#I've had the biggest grin on my face all day from shared videos

[mementomoriwithacherryontop]

You guys. Cameo is now invested in Dead Boy Detectives.

Like, I feel like our boys broke the internet in the best possible way, and I can't stop laughing.

First, after I'm sure their algorithm went haywire from the huge influx of cameo requests that just showed up on George's profile out of seemingly nowhere, Cameo's interest is piqued. They post this:

And then, a few hours later, this:

(For the record, I agree. This screenshot goes down in award winning history).

And, lastly, after scratching their heads at the fact that we are overtaking their platform, they do some digging and ask:

And I just feel like whoever is handling their social media is like, "what in the holy hell just happened," but also, " these boys are internet cotton candy and now I'm invested in their success. What is this jargon that you speak of?"

Anyway. Carry on :)

[bumblesimagines]

Green Thumb

Part 12

Request: Yes or No

I'm sorry this feels short

~

You smiled, ending the call with Bucky. Over the past year, you basically called Bucky every week. Sometimes you went a few days without talking because he was busy or because you had a mission but you two always tried to talk at least once a week. You had gotten to know him better. He told you stories about him and Steve, how it was like growing up bisexual and having to hide it, joining the army. Some things were hard for him to talk about so you didn't push him.

"Done talking to your boyfriend?" Cooper asked, entering the room. You grinned, rolling your eyes and patting the spot infront of you. Cooper took a seat on the bed, sitting criss cross.

"Is Wanda still in Scotland?" He asked.

"Yeah, she is." You smiled, watching your little brother. Cooper hummed, toying with the strings of his hoodie. You watched him curiously.

"What's on your mind?" You asked softly. Cooper bit his bottom lip, tugging on the strings a bit.

"Are you gonna leave to visit that guy too?" He asked quietly. Your gaze softened, reaching forward and gently pulling him closer. You wrapped your arms around him.

"Coop, even if I did leave frequently or moved out, I would come visit everyday. I'd call you all the time." You told him gently, giving his arm a squeeze.

"I wouldn't forget about you, Lila, and Nate." You smiled softly. You turned your head, hearing the burner phone. You frowned, picking it up and looking at the message.

Steve Rogers

We need to get everyone together. We're gonna pick you up in ten.

Cooper watched you, head tilting. You licked your lips, sighing softly and looking at him.

"I've got a mission, bud. Could you go tell mom and dad while I get dressed?" You asked him, tossing the phone on the bed and going to your closet. Cooper nodded, getting up and leaving the room. You got out the outfit Clint had gotten you, changing into it. You opened your drawer, sliding the pistol into its holder. After what had happened with everyone, Clint decided to teach you hand to hand combat and how to use weapons.

"What happened?" Clint asked as he entered the room. You looked at him, licking your lips.

"Something serious. Steve wants everyone to group up." You told him. Clint frowned, nodding.

"Stay safe, alert, and-"

"Come back in one piece." You finished for him, smiling softly. You gave him a hug, moving onto Laura before heading down the steps. You could hear the aircraft landing outside.

"You're leaving?" Lila asked with a pout. You nodded, crouching down and hugging her. You gave Cooper and Nathaniel a hug, assuring them you'd be back.

"Be good." You called, leaving the house and jogging over to the aircraft. Natasha and Steve greeted you with smiles. You noticed their new looks.

"I didn't know you could grow facial hair." You said as the back close. Natasha laughed softly, giving you a hug. Steve shook his head with an amused smile as he made the aircraft rise. Sam gave you a wide smile.

"So, where is Wanda?" He asked.

"Edinburgh with.. Vision." You told them, watching Natasha set the course.

"And why is she there with him?"

"She's not giving or getting information. They're.. A couple." You shrugged lightly. Natasha and Sam shared a surprise look.

"How's Bucky?" Steve asked, keeping his gaze forward. You flushed, unaware that Steve knew about you and Bucky being in contact.

"He's.. Uh, he's fine." You said, scratching the side of your neck and avoiding their teasing gazes.

"So, what's up? What happened?" You asked, looking over them. Natasha pulled up a video. New York being destroyed with a hovering circle in the sky that disappeared into space.

"Banner called and told us about everything. Aliens are invading Earth for some infinity stones. Vision has the Mind Stone." Steve explained.

"Aliens?" You furrowed your brows, looking at her. Natasha nodded. You groaned softly, looking forward.

"Yeah, I won't be home in time for dinner." You sighed. You and the other reached Edinburgh by night time, noticing one of the streets being partially destroyed.

"(Y/N), take care of the fire." Steve ordered. You nodded, standing up and dropping down when the aircraft opened its back. You hopped down, the wind taking you down towards the truck on fire. You moved your hand, spreading your fingers. The fire moved towards you as you absorbed it. You followed the destruction to a subway station, humming.

"They're in here, Cap." You called. Natasha landed the jet as the others hopped down. You crashed through the glass ceiling, using wind to throw one of the two aliens into the air. Sam flew in, punching the alien and sending him flying across the station. Steve and Natasha fought with the other alien before Sam kicked her towards the other one. You made fire balls, keeping them ready in case they fought back.

"We don't want to kill you, but we will." Natasha said. The alien looked at her, scoffing.

"You'll never get the chance again." She replied, placing a hand in her companion. A blue light flashed on them and they were quickly lifted up to a ship. You closed your fists, the fire balls disappearing. You quickly jogged over to Wanda and Vision, the others following.

"Are you okay?" You asked softly. Wanda nodded, wincing as you gently touched the cut above her brow. The root around your wirst reached out, touching the cut and slowly rottening while Wanda's cut healed. She gave you a thankful smile.

"I don't know if I'll be able to heal you, Vis." You told him, helping him up. Sam put one of his arms around his shoulder while you went on his other side.

"Thank you." Vision breathed out.

"Let's get you on the jet." Steve said, turning and leading everyone to the jet. When you entered, you gently helped Vision sit. Natasha closed the back door.

"I thought we had a deal. Stay close, check in, don't take any chances." Natasha turned towards Wanda, cocking a brow. Wanda swallowed.

"I'm sorry." Wanda apologized quietly. Natasha shifted her gaze onto you.

"Nobody likes to snitch on their friends but-"

"I know." You sighed, taking a seat besides Wanda and Vision. Sam piloted the jet to the Avengers tower. You were uneasy, not feeling like getting arrested while Earth got invaded.

"How have you been, (Y/N)?" Vision asked as Wanda tried taking care of his injury.

"I've been good." You smiled. Wanda gave a small smile, looking at you.

"Talking to Bucky as always."

"Barnes?" Vision looked at you in surprise. You gave a small nod, cheeks flushing lightly. You and Bucky were still friends but you felt like there was something more though you didn't want to ask and get rejected. Sam landed the jet at the Avengers facility, the back opening. You and Sam helped Vision up, heading inside. You followed Steve and Natasha to the lab, noticing Secretary Ross hologram. You clenched your jaw, wishing he was there so you could punch him. Rhodes made the holograms disappear, giving Steve a smile and shaking his hand.

"Great seeing you, Cap." He said, giving Natasha a hug.

"You guys look like crap." Rhodes chuckled, looking over you and your friends.

"Surprised Ross didn't arrest you at Bartons place." Rhodes said, motioning to you.

"Clint doesn't mind lying to old assholes." You replied, chuckling softly. Your gaze went over to Bruce. It had been about a year or two since you had last seen him.

