#Experiment 610

[gaiakoraidon]

Girly girl Witch from Stitch!. Besides Darks, she is my favorite experiment from the anime; there ain't a ton of screenshots of her, so I drew her instead!

[vilmublue]

Experiment 610

Witch

Primary function: Subdue and abduct planetary leaders with magic

The only experiment capable of magic. Designed to utilize supernatural forces in order to subdue and abduct planetary leaders. Her powers include intangibility, animation, and various other reality-bending abilities.

After being transmuted by Dr. Hämsterviel according to the contents of a witch sealing book, she is capable of possessing individuals and channeling her powers through her vessel, but also gained a weakness for mirrors (that can force her out of her victims) and chili peppers (that generally hurt her.)

One true place: Unknown

[poughkeepsies]

I was /not/ here for the early days of the coma buck theory, I'm curious what bits of foreshadowing people were clocking, or what bts stuff was tipping people off? Also, have they ever before hidden someone being in serious danger right until the episode airs? Like, we saw plenty of clips/stills/bts that told us someone was getting hit by lightning and that it was probably Buck. I assumed they always showed these things in promos and sneak peeks

for the coma theory, I believe its @loveyourownsmiilee who clocked all the clues first and she also did it early on in 6A which is what's really insane about how fast the fandom came up with the coma theory (I remember in one of the post-ep interviews for 6A the interviewer asked kristen what she thought about the fan theory that buck was gonna end up in a coma and she was like "...no comment" which I found beyond hilarious). but yeah coma buck started because juju and the others noticed oliver's absence in bts during filming and then the bts of him wearing the coma dream outfit which looked super out of character and the other bts of him wearing his recovery outfit and being scruffed, which I believe was the main part of it.

as for the if they hide someone being in serious danger I mean I've only been watching live and in the fandom since the post 5B hiatus so my only experience is with karen and then buck but they definitely didn't try to hide it during those times once it came to promoting the episode. I believe I heard we also knew Eddie was gonna be shot but that could be wrong cause I also heard the shooting scene caught almost everybody off-guard. considering the absolute lack of promo for these last couple episodes tho I wouldn't be surprised if we didn't know about someone (cough christopher cough) being in serious danger.

[cheapshrimpysheep]

hi, is it okay if I request a comfort(?) scenario/headcanons where Leona, vil and rook(separately) has a s/o who starts randomly wearing gloves and hiding their hands from them due to getting really bad contact dermatitis from their work and not really able to do anything about it work wise

COMMENTS: Coincidentally, I myself have problems with dermatitis on my hands. So, perhaps what I wrote comes a lot from my own experience. Especially the thing about using an ointment that worked once and for some reason no longer works. 😅 And having some trouble sleeping because of the itching.

I hope you and all enjoy it ❤️‍🩹

CHARACTERS: Leona Kingscholar / Vil Schoenheit / Rook Hunt

TAGS: Comfort; Fluff; GN Reader

WORD COUNT: An average of 610 words per character

Contact dermatitis is an itchy, inflamed rash that develops when your skin comes into contact with an irritant or allergen. There are two main types: Irritant contact dermatitis and Allergic contact dermatitis.

I decided to go with the first one since Irritant contact dermatitis is the most common type. It's caused by a substance that irritates the skin, such as soaps, detergents, solvents, or harsh chemicals.

CONTEXT: You got dermatitis after cleaning Ramshackle Dorm. It's not the first time, you already had it before, so you think you know how to treat it. Nobody needs to know. So you will take care of your hands at home and whenever you go out you will wear gloves to try to protect them. You'll be fine in no time... Right...?

Leona knew something was wrong the moment he saw you wearing gloves. Nobody starts wearing gloves out of nowhere just because. But he didn't need to ask anything because he saw you moving your hands as if those gloves were uncomfortable. And once or twice he saw you scratching your hands through your gloves and stopping immediately as if you had remembered that you shouldn't do it.

He wasn't going to get involved. At least not if it looked like you were getting better. But on the second day, you still itched. And on the third day, you had bigger dark circles than usual and the itching seemed the same or worse.

You had just returned to Ramshackle Dorm and the first thing you did was take off your gloves and run to the bathroom to treat your hands. Why didn't that get better? You were using the same ointment as last time.

“You should go to the infirmary.” Grim said “Hench-humans should take better care of themselves so they are always ready.” He teases you before showing actual concern. “You're not even sleeping well. I wake up to you scratching yourself every five minutes.”

You won't admit it, but he's right. You should go to the infirmary. Maybe tomorrow. That's what you're thinking when you hear someone knocking on the door. But you can't cover your hands now, the ointment is still working. So you open the door with one hand, using the door hide this one and place the other behind your back.

“Show me your hands.” Leona demands calmly. You look surprised and confused. “Show me your hands.” he reiterates, crossing his arms but still patient.

“Why?” you ask.

“Why are you hiding them?” he asks back. “If everything is normal, why don't you show me?” and smiles smugly.

I mean, he's right. Who opens the door with one hand behind their back. This is very suspicious. You hesitate, but end up stretching your arms in front of you to show your red hands and unhealthy skin.

But Leona isn’t surprised. He barely even reacts. As if you had just confirmed his suspicions. He takes off one of his own gloves and puts it in his pocket, holding one of your hands with his gloved hand while he runs the other carefully over your broken skin, to feel it. Does he know it's not contagious?

“The ointment isn't working, is it?” He sais. You had just put it in your hand, so he definitely felt the moist. He puts the glove back on. “Do you have your keys?”

You say they are on the entrance table.

“So grab them and let's go. Unless you want to be locked out of the dorm.”

“Let’s go where?”

“To the herbivores club party. To the infirmary. Where else? If you don't go there alone, someone has to take you. Don't tell me you forgot where it is?” he smiles smugly again. “And don't make me pick you up. You know I would.”

Vil saw your new gloves. Were you trying to change your style a little? No. That's not it. You were uncomfortable with those gloves. He knows about fashion, the same way he knows when a person is using a piece to hide some part of their body.

After classes you went back to Ramshackle Dorm, took off your gloves and applied the ointment. It had worked last time, but this time it didn't seem to be having any effect. You had just come out of the bathroom, with your hands smeared with pumice, when someone knocked on the door. Damn it.

You can't cover your hands now, so you open the door with one hand, using the door hide this one and place the other behind your back.

“Hello (Y/N)” Vil greets you. “I apologize for the sudden appearance, but can I come in to talk to you about something?”

You think for a second, you can keep hiding your hands behind your back, so you tell him he can come in. He enters and you close the door behind you, always hiding your hands.

“You've never used gloves before. It's not your style.” It didn't sound like he was criticizing you, like he tends to do with a lot of people. In fact, he sounded quite calm and neutral, almost understanding. “If there's one thing I know how to distinguish when someone starts using a new accessory, it's whether they're using it to try to improve their appearance or to hide themselves. And this second one tends to be a sensitive subject. That's why I thought it would be best to ask you in private. Did something happen to your hands? Are you injured?”

You tell him no, that you're not injured. Well, not exactly in that sense of the word at least. You end up telling him the truth about your skin and how it has reacted to cleansing products.

“Dermatitis? Let me see. I want to know how bad it is.” He now has that judgmental look on his eyes. Which makes you hesitate a little, but you are now also at the point of no return.

You take your hands from behind your back and show Vil your red hands and unhealthy skin, without being able to look him directly in the eyes.

“For the Great Seven! And you let your skin reach this point?” he scolds you. “When did this happen? Have you gone to the infirmary already?”

You say you went there the last time this happened and they gave you an ointment, which was what you were applying.

“And is it having any effect?” He asks. You say that, compared to last time, not really. “Then get ready to go to the infirmary.” He thinks for a second if you should protect your hands from the sun, which reminds him of the gloves he saw you wearing that day. “Let me see the gloves you were wearing.”

You go get the gloves and give them to him. He looks at you disapprovingly as soon as he picks them up.

“These cheap gloves? This material is horrendous! It's probably making your situation even worse.” He throws the gloves onto the entrance table. If there had been a rubbish bin there he would have thrown it in there. He takes off his own gloves and hands them to you. “Here, use mine. They are cotton inside.” You hesitate. His gloves? And they must be expensive. “You can keep them. I have many more like these.”

As you put on his gloves, he details his new plans with you.

“We will go to the infirmary and you will hear everything they told you to do and use. After that, we will review all your cleaning products and materials you use that come into contact with your hands and can create this reaction again. If we have to get rid of everything and buy new products we will do so.” You look at him and show your concern about the price of these possible new products. “If they are truly that expensive, I'll buy them for you. Your hands won't go back to this state on my watch. And then you come with me to Pomefiore to analyze your skin and find products to protect and care for your hands. Did you understood?”

Que Adorable! Rook thinks. Trickster really thought they could hide something from me? That really entertain him. Seeing you wearing gloves and trying to hide how uncomfortable you were wearing them and trying not to scratch your hands too much. You reminded him of an animal that tries to hide the fact that it is seriously injured.

Even though it was funny at first, he couldn't see you like this. He assumed what it was from the symptoms you show, but he didn't want to talk to you in front of others. After all, if you were trying to hide it, it's because he didn't want others to know.

He sneakily followed you to Ramshackle Dorm. You opened the door, letting Grim enter first to run to the kitchen for some snacks. You pass the door jamb and it's when you go to close the door that you hear

“Bonjour, Trickster!” Rook’s head pops from the side. He lets out a little muffled laugh at how startled you were. “I spotted yor new pair of glove on your hands. Are you perhaps trying a new look? Merveilleux! It's exciting to try out new accessories to express another side of ourselves, isn't it? However...” His friendly look now changes to that hunter look of his. And the smile of someone who cannot be deceived. “I don't believe that's the real motive you're wearing those gloves. Am I mistaken?”

You don't even know how to answer him. He already knows the truth and you know there's nothing you can do about it. His expression returns to normal, he now has that characteristic resting smile on his face.

“There's no need to be shy with me. I purposely came to talk to you here because I knew it wasn't something you wanted to discuss in public.” And now his smile has faded into that slightly more serious look that he only tends to have when something worries him a little, or when he feels that the situation is not so light. “I saw how you itched your hands, how uncomfortable you were with the gloves. It's a skin problem, isn't it? Maybe dermatitis?”

You don't say anything. It's not necessary. He knows the answer just by looking at you, your face, your posture. And your hands were starting to itch again.

“Please, you can take off your gloves. They are clearly only making your situation worse.” You hesitate. “It really hurts me to see you suffering like this. No matter how damaged your skin is, I know that your hands are as beautiful as the rest of you and that they just need treatment to become très belles again. And if you allow me to help with your recovery, I will do so with the greatest love and care.” He smiles charmingly at you, the type of smile that makes you feel safe.

You take off your gloves, showing him your red hands and unhealthy skin.

“Sacrebleu! What did this to your hands?”

You tell him it was your cleaning products and about the ointment you were using since the last time that happened to you. And, unfortunately, it doesn't seem to be having much effect this time.

“We must go to the infirmary if it's not working anymore.” He proclaims, embodying his dramatic self. “Ooh, your poor, beautiful hands, threatened by something that should assist you caring for your home and yourself. They must be replaced. I will happily help you with it and get you gloves that will protect you in the future. Fear not, my dear Trickster. Shall your hands be healthy once again.”

If you dropped in here out of the blue and want to read more from me, you can find it in my pinned post: INDEX

[wheeboo]

psycho | wen junhui

SYNOPSIS. in which a new patient is assigned for treatment under your care, and you begin to put the puzzles and pieces together to a past case that you thought to have ceased away from your mind. PAIRING. wen junhui x psychologist!reader (ft. nurse!seokmin) GENRE. dark au, mystery, angst, a tiny tiny subtle pinch of fluff, my very first attempt at a psychological thriller :> WARNINGS. LOTS of descriptions and talks about fire, cursing, mentions of death, a mention of cigarettes, descriptions of scars + burns, descriptions of injuries from glass, mention of blood, reader has a small habit of scratching at their arms, jun makes a suggestive comment if you take it that way WORD COUNT. 12.8k

notes: this is for the caratsland event and probably the most complex plot i've tried to execute so far jsdlkfdfsdf. thank you to @slytherinshua for reading this over for me and being my lil confidence boost 💕 feedback would be much appreciated!! pls remember this is all fictional and not at all an accurate depiction of a psychiatric facility!!

another note: also this turned out to be rlly dialogue heavy and jun asks too many damn questions in this istg lmao

PRESENT DAY: 2023

"Dr. L/N, you have a new patient assigned to you in room 610."

You don't glance up from your desk. Instead, you finish reviewing the case notes of your previous patient and nod in acknowledgment to the nurse standing in your doorway, a friendly young man named Lee Seokmin who was a recent hire, as you were told. As you hear the drop of a patient file in front of you, you lean back in your chair and finally get yourself to look up.

"Thank you, Seokmin," You tell him with a soft smile.

Seokmin grins, teeth all-flashy and cheerful. "You're welcome, doctor," before dismissing himself back out of your office.

You turn your attention to the patient file now resting on your desk. As you start to read through the notes, you see it only contains some basic information about the patient: name, age, and a brief overview of their medical and psychiatric history. It's a starting point, but you know that the real work begins when you meet the person behind the paperwork.

"Name, Moon Jun... male, age 27..." You quietly study the file to yourself. The file mentions a history of severe emotional trauma and burn scars due to a fire, which immediately catches your attention in more ways than one. It also mentions extensive facial scarring and a history of therapy that completely lacked significant progress. A part of it is a familiar story in your field𑁋it isn't uncommon for individuals to experience setbacks in their recovery.

