#so i’m living out little 19 year old me’s dreams

[sashimiyas]

i haven’t written anything to the tags in forever

[gyuswhore]

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

Idol!mingyu x makeup-artist!reader

genre: fluff, angst, one sided pining

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

13.4k words (im sorry)

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

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

masterlist

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Makeup over here! We’re taking 5”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

‘Here’

He smiled and gave you a quick ‘thanks’.

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

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

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

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

***

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

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

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

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

***

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

‘Regretfully so’ He feigns sympathy.

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

***

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

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

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

***

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Mingyu has a girlfriend.

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

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

He stops smiling.

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

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

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

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

'No, please, it's not-'

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

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

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

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

1, 2, 3, 4, 5…

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

***

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

***

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

No you don’t.

“I hope so too”

You don’t hope that at all.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Oh. I see.

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

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

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

He knows your coffee order.

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

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

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

***

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

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

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

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

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

[You]: I have a surprise for you.

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

[Mingyu]: Ma’am? 👁👁

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

[You]: *attachment*

[Mingyu]: IS THAT CAKE??

[Mingyu]: omw 😮‍💨

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

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

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

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

“Hi!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Oh, that was a good idea” you say.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Your sputtering trying to think of a response. Deserved.

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

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

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

Oh.

“Oh.”

He blows a raspberry and lets out a meek laugh.

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

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

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

He pauses for a moment before starting.

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

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

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

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

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

He’s silent for a moment.

You start talking after a couple beats.

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

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

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

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

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

He sets his head on your shoulder.

You may have shortcircuited right then and there.

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

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

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

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

***

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[Mingyu]: k thanks

[Mingyu]: be there in like an hour

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He meant platonic like.

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

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

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

You fall back to the adjacent sofa.

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

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

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

“Mingyu, what the fuck?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

***

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

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

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

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

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

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

You’re allowed to feel your emotions.

***

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You snort at the declaration, “Sure, bud”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I have you for that, don’t I”

What the fuckity fuck.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I should put you on song credits for this”

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

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

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

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

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

***

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Offended? What, like I’m wrong?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You choose to nod your head.

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

“Yes, ma’am” You say, hoarse voice.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“But-”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

***

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

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

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

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

You don’t dream for once.

***

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

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

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

Mingyu was outside your door.

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

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

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

“Yeah.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You take a breath before entering the living room again.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What can’t be between us?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You dumbass” You hear him say.

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

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

He loves you.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“That makes me happy”

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

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

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

“That was hot”

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

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

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

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

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

***

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[Mingyu]: Kwan wants to come over

[Mingyu]: something about croissants

[Mingyu]: Should he text you ab it?

[You]: yeah ofc

[You]: I’ll order the butter

[You]: you tell him to text me lol

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

***

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

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

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

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

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

“Lets go”

***

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

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

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

You respond my projecting a cushion to his face.

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

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

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

“MINGYU!”

Needless to say, all was well.

[youandiwerealive]

Wish you could see you through my eyes [rd]

Author’s note: Roommate!Rúben is finally here! I want to thank the anon who dropped this scenario in my inbox because this… changed my life forever 😭 I loved writing this one and I hope my girls enjoy it! Mwah

Warnings: hold tight because this one is intense!! MINORS DNI!! Masturbation, wet dreams, some dirty talk, protected sex (finally), oral sex, multiple orgasms. Let me know if I’m missing something!

wc: 7058 - English is not my first language! Feedback is always appreciated

It’s been three weeks since you’ve moved into the new apartment you will be staying in while you’re at university. The house is small but perfect enough for you and your housemate. His name is Rúben, he told you he is Portuguese when he introduced himself at the welcome party in the beginning of the semester.

You had a house that you shared with two other girls, but since they started some drama with you, you were desperately looking for another place to stay.

“I have a spare room in my house, my old housemate already finished his degree and he moved out” - Rúben said after hearing your story while you’re telling it to some friends that you two had in common - them bringing Rúben along to your group of people. You didn’t have another option, really, so you accepted his offer.

He’s alright, he seems calm and hasn’t been pestering you too much since you moved in, so you’re thankful for that.

You noticed right away that night that he is very interesting in the looks department - silently thanking god to be able to look at him every single day, but you’re not really interested in starting something fiery with your housemate, not wanting that kind of drama inside the house that you will be living in for the next two years.

On the other side, Rúben finds you very interesting as well, his mind is already creating a thousand scenarios where you two could be together, doing some of the most devilish things that can come to his mind.

He doesn’t want to push it right away though, thinking about knowing you better first - completely enticed by you. That shouldn’t be difficult, since you’re both living under the same roof.

Rúben plays football for the university’s team. You can tell that he is very focused on his goals by the way you always see him in the kitchen cooking all his meals, preparing his entire weeks worth of food, instead of acting like the usual 19 year old that would just order some pizza if they didn’t feel like cooking.

You often try to avoid being in the same place as him for too long - feeling a little anxious by the way he looks so dominant and intimidating to you. He is tall, much taller than you obviously, and he uses his free time to work out, having a toned body that would make a lot of guys jealous.

Sometimes, you decide to study in the living room when you’re home alone. When Rúben arrives, you feel the need to immediately pick up your books and go back to your room. He’s nice to you, he’s soft spoken and has a light smile on his face, but you would rather not get too close to him.

You feel small and intimidated by the way he looks at you, feeling like he could set you on fire, your cheeks burning every time you feel his eyes on you.

But you know he’s a caring guy, you can’t forget the way he helped you when you were desperately searching for a place to live, that alone has made you feel eternally grateful to him.

But it’s not just that. It’s the way he’s softly knocking on your room door now, pulling you out of your thoughts and studies. The door slowly opens, and your face turns into a smile once you see his face poking in.

“Sorry to disturb your peace” - he says with a shy smile. “I just thought I could invite you to come have dinner with me in the living room? We could watch a nice movie to get a break from all the studying.”

You look at him, like you’re trying to understand why would he invite you to that.

“I noticed you’ve been here for hours now, too focused studying, and you haven’t eaten yet. Plus I’ve been cooking so maybe I thought you could have a bite? Only if you want to, of course” - he looks at you like he’s begging you to accept his offer.

You smile at him. “What movie are we watching?” - you ask and Rúben lets out a breath that he didn’t knew he was holding.

And that’s how it started. You and Rúben had a routine now: you would have dinner together every night and watch a movie after. That was the only way Rúben found to spend more time with you. He loved hearing you laugh when you were watching comedies, the way you would always ask him a million questions when you were confused about the movie, and how you looked so adorable when you were scared of horror movies. The last one really making him want to hug you tight and cuddle you so he could make you feel safe and protected in his arms.

You’ve started to open up around him more as well, letting your bubbly personality show. You too got used to having his presence around, feeling sad when his football practice would run late and he couldn’t make it in time for dinner and movie night.

At the same time, Rúben didn’t look at you in a normal housemate-type-of-way. Neither did you. The sexual tension was noticeable near the both of you, but you just played pretend, believing that it was all in your head.

Until there’s one night, when you’re in your room studying - after having movie night with your housemate. Everything seemed quiet, little noise could be heard, mainly coming from the street, since your window was open. You kept writing down your notes, until you heard an unusual sound. You froze in place, trying to understand what kind of noise it was and where it came from. Sounds like… a moan? And it sounds like it comes from Rúben’s bedroom - being right next to yours.

You can’t help but blush while you imagine him in such an amended state that he didn’t even notice how loud the moan he'd let escape was.

You start thinking about how thin the walls in your apartment actually are, and remind yourself to be careful while making any type of noise, while you put your headphones on, so you can stop listening to Rúben while he is clearly having “a moment”.

You try not to overthink the sound that you heard coming from him. He’s a boy, after all, you shouldn’t be surprised to know that he was jerking himself off. But that changed the way you saw Rúben.

The next morning, you were having breakfast when you saw your housemate going to the bathroom, ready to take a shower as he took a towel with him.

The water starts running and you notice that he didn’t turn the water heater on. Why was he taking a cold shower?

You wait until he gets out of the bathroom, your eyes immediately glue to the water drops, slowly diving through his toned abs when he comes into vision. The towel was wrapped around his hips, and you can’t help but wonder what would happen if it accidentally fell to the floor.

“You’re staring, you know?” - he laughs cockily, taking you out of your trance.

Your cheeks immediately turn bright red, feeling so embarrassed by that moment.

“Why were you taking a cold shower?” - you ask back with an eyebrow raised at him, erasing the smug smile from his face.

“Oh-” - he stuttered a bit. “You know, it’s good for the muscles and all. Need to be careful, we have an important game coming up” - he told you, unsure of himself and definitely not convincing you.

After that, you take notice of Rúben’s behavior in your shared house, and around you.

You start noticing the times his hand would immediately go to his bulge, when you two were having a movie night. The way he would immediately close his legs when you would get closer to him on the sofa.

When the movie ends, he always goes to his room, and it gets very silent. It’s always unusual when his room is so silent: he is always listening to music, watching some videos, playing games, you name it. It’s only truly silent when he’s asleep, but yet… his light is still on.

It’s always the same routine: dinner, movie, Rúben goes to his room, absolute silence, and after a while, he gets out of his room, goes to the bathroom for a bit and comes back to his room to actually turn the light off and fall asleep, after sending you a good night text - not wanting to knock on your door in case you were already sleeping.

Rúben is unaware that you've noticed his routine. When he goes back to his room, it’s only him and his brain. The way you’re always plastered on the front of his head, the only thing he can think about all day, it was driving him insane. He lays in bed and thinks about how good your touch feels on his arms when you touch him. It’s an innocent and harmless touch, but he can’t stop thinking about how good it would feel on his entire body. He feels goosebumps on his skin when your delicate fingers touch him in such a light way. He loves being close to you, he loves how soft your hair feels on his arm when you lay your head on the sofa, next to his shoulder. He wants to touch you, to feel you.

All these thoughts wrap his head in a knot, and the only thing he can do is feel himself through his shorts.

His hand travels from his abs to his bulge, already growing at the thought of you. He massages his dick through his boxers, lowly whining at the feeling. After teasing himself for a bit, he pushes his underwear down, letting his hard dick spring free from his tight clothes.

He feels how hard he is, how much you fucked up his mind - and how unaware you are of it.

You turn him on. Everything you do. The way you look at him with your eyebrow raised, the way you roll your eyes at his cockiness, the way you laugh at his jokes. The way you make him lose his mind when you appear in the middle of the living room in the morning, looking so beautiful even after waking up, with your pyjamas. He loves the way your pyjama shorts hug your waist, embody your ass and allow your legs to be in full display for him. He loves it. He loves looking at you, he’s always daydreaming about you. He fantasizes about you all the time, he imagines how it would be if you were in his bed with him, right now. How would you react if you saw him touching himself, his cock painfully hard because of you.

His hand is wrapped tightly around his dick, thrusting up and down in a slow motion, not wanting to rush the film that’s going through his head right now. Picturing you doing all kinds of dirty and devilish things with him, thinking about your lips wrapped around his dick while his mouth would devour your pussy, giving you the best hard yet passionate sex you could ever have. His other hand travels behind his neck, helping him get more comfortable as his head is now thrown back, his eyes still shut - dreaming about you. His breath turns erratic as he starts pumping himself harder and faster now, like he is pumping life into his veins and he can’t stop. He growls as he pictures you on top of him, straddling him and jumping on his dick - oh, how he wishes that dream would become reality.

He tries his best not to moan loud at the feeling he’s giving himself and the obscene thoughts he’s having. His mind rushes, silently praying that you would walk through the door and help him chase his orgasm. But just knowing that you’re on the door next to his room, is enough to make his stomach swirl, feeling dirty by doing it while he’s thinking about you, without you even dreaming of it.

He sustains a moan as his hand speeds up, anxious to cum. He finally breathes out when he feels the bubble in his stomach burst. He cums in his stomach, disappointed that he didn’t get to cum anywhere on your body, like he wishes so badly. He grabs a towel and cleans himself before going to the bathroom and quickly shower to get rid of the dirtiness he made - he wishes he could get rid of the thoughts surrounding his head, but that won’t go away with any shower.

He goes to bed, as he feels lighter after hitting his high and falls asleep in a few minutes.

But his mind is always playing tricks on him, even when he is sleeping.

There’s an image splattered on his mind, dreaming about going out with you - on a proper date. You look so beautiful in his dream, wearing a red dress that is making him feel things already. Rúben starts moving on the bed, his waist searching for you, for the way you’re sitting on his lap in his dream. He starts breathing heavily as he pictures you two making out in such a dirty way. He needs that feeling, he desperately can’t wait to put his mouth on you, needy to taste you, to feel you, to devour you.

His dream proceeds, and now you take a seat on his face, gripping on his hair as he eats you out like he’s starving for you. His mind recreates the sound of your moans - how he thinks you would sound like. He feels hot while he’s still in a deep sleep, not wanting to wake up and ruin the scenario. His hands are all over you, holding you still as his tongue plays with your wet pussy. You reach out and start stroking his hard dick before putting him on your mouth. You lay your body on his, completely 69ing each other. He takes the opportunity and slaps your ass - now in full view in front of his eyes.

The feeling he’s having is too much to bear, his dream looking so real right now that it could drive him insane. He wakes up with his alarm ringing - it’s 8 am already. He’s sweaty and hot from the nasty dream he just had. He tries to compose himself, breathing in and out, when his hand goes to his bulge and he gets a sticky sensation. He came in his boxers, during the night - the movie playing in his head being too much for him to hold it in. He sighs, ashamed that he actually had a wet dream like he was still a teenager.

He goes to the shower, his mind still thinking of all the dirty things you two could do together. You’re in the kitchen having breakfast, he saw you before entering the bathroom, so he can’t feed those thoughts any more right now. He needs to get them out of his mind, and his growing dick needs to calm down. So, he decides to take a cold shower, hoping that would ease his heartbeat too.

His days have been like this, it has become a routine already. He’s been having wet dreams with you nearly every night, even after he masturbates before going to sleep. It’s actually driving him insane, but he doesn’t feel brave enough to tell you, to hit on you - he would do it to any other girl, but not to you. You’re different and he feels that in his chest. He doesn’t want to just get you in his bed. He wants you, entirely. He’s falling for you.

“Are you planning on going to Jack’s party tonight?” - you ask Rúben while you two are having lunch together, pulling him out of his thoughts.

“Huh? Oh. Yeah, I think me and boys will show up” - he informs you. “What about you?”

“Me and the girls are going too” - you say with a smirk. - “I’m going to start getting ready after we eat.”

Rúben’s face shows a confused expression now. “Y/N? It’s 1pm. You know the party only starts at 10pm, right?” - he confirms.

“Duh, of course I know that. But I want to look good, and perfection takes time” - you laugh.

“You always look great, you don’t need much” - he confesses, being completely honest with you.

“Yeah but I want to look my best, who knows, I might find a hot guy at the party” - Rúben’s face falls when he hears your words. Yeah, find a cute guy to make out with - one that is not him.

He doesn’t respond and you look at him, trying to read him.

“Hey? What’s up with you? You went mute out of nowhere?” - you question.

“Oh, it’s nothing. I’m just thinking of all the studying I still have to do before the party” - he lies.

You smile at him. “Don’t worry, I bet you’ll find a cute girl too. Maybe someone who studies business too, so you two can have private study sessions and all” - you giggle and Rúben just fakes a smile.

He doesn’t want a girl who studies business, like him. He wants a girl who studies law, who's perfectly balanced, has the beauty and the brains he’s looking for. He didn’t have to search much to find her, since she lives in his house. He just wants you. He's never seen you act like this - you were never the kind of girl to go out every single night, matching Rúben in that matter. You two would only go out once in a while, but he never saw you talking about finding a guy to make out with. You are an extrovert and he loves your bubbly personality, you are always honest with yourself and the others and you always say what’s going on in your mind and in your heart.

His heart drops and his chest hurts, thinking about how oblivious you are of his feelings towards you. It’s not your fault, obviously, he doesn’t have the nerve to confess his love for you and that’s all on him. He feels down for the rest of the afternoon, trying his best to focus on studying, but he just feels so disappointed at himself, for not having the courage to ask you out. He can’t bear the thought of you making out with some other dude, so he just prays that you two would go different ways at the party, and not see each other again until you get home.