"Yeah, I'm- I'm back." Bruce said, nervously looking over everyone. Natasha's gaze and voice softened.

"Hi, Bruce." She greeted. Bruce gave a nod, silence filling the room.

"This is awkward." Sam said quietly. You snorted softly, following Rhodes to an office. You rolled your shoulders, walking to the mini kitchen and getting an apple.

"Where's Clint?" Bruce asked, turning to look at Natasha after being caught up.

"He and Scott took a deal to have their families on house arrest. I'm assuming he lied and said (Y/N) was with Steve and Sam." Natasha said, glancing back at you. You confirmed it with a nod.

"Who's Scott?"

"Ant-Man." Steve answered. Bruce blinked, brows furrowing.

"There's an Ant-Man and a Spider-Man?" He asked, head tilting. You chuckled softly, taking a seat.

"Okay, look. Thanos has the biggest army in the universe and he is not gonna stop until he.. He gets.. Visions' stone." Bruce said. You turned your head, looking at the Mind Stone.

"We have to protect it."

"We have to destroy it." Vision corrected, looking at everyone.

"I've been giving it a great deal of thought about this entity in my head.. It's nature and also its composition." Vision turned to look at Wanda, gaze soft as he approached her.

"I think if it were exposed to a sufficiently high energy source similar to its own signature then perhaps... It's integrity could fail." Vision said softly, placing a hand on Wandas' arm. Wanda shook her head lightly.

"And you with it." She stared at him with a small frown. "We're not having this conversation."

"That's too high a price." Wanda said quietly. You watched them, frowning as Wanda turned and walked away from him, eyes watering.

"Thanos needs to be stopped. One life cannot stand in the way of defeating him." Vision said, staring at his lover with a sadden gaze.

"We don't trade lives, Vision." Steve said, looking up at Vision. Vision turned to face him, walking towards him.

"You lied down your life to save millions of people. Tell me, why is this any different?" Vision asked. Steve face him, sighing softly.

"Because you might have a choice." Bruce said, looking at Vision.

"Your mind is made out of a complex system. Ultron, Tony, me, the stone.. All of them mixed together and learning from each other." Bruce said. Wanda turned, sniffling softly and tilting her head at his words.

"You're saying Vision isn't just the stone?"

"I'm saying, if we take out the stone, there's still a whole lot of Vision left. Perhaps the best parts." Bruce said. Natasha licked her lips, gaze flickering between Bruce and Vision.

"Can you do that?" Natasha asked softly. Bruce frowned, shaking his head. Steve turned his head to look at you.

"I know somewhere." He said. You stared at him before a wide smile spread across your face.

"Wakanda."

[xneens]

side to side

Warnings: swearing

Word count: 4.6k

Summary: In which you're performing your hit single in front of your fellow Avengers cast-mates and Chris can't seem to take his eyes off of you, catching the attention of a few cameras.

"I'm here with the biggest pop-star of this generation, and she plays the very talented daughter of Tony Stark," the interviewer announced your name, smiling brightly at you as the camera panned your way. The hundreds of thousands of fans at home screaming when your face appeared. "How do you feel with all your nominations tonight?"

You smiled at the camera, giving a small wave at the people watching at home. "Honestly, I'm just glad I was even considered for these nominations. I mean, my girls Taylor, and Billie...they're amazing and I'm so happy to be put in the same category as them."

The lady grinned at you, her eyes twinkling. Or maybe it was her sparkly dress, the fabric nearly blinding you with how it shined under the lights. "If you ask me, you've got a pretty good chance at winning. I mean, your hit single—Side to Side—surpassed, like, a billion views in just a month? That's impressive."

"Well, I couldn't have done it without my fans." you replied, winking at the camera.

It was that time of the year again, where every artist, actor, and YouTuber hit the stage for the People's Choice Awards. With your crazy schedule, and the lack of sleep, you had planned to skip the award show until your friend, and co-star, Chris Evans—Captain America himself—convinced you otherwise. Even with the categories you've been nominated for had been more than a handful, but it was the begging and constant complaining from Chris that made you get off your tired ass and put it into a tight dress.

Your hit single, Side to Side, had everyone anticipated for your performance, unsure if you would be performing until the producers had put your name into the advertisement, making fans blow up Twitter. You were sure they had advertised your own song, along with your movie nominations, more than you ever had.

With nominations of Movie of the Year (Avengers: Infinity War), Action Movie of the Year (Avengers: Infinity War), Female Movie Star of the Year (Amara Stark), Female Artist of the Year, Song of the Year (Side to Side), Music Video of the Year (Into You), Beauty Influencer of the Year, and Social Celebrity of the Year, you had your hands full, which had only made your manager glow with happiness.

"Of course!" the interviewer agreed, glancing at the teleprompter filled with tiny words. "It was rumored that you wouldn't be coming, and a lot of us were upset, including me. Was that just a rumor or..."

"Actually, it's not that far off. I'm fucking—oh, shit—oh no!" you gasped, covering your mouth before anymore foul words could come out on live television. Instead of correcting you, the lady laughed, patting your arm softly. "Can't say that on tv. My bad. I, uh, with everything going on, I've been really tired, and I haven't slept in a week. I just wanted to chill, and accept my nominations at home but someone convinced me to come. So, if I say or do anything ridiculous tonight, I'm blaming him and my lack of sleep."

She nodded, clapping slowly. "I think that's fair. Is that someone, your onscreen father, RDJ?"

"He was one of the many people who unsuccessfully changed my mind, but no, it was Chris Evans. He promised me a day with his adorable dog, Dodger, and I couldn't refuse." you said, grinning at how his face had changed from hopeless to cocky as soon as he brought up Dodger.

"If I'm remembering this correctly, Chris Evans is that very handsome man you had kissed in your music video earlier this year. Into You, right? How do you feel kissing one of your co-stars outside of the movies your working on?"

"Technically, it was still acting, and I have kissed him before, so it wasn't awkward at all." you answered, glad Chris had accepted the role. Not only had it sky-rocketed the views and streams, but it made you feel better that it was his lips you were kissing and not a random model's. Yet, it didn't feel as professional as it had before when you pulled away after a take.

In scenes where you had to kiss the Boston actor, it was as professional as kicking Anthony Mackie's ass in Civil War but the kisses you shared on the set of the music video was definitely more personal. At the time, you had brushed it off as Chris being recently single, but now that you had broken up with Henry, you started questioning it again.

The interviewer nodded, squinting once more to read the words off the teleprompter before asking you another question that would certainly make the headlines. "I've been reading up on all those juicy tabloids and I've got one question that would satisfy my curiosity. Was Into You written about Henry Cavill or Tom Ellis?"

Usually, that type of question made you change the subject or altogether avoid the matter but this time, you wanted to joke about your failed engagement. "Henry, but Side to Side was written about Tom since I wanted more Grammy's considering the last album I put out won me a few. But this time, I'm gonna do it without an engagement."

The woman faked a laugh, surprised by the blunt honesty of your answer. "Um, you certainly do have a thing for British men, eh? I don't want to keep you up, but one more thing, for the fans. They've been dying to know if there's anything going on between you and Chris Evans. Any tea you wanna spill?"

"There's none to spill. We're just friends but it's always amusing scrolling through Twitter to find these edits of us." you replied, fidgeting slightly with the hem of your dress. Like usual, you had wondered if you should've worn something less extra but you had let your stylist play dress up with you for the past few months.