But there's something about this patient's history that tugs oddly at your heartstrings.

As you rummage deeper into the file, you come across a brief note from a colleague who had previously assessed Moon Jun, mentioning he had been withdrawn and non-communicative during his stay, displaying anti-social behaviour, sometimes even having random bursts of aggression when approached. You take a mental note of all this in your head.

Closing the patient file, you rise from your chair and adjust the white coat draped around you, before leaving your office. You make your way through the sterile, fluorescent-lit hallways of the psychiatric facility. The environment here is all-too familiar to you; you've spent years navigating these halls. With every door you pass, there hides a different story; a different struggle; a different battle.

Upon finally reaching the room, you hesitate outside the door for a moment. The anticipation and curiosity surrounding you mixes with a touch of uncertainty, almost like fear, as they often do when meeting a new patient. You've been doing this for nearly ten years, and the feeling isn't new.

Then as you come back to your senses, you lift a hand, give a gentle knock to the door, before entering the room. It's dimly lit inside, the curtains ominously drawn on the windows to conceal the sunlight peeking through. A figure sits at the edge of the bed, back turned to you, and the hood of his hoodie pulled low over his head worn over his patient gown.

"Moon... Jun?" You call out softly, trying not to startle him.

He doesn't respond immediately, shoulders tensing at the sound of your voice. After a moment of silence, he slowly turns his head to acknowledge your presence. Half of his face is obscured by a mask, leaving only his dark eyes visible.

"Doctor," he replies gravelly.

His gaze lingers on you as you take a seat in a chair that sat against the wall next to the bed, keeping a respectful distance from him. You've encountered many patients who have initially shown distrust or apprehension, but there's an intensity in the way he looks at you that sends something chilling on the surface of your skin, especially when it's the only part of his face that you can see.

You try to break the ice with a polite smile. "It's nice to meet you, Mr. Moon. My name is Dr. Y/N, and I'll be conducting our therapy sessions during your stay here. Please, make yourself as comfortable as you can."

He slowly nods, but his eyes never leave yours. The mask covering his face makes it difficult to read his expressions.

"Before we begin," You continue, clearing your throat. "I want you to know that this is a safe and confidential space. Our conversations are private, and I'm here to help you in any way I can𑁋to help you heal. You can share as much or as little as you're comfortable with."

You see the way his gloved hands clench together in his lap.

"I can't be healed," he mutters quietly, voice trembling as you sense the hopelessness in his tone. You've heard this phrase many times before during your career.

"I understand that you may feel that way right now," You reply, as soothingly as possible. "but I believe that with time and the right support, healing is possible for anyone. It's a journey, and I'm here to walk it with you. It's a process, and you don't have to go through it alone."

His gaze remains fixed on you, and the unsettling tension in the room lingers, almost palpable that you feel like there's an imaginary barrier between you and him that was enough for you to see this small part of him, while he can see all of you.

"Would you like to tell me a little bit about yourself? How do you feel coming here today?" You ask, hoping to begin the process of establishing some sort of connection.

He uncomfortably shifts a bit on the bed.

"I never wanted to come here," he says flatly. "They say this is a place of healing, but I've seen enough doctors like you. They prod and poke, dig into your past, and in the end, nothing changes. They don't know what I've been through, what I've seen. The scars, everything, they don't heal."

The words that leave his mouth are bitter and sour, yet you could only get yourself to nod sympathetically.

"It's not uncommon for people to feel that way, especially if they haven't found the right support. I want you to know that my approach is different. I'm here to listen, not to prod or poke." You glance down at the file in your hand and flip it over so that you couldn't see any information about him. "You're in control of our sessions, Mr. Moon. We can go at whatever pace you'd like."

He finally seems intrigued by this, leaning in ever so slightly, eyes devoid of colour that seemed to bore straight into yours.

"Control?" he repeats, voice still carrying a hint of skepticism.

You nod once more. "Yes, control. You get to decide what you want to talk about, what you're comfortable sharing, and at what pace. If there are topics you'd like to avoid or take your time with, that's completely okay. We can work together to create a safe space for you."

He seems to be taking in your words. "And... what if I choose not to talk at all?"

You offer a reassuring smile. "Then that's the option we can settle with."

The minutes that tick by seem dreadingly slow, and there's a light that dances in his eyes from the singular light fixture hanging above that almost resembles that of a flame. It doesn't go away even if he blinks, and it draws you in. Just a tiny bit.

"However, is there anything specific you'd like to share with me today, Mr. Moon?" You ask, trying to keep the conversation flowing. "Any thoughts or concerns you'd like to discuss?"

For a moment, it seems like he's about to speak, but then he shakes his head ever so slightly, his hooded gaze still locked onto yours.

"Very well then." You let out a very subtle, shaky breath. It felt almost relieving. Silence it is.

That's what most of the session has come to𑁋sitting in this peculiar silence, feeling his eyes burn a hole right through you. It isn't until the end of the hour that he calls out toward you just as you were about to his exit his room, and you turn back to face him.

"Can you heal me, doctor?" he asks quietly, almost begging in a way. It's unnerving.

All you do is give him a faint smile.

"I'll try my best, Mr. Moon."

FLASHBACK: 2013

"...All I could see were orange and red flames, and the smoke was hurting my eyes. I couldn't breathe𑁋just barely, but it hurt. It was painful. They were getting larger and larger and the screams louder and louder. Everything was gone."

"And what did you do while the fire kept growing?"

"I watched it all happen. I watched it all burn in front of me." The words had sent an eerie shiver up your spine, forcing the pen in your hands to stop mid-sentence. There was a singular pause that had come to follow, a harrowing silence that seemed to stretch into eternity, a subtle quiver in his voice that you barely caught. "There was nothing I could do."

You clicked your pen, its sound echoing in the tense silence. The room seemed to grow colder with each moment that passed.

"But it's all my fault, right?" he had asked, tone so innocent that it itches a part of your heart uncomfortably, but tugged in a way you felt determined to take root of the grief in his chest and rip it apart. And for a moment as you looked in his dark eyes, over his youthful features and guilt-ridden face, you felt that inkling feeling again. "I killed them. It's all my fault."

"None of this is your fault. Blaming yourself for something you couldn't control is a heavy burden to carry," You reassured him calmly, as gently as you could, knowing the power that your own words could cause for someone seemingly lost, troubled, and young. "You saved yourself. You're alive; you did what you could to survive, and you're here to heal. I'm here to help you heal, okay?"

Your reassurance was met with a fleeting smile, but it hadn't quite reach his eyes, yet his gaze peered directly into you as if searching for something in you𑁋you could only think it was hope. Hope that he wanted to heal just as much as you wanted to help him heal. It's your job. This was why you took this job in the first place.

You needed to save people, either from the demons in their minds or the traumas that haunted them. This boy had lost his entire family in a housefire, for God's sake. This was your duty.

"It's not my fault," he had said, and met your eyes, as if searching for approval. "It's not my fault."

"That's right, Hui." You offered him a faint, assuring smile. "It's not your fault."

PRESENT DAY: 2023

"Excuse me, Dr. L/N? Is it okay if I sit here?"

You glance up to see Seokmin holding up a tray of lunch food, returning you from your zoning thoughts. You shoot him a kind smile and a nod, motioning to the empty space across from you for him to have a seat. Usually, you frequently have lunch alone in the comfort of your office where you can tend to yourself in solitude, but today, you might as well welcome the company.

Seokmin sets his tray down and takes a seat, and for some minutes, there's a comfortable silence as you both begin to eat. He seems to notice the tired lines to your face, but he doesn't press on about it.

"Have you been settling in well?" You ask him suddenly, breaking the silence.

"Huh, me? Oh." He's a bit taken aback, cheeks flushed, and you give a soft chuckle. "You could say that. I wanted to try something new after working bedside for the longest time. I didn't think that psych would be a field I was interested in𑁋look where I am now, though."

"That's the thing about this field." You let out a sigh, giving a knowing smile. "It has a way of drawing you in, even if you didn't plan on it."

"It was definitely an experience when I was in nursing school," Seokmin comments eagerly. You felt as if you were talking to a close friend rather than another colleague, and it feels rather refreshing. "and doing ICU was already draining of itself."

You take a sip of your drink, nodding your head. "I can only imagine. It can be quite rigorous."

Seokmin lets his gaze wander over you curiously. "How long have you worked here, doctor?"

"Please, you can just call me Y/N. Unless we're working."

Seokmin smiles. "How long have you worked here then, Y/N?"

You pause for a moment. Thinking about the amount of years you've worked in this field hasn't been a particular thought to come up𑁋time just seems to fly by when it's the only job you've been dedicated to for most of your life.

"Hm, ten years now? I believe this month will mark my ten years here."

Seokmin's eyes visibly widen in awe before responding, "Wow, that's... You must have really seen a lot of things. I really envy you, doctor."

Your smile fades just a bit; it's barely noticeable, though you still hope that Seokmin doesn't see it. You can feel that feeling gnaw at your skin again, something inexplicable, like a sense of foreboding that seemed to be creaking open a door you believed to have firmly shut for good.

But you choose to push it aside, just like you always do, dismissing it perfectly with a mutter of a thank you. It's ironic, considering this is what you do𑁋normally you would tell patients to confront their past and face their fears, but when it comes to your own, you tend to bury them.

There's an itch that crawls up your arms, and you knead at it through your sleeves with your fingers.

Maybe you can get used to this company, though.

"Do you have any kids, doctor?"

The question comes after a click of your pen, and you glance up from the vitals sheet in your hand to see Moon Jun sitting criss-crossed on the bed, gloved hands sitting on his lap and pupils peering curiously over you.

"No, Mr. Moon," You reply, keeping your tone soft, somewhat nonchalant. "I don't have any children."

He tilts his head slightly, almost as if he's studying you like a specimen under a microscope. The mask on his face makes him appear even more enigmatic, his dark, even charming eyes the only feature you can discern.

"No family at all?" he asks. "No husband, wife, or children to go home to?"

"I live alone. My work keeps me quite occupied."

Some silence passes.

"Alone," he repeats, almost to himself, as if savouring the word in his mouth. "Don't you ever feel... lonely though?"

His question hangs in the air like a dark cloud. It's an oddly personal inquiry, but you decide to address it professionally. "Loneliness is a feeling that many people experience at different points in their lives. It's a normal human emotion, and it's something we can work through."

His gaze narrows, and his gloved fingers twitch in his lap. His mask conceals most of his facial expressions, but you can sense an intensity in his gaze.

"I've felt lonely my entire life, you know," he points out as you sit yourself down in the chair in front of him just like all your previous sessions. Despite the considerable space between you two, sometimes you swear you can feel him breathing right down your neck. "Even being in here too, it.... feels like a different kind of loneliness. A place where they put people who are broken. Like me."

"I can assure you that you are not broken, Mr. Moon," You tell him reassuringly. "How are you with meeting the other patients here? Are there any you have been interacting with since our last session?"

He leans back slightly, his gloved hands still resting on his lap, and his gaze seems to drift momentarily as if he's recalling something.

"I think... they are scared of me, to be honest," he answers, eyes crinkling just slightly as if there was a smile playing on his lips right below his mask. "But... perhaps they're all just lost, confused, and weak. They pretend to get better, but they're just putting on a show. It's a bit pathetic, don't you think?"

"It's not uncommon for people in this environment to have their guard up," You tell him. "Sometimes, it's just a reaction to the unfamiliar. Everyone here is dealing with their own battles, just as you are, Mr. Moon."

He chuckles lowly at that. It's the first time you've heard such a sound like that leave his mouth, like a dissonant note echoing in an otherwise quiet room. His masked face gives nothing away.

"Maybe it's because of this stupid mask on my face," he says, touching the mask with the tips of his fingers. "It makes me look like a criminal or a monster."

"The mask might be intimidating to some," You acknowledge, crossing your arms together. "but it doesn't define who you are."

His eyes narrow slightly, though there's that twinge of amusement as he crosses his arms together, mirroring your body language.

"You're not scared of me, right, doctor?"

You meet his steady gaze, his own searching yours from behind the mask. There's a moment of silence, something unspoken lingering in the air.

"No, Mr. Moon, I'm not scared of you," You respond, keeping yourself composed. "I'm here to understand you."

He leans back, that hint of amusement still present on his face.

"I think you would make a great parent, doctor."

The unexpected compliment catches you off-guard for a moment, making you briefly at a loss for words. There's a slight blush that crawls up your cheeks, and you clear your throat, trying to regain your composure.

"Thank you." You give an appreciative smile. "That's very kind of you to say."

You see that flickering flame in his pupils again. It's a fire that seems to burn brighter with each passing minute, and it leaves you both intrigued and uneasy.

FLASHBACK: 2013

"I told you not to call me that!" Hui exclaimed angrily in frustration, his face turning a shade of red as he glared at you. The sudden outburst had caught you off-guard, and for a moment, found yourself at a loss for words. His face contorted with volatile frustration, and his hands clenched into fists.

"I apologise," You said calmly, doing your best to defuse the situation. "I didn't mean to upset you. What would you like me to call you then?"

He took a deep breath, visibly trying to calm himself down. His shoulders slumped, and his expression softened slightly.

"Just call me by my nickname, okay?" he urged, voice a tad less sharp now, but it's still enough to pierce. "Hui is fine. I hate my name! It's ugly. I want to forget about it𑁋I want everyone to forget about it! That name doesn't exist anymore, got it?"

"Of course, I understand." You leaned back forward in your chair, slow and cautiously. "But I want you to tell me why you stole crayons from Chaewon earlier in the rec room."

