes silent as you speak. "Are you interested in me just because you want to fuck me?"

"No," he says sternly. "I could never have you in just that way. I need all of you, every last bit. I want to make you mine."

"Ah, so you're possessive."

"Only of you."

You glance at your clock, realizing the time.

"Oh, shoot. I'm sorry, I gotta go, it's getting late. I gotta open tomorrow."

"I understand. Can we continue this conversation tomorrow?"

"Sure, if you want."

"You say that a lot, you know that?" You pause.

"Does it bother you?"

"No, but I don't want you to do things just because I want to. I want you to do the things that you want to do."

"Trust me, I do. I'm just trying to be considerate."

"I appreciate that." You hear shuffling on the line. "I'll let you go. Goodnight."

"Goodnight, Guy."

You hung up, plopping back down into bed, snuggling into your sheets after plugging in your phone. You think about Guy, about the things he said, as you drift off to sleep.

Thursday seems to go by slower than the rest of the week, probably because you were opening. Guy doesn't text you very much either, which you find disappointing.

You initiate the call tonight.

"Hello."

"Hey."

"Is everything alright?"

"Yeah, everything's fine. I just wanted to talk to you."

He gives a breathless laugh.

"Really? You did? You're not fucking with me?"

"No, I'm not fucking with you."

"Wow..."

"What's 'wow'?"

"I'm just... I thought I was annoying you. I didn't expect you to want to talk to me. I felt like you were doing it just to be nice, not because you really wanted to."

"Oh..." You think for a moment. "I'm sorry I gave you that impression, Guy."

"It's okay. I was the one who assumed you weren't actually into me." He clears his throat. "You... are into me, right?"

"Surprisingly, yes."

"'Surprisingly'? What does that mean?"

"Well, I thought you'd be shallow and selfish, because I assumed all gym guys were like that, but you're pretty down to Earth. You're sincere."

"Do you—"

"Yes, Guy. I like it." He chuckles.

"You know me so well already."

"I know some of you."

"I want you to know all of me one day. I want you to know me in your bones."

You gulp, clearing your throat.

"Well, aren't you the romantic."

"Can I ask you something?"

"What?"

"What do you like about me?"

You don't expect the question, but you think about it regardless.

"Well... I've told you before, but you're very handsome. I like your muscles. You're strong, so you can protect me from big scary monsters." He laughs, and it makes you smile. "I like your laugh, and the way you smile. I like that you're straight-forward, because I need that sometimes. I'm not always the brightest."

"Don't say that. You're very smart."

"I didn't realize you liked me for the longest time."

"That doesn't mean you're not smart. I don't like when you talk like that."

You huff, rolling your eyes.

"Say you're sorry."

"What?"

"Say you're sorry to yourself."

You glance around the room.

"I'm... sorry?"

"That wasn't very convincing."

"What is this? 2nd grade? Why are you—"

"Y/N."

You sigh, tossing your head back and staring at the ceiling for a moment before recovering.

"I'm sorry for not being nice to myself."

"Good. Thank you."

"Are you done parenting me now?"

"Yes ma'am."

"Good. I don't need to be scolded anymore tonight."

"I wasn't scolding you."

"Sure, Dad."

"That's 'Daddy' to you."

"OH MY GOD, NO, STOP." He's laughing, loudly. You imagine him throwing his head back, a hand coming to his chest to steady himself.

"Messing with you is so fun." You grumble.

"Meanie."

"Aw, don't be like that. It's all in good fun."

"I know, I know."

The two of you go quiet again. You yawn audibly.

"Tired?"

"Yeah. I was up so early today."

"I'll let you get some sleep. I hope you have a good day tomorrow."

"Thank you."

"Goodnight."

"Goodnight."

"So what exactly are we?" you ask as you answer the phone on Friday night.

"What happened to 'hello'?"

"Please just answer me."

"I thought we were dating."

"Like, exclusively?" He pauses.

"Have you been seeing other men?"

"No, hell no. Have you been seeing other women?"

"Of course not."

"Then are we exclusive?"

Silence, again.

"I'd like to be," he whispers. You twist your mouth before pouting to yourself.

"I'd like it too." You hear him exhale.

"Then we're on the same page."

"I guess so."

"Y/N?"

"Yes?"

"I wanted to ask you properly in person, but I'll ask now: will you be my girlfriend? Exclusively?"

You feel butterflies in your stomach. God, you felt like a teenager again.

"Yes. I'll be your girlfriend." You hear him grunt, and you twist your face in thought. "What was that?"

"Oh, uh... I did a fist-bump."

You laugh, loud and joyful, and he laughs too.

"Alright, boyfriend. Tell me about your day."

"Ugh, it was boring. I found the proper candidate and offered them the job, but they haven't replied yet. They're going to say yes, but I hate having to wait to make everything official."

"I would hate to have your job."

"Thanks. That makes me feel so much better."

"I'm sorry!" you giggle. "I would just hate to be at the top of a company and have to make all these big decisions and being bored."

"Congratulations. You just summed up my whole job." You laugh again, and you imagine him smiling. "Tell me about your day."

"Ah, it was fine. I have tomorrow off which is nice. I'll sleep in and hang out at home and just relax." He hums.

"Can I take you out tomorrow?"

"Hmm, where you wanna take me?"

"Honestly?"

"Yes, honestly."

"I'd like to go with you to the gym." You furrow your brow.

"The gym? Why the gym? Are you trying to tell me to lose weight?"

"God, no. I like you the way you are. But I like the gym and I would like to spend time with you doing something I enjoy."

"Did you not enjoy dinner or the movie?"

"I did, I did. Please don't get the wrong idea. I just... the gym is a big part of my life and I want to enjoy it with someone I care about. It would be a lot more fun than going alone."

"Hm. I guess I can see where you're coming from. But I'm not going to the gym to 'lose weight'. I'm gonna go there to take care of my health. Got it?"

"Yes ma'am."

"Good. What time were you thinking?"

"Well, I usually go in the morning before work, but if you want to sleep in we can go a little later, since I also don't work tomorrow."

"Soooo what time?"

"What time do you want to go?" You hum.

"Maybe after ten. I'd like to sleep in until at least nine thirty."

"How about you wake up at ten and I pick you up at ten thirty?"

"Oh my god, that would be perfect."

"Good. Can I take you to lunch afterward?"

"I would like that."

"Where would you like to go?"

"Hmmm, I wanna go somewhere to get a sandwich. Do you know any good places?"

"I know just the place."

"Awesome. Sandwich city, here I come." He chuckles at that.

"Are you going to get ready for bed soon?"

"Oh, I'm already ready for bed. Just need to turn off the light and I'll go to sleep."

"Sounds nice. I need to finish unpacking and then I'll get ready for bed."

"Would you like me to let you go so you can unpack?"

"...Not really. I wish I could just talk to you forever."

"Talking to you this week has actually been really nice. You're fun to talk to."

"Thank you."

The line goes quiet before you yawn.

"Someone's sleepy."

"Can't help it! I'm all snuggled into bed."

"Hm, then I'll let you go. Then you can sleep and I'll pick you up in the morning."

"Okie dokie artichokie." He laughs.

"Alright. I'll see you tomorrow. Goodnight, Y/N."

"Goodnight, Guy."

You hang up the phone and plug it in, turning out the light and rolling over.

[leashybebes]

sentences sunday

tagged by @bidisasterevankinard

in which we smash forward eight years because i am incapable of writing in order

"Can I give you a ride home?"

"Nah, it's okay, I'll call a car."

"Tommy. C'mon. I still remember the address," Evan says, teasing.

"I moved," Tommy tells him.

"Yeah?" 

Tommy taps his cane against the table, doesn't mention the years in Sacramento. "Not a lot of call for a Muay Thai set up these days."

"What, uh. Can I ask what happened?"

"Wrecked the truck," Tommy says, because it's an easier shorthand than explaining everything that came after.

Evan winces. "Sorry, man. I know you loved that beast."

Tommy shrugs. "Could have been worse, believe it or not."

He sees Evan's mouth shape around the word what, knows he's going to ask for more detail, and feels a flare of relief when his phone rings. A reflexive smile tugs at his mouth when he sees the caller ID, and he shoots Evan an apologetic look as he answers. He doesn't even manage to get a word out before - 

"Heyyy, Uncle Tommy."

He knows that tone only too well. That's the my roommate's an asshole and I need to study tone. "Key's in the usual place. Let yourself in."

"Where are you?"

"Just getting coffee with an old friend," Tommy says, glancing over at where Evan is scrolling on his phone in the way people do when they want to seem like they're not listening. "I'll be home soon, we can order Thai."

"Awesome. I'll see you soon. Ciao, Zio."

"Ciao, Mostro."

He hangs up on the sound of Sera's laughter, unable to help smiling.

Evan looks at him curiously. "Boyfriend?"

"Nah. Sal's kid. She's at UCLA, although you wouldn't know it for how much time she spends eating me out of house and home."

Evan grins. "That's cute. You sure about that ride home?"

"I'm sure. It was good to see you, Buck. Evan. Captain."

Evan laughs, ducks his head. Tommy had almost forgotten that gesture, and it makes him feel warm and nostalgic and fond. "Evan's fine. Hey, can we do this again sometime?"

"I'd love that," Tommy says honestly. "I'm a boring nine to five guy now, so just let me know when you're free."

tagging below - as always, let me know if you want in/out

@typicalopposite @silversky9 @my-ari-fan-blog1 @setmeatopthepyre @theres-a-tvjoe

@de-lphic @teabroomsandbooks @nydoorin-lionett @all-the-feelss @yveieec

@faerietle @rosyhoneydew @kinardbuckleys @a-mel0n @bucktommyscones

@louorcastiel @mmso-notlikethat @hyperfocusthusly @sweet-jani @subduedpondering

@beckym2001

[tfp-is-my-lifeblood-lol]

Tfp Autobots Encountering the Mind-Control Cell Phones from Rescue Bots

(Because it canonically exists in the Alligned continuity, and I'm abusing that knowledge to torment my favorite little meow meows)

I've been wanting to write these headcanons. Might do Decepticons next.

Context for if you haven't seen the Rescue Bots episode "Spell Bound": A human named Madeline Pynch creates mind-control phones that hypnotize both humans and Cybertronians to dig up Blossom Vale (part of Griffin Rock)

Optimus Prime:

-He's the only one who's immune to the phones' power

-Lucky for him, the Matrix of Leadership can protect him from that kind of influence

-Because of that, he'd be the first to discover something isn't right with the humans, and eventually the other Bots when they'd start acting strange.

-He'd notice they're groundbridging to Griffin Rock with no explanation, and that they keep saying the phrase: "The project is the priority."

-Plus, their voices. Sure, they sound normal on the surface, but Optimus is very perceptive, and would pick up on the slight lack of emotion, and artificial tone when they speak.

-Throughout this mess, Optimus mainly confides in Ratchet

"What is going on?" Ratchet would muse, almost awestruck by the strange behavior of the others.

"I am unsure," Optimus would reply. "But I believe something is deeply amiss, old friend."

-Both of them would be struggling to uncover what this mysterious "project" is, and why the other Bots and humans have suddenly become so obsessed with it.

Arcee:

-She's the first Bot that falls under the spell; Jack's the first human to fall under, and he'd infect her

-Jack's responsible, empathetic personality works against him when he finds a golden cellphone abandoned at school.

"Someone must've lost this." He'd say. "I'd...better return it, right? I mean...I'd hate for someone to be freaking out, wondering where their phone is."

"I think they'll be fine without their phone for a couple of hours," Arcee would quip. "Come on, it's go-time. We've gotta get back to base."

-Then it rings

"I'd...better get that." Jack would say.

Arcee would playfully role her eyes and smile. "Alright. We'll go back after you've done your good deed for the day. But make it quick."

-Upon answering the call, Jack's whole body suddenly goes rigid. "The project is the priority."

"Uhh...Jack...?" Arcee would press, nervous about her partner's abrupt shift in demeanor.

-Arcee would vent to Bulkhead. "Something's seriously wrong with Jack," and beg Ratchet for help. "Ratchet, come on. He's gotta be...I don't know, sick, or something, right? He's not acting...human."

-But soon, Jack would attach a phone to her in vehicle mode, and she'd be sucked in as well.

-Arcee's mind control would be subtle. She's naturally stoic, after all. The others might mistake her drone-like behavior for her usual closed-off personality, even when Optimus asks her to go on a mission, and she flatly replies: "...Can't..." Perhaps she's just having a rough day thinking about her lost partners. But suspicions rise when she and Jack disappear to Griffin Rock.

-Even in trance, Arcee maintains her stealth and agility, making her a formidable opponent.

Bulkhead:

-He'd get infected by his human charge, just like Arcee.

-Miko is SUPER suspicious of Jack's strange, zombie-like behavior, so she tracks him down and calls him out on it. She'd assume it's the work of Decepticons.

"Yeah, ok, Jack. You think you can fool me. Come on, dude! You're acting like Megatron barbecued your brain! You're some kind of mind-controlled zombie! But, don't worry, Jack Rabbit! I'll find a way to fix you up. Otherwise, Bulk's gonna bash you into zombie smithereens!"

-Jack would probably have to battle Miko to get her to listen to the call, but eventually, she'd become hypnotized, too.

-Now THAT'S a HUGE red flag for Bulkhead, and, well, EVERYONE

-MIKO is acting stoic and speaking in a monotone? OUR MIKO?

-Oh, Primus, no.

"Miko," Bulkhead would say, holding Miko's electric guitar. "Don't'cha wanna play your favorite song?"

"No time..." The girl would say blankly, and Bulkhead would drop the guitar in pure shock.

-It won't be long before Bulkhead pulls Miko aside to ask what's going on.

"This will explain everything..." Miko drones, showing Bulk a strange golden cellphone.

"A...cellphone?" Bulkhead questions. "Where'd you get that?"

"Answer it."

-Poor Bulkhead is fooled. He takes the call, and now there's two Autobots down.