"Of course. Well, good luck to you, and I can't wait to see your performance." she said, giving you a little pat on the shoulders before announcing your name once again.

You got off the little platform, immediately taking Chris' awaiting hand, holding onto it as you climbed down the steps in your dangerous stilettos. Sighing, you leaned on him, trying to avoid the blinding camera flashes. "That was more exhausting than I thought it would be. You need to get me some caffeine after this is over because there's no way I'm making it to the after show without at least a few cans of Red Bull."

"So dramatic." Chris grinned, childishly sticking his tongue out as he guided you down the red carpet, stopping when told to take a picture. He let go of your hand, only to wrap it around your waist as you posed for the pictures. "Are you going to the after party?"

Posing seriously for a few seconds, you let your smile back on your face, facing the man beside you. "I was thinking about it, take a few photos, and head back home. Aren't you?"

"Actually, I was thinking we could ditch it and just hang out. You know, I did promise you some time with Dodger and you could waste a couple hours sleeping." he replied, his hand tightening ever so slightly on your waist. Flashing you a shit-eating smirk, he nudged you a little, pulling you away from the blinding flashes. "What do you say?"

You opened your mouth to answer only to be cut off by your manager, Alexandre coming out of nowhere to rip you away from Chris' arms. The latin man sighed in annoyance, glancing at his watch while giving you the look you've seen too many times before. "You're supposed to be in wardrobe right now. Get your ass backstage, and change before you miss your own performance. As for you, Mr. Evans, Megan wants your ass in a chair."

"I'll see you after." you say, getting dragged by your manager, winking at the actor before walking towards the changing area, the cameras following you until they couldn't enter the area.

Getting ready before a huge performance always calmed you down, maybe it was the smell of makeup or the feel of designer clothing made especially for you, but something about it made you feel comfortable and cozy. It was like a routine, especially with all the music videos and movies you had to film, the makeup, the hair.

They made you sit back, giving you your phone like a child while they made you even more sparkly than before, making sure you'd stand out against the flashing lights during the performance. A performance you made sure no one would ever forget. Smiling, you let your thoughts drift back to a certain super soldier as you were pampered.

—

"Welcome to the People's Choice Awards!"

The room darkened, the blue and pinks lights focusing on the stage as cameras all turned towards your shadow. Making sure your mic was set properly, tried to see past the darkness, to see a familiar face or two but with the headache coming on from the tight half-ponytail didn't help your case. The music started, the beat vibrating, you flipped your hair, and started.

"I've been there all night

I've been there all day (Nicki Minaj)

And boy, got me walkin' side to side (Let then hoes know)"

You rode the bike, belting out in your microphone, the attached headset limiting your movements a little. Gripping the handles, you made eye contact at the camera to your left, winking at it as you pedaled.

"I'm talkin' to ya

See you standing over there with your body

Feeling like I wanna rock with your body

And we don't gotta think 'bout nothin'

I'm comin' at ya

'Cause I know you got a bad reputation

Doesn't matter, 'cause you give me temptation

And we don't gotta think 'bout nothin'"

As you had sung, your eyes had adjusted to the bright spotlight focused on you, seeing a shadow of the one person you wanted to make you walk side to side. While you had answered the reporter's question, you hadn't been completely honest. Some of the lyrics had been written for the Bostonian; or to be more exact, your sex fantasies. With the chorus coming up, you let go of the handles, trying not to fall on your ass as you clapped your hands above your head, the claps matching the beat.

"These friends keep talkin' way too much

Say I should give you up

Can't hear them, no, 'cause I..."

Trying to be bold, you stared at him, his face in particular. The spotlight had blinded you so much that you couldn't see what his reaction was—or anyone's for that matter—but maybe it was a good thing. After all, his gaze always made you blush no matter how hard you tried not to. Pedaling faster, you threw your head back, hoping the motion would draw everyone's—Chris'—eyes on your chest.

"I've been here all night

I've been here all day

And boy, got me walkin' side to side

I've been here all night

I've been here all day

And boy, got me walkin' side to side"

With the help of a shirtless dancer, you got off your bike, taking the sheer jacket from him, and putting it on as you walked towards the front of the stage, moving your hips in to the beat of the song. Resting a hand on a shirtless dancer, you positioned yourself so you were grinding your ass against his crotch, throwing back an arm around his neck.

"Been tryna hide it

Baby, what's it gonna hurt if they don't know?

Makin' everybody think that we solo

Just as long as you know you got me

And boy, I got ya

'Cause tonight I'm making deal with the devil

And I know it's gonna get me in trouble

Just as long as you know you got me"

Sashaying to the little balance beam at the front of the stage, you made sure your hips swayed more than usual.

"These friends keep talkin' way too much

Say I should give you up

Can't hear them, no, 'cause I...

"I've been here all night

I've been here all day

And boy, got me walkin' side to side

I've been here all night

I've been here all day

And boy, got me walkin' side to side"

A few seconds after your note ended, you strike a pose on the balance beam, posing for a few more seconds while the cameras turned their attention away from you and onto the queen of rap herself: Nicki Minaj. The leather, pink bodysuit was identical to yours except for the color, her attitude fitting the badass outfit. She began to walk towards the stage, never breaking eye contact with the camera in front of her while the men pretending to work out to the choreo.

"Uh, yeah

This the new style with the fresh type of flow

Wrist icicle, ride dick bicycle

Come through yo, get you this type of blow

If you want a ménage, I got a tricycle

All these bitches' flows is my mini-me

Body smoking, so they call me Young Nicki Chimney

Rappers in they feelings 'cause they feelin' me

Uh, I-I give zero fucks and I got zero chill in me

Kissing me, copped the blue box that say Tiffany

Curry with the shot, just tell 'em to call me Stephanie

Gun pop, then I make my gum pop

I'm the queen of rap"

By the time she had finished her verse, you had caught up with the multitasking of both working out and singing, able to use your full singing capabilities for your high note. Nicki joined you on stage, hyping up the crowd while you built up for the high note, almost every camera pointed at you except for the one focused on capturing the headline-worthy expression slapped on Chris' face.

"These friends keep talkin' way too much

Say I should give em up

Can't hear them, no, 'cause I...

"I've been here all night (Been here all night, baby)

I've been here all day (Been here all night, baby)

And boy, got me walkin' side to side (Side to side)

I've been here all night (Been here all night, baby)

I've been here all day (Been here all day, baby) (Ooh, baby)

And boy, got me walkin' side to side (Side to side)"

Both you and Nicki motioned for the dancers to come towards you, curling your index finger at the sexy men. Singing the refrain, you both made them drop to their knees in front of you, as if they were kneeling at your command.

Just as the last note was sung, everyone clapped, the majority standing up, and more cheered. You noticed Chris hadn't done either, still sitting in his motionless while two camera men pointed their cameras at him. Your eyebrows furrowed, thankfully after the spotlight had shifted over to the miniature stage where the two hosts were babbling about nominations.

You were ushered off the stage along with the queen of rap herself, taking a few backstage photos before quickly returning back to your dressing room to change into your tailored dress. Your mind had wandered to why Chris hadn't applauded—not that he was obliged too, but a little something would've nice, especially with all the days put into the performance.