Hui only scoffed in response. "It's not that big of a deal. I only took a few from her. She'll forget about it."

"You took something from someone else without permission, Hui," You explained matter-of-factly. "That's a violation of their personal space and boundaries."

Hui's focus darted around the room for a moment, lips pursed and fingers messing around with the frays of his hospital gown. Then his gaze hardened once more as he landed back on you. His silence was almost unsettling as it stretched between you, but you remained patient, waiting for him to offer an explanation.

"Fine, whatever," he muttered, finally relenting. "I wanted them for a project I'm working on, that's all."

"A project? What kind of project?"

"Back in group therapy... They wanted us to create something meaningful or something𑁋something that means a lot to us, and I needed the crayons for it. So I took them from her."

It took a couple of moments before you nodded, acknowledging his explanation. "I see, Hui. It's important to express yourself through art or projects, but it's also important to respect others' belongings. Try asking for what you need instead of taking it without permission, okay?"

Hui's response was a simple, noncommittal nod, eyes holding onto yours a moment too long.

"Now, the next time you're back in the rec room, please say sorry to Chaewon whenever you see her, okay?"

Again, all he did was nod begrudgingly, his expression showing a hint of reluctance.

"Good." You gave him a proud smile. "That's all for today. Tell me about your project next session, alright?"

You felt his eyes on you as you grabbed your case notes and stood up, before leaving him in his room. And even though you were out of his room, you swore you could still feel the weight of his gaze on you.

PRESENT DAY: 2023

You find Moon Jun sitting on the edge of the bed once entering inside of his room, gloved hands folded neatly in his lap. The mask obscures his face as usual, but his dark eyes lock onto yours the moment you walk inside. The dim lighting in the room casts long shadows on the walls, and you find yourself drawn into those shadows as you take a seat across from him.

"Good afternoon, Mr. Moon," You greet warmly, taking your usual seat across from him. "How has your day been so far?"

He doesn't immediately respond. There's a hint of curiosity in his hooded eyes, but it's devoid of warmth. It's subtle, almost imperceptible, but you've learned to pay attention to the smallest details when dealing with patients over the years. It still sends a shiver down your spine.

"Just been like any other day in this place," he finally replies coolly.

You offer a polite smile and proceed with the session. "Is there anything specific you'd like to discuss for today's session, Mr. Moon?"

He thinks for a moment, tapping his gloved fingers lightly against his knee. The rhythmic sound seems to echo in the room.

"Are you interested in mythology, doctor?" he asks, and the question was certainly something you didn't expect him to ask. He continues, "I've always had an interest in it growing up, so I was wondering if you did too."

You chuckle quietly. "I wish I could say the same, but... I guess I found it intriguing at times."

"Surely you must have heard some stories though." He giggles at this, unclasping his hands together and propping himself right at the edge of the bed so that he's leaning forward, his masked face closer to yours. The dim light makes it hard to see his features clearly, and the shadows in the room seem to grow darker, more pronounced. "Are you familiar with the creature, the phoenix?"

You pause for a moment to think, before giving a slow, careful nod. "I've... definitely heard of it."

"The phoenix," he murmurs, voice a soft, hypnotic cadence. "It's a beautiful creature of rebirth and fire, isn't it?"

The mention of fire makes you shift slightly in your seat.

"Mr. Moon, I'm not entirely sure where you're𑁋"

You're interrupted as he leans even closer, his masked face now mere inches from yours, his dark eyes locking onto yours with an intense and unsettling focus. The shadows play tricks on your vision, making it feel like the walls are closing in on you.

"I just find it fascinating," he continues. "The idea of burning away the old and rising from the ashes anew. It's like a fresh start, a chance to be reborn. Do you believe in second chances, doctor?"

You swallow the lump in your throat. His intense gaze, shrouded by the mask, seems to hold you almost captive and confined to the chair you sat on, and his words seem to echo in the confined space.

"I... I believe that everyone deserves a chance to heal and grow, Mr. Moon," You respond carefully, trying to regain your composure. "But it's also important to work through the past before embracing the future."

He tilts his head slightly, as if considering your words. The room remains eerily quiet, the shadows deepening around you.

"Do you believe people can truly change?" he asks, voice softer now, almost pleading.

You take a deep breath, feeling the weight of his question sitting right on your chest.

"I believe that change is possible, Mr. Moon," You reply gently, choosing your words with care. "People have the capacity to grow and evolve, and to make choices that lead to a more positive outlook. But this varies from person to person𑁋if they are willing to put in the effort to do so."

For a moment, the tension in the room seems to dissipate slightly. The shadows on the walls appear to retreat, and the dim light feels less suffocating.

"Doctor," he finally speaks, voice low despite only being the two of you in the room, like he's telling you a secret. "what if... those flames of the past have burned too brightly, leaving nothing but ashes behind?"

You furrow your brows. "I-I would say𑁋"

"It's what happened to me, doctor, don't you understand?" he snaps suddenly, standing up from the bed to step closer to you. "You can't possibly understand what it's like to fucking lose everything, to watch it all burn in front of your fucking eyes! This is why I did this𑁋I put my life into the phoenix. I burned what was left of me, and now I'm here, in this absolute hellhole."

"Mr. Moon, I need you to calm down, please𑁋"

There's a flash of anger that shoots through his eyes, the flame burning in his pupils brighter than before. The atmosphere grows tense in the snap of a finger, and you instinctively stand up to bring yourself in the direction of the door to the room, maintaining a safe distance, acutely aware of the limited space and the fact that you're alone with him. There's an emergency button within reach where you can call for help whenever needed.

You can't get yourself to respond, feeling frozen from the way you can feel your heart pounding anxiously in your chest from his close proximity. He takes a step back, his hands trembling slightly as he clenches and unclenches them. The room seems to regain a semblance of normalcy, but the tension still lingers in the air, and you still can't move.

You watch as he cowers back towards the bed, leaving you standing next to the door. You felt as if you've been holding your breath, like you were submerged underwater and your fight or flight instincts were kicking in.

"You won't give up on me, right, doctor?" he asks, and the way he says it so weakly, naively, makes your head spin. "You can trust me, right?"

You smooth out your white coat, placing yourself back down in the seat across from him anticipatingly.

"I... I trust you," You mutter meekly. "I won't give up on you."

The corner of his eyes crinkle again. He's smiling. You can see it through the mask.

"How lovely," he states sweetly. "We're on the right track, then."

"Y/N𑁋I mean Dr. L/N, are you okay?" Seokmin's voice comes up from behind as you walk yourself towards your office, feeling completely and utterly scatterbrained from the events of the past hour.

As Seokmin's voice reaches your ears, you take a deep breath to steady yourself. You turn to Seokmin and offer him a reassuring smile, though it doesn't quite reach your eyes, but seeing him in front of you already makes you feel a tad bit better.

"I'm fine, Seokmin, thank you." Your voice carries a hint of exhaustion and residual unease. "Just a challenging session, but I'm okay."

Seokmin just nods, but as you were about to turn around, he says, "If you... uh, ever need someone to talk to or anything, just know I'm here for you, okay? It can be tough, I've heard."

You smile gratefully at him, this time genuinely reaching your eyes. It feels like a breath of fresh air talking to him.

"Thank you," You tell him. "I might just have to take you up on that someday."

Seokmin scratches the back of his neck shyly and returns your smile with a warm one of his own. "Well, you know where to find me."

You stand still for a moment as Seokmin begins to dismiss himself away to resume his rounds, but just then, you feel a sudden idea pop up in your head.

"Seokmin, wait!" You exclaim after the man, who immediately turns around to the sound of your voice, peering at you worriedly. "Actually, there's something... Could you do me a favour?"

His eyes light up curiously. "Sure, what do you want me to do?"

You step up closer to him, looking around to ensure no one else was listening in.

"Can you help find me more information about the patient in 610?" You lean in, lowering your voice to a hushed tone. "I'd like to know more about his background, more than what's in his file right now, or just anything that might help me understand him better."

Seokmin raises a brow briefly but nods either way. "I'll see what I can do, Dr. L/N."

FLASHBACK: 2013

The rec room was buzzing with activity as you entered, giving a chance for patients to interact with others and engage in activities outside of their rooms. Laughter, conversation, and the occasional burst of youthful energy filled the air; it’s a striking comparison to the somber atmosphere of the individual therapy sessions you usually conducted.

As you glanced around to find Hui, you finally caught sight of the boy sitting alone at a table in the very corner of the room. He appeared seemingly engrossed on the piece of paper in front of him, an array of crayons sat on the table. His focus was so intense that he seemed completely oblivious to the world around him.

You approached Hui's table with a gentle smile. "Hui, how are you doing today?"

Hui looked up from his drawing, eyes meeting yours briefly. "I'm fine," he replied coldly. "Just drawing."

You glanced down at his artwork, which depicted a scene of fire and destruction. The flames consumed a house, while stick-figure people screamed in the windows, their tiny, distorted faces twisted in agony. The only colours there would be that of the orange and red gigantic flame that enveloped the jagged, blackened lines of the house.

"That's... quite a powerful drawing, Hui," You commented as you took a seat right next to him. "What made you choose this subject?"

He shrugged nonchalantly, eyes not leaving his paper. "It's just what I felt like drawing."

"Is this supposed to represent what happened to your family?"

Hui only continued to mindlessly colour his drawing, his crayon moving across the paper with deliberate strokes.

"Maybe," he replied stoically. "I saw it all happen, but I couldn't do anything."

You studied Hui's face for a moment, but his expression remained blank, his focus entirely on the drawing. His mien was calm, almost eerily so, in comparison to the disturbing scene of destruction right below his fingertips.

"Can you tell me more about what you saw, Hui?" You asked him.

He glanced at you briefly, and for a moment, you thought you saw a flicker of something in his eyes. But it was gone so quickly that you couldn't be sure if you had imagined it.

"I already told you," he pressed. "I saw the fire, and I watched everything burn. It wasn't my fault that it happened."

You nodded, acknowledging his words, and continued to watch him work on the drawing.

"Did you ever feel sad about what happened, Hui?" You questioned.

Hui's face only remained impassive as he answered, "It won't change anything."

You could only think about all the trauma he must have endured𑁋from losing his family and being the sole survivor of such a ruinous event, to having to deal with all the emotions at once that it must feel almost numbing inside of him.

"Did anyone help you during or after the fire, Hui?" You prodded calmly.

He still didn't look up from his drawing. "Some firefighters came, and they put out the fire. But they couldn't save my family."

You felt that pang of sympathy for Hui as he mentioned the firefighters' futile attempts to save his family all while he was waiting right outside the house. It was clear that the traumatic experience had locked his emotions away behind a stoic, desensitized façade.

"I'm sorry to hear about your family, Hui," You said softly. "It's completely okay to feel sad or angry about what happened."

Hui's hand paused briefly in its colouring, but he didn't look up. You glanced down to the paper, noticing that he was drawing something in the corner, almost appearing like some sort of bird, like some sort of crow or cardinal.

"I don't feel much about it anymore. It's just the way things are."

Your eyes drift from his drawing, concern deepening, but you understood that emotional numbing was a common coping mechanism for trauma survivors. In a way, it's like a protective shell around oneself to prevent further pain. The emotional scars ran deep, and sometimes, it was easier for them to keep their feelings at bay rather than confront the overwhelming grief and sorrow that lurked beneath the surface.

That is what you attributed with Hui𑁋what you always had when he first came here. And you promised him patience and that it took time to fully heal.

"I'll leave you be now, okay?" You stood up from the seat, giving the young boy a reassuring squeeze to the shoulder.

Hui doesn't respond, still engrossed in his drawing. You took a step back, leaving him to his artwork, and decided to check on some of the other children in the room for the time being.

You swore you could feel his eyes on you as you walked away.

PRESENT DAY: 2023

Your eyes are practically lasering holes right through the manila folder of Moon Jun's file.

The file only houses the basics𑁋his medical history, therapy notes, and observations from the staff. But there's something missing, something you can't quite put your finger on. His background information is limited, and there are no records of any family members or relatives listed. It's as if he appeared out of nowhere.

A knock on your office door makes you jump, and you quickly open your eyes to see Seokmin standing there with a stack of papers in his hands, concern etched on his face.

"Sorry, did I startle you?" he asks, stepping inside your office.

You offer a tired smile. "A bit, but it's okay. Come in."

Seokmin walks further into your office, closing the door lightly behind him. He takes a moment to study your expression, clearly noticing the exhaustion and frustration on your face. You let out a sigh and lean back in your chair, rubbing your temples with your fingertips as Seokmin sits down right across from you.

"So, I tried to do some digging, as you asked." Seokmin places the stack of papers on the desk. "It wasn't easy to look into his medical history, but I think this might be important."

You straighten up in your chair, your exhaustion momentarily forgotten as you lean in to examine the stack of papers Seokmin has brought. However, what you expected is to see information regarding him, but instead, you see news reports.

"I... I don't know if any of these can be related, but I found a few unsolved cases of arson over the years. It might be the cause of his facial scarring," Seokmin explains. "I think one of them happened at an orphanage, another at an abandoned warehouse nearby, and another at a small church a few miles from here."

You carefully pick up one of the articles and start to read the details. The article mentions a fire at an orphanage several years ago that resulted in the tragic loss of lives. The incident remained unsolved, with no clear cause identified. Then you come across another article about the fire at the warehouse, and it, too, was a case that had perplexed investigators, leaving it unsolved.