-Bulkhead's mind-controlled state would definitely raise a few eyebrows. At first, it'd seem like he's just deeply lost in thought, but when it's time to battle, and he suddenly has no interest in kicking some tailpipe, it's clear something's wrong.

-Luckily, he's still pretty clumsy.

Bumblebee:

-Now, Bumblebee's situation is interesting

-He doesn't get infected by Raf.

-Rather, he gets infected trying to save Raf from becoming infected when a hypnotized Jack and Miko try to assimilate him.

-Poor Raf would be like: "Bumblebee, no! You don't have to do this to save me! I need you!"

-Unfortunately, Jack and Miko break their promise to spare Raf in exchange for Bumblebee joining them, so now all the humans are under, and nearly every Bot.

-Bumblebee's mind-controlled state is similar to when Megatron possessed him, only slightly less dangerous (I mean, come on. That was Megatron. You can't get much more dangerous than that).

-Bumblebee's is also the most obvious (besides Miko, of course). Bumblebee's such a sweetheart, it's easy to tell he isn't himself. Plus, his buzzing sounds different under mind-control. It's lower, and duller.

-Even while hypnotized, Raf is the only human who understand's Bumblebee when he speaks, so the two work together, unlike the others. The phones numb all emotions, so Bulkhead and Miko, as well as Arcee and Jack seem to have forgotten they're partners. Bee and Raf mainly work together because it's practical.

Ratchet:

-Poor Ratchet's going through it😂

-It took a LOT of fighting, but he managed to scan the others with his medical scanner.

-Ratchet is the one who figures out the phones are emitting a hypnosis-inducing frequency. Optimus is grateful for his help.

-However, with everyone else hypnotized, Ratchet gets cornered, and hypnotized himself.

-Poor guy. He tried to help them.

-Mind-controlled Ratchet is pretty scary

-Keep in mind, victims of the Pynch Phones maintain their intelligence

-Ratchet becomes a precise, calculating machine. He's gonna FIND that gold, and, if you try to stop him, he'll get you out of his way however he deems fit.

BONUS: Aftermath/Optimus is goated:

-Optimus manages to save the others by crushing the phones. Who knows? Maybe he and Megatron even had to team up.

-The others are super guilty upon snapping out of it. Bee is like a confused puppy, Bulkhead is furious, and Arcee is horrified (Jack keeps having to assure her he's ok). Ratchet has, like, a hangover because his neural net is too old for this mind-control shit.

-Optimus makes sure everyone knows it wasn't their fault. He's such a kind dude.

-Madeline Pynch should probably run. Messing with the Rescue Bots is one thing, but THIS is Team Prime. Optimus may be a pacifist, but Pynch endangered human lives. That's a biiiiig no-no when it comes to Optimus. He probably won't hurt her, per se, but she's in for a world of karma, because the other Bots aren't so forgiving,

[al-of-the-stars]

Hellooooo i saw you Vassago one shot and i just love it!!!! I see that you really like writing about him and I'm starting to form a animation crush on him sooooo... I have a request!

Would you like to write a scenario where Vassago and the reader go out on a date? Like a "next chapter" from the your previous one in which they exchanged sinsegrams! We could see their messege dialogue and a date with them being cute! Also if you like to add, in the end of the date, the reader suggest they have ice cream and it's the first time Vassago tries one because of his warm nature and the fact that he never trusted Andrealphus to try one of HIS "products". FLUFF!

So that's the whole idea you i would love to see you write it. ONLY IF you want to. I love all of your work! Have a happy day!!!

Sugar-sweet Beginnings pt. 2: Stars and Sugar Highs

Par 1

A/n: I LOVED WRITING THIS!! This is the longest foc I've ever written and I'm super proud of it! I kinda wanna write a part 3 later on lot gonna lie, but anyway, tysm for the request and I hope you enjoy! :D

It was a calm night where no sounds could be heard but the wind rushing against the hellishly red leaves of trees. The darkness of your bedroom illuminated with the light of your phone screen showing a notification from Sinstagram. You pick it up and slightly squint from the bright light, giving yourself a bit to adjust to the attack on your tired eyes.

“You have 3 new messages from Vassago_goetia”

You unlock your phone and look at your chats

Vassago_goetia: Hello! This is Vassago, we talked at the gala last night.

Vassago_goetia: I was wondering if you're perhaps free tomorrow at 7 pm?

Vassago_goetia: If not, it's perfectly fine! There's this lovely park that looks the most beautiful at around that time if you would be interested in accompanying me. 

A soft smile found its way to your lips as you stared at the glowing device in your hand. You started typing a response, ignoring the quickening of your heartbeat and how hot your face suddenly started to feel in the usually cold air of your room.

You: I'd love to! That sounds super fun

Vassago_goetia: Perfect! I'll pick you up at 6:50?

You: that works for me

You: See u then!! :)

You held your phone to your chest “Wait, he ACTUALLY wants to see me?!” you thought to yourself. The wind from the open window blew your curtains revealing the celestial landscape of your side of hell, the same one that he might have been looking at right now. “Holy shit, I'm hopeless” The thought was too much to deal with and if you imagined him one more time, you might have just died right then and there. The stars and bright moon had also reminded you of something else important, the time, which happened to be far later than you should have stayed up to. You let out an involuntary yawn and sank down into the plush mattress and closed your eyes, wishing that tomorrow would arrive sooner. 

When the morning sun invaded your room, you awoke to an unusual feeling. You felt enthusiastic. The feeling hit you like a truck and left you feeling like a Disney character waking up at the start of their movie. You knew you liked the parrot demon but never could you have imagined that a simple date would have been this important to you. 

When the time came for you to begin getting ready, you began to feel more and more nervous. You tried pushing those thoughts away; after all, you had a bigger task at hand, make sure your date goes smoothly. You were interrupted by a knock on your door. You opened it to see the very same demon that had been haunting your mind. 

“Ah, hello, my dear!” He spoke with a smile on his face, “Are you ready to head off?” 

“I think so,” you feel your heart skip a beat as he offers his hand for you to take and places a soft kiss to your knuckles. 

“Might I add, you look absolutely breathtaking,” he says as he leads you away, hand in hand. 

The walk to your destination is peaceful with smalltalk and laughter. You try to steal the occasional glance in his direction, but little do you know that he's doing the same thing. Time flew and you arrived at the park, which was far more crowded than anyone would have guessed. You took a seat on a blanket in a more secluded section of the park. Conversation just felt so natural with Vassago. As time passed, you lay on the blanket, staring up at the stars.

“They're lovely, aren't they?”

“Truly beautiful,” he said, looking at you with love in his eyes as he watched you admire the night sky. This moment was perfect. The love you felt was so strong you were sure Cupid himself could feel it from all the way up in heaven. The mood became more energetic as you saw an ice cream stand with bright blue lights. Vassago noticed your interest in the stand and looked at it nervously.

“Can we get some ice cream?” You ask him with sparkles in your eyes, one that he could never bring himself to say no to.

“I'm not sure, one of the other goetia are in charge of ice and cold in hell and.. how do I say this in a way that isn't mean… he's a bit of a…”

“A bitch?” You finish his sentence and he hesitantly nods. 

“I don't exactly trust him,”

“Oh come on, please?” You try to convince him. He simply sighs and leads you to the ice cream stand. You order excitedly like a kid in a candy shop and he can't help but think that smile is worth it. You happily eat your ice cream on the way back to your house. Vassago hesitantly tastes the one he got, strawberry mango. To his surprise, he actually quite enjoyed it. The time got later and you failed to realize how tired you were because of how much foun you were having until you bid your farewells and flopped into your bed. However, all your sleepiness  washed away as you got yet another notification.

Vassago_goetia: I had a lot of fun tonight, if you would be up for it, would you perhaps be interested in going on another date sometime?

[iamacebookworm]

An idea I've had:

Interactive Ficlets!

How it will work:

I write a mini story. A ficlet, shall we say. A little baby fic! 😊 So cute, it hasn't grown up yet. And then YOU, through poll, decide what happens next, and I write it.

Let's get started!

"Hey House," Wilson greets, swinging into the glass wallet office. "A new place around the corner from me just opened," he says, flopping into the chair behind House’s office. "Ya wanna go tonight?"

House, lounging behind his desk as usual, his feet on his desk, hisses through his teeth, "I'm gonna have to raincheck there Wilson. I promised 13 that I'd hit up a bi bar with her tonight. She's determined to fine me a, quote, 'delicious man dish'," House puts air quotes around this and rolls his eyes.

Wilson, meanwhile, blinks in surprise, "del...House, you're not into men!"

House looks genuinely baffled as his head cocks backwards in surprise, like Wilson has stunned him with his ignorance, "yes I am."

"Nooo, you're not," Wilson insists. Looking annoyed, House maneuvers his bad leg down off the desk. With both feet now on the floor, House reaches into his jeans pocket and hoists his phone out of his pocket. Aggressively, he begins swiping through it. "What are you looking for?" Wilson frowns, baffled.

"Shush!" House orders, rather sharply, and Wilson decides to shut up. For about two minutes, House, nibbling the inside of his mouth, keeps flicking through the phone angrily until he cries, "ah ha!" Smugly, he turns the phone to show Wilson, who stares, gobsmacked, at the image in front of him.

It's House, at his medical school graduation. He's fresh faced and apple cheeked, so breathlessly young, but still perfectly recognisable. He's beaming ear to ear, wearing his cap and gown, holding his rolled up degree high above his head with one hand.

And has his other arm is wrapped around another cap-and-gown wearing graduate. A male graduate, pressed against young House, kissing his cheek and looking elated. House swipes on the picture and another appears; this time, young House and the other male graduate are full-on kissing and hugging. "That," House says smugly. "Is my medical school boyfriend."

Now for the poll! 😁

Have an idea of your own? Add it in a comment. If your comment gets lots of "👆" (indicating an up vote) replies, I'll do that instead.

Let's have fun with this! 😊

[kangshxrtie]

Thirteen | Kim Chaewon

"I want you to be ruined, I won't hold you You were my yesterday" - 한(一) (HANN (Alone)) by (G)I-DLE

y/n y/l/n are we still hanging out tdy?

huh yunjin (01) omg baby i hv to finish sum writing w chaewon

y/n y/l/n ofc u do that's fine. i'll js find sum else to do then

huh yunjin (01) don't be mad i'll make it up to u i swear

y/n y/l/n k.

you sat on a bench outside the library, mindlessly scrolling through your phone, trying to ignore the bitter feeling bubbling in your chest. this wasn't new. yunjin blowing you off at the last minute? normal. yunjin blowing you off for chaewon? even more normal.

you took a deep breath, telling yourself you didn't care. you already knew the truth. you weren't mad—you were just over it.

just as you were about to put your phone away, the sound of approaching footsteps made you look up. and, of course, it had to be her.

kim chaewon.

"oh, hey y/n," she greeted, her tone light, but her eyes sharp as she slid onto the bench beside you, uninvited.

you didn't respond, just locked your phone and slipped it into your pocket.

she tilted her head, a small smirk forming on her lips. "didn't know you had classes in this building."

"i don't," you replied flatly. "just needed a place to sit before meeting up with someone."

"oh? who?" she asked, feigning curiosity.

"not important. i was just about to leave, though," you said, shifting as if to stand.

chaewon hummed, clearly unbothered. "well, i was just about to meet up with yunjin... for the project, of course."

you almost rolled your eyes. she knows.

"oh, that's nice," you replied, voice carefully even.

"yeah, just some finishing touches left, but we're pretty much done."

you glanced at her. "okay? have fun, then."

"i'll let her know i saw you out here," chaewon smiled.

you leaned back slightly, a smirk of your own forming. "oh, and while you're at it, let her know i'm about to meet up with nien. we've still got a bit to work on too."

something flickered across chaewon's face, but she recovered quickly. "i'll do that," she said smoothly.

before you could respond, her phone buzzed. she glanced at the screen, and just like that, her smirk deepened. you didn't need to ask who it was.

"well, i gotta go," she said, standing up and stretching. then, with one last look at you, she added, "just make sure you and nien stay focused on the project, like me and yunjin are."

you watched as she walked away, leaving you alone. once this is over, they'd regret ever thinking you were stupid.

you sat there for a few moments, still processing the interaction, disbelief settling in like a heavy weight on your chest. did that really just happen?

before you could spiral any further, your phone buzzed.

seoyeon 🐶u wanna hang out with me and dahyun?

perfect timing. you needed a distraction after whatever chaewon just did to you.

without hesitation, you grabbed your things and headed to meet them. the second you walked in and spotted them at the table, you wasted no time sitting down.

"god, i fucking hate chaewon," you grumbled, slamming your phone down on the table.

seoyeon and dahyun, who had just walked in, exchanged confused looks before seoyeon asked, "what did chaewon do?"

"she's just a fucking bitch, and i wouldn't usually say that about another woman, but she pisses me off so much," you huffed, crossing your arms.

"i know she's a little goofy, but i wouldn't go as far as to call her a bitch," seoyeon said, raising an eyebrow.

"oh, trust me, she is," you insisted.

dahyun tilted her head. "what did she do to make you feel this way?"

"i can't get into it right now, but let's just not associate with her."

seoyeon hesitated before sighing. "look, i'd love to support you on this if you're serious, but i don't know if we can just cut chaewon off, considering our circumstances."

you blinked, finally realizing they thought you were talking about the chaewon in your friend grou, also one of their roommates.

"no, not our chaewon," you clarified quickly. "i hate kim chaewon."

their confusion only deepened; you forgot they even had the same surname.

"as in our senior chaewon, the one in my videography group," you added. "not the strawberry farmer y'all live with," you finished hoping that cleared everything up.

"the chaewon in my videography group," you added. "not strawberry farmer chaewon."

both of them exhaled in relief, "oh, thank god. i thought our whole friend group was over," dahyun muttered, placing a hand over her heart.

"be more specific next time," seoyeon scolded.

"it's not my fault they have the exact same name," you argued, throwing your hands up.

"that is true," dahyun leaned back in her chair.

"anyways, how have y'all's day been?" you finally asked, deciding to shift the focus away from yourself for now.

"i did nothing today, so it's been pretty nice," dahyun told you.