While you were choosing the perfect outfit to go out, you called your best friend. She keeps insisting that Rúben is a hot dude and that you should enjoy the time you spend alone with him at home more.

“Is Rúben your pair for tonight’s party? Are you two gonna dance with your bodies glued to each other?” - your friend asks on the other side of the line, you know she really means it.

“Of course not. He will be with his friends and I will be with you girls. Plus, I already told you that I don’t think that messing with him is a good idea. We live together and I don’t want to lose my room again” - you try to reason with her.

“What if you mess with him and things turn out alright? You’d still lose your room, only to move in to his own” - your best friend really tries to convince you that having sex with your housemate is actually a good idea.

“Girl, that’s not even a thing. Nuh uh, that won’t happen” - you firmly decline.

“Just admit that you fancy him, please! This is getting tiring already” - she notes.

After some moments of silence, you decide to give in. “Of course I think he’s crazy hot, I have two eyes on my face that see him walking around the house wearing only some shorts” - you remember. “But I think he fancies someone else. I’ve heard him moaning once, he was probably touching himself… and I’ve noticed that his routine has been a little strange lately” - you continue speaking on the phone.

“Oh my god! Hearing your housemate touching himself is actually insane! God he’s so fucking hot Y/N, I would die to hear him moaning” - your friend loses herself in her dialogue, too focused on picturing Rúben in the scenario that you just described to her.

“Babe, just stop, please. I literally just told you that I think he likes someone else” - you answer, your mood drowning a bit by imagining him with another girl.

“How do you know that, bitch? He’s probably jerking himself off to the thought of you, duh! You’re beautiful as fuck and you’re working your ass off to become a successful lawyer, you have the beauty and brains bestie, I would be surprised if that man didn’t fall for you” - she calls you out, and her words echo in your head.

Could there be a small chance of Rúben fancying you? Your heartbeat accelerates by just thinking of it, you don’t have the courage to face the guy who you share your house with, and confess how hot you think he is, and how much it tortures you to see him walking through the house with just a towel wrapped around his waist. There’s no way you can actually do that, so you would rather just find a random guy that seems decent enough for you to flirt with him and get some action, even if it’s just some kisses.

You asked Rúben if he could wait for you to keep you company on the way to the party, not really feeling like walking in the middle of the night all by yourself. He can’t say no to you, so he was in the living room waiting for you, and his jaw dropped when he saw you. You looked so gorgeous, wearing a red dress like the one he saw you with in his dreams - could this be a sign or something? Rúben doesn’t believe in any of that, so he just shrugs his thoughts away, and looks at how beautiful you look.

“You look stunning” - he says with a shy smile.

You smile back at him. “You look hot as well. I bet hundreds of girls will beg you to get in their pants” - you laugh, trying to hide your feelings and Rúben doesn’t say anything. Instead, he just talks about how you two should get going.

Once you two arrive at the party, you and Rúben split, you decide to go meet your girls while Rúben joins his football team members.

Through the night, both you and Rúben act similar, even if you’re not by each other’s side. The two of you decide to have some drinks to cool down from the anxiety forming in your stomachs.

You feel anxious so you try to have some fun and really find a cute guy who could make out with you for a while. You don’t go out every weekend, but now you feel needy and desperate to take some risks.

Rúben feels anxious because he knows what you’re looking for tonight. And it pains him that he’s not the guy you’re looking for. You could have him, all of him. He would do anything for you, he would never turn you down, and yet, he’s not the one you’re looking for.

You both take a couple rounds of shots with your friends, mixing beer with other drinks that you don’t ever know what they actually are.

When Rúben decides to go back to the bar to grab another drink, he freezes at the sight in front of him. He catches you kissing a random guy he’s never seen in his life, his hands driving through your hips, getting dangerously close to your ass, while his tongue is entirely inside your mouth.

He feels his blood boiling right now, closing his firsts in a ball, clenching his jaw, unable to control his anger at what he’s watching. He turns away and exits the party, leaving you behind with your newfound “friend” and your activities.

Rúben gets home quickly, his feet moving fast by the way his anger is fuelling his entire body now. He knew damn well that you were trying to find a fling at that fucking party, the only thing he silently begged was for you to spare him, so he didn’t have to see you with another guy that wasn’t himself.

He enters his room, slamming the door behind him, trying to find a way to alleviate the strong feeling in his chest.

He is sad, disappointed and he hates what he saw. Rúben is a possessive guy, and jealousy is all he can feel right now, wanting to punch that prick's face. It should be him that you were kissing, not a random dude.

His breathing itches when his mind starts making up scenarios of potential things that could happen once you get home. Would you go to his room, searching for him? Maybe you would tell him how much you regret kissing that boy. Maybe you two would finally confess your feelings to each other? Rúben feels so jealous now that he just wants to show you how he could be everything you need and more. He wants you to regret kissing another boy when you could have kissed him instead all this time.

He goes back to his routine, maybe having a release would help him remove all the tension on his body right now. He lays on his bed, taking deep breaths as his bulge is already aching in his pants. He quickly removes his clothes, not in the mood to take it nice and slow. He’s angry, jealous, fuming at the thought of you with someone else.

He anxiously touches himself, already feeling the protruding veins in his cock and stroking himself fast, imagining how sex would feel like if he was punishing you after what you did. How you would moan and sigh when he would fill you up, roaming inside of you, feeling your wet and warm pussy around his cock, your juices mixing up with his already.

His hand works fast and hard on his dick, he doesn’t control himself as he starts moaning loudly at the feeling - he was sure that he was home alone, you would probably still be at that stupid party, or even in that guy’s bed already.

His mind went blank at how excruciatingly hard his dick is in his hand, precum already dripping down his shaft.

You walk inside the house, stumbling a bit on your own feet, feeling a little tipsy because of the few drinks you had at the party. Your chest feels heavy, you truly feel guilty after kissing a random guy while Rúben was the only one in your mind the entire time. You should have gained the courage to talk to him, to shoot your shot. When you realized that he had already left the party, you immediately went home to find Rúben - praying that he actually decided to go home.

But he doesn’t hear the door open, too lost in his thoughts and sounds, absolutely enticed by his moment. You walk inside the house and hear him moaning - your heart sinking at the thought of him actually having another girl over.

You carefully walk through the corridor, getting closer to his bedroom door. His sounds get louder and more consistent, and you stop next to his door, trying to understand if he’s alone or with someone else.

The way you only hear Rúben moaning and breathing heavily, makes you realise that he’s alone - probably touching himself like crazy. The thought of being so close to him while he’s jerking off is enough to make your legs weak, already feeling your pussy throbbing at how erotic he sounds. The alcohol in your blood was already making you feel brave enough to talk to him about how you feel, but hearing him groaning at the way he’s touching himself… that is definitely making you desire him like crazy. You need him, you want him, and you’re going to shoot your shot.

You decide to open the door to his bedroom, your hand shaking as you turn the handle open. Your eyes land on Rúben, sprawled on his bed, with his hand tightly wrapped around his hard cock. He stops stroking his dick momentarily when he sees you, his mouth slightly agape, shocked and slightly embarrassed that you’re in his room, seeing him like this. But he’s also feeling brave tonight, and he starts stroking his dick again while he makes eye contact with you.

You share a look in silence, eye fucking each other at this point. His hand doesn’t stop moving in his dick, but it starts slowing down as you walk closer to him.

“I was looking for you” - you breathe out.

“Oh yeah? Did your friend turn you down after shoving his tongue in your throat?” - he answers bitterly.

“No… I just wish it was your tongue exploring my mouth, instead of his” - you confess while sitting in his bed, next to him.

You could see the sparks in his eyes igniting at your words, and he stays silent, trying to think of the right thing to say.

Your index finger carefully travels through your bodies, sliding up his dick, gathering his juices in your tip. You open your mouth, placing your finger inside and sucking on it, tasting how Rúben feels hot and sweet at the same time.

He groans at the sight in front of him and completely loses it. He grabs your face and finally kisses you hard and passionately, his tongue now fighting for dominance with yours, exploring every corner of your mouth - like he was supposed to all along.

You move so you’re now straddling him, your dress already pulled up, while Rúben’s hands discover your body. You can’t stop kissing each other, needing the other one so badly, making out in a dirty and raw way, with saliva already dripping down your chin. You moan into his mouth as you grind your hips on his dick, the thin fabric of your panties being the only thing separating you two right now.

He pulls your dress off of your body, admiring you and kissing every inch of skin that his lips could find as his hands keep travelling your body. He looks at you shocked when his lips find your boobs and he realizes you have a nipple piercing - something he never even imagined you could have, and it’s doing wonders to his mind. You smirk at his reaction and pull his head between your tits more, encouraging him to play with the metal piece between your nipple.

His mouth wraps around your nipple, sucking on it while his tongue draws circles around it. Rúben is desperate to touch you, he needs to feel you, he needs to make sure that you are real, that you are really here with him, naked in his bed like he’s been dreaming all this time.

“Do you know for how long I have been dreaming about this?” - he says, breathless from all the kissing.

“Oh, is that right?” - you say seductively, as you keep moving your core against his hard dick.

“Fuck, I’ve been dying to kiss you since I first met you. I’ve been having these fucking wet dreams about touching you like some horny teenager. I want you so badly, Y/N” - he confesses, his hands secured on your hips.

“Oh, yeah?” - you say as you get up from your spot on his lap.

You take off your panties slowly, without never breaking eye contact with Rúben, putting on a show for him.

He looks at you hungrily, like he’s already devouring you in his mind.

“Let me give you a taste of what you’ve been missing, baby boy” - you say as you sit on his face.

Rúben’s tongue is already working on you, licking your folds like a cat. Your hand immediately wraps on his hair, as the other goes to help you hold yourself up against the headboard. You moan at the vibrations his mouth sends through your body, unable to control your sounds.

You grind your pussy on his face, completely riding his mouth now, and you moan breathlessly at the way his tongue devours you while his nose keeps hitting your clit on purpose, making you shake with a crazy amount of pleasure.

You notice Rúben’s reaction to your moans, as his hand leaves your hip and wraps around his dick, still painfully hard from being so turned on and not getting a release. He starts pumping himself while he eats you out, you look back to see the sight and moan at the view. You can’t stop thinking about how you two look like a recreation of a movie, looking so erotic and needy for each other.

His lips wrap around your clit now, sucking on it and making you scream out of pleasure. The way he’s devouring your cunt makes it almost unbearable for you to hold your orgasm inside, and seeing the way he is touching himself like crazy to you, makes the bubble in your stomach burst. You cum on his face, riding him more to chase your high, the feeling he’s providing you being unmatched to anything you’ve felt before.

Rúben moans underneath you, his mouth still on your pussy, collecting all your juices in his tongue, tasting you entirely. His hand speeds up and he cums some minutes after as well, groaning at the feeling of finally having a release. You get up from your seat on his face, allowing him to breathe properly now, his nose, mouth and chin drenched in your cum. The sight of Rúben lying under you, still tasting your juices and his stomach dirty with his own cum, was enough to make your cunt throb again, wanting to feel him more.

“You taste insanely delicious” - Rúben says in a hazy state, completely high off you.

“Better than in your dreams?” - you tease him with a smirk.

“Fuck, way better. I can’t believe this is actually real” - he laughs, still trying to catch his breath.

“I need to feel you, Ruby” - you say in a needy voice, using his favorite pet name that he told you about in one of your conversations.

He takes a condom out of his bedside table, kissing you again passionately as he wraps it on his dick - already hard again, you being an absolute menace to his libido. Rúben lays you on the bed, towering over you now, as he looks at you with love and fire in his eyes. You wrap your arms around his shoulders, hugging him tightly next to you while you wrap your legs around his hips. He kisses you sweetly and carefully before slowly entering you. You both moan into each other’s mouth, still kissing with your bodies glued now.

He thrusts slowly into you, wanting to take his time and enjoy all the feelings he’s getting from this moment with you.

You moan when he fills you up nicely and easily, not really believing this is happening either.

“You feel so good, baby, fuck” - he groans into your ear as his mouth is now leaving kisses on your neck. You pet his hair gently, not really having words to describe the energy and the connection between you and your housemate.

“I need more, Rubes, please” - you beg him to go faster, needing to cum again on his dick now.

Your wish is his command, he could never say no to you. He picks up the pace, going faster inside of you right now, leaving open mouth kisses on your nipple again - the piercing still driving him insane.

“Fuck, you’re so good Rubes, you fuck me so good” - you breathe while your nails scratch his back at the sensations he’s providing you.

The sounds coming from your wet pussy fill the room, along with the moans and heavy breaths that you two share.

Rúben feels your walls clenching around him, and his thumb goes to play with your swollen clit, his dick now roaming inside of your cunt, desperate to cum again too.

He could lose all his composure just by listening to your sounds, going crazy at the way you feel so wet and warm, your cunt desperately clenching around his dick. Plus, you look so beautiful to him, your eyes rolling to the back of your head out of pleasure, while he hears you moaning so erotically and whispering incoherent words, completely fucked out of your mind. He loves knowing that he’s the one making you feel like this, giving you this much pleasure. He can’t stop feeling cocky at the way his girl is sprawled on his bed, begging him to fuck her harder and faster so she can cum on his cock.

His thumb doesn’t stop bullying your puffy clit and you can’t hold it any longer.

“I’m not gonna last, Rub-“ - you cry out, the pleasure being unbearable right now.

“Cum for me, baby girl. Cum on my cock, I need to feel you cumming around me” - the dirty talk could send you straight to heaven.

And your body obeys. You cum, moaning his name over and over again, your pussy pulsating around his dick, encouraging him to cum as well. After a few more strokes, Rúben fills his condom with his seed, breathing heavily at the feeling you both just shared. He collapses on top of you, his head now buried on your neck, leaving sweet kisses on your skin as you both try to catch your breaths.

You hug him tightly, not really knowing what to say, and you both stay like this, enjoying each other’s touch. Soon, you both fall asleep, the alcohol in both of your bloods and the tiredness from the previous events knocking the two of you out in a matter of minutes.

The next morning, you wake up wrapped in Rúben’s arms. You feel safe, protected, it feels right. The sun is shining, warming up your face and Rúben slightly moves in his place, pulling you closer to him.

“Good morning” - he says in his deep morning voice.

“Hey” - you say back with a smile. He kisses your shoulder while hiding his face in your neck, taking in your scent, not believing that last night was real, not wanting to let you go out of his embrace.

You turn around so you’re facing him now. The two of you giggle at each other like true teenagers who just fell in love.

His hand goes to caress your cheek sweetly, looking at you with all the love in the world.

“Hope you don’t regret last night” - he says honestly.

“The only thing I regret from last night is kissing another random guy, instead of kissing you earlier” - you confess with a smirk on your lips.

He laughs softly at your words.

“How could I regret anything? Really, I only regret not knocking on your door sooner… I’ve been thinking about you a lot for the past weeks” - you continue speaking.

“Well, guess we can say that I’ve literally been dreaming about you a lot” - he says with a laugh, his cheeks turning a bright shade of red now.

“I had a dream of us going out on a cute date” - you tell him, reaching out to give him a gentle kiss on the lips.

“Really?” - he looks surprised that you’ve been feeling the same way as him for the last couple of weeks. “I guess I should turn that dream into reality, then” - he kisses your hand lovingly.

“I would love that… I’ve been trying to shut my feelings out for you, I didn’t want to mess with my housemate and end up without a place to sleep, again” - you confess.

“I don’t think that’s gonna happen” - he says with a soft smile. “I’ve been hypnotized by you since the first time I saw you, Y/N… it’s been killing me to drown in my feelings all the time because I didn’t have the courage to confess how I felt towards you. I am in love with you, I really am. I think you’re the most beautiful, caring, funny and intelligent girl I’ve ever met. We get along so well that I can’t stop thinking about how I want this forever. I want our movie nights forever, I want to take you on cute dates, I wanna share this house with you without having to hide away from you, literally when I have a boner because of you, or emotionally when I feel jealous or like choking on my feelings because I wanted to blurt them out and I couldn’t. I don’t wanna hide anymore. This is me, with my good parts and my bad parts as well, and there's nothing more I want than for you to take me as I am. Because I for sure will take you as you are, through the good and the bad, I want to have you by my side forever, as I promise you to always be by your side as well” - he breathes after finally letting his feelings show.