"...and I also think there was one about a family from around... nine? Ten years ago? I didn't read all the details of it, but I believe only one survived𑁋"

That's when you feel your heart drop all the way down to the ground, into the ground at that point, eyes widening as the gasp that leaves your mouth cuts Seokmin off. You're already standing up, fingers trembling, as you frantically shuffle through the articles he had provided for you.

"Where can I find that one? Is it here?"

Your adamancy surprises Seokmin as he scrambles through the papers before taking one out and offering it to you. You take the article from his hands. The paper is slightly crumpled, and the ink is faded, but the headline is still clear: "Family Tragedy Claims Lives, Sole Survivor Emerges."

The only survivor was a teenage boy, whose name was redacted from the article for privacy.

But you know exactly who it is.

The article describes how he had been found by the firefighters, huddled on the lawn outside the burning house, his eyes blank with shock. Authorities had attempted to investigate, but the case quickly went cold due to lack of evidence. It also mentions that the boy had lost his entire family that night and was assumed to be too traumatised to provide any coherent information about the fire's cause, which later caused him to be sent to a psychiatric facility due to the trauma.

"Doctor, what is this?" Seokmin interrupts your thoughts as he brings up another paper from view.

You glance up from the article to meet Seokmin's gaze, the urgency in his eyes mirroring your own. He unfolds it carefully, and as your eyes scan the headline, your heart sinks further: "Tragic Fire Engulfs Local Psychiatric Facility."

As you read through it, you swear you feel the same flames dancing up the skin of your arms. This article reports a fire that occurred exactly ten years ago at the very psychiatric facility where both you and Seokmin currently work. You were there that night. It was only your first year as a psychologist at the facility, still learning the ropes of your profession. The memories you've long tried to suppress come flooding back.

The sound of alarms blaring, the acrid smell of smoke, the frantic efforts to evacuate patients, and the feeling of utter helplessness as the flames consumed parts of the facility. It had left scars on your soul, scars you thought you had buried deep over the years.

That boy was one of your first ever patients.

Your arms are itching again, and you can almost feel the searing heat from that night a decade ago.

"Y/N, are you... are you okay?" Seokmin asks. You can see the worry in his eyes, but you're not sure if you can answer his question.

You swallow hard, your throat dry as you try to find your voice. "Yeah, I just... Sorry, reading this article, and..."

That's when Seokmin gets it. "Were you..." His eyes lower down to where one of your hands is clawing anxiously at the sleeves of your arm, and he immediately takes away the article from view. "I-I'm sorry, I shouldn't have brought it up. I didn't know you were..."

You manage a weak smile as you bring your arms back down to your side, hugging yourself instead. "It's alright. You didn't know."

Seokmin doesn't seem entirely convinced, for a moment feeling stuck on what to say. "Are you sure that you're up for this? We can always𑁋"

"Yes," You say boldly. "It'll be okay."

You take a deep breath.

"I'll be okay."

"You seem troubled today, doctor."

In the dimly lit room, Moon Jun's observation is shrewd as always, whose calculating eyes seem to analyse every twitch of your expression as you both sit in the room together, right across from each other, with him hovering over you while you felt feeling like a cowering mouse trapped in a cage.

You flash him a faint, grateful smile. "I appreciate your concern, but let's focus back on you now, shall we?"

"Uh-uh, doctor," he taunts, crossing his arms together and shaking his head dismissively. Even in the darkness of the room, you swear you see his lips curl into a smirk under that damn mask of his. "If I'm not mistaken, you said at the very beginning that I have control over what I want to talk about in our sessions. I realise I hardly know anything about you! Isn't that funny? I consider you a dear friend, you know. You're the only person in this place who even makes the effort to talk with me."

The weight of his words suspend like a dense fog. You can hear the faint hum of the ventilation system, see the way the lone light fixture in the room seems to flicker intermittently. It plays tricks on your perception, making his features appear to morph and shift, all while his eyes are practically dissecting you.

"Friendship... is built on trust," You reply cautiously. "But our sessions are designed for your benefit. My role here is to help you, not the other way around, and my personal life is not relevant for this."

He leans in closer, his eyes never leaving yours, and you can feel his intense focus like a physical weight. You're caught in the gravitational pull of his eyes, his relentless gaze that seems to strip away your defenses. "But, doctor, how can you truly help me if you don't open up a little?"

He tilts his head, the mask inches away from your face, his eyes boring into yours.

"We could be more than what we are right now, couldn't we, doctor?" he whispers, feeling his cold breath against your skin even through the mask, and you close your eyes. "I could make you feel things you've never felt before𑁋"

"Stop! Please!" You yell out unexpectedly, hearing nothing but the unsteadiness of your breaths and the echo of your own voice in the dim room. Your eyes snap back open; he's not hovering over you, and the disturbing scenario you had just experienced was nothing more than a figment of your imagination.

Instead, Moon Jun is calmly seated away from you, watching you intently from the bed. There's a curious glint in his eyes, one that suggests he's found your reaction to be rather... entertaining.

"Doctor, you do seem to be quite troubled today," he remarks almost playfully, voice dripping with amusement that shoots goosebumps up your skin. "Seeing things, aren't we?"

You can't quite find the words to respond, and the sensation of his cold breath against your skin still lingers in your memory.

"You must think about me a lot, day and night possibly, if you imagine such things," he teases, and you feel the way his words crawl under your skin. "You probably wonder what lies behind this mask of mine, don't you? You're a special friend𑁋perhaps you deserve to see it."

You watch the way his gloved fingers toy with the edges of his mask, and for a moment, it seems like he's contemplating something. The room is so silent that you can hear your own heart pounding in your chest.

Then without warning, he reaches up and slowly starts to peel off the mask, revealing the face hidden beneath. Your breath catches in your throat as his visage is unveiled.

His face is tainted by a network of scars, the skin tissue looking raw and discoloured. The scars extend from his jawline up to his cheeks and forehead, giving his face an almost grotesque and nightmarish appearance. Some scars look like they were caused by something sharp, while others appear more like burns. There were also some that seemed almost... fresher than others. His lips, once hidden by the mask, are twisted into a smirk that sends shivers down your spine.

"You wanted to see, didn't you, doctor?" he asks, voice low and taunting. "You wanted to know what's behind this mask."

You can't tear your gaze away from his disfigured face, and you're overwhelmed by a mix of curiosity, horror, and a strange fascination.

"Are you surprised, doctor?" he continues, voice now tinged with mockery. "Do I look like a monster to you?"

You can't seem to respond just yet, eyes still peering over him as if trying to discern the features of his face. There's this wave of familiarity that seems to hit you, as if you've seen those certain details before. A nagging feeling tugs at the corners of your memory like a half-forgotten dream.

You squint, trying to connect the dots between the disfigured face before you and the dim recollection buried deep within your mind. The way the scars twist and curl, the faint traces of burn marks𑁋it's all so eerily and hauntingly familiar. You swear you've seen those eyes before. He watches your expression closely, as if he can read your thoughts, and those eyes that seem to follow your every move, your every thought𑁋

And then it hits you. It hits you like a freight train on the tracks that was beyond avoidable. It hits you like a tidal wave crashing against the shore of your conscience, leaving wreckage to be abandoned and forgotten forever in its wake. It hits you like a thunderstorm tearing apart a peaceful, sunny day.

"Hui...?" is all you manage to choke out.

Images from the past flash before your eyes𑁋Hui, the young boy you once knew, whose face was marked with troubled innocence and a haunting vulnerability that had drawn you to him in the first place. You had watched him grow, had nurtured the fragile trust he had placed in you. You recall your early sessions together, hearing all the painful details of the fire that had torn his life apart.

His smirk deepens, and his eyes gleam with an uncanny satisfaction.

"Hui died ten years ago, doctor," he says with a cold, haunting certainty. "He died in that same fire that set this place ablaze. I'm sure you remember that very well, don't you?"

The room seems to close in on you, and the memories of that fateful night come rushing back like a torrential downpour. The fire, the chaos, the screams. It had been a nightmarish scene, etched into your memory like the faint scars that plague your arms from that very night.

But before you could respond, you felt something vibrate in your pocket. It's the end of your session.

FLASHBACK: 2013

The fire alarm rang.

It was blaringly loud, completely jolting you out of your chair in the silence that carried through your office. Your heart raced as the panic had begun to sink in, the blood-red light of the alarm painted the muted colours of your office walls with a surreal, macabre-like glow, and the acrid scent of smoke was beginning to fill your lungs.

You reached for the door handle, but your trembling hands fumbled, and it wouldn't budge. You tried again and again, the cold sweat on your palms making it even more difficult to grip.

"Wh-What the hell?" You shakily muttered to yourself, before bringing your fists up to pound on the door. "Hello? Someone help me! I'm in here! Someone!"

The panic intensified as the fire alarm continued its relentless wail as you continued to pound on the door. Smoke started to seep in from the edges of your office door, and you could feel the heat of the flames approaching. You coughed, choking on the sharp fumes that stung your throat. It felt like the walls were closing in on you. Fuck, fuck, what do you do? How the hell was the fire spreading so fast?

You were trapped. You were going to die.

The windows! You remembered the windows. Desperation drove you to the large window on the wall. Instinctively, you grabbed a chair and used it to break it, the sound of shattering glass ringing in your ears, the shards grazing against your skin and the palm of your hands, making you let out a sharp gasp. Blood trickled from the cuts on your hands, and as you peered down to the ground below, you realised that you were too high above the ground for a safe jump.

The fire was only getting closer and closer.

As you hesitated by the shattered window, a muffled voice from the hallway reached your ears. "Is anyone in there? We're trying to get you out!"

Your eyes widened as you stumbled back to the door. "I'm in here! Please help!"

"Step back! We're breaking down the door!"

You stepped back from the window as much as you could and away from the smoke, feeling the flames inching closer. Your vision blurred as you fought to breathe, eyes stinging with tears from the dry air.

Moments later, a loud crash resounded through the room as the door burst open. A group of firefighters rushed in, their protective gear making them look like otherworldly figures emerging from the haze. They quickly located you, wrapped you in a fire-resistant blanket, and led you to safety.

Once you were outside, an emergency medical team checked you over for any injuries, plastered up your arms, and administered oxygen. You were shaken, bruised, and suffering from smoke inhalation, but you were alive. Somehow. In some way.

Then, you found your mind drifting back to Hui. Did he manage to get out safely? Where was he? Questions swirled in your mind as you watched the firefighters work tirelessly to contain the blaze. God, he must not be in the right state of mind after witnessing yet another fire himself.

"Excuse me..." You weakly called out to a paramedic, voice barely a whisper.

The paramedic turned to you, concern etched on their face beneath their protective gear. "Yes, are you okay?"

You swallowed hard, barely getting your words together. "I was in there... in the building. I have some patients... uh... Do you know if they made it out? I need to know if they're safe."

The paramedic exchanged a glance with another passing colleague, eyes hidden behind their mask, before returning back to you and shaking their head.

"We're still searching for survivors and dealing with the fire," they explained. "We can't give you any information right now. I'm truly sorry. I'll let them know to keep a lookout. Can you describe them for me?"

You described what your other patients and what Hui looked like as much as you could, and the emergency worker took down all the information before walking away to tend to others.

The silence that followed was suffocating, perhaps even more than what you endured inside the building, and you found it difficult to hold back tears of frustration from flowing down your face.

As the smoke gradually dissipated and the flames were brought under control, the once-deafening alarm was reduced to sporadic chirps and the occasional distant rumble of falling debris. The scene around you was one of destruction, merely charred remains of a place that was filled with hope and healing.

You glanced down at your trembling, injured hands and arms and see the cuts from the shattered window, yet the physical pain was nothing compared to the anguish in your heart, and the fear and guilt that gnawed at you. You lost patients whom you had sworn to protect, had sworn𑁋no, promised to heal.

It was only when the search and rescue teams began to wind down their efforts that you realised the search for Hui had come with no results. All of your other patients were safe, but him. There was no sign of him anywhere, as if he slipped off the face of the earth.

A firefighter approached you some time later, his face covered in soot appearing both exhausted and empathetic.

"I'm sorry," he spoke, voice heavy with regret and defeat. "We've searched every area we could access, but we haven't found anyone else. The fire was intense, and... I'm truly sorry."

His words hit you like a hammer blow, and you felt your heart sink even further. You had dedicated your life to saving others, and yet it seemed that you might have failed to save one.

"Thank... Thank you for trying," You mumbled to the firefighter, nodding in acknowledgement. "And thank you for risking your lives to save us."

PRESENT DAY: 2023

The clouds outside obscure any hints of sunlight, and the overcast sky casts a sad, grey hue over the world outside. The room feels dim and lonely despite the overhead lights. You try to ignore that particular gnawing feeling to your skin as you sit at your desk, waiting for your next session with Moon Jun to start. It'll happen anytime now𑁋perhaps the more you anticipate will make time go by slower.

However your thoughts are interrupted by the soft knock at your door, and you look up to see Seokmin standing there. He offers you a warm smile as you motion for him to come inside, and you swear you see small ray of sunshine break through the clouds outside at the corner of your eye.

"Hey, how're you holding up?" he asks. "I wanted to check up on you."

You tilt your head a bit giddily at the sight of him. "We just had lunch break together, Seokmin."

He rolls his eyes at this, scratching the back of his neck bashfully. "I know, I know, but I... Well, is there a rule here that says I can't see you twice in one day when we're not working?"

Your lips purse together thoughtfully. "I guess not."

"Good." He grins, but it's quick to fade once he takes another look at you. "so... how have you been?"