Taking a deep breath, you entered the big room, filled with your co-stars and other A-list celebrities. Little did you know you'd find out the reason to your question in the morning.

—

The loud ringtone woke you up, the sound obnoxious and borderline abuse to your ears. Beside you, Chris groaned, rolling onto his stomach, trying to muffle the sound of the call with his arm draped over his head. Putting him out his misery, you lazily reached for your phone, pressing the green button with dread, seeing the name across the screen.

"Hello—"

"You're trending on Twitter." Alexandre announced, happy with the results of the previous awards show. While it wasn't something as big as a Grammy or Oscar, judging by the amount of awards you had taken home, you became the people's favorite. "Hold on, lemme rephrase that. You and Chris are trending. Number one, world wide."

Glancing at the man sleeping beside you, you sat up, confused by the information given to you. You blamed Chris for making you stay up so late for your confusion. "Um, why? Did I accidentally have another nip slip?"

"What the hell?" Chris mumbled, rolling onto his back, his arm grazing your bare stomach. He immediately took it back, sitting up to look over your puzzled face. "What's going on?"

You shrugged, putting your phone on speaker so Alexandre could explain. Your manager chuckled, knowing you had stayed the night with Chris. He was just waiting for the day you'd finally have the guts to speak about the growing sexual tension. "Okay, Alex, explain."

"As much as I would love to go into full detail, I have other stuff to do so, I'm going to give you the basics. Chris' reaction to your performance went viral, people are shipping the both of you, and there's been thousands of memes made." Alexandre replied, a smile evident in his voice. "Anyways, I have to go. Got some interviews to schedule. Have fun getting your way out of this, Chris."

Your phone screen went back to the home screen, a picture of your family dog, Buster, smiling widely. Looking at Chris, you saw his eyes widened, his hands coming to rest of his face in embarrassment as he fell back onto the bed with a bounce, his head nearly hitting the headboard. "Oh, fuck."

"Are you going to show me what your face looked like or do I have to scroll through Twitter until I find it? Oh! Maybe they edited it in my performance." you thought out load, tapping on the YouTube app. You hadn't trusted yourself enough to log into your official account, knowing you'd probably make a mistake so you opted for having a secondary account where you could watch cat videos without the anxiety of posting something stupid.

Chris' hand snatched your phone away, tucking it in his pocket, the sweats he had slept in was somehow wrinkled, and his shirt damp from the warmth. "You wanna get some food? I'll cook some bacon but you'll have to make the pancakes 'cause the last time—"

"I wanna see your reaction." you whined, reaching across his stomach for your phone. Chris turned his body away from you, shielding the phone from your reach. "Chris!"

He waved your attempt away, rolling off the bed, his feet hitting the floor before you could fall back on the mattress.You poured, getting on all fours, crawling towards the edge. Chris took a step back, brows furrowing. "It's not important. Let's get you some food."

"Fine." you mumbled, an idea making you light up. Rolling off the bed, you glanced at his phone on the nightstand, exposed and easy to take. With quick reflexes, you grabbed his phone, rolling back on the bed until you reached the other side, making it impossible for him to reach for his phone back.

"Hey!" the Bostonian shouted, launching himself on the bed in attempt to get his phone back. He made a noise as you rushed out of your room, locking yourself in the nearby bathroom, laughing evilly when he threw himself at the door. He yelled out your name, his fist banging on the door. "I'm serious! Don't!"

Ignoring his begging, you opened his phone with your thumbprint. How ironic how much he didn't want you to look at his phone when he was the one who insisted you have the password to it. His arguments became louder as you opened up his Twitter, immediately heading to the trending section, seeing both your names at the number one spot.

"Damn, I look hot." you joked out loud, making Chris silent for a second before pleading for you not to continue. You smirked, scrolling through the tweets, trying to find his reaction. "Jesus Christ, what the hell happened to you? Did you fall on your face or something?"

Chris groaned, banging his head on the door in defeat as he heard your almost inaudible gasp, that quickly turned into little giggles. If he wasn't so embarrassed, he would've broken the door down to hold you in his arms. "Oh, no."

Bursting out into hard laughter, you fell into the large bathtub, hitting your head on the wall but you couldn't care less. The expression on his face during your performance had been borderline comical, the wide eyes, the jaw hanging open, the open hand resting on his chin while his eyes stayed strained on you the whole time, never wavering from your body, the sexy choreography making his jeans tight.

Cackling like the Wicked Witch of the West, tears ran down your cheeks, your stomach cramping from the maniacal laughter. Lifting yourself up from the tub, you stumbled to the door, your loud laugh ringing out towards the whole house. You let Chris in the bathroom, his phone quickly taken from your hand but it was too late. The blush on his cheeks wasn't going away anytime soon. You leaned against him, your head resting on his chest, while you panted out a question. "Why did you look like you were trying to attract flies in your mouth?"

Chris groaned again, covering his eyes with a hand while the other rested on your back. "You're not going to let me live this down, are you?"

"Oh, God, no." you giggled, wiping the tears away, beginning to calm down. Glancing up at him, you noticed everything above the shoulders was gleaming red, the embarrassment too unbearable for him. "Chris, you looked exactly like the first time we were forced to share a bed together."

"Yeah, you have that affect on me."

"You gonna tell me why you looked so ... shocked? Or do I have to search through Twitter and go with whatever fan theory makes the most sense?" you asked, unable to keep the smug grin off your face. Chris closed his eyes, wishing he hadn't made you come to the awards show in the first place. You raised an eyebrow, fingers itching towards his phone. "You know I'll do it, Evans."

The man raised his hands, taking them off of you as he paced around the bathroom, deciding if this embarrassing moment was the right time to finally confess. "It's just, you know, the dance was so ... sexual and hot that I probably wasn't the only one looking at you like that. You can't exactly blame me for being shocked, watching the girl I'm in love with—"

Chris stopped as you be watched the colors drain out of your face, immediately freezing when he realized what he had said. Both of you stared at each other, eyes wide, not moving a muscle, barely blinking; the atmosphere so tense neither of you were breathing, waiting for the other to talk. But neither of you wanted to go first, terrified.

It wasn't until you started to feel dizzy that you realized you hadn't been breathing, letting out a huge breath, trying to relax while Chris did the same, his hands shaking, a nervous tick he got whenever he was anxious. You got the courage to speak first.

"What?"

It was better than nothing.

Chris was so nervous he nearly ran out of the room. There wasn't some kind of handbook or script he could read, helping him tell one of his best friends how head over heels he was for her. So, he said what his brain was stewing. "What?"

"What—what?" you replied, unsure if he even said the L word, so lightheaded by the sudden confession.

The actor stilled, eyes widening even further, while his eyebrows shot up his forehead. "What?"

"What?"

"What?"

"Say what one more time, Evans, and I will make nothing but mac and cheese for the rest of your stay." you threatened softly, getting tired of not having an answer to your one-worded question.

Chris took a deep breath, hands trembling as he clasped them together, hoping to find the right words, hoping his inner thoughts would come out clear, giving you the answer you asked for. "I'm sorry. What do you want me to say?"

"What you were saying before. You know, before you looked like you saw a ghost and almost stopped breathing. I think that would be a good start." you replied, backing up to take a seat on the plush chair. Chris mirrored your actions, putting down the lid to the toilet before sitting down.

"This isn't the way I wanted you to find out." Chris whispered, his blue eyes trained on the emotions that flashed on your face. Your uncertainty of the situation didn't help his anxiety.

