#but then afterwards i end up being really confused and disoriented and forgetful

[caffeinatedopossum]

Suddenly realizing I've had seizures before :0 but this was just the first one where someone who knew what it was was there to witness it (my girlfriend)

That's so cool and definitely not terrifying /s

[starshideyourfics]

You Ahh Sooooo Byuootifuh

Hey, you’ve got Robin. Or I guess you don’t, really. If this is important text me, but you can leave a message and I’ll get back to you eventually. Unless you’re my mom, then probably sooner! BEEP.

“Rob-biiiiihhnnn! Where are you? There’s a hah guy shtanding ow-side my room, and I don’ know where I am. I need you here, Robbie. Yuhv gotta hehp me! I’m gonna say somethin’ shtupid and ‘mbarrass mysel’ in front of the hod guy. Robin, come save meeeeeeee!”

“He’s probably going to be a little confused,” the nurse tells Eddie as she hands him all the aftercare instructions and the prescription to take down to the pharmacy for Steve’s after-procedure painkillers. “When we moved him, I don’t think he realized he’d already gone under because he asked if the operation was happening in another room.”

Eddie nods, biting his lip to hold back a laugh as he gives the papers a cursory glance. He peeks into the room and sees Steve holding his phone in front of his face and mumbling, eyes furtively moving back and forth between the screen and the doorway. “But he’s okay otherwise, right? Everything went fine with his teeth?”

The nurse, Kathy—Eddie reads her name on her badge—smiles, shaking out her graying bob. “Yes, all smooth sailing the whole way through. Turns out his upper wisdom teeth were only partially impacted so it was even easier than the doctor anticipated. But he’s still going to be pretty uncomfortable for the next couple days, and he shouldn’t eat anything that makes a sound when he bites into it for about a week.”

“Got it. And thank you, Steve is terrible at being a patient, so I hope he didn’t give you any trouble.”

“He’s been very sweet, if a little loopy. Kept asking if Robin was coming, so I hope you know who that is,” Kathy says, a little conspiratorially at the end as her voice drops low.

“Yeah, she’s his best friend. I think Robin’s seen him sick more often than I have.” Eddie gives a little half shrug and nods towards the door and by extension Steve. “Anything else I should know?”

“I don’t think so. As soon as he’s able to walk out of here he’s ready to go.” She thinks for a second, and pushes her cat-eye glasses up on her head. “He really is just going to be disoriented and probably emotional for about an hour, so be ready for that. And depending on how he’ll take it afterwards, you might want to film him. If only so he can see how he was acting.”

“I’ll take that under advisement. Thanks, Kathy,” he says with a wink, before heading into Steve’s recovery room. Steve will pretend to be annoyed at having any of this filmed but he’ll find it funny after enough time passes, so Eddie keeps his hand hovered over where his phone sits in his pocket. If nothing else, he owes Robin a visual since he’s sure Steve has already sent her some absolutely incoherent texts.

As Eddie enters the room, Steve’s eyes are wide and glued to him, his expression confused and mistrustful, like he doesn’t recognize the man he’s known for years. Hoping it is just Steve forgetting that Robin no longer accompanies him to every appointment in his life, Eddie keeps his voice gentle and asks, “Ready to go home?”

Steve presses his phone against his chest and curls in on himself, still staring Eddie down. His cheeks are swollen, and he can’t quite close his mouth so a bit of drool has escaped from one corner. Still, he manages to ask, “Where’s Robin?”

“At work, like you would be if you didn’t need minor surgery. Do you remember me bringing you to your appointment this morning?” Eddie is a little worried at just how confused Steve is. He sets the aftercare papers on the chair by the door, no longer thinking this will be a quick process. Maybe he should have asked Kathy if Steve’s history of concussions might be making this worse…

“So, you’re one of Robin’s friends?” Steve asks, sounding slightly less apprehensive.

Eddie can’t help shooting Steve a confused look of his own, blinking a few times and holding his tongue between his lips. How does he even respond to that? He decides for a moment to play along, “Yeah, I’m one of Robin’s friends.” Not even a lie; he and Robin have been friends for years, and not solely because of their connection to Steve. He also very slowly retrieves his phone from his pocket and opens the camera, hitting record.

Knowing Robin is clearly good enough for Steve since he relaxes, and closes his eyes. “Okay, but you’re sooooo pretty. Robin knows better than to bring her pretty friends around. She knows!”

Eddie bites back a chuckle. “Aww, you think I’m pretty Steve?”

Steve throws an arm across his eyes, blushing furiously. “You weren’t supposed to hear that. That wasn’t supposed to be out loud!” Steve moans, “You’re the most beautiful man I’ve ever seen, and I’m this!” He gestures to his cheeks, bruises already forming. “How am I supposed to talk to you ever again after this!”

Eddie laughs, floored that Steve both has no idea who he is talking to and that he’s so upset over not being in peak condition to hit on him. “Steve, baby, we’re married,” he soothes. “You already locked this down,” he adds with a gesture to himself, leather jacket over Zeppelin shirt down to his ripped black jeans.

Eyes bugging out, Steve struggles to push himself into a sitting position. Swinging his legs over so his stockinged feet can touch the floor, he leans forward just a bit. His mouth hangs open even more, and Eddie can finally see that it isn’t all swelling in his cheeks, his mouth is still stuffed with bloody gauze. “No way,” Steve says, very pointedly looking up and down the length of Eddie’s body.

Holding up his left hand, Eddie wiggles his ring finger, drawing attention to the gold band there, the way it stands out from the bulky silver rings he’s worn since high school. “I promise, we are.” This makes Steve lift his own left hand, and he marvels at the matching gold band on his own finger. “Do you want me to call Robin? Or Dustin? They both were at the wedding,” Eddie offers, wanting to reassure Steve as much as possible until his own memories come back. If they come back…

Eddie’s never heard of anyone suffering from permanent memory loss after anesthesia, but at least loopy Steve is still very into him. Taking a couple steps closer, he holds his hand out to Steve. “Think you can stand up, Sweetheart? I don’t know how long the Novocaine is supposed to last, and I can’t give you painkillers if we don’t have them. Your nurse said you were fine to leave once you can get up and walk, so how about it?”

Tentatively, Steve takes Eddie’s offered hand. Instead of holding it, he examines the fingers, pressing their palms flat together, running the pads of his fingertips along the callouses on Eddie’s. His face screws up in concentration before saying, “You play guitar.” It isn’t a question and the surety of the statement sends a rush of relief through Eddie’s entire body. He stops recording on his phone and slips it into his pocket. This is more than enough evidence of Steve being completely out of it.

“I do. In a band.”

Steve nods, then looks down and wriggles his toes. “Do you have my shoes?”

Eddie points to where they are sitting under the recovery bed. “Do you want help getting them on?” Steve nods again, and Eddie drops to his knees, untying the shoelaces and pulling the tongues forward. He holds one after the other for Steve to slide his foot inside, setting each on his own thigh to tie the laces before placing his husband’s shod feet on the floor. He gets back up to his feet and sticks his hand back out to Steve. “Ready to go?”