The soft concern in Seokmin's voice is almost like a comforting hug for your ragged nerves. Normally it's your duty to ask your patients those kinds of questions, not the other way around. You offer him a tired but appreciative smile as he settles into the chair across from your desk. It's a rare moment when the roles are reversed, even if it's just for one short minute.

"You look tired," Seokmin points out, and it makes you let out a chuckle, even though it's tinged with weariness.

"You have a good eye, Seokmin," You reply playfully, and he blushes at this. "Do you want to know what I've been dreaming about the past few weeks?

Seokmin thinks about it for a second, then his eyes widen slightly.

"Is it... the fire?" he queries, hoping there's that small chance he might be wrong.

Your steady gaze meets his.

"Yes," You admit casually. "It's always the fire."

Or specifically, it's the fire and the guilt that you weren't able to save anyone, and it had been eating away at you ever since that fateful day.

His face softens at this, then he feels himself hesitate for a brief moment, before slowly reaching out to place his hand over yours on the desk. His touch is warm and reassuring, and you can feel the genuine concern in his eyes.

"I-I'm sorry you have to go through that, I wish there was a way I could... you know, stop you from reliving those kinds of things." His words make your lips twitch upwards, and he knows he's done something right. He finishes your smile with one of his own. "But... you're not alone in this. Just know I'm here."

"You've been helping me this entire time, Seokmin," You assure him. "If anything, I should be the one thanking you."

The weight of all the memories and unhealed scars left behind still cling to you like shadows. But in the presence of Seokmin, the burdens seem a little lighter, the darkness a bit less suffocating. The room seems a bit less lonely as you both sit there, just like all the days you eat lunch together where you seem to look forward to seeing him sit with you, and the sound of the clock ticking on the wall serves as a reminder that time keeps moving forward.

Before you know it, it's as if you've been struck by a gong that you could only hear, and you knew it was time to move forward with your session. You take your hand away from Seokmin as you stand up, and he follows suit.

"Y/N, wait, um..." Seokmin stops you before you could leave, and you turn back to him. "If something bad happens, or if you need anything, don't hesitate to reach out to me, even outside of work. I... want to make sure you're okay."

His words warm your heart, and you shoot him a thankful look.

"I know I can," You say, while opening the door to the outside of your office. "Thank you, Seokmin."

When you enter inside room 610, you spot Moon Jun sitting on the chair that you were supposed to sit in, his posture relaxed and arms crossed almost impatiently. He didn't wear the mask on his face, and he appeared confident, somewhat smug. It was the only other chair in the room. The other place for you to sit would be... the bed. This isn't how a typical therapy session begins.

"Doctor, I was just thinking about you!" he exclaims excitedly. "Please, go ahead and sit down on the bed. I thought it would be great to change things up a little. You wouldn't mind, would you?"

You hesitate for a moment, glancing between him and the bed. Maintaining your professionalism, you make your way to the bed and sit down, folding your hands in your lap. Something brushes against your leg for a moment, you look down to see a sheet of paper sitting next to you, and a plethora of crayons resting on top.

"Please bare with me for the mess, I was busy drawing before you came in," he tells you, voice almost cheery and... delighted?

As you sit on the bed, his demeanour only raises more questions than answers. He appears unusually relaxed, and his eagerness is disturbing. It's unlike him.

"Of course, that's fine with me," You tell him casually.

There's a grin that spreads across his scarred face, and it brings an uncomfortable twist to your stomach, but you don't let it show, though at this point you feel that he can sense your nervousness, your unease, knowing there's history between you two you thought to have burned away in the back of your mind.

Yet it had all come back just like his reemergence back into your life𑁋into something more sinister.

"He talks to me sometimes, even though he's perished in the flames," Jun begins, grabbing the paper right next to you. "You remember his drawings, right? Back in that big, bright room... where beneath all those smiles of the other patients was just... hopelessness."

Then he flips the paper over, and you find yourself peering at a drawing of flames, and the uncanny similarity to Hui's artwork all those years ago cannot be ignored. You see the same vivid depiction of flames, the swirling reds and oranges dancing on the page, and the black lines of its remains. But more than that, it's the emotions that these drawings evoke, the overwhelming sense of dread, and the traumatic memories that it unsheathes. He's the personification of the fire that scarred you all those years ago.

You feel a lump form in your throat. "Hui..."

"I-I am not Hui!" he wails out unexpectedly, voice shaking with anger. His hand grips the crayon so tightly that it snaps in his grasp, the colour streaking across the paper. "Hui is dead, remember? Burned by the flames?"

"If you're not Hui, then who are you?" You ask almost pleadingly.

His fingers toy with the broken crayon as he leans in closer, his disfigured face mere inches from yours. His gaze pierces through you like a knife, and in the dimly lit room, the shadows play tricks on his scarred face, making his disfigurement seem even more malformed.

"The phoenix, don't you remember, doctor?" He chuckles lowly. "It's a creature reborn from the ashes of its own destruction, risen from the flames just like me. Rebirth and fire, doctor! You haven't been paying attention, have you?"

You sense the panic seeping inside you, causing your heart to race. His words send shivers down your spine, and you realise that he's explaining with a belief that goes beyond mere delusion, beyond repair. The scars on his face are only a fraction of the damage done. He claims to have risen from the ashes, taking on a new identity, giving him this motive of... cleaning the world with fire.

Cleaning the world...

...with fire.

Ashes of its own destruction....

"You..." You slowly rise up from the bed, the room suddenly feeling too confining. The door seemed like it was miles away, and you find your breathing shaky and unsteady. "You were... you caused those fires, didn't you?"

His eyes fixate and narrow down on you as you stand up from the bed, and a sly smile spreads across his scarred face. His gaze is intense, and you feel like you're trapped. You recall the sessions you had with him years ago that you thought were leading him toward healing. But now, you face a man who has fully embraced a twisted ideology.

"I didn't cause those fires," he responds with eerie calmness. "I simply set things in motion."

"You𑁋You killed innocent people, you were the one... from ten years ago... You𑁋"

"They were all lost, meaningless, and I brought meaning to their lives. What's so hard to understand?" he deadpans.

"You killed your family," You state. "How can... how can you justify that?"

"Hui killed his family, I didn't," he claims, crumpling up the piece of paper in his hands. "Hui started all of this, I'm merely just a follower. He was misunderstood his entire life, and you promised him healing, which you didn't fulfill."

The room feels like it's boiling you alive, and you're stuck in an endless maze of his twisted delusions. There's a sense of helplessness as you try to reach through to the man behind the scars, the one who once sought your help, but you fear that he's too far gone.

"Jun, this isn't the answer. The… the phoenix is not real,” You plead, your voice trembling. "Hui was troubled, yes, but violence is not the path to understanding or redemption. It only leads to more pain and destruction."

His expression only hardens as he throws the crumpled up piece of paper on the floor, gloved hands forming fists at his side.

"You think you can help people by sitting in your comfy chair, listening to their problems, and scribbling notes on a fucking notepad." He scoffs annoyedly, leaning back in his chair. "You're just like all the others, doctor, so dumb and worthless. You never understood... You say that you do, but you don't."

And just as you were about to speak, you watch him pull something out of the pocket of his patient gown. You squint your eyes, and a gasp shudders out of you when you notice what's in his hands.

A lighter.

"You people are just so gullible, all while you're thinking you're helping," he mutters, flicking the lighter on. The tiny flame dances at the tip, casting bizarre shadows across his scarred face. "When in reality, you're laughing behind our backs with your stupid cigarettes and your fancy degrees. You wouldn't believe the things you can find in a place like this. It's amazing what people leave lying around."

There's an arrow that penetrates through your heart, an arrow of betrayal, helplessness. How can he think of you this way when you dedicated your entire time to helping him heal all those years ago? How can he, of all people, not see that your intentions were always to provide support and understanding?

You can feel the room heating up, not just from the small flame but from the growing tension. Jun's eyes are locked onto the flickering fire of the lighter, and his words are plagued with bitter resentment. You attempt to scurry to the door, but he blocks your way, nearly shoving the flame of the lighter in your face.

"Don't you see how beautiful this is, doctor?" he utters in a trance-like state, as if the flame was hypnotising him. The orange and yellow hues reflect onto his soulless eyes. He moves the lighter dangerously close to your face, and you can feel the searing heat radiating from the tiny inferno at the tip of your nose.

Your heart pounds like a beating drum, beads of sweat form on your forehead, and your breathing quickens as panic threatens to engulf you. But his gaze only remains possessed on the fire, as if he's being consumed by the very flames he holds in his hands.

"It's so beautiful how something so small can hold so much power," he murmurs, voice barely more than a whisper.

"This... This isn't the way to find meaning or healing," You respond, slowly backing away from him, trying to create some distance between the flame and yourself. "Fire and destruction only lead to more suffering, more pain. It's not the answer, Jun."

For a split second, something flickers in Jun's eyes, as if a fragment of his former self tries to break free from the shackles of his obsession. But it's a fleeting moment, quickly devoured by his fixation on the fire.

"There are... There are people who want to help you. Don't you remember all of our sessions together? All the... all the breakthroughs we had? You were making progress, Jun. You were on your way to healing." You bring your hand up as if in defense, watching him closely as he steps the tiniest inch closer to you. "I... I want to help you, I always have. I..."

He stares at you, and for a moment, it seems like your words might be getting through to him.

"Let me help you, Hui."

But just when you think your words may have struck a chord, his face contorts into a menacing grin and you can see the flame reflect onto his eyes. The last fragile thread of sanity that seemed to linger has snapped.

"You failed Hui that night, just like you failed me." He chuckles darkly. "You couldn't save us. Do you really think you can save everyone, doctor? Do you really think all the patients you've helped all these years are any better off now?"

Now, you found yourself speechless, a tight grip around your throat from his words.

He laughs coldly, waving the flame in front of your face once more. "You're so blind, doctor. You want to heal and save everyone, but you can't save me, and you can't save yourself. I can see it in your eyes."

He’s getting in your head, you know he is. He's trying to loosen your grip on whatever reality is𑁋attempting to unravel in your mind that you were, in some way, responsible for the events that had occurred over the years, forcing you to succumb to the guilt placed on your shoulders. You've never dealt with someone so deeply rooted to their own twisted reality. You can't reason with him.

It's impossible.

But you refuse to be the victim of your own past just like you had made yourself to be.

"Junhui," You call out urgently, and the use of his real name brings a harsh, foreign taste to your tongue. You notice the way he flinches slightly to it. "That person still exists inside you𑁋I-I know it does. Please, let that part of you come back. I'm here to listen, to understand, and to help. No matter what you believe."

The flame continues to sway at the end of the lighter, yet his face remains deformed into that unsettling grin, but your words seem to have given him a momentary pause.

"You think you can bring him back?" he hisses, bringing the flame away from your face, stretching his arm out toward the side. "He's dead, doctor. It's too late."

And with that, he tosses the lighter in the direction of the bed, and a cascade of flames quickly engulf the sheets, the crayons, the drawing, everything. Horror sets in as you watch the fire rapidly spreading, consuming the room, and overhead the fire alarm screams into action.

"Isn't it beautiful, doctor?" he guffaws as the flames devour the room, eyes wide with awe. "It's so perfect... So beautiful..."

Nothing but Jun's laughter fills the air as he watches the flames lick up the once-white walls with a maniacal fascination. The flames flicker and crackle loudly, casting shifting shadows on the walls of the room. You dart towards the door, but the intense heat and smoke make it nearly impossible to breathe or see, and you cover your mouth and nose with your hand. Coughing and vision disoriented, you stumble and hit the floor with a thud, weakly pounding your fists against the door.

"Someone help!" You shout desperately, the words barely escaping your mouth. "Someone help! I-I'm in here! Anyone, please!"

The room is suffocating you whole. You can hardly even see where Jun is amidst all the smoke, yet his laughter still rings in your ears, fogging away all your thoughts. You keep pounding on the door, voice hoarse from shouting, skin tingling with heat, but there's no response from the other side.

So this is how you're going to die, You think to yourself, leaning back against the wall like you were accepting your fate, and the thought makes you chuckle at the irony.

Time seems to stretch into eternity. But just when it feels like all hope is lost, the door bursts open, and a strong hand reaches in, grabbing your arm and pulling you out of the room and into the chaotic corridor. In the corridor, the fresh air is quick to fill up your lungs. You gasp for breath, your heart racing, while the fire alarm continues to blare.

It's Seokmin who pulled you from the room, and you can hardly make out his face from your stinging, watery eyes. He wraps a protective arm around you as you both stumble away from the dangerous room, mixing with the rushing crowd of staff and patients all being guided outside to their safety.

"Y/N, are you okay?! Stay with me!" Seokmin continues to pull you through the corridor, shielding you from anything that you might run into.

You only manage a weak nod, still coughing from all the smoke. Your mind is racing, and you can hardly tell where you were going, but you trust Seokmin's guidance as he leads you further away from the scene of the fire. The sounds of sirens and shouting surround you, and the sight of the smoke floating out from the room you just escaped haunts your thoughts.

When the brightness of the outside hits your eyes, you catch your breath and fall out of Seokmin's grasp and down to the ground. Firefighters and police officers quickly brush past you and into the building as Seokmin pulls you up once more to lead you in the direction of the paramedics and ambulances.

"Here, sit down." Seokmin places you on the stair of the ambulance and helps you out of your white coat before wrapping a blanket around you. "Can we get some help over here?"

A paramedic approaches, checking you over and providing oxygen to help clear your lungs of all the smoke you inhaled. Your heart is still pounding in your chest as you sit there, trying to process what just happened.