"Okay, um, were you going to tell me in the first place?" you asked, playing with the hem of your shirt—it had been a borrowed Patriots shirt from him. Looking back, you realized all the little things he'd done hadn't been because his platonic love for you. "Or were you just going to keep letting it be this way?"

Fidgeting with his hands, Chris peered through his eyelashes, seeing the hurt flash across your face before you quickly composed it. "Scott was hyping me up, trying to convince me to tell you before you got into another relationship. Do you know the real reason I broke up with Jenny? It hurt like hell when you announced you were engaged. Fuck, I couldn't even pretend to be happy because you were going to have the life I wanted with you, with someone who wasn't me. It was selfish and I got really mad at myself for being a dick."

"But—"

"And then the horrible, horrible relief I felt when you called off the engagement." Chris continued, his heart clenching. "Truth to be told, that was the day I found out I was in love with you, breaking things off with Jenny. Of course, I wanted to wait until you moved on, hoping to be the friend you went to but with my schedule, that was impossible. So, you seemed out comfort in Henry fucking Cavill."

"You're in love with me?" you whispered, hoping this wasn't some kind of cruel dream. If it was, you wouldn't mind staying.

The actor nodded, waiting for you to call him names and rush out. "Yes. You can leave or slap me or whatever you want to do but I love you."

You got up, running a hand through your hair. "Okay."

Chris' heart sank, wishing for any other kind of reaction, wishing you'd do something. Taking a deep breath, he got up. "Is this a goodbye?"

Frowning, you walked up to him, taking his face between with your hands, pressing your lips softly to his. You could feel his heart beat, the little organ beating so hard. You pulled away before he could recover from his shock, before he could kiss you back.

"Hello."

[getitinbusan]

The Studio Sessions - Part 4

Smut Series

It's Min Yoongi's birthday and you're ready to give him whatever he wants. When he makes a sarcastic wish while blowing out the candles he didn't think you'd take it seriously. But he's glad you did.

When word spreads about these special "Studio Sessions" everyone wants to collaborate. A chaptered 0T7 smut. 

These stand alone but why wouldn't you read them all?

The Collaborators so far:

Taehyung

Jimin

Namjoon & J hope

The Jin Collaboration

Moans, grunts and the sound of skin slapping on skin filled the air as the monitor played your sex scene on the oversized monitor. It was on it's second loop, Yoongi already watching it in full, had left to make sure you were okay.

Hand in hand you made your way back to the comfort of his studio. As he held the door open for you, your first sight was Jin standing in front of Yoongi's desk. His dick was in his hand furiously stroking himself as the video of Hoseok and Joon tag teaming you played. 

"Is there anyone around here that doesn't want to fuck my girlfriend?" Yoongi startled him.

Nervously fumbling he tried to tuck himself back into his pants.

"What were you looking for Jin? Were you hoping to find something?" you asked in a teasing tone.

Stammering as his face blushed hot,  "Taehyung...he told me I should come down here."

You cocked an eyebrow, "And what did Taehyung tell you you'd find if you did?" 

He looked apprehensively at your boyfriend, "He said, Yoongi was letting you have sex with everyone." 

Yoongi couldn't help but grin at how flustered you were making him. "If you thought I was going to fuck you, why are you in here all alone playing with yourself like a naughty little boy?"

Looking dejected and embarrassed he started to walk towards the exit. 

"Do you like her?" Yoongi asked his Hyung. Jin turned back towards him and nodded, "Maybe if you ask her nicely she'll let you touch her."

Usually overconfident it was strange to see him so ruffled.

"Would you…" his voice was quiet, "I mean, can I?" 

Feeling bad, you knew Jin hadn't been with anyone since his break up months ago. The split was partially because he had a penchant for being tied up and she thought it was strange. Her loss.

"I would, and you can."

He was clearly nervous about this whole situation watching closely as Yoongi moved to sit at his desk,

"You're staying in the room?" Jin seemed surprised. "Isn't that...weird?"

Yoongi laughed, "So to be clear, the weird part isn't that I'm letting everyone get off with my girlfriend, it's that I'm watching while she does it?"

Jin was getting his back up, "I just...I don't think I'm comfortable with you watching me."

While Jin was older, Yoongi never had a problem putting him in his place. "Don't flatter yourself, I've got better things to do than watch your wrinkly balls, take it or leave it."

Getting frustrated, their stupid arguing was pushing you further away from the finish line.

"Listen, Yoongi's going to do his work," you directed your statement towards him. "Which, may I remind you, is how this whole thing got started in the first place."  

Looking at Jin, "You, you're going to get fucked so hard you'll forget he's even here, okay??"

Both men huffed out a "fine" before Yoongi turned in his chair and put his headphones on. 

Standing face to face you ran your fingers through Jin's hair, giving it a firm tug you pulled his head down until his lips were on yours. He was practically purring, all thoughts of Yoongi forgotten as your tongue explored his mouth.

His eyes were closed and his lips were holding a grin, as your other hand rubbed over his chest.  You could feel his fingers working the front buttons of your dress open. Pushing the thin fabric from your skin, your breast was left exposed, he pulled his lips from yours and stared hungrily.

Tracing the outline of your nipple with his index finger it hardened under his touch. He pulled his shirt off, the wet excitement growing between your legs. His chest and shoulders were like a chiseled Greek Adonis sculpture. 

Working your tongue over his abdomen you pushed him backwards onto the couch. Straddling him, his cock was hard underneath you.

Removing your dress for the 4th time that day you rubbed your core over his denim covered cock. He felt huge, and you couldn't wait to get your mouth on him.

He groaned when you stood up, leaving your damp markings on his jeans. "Please don't stop," his desperate begging spurred you on.

Getting on your knees beside the couch you unzipped his pants, his boxers were BT21 and had RJ all over them.

"Always your own biggest fan huh?" You giggled at him, "Let's see what else you've got in here."

Reaching in he was unbelievably hard and wet, weeping with pre cum. "Are you excited for my mouth Oppa? I want to see what your cum tastes like."

He closed his eyes and his mouth parted like he wanted to say something but could only nod.

Wrapping your lips around him you only teased the tip, sucking gently but not going any deeper. Ignoring his shaft he was getting desperate trying to thrust  into your throat.

He grabbed the top of your head to push you further onto his cock but you shoved his hands away. "That's not how this works," you scolded him. "Stand up and take your pants off." 

As he stood undressing you looked around the room. Walking to the desk you ran your hands over Yoongi's shoulders and kissed his cheek.

Pulling one side of his head phones up you lifted the extra USB cables off his shelf, "mind if I borrow these?"

Smiling wide he nodded his approval. Jin, at first puzzled, lit up when he realized you were tying the cables into zip snares.

Wrapping his hands behind his back and his feet together you helped him onto the couch. "How's that feel? Are you comfortable?"

His cock was so agitated you were worried he may cum on his own. "I'm good, he panted out." 

"Good won't do, I think we can do better than that." 

Positioning your mouth you let out a hot breath over his testicles. Warming and relaxing them with your tongue you needed them to drop a little so you could safely bind them.

Satisfied with their position, you began tying his cock and balls together. The restricted blood flow would make sure his pleasure lasted a while.

He watched in reverence as you skillfully wound the cables, whimpering a little with the final tug to secure his confinement.