You smile widely and kiss him once again.

“It’s hard not to fall for you, Rubes, I wish you could see you through my eyes” - you kiss him again, unable to stop. You can’t believe you have Rúben all to yourself.

You two start making out again, smirking at each other and giggling between kisses.

“I just hope you want more amazing sex like the one we had last night” - you wink at him as your hand is already palming his dick, hungry for him once again.

“You’re gonna be the death of me” - he sighs as you two wrap yourselves between Rúben’s bed sheets again, truly on cloud nine from finding out that love can actually be closer than you think. In this case, it was under the same roof, right next door.

[onthecrescentofthehill]

g1deon and pyrrha + gideon and harrow throughlines scattered in all of tlt continue to drive me insane.

the initial investigation scenes post the 5th deaths where the 2nd house tries to pull cohort rank control of the situation, gideon & harrow immediately sneak away to learn that the winnowing trial was developed by the second house and cohort founders, g1deon & pyrrha. winnowing as incorporating the other, refusing distractions for the sake of true control, loyalty and duty.

gideon is wearing his sunglasses, rifling through their things. she doesn’t see it as a real place someone would live in, only a stop along the way to somewhere else, more whole.

she sees a gun on the wall that her mother's ghost will use the river memory of to try and kill harrow in the dream of cannan house:

It took Gideon a long time to realise that she was looking at something goddamn ancient: it was a blowback carbine gun. She’d only ever seen pictures. ….. The hairs on the back of Gideon’s neck had risen when the lights came on, and they hadn’t gone back down, as if her intrusion might well tempt time back to claim its grave goods. GTN chapter 19

Carbine rifle, read the key. For a moment she pitied Judith Deuteros’s last seconds. To be killed with this ancient piece of grave goods! It would have been like being set upon by a ghost out of time. HTN chapter 18

gideon reads "one flesh, one end" for the first time. she tells harrow these people were living in each others pockets, the same phrase she'll later use to describe the two of them. pyrrha spent nearly 10,000 years locked in a drawer in gideon the first’s mind bc he couldn't bear to let her go. gideon tells harrow how they feel like strangers despite growing up together.

harrow cant stand the thought and in less than a month harrow will lock gideon in a drawer and gideon the first will relentlessly try to kill harrow in her waking hours to spare her the agony he'll never learn is closely parallel to his, and when she fails to hear his real name her brain starts bleeding:

And he had said: “Ortus, have pity.”

“This is my pity, Lord,” said the Saint of Duty. HTN chapter 20

g1deon was john’s oldest friend, he carried that suitcase in his loyalty to him. then he becomes an amnesiac, immortal thanergy void, absorbing and nullifying the echoes of that catastrophe. founding the cohort that flips planets in the exact mirror to the ecological tragedy they all sacrificed everything to spare earth from. over and over again.

He didn’t even ask me to explain. That was the kind of guy he was. He and I had grown up on the same street. I’d spotted him for mince pies all the time as kids, so stands to reason he let me cut off his arm and carried a nuke for me. John 1:20

in g+p’s room harrow says that theyre all the ninth house has ( = you’re all that i have). gideon firmly says shes "NO ONE'S son or daughter"

but in less than a year gideon’s mother, sitting opposite her father, will recognize pyrrha with a sense of profound relief before her revenant is unceremoniously killed. gideon will watch through harrows eyes, in hiding:

Harrow, I will never forget the look on her face as long as I live, or as long as I die. (…) It was the smile for your old cellmate who’d just landed back in prison, the one that told them at least you were in it together—or more correctly, the smile of someone stepping out of jail after serving a very long sentence, having seen someone there waiting for her. Someone whose presence meant total reprieve, someone she hadn’t expected. It was a little bit mocking. It was deeply relieved. HTN chapter 50

i don’t have a conclusion to this rn i’m just……much to think abt. the displacement of grief, the loyalty through control, how it just happens over and over and over again and they just bear witness as tools or trapped souls or revenants, clinging to anything they can even if they don’t remember it.

[shiftwithjane]

what i scripted in my modern stranger things DR

i smell vanilla and bacon when i know i’m in my DR/when i arrive

i’m social media famous/an influencer in my DR {look it’s always been my dream to be an influencer, so don’t judge me okay}

my dad is an NBA player and has been since 2003, and he plays for the Indiana Pacers, and my mom is just a stay at home mom

since my dad is in the NBA he makes a shit ton of money, so my family is extremely rich HAHA

that i make a lot of money doing social media

i have a four year old brother

scripted that my family and i moved to hawkins the summer before my 6th grade year, and that eddie and i were in the same grade, but i graduated in 2022 and he didn’t (obviously, he is in his third senior year currently like in the show)

i used to babysit the kids with nancy when they were really little, like when will and mike were 6 lol. i continued to babysit them with nancy until we both got really busy with school and other things, but we did it every now and then, and then steve took on the role (we love mama steve!! but we helped out too, but he kinda became the main one)

i scripted that nancy and i used to play DnD with the kids when were little, but then stopped once I got to high school and became super busy and nancy stopped when i stopped.

that the byers still live in hawkins and they never moved to california (and they don’t plan on it)

that hopper and joyce’s relationship is like it is in season 3 right now

that hopper looks like he does in season 3 in my DR {i know he clearly doesn’t look like that in season 4, but whenever i imagine hopper, it’s season 3 hopper}

that argyle moved to hawkins to live with his uncle for a fresh start his sophomore year (i said this because he told jonathan he was his only friend in season 4 and it made me so sad :( so i scripted that’s why he moved to hawkins for a fresh start)

that nancy, robin, jonathan, and argyle are all seniors and 18. steve is 19, and eddie is 20.

that starcourt mall is there, and it will never get burned down.

that steve and robin still work at scoops ahoy, because there are like no family videos anymore, and with it being 2024 and having all these streaming platforms there is no reason for a video rental store yk? i’m still debating if i want them to wear their sailor uniforms, or just script they wear a company shirt and still wear the hat, but they can wear jeans and stuff😭

that angela moved to hawkins for her dad’s job and goes to hawkins high so i can rip her ass a new one🤪 {i would like to see her TRY and get me arrested}

that my uncle is the hawkins high varsity basketball coach {i’m gonna introduce y’all to my family in my DR and it will make since once you see them lol}

i live in loch lora {aka the rich neighborhood in hawkins}

that hawkins will never be put in danger

that the upside down doesn’t exist, and it will never exist alongside none of the creatures and monsters from the upside down existing

following up on two things above, anything that has to do with the plot will not happen, because i’m not planning on shifting for the plot of the show, because that shit is honestly so scary, and i would be petrified

that argyle will work for another pizzeria since he is on the east coast and there is no surfer boys pizza

that i’m 5’7 {i’m really 5’4}

that i have my ideal body in my DR {disclaimer, it’s just a couple of things that i wish were different in my CR. like for example, i have a flatter stomach, but bigger boobs, and a bigger butt LOL. i’m working out so i’m in the process of getting my ideal body in my CR so i thought having it in my DR would be motivation when income back here. i know this topic can be controversial, but i just wanted to clarify}

i do not have a celebrity face claim, i’m just myself (no hate to anyone who does!)

i’m best friends with all my favorite influencers

that i moved to los angeles full time with my family after i graduated, and now we are back in hawkins because my dad’s NBA contract expired with the lakers and he got offered to come back to the pacers, so he took it, but i still travel back and forth a lot between the two.

that i have naturally straight hair {it’s have naturally curly, and it’s a pain in the ass}

that eddie and wayne live in a nicer, two bedroom trailer

that eddie works at a record/music shop in town, and that he also busses tables at the hideout. (and sells drugs like in the show for the extra cash) {the bussing tables comes from flight of icarus, but i scripted he gets paid for it unlike in the book. i also haven’t finished his book, but so far i have chosen what i want to believe is canon}

i will be making a intro to my DR family, and some of the stuff will make since for who they are if you have seen the show :)

i will also be making my part 3 to my DR bedroom today, so be on a lookout for that. sorry for that one being late, i went to the dentist again thursday for more fillings and i did not feel like posting afterwards. this is just a little filler, but i will make more post like this on what i have scripted, because that’s what did really well on my old shifting account on tiktok but i can’t get back into that :(

*i script on notion*

[adventuresinobx]

The Advocate - Chapter 1

AU Rafe Cameron x fem!reader

Summary: Rafe Cameron looks like he has it all. He’s 32, has a great job as a lawyer and what seemed like the perfect marriage. Only it wasn’t behind closed doors and now he’s in the middle of a divorce, forced to return to his hometown in the Outer Banks. Back where it all began, with all the bad memories, can one resident help him get his life back together or will he slip into old habits?

A/N: Sooo here it is! Chapter one of a new AU Rafe fic! @starkeyobx and I have been throwing ideas around for this and I think we both love how it came out. 💕

Warnings: Very light hints of controlling (not Rafe being controlled / doing the controlling), Rafe struggling a little emotionally.

It had been years since Rafe Cameron had made it back to the Outer Banks. His family still lived here - and a few of his old friends - but life had just got in the way. Firstly there was his job, then he met the woman of his dreams, and well, he just never seemed to be able to make it back to North Carolina. His life moved on, and he wondered whether the others had got out of here too.

He turned the corner sharply, his flashy 2022 plate Tesla screeching as he made his way through The Cut and into Figure Eight. This had been his stomping ground for years, but returning to this town, he felt more out of place than ever. He was 19 when he walked out of here to study law and he never looked back, and whilst everything looked the same, it looked different too.

When he walked out at 19, he had needed the new start. His older teenage years had been plagued by his drug addiction, him desperate to hurt himself after causing so much pain to his first love. He broke her heart and so he felt something had to give too, and his addiction was a way for him to cope with what he had done. He couldn’t save her from the pain so he decided to cause his own.

He had been clean for 12 years, nine months and 16 days now. Something he always reminded himself of in bad times. He just hoped being back in his hometown wouldn’t skew his hard fought progress.

His thoughts were interrupted by the sound of his phone going off; it was his assistant from the New York office of his legal firm, where he had his base for years, but now he was being forced to move back to the Outer Banks, no longer able to support his own luxury lifestyle in New York and that of his soon to be ex-wife’s too.

“Yep, hi,” he said rather sharply, as he answered the phone and quickly swerved to avoid hitting a chicken that had escaped from one of the Pogues’ gardens nearby, “Talk to me.” There was a moment of silence before he heard a voice the other end of the phone.

“Uh hello Mr Cameron. Lovely to finally speak to you,” the voice came through the phone. She was obviously new and trying to impress. “It’s Maria here, from the office in New York. It’s about your case, do you have time to talk? I’m just finalising your paperwork for the Williams and Garcia case. It’s all come through from the court now.”

“Yep go on, please,” he said, listening as she double checked a few details with him. He pulled up at some traffic lights, tapping his fingers against the wheel as he waited for them to change from red to green, surveying the crossroads in front of him. It was then he spotted someone he knew very well.

“Maria is that all you need from me today?” he asked, desperate to wrap up the phone call, as she told him it was. “That’s great, thank you love, thanks for doing that. Call me if you need anything else from me. Bye, bye.”

The lights went green and Rafe swerved across the other lane to pull up next to the sidewalk.

“Top, hey Topper,” he shouted, jumping out the car and heading over to his friend he hadn’t seen in years.

“Rafe?” he said, surprised to see him back in Figure Eight after so long. “Hey buddy, how have you been?” His daughter stood there close by, waiting to be introduced and Rafe immediately made a fuss of the little one, kneeling down to her level to say hello.

“And who’s this? Hi princess,” he said, smiling at the shy little girl who was holding her daddy’s hand and swinging the edge of her dress nervously.

“Eden, this is your uncle Rafe,” he said, introducing his little girl to his best friend. Him and Topper had spoke a few times over the years, but they had fallen out of contact for the last couple. It wasn’t like anything had changed in their friendship though, it was like jumping back into old habits and old times straight away. Life has just got in the way, as it always seemed to do.

“Hi sweetheart, how are you today?” he asked the little girl, her looking back at her dad unsure whether she should approach the stranger.

“Go on, it’s ok,” Topper said, lightly tapping his daughter’s shoulder and she took that as a sign it was all ok and made a few steps towards him.

“Hey princess, so nice to finally meet you. I only saw you on FaceTime a few times when you were a little baby, and now you’re so grown,” he said in a cute singsong voice. “How old are you now?”

“Three,” she said, beaming at him, “And did you know I have a little brother on the way? Then I will be a big sister and I get to boss him around.” Rafe looked up at Topper, shocked at her words; he had no idea him and Amelia were expecting another baby.

“Top, another one?” he said excitedly, standing up to give his friend a congratulatory hug. Seeing her dad hug Rafe must have made Eden more comfortable too and she moved closer to hug Rafe’s leg.

“Oh Eden come here,” he said, pulling away from Topper and lifting the little girl up and sitting her on his hip, “How about a group hug eh?” The little girl nodded excitedly and stretched her arms out and around Rafe’s neck, holding onto him tightly like her life depended on it.

“What brings you back to the Outer Banks then?” Topper asked, rubbing his daughter’s back reassuringly as he clung onto Rafe, excited to be seeing the world from a different perspective now she was in the arms of someone who was 6 foot 4 in height.

“Life,” Rafe said and Topper instantly realised it wasn’t the best thing for him that he was back. “I’ll fill you in some other time, but me and Grace have, you know, consciously uncoupled. Is that what they call it now?” There was almost a hint of laughter in his voice, probably masking the pain that he felt that his relationship hadn’t worked out now they had both hoped.

“Oh I’m sorry man,” Topper said, taking Eden off him and resting her on his hip. She grimaced at the sudden change in height; she was about eight inches lower down in the world now. Topper patted his friend’s shoulder in a reassuring way. “But it’s nice to have you back here. Maybe we should grab a beer sometime?”

Even after all this time, it was like they were back to the old times. Just older now with kids (well on Topper’s part) and life behind them.

“A beer sounds great Top, still on the same number?” Rafe asked and Topper nodded in response.

“Same house too, my parents have moved out to be closer to my Aunty, so yeah, we have the family home now,” he said, “You should come over sometime; come and see Amelia and bump. We could go take a boat on the river, for old times’ sake.”

“Sounds awesome, I’ve gotta go, but give Millie my love,” he said, before putting his arms out and bagsying one last cuddle with Eden. “I’ll see you soon princess,” he said, his voice going back into that singsong variety as she excitedly hugged him goodbye.

“Bye Uncle Rafey,” she shouted back, waving excitedly, after he handed her back over to Topper. Rafe smiled to himself as he walked back to his car; maybe being home wasn’t going to be too bad after all.

**

He was two streets away from the family home of Tannyhill when he saw Y/N for the first time. She was almost ethereal; like an angel sent from above. Nothing like the women he had encountered in New York.

Her summer dress hugged her perfectly, it floating along with her which made her seem like she was walking on clouds. He admired how beautiful she was, even from afar. It had been a long time since he felt that way about any woman; the last time was when he had met Grace.

She was beautiful. A goddess was the wrong way to describe her but it’s the only word he could manage to think of. There was something about her that drew him to her and even though she was physically long gone now, he couldn’t get her out of his mind. As he turned into the drive of his family’s home, he shook his thoughts of his mystery woman and tried to focus on the here and now.

Rose and Ward were there to greet him when he drove up to the front doors of the house. Smiles on their face as they waved at him and Rose excitedly rushed to hug him. He was ready for that line - the one everyone said now that he and Grace had split. As he stepped out the car, he prepared himself for it - and it came almost instantly.

“How you holding up son?” Ward asked, hugging him reassuringly. And then came Rose with the other line he had heard so many times over the past month.

“It gets better Rafe, I promise,” she said.