Seokmin places himself right next to you, scanning over your features closely. You look over at him, and he gives you a reassuring smile, pushing away some disheveled strands of hair so he could properly see your face.

"You're going to be okay," he assures you, rubbing some comforting circles on your back. "Just take deep breaths and try to relax. They'll take you to the hospital to make sure you're alright."

You give him a nod, feeling a bit more security from him than the blanket draped over your shoulders right now. The two of you sit there for a few minutes, calmly watching the chaos begin to subside. It didn't look like the fire damaged much in terms of the outside of the building.

"I'm going to see if I could help around," Seokmin says, standing up. "Just stay here, okay? I'll be back before they take you to the hospital."

Just as he begins to walk away, you hesitate for a second, before calling out his name, "Hey, Seokmin?"

He turns back to you, a look of concern in his eyes. "Yes? Do you need something?"

You reach out your hand toward Seokmin, silently gesturing for him to come closer. He approaches, and without a word, you pull him into a tight hug. You feel him freeze in your grasp, before his arms fully encircle you in return, tightening the hug, and for a moment, the world around fades away as you hold onto each other. You can feel his heart beat a bit faster than normal against your chest, but you don't acknowledge it, and neither does he.

Eventually, you reluctantly pull away from the hug, but you don't let go of Seokmin's hand just yet.

"Thank you," You whisper. "for everything."

His gaze softens as he looks at you, before glancing away shyly. It makes you chuckle.

"No need to," he tells you. "I'm... I'm just happy you're safe."

The two of you stay like that for a moment, with you closing your eyes to steady your breathing while Seokmin continues to hold your hand, and you can feel the tension in your body slowly easing.

Seokmin's smile is warm, and he squeezes your hand gently. "I'll be back soon, okay? Just hang in there."

With that, he leaves your side to assist the emergency responders, leaving you seated on the ambulance's stairs, wrapped in a blanket. Your brows furrow together, trying to make sense of the situation and all the events that just transpired. The fear, the confusion, the mania that gripped the lost man back in that room𑁋it all swirls within your mind. The lingering scent of smoke fills your nose, and you swear and you can still feel the heat on your skin even though the air was cool outside.

As you sit there, lost in thought, suddenly feeling disconnected from the world around you, you find yourself questioning the nature of your profession and everything you ever believed about it. Could you have done something differently? Were there signs you missed that might have prevented this particular descent in delusion? Was he right, and you were blind this entire time? Not just for him, but for everyone you've helped?

Were you really this dumb and worthless?

Or perhaps was it impossible to save him this entire time...

...and he was too far gone?

That hefty burden of guilt, both for your inability to help him in the past and in the present, weighs heavily on your shoulders. What's for sure is that this will forever be an image tainted in your mind, scarred just like the man who brought destruction and chaos to your life today, and that particular day ten years ago.

You don't know how long you sat there until Seokmin returns, yet when he comes up to you, his face appears disturbed and... paranoid?

"They've got the fire under control. It didn't spread much farther than the room," he informs you, catching his breath. "It seems like nobody else was hurt."

"That's good to hear." Your eyes roam over his features, taking in the tense expression to his face. "Is... is everything okay? How about..."

He sits down beside you, expression still apprehensive. You can see the flicker of concern in his eyes, and the remnants of the chaos from moments ago are still evident in the way he holds himself. His gaze meets yours, and you notice a small shift in his demeanour, as if there's something he's struggling to express.

Seokmin darts his attention around, as if making sure no one was listening in, before taking a deep breath and leaning in.

"They... They said they didn't find his body in the room," he mutters, and it's so quiet you hardly make out what he says. "It's... It's like he escaped."

Your heart drops. A sinking feeling settles in your chest. Dread washes over you at his words.

"W-What?"

another another note: sorry if u expected some sort of romance w jun (which would kinda be weird for the story tbh), but feel free to imagine whatever u want w our dear seokmin. cgrats on making it to the end of the longest oneshot i’ve made so far on this blog 😍🫶

taglist (open) ʚɞ @enhazen @haowrld @ylliris-hanniehae @icyminghao @slytherinshua @jeonride @lockburn-castle @vrnism @weird-bookworm @mhlsymlysn @ryuwonieebae @yeonjuns-redhair @wonwooz1 @rubywonu @etherealyoungk

[satansdarlin]

can i request headcanons for the monster trio plus ace with a Fem!reader on her period?

Sure! Some of these are based off of personal experience of what my boyfriend does for me

Period headcanons (monster trio, plus ace)

Warnings: talk of blood (obv), slightly suggestive in ace's part.

Masterlist

Luffy

Man does not get it at first. Straight up thought you were dying.

But after some explanation from Robin, you, and Nami beating him, he finally gets it.

Still doesn't understand it in full but gets the most part

This man is now glued to you hip, even going as far as to deny playing games with usopp and chopper.

He kinda treats it like you are recovering from a injury

So obviously you need help with everything in his mind

Taking a bath? Now luffy has to sit in the bathroom and make sure you don't hurt yourself

Hungry? Omg so is he!

You wanna lay in bed all day? He's gonna cuddle you for most of it

Once he discovered the chocolate thing he made sure you had what kind you wanted.

In short luffy is the kind of boyfriend to constantly be beside you during your period if he can help it.

"Y/N can bleed for days and still be able to work! She's so cool right?!"

Sanji

Ngl man has been prepared for this day

He knows your cycle better than you do man

Like he is prepared with extra blankets

Red meats to help you recover the iron you loose

Mentally prepared for any mood swings you might have

And has stocked up on a stash of snacks just for you during this time

While he is the most attentive and loving during this he is also the absolute worst in the best way possible

He's just trying to be helpful and you know that

But he is also making you eat liver and kidneys because you need the protein and iron

Also the type to just straight up scream at anyone who bothers you during this

You are his baby. Gotta keep you safe and happy especially when you are aching

"Come on, sugar. Eat the kidneys it's good for you- LUFFY DONT YOU DARE EAT THAT"

"But she doesn't want it"

"Shut up stupid. Come on now honey eat the food I even have some chocolate chip cookies waiting after you finish this"

Zoro

Unbothered king

Straight up just doesn't care about bloody sheets or mood swings

He kinda thought you had a wound at first that you had hidden from him and freaked the fuck out

But after some explanation and him examining you just to be sure, he understood.

Makes you drink water the whole time

Does not care if you complain about being bloated. you are drinking those eight glasses a day

Naps with you during your sleepytimes

Will hold his hand on your stomach to apply pressure when you ask

But will also make jokes about you being his ketchup packet

Will go shopping for your tampons, pads, period cups. Doesn't know what any of them are so he asks Nami and robin for help

Comes back with something from every brand he could find and is now deeper in debt to Nami

Also straight up growled at someone when he could see they were annoying you???

He is now your social shield. Will tell someone where they can shove it if they don't fuck off and let you rest.

"607...608...609....610- oh. Nap time already? Alright alright I'm coming woman- did you just call me your cuddle bear? No I'm not blushing shut up"

Ace

Ahem. Ace? More like living heating pad.

More than happy to hold you the whole time

Nice and cozy against those warm man titties 🤌

Anyway. He is absolutely one of the best about things

Completely indifferent if you snap at him. Understands that you are just easily frustrated and also sympathizes with you cause he can't imagine feeling like he wasn't in control of his own emotions

Nap time? Great! He sleeps more than you.. actually he might have a iron deficiency now that I think about it

Warm hands on belly at all times

Will knead at your belly to help soothe out any cramps

None of these men care about blood. It's just the pirate way.

Has his red wings. You know what I mean ;)

"Here, lemme warm you up. Sh sh don't cry, you aren't bothering me at all baby"

[lucakaneshiroswife]

!- RANDOM SHU YAMINO HC’S -!

Warnings: suggestive content

Genre: NSFW

Word count: 610 words 3,228 characters

Published: 4th September . 23

! Minors and Blank blogs DNI !

"How can you be this pretty...?"

Regardless the way that our darling sorcerer presents himself to be, he actually has his needs, and they are a little intense. And so, like any other person, he always makes sure to appropriately care for those needs both when you are present and when you are not.

While Shu may not be straightforward with what he wants all the time, he still does have his moments where he just cracks. Although usually he finds it easier to just simply take care of his own ‘problem’ alone, which does often lead to you happening to stumble by when he is in the process of relieving himself.

When that happens, prepare yourself because you will end up on your knees between his legs as he sits in his gaming chair, fingers tangled in your hair urging you to keep sucking him like the good girl you are <3

Shu has a very obvious fixation on your face, the way you look just drives him insane especially during these moments. You always look so pretty for him and he frankly has no idea how you manage it with your hair sticking all over your face as you sweat, your eyes glossy and lips parted from just how much he pushes your limits. He has to admit that this obsession of his is one of the reasons he would suddenly thrust up into you, watching closely for your reaction with his usual smirk looking even more attractive as he does so.

Positions that allow him a full view of your face are everything for him. If there is anything he loves more than you then it will probably have to be the way you suck him, and trust me, he isn't shy to admit that. The way your warm mouth feels around him just makes him crazy, don't even get me started on the way you look while doing it, he is addicted to it.

Shu finds so much joy when he gets to incorporate toys into your intimate moments. After all, you do need to feel good while you make him feel good, it's only fair that way. Perhaps that's the only time he'd be 'fair' with you, and even then he makes sure to overstimulate you to see how much you can handle from a mere toy, surely you won't disappoint him right?

Despite his kind-hearted nature, Shu can and will be dominant. He loves being in charge and exploring different kinks that you both have. He is more than open to experimenting, he doesn't shy away from a new experience if it's with you~

Remember the part where he is not only an amazing sorcerer but also an amazing gamer? Yeah well if you didn't then it shows with the way he uses those hands of his. His touch is electrifying, setting your body on fire, he knows just how to tease and please. Making you beg for mercy but pant for more.

While Shu may not be the most vocal person in the bedroom, when things get heated and he approaches that sweet climax he does end up breathing up your ear, whispering nothing but absolute filth varying from how criminally tight you are around him to how good you are being for him.

Shu knows the importance of aftercare, especially after putting poor little you through so much. Don't worry he will take care of you, clean you up, bring you a cup of water or even strawberry milk before you find him wrapping his arms around you, whispering words of affection and love into your ear while kissing over the marks he left on your body <3

A/N: Yes I know I haven't posted in two months but I am back and I hope to finish doing this for ALL of Luxiem while the creativity is still there. I am just as thirsty and starved as you are. NOT PROOFREAD

ART CREDITS: I couldn't find the @ at all, lmk if you know them.

[matan4il]

Buddie 610 meta

Holy shit, this ep.

Okay, what shall we start with? Maybe with what 911 itself starts, lots of foreshadowing. At the beach call, we have Eddie looking at Buck and replying to him (about the lightning), “I really hope it doesn’t strike twice, though.” Which, of course we know it will. But the foreshadowing continues, as Buck talks to Omar about unexpected things in life coming out of nowhere. That suggests we need to pay extra attention to other elements in this ep that might act as foreshadowing for later events along 6b. ~~

That kind of connects to me with Buck being closely tied to Ely, the pregnant lady (he saves the day there twice, first by realizing the oil is dripping and if they use the saw, it might prove fatal, then by helping Bobby with the baby). First off, it made me chuckle when we learned that, despite being driven to the hospital by a man, he’s actually not her partner. 911 made sure we knew Ely has a wife, and that she has another kid with her. Is it a coincidence when Buck, who practically has a husband and a kid with him already, is the main firefighter taking care of her? Maybe, but it still amused me. What really made me take note is when he told her not to push, trying to stall her childbirth, and she replied that it doesn’t depend on her. That made me wonder if perhaps this is also in a way foreshadowing what we might end up seeing with the sperm donation storyline. I’m not sure, I can’t be, but I was not surprised to see that storyline brought up later in the ep. ~~

In general, this ep’s title, “In a Flash,” might seem to refer to the lightning storm the team experiences, but the real tempest is the havoc our families can wreak on us, tied to the unexpected nature change can sometimes take on. Chim’s dad suddenly shows up, raining on his parade. Albert suddenly thinks Chim should give their dad a chance to be Jee Yun’s grandpa, but decides against giving his brother a warning. The Buckley parents are suddenly making an effort, yet leaving everyone suspicious and unnerved. Albert suddenly leaks Buck’s sperm donation to everyone and unleashes hell between the in-laws. Denny’s changes, probably influenced by getting in touch with his dad, come as a surprise to Hen. And of course, at the climax of the ep, Bobby as the unofficial adoptive father of Buck might lose his son in a flash. The whole ep is filled with these parallels of abrupt familial disquiet, especially in relation to dads, on all 118 fronts. And as Buck deals with maybe the biggest of these questions, because he doesn’t even yet know what he wants for himself and how does the life he helped create (but only as a donor) fit into that, it’s no wonder his life ends up hanging literally in the balance. ~~

One of the most painful things in this ep for me was seeing how much Buck’s parents are willing to accept him as a donor, because not for a second do they think he can be a father. That would be the natural conclusion from him looking at a sonogram on his phone, but his parents find it easier to believe their daughter is pregnant again than to think Buck would be a dad (ironic, because he already is one. Just not to the baby in the sonogram). It reminded me of how Eddie’s parents also didn’t believe in his ability to be a dad, and actively petitioned to have Chris taken from him to be raised by them in 315. It amazes me every time anew just how much Buddie are compatible, because their stories parallel so much that they can understand each other in ways most other people can’t. ~~