“M'thirsty,” Steve groans, taking Eddie’s hand and pulling himself up. He wobbles on unstable legs, but Eddie instinctively grabs Steve around the waist to steady him. This makes it very easy for Steve to turn into Eddie’s chest, leaning their heads together. “My mouth feels weird,” he mumbles.

“That’s because you had your wisdom teeth cut out of your jaw. It’s honestly a miracle you made it this long without getting them removed.” Eddie brings a hand up to stroke over Steve’s cheek. “We’ll check with Kathy about how long you should keep the gauze in, but I’m sure it can’t be too long.”

“Who’s Kathy?” Steve clutches at Eddie’s shirt. “Eds, am I supposed to know who Kathy is?”

“She’s your nurse,” Eddie says with a smile. “I’m just glad you remember my name now,” he adds before pressing a kiss to the side of Steve’s head.

Steve preens at the kiss, as much as he can when he feels terrible and can’t close his mouth all the way. He wraps his arms around Eddie’s chest, stalling out their progress at leaving the recovery room, but Eddie is just glad he’s cuddly and needy instead of completely disoriented. Eddie rubs soothing circles on Steve’s back, letting his husband sag against him for a long moment. Then he whispers, “Ready to try walking again?”

“Okay,” Steve answers in a whisper.

Steve lets Eddie manhandle him around until he has an arm around Eddie’s shoulders, while Eddie’s arm is snaked around his waist. Eddie picks up Steve’s aftercare instructions, and leads him out the door. He spots Kathy at the nurse’s station and waves her over.

“I’m sure it’s in here somewhere,” Eddie starts, holding up the papers, “but how long should Steve keep the gauze in his mouth?”

“Oh, crap!” Kathy exclaims, pulling down her glasses and settling them on the bridge of her nose. “He should already have it out. We like to make sure everything has clotted properly before sending you on your way, and the gauze could dislodge the clots and start you bleeding all over again.” She’s fully focused on Steve as she says it, taking his hand and leading him over to the nurse’s station, Steve still firmly attached to Eddie as they walk.

Kathy grabs a pair of gloves and pulls them on, then gently guides Steve to open his mouth. She peers inside, reaching in without further preamble and delicately pulls out the wads of gauze from each side of his mouth, the white cotton stained red and pink. Holding them in a gloved fist, she pulls off the glove, turning it inside out and trapping it, before transferring the whole thing to her other hand and repeating the process. She tosses all of it into a red biohazard bin, and looks into Steve’s mouth one last time. “Do you taste blood, Steve?”

“No,” he says with a shake of his head and slow swipe of his tongue around his mouth. He keeps moving his tongue, sticky from dehydration, like a dog licking at peanut butter. “Am I allowed to drink anything yet?”

“Of course!” Kathy goes to get him a cup of water. “No straws for the next few days, and nothing too hot, but you can drink as much as you need.”

Steve downs the water and thanks Kathy. Eddie does as well, and with a wave he steers Steve to the elevators. They make it down to the pharmacy where Eddie gets the prescription filled, leaving Steve to sit on one of the waiting room chairs, and coming back to him with a bottle of Vicodin, an antibacterial mouth rinse, and a special hooked syringe for irrigating the stitched sockets in the back of Steve’s jaw.

Getting Steve into the car takes a minute since he keeps trying to step in with the wrong foot first, and Eddie finally folds him into the seat and moves his legs into the footwell after. Steve manages to buckle his own seatbelt and holds onto all of his papers and the bag with his prescriptions, but on the drive home he panics and starts crying over how numb his tongue still feels. “What if I swallow it?” he wails. “I can’t feel it, how am I supposed to keep it in my mouth?”

“You aren’t going to swallow your tongue,” Eddie says, trying to be as reassuring as possible while also driving safely. “Take deep breaths, baby. You are going to be just fine. I’m not going to let anything happen to you. I promise.”

By the time Eddie pulls into their driveway, Steve has calmed down. He’s still loose-limbed and loopy, but more coordinated than before, and he walks inside the house entirely under his own power. He even takes off his own shoes, untying the laces and leaning hard against the wall as he toes out of them. Eddie follows behind Steve as they go upstairs, ready to catch him if he loses his balance, but he makes it to the top of the staircase just fine.

Eddie helps Steve change into his pajamas. “Okay, I’m giving you a pre-emptive painkiller, and then you are taking a nap. Hopefully you can sleep off the rest of the anesthesia and you’ll feel more like yourself when you wake up.” He sits Steve on the side of their bed, and goes to get water from the bathroom, leaving all of Steve’s aftercare stuff in there after shaking a single pill out of the little amber bottle.

Steve takes the Vicodin and drinks all of the water, asking Eddie for a refill right away. Of course he’s still thirsty, he wasn’t supposed to drink anything in the hours before his surgery in addition to not having food since the night before. Eddie brings him more water, and that gets drained, too, which turns into one more trip to the bathroom so Steve can have the cup waiting on the nightstand for when he wakes up.

Sliding under the covers, Steve reaches out and grabs Eddie’s shirt. “Stay,” he whines, “please, Eddie. Need you here.”

Eddie acquiesces, still in his jeans and t-shirt, as he gets in on his own side of the bed. He spoons up behind Steve, hand resting low on his husband’s abdomen. Steve scoots back, pressing his body tight to Eddie’s, and raising a hand to run through his curls. Kissing the side of Steve's head, Eddie smiles and asks, “So, am I still the most beautiful man you’ve ever seen?” barely teasing. The actual teasing will come later, most likely courtesy of Robin when he shows her the video from the hospital.

“Yes,” Steve answers, completely earnest. “You’re beautiful and pretty, and so fucking hot. I love you, Eds.”

“Love you too, Stevie.”

Then Steve grinds his ass back into Eddie’s crotch. “Want you, baby,” he says, with a breathy little moan, “Wanna make a baby with you.”

Groaning, Eddie cants his hips away from Steve, hand going to hold his husband’s hips in place so he can’t chase after him. He was not expecting horny Steve to show up this soon post-surgery. “Steve, we can’t have sex, not right now. You aren’t supposed to do any vigorous activity for forty-eight hours.”

Steve sighs, and even without being able to see his face, Eddie knows he’s pouting. “That’s dumb,” Steve says. “Besides, it doesn’t have to be vigorous activity. I just wanna make a baby with you. Make a pretty baby with my pretty husband.”

“How about we take a nap now, and when you’re not coming down from honestly a pretty powerful high, we can talk about all the baby-making you want to do?” Eddie asks, his own eyes closed. He and Steve have talked about kids in the past, decided that they’re happy waiting with how many teenagers they halfway raised already. But this doesn’t feel the same as the dirty talk and kinks Steve leans into when they have sex. This sounds like Steve wanting something impossible on top of wanting a baby.

Steve doesn’t answer, just takes Eddie’s hand off his hip, and returns it to rest over his belly. He leans back, entwining their legs together, and hums. Steve’s breathing slows, evening out, and then Eddie hears Steve whisper, “Beautiful. Beautiful Eddie.” as he falls asleep.