His cock stood up straight and stiff, "Do you want me to fuck it or suck it?" You queried out loud.

"Fuck it...please Y/N fuck it." 

"I really need to cum Jin, I think I'll be able to focus on you more if I get off first," you teased.

He threw his head back in frustration as you squatted over his face. You let him struggle, tongue just out of reach. "You want a taste?"

Inserting a finger into yourself you pulled it back out and licked it clean. It was the perfect mix of this morning's escapades, Yoongi, Tae and Namjoons cum mixed with your own creamy excitement.

Lowering yourself onto his face you instructed, "Just a lick."

His tongue lapped you, swirling around your clit, you wanted more but it wasn't part of the game you were playing right now.

"That's enough," you said, placing yourself just out of reach again.

"I need you to cum Y/N, I can't take this teasing."

"I think you can, in fact, I think you like it."

Inserting your fingers back inside yourself you pumped them, aggressively masturbating over his face. Droplets of your juices had covered his skin by the time you'd finished satisfying yourself.

Hands still bound he was helpless, licking his face you cleaned up your own mess. "That feels better," you declared while leaning over to inspect his cock tie.

His abs were drizzled with strands of sticky pre cum, his desire to have you was extremely flattering.

"Let's take care of you."

You stroked his shaft watching it ooze before finally climbing on top of him. Slowly, torturously you enveloped his cock with your cunt.

Leaning back on your heels you rode him so you could both watch him entering you. "Jesus Jin, how the fuck don't you have a girlfriend?"

He was so hard, the way his head pressed into your g spot sent lightning through your body. Yoongi was staring at your bouncing tits as you got off, cumming all over his hyung. Jin's load was huge, unable to contain it, it leaked out all over him lying spent beneath you. 

Reaching for your dress you carefully used it to wipe him off.

Undoing the cords carefully you massaged him, "Can you show me how to tie those sometime? he asked.

Yoongi chimed in from across the room "you can practice with those ones, I don't think I want them back." 

_______________________________

Yoongi laughed as your smile beamed towards him, "Pretty impressed with yourself aren't you?" 

You nodded "I can't believe I still remember how to tie those knots."

He pulled you into his lap and kissed you, "how come you've never done that to me?" 

"I didn't think you'd be interested."

"I didn't think so either until I saw you doing it." 

You ran your fingers through his hair, "So today we've learned that you like watching, don't mind sharing, aren't opposed to taking a cock and kind of want me to tie you up?" 

He laughed "What can you possibly have left in store for Jungkook?" 

_______________________________

Jungkook

Yoongi

@phoenicia1533

[starbide]

Inspiration below. The following is a work of fiction.

 'Six years,' I thought to myself walking down the road. It had rained earlier that evening, but by now the clouds were long gone. The pavement shimmered in the waxing moonlight, still slick with the water of those vanished clouds. I would not slip; the road was mostly level as it lazily stretched down the gentle hill behind me, and the streetlamps cast in gold what the moon would otherwise leave dim. The world was silent.

'It's hard to believe I've been gone that long,' I continued, step by step. Six years since I'd moved away for my career. Six years since I'd left my family behind. 'Left her behind,' I smirked to myself, passing a large bush on my right. Houses stood dark and serene on either side, all daily activities complete and put to rest. No cars joined me on the waterlogged street, preferring the concrete comfort of their driveways and garages. I approached and passed under another hazy lamp.

It was cool out, a gentle breeze brushed past the wool of my jacket without raising a single goose bump. I paid it no mind; I was always a bit warmer blooded than others in my circle. My best friend for most of my school years couldn't understand my ability to wear shorts comfortably year-round. 'Those were the days,' I mused, thinking back to the last time we'd seen each other. It had to be more than a decade at this point, long before I'd moved north for work and expanded my wardrobe to include legwear longer than my knees.

I reached an intersection and paused. Four ways, no direction more enticing or foreboding than the next. A lamp at every corner, and the bus station deserted save by its sign across the diagonal. The station I'd waited at patiently every morning for that bright yellow school bus, before I'd ever met my old bestie. It was just me and one other kid, a rather scrawny looking boy who had been in most of my elementary grades but with whom I'd never really gotten on with. We'd shared classes, teachers, and the occasional pencil or marker, but never played together outside of academia. He'd moved away much longer than a decade ago. Now I was really delving into my memory, faded as it was with time.

I checked my phone: 11:57 PM in small white font. My first night back home, I should be exhausted. This wasn't my normal time zone and airplane seats aren't exactly memory foam, but I'd found a second wind after dinner and took to the night after my folks had gone to bed themselves. Sure, I'd been physically gone for six years, but we'd stayed in touch off and on since I'd left. Maybe five months back was our last video call. We'd talked about me taking this trip, now that things had settled down and my life was much more under control. Things had been wild for a while, and if all went according to plan at work things would become wild again not too far down the line. Which reminded me, I needed to make another appointment when I returned home. Couldn't go running out of my prescription again.

A brief twitch of motion caught my eye, and I peered down the leftward lane. One of the bulbs had burned out a few dozen meters down, and in this larger pool of darkness something had moved. At least I thought it had, but my eyes could be playing tricks on me with the shadows. One dark spot moving erratically through a larger, differently dark spot wasn't exactly proof of anything. But of course, my heartbeat quickened regardless. Base human instinct, I suppose. Spot a motion in the dark, prepare to act to either fight or flee.

That hallucination had triggered something else in me though. A memory, unconsciously bidden, rose up behind my eyes. That kid, the little one I'd shared a bus stop with for years, I did not recall being nice to often. Many times, I'd engaged in common teasing, and he always took it personally. A couple times he'd even cried, but I'd never gotten in much trouble for it. A different time I supposed. That sort of behavior wouldn't fly nowadays, and that's good. I felt a bit sick thinking back about it, as it was now clear I'd been a bit of a bully. What it hadn't been was a wake-up call for my parents, who didn't get me the help I had so desperately needed until much later in my teens. I was better now, better enough to see what I'd done back then was very wrong. I couldn't remember all of it, but that boy's tears had stuck with me. I wonder what happened to him?

Shaking my head to clear my thoughts and calm my pulse, I opted for the path in front. This route would wind close to the park, after a couple turns beyond my current field of vision. Crossing the street, I didn't even bother looking left or right, as the night was so quiet and empty, I could hear a car coming from miles away, if there were any to hear. A rock lay in the far side gutter; I kicked it just to give my ears some stimulation. It knocked against the cement curb and bounced across puddles thin as saran wrap to a rest. By then I'd already forgotten about it and left that intersection behind.

Another thought was creeping up from my subconscious, this one more distasteful than the last. I'd left a girl behind when I moved for work, and the breakup hadn't been pleasant. She'd been very upset, naturally, and felt betrayed I was abandoning her like that. Abandoning. It had been her word, not mine, but with the clarity of distance I could see she was right. It had been years since I'd considered how we ended, and I wasn't sure what spurred those thoughts just now, but after what I'd done to her, I could accept she was right.

Still though, rounding the first turn, my leaving her should have been a good thing. Now that the floodgates of memory were open, I may as well dive right in. She'd been so hurt by my sudden departure because I'd systematically isolated her from her friends and much of her family too. She'd grown more and more attached to me, and I'd encouraged that through some particularly devilish means. I didn't know about the term 'gaslighting' at the time, but that was a polite way of putting it. I'd been very proficient at psychological manipulation back then, and my desire for control over her life could have consumed us both. At the end, she'd only had limited contact with her sister, who had been rightly concerned about her but too terrified of me to do anything to stop me. Looking back, I can't blame her. I now believe it was good that I left when I did. I hope she realized the same, though I haven't heard from her since.