"i mean, i had work early this morning and a class, but it wasn't terrible," seoyeon added with a shrug.

you nodded, absentmindedly spinning your phone on the table. "sounds like a solid day."

"i see yours hasn't been great, though. would you like to share with the class?" dahyun pressed, raising an eyebrow.

you exhaled, shaking your head. "not really, but give me a couple of days, and i'll tell you everything."

dahyun scoffed. "you're hyping this up so much. i need to know what your drama is."

"oh, trust," you smirked, leaning in slightly. "it won't disappoint."

seoyeon and dahyun exchanged looks before dahyun sighed dramatically. "fine, i'll wait. but if it's not the messiest shit i've ever heard, i'm gonna be so mad."

seoyeon chuckled. "we'll hold you to that."

you simply smiled to yourself, knowing that when the time came, they'd have a lot to say.

huh yunjin (01) are u done being mad? can we talk now

don't ignore me yk that annoys me

y/n y/l/n i wasn't. i was busy hanging out with seoyeon & dahyun

huh yunjin (01) are u mad at me?

y/n y/l/n no. why would i be?

huh yunjin (01) cause ur using periods

y/n y/l/n a period ends a sentence.

huh yunjin (01) see?? that's exactly what i'm talking about

y/n y/l/n what are you talking about?

huh yunjin (01) you're being dry u never text like this

y/n y/l/n i'm literally just texting normally.

huh yunjin (01) no ur not u mad fr, aren't u?

y/n y/l/n i told u i'm not mad.

huh yunjin (01) then why does it feel like u are? 😭 did i do something?

y/n y/l/n yunjin. i'm not mad.

huh yunjin (01) then prove it. let's call

y/n y/l/n i'm literally walking home huh yunjin (01) and? ur phone still works js call me for like 5 secs pls

y/n y/l/n fine. one sec.

huh yunjin (01) that's my baby

"hello?" you answered when yunjin picked up.

"wow, you actually called. i honestly thought you were just gonna leave me hanging," she teased.

you exhaled slowly, already regretting this. "you were being annoying, so i figured i'd call before you flooded my phone with even more texts."

yunjin laughed, light and carefree, like nothing was wrong. "see? you do sound mad."

you stared at the wall, biting your tongue. "oh my god, i'm not mad."

"mhmm... sounds like something a mad person would say," she said in that playful tone she always used.

"yunjin."

"okay, okay, i'll stop. but for real, are you sure you're good?" she asked, her voice softening.

good? never. you wanted to say instead, you forced out a casual, "i was just busy. seoyeon and dahyun wanted to hang out, and i didn't want to be glued to my phone the whole time."

yunjin gasped dramatically. "you mean to tell me i'm not your top priority at all times?"

"unfortunately, no." you kept your voice light, even though your grip on the phone tightened. "but don't worry, you'll live."

"ugh, barely. my heart shattered a little, but i'll survive," she sighed dramatically.

you let out a small chuckle. "you're so dramatic."

"see, this is why i was blowing up your phone," she said, her voice soft and warm. "i miss you."

"i miss you too," you murmured, the words feeling hollow as they left your lips.

"you do? say it again," she grinned through the phone.

you swallowed down the bitterness rising in your throat. "no."

yunjin whined. "okay, okay, i'll let you go... but don't you dare ignore me like that again. or i'll show up at your place unannounced."

"sounds like a threat," you said with a small laugh.

"it is a threat. love you though," she said, and it almost sounded real. almost.

"love you too," you replied, even though you weren't sure if you meant it anymore.

"awwww wait, say it one more time!" yunjin giggled.

you didn't even bother responding this time. you just ended the call.

huh yunjin (01) Y/N HELLO WHY DID U HANG UP COME BACK

y/n y/l/n busy. talk l8r

huh yunjin (01) oh ok hmu when ur free

Masterlist ــــــﮩ٨ـ Next

[youcouldmakealife]

Do you ever mix up names? I love your stories, but I am shit at names and as your pantheon/league grows I find myself increasingly turned around by all the north american dude names (first, last, AND hockey nicknames!!!). I can usually keep track of the on-going series names and names that are less common in North America (Kiro, Sven), but if I'm reading, say, an ask or rereading I usually have remind myself who is who first.

I don't mix them up between themselves and other characters in either a similar name way (James vs Jake, say) or roles (mixing up say, Wheels and Craney and Matty).

(This got so long and off topic, why does this always happen)

What I do mix up is sort of more of a...muscle memory thing, maybe? I'm writing the word, say, gorgeous, and I have to delete georgieous first, because my fingers apparently have become a phone's autocorrect function. I actually did write James as Jake a few times when I was deep deep in editing BTT, but again, it was just sort of like...an autofill error between my brain and my fingers.

The names themselves I'm pretty good with, though I do worry about whether I'll continue to be as a) the pantheon continues to expand (I love this by the way, and now I'm probably going to spend the rest of my evening mentally assigning characters places in the pantheon) and b) I get older. And both things seem pretty inevitable to me.

Unfortunately, the two things I appear to have in common with Leo Tolstoy are brevity and 'these people have three names, and I'm going to use them all interchangeably'. (ie Vinny is Thomas to himself, but Vinny to literally everybody else including me. And sometimes Tommy but only to Anton and his parents and only sometimes. Anton's alternately Anton, Petrov, Tony to Vinny and teammates, or Antosha to his family.)

I'd honestly apologise for it but it's one of those things that's really inextricable from the sort of...falling into a perspective way that I write, the same way I write in American English for American characters and Canadian English for Canadians, or use Christian (and specifically Catholic) references in Robbie or Georgie's POVs but never, say, Mike's or David's, unless we count Mike's very liberal usage of the word goddamn (and it's lowercase with him, but it'd be Goddamn to Robbie.)

And the different vocabularies extends to names. Like William Dineen is William to Robbie, he specifically asked to be called that when he was a teenager who wanted to feel more adult, and Robbie respected that then and continues to now. Georgie respected it in another way -- he was Willy to him, and now he uses Will, which William is fine with, but only with immediate family.

But in the text itself Georgie would never use William, because it'd feel distant to him, and Robbie would never use Will because he'd consider that disrespectful after William specifically requested to be called that, and me choosing one or the other wouldn't be in character, so he's Will and he's William, but never Willy (that's Tate Williams).

I make this all sound like a much more conscious process than it is. A lot of this stuff I've only figured out via metacognition of my writing process, which is, by necessity, done in hindsight.

My original answer to questions like 'why did you do _____ that way?' is invariably '*shrug* felt right', and people tend to find that...unsatisfying, so I often investigate further, and the answer becomes 'felt right because of <this reason I was in no way consciously aware of during the writing process>'. As I've said to my poor beleaguered editor, a lot of my writing process is 'just vibes'. I follow good vibes. Bad vibes tell me something's not working, and I adjust accordingly. I think a lot (I cannot tell you how many times I've been accused of overthinking things), but when it comes to writing, most of it's happening beyond my own perception, so instead it feels more like gut instinct. (which is, indeed, what gut instinct often boils down to: pattern recognition going on beneath one's conscious awareness)

[helsgcddess]

— VEILED SPARKS; iii

READ ON AO3 || PINTEREST BOARD (in the works)

summary: "You should be more careful about what you draw, Toria." In which an artist with a knack for seeing things she shouldn't meets a suspiciously perfect stranger with glowing blue eyes and a possessive yellow Camaro. Set during ROTF.

pairing: bumblebee/original character

word count: 3.1k

a/n— y'all.... the way this chapter wrote itself?? like one minute i was like "lets write toria being high and gay panicking about brooks" and suddenly it's 4am and i have 3k words of her being a disaster??? also yes, jayde ( @morbid-personality ) is absolutely going to be the "what if he's a robot tho" friend and honestly? we love her for it. also also, bumblebee needs to chill with the stalking but like... he won't bc he's Like That (chapter 4 might come sooner than expected bc these two won't leave me alone send help)

warnings — weed use, anxiety/mental health stuff, vague mission city references, highly questionable coping mechanisms

I slapped at my phone when the alarm blared. "Shut up, shut up, yeah, I got it!" I groaned as I finally hit the snooze button. The sunlight streaming through my window illuminated the sketches I'd stayed up way too late working on—pages and pages of impossible blue eyes and edges that didn't quite match reality.

Why had I decided to wake up at 9 am?

My brain slowly pieced together yesterday's events as I stumbled out of bed: broken down Chevelle, suspiciously perfect stranger, weird fog-shrouded maybe-stalking, and—

I froze, hand halfway to the shower knob. My car—my dad's car—was supposedly somewhere "safe." According to the cryptic text from an unknown number who apparently had opinions about my sketching habits.

Oh fuck. I was going to have to deal with that after therapy. And somehow not tell my therapist about the return of my post-Mission City paranoia, now with bonus government-adjacent stalkers and cars that moved like they were alive.

I groaned but stepped into the shower, letting the water blast away some of my racing thoughts. After two washes of my hair, I let the conditioner sit while I contemplated how exactly one explains "I think my dad's military projects are haunting me via an impossibly attractive maybe-human" without getting committed.

"Okay, Toria. It's just therapy. You'll do fine," I whispered to myself as I rinsed my hair out and stepped out of the shower. "Just don't tell her anything about him or the car or—" I caught my reflection's eye. "Wait, how are we even getting to therapy?"

I called my best friend after brushing my teeth. She answered on the first ring. "What's up, bitch?" She coughed into the phone. "Sorry, just did a dab."

"You good if I steal your car to take to therapy? I'll pay you in cannoli," I offered as I checked the weather. I grabbed shorts from my clean laundry basket, along with a black sports bra and a Hawaiian button-up that had definitely been Dad's at some point.

"Only if I can smoke you up after therapy," Jayde replied. "You sound like you need it. Something weird happen at the café again?"

"You could say that." I tucked my sketchbook into my bag, deliberately not looking at last night's drawings. "Deal. Be there in 20."

"Love you," then she hung up.

I laced my steel toes, grabbed my smokes off the counter, and headed into the California heat. My thumb ring caught the sunlight as I twisted it—a nervous habit that had gotten worse since mysterious hot strangers started texting me about my art.

I took the long way to Jayde's place, walking by the pier to get slapped in the face by the smell of salt and ocean. Every yellow car I passed made my heart skip, but none of them were that impossibly pristine Camaro. Not that I was looking.

I paused at the coffee shop by her place, picking up our usual: Red Bull infusions with pomegranate and blueberry syrup, topped with half and half. The caffeine-sugar bomb we'd perfected during our brief stint as art school roommates before... everything.

It wasn't until I lit my cigarette, trying to calm my pre-therapy jitters, that my phone vibrated.

Unknown Number: Your car will be parked at your apartment in time for your shift.

I dropped my lighter in the ocean. "No, fuck! Ugh." I groaned, watching my last lighter disappear into the waves. Perfect. Because this day needed to get more complicated.

My phone buzzed again.

Unknown Number: Also, the alternator wasn't the only thing that needed fixing. You're welcome.

"Oh, that's not ominous at all," I muttered, taking a long drag of my cigarette. "Totally normal to have a suspiciously perfect stranger doing unauthorized repairs on your dead dad's car."

A yellow Volkswagen Beetle drove past, and I nearly choked on smoke before realizing it wasn't the same shade of yellow. Wrong car, wrong driver, wrong... everything.

I threw my half-finished cigarette back into my pack and headed up the creaky steps to Jayde's apartment. The whole building smelled like weed and beach air—pretty much Jayde's signature scent since high school.

She opened the door before I could knock, practically bouncing despite being high. "There's my favorite disaster! One slightly beat-up Civic at your service." She grabbed her drink and took a long sip. "Now spill. What happened to your car? The Chevelle's like, your baby."

"Alternator died," I said, following her into her mess of an apartment. Art supplies competed with bong collections for surface space, and her walls were covered in our collaborative pieces from school. "Some guy helped me out."

"Some guy?" Her eyebrows shot up. "Like, a cute guy? A mysterious guy? A—"

"A guy who apparently knows how to fix cars and sends cryptic texts," I cut her off, pulling out my phone. "Look."

Jayde read the messages, her eyes widening. "Okay, that's either really sweet or really serial killer-y. There's no in-between." She paused. "Is he hot though?"

I thought about impossible blue eyes and too-perfect movements. "That's... complicated."

"Oh my god, he is." She grinned. "You're doing that thing where you want to draw someone but can't quite get them right. Show me your sketches."

"Absolutely not." I snatched her car keys from their hook. "I'm already late for therapy."

"Fine, keep your mysterious hot car guy secrets!" she called after me. "But we're totally talking about this when you get back!"

I slid into Jayde's Civic, immediately assaulted by the smell of weed and her vanilla air freshener. At least it wasn't as pristine as... certain other cars I'd been in recently.

The radio crackled to life when I turned the key—some pop station Jayde always left it on. Not classic rock, not engine purrs that sounded like speech. Just normal car stuff. Totally fine.

"Get it together, Toria," I muttered, pulling onto the street. "You've got exactly forty-five minutes to figure out how to talk about your week without mentioning glowing eyes or mysteriously repaired cars."

My phone buzzed in the cup holder. I definitely didn't swerve checking to see if it was another cryptic text.

Just Mom: Don't forget to ask about upping your anxiety meds!!!

I snorted. Yeah, because that conversation would go great. 'Hey doc, I think I need stronger meds because I keep seeing weird lights like in Mission City, and a suspiciously perfect stranger knows things about Dad's car, and I can't stop drawing his impossibly symmetrical face.'

The traffic light turned yellow—just yellow, not that specific shade that kept haunting me—and I tried to focus on normal therapy topics. Work stress? Safe. Mom's hovering? Classic. The fact that I hadn't touched my college applications since Dad died? Definitely therapist-approved discussion material.

Strange men who moved like machinery and knew things about classified military projects? Maybe save that for next session.

The parking lot of Dr. Clarke's office looked exactly like it always did: half-full with sensible cars belonging to people with probably sensible problems. Not a yellow Camaro in sight. Not that I was checking.