Steve and Eddie both wake up to voicemails from Robin, absolutely cackling over all of Steve’s messages, and promising to swing by later with ice cream.

Blushing as Eddie kisses his neck from behind, arms wrapped around him, Steve asks, “Can we put off any further baby discussion until tomorrow? Or forever?”

Eddie laughs. “Tomorrow. I can even promise that I won’t tell Robin about that part.”

Turning in Eddie’s arms, Steve looks like he swallowed a bug, only just realizing how much he already shared with Robin while he was high from the anesthesia. “Fuck,” he mutters, burying his face in Eddie’s shoulder. “This is going to be a long night.”

Also on ao3!

[veebs-hates-video-games]

I swear I still play things that aren't Fire Emblem, and to prove it I'm going to talk about something else entirely.

Before I Forget is the best thing I've played so far this year.

I'm nowhere near the age demographic to be affected by something like Alzheimer's yet, and even my parents are still doing great and fully lucid, but I still found this kind of relatable in some ways. I've had my own memory problems on and off over the years, between ADHD/depression, more than one notable head injury as a kid/teen, and more seizures than I can count (which have thankfully been mostly under control for the past several years).

I can very much understand forgetting major life events, like there are some things I only know happened because other people were there to tell me about it afterward, or even being confused and disoriented and not really sure what's going on, both immediately after the head injuries or during/after seizures. I've "woken up" to discover I was on the subway and not even known what city I was in for a few minutes, before finally realizing what happened and realizing that somehow while I was awake but not really conscious I put myself on the correct train towards home. Really glad that my natural instinct is to do that, because I had a friend who'd get on buses in the opposite direction instead.

So even though my own experiences have been a lot milder and shorter duration and relatively infrequent, I really appreciate that they managed to tell the kind of story they did while focusing on the character's life and experiences instead of what's "wrong" with her, and that it captured some of the feelings that go along with that. Even though I could tell how it was going to end relatively early on I still enjoyed seeing it play out from her perspective. Or maybe "enjoyed" isn't quite the right word, but you get what I mean. Also realizing that she's probably gone through that entire sequence multiple times before and will again repeatedly is 😕

I could already see this one potentially ending up near the top of my list at the end of the year, and January isn't even over yet. I look forward to hopefully finding more stuff that's just as good or better in the rest of 2024 though.

[simpingforcreamsoda]

The Marvels: Review (non spoiler)

Cons:

Final battle is too short and not fully satisfying, especially with the potential for action. While I think the resolution puts everyone where they need to be, the last action stretch of the movie really lacks in the energy that made it work in previous moments. That being said, it gets points for not taking a way out that would have been pretty lame. Still, I would have taken more time to ramp up the final fight for maximum swappage stuff. This is probably the biggest flaw, and definitely prevents it from being as good as it could have been. If someone had this as a reason why they hated the movie, I’d honestly say it’s a very valid complaint.

Villain was on the weaker side of the spectrum. She has a good concept and serves her narrative purpose, but could have been a lot more in her execution. She didn’t really feel intimidating herself, and relied on the big consequences of her actions more than she should have. A little too little for what was actually a very good blueprint for Captain Marvel’s second villain.

Sometimes the action was a little hard to follow. It’s still a fun concept and it’s intentionally a bit disorienting, but it can still be a little tricky nonetheless.

Monica’s powers are honestly pretty underwhelming compared to the other too and look more awkward when she needs to do higher action like flying. In general her character feels like the weak link writing wise. The exception is that one phase kick thing in the first fight. That ruled.

End of the first act has a cameo in it that’s really brief and confusing. It leaves me with more questions than answers, and is really just the epitome of “refuses to elaborate). I would have absolutely either cut this or extended it to properly explain it.

Pros:

Very very very funny. There were so many little bits that had me cracking up, some of which I will elaborate on in their own bullet points. I feel like this movie gets closer to the feeling that Love and Thunder was trying to be, and works much better as a more comedic entry. Sure, not all of it is funny (they never say it but they pull a “English please” bit a few times and can movies stop this forever please), and this point might not mean much if you don’t find it funny, but I’m still snickering a bit as I write this. Maybe I just have broken taste, in which case I’m sorry.

Kamala’s family!!!! Love them!!!! They are great in every scene they’re in, and the movie makes sure to keep them hovering close to the plot so it can use them often.

Nick Fury was good and made me forget that Secret Invasion ever existed, even if just for an hour and 45 minutes.

Bonus points again for just pretending Secret Invasion never happened. It chooses to reference a much better Disney+ show instead.

I was dreading the singing planet sequence because I heard reception was mixed, but I’m here for it. Was a really silly parody of Disney Princesses and I love that they went for something like this.

There is a sequence near the start of the third act that is legitimately one of my favorites in the whole MCU. It’s the culmination of a B-plot about some weird egg-looking things and its execution is phenomenal.

The chemistry between the three leads is great! Iman’s performance as Kamala obv steals the show but there’s a much wider acting range from Brie than in the first film (and even there, she wasn’t nearly as rigid as people pretended she was). I was really endeared to her character in a way I admittedly was not very attached to before now.

The way they recap each character at the start was pretty good, Kamala’s was a fantastic introduction to her for those who didn’t see her show. It takes on a unique style of presentation and immediately shows her whole deal.

Although the final battle is really weak and underwhelming, the resolutions afterward feel pretty natural. Kamala’s especially was really really entertaining and I’m ashamed to admit if I was alone and not in a crowded theater I probably would have wojack pointed

The credits scene was definitely pretty cool. It was a good way to drive things forward while not pushing the movie’s natural story out of its bounds. It’s been leaked to hell and back but it was still exciting.

They play a Skrillex song if that means anything.

Score: I don’t have a scoring rubric. It was a movie that I liked a lot and would recommend you to watch if you’re vaguely interested. If not in theaters (which I would recommend since some scenes look very pretty and/or imposingly intense on a big screen, at least on Disney+ when it comes out (hopefully soon after it leaves theaters, it’s so annoying when things take forever to get there). I think it was a good execution at tying together the loose foundations that have been set up in Phase 4, and I think there need to be way more minor team up movies in the future. It’s time to start reigning stuff into focus, and this is a good first step.

tldr: silly and I liked it a ton. Will probably do a third part to this talking about how people have been discussing the movie and why I think it’s overwhelmingly in bad faith.

The Marvels (pre-review thoughts)

Ok, so… Friday, amiright? The Marvels, a sequel to Captain Marvel is gonna release. And being real? I think it looks super fun. I wasn’t a fan of the first, but dammit I’m hyped. The tone seems lighthearted enough to nail the comedy aspect, the length is short and comfy, I love Iman to death she is the perfect Ms. Marvel, I think the character dynamics seem interesting, and the action gimmick looks especially entertaining. I’m expecting this to be a pretty decent MCU entry.

But it doesn’t matter how good it is. It’s going to bomb anyways. Horrendously so. It’s predicted to be lower than The Flash.

and that kind of pisses me off.