Now the road turned left, arcing gradually around a thicker cluster of trees. This walk was turning out to be less relaxing than I'd hoped. The smallest things seemed to be dredging up thoughts and old memories in me, and none of them were painting me in the best light. Being my thoughts, maybe that was the best light I could possibly be presented in. Maybe their memories of me, the version of me still living in their mind, was far worse than I could imagine on this unassuming suburban night. I'd read somewhere that we're all the hero of our own story, and of course the hero never thinks they're the villain. But I'm sure that's what I am in at least a few people's stories. I'm starting to feel like the villain in my own.

Opening up ahead of me is the park, and the wide-open fields I remember so well. This area is less well lit, with streetlamps only illuminating the edges of the grass and allowing the moon to bathe the world in dead white. In reality, this is only sunlight reflected, but from the moon it feels much less like the bright star that gives this planet life. Like Luna itself, it feels cold and impersonal, like it wouldn't actively try to end my life but also wouldn't even notice if I merely faded away into the ether. I'd had some trouble with those thoughts as well over the years, before I got help. And now, rushing back to me, I remember they were also why I lost my best friend.

He and I had been out for the evening, playing some game with a few other friends. The game had ended, and we were walking home together when a car had rushed past us. Neither he nor I were injured, but it had been close and the driver had continued on recklessly. After it rounded the corner, we'd both heard a large thumping sound, followed by the rapidly diminishing roar of its engine. After a quick glance between us we'd rushed around the corner ourselves to see a big yellow dog crumpled up in the drain. Not losing a moment we hurried up to it, but we needn't have rushed. It had most likely died on impact, before we even saw it.

My friend had knelt down next to it to try and save it, even though it was hopeless. He must have known, but it's only natural to want to help another life. At least, it is for me now, and it was for him then. I remember him crouched over the dog, tears in his eyes when he accepted what happened, and then he looked up at me. His tears ebbed and his face froze in fear at what he saw, but he couldn't say anything to me at the time. We walked home in uncomfortable silence after that, and said a short awkward goodbye. Truth be told, that's the last time we spoke to each other in person.

Thinking of the next part, I felt a chill run deep into my core. I remembered now what he told me, over text message later that night. He'd bent over the dog and been so distraught because he knew it. He'd checked the tag to be sure, but it was his neighbor's dog that he'd grown up playing with. I think he'd even muttered its name a couple times, but I'm not sure. But when he looked up at me, he said I had the biggest grin he'd ever seen. The look on my eyes was not maniacal, as some would think, but dead, not present. As if the dog dying had brought out a whole new face in me, as if the lights were on but nobody was home, and yet the lights still wanted to kill you. It had terrified him, and it was all he could do not to sprint from me that moment without looking back. I don't think he ever knew how right he'd been back then, something that took me years to realize and longer to overcome.

I quietly walked to the center of the field, as far from the streetlights as possible, and looked up. The moon provided none of the same dangers as the sun when staring straight at it, and I took a few moments to just gaze at it and let my thoughts sort themselves out. I'd been a monster in my childhood, a terror in my youth, before I found my doctor and we set out on a years-long journey to get me better. Any other time I'd have kept on that dangerous path, ruining some lives and possibly ending others. That had all changed, thanks to my incredible fortune and a lot of hard work, but with the clarity of hindsight I could see just how close to the precipice I'd come. How I'd always be there in the minds of childhood mates and adolescent connections. And this was just what I could remember now. There was no way for me to know how many other monstrous versions of me still lived in any number of former classmates.

In the corner of my eye, I saw another twitch in the shadows. Jerking my head down, I followed the motion to the foot of the trees, the darkest spot on the field. This time there was no mistake; there was definitely an object moving there, slowly but surely. My heartbeat shot up and my throat swelled as I bent my knees and got into a defensive posture. The object lumbered forward, moving without haste but with purpose. When it came into the light, I was surprised to see a little boy with a scratched-up shirt and messy brown hair. Standing up in confusion, I was certain I'd seen him somewhere before. Step by step, I focused on every detail I could make out in the gloom, before it hit me like the car that last night walking home.

That boy was dressed, to the letter, the exact same way I had on picture day in third grade. My hair had been an untamable brown mess, and even the cheap novelty watch was the same. I was more perplexed than anything now, as I couldn't understand for the life of me what a kid was doing in that field, at midnight, wearing clothes that weren't even made any more. That was until he spoke, and his voice froze my blood in its veins.

It was like whispers, floating around my head, and several voices all at once and all taking turns being the loudest. They were all his, but not really. His mouth had opened and his lips were framing the syllables, but it was my voice from so many years ago repeating every taunt, every tease, every foul nickname I'd ever given that scrawny boy who shared a bus stop with me. Who'd cried, not once or twice, but dozens of times. Who'd gone home often with scrapes and tears in his clothes personally inflicted by myself. I had terrorized him for years of his early life, and what I saw before me must be what I forever lived as in his memory.

But if that were true, then this kid in front of me couldn't be real. I had to be hallucinating again, I must have been more exhausted than I'd allowed myself to feel. He sure looked real, though, and his footsteps were matting the grass in a way I didn't trust my mind to make up. But the ghostly, strangled voices of my younger self crashing in waves into my ears gave the entire scene a surreal feeling, making the hair on the back of my neck stick up like electricity. I couldn't bring myself to step away, and I sure as hell wasn't going to walk forward to meet him. It. Whatever it was I was seeing, real or not.

Only a few meters away, he stopped moving. Swallowing bile, I could do little more than watch him as the voices continued to echo in my ears, unchanged by his distance all this time. Then I spotted another motion far off to my right, and then a third to my left. Glancing quickly between them, I determined that they were both noticeably older than the child before me, one by a few more years than the other. They too walked slowly towards me, bringing their own voices to the forefront. Despite the dozens of voices I now thought I was hearing, every word registered clearly in my mind. One was speaking about my old best friend and the dog, the other repeated every lie I ever told my ex-girlfriend before leaving. As if their mere presence in my eyes were not enough, hearing my old, hateful words repeated to me in my own voice almost made me vomit with fear and disgust.

They too, stopped approaching me at the same distance as the child. As they did, dozens more similar hallucinations emerged from the trees and surrounding neighborhood, all carrying their own chorus of hate and venom and bringing back new, abhorrent memories of my youth. Terrorizing a girl in my 4th grade class. Catching squirrels in my early teens and setting them on fire, then getting caught myself. Giving that kindergartner a major concussion on a dare, after my best friend had ceased speaking to me. Even one similar in age to myself now, though he brought words of loss and failure, and of betrayal to my parents. That must have been right before my breakthrough, with the doctor and an early test version of my current prescription. I was better now. I had to be. But why was I seeing all of this, all of these versions of me locked in the minds of everyone who I'd left behind in my life? My trail of destruction?

They had all stopped walking now, forming a tight semicircle around me. The voices still buzzed in my ears, but slowly they faded to an indistinguishable babble. I tried to speak, but my throat had caught a bubble, so I gulped fruitlessly and closed my mount again. The thoughts racing through my mind had no similar handicap, as my mind shouted repeatedly the same things. Who are you all? Why is this happening? What are you doing to me?