I grabbed my sketchbook out of habit—Dr. Clarke encouraged "artistic expression during sessions" or whatever—then immediately shoved it back in my bag. Yeah, maybe not today's sketches.

The waiting room was its usual study in beige calm, complete with generic watercolor paintings and magazines from three years ago. The receptionist, Amy, gave me her usual sympathetic smile. Everyone here still had that same look since Mission City, like they were waiting for me to crack.

"Dr. Clarke's running a few minutes behind," she said. "But she'll be right with you."

I slumped into my usual chair, twisting my ring and definitely not thinking about how Brooks had known things about Dad. About the base. About—

"Toria?" Dr. Clarke appeared in her doorway, clipboard in hand and reading glasses perched on her nose. "Ready to come in?"

Her office was familiar at least—walls lined with psychology degrees and children's artwork, the leather couch that had witnessed two years of my post-Mission City processing, the view of the bay that was supposed to be calming or whatever.

"So," she said as I settled into my usual spot, "how has your week been?"

I opened my mouth, closed it, then laughed. "That's... kind of complicated."

"Complicated how?" Dr. Clarke asked, settling into her chair with that perfect therapist posture. She probably didn't have to worry about mysterious men fixing her car or sending cryptic texts.

"Well," I started, focusing on the safe parts, "the café's been busy. Mom's stress-baking again. And my car broke down, which is... yeah."

"The Chevelle?" Her pen paused over her notepad. "Your father's car?"

I twisted my ring. "Yeah. Alternator issues."

"And how did that make you feel?" Classic Dr. Clarke, always with the feelings.

"Honestly?" I stared out at the bay, watching fog roll in. "It felt like losing him all over again. Like—" I stopped, remembering Brooks' words about the car attracting attention. About Dad's classified work.

"Like what, Toria?"

"Like maybe some things should stay broken." The words came out before I could stop them.

Dr. Clarke's eyebrows rose slightly. "That's an interesting perspective. What makes you say that?"

I thought about the text messages burning a hole in my phone. About the way Brooks had looked at me like he knew things—about Dad, about Mission City, about everything.

"Sometimes I think..." I chose my words carefully, "Maybe Dad was trying to protect me from something. With all those classified projects he never talked about."

Dr. Clarke shifted in her chair, a subtle movement that meant we'd hit Something Important. "Your paranoia about Mission City—has it been getting worse?"

I focused on a particularly boring watercolor on her wall. "Not... exactly." Lie. "It's just—" I twisted my ring again. "The whispers are back."

That got her full attention. The whispers had been my first symptom after Mission City—constant theories about what I'd seen, about Dad's work, about the lights and sounds that didn't make sense.

"The same whispers as before?"

"Different," I said carefully. "Less about what happened then, more about..." I thought about Brooks' impossible movements, about engines that sounded alive, about texts that knew too much. "More about what might still be happening."

"Can you elaborate?”

"You'll think I'm crazy." I laughed, but it came out shaky.

"Toria," her voice went gentle, "we've talked about this. Your reactions to trauma—"

"It's not trauma this time," I interrupted, then winced. "I mean, yeah, obviously there's trauma, but this is..." I gestured vaguely. "This feels real."

The clock on her wall ticked loudly, reminding me we were almost out of time. Thank god.

"Have you been taking your medications regularly?"

I resisted the urge to roll my eyes. "Yes. And before you ask, I'm sleeping. Eating. Working. Being a functional human despite my various mental health issues." I stood up, gathering my bag. "The whispers are probably nothing. Just stress about the car."

Dr. Clarke gave me that look—the one that said she didn't believe me but couldn't prove it. "Same time next week?"

"Yeah," I said, already halfway to the door. "Assuming mysterious car trouble doesn't get in the way."

I took the coastal route back to Jayde's, windows down and music up—trying to drown out both Dr. Clarke's concerned voice and my own paranoid whispers. The salt air helped, even if every flash of yellow in my peripheral vision made my heart jump.

Until one of those flashes wasn't just my imagination.

The yellow Camaro was parked at the pier, looking impossibly pristine against the backdrop of tourist shops and street vendors. No Brooks in sight, but something about the way the car was angled—like it was watching the road—made me grip Jayde's steering wheel tighter.

"Nope," I said out loud, definitely not looking at how the sunlight hit the black racing stripes. "We are not doing this. We are going to smoke with our best friend and not think about hot guys with government secrets or their stalker cars."

I pulled into Jayde's parking lot, killing the engine just as my phone buzzed.

Unknown Number: Your artistic talent is impressive.

Unknown Number: But maybe focus on drawing something less classified.

I stared at my bag, where my sketchbook was definitely closed and definitely hidden.

"How the fuck—" I started to mutter, when another text came through.

Unknown Number: The Chevelle's waiting at your apartment. Try not to break it again.

I practically ran up Jayde's stairs, bursting into her apartment where she was already setting up her favorite bong—the one we'd painted with glow-in-the-dark stars during finals week.

"Here," Jayde said, passing me the bong and her favorite drawing pencils—the ones we'd stolen from art school before I dropped out. "Smoke this and draw something that isn't government-spy-boyfriend for five minutes."

I took another hit, letting my hand move across a blank page without thinking. Somehow it still turned into those impossible blue eyes.

"I can't stop drawing him," I groaned, flopping back against her couch. "Like, my brain is just... full of him? His stupid perfect face and the way he moves like... like he's never quite figured out how bodies are supposed to work but somehow it's still hot?"

Jayde snorted, taking the bong back. "You're so high right now."

"No but listen," I sat up too fast, sending colored pencils scattering. "He shows up in this ridiculous car that probably costs more than my entire life, looking like some government catalog's idea of the perfect human, and then he just... knows things? About Dad? About my car? And sends these cryptic texts like he's watching me but somehow it's not creepy? Okay it's a little creepy but—" I paused for another hit, "—okay but he's so fucking hot though."

"There it is!" Jayde cackled. "I was wondering when we'd get to the thirsty part of this crisis."

I grabbed a handful of Jayde's Doritos, still sketching with my free hand. "It's not fair. Like, who told him he could look like that? While also being all mysterious and probably dangerous and definitely involved in whatever classified shit got Dad killed and—" I stared at my newest sketch. "Oh my god, I'm drawing him again."

"Girl, you've got it bad," Jayde laughed, taking the sketchbook. "Damn though, if this is accurate..." She tilted her head at the drawing. "Wait, are his eyes actually this blue? That's not natural."

"Nothing about him is natural," I mumbled around a mouthful of chips. "He's like... too perfect? Like someone tried to design the hottest possible person but forgot humans are supposed to have flaws."

"Maybe he's an android," Jayde suggested, reaching for the bong again. "Like, a really hot android sent to protect you because of your dad's secret government work."

I started laughing and couldn't stop. "Oh my god, what is my life? I'm sitting here, high as fuck, crushing on some maybe-not-human guy who keeps fixing my car and judging my art choices."

"Speaking of your car," Jayde checked her phone, "don't you have a shift at four?"

"Shit," I sat up, the world spinning slightly. "Mom's gonna kill me if I show up high again."

"Drink water first," Jayde said, tossing me a bottle. "And take these." She handed me her emergency sunglasses—the ones we'd decorated with little stars during our last art school all-nighter. "You look absolutely blasted."

"Love you," I mumbled, gathering my stuff and trying not to forget anything important. Like my dignity. Or my ability to walk straight.

"Text me if hot government boy shows up at the café!" Jayde called after me. "I want to know if his face is really that symmetrical in daylight!"

I was halfway down her stairs when my phone buzzed.

Unknown Number: The walk from Powell Street to your apartment has fewer surveillance cameras. Take that route.

Unknown Number: And maybe wear sunglasses. You look... relaxed.

"Oh my god," I whispered to my phone, torn between mortified and impressed. "Are you actually stalking me or just really committed to this mysterious protector aesthetic?"

Another buzz.

Unknown Number: Both. Be safe, Toria.

"Fuck," I muttered, shoving on Jayde's sunglasses and heading toward Powell Street like a good, obedient disaster. "He's so hot when he's being creepy."

I took the suggested route home, only slightly paranoid about every yellow car I saw (which, being high, was probably more than actually existed). The sunglasses helped with both the sun and my dignity, even if I kept wanting to sketch the way light bounced off passing windshields.

My apartment was exactly how I'd left it—organized chaos of art supplies and half-empty coffee cups. But there, visible from my window, sat the Chevelle. Looking... better? The paint seemed shinier, and something about it felt more alive.

"Nope," I told my reflection as I changed into my work clothes. "That's the weed talking. Cars don't look 'more alive.' Get it together."

I threw my hair up in a messy bun, switched to my café-approved black t-shirt, and tried to look less like I'd just spent the afternoon getting supremely baked while drawing a suspiciously perfect stranger.

My phone buzzed again as I was applying eye drops.

Unknown Number: Your mother's making that fusion dessert again. Might want to hurry.

"Okay, that's just showing off now," I muttered, but grabbed my bag faster. Mom's culinary experiments were legendary for all the wrong reasons, and I really didn't need to add 'death by experimental tiramisu' to my growing list of concerns.

I hesitated at my door, staring at my sketchbook. After a moment's debate, I shoved it in my bag. Something told me today's shift wasn't going to be boring.

The walk to the café felt different somehow—maybe because I was still slightly high, or maybe because I kept catching glimpses of yellow in my peripheral vision. But this time, instead of anxiety, each flash just made me want to reach for my sketchbook.

Mom was indeed in the kitchen when I arrived, surrounded by what looked like an unholy union of cannoli and mochi. I quietly rescued the latest batch before it could become a health code violation.

"Oh, tesoro!" She brightened when she saw me. "Did you see? The Chevelle's fixed! Such nice work too—almost like new! Did you find a mechanic? How much do we owe—"

"Let's not worry about that right now," I cut her off, tying my apron and definitely not thinking about mysterious car repairs. "Friday night rush is starting."

I made it through the first hour of my shift almost normally. Almost. Right up until I glanced out the window and saw a yellow Camaro parked across the street, its engine humming just loud enough for me to hear through the dinner rush chaos.

My phone buzzed one last time.

Unknown Number: You look better when you smile.

Unknown Number: Even if it's because you're still slightly high.

"Well," I muttered, tucking my phone away and fighting back a grin, "this should be an interesting shift."

[leegemma]

heeeloo!! thank you for such wonderful work, it's just so good, i love ittt.

if you don't mind, i'd like to suggest one idea, but you don't have to write it or do it exactly, maybe i can inspire you hehe :))

let's say it will be a continuation of the story of minho and han (because you write about them is just wonderful, these are my favorite works!!). so, jisung can't sleep and comes to minho. he tries to ask for soft tickles to relax, but for some reason he worries more than usual just because of them. I love soft tickling so it's just>>>> thank you for your time! love you❤️‍🩹

Hiiii! Thank you for your sweet compliments and for your request! Took me a while but I'm finally getting back into writing (I think 🤭) hope you like it!!!

💓This fic is part 5 of 'a day off'💓

Enjoy:)

-------------------------------------------------------

It was passed midnight and Han jisung couldn't fall asleep. Now don't get me wrong, in the stray kids dorm nearly anyone was ever asleep, but they had just got off a flight and were all exhausted.

As soon as they got home each boy went to his own room and fell asleep within seconds.

But unlike them, Han has tried and tried and tried to fall asleep for what felt like ages but for some reason he just couldn't.

Han tried to think what could help him fall asleep peacefully, and just as he was strating to get frustrated with himself it came to him.

He needed Lee know's tickles.

And so with the perfect solution in mind, Han stood up and walked to Lee know's room, standing outside his door with surprise as he noticed Lee know's lights were still on.

Han knocked on the door twice and then opened it, stepping inside and closing it after him. "Hyung?"

Han turned to see Lee know smiling at him softly, putting his phone down. "Hm?"

"Why are you still awake?" Han approached Lee know's bed.

"I could ask you the same thing." The older chuckled as han sat on his bed. "Do you need anything?"

Han turned slightly red, which immediately was like a signal to Lee know, telling him exactly what han wants.

The older smirked. "Really Han? Even this late at night?"

"I can't control it!" Han cried. "And I just think... I just think it might help me fall asleep."

Lee know's smirk softened. "Fine... how do you want them?"

Han beamed and went to lay down on his back across Lee know's bed. "Soft please..."

Lee know cooed. "Sure thing... you'll have to keep your arms up though, okay?"

Han hesitated and then shyly nodded. "I'll try."

The bunny smiled. "Good enough for me, go ahead and lift them when you're ready."

Almost immediately, Han raised his arms above his head and rested them on the pillow behind him. "I'm ready..."

Lee know smiled and raised Han's shirt to expose his tummy, starting to slowly scratch all over it.

Han started giggling and twitching, having the time of his life and already feeling more calm.

Lee know went on to softly wiggle his fingers on Han's sides, smiling along with the laughing boy.

"I- I like thihis" Han said mid laughing.

Lee know chuckled. "I know you do..." he then slowly walked his fingers up all the way from Jisung's sides to his armpits, causing the boy to Almost put his arms down. "Keep them up, yeah?"

Han nodded with a giggle, trying to scrunch his shoulders up when Lee know slowly went into his neck.

Lee know kept up with the soft tickling until Han finally yawned with a laugh. "I think I'm sleepy now..."

Lee know smiled and couldn't help but squeeze the younger's cheeks out of affection. "You're so cute."

Han blushed. "Thank you for doing this, Hyung..."

"Anytime, Hannie. Anytime."

"Can i- can I maybe stay here tonight? I'm just scared I won't be sleepy anymore of I get up to go to my own bed." Han stuttered slightly.

Minho rolled his eyes playfully. "You can just say you want to sleep here with me, no need to make excuses."

Now it was Han's turn to roll his eyes as he joined lee know under the blanket. . "You love yourself too much."

"Not as much as you love me." Lee know teased, turning off the light in the room.

Han couldn't help but laugh. "Goodnight Lee know hyung."

"Good night Han, sleep well."