And it gets to me that this whole episode also insists on reminding us how good Buck is with kids, first with the ones on the beach, calming them down and answering their questions to help them make sense of the whole ordeal. Then with Ely’s baby, a callback to how we saw him with the pipe baby in 101. It connects to him looking at the baby sonogram, all excited, once again acting so much like an expectant dad would (parallel to him and the firefighter onesie in 609), when we know he’s not actually going to be that baby’s father. It very much does feel like 911 is signaling to us Buck has some realizations coming his way in this context. ~~

Speaking of the kids on the beach, Buck telling the boy he wants to fix everything, then adding that Buck gets it, had me screaming into my fists, because hey, remember who said that to Buck? That’s right, his Eddie, back in 504. A reminder of how much Eddie sees Buck, accepts him and allows him to be himself, enabling Buck in turn to reflect that back to that kid. Of course, in the context of the sperm donation, Buck’s tendency made him want to help “fix” things for Connor and Kameron, and we might learn in 6b that Buck comes to realize he sometimes lets this tendency take him to places that aren’t actually good for him, without fully considering the consequences, and then hopefully, he’ll get to find a way to balance this, to be himself, but not derailed from his life goals by this part of himself. ~~

At the same time that the ep shows us how good Buck is with kids, it also serves to remind us of the one kid that we’ve seen him co-parent all along, the one who has always demonstrated what a good, loving dad Buck is, Christopher. Yes, when we see Buck working on his cooking with Bobby, it’s a part of the many parallels revolving around dads in this ep, so Buck and Bobby’s r/s is the immediate focus, but at the same time, we know who Buck is learning this FOR. Lazania kitchen scene from 601, anyone? Oh, but the best part? It’s when Buck tells Bobby, “Something’s missing.” He can’t quite put the finger on what, but he knows something in his domesticity isn’t fully there. I wonder what, Buck... And this is again in an ep full of foreshadowing! ~~

It may seem like a minor thing, but remember how in my past meta, I was more or less losing it over the many times Buck and Eddie did rope rescues together as their own team within the 118 team, even having their assigned roles where Eddie connects Buck to the line and then becomes an anchor himself to keep Buck safe, to the point where I wrote a smut fic involving this very meaningful act? Yeah, so imagine me seeing that the most intense Buddie call we’ve had since the end of 413 starts with them doing this subtextually intimate thing, Eddie hooking Buck up to the rope, becoming his literal life line, and even teasingly calling him “cowboy” while at it. No, I was not breathing for a full minute at least. ~~

But since I brought up the shooting in 413, can we talk about the insanity of the parallels? Take the meaningful staring once disaster strikes. Back in s4, it was mutual, right before Eddie collapsed. In 610, Buck is unconscious, so you wouldn’t think they could stare at each other at this moment, right? Plus, back in 413, it was just the two of them present at the scene out of the 118, the other members of the team weren’t there. The lightning strike seems a lot less intimate in comparison... But in this ep, the camera plays a role in recreating that same dynamic, singling out the connection between Buddie. Because when Buck is hit by lightning, we get shots of every 118 member looking up and being terrified of what just happened to their friend.

The only exception in terms of this shot? Eddie. He’s the only one that isn’t being filmed from the side as he looks up, he’s filmed from above as he looks straight into the camera. Essentially, the shot recreates Buck’s POV for Eddie, and for him alone. It shows us what Buck would see and how he would stare down, back at Eddie, if he only could. The fact that the camera has to do this instead of Buck himself further emphasizes the horror of Buck being unconscious, but the choice to do this only with Eddie highlights their connection and makes it clear that Buddie’s bond IS different to what the other team members have with Buck, no matter how close the others are to him or how much they love him. What’s insane is that DESPITE having all of the 118 there, there is still a bubble within this whole situation that is Buddie and Buddie’s alone, even as Buck himself is unconscious. It’s no wonder Eddie jumps up that electrocuted ladder without even thinking about it, it’s no wonder no one even tries to stop him or warn him of the danger in that. That is a man on a mission to save the other half of him, and the show tells us that in more than one way.

That’s gonna continue through Eddie’s attempts (and eventual success) in getting Buck away from immediate danger, as well as when the team tries but then fails to revive Buck, because Eddie will be the one to push past Bobby to see Buck, and Eddie will be the one Bobby has to keep in line by assigning him driving duty, maybe the most important thing anyone can do for Buck once all the medical assistance they can give him in the field is of no further use. ~~

One more thing regarding the comparison with the shooting arc in s4, as well as talking about camera shots, is that we get to see the difference between a platonic friend resuscitating his teammate and a man desperately trying to keep the love of his life alive. If you look at Chim doing compressions on Buck, he’s giving it his all, because he DOES love Buck, Chim’s doing his best for his friend and brother in law. But the shot is not an intimate one, we don’t get close ups, we don’t get to focus on the eyes and see the frantic look of a man who knows he CAN’T fail, we don’t see the intimate touch of a hand laying a gauze on an exposed chest and trying to keep this treasured body together, we do get “come on, Buck,” but we don’t get personal speech, begging the other man to hold on and just “stay with me.” While back in 414, in the ambulance, we had ALL of those as Buck, almost on the verge of losing his sanity, fought for Eddie’s life. ~~

Lastly, I’ve made in the past a gifset of times when we’ve seen Buck screaming Eddie’s name in horror at the face of danger (including in 413), and I love that we can finally add to that Eddie doing the same thing for Buck. But I think it’s particularly meaningful that it happened not as a matter of when Buck would be in danger, but rather it was a question of just how significant Buck had to become to Eddie for this former, highly decorated soldier to go from the stoic man he was in 218 to what we see in 610 (as seen in my latest weekly gifset). Because Eddie WAS incredibly worried back in the s2 finale. He was gritting his teeth, you can see the tension on his face, and the second it was safe, he sprang to Buck’s side. Eddie also held on to him while everyone else was lifting the truck (even though Chim, as a medic, would have been a more natural choice to hold on to Buck, while Eddie the firefighter helps lift engine 118). And Eddie wouldn’t even let go of Buck’s hand on the way to the truck. HE WAS DISTRAUGHT. But the man who kept his facade up in the hospital after Shannon, his wife and mother of his son, died just one ep earlier, did the same thing with Buck. What I find so telling is that he can no longer do that by 610. Buck has become such an integral part of his life, of his family, of who Eddie is as a person and how he deals with life, way more than even Shannon managed to be. And that’s why Eddie loses it, confirming what we’ve known for a while: Buddie are life partners. ~~

I now have direct links to my weekly meta posts, my Buddie gifs and more of my content in my pinned post. Loads of love to @whosoldherout​​ for making unbelievable gifs for my very unique requests. You’re a star! Tag list will follow in the reblog. Thank you in advance for any reblog and like! I’m operating on 1.5 hours of sleep to get this posted ASAP, so I really appreciate any and all encouragement to keep doing this. xoxox

[make-me-imagine]

Jealousy Headcanons {K.GW & H.WJ}

Jealousy headcanons for Kim Geon-Woo and Hong Woo-Jin

Pairings: Kim Geon-Woo x Gn!Reader & Hong Woo-Jin x Gn!Reader

Requested By: Anonymous

Warnings: Nothing of note

Words: 610

Kim Geon-Woo

If Geon-Woo ever gets jealous its out of insecurity.

Even though he is an amazing boyfriend, he is always afraid he is not good enough for you.

In his eyes you deserve the world and more and sometimes he fears someone else can give it to you better than he can.

He does't fully realize that you think these things too.

If someone else is flirting with you, you can feel Geon-Woo's eyes on you at all times.

He is watching out of a mix of insecurity, and protectiveness.

Geon-Woo always feels a rush of relief and love when you excuse yourself from the conversation, set your eyes on him and they light up as you smile and make your way over to him.

This simple unconscious action at the sight of him reassures him more than you know.

When you can turn away from someone who is interested in you, and yet be more excited to see him, he knows you still only want him.

He get's pouty if someone has your attention for too long, or if someone asked for your number/we chat/etc.

You find it cute and tease him back about being jealous.

But you find ways in between to make sure he knows no one could ever replace him.

No one could ever mean as much to you as he does.

He does the same for you, though you don't have to worry because he can't even tell when someone is flirting with him in the first place.

And even if he does notice it, he does not acknowledge it and makes sure to bring you up in any situation.

Okay, this has nothing to do with jealousy, but I can't help but picture Geon-Woo being every boyfriend in those golden retriever bf tiktoks where he loses sight of you and looks worried, and then see's you again and his eyes light up as he grins. AHH

Hong Woo-Jin

Woojin is confident you would never flirt, cheat or even consider another man when you are together

His problem is with the ones that are flirting with you.

He finds a way to slide into the conversation, or just places his arm across your shoulder or waist.

The look he gives whoever is flirting with you, is almost always enough to make them back off.

You find this amusing and attractive.

The kind of situation Woojin actually get's jealous in is when you are spending time with other's more than him.

Going out with your friends or family? Why is he not invited??

Why did it take you so long to come back? He missed you?

Like a dog with separation issues lmao.

So, he only really get's jealous when others get to spend more time with you than he does.

Or if you experience something fun or exciting without him, he get's jealous in the sense that he wants to be the one to see you happy or excited in those moments.

If someone approaches you asking you for your contact info he does get annoyed, but he makes it cute.

He will act annoyed and pouty, until you playfully ask for forgiveness.

Or you must pay the price (i.e. hugs and/or kisses) until he feels better about it.

However, if someone flirts with him he teases you about it too.

"Did you see that?" "Are you jealous? Huh??"

He does not want you to be jealous, but he thinks it's cute when you are. And he knows it means you just love him.

But on a more serious side, he will never let you think he would leave you for anyone or anything.

xx

General Taglist: @criminaly-supernatural, @imaginesfire, @rexit-mo, @onuen, @witchygagirl, @alexxavicry,

-Taglist Form-

[kentosweetheart]

Warning: fluffy and angst (not proofread)

Words: 610

That night, as the stars took shelter and hid in the cloudy sky, the calm rain beat almost silently against the window glass. It was a summer evening, so the rain that was present relieved a little of the hot night. Even if not cold, it seemed to bring some relief to the incessant heat that lasted all day. The soft tapping against the window added even more to the calm and cozy atmosphere of the room. All the lights in the house were turned off, except for the lamp by the bed.

He had worked all day and had arrived home exhausted. The only thing that eased his tension was knowing that she would be waiting for him. She held the book carefully and read its passages gently, almost like a whisper. He lay with his head on her lap, while his hand rested gently on her belly, caressing it from time to time. She read each verse as if she were telling her most intimate secret, just for him. While she held the book in one hand, the other lovingly stroked his hair, and he sighed deeply with each touch, a touch that made him feel complete, vast, a touch that made him feel as if all the bad things never existed and never affected him, making it seem as if everything was nothing more than a dream.

The hand that caressed her belly was warm and comforting, mainly because it was his, because it showed that he was there and everything was fine.

Just like the hand that caressed her belly, from time to time, he spoke words that came out almost in a sigh, words destined for that new life.

“... The wheat fields don't remind me of anything. And that's sad! But you have hair the color of gold. So it will be wonderful when you have captivated me. The wheat, which is golden, will remind me of you. And I will love the sound of the wind in the wheat.” - The soft voice emphasized each word as her fingers delicately ran through his blond locks, and he smiled delicately, hugging her waist, snuggling even closer as if he wanted to merge with her, making them one. The rain continued outside, now a little stronger, but for them, inside, the incessant noise was not bothersome, because he only heard the sound of her voice, while she could hear each breath, each smile. In that space, in that room, the world seemed to have disappeared, time flowed their way, nothing from that outside world could disturb the peace they shared. It was at that moment that time froze for her, in the moment where only they mattered, where only their peace reigned. But that moment, that experience was nothing more than an old memory, kept for a long time in the back of her mind, but which was occasionally revived.

Now she ran her hand through the light hair. The book was no longer there because the story told had already taken root in her memory. The small hand wrapped around one of your fingers as she spoke the same verses, with the same soft voice, but now passing on a secret that she had already shared with someone else, but that belonged to this little life now. 

Everything was different, but in a way, it seemed the same. He was no longer there, but the little one who snuggled up to you now and slept sighing lightly, was proof that something of his, something created by you, someone who was almost the perfect combination of the two of you, would never let his existence go from your lives.

[were-wolverine]

teen wolf as b99 quotes

*lydia’s party in s2*

lydia: why is no one having a good time? i specifically requested it.

***

isaac, to lydia: derek told me not to let him get hurt tonight, so i’ll keep him away from you.

later

stiles: have you seen lydia?

isaac: lydia died eight years ago.

***

derek: oh, are you and allison no longer…

scott: smushing booties?

derek: …yes that’s exactly how i was going to phrase my sentence, scott.

***

stiles: we gotta get to hospital and we gotta get there fast.

jackson: then i should drive.

scott: why you?

jackson: i have nothing to live for and i drive like it.

stiles: …okay, let’s do it.

***

stiles: all right, give me your hair-dryer.

allison: what?

stiles: don’t you carry one in your purse?

allison: have you ever met a human woman?

stiles: …*calls lydia*

lydia: hey, stiles.

stiles: hey. do you carry a hair-dryer in your purse?

lydia: of course. i’m not an animal.

***

stiles: you think you can just bully people, but you can’t. it’s not okay.

stiles: i’m the bully around here. ask anyone.

***

erica: i’m not a stone cold bitch.

erica: i’m a natural, beautiful presence.

***

stiles: do you know how many basic bitches would kill to have the same personality as me?

***

peter: we can go to my apartment. no one knows where i live.

derek: i thought you had stiles over once.

peter: yeah, it was fun. i moved the next day.

peter: he would way too easily use that information against me.

stiles: he’s right, i would.