He was so tired of those two phrases, but he managed to brush them off, instead turning the conversation over to the two of them and how they were doing. He asked about Sarah, who had moved to South Carolina with her boyfriend, and Wheezie, who was at college now, as he settled back into his life in the Outer Banks.

They all sat down in the kitchen, catching up about life - but Rafe tried not to mention too much about the divorce. Frankly, it was all a bit raw - and anyway his mind was on that woman he had seen. He couldn’t get her out of his head. He felt almost drawn to her.

“I know you said not to make a fuss, but you’re our only son, and it’s a privilege having you at home,” Ward began over the table as they all sipped fruity tea from perfect china tea cups, “So we’re organised a little welcome home party tonight. Some of the neighbours are coming and then there’s your friends. You know Topper, Kelce, um.” He paused. “Yeah it’ll be good.”

“Oh I saw Top today, in town, he didn’t mention it,” he mused as Ward had explained it was meant to be a surprise, but “you’re not 16 years old anymore son”.

“Dad, that’s kind of you, but I don’t need a happy divorce party,” Rafe added, confused on why everyone had to make a big deal of his split, tell him it was all going to be ok, the usual. If there’s one thing Rafe hated, it was a pity party. He dealt with divorces every day of his life. This, apart from being his, was no different at all.

**

Rafe was sat upstairs in his old bedroom, it still exactly the same as the day he left. He wondered how it ever went so wrong; how he ended up going from being such a successful lawyer to now living back with his parents with a failed marriage under his belt.

19-year old Rafe would have been happy he made it through the last few years, but 32-year-old Rafe was just disappointed this is how it all ended. He had dreamt of a great job, falling in love, marrying the girl of his dreams, buying a dream house with her, maybe even starting a family one day. That wasn’t to be, for now at least.

But if there’s one thing Rafe Cameron was good at, it was fronting. He was great at that and as his dad called him downstairs for the party, that’s exactly what he planned to do. Front like his life depended on it.

“Coming,” he shouted back, feeling like he was 16 again as he responded to his dad’s call. He paused for a second, stopping to fix his shirt in the mirror, smoothing it down. He didn’t have his life together, but he wanted it to seem like he had. Desperately wanted it all to look ok, even if it wasn’t. It would be. It would be.

Downstairs, he did exactly as he planned. Said hello to the Smiths - some of the elderly neighbours - listened as they told him he would “get her back soon”. He stayed quiet, his hand balling into his fist beside him as he tried to brush off all the anger he felt. Inside he was fuming, externally he looked like the most relaxed man on the planet. Fronting, that’s what he had planned to do.

He managed to excuse himself after a few minutes, heading towards the house for a brief moment of calm before everyone started arriving. His mind was in overdrive already, and it was made worse when he saw a big sign hung by the back doors, which read “Welcome home son”. Like cmon, why did this have to be such a big thing? It was normal, happened to everyone. He saw it happen in front of his eyes every single -

“Oh shit, I’m so sor-,” he said, taking a step back, shaking his head in confusion, before looking up at the person he had just collided into. It was her.

He recognised her almost instantly. The girl on the sidewalk. The aura surrounding her was even more powerful now she was up close, smoothing her dress as he finally realised he had almost spilt his drink on her. He couldn’t speak, words failing him as he tried to mutter out another sorry, apologise for being so clumsy.

Say something, Rafe. Say anything. Speak.

“Did I hurt you?”

Ok don’t say that, that doesn’t even make sense.

“No you’re fine, you must be Rafe. Ward’s told us a lot about you. I’m sorry to hear about what happened.” This was not the first impression he wanted to leave.

“Hi nice to meet you,” he said, putting out his hand to shake hers, “I’m Rafe - Rafe Cameron - but uh you know that already so that’s uh pointless for me to say.” He paused, thinking what was best to say next. “Your name, um, yeah, so what’s your name?”

“Y/N,” she replied, taking his hand in his. She shook it, her grip strong but not too iron fisted. The moment their hands met, he felt like sparks were flying off each of his fingers. She must have felt it too, he thought, as she almost went to step back for a moment but her hand clung onto his for dear life. “It’s really nice to meet you Rafe. I’ve heard so much about you,” she repeated.

“And not all bad, if that face of yours is anything to go by. You can smile,” she joked, making him suddenly realise he must have looked so miserable. A smile quickly appeared on his face, him desperate not to appear so - moody - that was not the impression he wanted to give her. It wasn’t the impression he wanted to give anyone, but especially her.

It sounded crazy to him, to even admit to himself, but it felt like her soul was speaking to him. Her warm smile, the way she was looking at him and that softness behind her eyes. He hadn’t seen that in someone for a long time. He didn’t know how to explain his feelings but they were all bubbling up; every single emotion coursing through his veins. He felt sad that his divorce was being made into some big spectacle, but without it, he could have never laid eyes on this beautiful woman now in front of him. Ethereal, it was the best way to describe her.

“So I guess you’re sick and tired about talking about your divorce eh, so tell me about you,” she began, a smile forming on his face at her words, “And I mean you as you. Not as one half of someone else.”

Rafe tried his best to hold in a big grin. No one ever asked about him. Since their engagement, it was always about him and Grace and when they’d be getting married (“October 3 2020”) or when they’d have kids (“soon when the time is right”). But no one ever asked about him, his dreams and hopes and ambitions.

“Um where do I start?” he said, a light chuckle filling the room. He began to tell her about his childhood, growing up in the Outer Banks, his friends, family. He couldn’t stop; it was like word vomit. She stood there for what felt like hours - probably only a few minutes - her eyes scanning over his, a grin spreading on her face which broke out into a laugh as he recalled the time he fell off his motorbike and scraped his leg really badly.

“Didn’t hurt your pretty face though did it,” she chimed in, her eyes instantly locking with his. The heat rose to his cheeks at her words; him keeping that solid gaze on her. The tension in the room rife.

Suddenly, as if he’d returned back to earth, he laughed off his embarrassment, covering his overeager grin with an awkward cough. He was just about to speak when the sound of a kid shouting interrupted them.

“Mommy, mommy, need you,” the little boy screamed as he ran into the kitchen where the two of them had been talking. Rafe awkwardly stepped back from her on hearing another voice as he realised what was going on; it was her son. She had kids.

“Hey baby, how are you?” she said, instantly bending down to her son’s level.

“Hi mommy, who’s this?” the little boy said, spinning around to look at Rafe, who immediately crouched down too, knowing his 6’4 frame could be intimidating for someone so small. Still, he had to look up to look at Rafe.

“Hi buddy, I’m Rafe. What’s your name?”

The little one suddenly went shy, mumbling something incoherent and covering his face in his mum’s chest.

“This is my son, Oliver,” she said with a smile as she looked at Rafe, him smiling back at the kid. He was obviously shy but Rafe had a way of getting him out of his shell as he spotted a clue on his t-shirt.

“Hey do you like the Knicks?” Rafe said, glancing down to the shirt. The little boy nodded, looking back at his mum and fidgeting with his hands, obviously nervous. “They’re my favourite too.”

“Who’s your favourite player?”

That was all he needed to say and suddenly Oliver settled in completely, he loved talking about the Knicks. He was obsessed with basketball and told Rafe how he had always dreamed of going to a game one day. The two got caught up in an animated discussion - players, the game and all of that as Rafe told him what it was like being at a match. He promised to take him one day.

Rafe’s eyes kept flicking back to Y/N, his gaze constantly switching. He couldn’t keep his eyes off her. She was so beautiful, so captivating. And it was the way she looked at her son too, her eyes lighting up the more animated he got. She loved seeing him so comfortable with a stranger; maybe it was Rafe’s energy that helped him settle quickly. Either way she was grateful for it.

“Oh my gosh mommy, guess what? Rafe said he’d take me to a game. Mommy, mommy,” Oliver said, so excited by the idea of it. He could barely contain himself.

“That’s very kind of Rafe,” she said, her eyes flicking from her son to Rafe’s as she smiled at him sweetly, his heart beating extra hard after meeting her gaze. “What do you say to Rafe?”

“You’re the best oh my gosh, I love you,” the kid said, running back over to Rafe, who chuckled as he was nearly knocked down in the process. He immediately opened his arms, wrapping them around Oliver and picking him up. He sat him on his hip, the little one still clutching onto his neck for dear life, so excited by what Rafe had proposed as they continued to talk about it.

Y/N watched on silently, smiling to herself at their interaction, completely captivated by how good Rafe was with Ollie. As they chatted, the little boy moved his hands and started to play with Rafe’s chain which hung around his neck. Rafe didn’t seem to notice, but she did.

“Don’t do that please sweetheart,” she told him as he looked over, smiling guiltily.

“Oh no it’s ok, I don’t mind,” Rafe jumped in, the boy settling back in his arms and continuing to play with the chain on his neck, his tiny fingers running over the gold metal. “It’s fine with me.” He gave the boy a reassuring smile, rubbing his back to settle his nerves.

“What’s going on here then?” a softly spoken but firm voice came from the other side of the room.

Rafe immediately clammed up, noticing how Y/N had stepped towards him and made a grab for her son.

“Oh sweetheart this is Rafe, Ward’s son,” she said.

Sweetheart. But that must mean -

“Rafe, this is Alex, my husband.”

A/N: Ahh so that’s it for chapter one! Let me know what you think and if you’d like a second chapter 🤞🤞

tagging all my taglist and some people i think *might* want to read it and other people i’m inspired to write AU rafe by but pls feel free to ignore if you’re not keen 💕 i won’t be offended 💓

main taglist (pls let me know if you want to be added 🥰)

@starkeyobx @lovelyhedgehog44 @gryffindorpouge11 @jjmaybankmakesmecry @pankowforlife @bayy2452 @proactivetypeofgirl @hoebx @fangirlfree @severa-kane @lovedetlost @slutforsmutsstuff @drewbooooo @raiinyhood @samxslaughter @valeriiecameron @burgstead @mayceelou @my-baexht-ls @i-always-come-back-xoxo @0fucsgivenon @heesbestlover @babeyglo @infatuatedjanes @ailee-celeste @malums-trash-can

@wannabestarkeysgirl @storytellingwitht​ @mackenzielovee​ @strokesofstokes​

[ofstoriesandstardust]

same mistakes-verse timeline

the chronological timeline to our beloved same mistakes-verse, along with brief notes of important moments. it’s important to note that the masterlist is laid out in the way you are intended to read it, but this is in chronological order, meant to keep track of the timeline

last updated 04/19/23

light

i need some sleep

rivers and roads

winner takes all

terrors of the night

waving goodbye with an absent minded smile

right here, right now

getaway car

brutal 

Rebel’s time at UCSD and coping with the fact that Bradley left

safe inside

when she loved me

everybody tells me i was born an old soul

my tears ricochet

the early years of Rebel and Rooster’s separation

fortunate son

seven o’clock news/silent night

the christmas Maverick was declared MIA

how do i say goodbye?

on a dime, your whole life can change

will i take it all for granted? (and be leaving empty handed)

best bud, you alright bud?

the progress of Coyote and Rebel’s friendship told over the course of two years (overlaps with the original trilogy)

war is over

the Christmas Rebel spent with Coyote 

and who says love should break us when we fall?

a character study of Rooster na dPheonix’s firendhsiop and how she views Rebel, stemming from the early days in the Navy to the brink of the suicide mission

and that’s when i lost it

Coyote gets his Iraq orders

same mistakes part i

same mistakes part ii

in case you don’t live forever

the in between 

moments of the time between part ii and iii, told by Maverick

the lost moments

same mistakes part iii

for the love of a daughter

a conversation from part iii, told by Maverick 

so long, daisy may

a peak into Rebel’s issues from the beginning

a slice of life

the team learns about The Incident

hiding in the shadows

one thing i like about me (is that i’m nothing like you and i never will be)

The infamous investigation into the Green Vipers

soulmates

of holidays and homesickness

Rebel and Rooster’s first Christmas together

these secrets i keep

Coyote comes out and reveals his relationship with Hangman

fever dream

heart made up on you

don’t blame me

mine

 - the above all take place in the first year and a half-ish after the og trilogy -

and i don’t mind if it’s me you need to turn to

hey brother 

hope ur okay

it's just a tattoo, charlie brown!

it’s a good thing we’re each other’s kind of crazy

the great war

 - takes place around the second year mark after the og trilogy - 

 - the following take place just before and just after the three year mark of the og trilogy -

chasing stars

Rebel decides it’s finally time to address all over trauma and ghosts from her past

until i found you

Late night dancing in the kitchen with Rooster and discussion of the future

dog days

Rebel gets a dog named Buddy.

everything that led to this

second chance part i 

Rebel’s mom reappears and Rooster asks his girlfriend a very important question

my heart is wherever you are

have yourself a merry little Christmas

give me back my girlhood, it was mine first

i hear your s-o-s

and by morning, gone was any trace of you

you’ll lose your faith for a bit and question if she’s you

we could leave the christmas lights up until january

second chance pt. ii

you raise me up

[doulayogimama]

I know this is random and probably weird. But I’ve been wanting to write to my old friend C in a real way for a long time. I don’t feel sadness for not having other friends from middle school / HS in my life but I’m still so sad about C. The lack of closure. I wrote this just now and I’m trying to decide if I have the balls to send it.

Hey, C 🤍

I know that maybe this will seem odd and out of the blue, but at least a couple times a year, I think about writing to you. I’m old enough to know that I shouldn’t put this off anymore simply because I’m afraid you’ll think me strange for it.

It’s been 10 years since I think we considered each other friends. Maybe our friendship will always be in the past, and that’s okay. But I just wanted to finally say: I’m sorry. I’m sorry that 19 year old me didn’t know how to communicate to you when I was hurt. I’m sorry that in not knowing how to talk to you, I just let you drift away. I honestly don’t remember much after I moved to Colorado; I have no recollection of how everything sort of unraveled and never got put back together again. I just remember being too scared to reach out, so I stopped. Sometimes, I feel a real sadness that you’re not in my daughters life and that I don’t really know anything about yours. Is that crazy? We may not have anything in common anymore, but I remember those promises to one another that we would be Godparents to each others kids. If our friendship stays in our adolescence, if we never see each other in person again, I just want you to know that you really mattered to me. I really loved you like my own sister and I think I always will. I’m sorry for my part in the dissolving of our friendship. I see teeny pieces of your life on social media and I’m so proud of you. You made a life that you dreamed of at 15!!!! Living in NYC, keeping your creativity… I’m so happy to see these little snippets. Even when I’m 70, I’ll be cheering you on even if we are never in each others lives like we used to be.

Again, apologies if this is out of left field - I just didn’t want to put this off anymore and today just seemed like the right day to finally write to you.

Sending you lots of love wherever you are + wishing you a beautiful 2024 🦋

[cvbullshit]

Simulacra(1, 2, PD) Incorrect Quotes Part 2

These mainly take as if it was somewhat the Content AU(their nicknames, genders, and other) and mixed slightly with canon, depending on the quote. I may do art of them at some point, feel free to do art of them yourself though, if you want, just tag me since I'd want to see it. For context: -The first Simulacra(from Simulacra 1) is nicknamed Phoney. -The second Simulacra(from Simulacra 2) is nicknamed Ripple Man, obv. -The Pipe Dreams Simulacra is nicknamed Flappee. -The MC from the first game is labeled MC 1, MC from the second game being labeled as MC 2. -The MC from Pipe Dreams is labeled MC PD.

Flappee: I woke up and chose VIOLENCE. I WILL COMMIT ARSON AND BURN EVERYTHING TO THE GROUND!!! I AM ANGRY- Teddy: Awwww, you’re so adorable! Give me a hug~ Flappee: Wh-What? nO, yOURE SUPPOSED TO BE SCARED OF ME! TREMBLE BEFORE MY WRATH- MC PD, recording: This is so cute.

Flappee: I dare you to kiss the next person who walks into this room. Teddy: Screw that, I’m not kissing any of you. MC PD walks in Teddy: Fine, I’ll do it. Rules are rules you know.

the Squad cleaning up MC PD: Pick up the nearest piece of trash and throw it away. Flappee, to Teddy: Aight, which bin do you wanna go in—

Arya: Imagine if someone handed you a box full of all the things you lost throughout your life. Rippleman:��It would be nice to have my sense of purpose back… Rex: Oh wow, my childhood innocence! Thank you for finding this. Mina: My will to live! I haven't seen this in years. MC 2: I knew I lost that potential somewhere. Maya: Mental stability, my old friend! Arya: Jesus, could you guys lighten up a little?