Nothing against you if you just aren’t interested. That’s completely valid. But let’s not pretend like that’s the only reason this will likely bomb so horribly.

Am I going to blame sexism? Yeah, sue me. It’s not the majority reason, sure, but it’s almost certainly a contributing factor.

I mean it, people have been spouting the same “ugh I’m so tiiiiired of these” for the past like five movies, but the reception for The Marvels is… different. People are absolutely BLOODTHIRSTY for this movie to fail, in a way completely unseen in Thor, Ant-Man, Guardians, etc. These people aren’t apathetic, they actively receive joy at the thought of The Marvels failing. And no, I don’t think it’s a coincidence that it’s happening to a movie with three female leads, two of which being non-white. I don’t think there would be a reaction nearly on this level even if Taika came back for a Thor 5.

Maybe the movie will suck. It’s always a possibility.

But I’ve fallen seriously out of love with mcu discourse. The absolute vitriol these men have for Brie Larson, through all these years… it’s pathetic. It’s absolutely pathetic.

Higher further faster baby.

[yes-i-am-a-tree]

Heavy Heavy Rain (Sang-woo x Reader)

Sang-woo x reader story (Squid game)

Summary: You find Sang-woo after he had a rough morning and attempt to comfort him

Warnings: none :)

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Today was just not his day. He thought of himself fairly smart, at least smarter than most people, but right now he felt like the dumbest person in the world. 

His morning was the start of the bad luck. He woke up to his neighbors loud music at 7 am. Not only that but he was so tired he left the house with nothing to shield his face and not two minutes down the block he spotted a police officer and, just his luck, It was one of his pursuers asking around if they saw him. 

Afterward he completely booked it from his apartment complex and went at least 10 blocks before he found some rest in the park of the city, trying to escape from the police in case they had seen him. 

And just as he thought things could still go as planned it started to rain. Not rain, no, it started to pour, heavy, heavy drops of water that blasted against any metal surface. And it was especially loud when he took shelter at the local store not far from the park. 

He stayed inside a while just browsing the isles for warmth before ultimately deciding he needed a smoke before then realizing... he had also forgotten his wallet. 

He was so stressed at the moment and kept thinking to himself about how irresponsible he was acting. He never NEVER forgets. Well, very occasionally but it was only if he wasn’t in the right mind. And right now, certainly, he wasn’t in the right mind. 

He was so caught up in his pessimistic thoughts that he didn’t notice his fists clench hard enough you would see his veins, but he most certainly didn’t notice you approach behind him either. 

“Hey” 

At that his head snapped up and focused on your figure. 

“Hey, you alright man?”

When he didn’t answer right away you may or may not have silently panicked. “What if he's creeped out? What if he really just needed space?”

But little did you know he was just confused, and maybe a little disoriented. 

“Ye...yeah, just tired. Had a rough morning” he said nonchalantly, as if he wasn’t avoiding the police. And at the end of his sentence he finally looked into your eyes.

“Hey, I know you” You abruptly stated.

“Y-you do?”

“Yeah, we went to high school together, I remember sitting behind you in Geometry and in Korean History”

At that he paused and deliberated between his memories of high school. It had been so long, he really didn’t remember anyone, let alone someone who sat behind him. 

After he decided he had no memories of high school he focused again on you. His demeanor a lot more enthusiastic and relaxed than when he came in stressed and upset at himself. 

“I'm afraid I don’t remember much back then… What's your name?”

you told him your name, and he proceeded to say it a few times as if rolling it across his tongue would arouse locked memories. 

“Sorry, i've got nothing”

“Figures, you were quite the ladies man, you probably had to learn a lot of names” you said teasingly.

he let out a stiff but gruff chuckle. 

Hoping that you didn’t make him uncomfortable or remind him of bad memories you quickly directed his attention. 

“Hey, you wanna take a smoke? I think the rains’ settled down”

He looked outside. You were right. There really wasn’t anymore rain. Just puddles across the sidewalk and in the street. 

“Sure”

You both proceeded to exit the store and stood some to the far left, where there was some shrubbery that shielded your view from the street, and the wall behind you shielded you from the inside of the store. 

You leaned against the wall and supported yourself as you reached into your pack for a pair of sticks.

You handed him one and slipped the other between your lips and swiftly took your lighter out and lit your cig. 

He watched you from a few feet away as you let out a puff of grey air. He didn’t know it before but you held an attractive quality to him. Maybe it was the way you carried yourself, our attitude and kind nature to look out for others. Or it might have just been his overwhelming gratitude for you to show up and calm him down. 

As your hand went down he went to reach for the lighter but before he could even move you held it just before the cig between his lips. 

He hesitated but ultimately understood and helped steady the stick to light it. 

After both cigarettes were lit, you just as easily slid the lighter back into your pocket and leaned more against the wall.  

Then you both settled and stood for a while, and he went back to admiring you. Maybe you were just his age. Where did you work? How did you remember him?

“Penny for your thoughts?” you inquired, in search of conversation.

He hesitated. “I’m just wondering how you recognized me”

“Oh” you chuckled. “It was easy, your eyes. You constantly look tired. Like you’re carrying the weight of the world or something. In fact, you look even worse than how you were back then, anything I can do to help?”

He didn't expect you to be so forward. How come he never noticed you back then?

“N-no, it’s… it’s fine, just had a rough morning…”

You could tell that wasn’t completely the truth but you didn't want to inquire or seem annoying.

“Hey uh, how far do you live from here?” You asked again, hoping to eliminate the silence. 

he looked at you suspiciously. 

“Oh- wait” you fumbled, noticing his expression, “I was just asking because of the rain, that’s all. I don’t want you to have to walk in wet clothes, you could catch something.” 

At that he could agree, his clothes were still a bit soaked from when he got caught in the rain earlier, and they were indeed sticking to him. 

“My house is very close, do you wanna stop by?, it wouldn’t be any trouble” you offered.

It didn’t take him too long to decide. Going back to his apartment wasn’t an option, and where else would he go? 

“Yeah, that would be great.”

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Honestly, I don’t think Sang-woo is a completely bad person, he was just put under too much stress. I think if the game never happened he would continue being a good person. 

If you want to correct me, or give me constructive criticism don’t hesitate! just please no hate! (it is my first time lol)

[plsimsuchasimp]

cheating pt. 2

part 1 here

Ft: Suna Rintarou x !gn reader, a little bit of atsumu miya x !gn reader

Genre/warnings: hurt/comfort, brief mention of fighting, panic attack, angst to fluff

Wc: 2.6k

NOT PROOFREAD!

The morning after you broke up with Suna, you wake up with a sour taste in your mouth, hugging a pillow. Momentarily disoriented, you look around your room until you spot your phone, and it all comes crashing down.

Oh no. Your chest tightens when you see 41 missed calls from Suna and 118 unread text messages over the course of the night. You'd fallen asleep with your phone set to silent, crying into your pillow at the immense betrayal.

Slowly, you unlock your phone to see increasingly frantic messages from Suna, begging you to forgive him and take him back. Ten new voicemails. You shouldn't press it, shouldn't listen to his voice. But you do.