[obsoleteozymandias]

hello!! i'd like to request a twisted wonderland matchup if ur still doing them! if not that's totally cool :) feel free to ignore this!!

here's my info!!

i use any pronouns and i'm aroace irl, but i still like fictional characters LOL. my mbti is intp, and my "big three" zodiacs are pisces sun, aries moon, and sagittarius rising.

personality: for how i'd describe myself, i'd definitely say i try my best to be optimistic about things. whenever i ask people if my personality is the sun or the moon, they usually say i'm the sun LOL. i've been told that i have a relaxing voice and that i have a comforting presence. from my perspective, i'm decently quiet and shy and i get pretty nervous talking to new people irl, but once the conversation gets going, i can talk to anyone just fine. i tend to be agreeable, and i think i'm pretty easy to talk to. my friends say i'm a sweet person , but that i also seem to get lost in my thoughts a lot or daydream often. i've also been told by many people that i'm pretty funny, and my humor tends to rely on a mix of my vocabulary and the latest trends. i'm playful and silly by nature, often teasing my friends and goofing around, but i'm also capable of providing genuine advice and comfort to people if they need me to. i like a lot of playful banter in my life. i've also been told that i'm trustworthy and reliable whenever i work with other people. additionally, i'm more detail-oriented, mainly because i like to go in-depth and consider things with logic if i can. but, at the same time, i can be a bit impatient and impulsive if i really want something, but not so much that i do anything too reckless, if that makes sense LOL.

likes: psychology (so much so that i want to pursue a career in it), astrology, history, playing video games (mainly roblox, cookie run kingdom, the persona series, and twst), sweet stuff and candy, watching the sunrise, sleeping / taking naps, cats, listening to music

dislikes: bugs (i'm terrified of them ☹️ just the thought of touching them makes me shudder with fear), dirty rooms, injustice, canned green beans (i gagged last time i ate them 😭), singing in front of other people, dancing (only bcuz i'm really bad at it and it's embarrassing, LOL), overly arrogant people or people who think they're "above" me

hobbies: i spend a lot of my free time on my phone and in my room. i don't go to new places often, but i love to play games with my friends and chat on the phone. occasionally, i'll try out a new makeup look that i find online since i'm somewhat into beauty stuff. i usually spend a couple hours a day on tiktok (my attention span is cooked 🙁), but lately i've been trying to get back into drawing or painting!! i want to utilize a bit more of my creativity instead of just sitting around all day LOL. additionally, i'm a bit of a clean freak, so if a room in my house is getting a bit dusty, i'll dedicate a few hours to cleaning it up and reorganizing.

extra: im super sorry if this ended up being rlly long 😭 tysm for ur time!!

Extra info means extra points to write about no need to apologize!

== Twisted Wonderland ==>

I match you up with…

Rook Hunt

Pre-relationship:

Rook sees your inner beauty, as he does with most people, right away. The instant he meets you he’s going on about how lovely you look, and how your shyness hides away a vivid personality. 

How does he know these things? Pure instinct. But it’s a refined and usually correct instinct, so make of that what you will. 

He flutters around you day in and day out, asking you questions and testing you reactions to anything and everything. He’s a bit overwhelming at first, but once you really get to know him, he’s a reliable friend and always there to pick you up when you’re feeling down. 

He’s also taken by your interest in psychology. He himself is very observant and notices quite a lot about others that they don’t even know, and so the study of how the mind works fasniates him. If you tell him a factoid or two about psychology, and how you think it applies to one of your classmates or peers, he’ll be thrilled and praise you for your intelligence. 

Once you get close, he’ll often bring out the playful and silly side of you, absolutely taken with your smile and the sound of your laughter. Perhaps it’s then when he realizes that he’s fallen for you.

Confession: 

Rook is a romantic, sure, but he’s also knowledgable about your tastes and preferences. If you’d want a beautiful confession by moonlight, him singing a ballad beneath your window, then you’d get that. If you’d want a small and intimate confession, him gazing into your eyes lovingly, you’d get that. Whatever it was, two things would be certain: it would be terribly romantic, and it would be perfect. 

Relationship:

Whatever hobbies you have, Rook will absolutely be a part of them now. You want to draw? He’ll be your model, or watch you as you create! Playing video games? He’ll be your player 2! Whatever it is, he enjoys it, so long as he gets to be by your side. 

He hides his emotions fairly well from others around him, but when he’s around you, he tends to let you in on some of the smaller or more negative things he feels. It’s here that he appreciates the part of you that gives good advice. 

In turn, he’s always a willing confidant, and absolutely will tell you if you need to take a break from being the school’s therapist. 

He won’t just tell you: he’ll scoop you up and run away with you if needed, laughing like a madman and cuddling you so you wouldn’t be able to escape.

One thing is certain: whatever challenges or trials you face in life, Rook will be there to help you through them. 

[avopumpkin]

Ask exchange yay <3

Which characters are your favorite to draw/write about? Or maybe which character would you like to draw/write about in the future? :3

I like this question <33

I will mention some of my OCs here as well, but unfortunately I won't be able to provide with good pics with them because I have a new phones and I have only weird screenshots on my SD card. Hope it'll be fine <33

1. My pony OC Sue! (Full name Susanne Zoe)

I really love her. She's with me for over 10 years now. A few years ago she also finally got some lore, so I love her even more. <3 She got a younger sister Zoe, but I'm still working on her design, but it's not about her now.

I have an image of her from one fantasy challenge, and unfortunately it's just a screenshot, not a full art. Maybe some day I'll post some of her art I made! (Though I mostly draw for other people except myself, so I don't have much art of my OCs that I made :< )

2. My second favourite to draw is my OC Felicja! I love her so much!!! <33

I'm still working on her lore, but she got a beautiful girlfriend and works at Carrefour and occasionally as a maid. B)

Felicja (on the left) with @goldyluna 's OC Raven (on the right) made with some help of the base. <3

(People usually ignore it, but she got a red eyeliner and a little bit lighter red eyeshadow)

3. I want to finally finish my Naruto OC Hikari. I already got base colours but got no motivation. 😩 And I'd love to write her backstory, but it'll take a long time. But I hope that some day everything will be finished, so I can draw her more. <3

I spent a lot of time on a fullbody, but I'll share her headshot for now. <3

There's still a possibility that I will change some colours and maybe add some things, but I'm showing her anyway. <3

4. Shin Tsukimi!!! Maybe I don't like to draw his beanie and the dots on his scarf, but I actually like to draw his hair. His hair is soooo nice to draw. I don't know how to explain it, I just like how I move my hand while drawing him.

5. I want to draw Iris from The Witcher III: Hearts of Stone DLC. She's a very pretty woman and her story is so sad. :( I was crying a lot while progressing this DLC.

Characters I want/like to write about:

1. I want to write about Naruto.

I have an idea for an AU where Naruto joins ANBU. And I know other people wrote about it already, but I have my own idea and Goldy said it's a nice thing, so I want to try in the future because I think no one has ever written a story like this before. But I'll leave more details to myself, so nobody accidentally takes the idea from me. <3

2. I like to write Stardew Valley things, even though I only wrote about Sebastian and now I'm trying to finish my One-Shot about Leo. So let's say I want to write about Leo. I hope this part will motivate me to finish it.

3. I want to write more about Sebastian from Stardew Valley. I like his character.

4. I want to write about YTTD Sara. I have a really nice idea for an AU but I still have a lot to prepare. But I already love how the story might go, so I'm excited to work on it!! <3

[dearfuturehusbandblog]

ZMAN CHEIRUSEINU aka "I'M the terrible communicator!?!?!?!!"

Dear Future Husband,

I hope nobody ever quizzes me on this blog because there are so many things that I've started and stopped writing that never got posted that I literally never remember what I've actually put here...

Not that that's really fully relevant to what I was thinking about writing now, but I currently have two unfinished posts in my drafts folder (amidst 25 others that will probably never get posted) that are just a recap of this year so far.

Because I'm just a kid and life is a nightmare.

Explaining what's going on right now is kind of problematic because I haven't provided the lengthy backstory yet (which is one of the drafts I have yet to finish...)

Suffice to say, MotherLivelyHeart is being a nightmare to me again.

I think I've shared before that MLH and I share a vehicle? If not... yeah, we share a car. I'll have to look through my posts to see if I've explained that situation before, because that's one more thing to check off the "my life absolutely f*ing sucks" list.

Usually this isn't the worst thing in the world because we operate on different schedules and there isn't much crossover when it comes to who needs the car when, and when there is I usually drop her off somewhere, do what I need to do, and pick her up after.

For the record, I HATE when she offers the opposite because I have a history of being abandoned in places waiting for her to pick me up and it gives me such severe anxiety.

So last week on Sunday I asked MLH what her plans were for the next day. I asked this because I overheard a phone call she received on Friday from the dentist's office about an appointment she had on Monday at noon that she hadn't told me anything about and I knew if I was going to ever find out she was going to take the car, I would have to be the one to ask her. So I asked. And wouldn't you believe it, she had a dentist appointment on Monday at noon! Shocker.

Now, I'd been out of work since the beginning of January (again, details will hopefully be in another post) so I had a lot to take care of at work last Monday and I told her that.

We agreed she would have the car for her appointment and I would take the car to work when she got home.

Come Monday afternoon, suddenly everything has changed.

You see, her boss called in sick and she had the day off because she has a specific job that requires her to work alongside her boss and if he doesn't work, she doesn't work.

So she had the day off. Joy.

Of course, did she tell this to me directly? No.

Did she message me this information? No.

I'm just supposed to approach her and ask, "hey, did your boss call in sick and give you the day off?" I guess.

So she went to her appointment and ran some errands and called me while she was still out. Apparently some specific water bottles she can only get in like two places were available at one store about 20 minutes away from our house and she placed a pickup order so she could get them before they were sold out. The order had to be picked up between like 2:30-3:30pm and she called me at around 1:30.

Great.

She picked a pickup time that was directly during the time I was supposed to be at work.

Which she knew.

Because I told her this literally the day before.

So I told her fine. She should do the pickup order and when she got back I would take the car to work.

"Well, I also wanted to go swimming."

*Deep breath* Ok, what time is swimming?

"From 2-9pm."

At this point I didn't know how long I'd be at work because one of the things I had to take care of could be like 4-6 hours and I didn't know if there would be enough time when I was done to get home and let her get to the pool with enough time to swim before they closed.

"Ok, well why don't you go swimming, do the pickup order, and then I'll take the car to work?"

"Well, I want to come home and eat something first."

Ok. So now, what was supposed to be my time to take the car is going to be "stolen" by her coming home (15 minutes), eating something (15 minutes), going to swim (40 minutes), getting the pickup order (30 minutes), and coming back home (20 minutes).

This is TWO HOURS off of my time.

WHICH I HAD TOLD HER I NEEDED LITERALLY THE DAY BEFORE.

So she came home, ate something, and changed into her bathing suit. She left around 2pm for the pool.

I assumed at this point I'd hear from her around 3:30pm that she was around the corner.

But 3:30 came and went.

4:00pm came and went.

4:30pm came and went.

5:00pm came and BigSis messaged that she would be done at work in an hour and could either of us give her a ride home?

MOTHERF@*$%^#$ER

So it's been three hours without an update from MLH, but then she responds "I should be on my way back from the pickup order then."

EXCUSE ME!?!?!?!

She left for the pool at 2pm. THREE HOURS have gone by and she hasn't even gotten the pickup order that was supposed to be picked up between 2:30-3:30pm!?!?!?!!?!?

But she tells me that I'M a terrible communicator.

I was supposed to get the car by 1:30pm latest. It was now after 5pm and I STILL hadn't gotten to work yet.

As much as I hate when she offers to drop me off at work so she can take care of things that will take a few hours, SHE DIDN'T EVEN ASK ME THAT. She made it seem like I would have the car all afternoon to take care of what I needed to at work. And when her plans shifted, she made it seem like I'd have the car by 3:30pm latest.

And let me remind you THAT I TOLD HER THE DAY BEFORE WHAT MY SCHEDULE WAS SO THAT THIS S*** WOULDN'T HAPPEN.

But I'M the terrible communicator.

At that point I was so frickin annoyed already. MLH messaged me "should I get her or just come home" and I was so peeved I said "just get her because if you come home and I take the car I'm not picking her up."

She didn't respond to that message.

Great.

No thumbs up. No "ok." Just nothing.

Then at 6:12pm I get a message from her "car's downstairs in front."

So no message from BigSis that MLH had picked her up and they were heading home. No "we're around the corner." No nothing except over an hour later "take it."

BUT I'M THE TERRIBLE COMMUNICATOR!?

At that point it was too late for me to do some of the things I needed to take care of for work because, again, I was supposed to have been there FIVE HOURS EARLIER. And a friend messaged and asked if I could go with her to Costco, so I said to hell with it and I went to Costco with her.

While I was at Costco I messaged both MotherLivelyHeart and BigSis about what I was getting so we were all on the same page. Included in that message was eggs because, well, I was getting eggs.

I got home at like 10pm and MotherLivelyHeart and BigSis were already asleep. I made a couple of mini salami kugels with some spinach that oddly floated to the top, waited for them to cool, tried 1/4 of one before sticking them in the fridge.

Next morning I open the fridge and there's a new carton of 1.5 dozen eggs. Because apparently MLH went to the supermarket early in the morning and got eggs because "we were out."

DESPITE ME LITERALLY MESSAGING THE NIGHT BEFORE THAT I WAS BUYING EGGS AT COSTCO.

Oh, but it gets better. Because the salami kugel I had tasted the night before was missing.

BigSis was working from home so I asked her about it and she said she had no clue.

So I asked MotherLivelyHeart about it, thinking maybe it slipped out of the fridge, smashed, and she threw it out.

But no.

Guess who ate it.

Yep, the woman who has been suffering from gout and avoiding meat for the better part of a year.

The woman who saw it in the fridge and said to herself "oh, that's one of the broccoli kugels LivelyHeart made for herself for Shabbos that she said wasn't good. I guess I'll eat that for breakfast without asking her if she really doesn't want it because although she's on a weird diet right now, there's no way she's made a meal plan for herself that includes this food item she made for herself."