Mina: Who the fuck added me to a fucking group chat? Maya: >:O language Rippleman: Yeah watch your fucking language Rex: Okay, who taught Rippleman the fuck word?! Arya: 'The fuck word'. MC 2: Are you stupid? You guys use the f word all the time Rippleman: Oh my god they censored it Arya: Say fuck, MC 2. Rippleman: Do it, MC 2. Say fuck.

Arya: Who else is hiding in the laundry room trying to listen to MC 2 and Maya's convo? Mina: Me. I'm in the laundry basket. Rippleman: I'm in the washing machine. Rex: I'm in the closet. Mina: We accept you Rex. <3 Rex: No I'm literally in the closet. Mina: Love is love. <3

Arya: She was poetry, but he couldn't read. MC 2: His name was Jared he's 19. Mina: When his parents built a very strange machine. Rippleman, singing: Watch that scene, digging the dancing queen. Maya, singing: Eyyyy, Macarena! Rex: Horrible job everyone.

Murilo, to Rippleman: Why is MC 2 not talking? Rippleman: I'm playing the silent game with them. Murilo: Well, then you just lost. Rippleman: I lost two hours ago. I gave them ear plugs and told them to close their eyes. It was the only way I could think of to get them to shut up.

MC 2: Why's it called an oven when you of in the cold food and you of out hot eat the food? Murilo: …What???

MC 2: I don’t think we can mansplain, manipulate, or malewife our way out of it this time. Murilo: cracks knuckles Manslaughter it is!

MC PD: I think MC 2 is in trouble. MC 1: Alright. Struggling to give a fuck, if I’m honest.

Rippleman: Hey bro, what do you want to eat? Phoney: The souls of the innocent! Flappee: A bagel. Phoney: No! Flappee: Two bagels.

Flappee: It’s impossible to make a sentence without using the letter A. Phoney: Despite your thinking, it is quite possible, yet difficult, to form one without the specific letter. Here’s one more to further disprove your theory. Rippleman: Fuck you.

Rippleman: Now, Flappee, all of us are doing this because we care about you, okay? Phoney: Except for me. I just wanted to see the look on your face.

Rippleman: Where is everyone? Flappee: Phoney had a nervous collapse, MC 2 is looking after them, MC 1 is trying to kill MC PD, so I’m in charge. Rippleman: Oh my god! Flappee: I know, right?

MC 1: Man, they look like a real handful. How do you deal with them? Phoney, watching Flappee screaming, Rippleman trying to set a sleeping MC PD on fire, and MC 2 choking on air: I don't know either.

Taylor: When Phoney was born, the gods said, "They're too perfect for this world." Anna: Please. When they were born, the devil said, "Oh, competition."

Anna: Hey, check out my Spongebob umbrella! Anna opens their umbrella while indoors Taylor: Anna, that’s bad luck… Anna: Chill out, Taylor! Phoney, kicking down the door: WHO SUMMONED ME?!?! Anna and Taylor: screams

Anna: How do you do that? Taylor: I'm fearless. Phoney: I saw you run from bees yesterday. You flailed around and tripped over a chair. It was both hysterical and sad. Taylor: I'm mostly fearless.

Mina: What do rainbows mean to you? Arya: Gay rights. Rippleman: There's money. Murilo: The sign of God's promise to never destroy the whole Earth with a flood. Rex: It is an optical phenomenon that separates sunlight into its continuous spectrum when the sun shines on raindrops.

Murilo: Anyone d- Arya: Depressed? Rex: Drained? Mina: Dumb? Rippleman: Disliked? Murilo: -done with their work… what is wrong with you people…

[gunkbaby]

I turn 20 tomorrow so have is unedited, uncontrolled, self-pitying, semi-reflective waffle about my wasted teenage years and general misery (aita if i might be a little bit ageist?)

too long so it’s under the cut. This is my birthday gift to myself - I’m dreadfully self-absorbed and self-aware and i think it makes me better than everyone. No one will read this, but it’s for me. My relfection on my horrendous teenage self. Extreme moping. I miss when it was socially acceptable to waffle in self-pity on personal blogs. Gah. How gauche of me.

I’ve been thinking a lot abt the past recently. Especially as I’m abt to turn 20 (no longer a real teenage girl anymore). It sucks bc I really didn’t get to experience adolescence. I left school when i was 13, and an abusive parent meant I wasn’t able to really do anything outside of my home. No wonder I’m such a mess. I have so much anger. Anger of what was taken, what everyone else has, that I will never. I will never get this back. I will never go to prom. I will never know what a teenage party was like. I’ve been to about 3 sleepovers, all before I was 12. My teenage years were spent in hospital wards, doctor’s offices, arguing with my abuser, or in my room, desperately trying to educate myself on my own. I couldn’t socialise myself. No one tried. I had a roof over my head, but outside of the basic privilege of western living, I was kind of abandoned.

It’s kind of shocking to me that I’m 19, about to be 20. And I live alone, sure. I’m going to a great college, I’m about to go through the exams I should have done when I was 16 - that I have worked my ass off to get. I’m about to move up into a higher course, and after that, I’m likely going to university, and I’m going to study my dream degree - zoology/botany. I might be the person I had believed I would be when I was a child. I get to go horse riding every week - something my abuser actively leveraged against me. She leveraged my few social interactions against me. I get to come online everyday and express my love for the one thing that I have had for 8 years - almost a decade, and nearly almost half my freaking life - that I have clung to. That has actively kept me alive. I still remember that fourteen year old girl that was only living to buy the next manga volume, that only agreed to go to the eating disorder clinic because when she came home, the new episode would be out. Staying alive for something to take everything away for a little while.

I think of how I don’t remember being 15, because I had been addicted to alcohol for the past 2 years. How I woke up when Covid happened, but I barely remember that. It was bad when I was 16. I thought, so badly, that something would happen. I might get a little better. I tried recovering and lived with that placebo. I didn’t realise it then, but that was when things with my mother really started to go downhill.

I think of when I was 17, 18, and I first started to use the internet socially, finally started interacting with a fandom I’d lurked in for so long. I think of that girl, and I think of everything she did. Every dumb thing she did, the horrible ways she made people feel, the brazenly incorrect or callous things she said, so desperate to cling onto everything. How little she understood it. I think of her meltdowns, how quickly she’d end up in hospital over anything. I think about how desperate she was to fit in and how much she failed to understand that something like that had already passed for everyone else. Suddenly too old to be behaving how I was. I think about how things got back then.

I think about being so paranoid, I hid under my bed and didn’t eat for a week because I believed people were trying to kill me. I think about how often I’d run away from home. I remember I got lost in the woods once. It was November, and it got so dark, so fast. Hell, to my shock, I think my dumb 17 year old self blogged the fucking thing. I remember my mother had threatened me with hospitsalisation, and I had thrown my coat away, because it was bright yellow and I didn’t want her to follow me. It was so fucking cold. I had my Shuu plushie with me. I don’t think I’ve ever gripped something so hard. I walked for hours. I remember how scared I was. I wonder if I’ll ever not be that scared girl lost in woods. The next I ran away, it was in the middle of the city. I sat in my favourite park and I was scared, but I sat and looked at the city and everyone in it and I felt so calm.

My mother’s face when she tried to kill me. There’s this look people get, and I had never seen it before in my life. But I looked at her and I just sort of knew, you know? I remember pleading for my life, trying to force the car door open, begging her to just let me out. I remember she took me shopping afterwords, sat down and drank a coffee like everything was normal. I was having a panic attack, and she told me that I was being silly. She never said sorry. Recently I found out that she’d gone home and told people she’d ’thought everyone would be better off without us’. I think our relationship died that day, but I didn’t realise it until months later.

And then I think about how one day I decided that it was over. And I ‘chose’ to relapse and kill myself slowly and painfully, then ended up bulimic and more miserable than I have ever been. What a mess I have made of everything.

I am angry at that girl, for a lot of things, but more so, I think I feel sorry for her. In a cold sort of way, I view myself then distantly. I know she was hurting. She was scared and confused, . She was abused and didn’t understand it. She had a fucking personality disorder she didn’t even know the name of. She had a whole ass condition no one would even look at. I wish I could go back to that 17 year old. Part of me wants to shake her and ask why the fuck she’s posting dumb shit on the internet, how anyone could fucking justify how goddamn delusional she was being. But what would that solve - more of a ‘poor me’ narrative, no doubt. What I’ve done isn’t the worst thing anyone’s done, but you can’t escape that guilt, the way you made people feel, how fucking creepy you were - the things I did before I knew I had BPD. I’m not wise enough right now to offer that 17 year old any wisdom.

I can’t hate her. I compare myself to Shuu too much. But it helps sometimes. I forgive him for being unhinged, it’s harder to forgive myself, but I am nothing if not consistent. That girl isn’t all dead yet. She’s shrivelling, slowly, but I still act in ways to people I’m not proud of. I’m still ill.

I’ll still be ill in my twenties. Recovery is no longer the goal - living a life the sick mind can tolerate is. I’m not going to live as long as other people - not of my own accord, though that remains a possibility - people like me just don’t tend to make it that far. I can’t say the idea of old age is appealing. I find oldness detestable - call me ageist, but I am so sick of seeing old people who look like they should have already died. Sometimes you look into the eyes of an old woman, or she will speak to you in such a kind way, and you understand then that there is beauty in old age. I believe, perhaps controversially, that modern medicine might be working too well. We are meant to die, naturally. I think whilst it’s lovely that our grandparents might live to be 100, sometimes I look at old people and I consider than society has chosen quantity over quality. Some old people look at the world with this confusion. I read cosmic horror, it reminds me of that a bit. I feel bad for them, because my world is not theirs anymore. I see anger, confusion, and have the knowledge that these ancient people will never live long enough to come to terms with it. I see it and all I can think about is how, maybe, some people simply should not live to be 90. The body lives, but does the mind? Can our minds handle living so long?

Whatever. Back to me being self-important now.

I can say a million sorries to people I have hurt. To people I made feel uncomfortable. I can apologise for all I have said. For the hatred and negativity I have brought to people. I could say it a million, billion times, but sorry is just a word. I’ll never not feel ashamed of who I have been, I live with guilt in the hope that one day, I might manage myself well enough to not need to think of everything. I hope I make it so far.

I’m not going to be a beacon of mental health. But I’m about to get my basic qualifications, then more advanced, then university. I’m going to be a biologist. :)

Writing has come back to me, slowly, surely. So will drawing. Maybe soon, maybe later, I will have beautiful work and I might say ‘hey, that’s not bad, kid!’. I still have Shuu. He’s still here for me. He’s never not been. I will have him as long as I need him. Not a day goes by where I am not grateful for my oldest friend. Art has returned through my desire to celebrate him. He has saved me, once again.

I live alone, and I like it. I get to go horse riding every week - I love it, so much. My abuser is no longer near me. I have a father who tells me every day, how proud he is. I get to see my wonderful little dog once a month, and I have three beautiful guinea pigs. In the summer, I’ll study a botany diploma and I’m planning on volunteering at a local horse & donkey sanctuary. I’ve never had a job before, it’s never been possible, but maybe.

i guess, not all sunshine and rainbows. I still can’t order coffee or really speak to other human beings. I want to, but I can’t stand to be seen. I’ve never hated myself more than I do right now. Things online are still messy, because I made them so, and I continue to. I’m still ill. Still, maybe things are not as messy as I had once made them. My bulimia has never been this bad, and now is not the time to handle it. I’m fairly certain that my exam stress will end me in hospital. I am still, utterly alone, the mental health services don’t seem to care. But I’m about to start ADHD medication soon, which, maybe, would make some things easier. A lot of things.

I guess all this extended waffling is a form of self-comfort. I fancy myself a wonderful writer, can you tell? I think reflection is a healthy tonic, I’m unable to journal consistently, so forgive the long post about me and how interesting I am.

But. I’m going to be 20 tomorrow. I’m going to wake up tomorrow, and nothing will have changed at all. Except I’m no longer a teenager, and it’s never going to happen for me. I’ve lost it. Forever. And my heart is breaking.

It’s so funny. I spent so long wishing I was 20. 24 especially has always sounded like such a cool age. And 22, and 28 - how I love the 2x tables. But now, I’m scared. Because I haven’t had what I should’ve. Being a teenager wasn’t cool, I thought it would be. Maybe then, the conclusion to all this is simple: being a teenager isn’t something I should miss. So I didn’t grow up normally. So far removed from everything. But I don’t think growing up ever stops. When it does, then you become one of those old people - waiting, confused and angry by a cosmically different world that no longer has use for you.

So maybe being 20 will be okay. Maybe adolescence comes later for me. I last had a birthday party when I was 12 - I bought a Tokyo Ghoul DVD, root A, to my utter shame. But, maybe I can have a 21st birthday party. Maybe I can be who I wanted to be when I was a teenager, but a little more wizened. Maybe growing up like this has been a good thing. I’m starting to go out into the world, and I have a backlog of teenage fuckups separate from teenage joy - maybe that joy will come in my 20s. Maybe it won’t be so bad.

There are flowers in my home. If flowers bloom, then things are never that bad. I think.

[late-to-the-magnus-archives]

Corrupted - a TMA x Malevolent crossover, chapter 19

The plan seems simple enough: find a way to switch Daisy's focus to the real danger, the firebugs who worship the Desolation.

Unfortunately, nothing in Tim's life is that simple right now… and even worse, Jon has forgotten to follow up on a very important thing.

Gore warning! Also, Larson warning. Yeah. They're connected. 🙃

AO3

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

Aww. He looks like a little angel.

Tim is incapable of giving Hastur a dry look in his own face, but he can certainly shoot one at the vanity mirror.

Hastur laughs his terrible sadist laugh (and Tim really wants to bottle it, but for the sake of the bit, rolls his eyes instead).

“Can we maybe try to be less of a dick?" he says.

As you wish, Hastur rumbles, and his right fingertips tap a pattern over Tim’s stomach.

This whole having a hand thing is such a dangerous thing to give Hastur. Devil-pants is, without question, an asshole. Tim shakes it off and goes to check Jon.

He does not, truth be told, look like an angel. Paleness has lent his brown skin a green tint; he already looked like he hadn’t slept in a week, but now, he looks like he might have spent it throwing up, too. Tim feels shitty. It’s impossible to remove his onus from this, accidental priest or not. “Jon. Hey, Jon. Come on, buddy. We need to get you showered and fed.”

Jon’s eyes work behind his lids.

He hears you, says Hastur softly. But I don't understand…

“Don't understand what?” says Tim.

He’s seeing things that are not here.

“Soooo... dreaming?” Tim suggests.

No. The… he’s connected to the people he's seeing. I don't understand. This isn't a power he should possess.

Tim tries to parse that. “So should I try to see what he's seeing?”

No. That’s too big a spell for our first practice.

“Fine. Jon. Come on, mate. You can do it.”

“Nng?” Jon says, and cracks his eyes open. “Tim?”

“Yeah. You okay?”

Jon’s eyes fill.

Oh, no, thinks Tim. "You good, bud?"

“Can I… tell you something?” says Jon, slowly sitting up. “And I mean that phrasing, though may I is also included, but I’m not sure I can. Oh. Also, good morning."

Hastur huffs.

Tim ignores both grammatical tomfoolery and jealous cattery. “Morning. So yeah, try. Take as long as you need.”

Jon swings his legs over the side of the bed, rubs his cheek, and makes a face at whatever he finds there. “I’m really… I’m struggling with all this.”

Tim nods. “I get that. A few days ago, I would have sworn to you in front of a judge, a priest, and a virgin that there was no such thing as magic or souls or whatever. And here we are.”

Jon's lips quirk. "Well, you've got one of those here, should you feel inclined to try. So. Here we are,” he says, and seems to come to a decision.

Did I hear you say you're a virgin?

Right, Tim's ignoring that. "I'm all ears."