"Y/N," immediately, your heart cracks at the sound of his voice. He sounds so desperate, so frantic, tears clinging to the words. "I'm so, so, sorry. You have every right to be mad at me, every right to hate me. I hate myself too, and I'll never forgive myself for doing that. I-I just wanted you to know that I-" the recording becomes quieter, only the faint sniffles picked up on it. "I love you."

It ends there, and you freeze. He'd never told you he loved you before, skipping over it whenever you jokingly mentioned the future. You knew he was scared of commitment, but it still hurt whenever he ignored it. A particular memory from two weeks ago floods your mind, no matter how hard you try to push it away.

You were lying on Suna's bed, resting your head against his chest as he scrolled through the videos he wanted to upload to Worldstar. His arm was slung around you, his lips pulled up in a smirk, his green eyes flicking from the phone to you and back again. It was comfortable, a lazy Sunday with the sun just beginning to set behind his curtains. You nestled further into his chest, his heartbeat regular and reassuring. You let your eyes drift closed, basking in the warmth of his affection.

Almost too soft for him to hear, half hoping he wasn't listening, you whisper "I love you." He stiffens, and you know you messed up. His heart skips a beat, and he pretends like he didn't hear you. You swallow, embarrassed that he didn't say it back, but neither of you moves until Suna gets up, saying he has to use the restroom. He doesn't come back for a while, and when he does, he mutters something about it getting late (it was barely 6 pm) and how he'd forgotten that he had to do something today. Taking the cue, you took your stuff and left, silently cursing yourself for saying it before he was ready. Things had been awkward the next few days, with him responding less and less frequently and seeming more distant and cold.

Come to think of it, it was right before he started acting strange.

oh.

Pressing a shaking hand to your mouth, you squeezed your eyes shut. Was that why?

Before you could sink deeper into your thoughts, you heard a knock at the door of your bedroom. The door opens to reveal Atsumu, standing awkwardly in your door frame. Yelping, you bring the bedcovers up to cover yourself, forgetting that you’re still wearing your clothes from last night. “How did you get in here?!”

He blushes, eyes flickering around your room and refusing to land on you. “Yer mom told me where the spare key was.”

You sighed, and he came over and sat on your bed, looking at his feet placed on the floor. “Ya okay?” he asked, voice low. That wasn’t what you’d expected. It was rare for Atsumu to be serious, rare for his brow to be furrowed so severely.

“Well, that’s debatable,” you said, scoffing a little. He nodded, eyes still fixed on the floor.

“I saw Suna last night,” he blurted out.

“You did?” Your eyebrows lift, surprised at his uncharacteristic behavior.

“I punched him,” he admits, lifting his head. “I was just too angry at him for hurting ya.”

Then it was your turn to look at the floor, not responding to this statement. What were you supposed to say, anyway? You sit in awkward silence, waiting for Atsumu to gather his thoughts and speak again.

“He’s in love with ya, ya know,” he says quietly. “That’s why it doesn’t make sense.”

“Why would he cheat on me if he loves me?” you ask, lip quivering slightly. You noticed the tense of the word; is. Not was. He sighs in frustration, shoulders slumping.

“I don’t know.” Seemingly debating on whether to say something, he decided to anyways, “He just let me hit him.”

“What?”

“He just stood there when I punched him, didn’t even punch back or anything. He just looked so sad, ya know?”

“Sad?” you scoff. “He was the one who decided to do it.” He nodded, knowing you’re right.

“I don’t really know why I came here,” he admitted. “I just wanted to make sure you were doing okay. Aren’t ya missing class right now?”

“I’m not going today,” you mutter. He understood. Silently, he got up and left the room, and you heard the door shut short afterward, leaving you alone with your thoughts.

It wasn’t raining anymore, but the clouds still clung dark and heavy, low to the mountains and shrouding the distant buildings. Puddles shone on the ground, the leaves outside your window glistening with raindrops.

It hurt. It hurt so badly, the confusion and anger and sadness all combined. The truth was, you still loved Suna, and apparently, he loved you. Falling back onto your pillow, you felt like crying, but the tears wouldn’t come. Your eyes were dry, the pain finally internalized. The good memories of your time with Suna came then, flooding your mind and squeezing your heart.

The first time you two kissed, in a parking lot of a 7/11  at two in the morning. His lips tasted like soda, the sweet fizz almost intoxicating. It was a quick kiss, feeling him smile against your lips and seeing the smirk on his face when he pulled away.

Watching the stars together from the roof of a building on a moonless night, offering you his jacket when he noticed you were cold. You fell asleep in his arms that night, the cool winter air brushing your cheeks and inciting him to hold you just a little bit closer.

The playful insults exchanged, the banter slowly turning into backhanded compliments, and then sweet nothings whispered in your ear.

The warm, enveloping hugs, although somewhat rare- he would hold you, one arm on the small of your back and the other caressing the back of your neck.

The skeptical look on his face when you took him to the grocery store, fully intending to make a new dish you’d seen on TV with him. Not noticing the softness in his eyes as he watched you, your excitement contagious in his smile.

The teasing he endured because of you. The day you walked into the gym, bringing him a homemade bento, the boys had teased him relentlessly. He didn’t mind, because it made you happy.

All of that was gone now, and the miserable aching in your heart was a constant reminder of it. You let sleep take you away again, the pain in your expression being smoothed away by the gentle lull. When Suna slipped into your room using the same key Atsumu had failed to properly hide, he saw you curled up, hugging a pillow in your sleep, a small crease marking your forehead. He always said you looked angelic in your sleep.

“Suna…” you murmured, shifting slightly, and his eyes grew sad at how you grimaced slightly at his name.

He made his way to your desk chair, sitting down silently and grabbing a piece of paper from the desk along with a pencil, beginning to write.

When you awoke to the sound of a pencil scratching paper, it took you a second to register that there was someone else in your room. You screamed, clutching your pillow until you recognized Suna.

His eyes found yours, and the guilt and shame in them were almost overwhelming. You looked away, clenching your jaw. The pencil fell from his hand, seeming to fall in slow motion until it hit and bounced off of the floor, clattering once, twice, and then three times before rolling away from his foot.

“Get out,” you whisper.

“Can we just talk about this-” he rushes, standing up and impulsively moving closer to you.

“I said get out!” You yell, flinching away from his touch as if it’s some sort of deadly disease. His face falls, and he withdraws his hand, swallowing hard. “What is there to talk about? You cheated. It’s not a mistake. It’s a choice, and you chose to break my heart!” You look at him, anger and pain mixing in your eyes, and he finally gets it. You’re not coming back. He ruined it with an impulse decision, a reckless choice in the face of his fear of commitment and the overwhelming feelings that he didn’t know how to deal with.

The day you told him you loved him, he froze only because he didn’t know what to do. He’d gotten up, gone to the bathroom, and sunk down the door, back straight and head tilted towards his knees. This had never happened to him before- every time he’d been with a girl, he’d never felt like this. Was it love? He already knew he messed up by not saying it back, but his emotions were confusing, distracting, almost frightening. He’s taken his mind off of it by falling into a stranger’s arms that night, reassuring himself that he was still the same old Suna, the one who didn’t need anyone.