Because, did she message me to ask if she could have it?

Nope.

Did she knock on my door to ask if she could have it?

Nope.

Halfway through eating it she realized it was salami.

And she still finished the whole thing.

And still at NO POINT did she message me AT ALL to even tell me that she ate it.

I had to find out by inquiring OF HER.

BUT. I'M. THE. TERRIBLE. COMMUNICATOR!?!?!?!

I shouldn't be mad.

It's just food, after all, right?

Except that it's not.

It's a frickin pattern of carelessness and disregard for me as a person.

And I'm so frickin sick of it.

I'm so damn tired.

It wouldn't have killed her to ask.

It wouldn't have killed her to apologize.

And what I haven't really explained here (because again, that's in a draft post) is that I've been on an elimination diet since January 1st which has cut most things from my available food selections.

But is she on an elimination diet?

Nope.

So we have a HOUSEFUL, a PANTRYFUL, and a FRIDGEFUL of food she can eat.

And she chooses the ONE thing I made FOR ME.

Which she KNEW I made for ME.

Instead of the MYRIAD OF THINGS that she can eat that I can't.

Which means that she's not only taken a meal from me, but now I'm at a food deficit from the fridge while she lives in abundance.

BUT. I'M. THE. TERRIBLE. COMMUNICATOR.

So let's leap forward to today.

Today was Shabbos mevorchim. Pesach is in two weeks.

And MotherLivelyHeart decided we are going to change over the kitchen two weeks ahead this year.

So she scheduled her cleaning lady to come tomorrow (Sunday) to help clean the kitchen so it can be turned over.

Did she take into account that this would be motzei Shabbos and that we'd have to make Shabbos and that would involve dirty dishes and use of the stove/oven and pots and pans?

Yeah, no.

Did she take into account that the way she wants to clean the oven requires the oven to be self-cleaned before and after which takes a good several hours and creates so much smoke that we'd have to keep the windows open and also it's like 40F right now and she also wanted to go to sleep early because the cleaning lady is coming at like 8am?

Yeah, no.

BigSis went over the oven cleaning thing with her and she exclaimed "are you kidding me?! Then why am I having the cleaning lady come tomorrow?!"

BECAUSE YOU SCHEDULED HER WITHOUT CONSULTING US.

BECAUSE THERE WAS NO COMMUNICATION.

DO YOU SEE A FRICKIN THEME HERE!?!?!!?

Oh, but there's more. Because there's always more.

Thursday was another nightmare day for various reasons. One of which was that I ran errands with MotherLivelyHeart.

She scheduled an appointment for smackdab in the middle of the time I told her I'd be working.

YES. AGAIN.

And she wanted to drop me off at work and pick me up when I was done.

Well absofrickinlutelynot, thankyouverymuch.

I was supposed to work until 6pm.

I had told customers I would be available until 6pm.

Her appointment was scheduled for 6pm.

So of course "I need the car at 5:30pm."

She wanted to drive me to work earlier so that she could take the car at 5:30pm to her appointment that wouldn't be done until 7pm and then come get me an hour and a half after I was done working.

But I was supposed to trust that she wouldn't run errands or dilly dally around and that she'd actually get me at 7:30pm, which we know is never the case.

So I told her no, I'd be taking the car to work. But I would notify the customers I'd only be there until 5:30pm, at which point I'd get her and drive her to her appointment. Then while she was in her appointment I could do the Shabbos shopping, since it seemed pointless to have to wait for her to come home again before I could go out and shop.

For various reasons, we had three stores we needed to go to, one of which was about 20 minutes in the opposite direction of where her appointment was. I figured I could go there first, then on my way back to get her I could run by the other two stores, get her and then we'd go straight home.

But no.

Because it was raining and people apparently don't know how to drive in the rain. So despite me taking the highway, which should have cut like 10 minutes out of the ride each way, it took me about 30 minutes to get to that first store, which I was in for maybe 10 minutes, and as I was checking out MLH messaged "my appointment is almost over, where are you at?"

So all I had time for was turning around and going straight to get her.

Which, fine, whatever.

One of the stores we went to literally just for chicken.

And it was chicken for her because she wanted a specific type of breaded chicken for Shabbos.

So I figured I'd run into the store and grab it while she stayed in the car.

But no.

Because while I was unbuckling, she was unbuckling. Because she decided to come in.

So she went to look at side salads and I went to the chicken section where I waited but she never showed up.

Then I get a message from her.

"Where are you?"

Excuse me???? WHERE ARE YOU, WOMAN???

I told her I was at the chicken section waiting for her and she said "I already checked out. I'm going back to the car."

WE LITERALLY WENT TO THIS STORE TO BUY HER CHICKEN.

SHE CAME IN WITH ME.

PRESUMABLY TO BUY HER CHICKEN.

But she's checked out already!? WITH WHAT!?

Oh. Apparently something to eat. Because she's hangry.

Which she, OF COURSE, DID NOT TELL ME.

Fine. Whatever.

So I bought her frickin chicken.

And then on the way home she got mad at me about three driving-related things that were out of my control (like the car started making a weird noise that might be the muffler, and there was a huge pothole I couldn't avoid, and I was coming to a stop at an intersection when some lady rounded the corner quickly and we barely missed colliding...) which resulted in her yelling at me that she hates the way I'm driving.

So, yeah, that was a fun ride home.

*EYEROLL*

Anyway, on the way to her appointment she said "we never worked out a Shabbos menu."

I told her the same thing I've told her almost every week over the last three months: I'm eating differently from you guys, so you just tell me what you want and I'll grab it from the store, because I already have set aside what I'm going to eat.

And she tells me "my boss has off tomorrow, so I can cook."

Which is perfectly fine in my eyes because I'm still recovering from an injury (again, that's one of the drafted posts...) and I also had a horrendous cold for the previous two weeks so I'm still trying to get back to baseline. Any pressure off me is appreciated.

We basically worked out that for shabbos we'd do a big soup for Friday night (which I would make), then she wanted chicken (obvs) and I had bought green beans at Costco I told her she could have, and then Shabbos lunch would be fish and salady stuff.

Well, Friday rolls around.

The day already sucked because I tried adding some vegetables back into my diet during the week that are apparently problematic for my digestion. Fun.

But then MotherLivelyHeart decides to stick to her arbitrary Pesach cleaning schedule which says to clean the milchig dishes she's had piling up all week. So of course she decides to do this at like noon and doesn't finish the job and there are still milchig dishes in the sink at 3pm when I need to go in and make the soup.

Add onto that, one of my "chores" is the pareve dishes, some of which have been piling up too and also need to be done, which she feels the need to remind me of, despite her milchig dishes still filling the sink.

So I go in around 3pm and just start cooking, using the small bit of counter space that's available to me.

She decides that's the perfect time to finish the milchig dishes.

FINE. WHATEVER.

She gets them out of the way and reminds me YET AGAIN about the pareve dishes.

FINEWHATEVER.

So around 4pm I'm back in the kitchen, doing the pareve dishes, of which I only got about half done because it was causing pain and I still had to cook.

So I pivoted and did the soup.

But nothing else had been cooked yet.

So I made the green beans.

And I had to separate the soups so I could add things to theirs that I can't eat.

At this point I'm still annoyed from her the day before, my insides are so unhappy with the newly tested foods, I'm in pain from the injury, and I'm trying to cook for Shabbos.

Around 6pm I asked BigSis if she could help with the chicken. She was like "I STILL HAVE TO SHOWER!!!" As though she didn't have all day for that and somehow me needing help is my fault. She said "if you had asked me like three hours ago I could have done it."

Except that three hours ago, the milchig dishes were still filling up the sink, so.... what exactly do you expect from me!?

Sometime a little earlier when MotherLivelyHeart had been in the kitchen it was clear I wasn't doing so well and she asked what was wrong and I described the pain and she was like "I'm sorry" and then disappeared.

So then she gets a "20 minutes to candle lighting" alarm on her phone, and she's been trying to light early in zchus of the hostages and chayalim, so she calls out "20 minutes to licht benchen." Which I responded to but she didn't hear, obviously, because she yelled again "LivelyHeart, did you hear me!?"

To which I responded an annoyed "YES!!" and she was like "you don't have to talk to me that way! I clearly didn't hear you. And BigSis and I can make Shabbos on our own, you know."

Which, MYGODWOMAN. YOU WERE SUPPOSED TO.

My responsibility based on our conversation was the soup.

ZE HU.

SHE was supposed to do the chicken and the green beans and whatever else they wanted.

So now she's annoyed at me because I'm annoyed at her for not doing the thing she was supposed to do, but I'M the one in the wrong.

FINE. Whatever.

In the end I didn't do the chicken.

I literally didn't have the strength for it, let alone the energy.

Not that it was really missed at the meal, but she was a bit annoyed and gave me that same "BigSis and I can cook for Shabbos on our own, you know." To which I responded "You said you were going to cook." I literally don't even remember what her response was.

Well, fast forward through Shabbos to tonight because I asked her if she wanted the chicken for melava malka or if we should stick it in the freezer for a week since it's KFP.

She wanted it for melava malka.

Which, fine, whatever.

I told her if she could bread it, I would cook it.

She got gloves, she got bowls, she got the chicken, and she got eggs.

She did not get the other ingredients she needed for the breading. Or a plate to put it on. Or a fork.

She sat down at the table and then asked me to get the other ingredients.

Which, fine. Whatever.

I got an interesting piece of mail that I'll discuss in another post when I know more what's going on with it, but it basically called my attention to research something. So I was on my computer off to the side while she was breading the chicken.

The next thing I know, she's frying the chicken.

I went into the kitchen and asked her why she was frying it when I told her I would do it for her since cooking usually exhausts her, and she got all frustrated and exasperated at me and said something like "I DON'T HAVE ALL NIGHT TO WAIT FOR YOU."

And I was like, "what are you talking about!? I was waiting for you to finish breading it! you didn't tell me you were done!"

Which just pissed her off more.

BECAUSE. I'M. THE. TERRIBLE. COMMUNICATOR.

But this is the time of year we celebrate freedom, right?

This is the time of year we thank Hashem for rescuing us from a horrible situation.

Well, where's mine?

We're supposed to celebrate every year as though WE ALL left Mitzrayim.

As though we were ALL saved.

But I am not saved.

I have never been saved.

The stupidity I've just described above is just a piece of the insane patterning of my entire life.

I have no escape from this nonsense.

And I'm just so done with all of it.

I want it all to be over.

I want it all to go away.

Where's my freedom?

Where's my salvation?

I really have to finish those other two drafts, because this isn't even the clearest picture of what I've been dealing with since 2024 started. It's barely April and I just want this secular year to be over.

There are a couple of people who have suggested guys to me over the last several months and, although they're not really what I'm looking for, right now I just don't have the emotional energy for a new relationship. I'm just so burned out from this one that I deal with every frickin day of my stupid life, which of course I can't even tell these people.

So... dear future husband, I hope you can hang in there, because I don't know when I'll be ready for you.

But maybe by then I'll be a good communicator.

-LivelyHeart

And now for the story after the story:

So, after that disaster of a drive back from the store on Thursday night, we got home around 8:30pm and although she got something small to eat from that second supermarket I knew that MotherLivelyHeart hadn't eaten anything since lunch so when I made dinner for myself I made a second bowl for her. I brought it to her and she said "oh... you didn't have to do that." Not a lot of enthusiasm there.

She didn't eat it for about a half an hour, by which time it was probably cold, and the next thing I knew, she was in bed going to sleep without another word about how it was.

Now, I don't demand praise or feedback for anything I cook, but she usually makes a comment about whatever I make, so I found it odd that she was silent on the matter.

On Friday I went to ask her about something else and while I was talking to her I asked how her dinner was the night before and she said something along the lines of, "it was... interesting. ground chicken just doesn't cook well, it's not your fault. you prepared it well, it's just not that good. ground turkey is better."

No "thank you," no "it was sweet of you to think of me," no "I appreciate the effort especially considering that you're working through the pain right now."

Just meh.

I love when I'm appreciated.

[hypersonic04]

Part Six

I am SO sorry at the amount of time this took me to write. I am feeling inspired and excited to complete this series though, so watch. this. space. I also recommend listening to 'I Can See You' (TV) (FTV) whilst reading this because it is essentially that song that has fuelled this chapter.

Word Count: 2,746

"What's wrong? What's happened?"

I swing the door of the recording studio open harshly. My face feels flushed as I stand there, breathing heavily. Matty called me about twenty minutes ago, telling me to get to the studio ASAP in the name of an 'emergency'.

"It's fine, Ross has sorted it."

It's been six days since Ross left me in the middle of the pouring rain. No text message, no phone call, nothing. My stomach drops at the mention of his name, I've almost tried to pretend that he doesn't exist since that night.

"Seriously?" I huff, angry now.

"Yeah, it was just something with the software, could've lost everything." He says flippantly, glancing at me as i look at him in disbelief. "It's sorted now, though. Ross to the rescue, yet again."

I scoff at his choice of words, shaking my head and turning to leave.

"Oi," Matty's voice calls from behind me, "Why haven't you been in the studio this week?"

"I've just been busy." I turn to him, clearing my throat as I do so.

"Too busy for us?" He raises his eyebrows. "What, is it a guy? Is that why you've been acting weird?"

"No! No, it's not a guy." I feel my cheeks flush and wonder whether Ross has told him about our kiss the other night. I immediately squash that thought as I remember his attitude towards the whole thing, acting like it was a sin to have feelings, never mind a kiss.

"Then what is it? One minute you're really into it, the next you're barely answering my texts?"

"I'm sorry, okay?" I throw my arms in the air dramatically.

"It's not that you need to apologise, we're just worried about you. Me and the boys, I mean."

I swallow heavily, shifting my eyes around the room.

"Look, we're playing a show tomorrow night - please come." I look to Matty and see his dark eyes pleading, and I realise that I can't let some dickhead guy get in the way of what is not only a great work opportunity, but also a great friendship. "It's in Brixton, I can sort you out a car and everything."

"Yeah, I'll be there."