Jon swallows. “When I was eight years old, I had a particular bully. He was about… I don’t know, eighteen or so? Big enough to cause problems, and old enough that his word was taken over mine.”

Tim knew it. This guy has been bullied his whole life. Still is, and thinks it is normal. It occurs to Tim that Jon would not know if Elias ("if," that’s really funny) has been crossing lines he shouldn’t. It would fall too neatly into Jon’s ouvre, just with a little extra supernatural spice.

Tim is completely sure Elias is aware of this. Tim is completely sure Elias has blown past those lines for years now.

Tim is angry enough he almost misses when Jon starts talking again. “When I was young, I was a deeply annoying child.” And Jon does a laugh he clearly feels is expected at the expense of his younger self. “So it wasn’t that surprising. The thing is, I… I found a Leitner.”

Tim stiffens. “The fuck? You were eight!”

“Yes,” says Jon, like leftover coffee grinds. “I don’t want to go into all of it right now, but… this book almost got me eaten by a giant spider that lived in a house.” He swallowed. “Instead, my bully came along. He knocked the book out of my hands, knocked me down, then picked it up to use its contents to mock me.”

Tim knows. “And he got eaten instead.”

“Yes.” Jon covers his face.

"Jon, this... this wasn't your fault. Any of it. There's no such thing as a kid who deserves to be bullied."

“I know that," Jon says into his hands, "but I still feel like it was.”

Perhaps his fate was justice, Hastur says.

“For just shoving another kid on the playground?” Jon bursts, and laughs weakly. “No. No. It should’ve been me. It wasn’t, and I’ve spent my whole life trying to disprove what happened. To prove it couldn’t happen, because statistically, something like that cannot possibly be a one-off, and it was real, it did happen, and now so much more is real than I imagined, and this isn’t… this isn’t how I wanted it to go. That’s all.” He rubs his eyes. “I sound pathetic.”

You do, says Hastur before Tim can stop him, but that's not a terrible thing in this circumstance.

“Hastur,” Tim warns.

No, says Hastur. He should hear this. Sometimes, the universe produces justice. More often, it doesn't; but I find the fact that a near-adult felt it fine to harm a true child, and his doing so led to his death, directly, as a consequence of his own actions, absolves that child from any ill.

Jon looks up.

You are not guilty, Jonathan Sims, says Hastur with what sounds like all the authority he believes he once had, with the power of the pope, with a fucking god-like surety that sounds like he actually has the power to forgive sins.

Briefly, Tim is gripped with the mad urge to laugh, but he does not. Jon is staring, wide-eyed, and seems to be taking this very seriously. “You do?” whispers Jon.

Well, Tim can’t laugh now.

I do, confirms Hastur. And I think you know I’d hardly lie to you. I don’t even like you, particularly—but Tim does, so for his sake, I will speak. You did not do this. Let that shame go.

Jon stares. His eyes are wide, amazed, moved.

This, Tim suddenly realizes, is probably one of the ways Hastur manages to get cultists in this day and age: showing up, being all this, making them feel heard and special. Nope.

Cutting that off at the pass. “He’s a dick about it,” he says, keeping his tone light, “but I agree. There’s no excuse to bully someone less than half your age.”

Jon drops his gaze. “I suppose.”

“So do I.” Tim has no intention of letting Hastur bait that hook again, whatever hook it is. “So you’re having trouble with all of this because it’s happening so fast… and you have such a big reason to want it untrue. I get it.”

Jon rubs his eyes again like a tired child.

“Come on, man,” says Tim, helping him stand. “Get a shower.”

“I didn’t… my clothes,” says Jon pathetically.

“Your utterly gore-soaked clothes? Yeah, I’m calling a pass on that,” says Tim. “I’ll find you something. Just go get cleaned up, okay? Food, then, too.”

“And then?”

“Then… we might be going to Sheffield,” says Tim, hoping desperately that he is not, in fact, herding all three of them to their doom.

Jon obeys and goes to shower. He doesn’t even remember to close the door.

Tim sighs. “Yeah, we’re doing great.”

At least we feel less nauseated, says Hastur.

“You’ve really got a thing about throwing up, don’t you?” says Tim, checking drawers. As he thought, clothing of various sizes sits in these drawers, cleaned and pressed and waiting for whomever. “The fuck does he do here?” he mutters to himself.

I just don’t like it, says Hastur after a long moment.

“Throwing up?”

Who does?

“Nobody, but… oh, he’ll like this,” says Tim, and lifts out a simple green button-down, Oxford-collar and—as if planted—a nothing-brown sweater-vest with dark green chevron stripes.

He will, says Hastur. Also, did he say he was a virgin?

"That really isn't our business, Hastur?"

Of course, of course. I'm merely concerned for his welfare, both mentally and physically.

Tim cannot help his eye-roll. “Don’t think I trust this sudden opinion change of yours,” he says, laying the clothes on the bed next to some socks and boxers.

What? says Hastur, innocently. I am allowed to change my mind, Tim.

“Yeah, but you don’t go from not liking someone to liking them for no reason.”

Let’s just say… Hastur seems to consider his words. I like the sounds he makes when he is drunk.

"Okay, but that's worse? You see how that's worse, right?" Tim suggests politely, and heads for the stairs.

Oh, Tim, hums Hastur, you’re so suspicious.

“And that didn’t go very far in easing my suspicions,” Tim quips.

Hastur laughs at him.

Or maybe with him. It’s such a big, cruel sound that it’s hard to tell, and Tim’s imagination puts that sound in some interesting situations, and oh, it would work so well, and before he knows it, he finds himself asking— “Say,” he says. “Is that what you really sound like?”

My voice? Yes, says Hastur.

Tim decides he has no safe reply, and goes silent.

#

There are voices down there. One of them is Elias, and he’s… laughing? No, not quite laughing—it isn’t that evil as fuck sound he let loose earlier today. No, that’s… that’s…

“Is he fucking flirting?” mutters Tim.

He can feel Hastur startle. What? What makes you say that?

“Just listen.” Tim leans on the banister, doing just that. “The way he’s talking. It’s flirty as fuck.”

Hastur listens. It sounds aggressive to me, both passive and otherwise.

“Yeah, it’s that, too,” says Tim. “It’s the way he’s talking. Familiar. Definitely flirty. Distinctly rude. The fuck is down there, his ex-wife?”

Sounds male to me.

“Yeah,” says Tim, unsure if he wants to walk into whatever this is. He sighs. “Let’s get it done.”

With Elias, in the kitchen, is a man. A large man, beefy and broad, with white hair and beard, wearing a dark pea-coat and white captain's hat lined with gold leaves. And the man is already looking Tim’s way, as if he knew he was coming down before Tim did.

Elias turns in his chair and beams. “Tim! There you are. Come down here and meet your new business partner.”

So Elias is putting it on thick, and everything Tim thought upstairs is, he's sure, confirmed. The two are sitting an inch too close together with their hands too close on the table, yet the captain guy leans away from Elias like he’d rather be anywhere else, and Elias is utterly gleeful about the whole weird setup.

If this isn’t an ex, Tim will eat that captain’s hat. “Hi,” he says, and sits in a chair across from them. “So. Weird day, huh?”

The captain smiles. It’s a fantastic smile, friendly; the white beard and hair don’t match the youth of his face, and Tim has no idea how old this guy is. “So this is your mystery-sorcerer, is it? Nice to meet you, nice to meet you. Call me Peter.”

‘Peter’ doesn’t offer a hand to shake, so Tim doesn’t, either. “Tim. Business partner?”

“Peter Lukas is captain and owner of the Tundra, a large, seaworthy beast that can and has take you where you need to go,” says Elias.

“Part-owner,” says Peter so affably that Tim has no question Elias' comment was a stab.

Elias looks briefly shocked. “Part?”

Peter ignores him, confirming it. “I’m told you’re going to need some help reaching a few difficult places. Not to worry. I’ve got the resources to get you there, as long as the Institute fronts the funds.”

Tim looks at Elias.

“Oh, we’ll be paying, don’t worry,” Elias says brightly. “It all goes under the operating budget.”

“The hiring of random vessels to go someplace difficult,” says Tim as dryly as he can.

“Oh, I like this one, Elias,” says Peter. “He’s got a bit of bite to him, doesn’t he?”

“I was concerned you might,” says Elias.

“Well, not to worry. The issue at hand for me is impossible with this fellow,” says Peter as if that makes sense. “That’s all right. The money’s good, and it isn’t that long a trip.”

“Really?” says Elias sounding ridiculously amazed. “The Arctic is hardly right around the corner."

“The Arctic?” blurts Tim.

Peter waves his hand, affable and dismissive of all that Elias is. “Not to worry, Tim. It’s hardly time for your trip now, is it? I understand you’re going to Sheffield.”

Tim stares. “So… did you just tell him all the things, or is my National Insurance number still under wraps?”

Captain Peter laughs. It’s a great laugh. He’s absolutely delightful to hear, to watch, and yet it feels like the edge of an abandoned moor covered in mist and ready to swallow travelers.

The Lonely, whispers Hastur, and he feels afraid.

Well, that cinches it. “Thanks, but I think I have to decline?” says Tim, who will stand the fuck up for Hastur no matter if he’s a god.

Elias smiles.

Fuck, thinks Tim, because it’s clear Elias expected him to protest.

“Well, I can’t say that’s particularly wise,” says Elias, “but if you really want to abandon your passenger’s plans, that’s up to you.”

What? says Hastur, who perks up like a German Shorthaired Pointer. What? What about me?

“The item you need is in Sannikov Land,” says Elias mildly.

Oh, shit. The god-flesh. “The g… the thing is in the Arctic?” Tim squeaks.

Then we must go.

“Hold on,” says Tim.

Non-negotiable. If what I need is there…

“It is,” Elias says. “Anyway, all of this is moot. You’re going to Sheffield today, and assuming that goes as we all hope—”

“Wait, you said you were going to work on that,” Tim breaks in.

“Indeed. Chief Inspector Henderson has assigned some capable people to set up the sting. All you need to do is go.”

Tim can feel the incredulous face he’s making, but it goes beyond even the power of baby Merlin to stop it. “So,” he says, casually, “you ever have a moment when you realize your life has gone completely insane, and that maybe you’re just hallucinating, because what in actual hell is going on?”

Captain Peter smiles and laughs again, the perfect response, light and chipper. “Yes,” he says. “And I must say, Tim, you seem to be handling it admirably.”

But Tim knows how he feels, and knows his instinct is almost wrong, and he is absolutely certain that Peter is not moved by his charm. That Peter is repulsed by it. That Peter feels Tim’s amiability, and it disgusts him on some wild, deep level that Tim has never known. Hastur’s whispered words suddenly make sense. “The Lonely?” Tim says. “That’s one of these fear-gods? Loneliness?”

“You’ve known a bit of it yourself,” says Peter absolutely winningly. “I can see it on you—though with your partnership, you’ve certainly gone beyond its reach now, haven’t you? Ha-ha!”

While Tim has Hastur, he isn’t alone. “Yeeaah,” he says, drawing the word out. “Is being Lonely-core sort of inherently creepy, or is that just a quality of being Elias’s ex-whatever?”

They both look shocked.

(That may be the most satisfying thing that’s happened in days.)

Hastur laughs, low and wicked and eager.

Elias turns to Peter. “I did warn you.”

“Yes, well,” says Peter. “Well. Not to worry. I’ve handled rougher seas. And I'll be ferrying you toward an end-game, anyway.”

Was that a threat? Did this Peter have his sight set on them after they were separated? After, when Tim could be alone again? “Ratcheting up the creep factor a bit much, aren’t you?”

“Only in response to aggressive protective coloring,” beams Peter.

That was pretty good. Tim snorts. “I can't decide if I like you or want to set you on fire.”

“Prefer a bit more distance, if it’s all the same to you,” says Peter Lukas as if he’s flirting and not offering to stay far, far away.

“Wonderful! We're all getting along,” says Elias, and claps his hands. “The lieutenant is nearly here. I'll let you know when they're ready, Peter.”

Lukas stands. He’s tall. Large. Tree-like, and Tim has a wild image of this form against a backdrop of waves and moon and mist and mourn, somehow immaterial as if made of fog and sorrow, and it is terrifying. It is fear embodied of being abandoned, alone, in a world unseen of roaming eyes that see but never notice, laughter far away but never shared, homes and hearths so distant they did not even reflect on the water, and you will always be alone—

Whatever rises from Hastur now is rage-kissed, loud, shakes the table, rattles the china, and makes the lights flicker. Hands off. Do that again, avatar, and you will be alone in Hell.

“I'm not entirely sure if you’re actually trying to ward me off with a promise like that,” says Peter Lukas cheerfully. He taps his hat. “See you soon.” He leaves. He does not, Tim notes, require direction out, or lack knowledge on how to lock up.

Elias is smiling.

“Soooo,” says Tim. “That guy. You two?”

Elias waves the question away. “His family is one of the prime sources of funding for the Institute.”

Tim’s feeling spicy. “So you married in?”

“No, of course not,” says Elias. “We've merely known each other for a very long time.”

“If you haven't fucked, I'll eat his damn hat,” says Tim, which is, of course, when Jon arrives at the bottom of the stairs.

Jon stumbles. “What? Who?” he says.

Elias smiles. “If you’re ready, I'll call you a car.”

“We can take the train, and don’t think I missed you didn’t answer,” says Tim.

Elias tilts his head, looking up through his eyelashes, absolutely salacious. “Tim. Do we need to involve HR?”

"Oh, wow," says Tim.

“Is something happening here I should know about?” says Jon as primly as if he’d walked in on children drawing on the walls with Sharpies.

For absolutely no sane reason, Tim is struck with the giggles. “Could you two be more opposite?”

“We’re not opposite at all,” murmurs Elias. “Not at our core. In the end, we will both do whatever it takes… to see.”

Jon has gone still as a statue. He looks caught.

So that backfired. “Oh, good, the baiting started nice and early today,” says Tim. “Come on, Sims. I'll get you breakfast en route.”

“I—”

“Nope,” says Tim preemptively, and takes him by the arm. Then he hesitates. “You mind if I, ah. Touch you like this?”

Jon looks up. “Does it mean I’m going with you on whatever your next assignment is?”

Fuck, Tim thinks. “Yes.”

“Then you may do whatever you need,” says Jon in full Received Pronunciation, and pushes his glasses up his nose.

“Not until—ah! He’s here,” says Elias, and goes to get the door before the bell rings.

“Freaky, that guy,” murmurs Tim.

“Who’s here?” says Jon.

“I’ll handle this,” says Elias over his shoulder. “Let yourselves out through the kitchen.”

Don't be seen, is what that means. “Servants’ entrance, it is,” Tim drawls, and steers Jon out that door.

#

Elias must have an app or something, because the car he called is already here. Tim slips into the back with Jon. As he guessed, the driver knows where they’re going.

The driver is… large? Very large. Uncomfortably large, slightly hunched to keep his head from hitting the ceiling, shoulders considerably wider than the seat. Something is really weird about this guy. Tim subtly makes sure the doors are not locked.

"Food in the bag there," says the driver, who has a thick accent, a thick voice, a meaty pronunciation. "Sandwich."

"Oh! Oh, thank you?" Jon stares at the driver. Obviously stares, which will not go well even if the guy is normal.

“So,” says Tim, pulling his attention away, and drops his voice. “Seems we’re gonna be doing a sting.”

“A… a sting?” whispers Jon.

“Yeah. Setting it up to take down some firebugs. That's who was at the door—a cop.”

Jon stares. “Since when are you working for the police?”

“I’m not?”

It’s the Desolation, Hastur says quietly.

Jon pales, going slightly green. “Oh,” he says.

Tim suspects Jon knows more about them than he does. He lacks the courage to follow that trail right now. “They… they want to talk to me,” says Tim. “They don’t know I've got… you know.” He points at himself, and Jon nods. “So, yeah, Elias seems to think we’re setting up a sting, or something. The idea is pulling that Hunt lady off our trail.”

“You don’t know many details for the bait being dangled,” Jon murmured.

“You don’t have to go with me,” says Tim. “You can get out. The guy can stop the car.”