God, how he hated himself for that. Tears welled up in his eyes against his will, and he stared down at the floor.

“Why are you still here?” You spoke, back turned to him, “I thought I told you I didn’t want to talk to you.” Your words stung, you knew they did, but you didn’t really care. The paper in his hand fluttered to the floor, almost inaudibly brushing across the wood. His bottom lip quivered, and the tear that clung to his eyelash slipped silently down his face, making his green eyes appear even brighter than normal.

Thunder crashed outside your window, and Suna froze, his sharp intake of breath making you turn. He looked petrified- his entire body seemed to be shrinking into itself, his hands trembling and clenched, his eyes wide with unmistakable fear in them.

“Suna?” You got up from your place on the bed, curious as to what was happening, then remembered. Suna had a crippling fear of thunderstorms. “Suna. Suna, hey, look at me.” You waved a hand in front of his face, but he just started shaking harder, his breathing getting faster. Gripping him by the shoulders, you gently pushed him towards your bed and helped him sit down, your brow furrowing. “Can I touch you?” you asked gently, receiving the smallest of nods in return. You sat beside him and started rubbing his back, gently holding him closer to you. Thunder triggering a panic attack had only happened twice before, but you were familiar with how to help him through it. “I’m going to go close the curtains now.” Almost methodically talking him through your movements in an attempt to distract him from the thunder growing louder outside, you went to close the curtains and turned on your bedside lamp. “Tell me how I can help.”

He struggled to speak, his breath turning into short hyperventilations until you sat down next to him and started breathing loudly and evenly, hoping he would hear you and try to match his breathing. To your surprise, he turned to you and hugged you, burying his face in your chest and huddling close to your body. Stiff at first, you slowly wrapped your arms around him and rocked back and forth, whispering into his ear that it was almost over and he would get through it. You could feel his back shuddering, trying to maintain control of his breathing and failing. Out of instinct, you rested your cheek on his shoulder, staring at the picture of you two that still rested on your nightstand, and you felt his breathing gradually slow. Soon, he stopped shaking, but he still clung to you as if you were his life raft in a tumultuous storm.

It wasn’t until you felt wetness on your shirt that you pulled back, concerned, only to see tears dripping down Suna’s face. He instantly missed your warmth, your smell, the feeling of you holding him, but he knew it would be selfish of him to try to pull you back in.

You didn’t speak, eyes flickering from him down to the blanket underneath you. Your anger was gone now, and as hard as you tried to hate him, looking at the vulnerability displayed on his face melted the resolve you had.

“You look terrible,” you say, eyes wandering over his disheveled hair and puffy eyes.

“I didn’t sleep last night,” he responds, and you instantly feel awkward.

“I-I’m sorry,” you mumble, unsure of what to say. He just shrugs, gazing downwards.

“About what I said in the voicemail.” At these words, you freeze. “I meant it, and I’m so sorry for not saying it earlier.”

You turn away from him, eyes burning, as you feel a lump in your throat. “If you love me, why did you do it?”

His words die in his throat because that’s what he’s been wondering this whole time. If he loved you, why did he do it? “I-I did it because I was scared.”

“Scared?” you spit, pain lacing your words, “Scared? Do you know how terrified I was to tell you? I know that you’re scared of commitment, I know that it’s hard for you to express your feelings, but do you have any idea how many hours I spent wondering if you even liked me anymore? If you even cared at all?” Hot tears spill down your face, your lips quivering as you tip your head back and stare at the ceiling. Quieter, you say, “Do you know how many times I cried myself to sleep because of you? No, you don’t. But I still believed in us, I really thought it could work, and you threw it all away because you were scared?”

You shook your head, and he stared at you, hating that he made you feel like this. “I had no idea,” he rasps, voice husky from the breath caught in his throat. “When you told me you loved me, I realized I loved you too. I’d never felt like that before, and I was scared of my own feelings, so I wanted-” He stopped, unsure of how to continue. “I needed to distract myself.”

Each word stings, a knife stabbing into your back, as the tears fall harder and faster. You look up at him and see there are tears streaming down his face too, the shame too much for him to bear.

“I would do anything for you to come back.” His voice breaks, becoming breathier as his shoulders begin to shake again. “Please.”

In one swift movement, you pulled him close to you, and it was your turn to huddle into his chest as you sobbed. Just for a second, just for a moment, just to feel his touch again, but he wrapped his arms around you tightly and didn’t let you go. Clinging to each other, you shared the pain.

“If we can move past this,” you mumbled, face pressed against his shirt, breathing in his scent, “you can’t ever do something like that again.”

“No, no, of course not,” he assured you, voice thick with emotion, “I promise I’ll be so much better. I’ll try to give you everything you deserve.” 

He pulls away and looks at you, drinking in your face, before pressing a soft, hesitant kiss to your lips. When you reciprocate, he kisses you harder, with more passion, holding you as if he can’t let you go. “Thank you,” he mumbles against your lips, and you feel the pain and anger and worry seep out of him.

It was going to be okay. a/n: i’m not really sure about this one, but i hope you guys enjoyed! sorry for the major angst, lmao also tiny reminder my requests are open even tho i kinda suck at them

[moonlit-imagines]

Headcanons for Dating Bucky Barnes

Bucky Barnes x reader

warnings:

a/n:

prompt: anonymous: “Headcanons for dating Bucky Barnes?”

you met bucky in 2014

at the smithsonian museum, actually

you stood beside him while reading the plaques of information

“so this is how it all started?”

*confused and disoriented bucky* “huh?”

“superheroes. well, ‘enhanced individuals,’ i guess. but each of the commandos were heroes on their own...”

that comment made bucky smile, he needed to hear that

you two wandered around the exhibit for a while, crossing paths a few more times

as you left, he opened the door for you and you got a peek of his face in brighter light, it looked familiar

“no way”

“i hope you’re not scared...”

“you don’t seem that threatening to me”

oddly enough, the two of you clicked

bucky was on the run, he told you at up front

but he stuck around for a few days, being so honest you would have thought he was on his death bed

his stories, at least the ones he remembered, they were upsetting to the both of you, but you could tell that wasnt him anymore

there wasn’t much for you in washington, anyways

so you ran with him, something he didn’t understand at first

“what do you see in me?”

“a man who deserves another chance”

you always knew how to cheer him up

even on the most challenging days

you and bucky travelled the world before finding a place bucky was comfortable living in

but your journey was a learning experience

bucky grew to trust you with every passing day

there were a handful of motel stays, some worse than others

“oh, god, there’s a rat in the shower!”

“i’ll handle it”

“‘handle it????????’”

you didn’t want to know anymore

you just hid underneath your pillow and waited to be able to shower

bucky was always the big spoon

he just wanted to keep you safe

that worried him the most

he thought he’d get you into some kind of mess

you cant count the amout of times he’d apologize and try to tell you that you shouldn’t be with him

and every time, you’d set your hands on his face, tracing his stubble with your thumbs and say:

“i chose to be with you, and i’m choosing to stay with you”

his metal arm was very intriguing to you

at first, you were worried he was sensitive about it, but one day he was shirtless on the bed and turned to you

“are you scared of me?”