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

My palms are sweaty as I get ready, sat in front of the mirror. Ross and I haven't even remotely been near each other in over a week, yet those few seconds play like a stuck record in my head.

The way his stubble grazed against my soft skin. His thumbs pressed into my sides, burning through the fabric of my shirt, heat spreading across my body like wildfire. His aftershave, his lips, his tongue, him.

I snap myself out of my daydream, cheeks flushing at the way my stomach tosses and turns at the mere thought of him. I shouldn't feel like this - I should be angry, I should never want to see him ever again. After his outburst at the horrifying reality of our kiss, he disappeared, turning around and heading back down the road we'd walked up, ignoring the call of his name. He left me stood there, middle of the night, rain coming down in literal sheets, and didn't even bother to call me the next day, or the day after that?

I take a deep breath and gather myself. The car Matty booked arrives in twenty minutes - just enough time to down a shot of tequila and give myself a pep talk. I look in the mirror and sigh. Having had a panic when realising I had twenty four hours to gather a concert outfit, I'd settled on my usual - mini skirt, band t-shirt, dad's old leather jacket that is arguably just too oversized. With my hair pinned up and bangs curled, I line my lips and add a wing to my eyes, finally feeling ready.

The car beeps it's horn outside and I hurry, my boots heavy on the pavement as I rush down the steps.

I breathe deeply as we round the corner to the venue, nerves prickling up my back. Swallowing heavily, I thank the driver and get out of the car, my feet feeling heavy as I walk towards the entrance. It's around the back, but I can already hear the bustle of the queues around the front of the arena, even hours before the boys go on themselves.

"Wow, hello stranger!" George teases as I walk down the hallway, him coming towards me from the opposite direction. I roll my eyes in response and accept his hug.

"Nice to see you too." I tease.

"No, genuinely, did you disappear off of the face of the Earth? Abducted by aliens, maybe?"

"Give over." I laugh, following him into the green room. My eyes are already two steps ahead of my brain, scanning the room for him. "I've just been busy."

"Fair enough." He smiles. "Do you want a drink?"

"Yeah, go on then."

We sit and chat for a while before the other boys arrive, enjoying the quiet before the chaos.

"You know, I was talking to Ross earlier-"

My eyes widen at the words as they leave his mouth, and somehow become impossibly wider as he enters the room.

He's smiling sweetly, dimples and all, and I hate the way my eyes are glued to him. Hann, Jamie, Polly and Matty follow him in, waving sarcastically as he comes in and throws his coat across the sofa.

I stand up to greet him, his arms wrapping tightly around my shoulders.

"I'm glad you came." He says as he pulls away and I nod, not sure whether I feel the same in the moment.

I meet Ross' gaze for a second and he gives me a nod of sorts, and for the first time since that night, I feel angry. At him, at what he did, at the fact that he thinks he doesn't owe me an apology. I blink harshly and look away, inhaling sharply and making my way over to the bar cart. Pouring myself a strong drink, I gather my emotions and listen to the deep rumbling of his voice behind me.

"Yeah, it's packed outside already, loads of people." He says to George.

I sit on the sofa, legs crossed and eyes fixed on my phone as I scroll through meaningless, empty Instagram posts. There's a tension in the room, the kind that makes the air feel sticky and hot, and I shift uncomfortably in my seat.

My eyes flick up and he's looking at me. He doesn't look away. I hold his stare for a few seconds, looking at him through my lashes as he takes a sip of his beer, cursing myself as I give in and look back down at my phone. I listen as he talks to Jamie, and it's like someone's sucked the air out of my lungs as memories of that night flash into my mind. I stand up sharply, making my way towards the door. It's busy in the green room now, lots of family and friends chatting away, and I pray that the busy-ness of the room has made my exit discreet.

"Everything okay?" Matty's hand grips my forearm gently, his brow furrowed.

"Yeah, just going for some air." I smile, nodding lightly.

My boots land heavily on the halls as I make my way towards the exit, weaving my way through the stage hands and guests busying their ways around.

I feel a cold hand on my arm, a gasp escaping my lungs as i'm pulled down a corridor. Instinctively, I try and pull away, but the firm grip has other ideas.

His eyes are dark, looking down at me with concern.

"It's me, it's just me."

"For fuck's sake, Ross!" I hit his arm, taking deep breaths and placing a hand on my chest as it falls and rises. He just watches me and I shake my head. "What? What is this?" I gesture around us.

"We need to talk." He says lowly, his eyes constantly looking to the hallway.

"Do you think so? Yeah, maybe you're right, maybe we do need to talk after you left-"

"Stop shouting." He says blankly, his voice still quiet.

"I cannot believe this." I laugh sarcastically and attempt to leave, but again, his fingertips find my arm.

"Please."

I meet his eyes and they look sad. Like, genuinely sad. I feel the anger in my stomach start to dissipate, sighing as I tilt my head at him.

"Are you going to tell me what happened, then?" I give in, folding my arms across my chest.

He looks both ways down the hallway, double-checking that no one will hear the criminal thing he did. I roll my eyes as he does so.

"I panicked."

I look at him blankly. "That's it? That's all you've got to say, you panicked?"

"Yeah, I panicked. I worried what the boys would say, I panicked that i would look like a fucking idiot if you didn't feel the same. Yeah, I panicked, Iris." He raises his eyebrows at me and I feel guilty for a second before I remember how he made me feel.

"So you just left me? Ross, I could have been killed, it was like 2AM, and you just left me! That's not an excuse!"

"I know, and I'm sorry!"

"I'm not arguing with you about this."

"Iris, this isn't an argument, I'm explaining what happened."

"Explaining? Don't you think I deserve a proper apology?"

"You do, and I've said I'm sorry. Iris, please, just listen to my side of things." He looks down at me and runs a hand through his hair, his chest rising underneath his t shirt as he rests his other hand on his hip. It takes everything in me to keep the blush from creeping into my cheeks, because despite how angry I am right now, he's still so hot.

"Go on, then." I put my hands on my hips and look at him expectantly, the eye contact between us making me blush no matter how hard i try not to.

"I said all those things to you, and I worried that I'd said too much and that everything was going to go up in flames. You work really well with the band, and I didn't want me to ruin everything." he looks down at his feet for a second. "I just... I'm sorry I left you there. I really am. It was a really shit thing to do, and if I could go back, I'd change things, and-"

"Well, you can't Ross." I sigh. "But thank you. For apologising, I mean, and explaining, i guess."

"Are we okay, Iris?" He looks at me with those big, puppy dog eyes, and if organs could melt, i think my heart would be in a puddle. "I know we were never really good, but are we okay, at least?"

"Yeah, we're okay." I nod, pursing my lips and kicking the floor with the toe of my boot. He nods in approval, awkwardly stood in front of me as the silence grows tense again. "Was I really that bad of a kisser?"

He scoffs at me and smiles, and despite everything that's happened between us, I can't help but grin. "No, you definitely weren't, Iris."

My cheeks flush bright red and I laugh awkwardly.

"Okay, I'm going to leave now." I nod and he smiles at me, and I wish I could just dip into his mind and know what he's thinking as our gazes connect, unable to tear away from each other. "I'm leaving now."

I spend the evening in the green room with the boys' families as they get ready to go on stage. Someone comes to tell us they're going on in five, so we make our way to the stage.

Walking down the hallway, I see the boys heading in the opposite direction, presumably through a different entrance.

It's like slow motion. I meet Ross' tall figure - he's wearing a white shirt, the sleeves rolled up halfway, hair up, black trousers on. He maintains the eye contact as he gets closer, and as he brushes past me, I feel our fingertips meet. Gentle, cold, soft, electric. It's like touching an open flame, yet I don't pull my hand away. I can't breathe at the proximity of him, our chests close as he turns to the side to ease past me in the small hallway.

Glancing up at him, there's an unfamiliar look on his face - a smirk. His lips curve upwards cockily as he passes me, and I work hard to turn away from him.

The entire show goes by in a blur - a blur of excitement, desire, tension. The band sound great, and even perform a snippet of a song we've been working on, but he is all I can look at, tall and broad as he skilfully plays away. Seeing him in his element makes me feel a different level of attraction to him.

As the show ends and the crowd screams for them, he meets my gaze at the side of the stage, that same smile appearing. I cheer, whistling for him and he laughs lightly. I smile to myself as I realise that this is truly the first friendly interaction we've had, if friendly is what you can call this. The show ends and the crowds filter out, everyone backstage congratulating the band and bottles of champagne being popped. I try to distract myself from his looming presence in the room, his mind clearly elsewhere as he chats with people from the label.

My eyes follow him as he makes his way towards the door, tall and strong, excusing himself politely as he curbs around people. When he reaches the door, i watch as he searches the room, finally meeting my gaze and cocking his head. I inhale sharply, blushing both because of the fact that I was staring, but also the intimacy of his gesture.

I do as I'm told - I excuse myself from the conversation with Matty's aunties and leave the room. He slips into a room further down the hallway, and I notice that he leaves the door open.

"Ross, what-"

The second I enter the room, he's closing the door behind us and I'm pressed up against it. His hands are either side of my head, his face impossibly close to mine, and I feel my body go like putty under his presence. My lips part as his eyes are trained on my face, and the fire is lit in my stomach.

"I thought about you while I was out there." His deep voice murmurs. "The whole time."

"The whole time?"

He hums in reply and I squeeze my legs together. He notices and I blush.

"I thought we were okay, Ross."

"We'll never be okay, Iris."

I subconsciously move my hands up his shirt, watching as he closes his eyes. He moves his head to the side for a moment, almost like he's thinking about the pro's and con's of this situation.

"They don't have to know, if that's what you're worried about." I say quietly, my mind clouded in the darkness of the room.

He looks back to me and shakes his head lightly. "They'll know." He huffs, not moving. "I need you, Iris."

I scratch the hair at the nape of his neck lightly and hear the low groan escape his throat.

I can't take it anymore - I stand on my tiptoes and press my lips to his, and it's like taking a cold shower after a hot day. His lips on mine are relieving.

"Are you sure?" He mumbles against me as his hands move underneath my shirt, rubbing and circling at the soft skin at my waist.

"I'm sure." I nod, probably seeming a little desperate.

His hands trail down my thighs, pulling the tiny mini skirt even higher if possibly. The groans and hums that leave his mouth have me reeling.

I push him backwards, his knees hitting the sofa behind him and forcing him to sit down. His eyes are impossibly dark, clouded with desire and needy as I stand in front of him.

"You're not going to leave me in the middle of this, are you?" I tease as I move to straddle him using my thumb to wipe away the lipstick smeared in his cheek.

"Never." he murmurs as his lips find my neck, forcing my eyes shut.

[browneyes-issac]

Hellos everyoneeee!!! 💞👋

Sooooo I'm coming backkkk!! Finally!! 🙈💞😆

Warning This is super longgggg!! 🤣🙈

So I deeply apologize for dropping off the face of the earth back in February... I really had full 100% intentions of staying up to date with ready and writing... I just... I really think I overwhelmed myself working and trying to keep up.. Which that's nothing against anyone. I'm just super slow and I was still getting used to working evening being there five months. So I was sleeping more then my usual napping. So I think that's what started me backing away.

Then the housekeeping boss... She was becoming more and more of a bully to us and one of the ladies in laundry finally had enough and went to HR. She ended up getting fired. My aunt ended up taking the position.. Which yeah that was the logical choice but some stuff happened with her which I'll get into later on. But yeahhh, original boss lady strained on my mental health a lot...

And I am big on saying heyy blow up my phone if you need and or want to for whatever you want.. But I feel bad doing it to others so getting behind on my reading.. It kinda messed with me. Because I feel really bad for not staying up to date but also I just... I was getting burned out I think... 🥺🥺

~

A positive note ----

Biketok kinda consumed me on tiktok... 🤣🙈 gotta love the masked men love that Mando started for meeeee!! 🤣🤭

I have no words.. They all are so amazing and badass and I just... Yeahhh 🤭😍 I used to really hate sports bikes... But idk tiktok showed me they can be absolutely beautiful and their riders are so amazing... 🥺

I got a whole list of them that I follow and love but there is this one... His name is Angel. I don't even know where to start with him. He's so amazing, precious, dorky, idkk I just love and adore him. 💞

When I started following him it kinda started out as a crush.. Because ya know a booktok themed video of his popped up.. 🤣🤭 But once I got to know him through his lives and his more personal posts.. My love for him turned more into a comfort love. He brings me so much joy and comfort.. Like his fourth live I watched, I passed tf out. And I'm big on the saying; you fall asleep faster when you are laying next to someone you feel safe with. And it's the same thing with him. His voice just... 🥺💞🥰 Even when the dork is screaming and yelling at his games on live.. Still pass out and stay asleep. 🤣 he's really helped me heal a lot... 🫶

^^^^ this is the stinker in question. 🤭🤣 he did a face reveal, so I feel it's ok I am posting it on other social media. 💞 He's so stinking handsome I cantttt!! 😍💞🥰

I may still do thirsty comments on his posts.. But my teasing love and comfort love for him over powers that.. He just knows how to get under my skin with the spiciness.. 🤣🙈

He does have a girlfriend, which I'm endlessly happy for him.. He deserves endlesssss happiness!! 💞