***

scott: stiles, i screwed up, big time.

stiles: scott, given your daily life experiences, you’re gonna have to be more specific.

***

kira: ‘writing things down’ is nerdy!? what do you do?

malia: i just forget stuff like a cool person.

***

allison: you are disturbingly good at this.

lydia: i grew up forging report cards.

lydia: if people knew how smart i was, it would have been harder to control them.

***

stiles: are you a minor? how old are you?

liam: i’m 610. i’m a highlander.

stiles: okay, you know what? i’m gonna put that in there.

stiles: and then you’re gonna be tried as an adult highlander, and they’re gonna cut your head off.

***

erica: what do you look for in a guy?

stiles: i don’t know, real stuff. shape of his ass.

erica: yeah that tracks

***

scott: i straight up drove him off, big screw up on my part.

derek:

scott: i’m trying this new thing, where i just own my mistakes. i like it, do you?

derek: i did. until you bragged about it.

***

boyd: you searched for ‘cheapest date possible’.

stiles: and i wear that search like a badge of honor.

***

scott: wow, your handshake is quite firm.

kira: i took a seminar.

scott: where?

***

stiles: a parsec is actually a measure of distance. that’s one of the many inaccuracies in the ‘Star Wars’ universe.

malia: and what’s ‘Star Wars’?

stiles: oh boy.

***

scott: okay- no big deal, five days is nothing. i’m not afraid to be alone with my own thoughts.

scott: my thoughts are awesome. die hard 6 on a cruise ship… pizza bagel restaurant…

scott: my father never loved me, i’m gonna die alone.

scott: oh boy, that escalated quick.

***

stiles: well, remember when you told me not to burn down the precinct?

sheriff stilinski: you burned down the precinct??

stiles: no, i had the fire put out almost immediately. this is a success story!

***

stiles: peter, this isn’t High School Musical.

scott: yeah, peter, this isn’t High School Musical 2.

stiles: yeah, and it isn’t High School Musical 3: Senior Year.

***

boyd: i’m fine at parties.

boyd: i just stand in the middle of the room and don’t say anything.

***

derek: i only feel one emotion, and it’s anger.

isaac: last night you drunk-texted the whole pack a bunch of heart emojis.

derek: …out of anger.

***

stiles, to jackson: no hard feelings. but i hate you.

stiles: not joking. bye.

***

lydia: give me the ring.

stiles: ha, you sound like Gollum.

lydia: that means nothing to me.

lydia: i don’t see those movies, i’m too pretty.

***

stiles, walking out after a pack meeting ends: sexy train is leaving the station.

stiles: check out this caboose! later, sluts.

***

scott: look at me. do not blow this for us.

random dog that allison hit with her car:

***

peter: i really miss these people, the whole pack. stiles, scott…

peter: …i forget all their other names.

derek: *judgemental eyebrow raise*

[mangocustard16]

Starry Cinema Night💗💓

Jeon Wonwoo x reader

| synopsis: As stars lit the sky, a Wonwoo's and Y/N's first visit to a drive-in movie theater sparks a love story under the summer night.

| pairing: bf!wonwoo x gn!reader

| genre: fluff

| warnings: none

| w.c: 610

Wonwoo and Y/N had been dating for a few months now, and they were both eager to make new memories together. Tonight, they decided to go to a drive-in movie theater, something neither of them had experienced before. It was a warm summer evening, and the anticipation of the night ahead filled the car with excitement.

As they approached the drive-in, the neon sign flickered to life, casting a colorful glow over the area. The gravel crunched beneath the tires as they found their spot, nestled between rows of cars, each facing the large outdoor screen.

Y/N couldn't contain her excitement. "I've always wanted to do this," she said, turning to Wonwoo with a wide grin.

He smiled back, his eyes holding a hint of amusement. "I can tell. You look like a kid in a candy store."

She playfully nudged him, causing both of them to laugh. "Well, I've heard drive-ins are a classic American experience. I wanted to make sure I didn't miss out on it."

Wonwoo nodded in agreement. "It's one of those things that never goes out of style."

With the car engine off and the windows down, they settled into their seats, ready for the show to begin. The screen flickered to life, and the opening credits of the movie rolled. The atmosphere was different from a regular theater; it was more intimate, like they had their own private cinema under the starry sky.

Wonwoo reached over to take Y/N's hand, their fingers entwining naturally. She leaned her head on his shoulder as the movie started. It was a romantic comedy, the kind Y/N secretly loved, and Wonwoo knew it.

As the plot unfolded on the screen, Wonwoo couldn't help but steal glances at Y/N. Her eyes were fixed on the movie, but there was a soft smile on her lips, and her face occasionally lit up with laughter at the witty dialogues and humorous situations. Wonwoo found himself getting lost in the way her hair danced in the breeze, the softness of her laughter, and the warmth of her hand in his.

During one particularly heartwarming scene, Y/N turned to Wonwoo, her eyes shimmering with emotion. "This is so lovely, Wonwoo," she whispered.

He squeezed her hand gently. "Just like you."

She blushed at his words, and he couldn't resist leaning in to kiss her cheek. The moment was sweet and tender, the kind that made their hearts race just a little bit faster.

As the movie progressed, the night air grew cooler, and Wonwoo reached into the backseat to grab a blanket he had brought along. He draped it over Y/N's shoulders, tucking it snugly around her. She smiled up at him, grateful for his thoughtfulness.

The movie neared its climax, and so did the evening. The tension in the plot mirrored the feelings bubbling between Wonwoo and Y/N. They shared stolen glances, their fingers intertwined tightly, neither wanting to break the spell of the moment.

Finally, as the credits rolled and the screen went dark, Y/N turned to Wonwoo with a contented sigh. "That was amazing," she said.

Wonwoo nodded, his gaze fixed on her. "It was."

Their faces drew closer, and they shared a sweet, lingering kiss. It was the kind of kiss that spoke of shared moments and unspoken promises. The kind of kiss that made them both feel like they were on the brink of something beautiful.

As they leaned back into their seats, Wonwoo said, "This was a perfect night."

Y/N nestled her head on his shoulder again, her fingers tracing small patterns on the back of his hand. "It really was. Thanks for bringing me here, Wonwoo."

He kissed the top of her head. "Anytime, Y/N."

The drive-in movie had been a simple yet magical experience, one that had deepened the connection between them. Under the starry sky, with the soft hum of the car engine and the memory of the movie still fresh in their minds, they knew they had created a beautiful memory together. And as they sat there, hand in hand, they couldn't wait to create many more in the future.

i want someone to do this with me pls

date inspo for future

[seat-safety-switch]

We all have a memory of the perfect junkyard run. Maybe for you, it was that afternoon you went with your dad’s parole officer to get a new intake pipe for the Cavalier. For me, it was a crisp winter morning, where I pulled a series of mint body panels off a Honda Civic that had just dropped on the lot, while a team of Filipino mechanics toiled around me, stripping RAV4s to the bone and extracting every Toyota 2GR they could find. The air vibrated with excitement, all of us delighted to be bringing our impossible hauls home for smoking deals.

Not every trip to the junkyard can live up to this ideal. For many years, I would get cranky when I’d turn up unannounced on a Saturday and not be able to find what I wanted. Even when I had a big list of broken-assed cars to pick up junk for, sometimes I would simply have to go home empty handed, which was an unpleasant experience for everyone within 20 meters.

Every single one of the checkout ladies had heard enough of me grumbling about neoliberalism, the collapse of the industrial state, and the inevitable decline of my proud old junk in return for a couple of cents per share dividend to absentee shareholders. Folks out in the parking lot would cuss and throw pockets full of stolen relays at me, citing that major economists were right about the inefficient allocation of scarce resources captured by a field full of shit-box automobiles. It took a friend, and a heart-to-heart, to set me right.

Old, One-Eyed Dave (who was actually zero-eyed, due to two freak angle-grinder incidents, about five years apart, but “one-eyed” sounds much better) told me that I should appreciate every visit to the junkyard as an opportunity to discover more about our past. Archeologists don’t get hyper-mad and record a little tantrum for TikTok in their GMC 610s whenever they can’t find a dinosaur bone. They keep looking, and maybe they find an old fossilized plant or something.

Ever since then, I’ve tried to find the good in the junkyard. Make do with what you have. Appreciate every moment. For instance, there are lots of like-new cars – only about twenty years old! – and I can look at them to see if there’s any nice seats inside that I can take. It’s a bit of a struggle ratchet-strapping them onto the roof of my car for the ride home, but I must admit that it is nice to have a heated seat that isn’t being caused entirely by an exhaust fire for once.

[potatoes83]

So we're back from a Great American Roadtrip, which I was pleased to see, as a concept, is still somewhat alive and well for others too, despite all odds. Got in around, hell, 10, 10:30 last night or so? Again, took tons of awesome pics, will throw a few up, but it's a chill day today. So. In the Jeep Gladiator, we did:

Monday: Metro Detroit to Albert Lea, MN. 690 miles.

Tuesday: Albert Lea to Gillette, WY, stopping at Mt. Rushmore on the way. 670 miles.

Wednesday: Gillette to West Yellowstone, MT. 460 miles.

Thursday: 17,000+ steps of hiking and exploring in Yellowstone National Park.

Friday: same.

Saturday: same.

Sunday: West Yellowstone to Dickinson, ND. 550 miles.

Monday: Dickinson to Eau Claire, WI. 620 miles.

Tuesday: Eau Claire to Metro Detroit. 610 miles.

If I had to guess, it was also at least 60 miles a day driving in the park, would that I had actually set the trip-meter upon leaving. And just wow... See, to me, the drive is part of the adventure of the road trip. I had never been in Minnesota, South Dakota, Wyoming, Montana, or North Dakota before. Seeing boundless grazing fields with herds of cattle. Miles of corn and grain for dairy cows. Snow-capped mountains, hills of rocks and dirt with incredible striations and colors. And then in the park itself... wow. Every minute was a new experience I had never had before in this amazing country that I am priviliged enough to call home.

Tomorrow is back to work. Back to reality, and whatever else is piled up on my desk and in my email after eight days away from the office, but that's not today. Today is the afterglow (pure exhaustion) of an incredible road trip and vacation. Interspersed with laundry and unpacking and all that good stuff. It was a great trip, but as always, it is good to be back home and with our creatures, who totally missed us. 🥔

[finalfrontierpublishing]

A 00q anthology this time

So i've recently been cursed by 'failureitis' and things with my latest binds keep going wrong. I suppose it's also part and parcel of trying new things.

In this case i've been plagued by overconfidence and despite knowing i should do tests with new bookcloth to see how it takes HTV, i did not (ah, hubris!)

Well guys, Chromo bookcloth is coated with something or another and HTV just slides off it like butter. it's such a lovely bronze colour- BUT WHAT AN ABSOLUTE PAIN IN THE ASS!

I've been told it adheres after intense pressing and even then it may not adhere for long - i had initially done a cover design with Siser Metallic (my nemesis), which doesn't like to be overpressed and tends to melt at the slightest provocation. I gave up after multiple presses when it started to warp and crinkle, a clear sign it was in rebellion mode but it was still NOT adhering to the case.

And so I had to change tack and decided to do some pretty Japanese paper on the cover - ooh look, glue stains, because i was at my wits end and wasn't careful with my glue management. you can tell i gave up somewhat - I could have persisted with some titling on the paper but I just wanted this bind to be over.

Statistics:

173K words || 610 pages

Body text: Liberation serif, 11 point

Accents: Baron Neue Black and Bahnschrift Condensed

I did have a good time with the french double core endbands - 3 colours guys, I love how french double core looks though i'm still working on my consistency and tension - i'm also struggling to get the perfect colour contrast combinations as well as the planning my patterns properly so i can create something fancy looking. I matched them to the endpapers for once, a trick i learnt from Manda, and I really like how they looked!

I also found a ton of missed typos in the text block on a quick perusal, which absolutely shows the quality of my typesetting checks drops whenever i have to do anthologies - I just lack the stamina to do them with attention so i really should restrict word counts because i just end up doing a shitty job.

Ultimately, in a final moment of failure, I had some fuckery going on when i cased in - I managed to crease the endpapers somehow while casing in (DOUBLE FUCK), and i think the book is also not perfectly aligned so the front cover has an odd tension on opening due to creasing, and this has never happened to me despite having some experience in casing in text weight endpapers. the bind is cursed, guys. gad, maybe someone's made a bookbinding voodoo doll of me and has stuck me like a piñata so i'll keep fucking up my binds. Jesus, do I wish this run of bad luck in binding will end soon.

As always, a quick shelfie to make myself feel better. i've had to move my dinosaur (aptly named Thesaurus by PIP!) because i am fast running out of space.

My next plan is to complete 2 more binds - both of them blind- and then move on to the author copies I owe. I've received such gratifying and positive commentary regarding receiving author copies that I'm quite revved up and ready to go. Hopefully the next couple of binds will go more smoothly and I will be back in the thick of it once again.

[gaiakoraidon]

Just a little something I did for the main five experiments of Lilo and Stitch on the top and of my three favorite experiments from the anime that Stitch received in the late 2000's: Cyber, the first experiment Jumba ever made and went rogue, Dark End, possibly the best villain experiment out there, and Experiment 610 Witch, who could possess people.

Going back to the main five, I love them all just the same, Stitch of course being the best. If I were to rank the others, I'd say Angel, Leroy, 627, and Ruben(I love the sandwich boyo alright). Even though Experiment/Project 628 was never revealed at all, I have made my own fannon 628 to be apart of my canon and to join the main five to become the main six.