“why would i be scared of you?”

“...does my arm make you uncomfortable?”

“uh, no. not at all...i just didn’t know if you would be upset about talking about it”

he just shook his head with his eyebrows raised high, guess it wasn’t off limits like you thought

you didn’t like the design, though

“i should paint over that star”

“go for it”

you also helped him clean it every once in a while

bucky runs his fingers through your hair and scratches you head with his real arm, you love it

and he loves how relaxed you get

in fact, you guys fell in love, it was an amazing feeling for both of you

you had to say it first

“i love you, bucky”

he picked you up and gave you a kiss afterwards

“god, i love you, too”

you’ve done his hair up a few times, it’s amusing

bucky gives you long kisses on the lips and tons of forehead/hand/shoulder kisses

and bucky’s not always serious, he’s has a sweet side that you bring out in him

he teases you a bit

he’s TALL and he plays keepaway like a big meanie

>:( “bUcKy!!!!”

“i’ll hand it over if you give me a kiss”

you guys moved to romania together in that cozy little apartment

and things were good for you guys

you guys worked, went to the market, every once in a while you had dates...you were really happy

he bought some cookbooks and surprised you with dinner after a long day at work

“i hope you like it, it was a nightmare to make”

“psssh, it smells great, i bet i’ll love it”

cuddling is his favorite

he needs affection

sm of it

but he doesn’t ask for it

*one exception, he pulls you onto his lap

you guys share a shitty, creaky mattress that drives you crazy

like sitting on it and it goes *squuuueaaak*

and, obviously, given the circumstances, bucky trained you in self defense. he wanted to make sure you could save yourself if he wasn’t there for you

the two of you led a simple little life for a while

until you walked into your apartment and saw the silhouette of a large man that was not your boyfriend

you dropped everything as he came out of the shadow

“i’m sorry to startle you, you must be bucky’s s/o. i’m steve rogers, bucky’s in trouble”

your heart was racing

you called bucky but he wouldn’t answer you

but he got home and found you packing each of your things

“there’s no time, y/n, we have to go”

you weren’t like them, you couldn’t fight armed soldiers or jump out of windows or run with cars

so one of captain america’s teammates picked you up, falcon

you all ended up getting apprehended anyways

you were questioned for a brief amount of time, but as soon as the power went out you were able to run

until you saw the winter soldier, that wasn’t bucky

steve made sure you kept away, he knew that if bucky hurt you he would never forgive himself

but again, sam got you out of there while steve got bucky

and once bucky snapped out of it, he remembered his entire past, you’d be learning about a whole new side after this

listen, bucky was terrified during this

if it was just him, he would have a clear mind and go on, but now you were all fugitives and he was mad that he dragged you into this

“please stop blaming yourself, bucky. you know that this is still my choice to stand by your side”

“i know, i just dont want to lose you”

“then stop trying to push me away, i need you and you need me”

steve pulled you aside when he got the chance to tell you:

“im glad he found you, thank you for staying by his side”

you sat in the back of the volkswagen with bucky, clutching onto his hand

“it’s gonna be okay, steve told me you can trust sharon”

yes, you had to stay with sharon during this, she was breaking a lot of rules

“so, did you know he was the winter soldier when you met him?”

“yeah, but he was a good man, too. i focused on that”

“that’s good, that’s really good”

after the “civil war,” you were granted a safe haven in wakanda with bucky, so you and bucky moved there

it was a lot more peaceful than the past few years

bucky told you all about his childhood up until his “death”

he had gotten apart of himself back, it was another part of him to fall in love with

you got to dance with him to some of his favorite songs, it made you feel wonderful

and you got some more training time in wakanda, you never knew when you’d need to kick some ass

and then the day came when the two of you had to fight for your lives and HOLY shit he was losing his mind but he couldn’t stop you from fighting in this one

“y/n, are you sure you want to do this?”

“absolutely. i love you, you big lug. don’t forget it”

“i love you, too. i’ll be out there if you need me”

cap kept an eye on you

but you saved a few people’s asses

before you looked into the eyes of thanos

when he snapped, you watched bucky fade away

and you fell to your knees

and cried, for days you cried

steve and you were heartbroken, it had been 4 years with bucky, now you were alone

you were determined to get him back

but it seemed like there was no chance

so you gave up, stayed at the avengers compound instead, trained like hell with black widow and anyone else who’d have you

five years went by and you were a badass

and you got the second chance you needed, the avengers reunited

“y/n, are you up for this?”

“i’d do anything to get him back”

and after hard work and tragedy, you brought him back

you all did

you were reunited with him and he was surprised to see you kicking ass on the battlefield

“y/n? is that you?”

“bucky! oh, my god. i’ve been waiting five years for this”

he gave you a huge hug and studied your hardened face, there was much to catch up on

“i’m sorry i wasn’t there”

“it wasn’t your fault”

you and your boyfriend kicked alien ass for all you had left, this was your last chance to make it right, all or nothing

you were relieved once it was all over

you actually watched the sunset with bucky while you patched up your wounds

“i’m glad you’re okay, y/n. i don’t know what i’d do without you”

“bucky...i was lost without you these past few years...i just can’t believe i’m here with you again”

“well, i’m not going anywhere anytime soon”

he wrapped his arm around your shoulder and the two of you took in your gift of a well-deserved peaceful moment

taglist: @alwaysananglophile // @rorybutnotgilmore // @locke-writes // @sweetheartlisbeth // @queen-destenie // @natasha-danvers // @allthecreativeonesaretaken // @frostedgiant // @praellee // @emygirl

[tinyshinysylveon]

It was cold. The loud beeping noise nearby keeping his eyes from closing any further until a much louder and yet familiar voice breaks out.

“Deku!?”

K-Kacchan? he tries to speak, but couldn’t. His body refusing to move.

“Hey hey, don’t try so hard. I’m right here.” Katsuki reassured him as he gets closer to his peripheral vision. It was a little blurry but he can see the silhouette form of his partner on the side of the bed.

The blonde didn’t let up the string of words of “I’m right here, I’m right here.” Izuku’s memories were blank for some reason, but he remembers, knows Kacchan. It also seems they’re the only ones in the room from what he deduced.

“Izuku look at me.”

He suddenly looks up to what he assumes to be Katsuki’s face, the use of his real name capturing him off guard. It appears he’s been trying to call him with no luck, but he has been drifting in and out of consciousness lately despite waking up not long ago. He just feels so sleepy..

“Izuku, don’t you dare close your eyes.”

The tone of his voice became desperate, this kept Izuku from falling asleep if only for a few minutes. His focus entirely on Katsuki.

“Didn’t you say you wanted to live together in a big house on the hills?”

Izuku was confused and a little disoriented, but he held on to Katsuki’s words. Not quite remembering, but believing what Kacchan was telling him is true.