If you would like to check him out... All socials are Outrunangels. He also has music out under that name. 🥰 he has music out under another name too, but not gonna promote it.. Not gonna type it out, if you'd like to listen to it after you've checked out the angel stuff.. Let me know and or I'll do a post about it too.. 🤣

~~~~~

Ok back to the annoying soppy stuff.. Enough of me gushing about my Angel baby.. 🤣💞🤭

So when I was pulled into biketok.. I found this one guy. He followed me back on tiktok and one day we started talked and he asked to move to snap, because tiktok didn't send him notifications good enough.. Which is fine, I had no problem with that. We started talking more.. Kinda... Kinda ended up being more of a spicy relationship. Which I was fine with. Because I've never been a relationship or had any romantic anything.. I know I've never shared this on here, but I've grown a lot and I'm not that ashamed of it anymore. I'll share about what helped me later on.

Anyways. This guy... I confessed I started developing feelings for him and that I'd love to start to get to know each other better. His response was I'm sorry I don't do relationships because I move around a lot. Ok I get that completely, but long distance can work and it doesn't hurt to at least have friends.

So I kinda started stepping back.. Because that hurt and as time went on it did more and I had some good days. Then around the middle of August, maybe the week after my birthday (it's the 6th ), he posted a few videos with a girl and I believe one said it was his girlfriend. Sooo yeahhh that killed me a bit. Like ok you could have been a decent human and said hey I don't like you anymore so let's stop talking, because I found someone.

I stepped back completely then.. I kept him on everything and just slowly deleted him off of everything. A few weeks ago a video of his popped up, he ended up breaking up with that girl.. I kinda laughed, because karmaaaa! 🤷‍♀️

Angel came into my life at a really good time. It was right before the crap with this guy got really bad for my mental health. And just like his name he was an angel and saved me. 🥺💞

Back to work stuff... Ya know how I said my aunt is my boss? Yeah kinda sucks now... So my dad is the manager for the bowling alley in town. He hired my cousin, my aunts son. He's been slacking a lot.. Dad has tried talking to him a lotttt... Fought to get him a raise... And then the Monday after my dad's birthday he fired him. Because he went behind dads back to the GM.. What's the point of dad being manager if he's gonna go to the GM?? Some other stuff happened too that caused dad to finally fire him.

My aunt is a childish person... So of course when my dad tried to talk to her calmly when she was there with her bowling buddies... She blew up at him talking about this isn't my problem blah blah.. And some other stuff that is family stuff.. Don't wanna get into it.. Been dealing with that mentally too much...

So she's been acting annoyingly at work.. Some other reasons too, but it irritates me too much so not gonna get into it.

Back in September one of the CNAs on my Hall was making fun t-shirts for all of us to wear for Halloween in October. She asked me to come help her and just hang out.. She only had mine left to do, pay day was the following week.. So I assumed that we were gonna wait to wear them until I had mine done. Which awesome, I'm fine with waiting.. Get to work Tuesday.. And all of them are wearing their shirts... It crushed me, but I didn't say anything because I've never been like that. But my mom, the protector she is... Did say something to Chrissy (aunt/boss) and a CNA she's friends with.. She talked to her in confidence as friend and fellow mom... Well this girl went to the nursing boss about it... So boss lady chewed the nursing saffs butts about it...

Mind you. Two of the CNAs I've known most of my life.

I think it was the Friday that this happened... When I got back upstairs from break, the girl that did the shirts asked if I was upset about not having my shirt yet. I said yes, but once I thought about it I was fine with not having it yet because I'm the housekeeper and the youngest, and my shirt is a different picture... And then mom got upstairs too because the CNA that actually cared about me out of the two I know, she had asked for mom to come talk to her... Because she knows how I'd react about the situation..

Mom and her walked away and I was still talking to the shirt maker one.. Boss lady and the other one I've known forever both said idk why we have to deal with right now and in the middle of the hall... Um excuse me, this is how we always talk.. It's not my fault you guys don't do your job properly so you gotta race to do things when state is in the building... So I walked away crying...

This killed me a lot.... Then the CNA that is mean that I've known... She keeps singling me out and setting me up for crap...

Mind you, she started doing this the week my mom was puking her brains out.

Oh and another thing I'm gonna share with y'all finally... I still live with parents.. We all aren't in a rush for me to move out and I help with bills, which is why I wanted a job...

We didn't know what was wrong with her.. She couldn't stand up really without feeling dizzy and puking... So no work for her.. I was having to worry about helping get her stuff done plus my hall. So I was slacking a lot. Because my mom is never sick. So I was freaking out and struggling a lot... She ended up going to the doctors and found out she has verdigo.

And this woman decides to start doing this crap that week and telling my boss.. I'm gonna leave this and see how long it takes lotus to pick it up... Like wtffff???

So yeah this all has been straining on my mental health a lot... I'm finally slowly getting bsck to being better... I'm gonna be switching to deep cleaning soon.. I'm training the new girl. I'm hoping she won't freak out and quite. 🤞

~~~ two postive things again.. 🥰

First.. The thing that had helped me not be ashamed of being single all my life and have no romantic background at all... I found this audio erotica app called Quinn. They have Voice actors that do spicyyy audios. It's such a wide range of stuff on there. Very sex postive. And their social media team posts so amazingly with helping us understand the positivity that goes with sex. They have helped me a lot with being ok with how I am not having experience. And I follow a few of the ones I love.. And ahh they are so sweet and awesome.. Have helped a lot too. Also, Quinn is only $5 a month.. 👀👀

Second... I got my first tattoo!!!

The meaning ---- this is a mental health tattoo.🫶

no I didn't get the lotus out of cheesiness of it being my name. I got it because I love the symbolism of it. Lotus flowers grow through the mud. So I have always said; you have to push through the mud of life to blossom into the beautiful lotus flower you are.

The words. I have always said that to my friends and myself.. And ya know I don't really cuss unless I'm really mad and that is how I always type out that cuss word.

It is also in honnor the people we have lost to suicide. 💞 I've had some family friends, famous people I adore and just in general for people we've lost to it. 💞

It's still super weird I have one. I never thought I would be able to do it!! I'm so scared of pain, but this pain.. It hurt but not really.. My mom and I keep saying, it's the perfect pain that doesn't hurt like other pain. I so calm during it that my hand went cold from keeping it still.. 🙈🤣

I can't wait to get moreeeee!! 🤭🤭

Ok will post this with some tags and then reblog with tagging people and some more to write. 💞

[trappedinmymind]

3, 7, 8, 16, 19 from this ask game

3. What is your writing ritual and why is it cursed?

I'm not entirely sure I'm interpreting this question correctly, but I'll try my best. So, since I typically have multiple writing projects going at a time (especially right now), my brain mentally categorizes them into "computer projects" and "phone projects". Computer projects are more 'important' (not really) and feel as though I have to work on them in a professional environment (i.e. sitting at a desk) and take them seriously. Phone projects are more relaxed, I'm-doing-this-just-for-fun projects (again, that's not actually true it's just how my brain perceives it at the time) where it feels appropriate to do anywhere, at any time. It's fine to do phone projects on the computer, but I Can Not do computer projects on my phone (I technically can, it just feels wrong). These categories are not fixed and in fact change regularly.

As for the actual writing process, phone projects tend to just be stream of consciousness. There are a few places I might need to edit, but they're usually [forgot this word] or [transition here] and other small edits. (As a note, I use brackets to signify where I need to edit, with whatever's inside describing my idea of what I need there. It makes it very easy to find with ctrl+f). Computer projects get something comparable to an actual outline, with lines of ideas of what I want to happen interspersed between [descriptions of what I want to happen here] and [more context/detail] and etc until I basically have the whole chapter planned. Then, I'll go back through and add whichever scenes I feel inspired for until the chapter basically looks like how a phone project would.

I usually take at least a few days off of writing after this, just to clear my head and come back to the chapter with fresh eyes. I'll make minor edits to phrasing, add some [more here] and other things just to lengthen scenes that feel a bit too short. If the situation is particularly dire, I'll put brackets around a whole sentence or even paragraphs that I feel need to be re-written, then come back to it at a later time.

Then I'll whittle away at those, and finally once I've gotten rid of all the bracketed sections, I'll paste the whole chapter into google docs and do a grammar/spelling check. After going through all of those and making whatever changes I think are needed, I'm basically done with the chapter. Sometimes I'll come back a few hours later to give it one final check before posting, other times I just want to be done with the chapter and post it straight away (usually the latter).

7. What is your deepest joy about writing?

I like the daydreaming portion of it, where I haven't written anything yet but am convinced it's gonna be great :).

Nah, in all seriousness, there's a lot of little joys in writing for me, but I'd say my favorite is weaving in all the little details and hints that are gonna come back later. The things that start out small, seemingly insignificant, but grow and grow until there’s no way to ignore it. I love those little things that mean everything. They’re like gold bars to me. Small, but heavy, and priceless.

8. If you had to write an entire story without either action or dialogue, which would you choose and how would it go?

Without action. I think I could imply a lot of action in the dialogue, and descriptions and character's thoughts can be used to lengthen the scene, imply pauses, and etc easily enough.

Without dialogue, readers are left with long paragraphs of text that might be difficult to keep track of. Even when I'm writing action-heavy scenes, I try to intersperse some little bits of dialogue or at least markable thoughts that gives a bit of a break from having to visualize everything. I don't think I could write something without dialogue in a way that makes it enjoyable.

16. What’s the weirdest thing you’ve ever used as a bookmark?

I'm not sure - it's usually a business card or receipt that was left in my purse, or the torn-off corner of a piece of paper that was just laying around. In an emergency, I have used another book as a bookmark, but I was planning on coming back to it as soon as I could, so that might not count.

19. Tell me a story about your writing journey. When did you start? Why did you start? Were there bumps along the way? Where are you now and where are you going?

I started when I was a kid. The first thing I wrote was a mcyt fanfiction, but admittedly the plot was kind of good so I might reuse parts of it again. Then I didn't write for a while, but I started getting into mental health stuff and wanted to write stories from the perspective of people with different disorders to try to help destigmatize them (again, I was a kid. I'm now well aware that unless I have those disorders, that's not exactly my place) as well as a few things playing with the concept of time and souls.

I first started putting stories online when my friend got me into a fandom and we created a joint account. It was mostly my friend publishing on there, but I posted a few things, too.

I don’t know how I stopped writing, but I did. Some time just before or during the pandemic. Maybe life got too much. Maybe I just didn’t feel comfortable writing for the new fandom I was in (it involved real people, and I hate writing based off of real people) and couldn’t focus long enough on something I did feel comfortable writing about. I’m not sure.

I think it was Nimona that finally brought me out of that writing slump. I couldn’t get my head out of that world, and it got to the point where the only way I could get out was to write it down. Then of course I went back and started writing for my old fanfics again, and came up with a few ideas for potential original works

[babyarmybabbles]

Run ARMY! (Cooking Part) a2 d3

[Caution: These are not full fics, or even full parts of fics for some, these are part of my writing progress archive!]

Concept: Reader won the opportunity to film a spin off of Run BTS! celebrating the boys return from enlistment, called Run ARMY!, over the course of seven days.

Word Count: 733

Notes: This part takes place way later, towards the end. I wanted Reader to have a nice candid moment with ARMY, bc I love this fandom a lot, y'know? It needs a lot of revision so that it's less rambly and dense, but I'd like to keep the honest and frank atmosphere I've got going on here. It'll probably change a lot by the time I actually get to this part of the fic, but I'll keep something like it in the final product, I'm sure.

Took Inspirations from Run ARMY! series on Tik Tok by _yamanika_ and Guess The Bias! by HelloMyAlien7 on Ao3

Warnings: I don't think there's any?

Masterlist Link <3 | Prev Part Link c: | Next Part Link :D

You crouch down to come face to lens with the camera in the hallway and wave tiredly.

“Hello~” you drawl out in a whisper, giving a small smile, “The boys have treated me to so many yummy Korean foods, so, because this is our last morning before we travel back to Seoul, I am up stupid early,” You pause to pull out your phone to show the glaring 5:15am, as if the pre-dawn lighting wasn’t already evidence enough. “So I make them my family’s traditional pre-travel breakfast feast!” You give a near-silent cheer and jazz hands to the camera before heaving yourself to your feet and ambling your way over to the kitchen.

As you set about gathering up your ingredients and finding your required utensils, you make sure to look around and spot all of the kitchen cameras. You hadn’t really had much purpose in here before, and when you had there were usually camera directors about to be mindful of instead of the mounted cameras you were taking advantage of now.

One of the cameras happens to be angled toward an ideal space to do most of your prep work (probably on purpose) so you point to it and make your way over.

“I don’t like cooking alone.” you tell it in a low, conspiratorial tone. “So you’re gonna be my buddy and listen to me babble.”

That being said you really only whistle lightly to yourself as you finish collecting the ingredients and lay out the stuff for your first dish - a simple fruit salad. When you begin slicing up the first apple, you finally start speaking to the camera as promised.

“Now, I know I’m not one of the members, but I hope ARMY will be fine with whatever this segment looks like anyways,” You start softly, “BTS may be my ult bias group, but ARMY is my ult bias fandom, you know? It might be weird to say as ARMY myself, but I’ve never seen another fandom quite like it.” You take a breath and pause your chopping, flexing your wrists and popping your knuckles while you contemplate.

“ARMY was welcoming from the start, for me.” You continue, “Heck, someone gave me a link for a BTS101 guide at some point! That was actually super helpful, It made catching up with content and understanding memes a lot easier.” you smile at the memory, grateful still to the person who’d given it to you. “It’s a very warm and close community, and very open and accessible to new people. That’s pretty rare, in my experience.”

You switch tracks now, beginning to explain what you’re making even though you’re already halfway done. No one claimed you were a pro at this entertainment stuff. “I’m making a fruit salad right now. It’s easiest to start with because after I put the lemon juice on, i can just put in in the fridge and get it out of the way.” You inform the camera. “My Ma says it’s the most important part of this spread because it lets us pretend any of it is healthy.” You laugh softly at yourself as you dice up your chosen fruits.

You’d been kind of surprised you’d been able to find everything you wanted, given that you weren’t entirely sure which fruits were available in South Korea. There had definitely been a few you’d never seen before when you’d gone shopping, and you were curious to try, but you were going for traditional today so you’d just have to hope you could find them again at an Asian market at home.

You fall into a bit of a daze as you wash fruits, chop them up, and dump them in a bowl on repeat. The silence you fall into is broken only by the occasional whistled tune or soft hum from you. You’re broken from your trance when it’s at long last time to sprinkle in the lemon juice and sugar and stir it all up. You speak to the camera again as you give your arm a workout trying to mix everything.

“If I really wanted to make this how my grandma does, I’d add this mix of cream cheese and whipped topping that she uses. It’s really yummy, but I think it’s a bit too much like desert for today.” You cover the bowl when you’re done and place it in the fridge.