“No.”

“Jon, this is a really bad idea.” He doesn’t want to be mean about it. “You’re just the type of person they’ll…”

“Want to hurt?” says Jon, who may be weirdly naive, but isn’t actually stupid. “I’ve no doubt.”

Tim sighs. “I don’t really like this, sempai.”

Jon looks so grim. “I'm not worried about me. The real harm they can do is lure you in, I reason. With your abilities, you could destroy the entire world.”

Tim dearly wishes Jon hadn’t said that.

He can feel it. The hunger for it. The anticipated joy of destroying everything that had ever hurt him, and he has to turn away and look out the window and remember why he wants to save the world and not damn it.

It takes a minute. It’s not lust. It’s not hunger. It’s a need so deep that it feels like an integral part of him. Tim wipes his eyes.

You’re all right, Hastur soothes. Breathe with me. In, two, three, four, out, two, three, four. In, two, three, four five…

“Fucking dom,” Tim whispers, managing a weak smile, and looks back at Jon.

Jon is watching him. Only watching him, and yet Tim can feel it. It’s the strangest thing. It is… not comfortable. In a flash of instinct, Tim knows something else is watching him through those brown eyes.

“Is that the Eye?” he blurts.

Yes, says Hastur.

“What?” says Jon, startling, fortunately falling out of it.

That felt awful. Tim sighs. "Bloody hell. We're a mess, you know?”

Jon nods. “I suppose.”

Tim settles back and pulls out his phone. “Oy, driver—any chance you got some kind of mobile plug situation?”

“Yeah,” says the guy in that big, meaty voice to go with his big, meaty self, and without looking, hands back two wires with different connectors.

“Baller,” says Tim, and offers one to Jon.

“Thanks,” says Jon, taking it, and then—still holding it as if he’d forgotten it existed—pulls statements from his bag to read.

Tim pops in his ear buds, cranks up some Clean Bandit, and tries to ignore that call to end the world.

#

Three hours in traffic aren’t too bad. They give Tim a chance to snooze while not inebriated, which is immediately more restful, and to calm himself down as much as he can.

He knows Jon is right. This could be a problem. A huge risk. It’s not dissimilar to waving a chunk of meat in front of the lioness he nearly let loose in fucking Chelsea. Tim sighs. What magic do you want to practice doing?

He can feel Hastur all but sit up with ears perked like a happy puppy. You’re willing?

Feel like it might be a good idea. Beside him, Jon still reads statements, hunched over, a gargoyle-monk-nerd combination (including brown skin, which Tim is certain has a lot to do with his targeting) that is either endearing or annoying, with no in-between.

Tim finds him endearing. Poor little guy.

Yes, yes, ignore him. Let’s focus on us.

“What?” says Jon.

“Nothing,” says Tim. “We’re planning. Go back to your scary bits.”

Jon gives him a scathing look Tim wishes he could bottle and goes back to the scary bits.

We will begin with something so very small. Your imagination is keen and clear; your power is wildly strong. Thus, we will start slowly, and I will help you.

You have the power to help me? I mean… you can interfere?

I don’t have your will or thoughts like I do your hand. Hastur is almost gentle saying that. But I can talk you through. Help keep you grounded. And I think, when we sync properly, I will be able to help throttle, as well.

Tim sighs, puffing out his cheeks. Swear to me on John’s grave this isn’t some scheme to take control.

There is a pause, and Tim realizes he’s caused hurt.

It is not a scheme to take control.

Hey. I’m sorry. Didn’t know that’d hurt you.

Another pause. It did not, Hastur lies like a chump.

Someday, he's going to have to get the details on this whole John and Arthur situation. Sure.

“About ‘ere,” says the driver, slowing down. “Sure about this place? Not a nice area.”

“Yeah,” says Tim. “Uh. This.” He holds out the letter, carefully folded to hide all but the address.

“Yeah, that’s it,” says the driver. “Dunno who sent you here, but they’re not your friend.” And he laughs, almost a wet sound, definitely a cruel one.

Who in fuck has Elias hired to do this? “So, uh,” says Tim. “Did he pay you, or…”

“I’m paid,” says the guy, and rolls down his window to spit out of it, and maybe so his left arm can finally move. “Be here when you get out. Don’t take too long. ‘S not fun defending the bloody car, innit?”

“Sure,” says Tim, and elbows Jon.

Jon, who was so absorbed in his statements that he didn’t even realize the car had stopped. Jon, who was so glued to the page that he blinks as if waking from a deep and druggy sleep. Jon, who… actually looks a hell of a lot better than he did three hours ago. There’s color in his cheeks; his eyes are less tired. “What?” he says.

“We’re here,” says Tim. “Just let me talk, okay? Please. And, uh… since the car’s staying, maybe leave all that inside? It’s flammable.”

Jon looks as though Tim suggested they hunt down any infant relatives he might have and feeding them to crocodiles. “Oh!” he says, and briefly clutches manila folders to his chest. “Oh. Yes, you’re right, of course. Very good suggestion.” He takes a moment to pack it all away.

Tim breathes slowly. “I can do this.”

Yes. You can do this.

Tim swallows around the lump in his throat. “I can do this. They won’t get me. Or you. Or anybody.”

Before you, I would have assumed no human could. But you… Tim, I believe you can.

Hastur might be lying. Tim is too upset to tell right now. “Thanks.”

“All right,” says Jon, who has tucked his bag against seat in front of him. “Let’s go.”

Tim takes another breath and opens the door. His heart is pounding.

“I’ll be here,” says the driver, sounding bored, his arm and shoulder fully out of the car.

That guy has got to be eight feel tall. And wide, Tim thinks.

Hastur chuckles softly. At least he might make a good shield, should we need to run.

"Rather not," Tim murmurs, and walks.

The building in front of them used to be office space. No one uses it now, nor most of this street; and for there to be such unused real estate is, Tim knows, definitely a sign of bad things.

I can do this, he tells himself, double-checking Jude Perry’s instructions as he heads around the side toward the alley-facing door. I can do this. Jon is on his heels, and breathing quickly (afraid), and Tim does not like how it makes him feel, how that appeals, how the same patient wickedness that wants to burn the world loves that fear. I can do this, he thinks, and does not believe, and opens the unlocked door. And there—

So it had to be a good dozen people once. Maybe. There are at least twelve heads, faces stretched in terror, lying at obscene angles all over the floor.

And it had to be a good dozen recent people, too, because the blood is still fresh, and the torn limbs are still oozing, and ruptured bowels are still leaking, and Tim gags even as the sound of messy, open-mouth chewing draws his eyes away from the discard pile and to the current smorgasbord.

Three mostly-whole dead people lie there, piled, their flesh sort of crushed together like fisted ground burger, their blood shockingly red, the odor of their offal thick and greasy and bad, and a man crouches over them like something out of a zombie game.

He wears ordinary clothes—a button-down white shirt, horrifically stained, and tan slacks, and polished brown Oxfords, and for no reason Tim spots the expensive FitBit, and the neat round glasses (wire-framed) which sit folded on the floor just out of the splatter zone, and the carefully combed blond hair, and the gore up to his elbows, and the man turns with fresh flesh dangling from his mouth and pupils that have completely overrun whatever color his irises used to be, and he smiles, and flesh falls with a splut from his mouth as he speaks with an American southern accent which makes it all seem more surreal.

“Well,” says the man, standing smoothly, nary a popping knee or hesitation to indicate any kind of stiffness or lack of ability to get them. “I do declare! I didn’t expect you to walk right into my lap.”

Jon gasps. “That’s him! The guy from the hospital!”

The man glances past Tim toward Jon. “Huh,” he says. “Tastier than you were, by golly… but I think I’ll let you marinate a bit more. Now, this, though.” He takes one step toward them, and viscera squishes under his shoe like jelly. “This is a fuckin’ proper feast.”

Run! Hastur bellows.

Tim does not need a second warning.

He does not question his reach for power.

Does not question his choice to grab Jon around the waist like a scared rabbit and bolt, and run, and tear down the alley.

His terror overwhelms any mad desire to stay and burn their enemy down because it didn't work for the others and definitely will not work for him.

Jon screams.

The guy is right behind them, and Tim thinks, briefly, I need to fly! which he does not know how to do, and in desperation and terror and fear, he leaps.

“Hey!” shouts the pupil-void man behind them, below them, and Tim already knows that he has no idea how to do this, and he is not flying, but he has leaped a tall building in a single bound and they are coming down hard a couple streets over, falling as the wind steals Jon’s screams, and he does the only thing he can think to do: he imagines-yearns-demands-commands a portal to the ocean, so they can land without breaking like dropped eggs.

Suddenly they are no longer in the city at all, and smack into the water hard enough to knock out his breath.

The cold salt is a shock, and he already knows Jon inhaled it, and Tim kicks as hard as he can, eyes burning, aiming toward the light because that’s the only way he knows which way is up.

They surface, gasping, coughing, choking, their clothing dragging them down, smacked in the face by careless waves.

There is no land in sight.

Tim is dizzy. Very dizzy. Badly dizzy. “Fuck!” he manages.

Steady! Steady! Whatever invectives or oaths Hastur might have to share, he’s holding them back for now. We work together. Another portal is too much. All we need is a boat. You can do a boat. Summon it, create it. Anything. Even a fucking log. You can do this, Tim! You can do this!

Jon chokes, goes under a grasping wave. Surfaces again, eyes red and streaming, coughing up water.

Tim tries to recall the yacht from the billionaire he slept with. A twinge in his head; no go.

Tim tries to imagine an ordinary sailboat, lovely and new. A twinge in his head; no go.

Fuck it. He imagines a raft from some kid’s book he read, logs strapped together with a truly useless sail. Of course, that works.

And it is any port in a gods-damned storm. Tim gets behind Jon by some miracle and swims backwards, pulling toward that raft, which he wills not to get away from them in spite of the waves that lift them and lift the raft and put it out of their view and dunk them under and—

Hastur’s hand grabs it.

Tim muscles Jon onto it enough for him to pull himself aboard, then manages to climb on after him, gasping. Shuddering. He can feel it coming: exhaustion. Unconsciousness. And yes… he’s probably going to lose another body-part.

He wants to cry. He doesn’t want to lose body-parts. He doesn’t want to be blind, or crippled. Or lost on a raft in rough seas who the fuck knows where.

I’ve got you, says Hastur, his left arm wrapped around Tim, secure and tight. I’ve got you. You saved us. Whatever comes of this, you saved us.

“What… what…” Jon is gasping, and throws up more water.

“Guy from…” Tim clings to consciousness. The sun is horrible. He hates the sun, he decides. “The hospital? The one you texted me about?”

“I forgot about him,” Jon manages, draped over his own waist. “I froze. I… thank you. I froze.” His voice breaks. “He would’ve gotten me, and I’d have stood there. You… you saved me. Again.”

You saved us all.

Tim turns so that awful horrible terrible sun (which he does not picture blowing up because who the fuck knows anymore) doesn’t destroy his remaining eye, and curls on his side. “I’m afraid.”

Jon doesn’t know the reason. He can’t. “We'll find land. We... where the blasted… where are we?”

I know, says Hastur, who does know, and even in this state, Tim can feel that he is not eager, that he is not demanding, that Hastur feels regret. I’ve got you. Whatever comes, I’ve got you.

Tim has to believe him. He can’t stay awake any longer.

I’ve got you, Hastur’s voice says, following him into the dark from which Tim can only hope and pray he returns. I’ve got you. I will never let you go.

[strtrk]

Please amplify Doha's story! Doha is a 19-year-old Palestinian student studying English literature. She's an immensely talented writer. Doha's campaign has been verified by Operation Olive Branch. I've been messaging her via Instagram, and she's told me how much she enjoys reading Japanese literature. Please read Doha's story below:

"Dear Fellow Human Beings,

My name is Doha Hassan, and I want to live.

I’m a Palestinian college student from Rafah, the southern most border in Gaza. Over the past four months I’ve seen the Israeli bombardment on Gaza creep closer and closer to my home.

I am nineteen years old, and I have hopes; I have dreams. I am passionate about reading and learning; and I have so many plans for my life, many of which came to a halt when Israel destroyed my university where I studied English literature. My youngest sister, Dana, is in kindergarten, Leen is in sixth grade and Ameer is in high school. I and my sister Raghad are university students.

Due to the destruction of universities, including my own, I have fallen behind my peers in education. Despite being a second-year college student, I am determined to start afresh and apply for a scholarship abroad. But I also need to be reassured that my family is safe.

Instead of being able to study and enjoy my time with my family, we have found ourselves living in dire conditions imposed by Israel’s genocidal war. Daily airstrikes and bombings have persisted for over four months, depriving us of sleep and leaving us traumatized. This is in addition to having endured 17 years of a siege during which Israel has continued to block essential supplies including food, fuel, drinking water, medicine, and electricity. As resources dwindle, even the most basic necessities become scarce and we often endure long queues just to obtain flour from UNRWA, when it’s available. But since the United States began its campaign to abolish UNRWA even that has become impossible.

Our challenges intensified when my sister fell ill and we were unable to access proper medical care due to Israel’s obliteration of Gaza’s entire hospital infrastructure. Despite our struggles, we opened our doors to provide shelter for displaced friends and family in northern Gaza, sharing what little we had with them and remaining resilient in the face of adversity. There are currently 1.5 million such internally displaced Palestinians in Rafah.

After two months, resources in Gaza became more scarce, compelling us to manually grind wheat to make bread and ration our meals to make ends meet. The hunger crisis gripping Gaza worsened, leaving us sleepless at night as we have been enduring relentless airstrikes and bombings. With gas supplies depleted, we have resorted to cooking and baking bread using coal, exacerbating my father and sister’s respiratory issues.

Despite our resilience, the looming threat is on my family’s doorstep as a ground invasion of Rafah is imminent. We’re not sure which will get us first: Israel’s genocidal war or Israel’s use of starvation as a weapon against Palestinians in Gaza.

We have been hoping against hope that there would be a lasting ceasefire, but the urgency of our situation has compelled us to seek safety in Egypt.

Your generosity and support can make a huge difference in saving our lives. The only way out of Gaza is through the Rafah border, which requires a fee of $7,000 for each adult and $3,500 for each child. The total amount for my family to get out of Gaza is $45,000. My family consists of 5 adults and 2 children. The horror we are living through is unimaginable. The non-stop air strikes and bombings have changed our lives to a battle of everyday survival.

Every contribution, regardless of its size, will help ensure our safe journey out of Rafah towards a more secure place in Egypt. Your generosity will provide us with an opportunity to reconstruct our lives.

With gratitude,

Doha"

[chaggiehearts]

Intro

Hi! Making a little introduction for my blog <3 it’s just a WIP but it got accidentally published without me noticing so I’m not gonna delete it haha I’ll keep updating it when I’m less sleepy

You can call me Ruby. I’m 19 years old, I use she/her pronouns and I’m a lesbian. I’m also neurodivergent (though for privacy reasons I won’t be indicating what I have exactly). I speak both Spanish and English (with Spanish being my native tongue). I love Hazbin Hotel and this blog is entirely dedicated to this show that has taken over my life. I watched the pilot in the summer of 2020 so I’ve been here for a long while, but I didn’t get properly obsessed until the show released :)

As one could have imagined seeing my blog and username, I love chaggie so much, they're my favourite part of the show (as characters and as a ship). I do love the rest of the show too, they’re just my faves

My favorite characters are, in order: Vaggie, Charlie (top 2 and almost in the same rank really), Emily, Lute (my other two faves, almost in the same rank once again), Velvette, Carmilla, Rosie, Niffty and sir Pentious. That being said, I like almost every character. Though I mainly talk about Charlie and Vaggie because #brainrot, you may expect any other character too, specially the aforementioned.