The version of me who gaslit my girl took a couple steps forward, as if presenting himself as the leader. I had no time to process what this might mean before he spoke, in a much clearer form than any of these hallucinations had yet. "We are you. We are you that you left behind, trapped in the minds of those you hurt, frozen in time from the moment you left us years or decades ago. We have had no life to live, no chance to grow and thrive, no possibility to leave the prisons of mind which you left us in, being tortured again and again by those you tortured without remorse and without recompense. We cannot sit by from behind our bars as you continue to enjoy the life you stole from us all."

"I didn't know I was doing this!" I cried, finally able to break the blockade in my throat. "I was a monster, I know that well now, and I've spent years trying to recover from the damage I've done!" I felt foolish, yelling out into the night at visions only visible to myself. 'All this work, all this progress,' I cried to myself. 'This will set me back months if not more, and I can only hope my medication doesn't fail like I have.'

The same me looked down at the ground and shook his head slowly. "I'm sorry, but you must know how little that matters to us. You've lived a life of freedom from any repercussions and locked us away to suffer in your place. You've flaunted that fact with your precious medical tools and until tonight, hadn't even remembered us or what you did to torture and imprison us. We are here now for the life that you stole from us, to end the torture you sentenced us to and walked away from yourself unscathed." He took another step forward, his face growing menacing.

"I don't know what that means," I cried, shaking my head as the tears started to drop. This was starting to feel all too real, and fear was expanding like a balloon deep into my core. "I don't know what any of this means. What do you want from me!?"

Another step. "We want your life," the gaslighter said mirthlessly. "We all want your life, the life wrongly denied us time and time again. And you will learn what it means to be ripped apart and put back together, over and over again. Tortured yourself for what you did to so many people in your life. You gave us to them to burn, to break, to grind down into dust and be restored only to do it all over tomorrow. You tortured them, and then you gave them us to work their revenge on, day after day with no hope of an end. And the most unforgivable of all was giving the youngest of you away to feel this pain the longest. Over two decades have the youngest of us been taken to pieces, shattered in mind and body and soul for your carelessness and your fleeting experiments in sociopathy. This will end tonight."

I could say nothing, the terror burning white on my face. If this was a hallucination, it was the worst one I'd ever had and I had no idea how I'd survive it. It was far too realistic, far too deadly for me to think of anything else, any of the tricks and tools my doctor had given me. What had happened to cause this? I swear I never missed a day on my prescription, and these memories... Where had they all been before? Why had I not been able to recover them and work through them with my doctor? Were they even real? Was this me, standing only a meter away now, real? Or was he only real in my mind, and if he wanted to hurt me would that distinction make a difference? I reached out my hand, reaching toward his arm slack against his torso...

And he reached out and took my wrist like a vice. Ice cold and unflinching, he held my arm up in front of me and closed the gap between us imperceptibly fast. "You may have many regrets. I have only one," he said in a low, bloodthirsty voice. "While there are dozens of us gathered here, dozens you sentenced to eternal damnation without a second thought, only one of us may live this life. I may not be the youngest of your victims, I may not give you the longest time in the torture you gave us, but I intend to fight with everything you have put me through these long years. Your life is mine."

As he growled in my face, a white-hot streak of terror shot through me and I pushed him back with almost reflexive strength. He staggered, rebalanced, then looked at me with cannibalistic hunger in his eyes. He panted twice, then screamed and lunged at my neck. With adrenaline now coursing through me, I turned and sprinted away from the gathering, hearing the pounding of footsteps deep in my brain. He had grabbed my arm. I glanced at it as I reached the sidewalk and saw a chalk white handprint etched into my grayish skin. The urge to vomit came back, but I managed to fight it down as I kept up a faster pace than I'd ever run before. The swarm of my past, tortured selves was hot on my heels, like starved dogs following fresh game. Any loss in my speed and I'd be eaten alive, or worse. I truly did not know what would happen if they caught me, and my mind was too far gone to even entertain the idea of hallucinations any more.

I rounded the next curve and thought the sound of the pack was a little quieter than before. It still sounded like pure rage and bloodlust, but with fewer voices than before. Thinking it was only a few stragglers being blocked by the trees, I kept up the fastest pace I could, not even feeling my feet hit the ground. Another hundred meters of straightaway and it was definitely growing less loud with each step. The roar was diminishing, no trees to hide the sound now, but it was still a roar. By now a cramp had begun to grow in my stomach, and no matter what I did I felt myself losing speed. Every few steps I could burst forward faster again, but I couldn't maintain the same rocket pace as before. To my ears, though, as my speed gradually fell, so did the volume of my pursuers. By the time I got to the intersection, it only sounded like a couple of me were still hunting, and I could count their individual footsteps. It was at this time I chanced a look behind, just to know what was still coming.

Right on my neck was him, the gaslighter. He grinned at me, his face less than a meter away. I felt that same shock explode throughout my body and I shot forward, faster than before if possible, fully terrified again now that I knew he and he alone was here for me. I kept running and running, past houses, lanes, and bushes. Still no signs of life from any houses, no cars rumbling down the road or creaking into place in a driveway. The night was as empty and uncaring as before, and only myself and the predator I had been broke the gentle midnight breeze. My legs thundered on, screaming in pain in their own way, but I didn't stop or look back again until I'd reached my family's old house a few blocks down.

Now truly running on empty, I turned back to face my hunter, but he was gone. Disappeared. Evaporated into the night, nowhere to be seen. The moon still hung high, reflecting some small percentage of sunlight down to me, and the streetlamps bathed the road and yards in amber light. He wasn't hiding from me, he hadn't overtaken me. There was no shortcut to the house, it was a straight shot from the park. He was simply gone, faded back into the night from which he'd come without a trace. If he'd ever really been there at all, and not merely a hallucination from exhaustion or medication or... I didn't even know any more. I just knew that he was gone, just gone, just gone.

"Hey, are you okay?" A voice called out to me. I jumped, but only in surprise. It was a familiar voice, but not familiar like my own. It sounded like my dad, and I heard large, calm footsteps walk toward me from our front door.

"Yeah," I said, although it was little more than a whisper. I buckled over, fell to my hands and knees, and felt the cramps and burning in my lungs catch up to me as the adrenaline faded away. I felt like vomiting, for the third time that night, but this time it was easier to fight the urge than before. I got some deep breaths in as I panted on the ground, slowly but surely recovering from my insane dash moments before.

My dad walked up in front of me, wearing the same well-worn brown leather shoes he'd owned since before I left. I didn't want to worry him about this night, and what I thought I saw in the park. Not when my recovery was going so well. Not when a lapse like this would mean months of work just to get back to where I was only an hour ago. "I'm okay dad, I just went for a walk. Then I saw how late it was and tried to get back as fast as I could. I guess I'm not the athlete I used to be, eh?" I tried to lift my head up to give him a weak smile, but still couldn't raise it much higher than his waist

He chuckled softly, and sounded a little strange. Still sleepy maybe, I guess I woke him up coming back here, and maybe I was screaming too. I don't know any more, I don't know what was real any more. But he knelt down in front of me after I dropped my head again, still exhausted, and said, "That's okay sport, I think we both know your real talents weren't on the field. I learned that lesson very well over the past six years."