Chaggie is my absolute OTP and around 90% of my posts will be about them. Some pairings I also love are emilute (the fanarts, fanfics and parallels to chaggie convinced me of this one), huskerdust (they’ll be canon some day, trust me), past fallenwings (I heavily support the idea of Vaggie and Lute being exes that ended horribly >:) though I enjoy many interpretations of their relationship because it's so unspecified anything could fit really), royalhalo (I prefer them as parallels/besties, but I can enjoy some cute fanarts/fanfics of them too), guitarspear (idk if platonic or romantic though, I just find their friendship so entertaining despite Adam’s blatant misogyny), velmilla (once again, it was the fanarts and fanfics that sold me on this one), zestmilla (once again, unsure of whether I see them as best friends or a couple, but they're so nice to each other <3), poly!!Vees (listen, idk if they'd be partners or friends, but their dynamic is one of the most entertaining things ever), platonic radiorose (they’re the besties ever) and cherrisnake (they're cutiess).

I tend to tag absolutely every character and ship I post/reblog about, so if anything here makes you uncomfortable don't hesitate to blacklist it :) I also assume that if you've watched Hazbin Hotel you'll be okay with things that are slightly suggestive or sexual but since I understand some people are kinda uncomfortable with it I try to tag some stuff as "cw suggestive". I'm not even someone who posts a lot of sexual things, but I prefer to give a heads up just in case

I'm interested in some other things, namely Project Sekai!, BanG Dream!, D4DJ, Love Live!, Vocaloid (specially the Evillious Chronicles series), Helluva Boss, RWBY, She-Ra and the Princesses of Power, The Dragon Prince, The Owl House, Monster High, Ever After High, Rainbow High, Sanrio, Heathers, Les Miserables, etc. I'm not completely up do date with all these things though, uni sucks. I might make another blog to talk about this stuff eventually but I'd want to keep this blog focused on Hazbin!

I don't tend to do DNIs because I understand bigots don't tend to respect them, but well, if you're someone that discriminates others on the basis of anything and I find out, I'll block you. When it comes to Hazbin Hotel, I don't want to interact with you if you ship Valentino X Angel, Lucifer or Lilith X Charlie, Vaggie X men or Angel X women, those things really make me uncomfortable

As a note, I’m extremely anxious and shy, so it’s difficult for me to DM people first, but I assure you I’m nice and if you wanna chat I’m extremely down for it! Please let’s talk about our favorite characters and ships and plot points and moments pspsps or even things outside Hazbin Hotel, whatever you want :)

Finally, I draw and write. You can find my Hazbin Hotel fanarts tagged as “#my art <3” (though I tend to post them in my art blog and just rb them here). I haven’t posted fanfics yet so idk what I’ll tag them, I’ll see when I get there

[golbrocklovely]

it's been a minute since i posted one of these so..

here’s some of colby’s tweets from 2021.

i don’t have proof that these are his tweets, but believe me, they are his.

if it’s bold and italicized, it’s someone’s tweet to him.

if it’s in (), that’s just me commenting lol

added bonus: if they have a * next to them, that means it’s been deleted

~~~~~~~~~~

Jan. 2 - thank you all so much i love you don’t forget

Jan. 6 - just got yelled at on my walk by a 93 year old grandma it was dope how’s your day goin

on another note , so sad to see what’s been happening today at the capitol .. this is ridiculous. i’m worried.

(the issue with this time period is that colby was getting a lot of heat for shit he shouldn't have been. so… some of these tweets are gonna trigger me, and this is one of them lmao)

Jan. 8 - seems like the older i get the more independent i become

*@/mikes_dead: seems like the older u get the more u forget to call me back headass sorry bb 🖤

don’t crave that personal life human affection like i used to i’m cool with being by myself

always feel like i’m living in a dreamy reality until i get caffeine. blurry vision blurry mind

Jan. 9 - learned how to drive manual for the first then drifted that car today i’m surprised i didn’t kill anyone

you in January

Jan. 12 - fan: hi i love yOu…@/ColbyBrock

hiii i love you

fan: It’s my 2,000 day supporting Sam and colby. That’s fucking insnae man. Mental. I love you 2. Always and forever thank you for being such huge parts in my life @/SamGolbach @/ColbyBrock @/SamandColby

thank you for being a part of our life journey 🙏🏼🖤

Jan. 14 - time to conquer my anxiety

Jan. 16 - tonight , two years ago i was sleeping in a little jail cell wondering how long i’d be in there without Sam. life is fuckin crazy hahah, freedom is a gift

fan: i cant believe that most of the fandom slept on the floor when @/SamandColby 2 years when they got arrested #FreeSamAndColby

the best fans in the world

Jan. 18 - oh how time can heal and change everything

fan: no fr he’s been working so hard and you can really tell. proud of you @/ColbyBrock

thank you darlin

Jan. 19 - my fear won’t be something that i let control the way i live

Jan. 20 - fan: colby ur tweets r always so deep

twitters my personal little mind dump

(wish this was still the case… but i get why he is barely on there)

Jan. 22 - it’s underwater shipwreck dive today

feels good to feel proud of myself

Jan. 24 - fan: @/ColbyBrock can you teach me your ways of being okay with being single bc i’m tired of asshole guys fucking around with my feelings

one day you’ll learn that the only happiness you need comes from within, once you’ve learned to really enjoy youre own company you don’t need anyone else! practice makes perfect 🖤

Jan. 25 - why do i push away everyone who tries to get me to open up?

(what a juxtaposition lol)

Jan. 28 - crows are honestly just death metal chickens

Jan. 30 - don’t wanna jinx this like last time but XPLR gods have definitely been on our side recently again … Alaska has been an adventure of a lifetime

Feb. 1 - don’t let anyone tell you who YOU are and how to think

fan: Currently listening to We Love Our Friends @/SamGolbach @/ColbyBrock @/SamandColby

a bop

Feb. 2 - fan: Thinking about @/ColbyBrock hours

💭🖤

*fan: @/ColbyBrock u should get a tongue piercingggg

*ouchh

fan: As part of 25x25 @/ColbyBrock needs to come out with music

🤫😏

(he needs to come out with more music asap)

*fan: @/ColbyBrock u said no to the tongue piercing what about u getting a nipple piercing??

ouchhh

(what's with fans wanting him to get random parts of his body pierced lmao)

wake me up after valentine’s day

Feb. 4 - what’s one thing you wanna do before you die ?

Feb. 7 - my dream is to show you the beauty in life .. no matter how hard it can get

really opened up on my ongoing experience with anxiety in today’s video , i hope it resonates with some of you. we’re not alone

Feb. 8 - fan: bro @/ColbyBrock do you always get your tats in the early hours of the morning??

yes hahah

just gettin started on this sleeve. lots of work to do

Feb. 10 - fan: @/ColbyBrock I need some advice for anxiety lately my anxiety is playing up and I keeps having anxiety/panics attacks and idk how to calm my self the best thing I can do so far is watch ur vids but still sometimes I just can’t hold it in do u have any advice

box method breathing really helps.. soft music.. meditation. anything that can relax the mind. usually it stems from overthinking so if you can somehow distract yourself with an activity of some sort that could help too 🖤

i’m so emotional sometimes and for what

Feb. 13 - so who’s down to hangout tomorrow

fan: i could really use a hug from @/ColbyBrock rn /: sigh i miss him sm

🖤 sending virtual hugs

fan: Hey Colby … just checking in…. are you okay? Taking care of yourself? @/ColbyBrock

thank you for being so sweet i love you. yes i’m okay i have my good and bad days

Feb. 17 - sang for the first time on camera yesterday

Feb. 20 - this pill that i don’t wanna taste

fan: Are you okay??? Or one of your song lyrics

song lyrics .. probably should have explained that a lil more. it’s not a literal thing i promise hahah

Feb. 22 - damn i miss the big trap house parties we use to throw at our old place. 500 people plus in our living room.. David dobrik always comin in randomly with flame throwers hahah legendary times

Feb. 24 - i was so happy in my dream last night .. felt so real.

simply a wonderful sight to see

Feb. 28 - Dear @/ColbyBrock I would REALLY REALLY APPRECIATE IT IF YOU DYED YOUR HAIR BACK TO BROWN I WOULD REALLY APPRECIATE IT

my purple is pretty much out ! so it’ll be all the way brown soon

fan: Apparently the guys are in Las Vegas and Las Vegas is probably like oh no not these guys again. @/ColbyBrock don't go for a midnight stroll and almost get mugged or kick a cactus this time

palm springs was when the mugging and cactus assault happened hahah but we will do our best to stay outta trouble .. maybe

March 2 - i feel like i don’t fit in with that many people in LA

@/jccaylen: let’s move to Texas.

looking for houses now

March 6 - take a chance with me

head down, headphones in

March 8 - happy #InternationalWomensDay , women are fuckin powerful, thank you for all that you do

(another triggering tweet sksks)

March 10 - maybe i just knew i had to wait for you

March 15 - fan: I just know deep in my soul @ColbyBrock had an angsty sad boi tumblr back in the day and I just wanna scroll thru it. Sir pls hand me the link thx :)

i wish i had tumblr. but wasn’t in to social media until i was like 18. only had a facebook until 2014

(….interesting lol)

fan: @/ColbyBrock do u have any advice on keeping productive on something even though it isn’t ur favourite thing to do but u need to get it done

set goals and make sure you do things in little pieces. if you don’t like something you’re doing just make sure you’re getting it done in the way YOU want to. take it day by day instead of procrastinating and doing it last minute

fan: y r u awake @/colbybrock

same reason you are

March 16 - things change, people change. but in the end i’ll always wish the best for my friends

March 17 - i can’t help but feel this way

March 18 - fan: How can you get through a break up

time. i know that’s a cliche answer. but seriously. distract your mind for a while and you’ll get over it i promise

fan: @/ColbyBrock how often do you not sleep at night because your mind is too loud?

i sleep terribly most nights. i have this weird insomnia that forces me to be up at 3am daily

are any of you hard on yourself for no reason? cause holy shit that’s me daily

fan: Better at picking others up than picking myself up

feel this so hard

fan: please call me sweetheart its my dream deadass

sweeeeeetheart 🖤

fan: @/ColbyBrock what’s your best advice to give to a teen who’s gonna turn 17 next week ? like any tips or tricks you wanna hand down bc i need help

so assuming you’re in highschool, just know that you might think your social circle means the world to you right now .. but everything can change (if you let it) after you graduate. life changes so much after graduation! focus on making good relationships and having fun :)

fan: @/ColbyBrock what’s the first thing you’ll do after all this covid stuff is over?

throw a real trap house party

March 25 - i am becoming a hummingbird father.

@/amberscholl: idk why but this is a VERY hot tweet

can’t wait to show you what i’ve been doing 😈

March 27 - just don’t have the time anymore

March 29 - friday by rebecca black is my anthem

March 30 - should i curl my hair for a youtube video

[italic-doing-random-shit]

all of them. unless you're uncomfortable with any

01: Do you have a good relationship with your parents?

only with my mom

02: Who did you last say “I love you” to?

I last said I love you to panda

03: Do you regret anything?

yep, lots of things

04: Are you insecure?

hell yeah, plenty to not like about me but that’s the anxiety talking

05: What is your relationship status?

taken

06: How do you want to die?

quickly, calmly

07: What did you last eat?

hamburbur

08: Played any sports?

play soccer mainly, but dabbled around

09: Do you bite your nails?

unless I paint them, yes

10: When was your last physical fight?

fourth grade

11: Do you like someone?

yeah, I’m dating them

12: Have you ever stayed up 48 hours?

yep

13: Do you hate anyone at the moment?

I hate actions not people, unless the action is unjustifiable. So like, Israeli military and my dad

14: Do you miss someone?

I miss my moots in a way of ‘we never met but I want you here way’

15: Have any pets?

yep, always lived with dogs

16: How exactly are you feeling at the moment?

really shitty

17: Ever made out in the bathroom?

nope, never even kissed someone

18: Are you scared of spiders?

nah, they’re little guys

19: Would you go back in time if you were given the chance?

nope, might get killed legally

20: Where was the last place you snogged someone?

haven’t yet

21: What are your plans for this weekend?

take a fucking break

22: Do you want to have kids? How many?

maybe, all I know is I want to adopt

23: Do you have piercings? How many?

none, but I want basic earibgs

24: What is/are/were your best subject(s)?

anything art related or english

25: Do you miss anyone from your past?

no, I left them for a reason

26: What are you craving right now?

sleep and cuddles

27: Have you ever broken someone’s heart?

yeah,,,,, I didn’t want to hurt them but I’m not going to date someone I don’t like back. It’s not fair.

28: Have you ever been cheated on?

nope

29: Have you made a boyfriend/girlfriend cry?

I believe so, but we were being sweet and it was a while ago

30: What’s irritating you right now?

school

31: Does somebody love you?

yes

32: What is your favourite color?

red

33: Do you have trust issues?

yes

34: Who/what was your last dream about?

Me, someone was trying to kill me

35: Who was the last person you cried in front of?

my teacher when asking for stock footage

36: Do you give out second chances too easily?

I think but also everyone deserves a new chance

37: Is it easier to forgive or forget?

forgive

38: Is this year the best year of your life?

don’t know, still growing

39: How old were you when you had your first kiss?

haven’t had one

40: Have you ever walked outside completely naked?

when I was like one

51: Favourite food?

Cheese quesadillas

52: Do you believe everything happens for a reason?

yeah, why else would they happen

53: What is the last thing you did before you went to bed last night?

hug my mom

54: Is cheating ever okay?

only on tests that don’t matter much

55: Are you mean?

playfully mean

56: How many people have you fist fought?

three

57: Do you believe in true love?

yes

58: Favourite weather?

summer rain

59: Do you like the snow?

YES

60: Do you wanna get married?

yes

61: Is it cute when a boy/girl calls you baby?

yeah, I love pet names

62: What makes you happy?

a lot of things

63: Would you change your name?

yes, I did

64: Would it be hard to kiss the last person you kissed?

no? I kissed my mom on the check and I’ll do it again

65: Your best friend of the opposite sex likes you, what do you do?

(well as a trans male) if I was single and liked them then maybe but usually I just say I’m not interested and run off embarrassed

66: Do you have a friend of the opposite sex who you can act your complete self around?

not really

67: Who was the last person of the opposite sex you talked to?

Inka

68: Who’s the last person you had a deep conversation with?

my mom

69: Do you believe in soulmates?

yes

70: Is there anyone you would die for?

no, but there plenty of people I’d live for

[whereforartthoumisthios]

Top 10 Movies

I was tagged by the lovely @findusinaweek, thank you!!

I will say I am not much of a movie person so this also has taken me a while to put together. I’ve got like...5, so, sorry if that’s against the rules LOL Under “Keep Reading” cause of gifs lol.

Taggings: I don’t want to double tag anyone so I’m going to tag some new faces: @cringy-username-dream-wanderlust, @tashabanes, @cataliinaa, @no-barbarians-here, @bandsandyoutuberswow, @tangentmusings​ and whoever else wants to. As always NO PRESSURE!

1. Greatest Showman

I know of the many historical inaccuracies in this film but I was so captivated the first time I saw it. The music was so good and I loved the story for what it was. Not to mention, it has Hugh Jackman and Zac Efron and I had my phases with both of them (surely you have too?) so it was perf.

2. Moonwalker

If you been around, you know I’ve loved MJ a long time lol if not, now you do. Is this movie that great in reality? Maybe not. Is it nostalgic for me and includes music videos for some of my favorite MJ songs? You’re gotdamn right it does.

3. Hamilton (Live)

I’m counting this because it’s on Disney+ and so yeah it’s a movie now. Again, well aware of the historical inaccuracies and controversies. But, this was so pivotal for me when it came out and helped me get through some really rough stuff cause I could relate to many of the songs. I also was 19 when about it came out, so “only 19 but my mind is older” really hit different!!

4. Little Mermaid (1989)

Okay, we all had a classic Disney movie we loved as a kid, no? This was mine!! 9 year old me loved this film and pretended to be a mermaid all the time! Though, I still can’t swim and perhaps that’s why I loved it so much lol. Also wanted Ariel’s hair and a dude to fall in love with me LOL

5. Bohemian Rhapsody

Again, there are of course some historical/factual inaccuracies but the cast did so, so well. Rami Malek did a FANTASTIC Freddie Mercury and Gwilym Lee looked JUST LIKE Brian May. It was a very moving bio-pic and the ending had me absolutely sobbing in the theater.