“You said you wanted all the extra rooms for all the merch you’ve collected over the years, especially the ones I’ve been gifting you when we dated,” he continued and chuckled, although, half heartedly. “Remember that huge All Might toy I got you? That shit costed me so much, but seeing you happy was worth it.”

Izuku didn’t notice Katsuki getting even closer to the point he can hear his voice more clearly. He feels a weight on his side where he suspects his arm is and his hand being clutched tightly with another.

“I.. remember you mentioned adopting kids in the future. Another reason why you wanted a big house so that they can occupy the space there. I personally would want a little girl so that I can call her princess or a boy if you prefer,” Izuku can feel a ghost of a smile there. “And I bet those little shits would get on my nerves for sure, but-“

There was a shifting noise and a heavy sigh. “You also wanted to start on an orphanage nearby. You said you wanted to bring up the kids who were abandoned, especially those who were ridiculed, ones that you’ll guide and protect your whole life and Deku...” 

He felt pressure on his hand.

“I didn’t say anything before, but I fully support the idea. I’ll always be there for you, so... don’t you dare leave me.” 

Katsuki’s voice is full on quavering now. His outline shaking and Izuku’s arm suddenly feels wet for some reason. He couldn’t fully comprehend the situation, but he knows that something is wrong.

“I’m sorry Izuku, I know I should’ve said this before and I’m so sorry. I’ll keep telling you this everyday if I have to, just please don’t leave me. Not now.” 

Ah. Izuku remembers now. Memories of Katsuki began to appear, their first date and first kiss, how Katsuki complained about his lips feeling dry afterwards and recommending the strawberry chapstick so that he can kiss him better. He remembers the day Kacchan proposed to him when they went home feeling tired from a night of patrol together and how he just casually “popped the question” while laying face down on the bed. He remembers feeling warm and safe in his arms as they watch another All Might show on the couch of their apartment. He remembers telling him about owning a house on the hills and the idea of constructing an orphanage nearby to help kids in need. He remembers the soft look Katsuki gave as he watches him play around with the neighborhood kids and offering them a ride on his back. The instant plan of adoption weighing heavily in his mind. He remembers the way Katsuki would look at him with eyes of adoration and love as they share small kisses inside the privacy of their bedroom. Their little interactions making his heart swell and body feel hot. How could he forget?

In the moment of clarity, Katsuki reached his face near Izuku’s and placed his forehead on his. This exchange brought out an immediate reaction on Izuku and felt his tears streaming down his face. 

“Shh, Deku, it’s okay now. I’m here. I’m here.” 

Kacchan...

“I’m here Deku. Please don’t leave me.. I love you..” 

He can hear the beeping noise closely coming to an end as it beats out a really slow inconsistent rhythm and his eyelids began to steadily drop. He tries to fight it, but he can’t. Not anymore. He’s just so tired.

Kacchan.. Thank you...

“Deku...? Deku?!” 

and I’m sorry... 

[chiimmchiimm]

❝ 𝖒𝖔𝖓𝖘𝖙𝖊𝖗 !¡ 𝒻𝑜𝓊𝓇𝓉𝑒𝑒𝓃 ❞

CHAPTERS “  01 - 02 - 03 - 04 - 05 - 06 - 07 - 08 - 09 - 10 -  11  - 12 - 13 - 14 - 15 - 16 - 17 - 18 - 19 - 20 - 21 - 22 - 23 - 24 - 25 - 26 - 27 “     

The northern jail was the most dangerous in the country, social scum, thousands of criminals were locked behind their bars. Who would tell poor Blair that he would end up there because of his father’s mistake. The problem was not the lack of hot water, but that inhuman obsession that many of the prisoners had for “new toys.” Rookies had two options; be submissive and abide by veterans’ orders or suffer the dangerous anger of those disturbed minds. It all started one night when Blair had the bad idea of ​​going to shower alone.

𝒢𝑒𝓃𝓇𝑒: smut.(later), offender au, fluff, angst. 

𝒫𝒶𝒾𝓇𝒾𝓃𝑔:  Jungkookoffender au x (female: Blair)

𝒲𝑜𝓇𝒹𝓈:  3.4  k

𝑅𝒶𝓃𝓆𝓊𝒾𝓃𝑔: +18

𝒲𝒶𝓇𝓃𝒾𝓃𝑔:  dirty language, lies, serious many concealments, impulsive questioning, Jk tattoos, close, much closer, muscles, biceps, problems, very big problems, new threats, a little open end, future friends, sad conversation, memories, this chapter it is very fluff sorry i saw it necessary.

𝒜𝓊𝓉𝒽𝑜𝓇’𝓈 𝓃𝑜𝓉𝑒:  Long time, dear readers, despite the quarantine I have been very busy preparing for the university exams, I have been very busy :( I will try to upload the chapters more often. Great things will be coming, I promise you! Thank you very much for reading and enjoying the chapter! Also, I have uploaded a little gift. It is a small one-shot of Jk being a god. With nothing more to say enjoy reading !!!

“What?” Was really the only thing I could say after listening to the inspector. I frowned in confusion as I glanced between the two men right in front of me. Hyolin formed a crooked smile, then slid his hands across the table, creating an overly irritating screech.

“Do you know Jeon Jungkook?” Asked his subordinate with a raised eyebrow. His neutral expression with a clear condemnation in his gaze directed at me.

"Yes." I nodded with a shrug because I suddenly felt so watched.

“So you know there are clear indications that it is related to the murder of the Julia June prisoner?” His voice was not from an interrogation, it was too stable, transforming his non-innocent question into a direct accusation. Even though my guts churned as I brought back to the present scenes I preferred to forget, I knew how to stay calm enough not to attract attention. However, the discomfort did not stop me from stirring in the chair.

"I don't understand what I'm doing here," I said. The confusion I used was reflected in my behavior through a quick blink and a quick glance at the principal's office.

"Were you or not the companion of the murdered prey?"

"Yes, but ..."

“Then answer that to your question!” His bribed man screamed with an air of grandeur. The irony I wasted on his stooped figure put me in a bad mood. I was startled by the recent screech causing my breathing to increase its course. Hyulin put a hand on his upper back to calm him down. His eyes were bloodshot. He was anxious, restless as if he were desperate.

“You saw someone go out with Miss June the night of the cars?” Hyulin asked. He kept his gaze fixed to get a good perspective of any reaction he might give.

"No..."

“Lies!” A loud clap on the table made him stifle a moan. Hyulin looked at her subordinate immediately, also putting her hand on his shoulder. He gave her a poisoned look as he pointed at me. "You're lying, Hyulin, if you don't even want.”

"Calm down," Hyulin demanded immediately. His dubious waved his hand clearing the way. Afterward, he looked at me again with a tired look.

"Miss London, do you really know what kind of person you are? If you are being threatened or alibi you just have to say so we will put you in a protected witness program."

"Inspector, I would like to help you but it was all very dark, you could hardly see anything." I declared quickly with some agitated stutter. Hyulin stretched her neck up, cutting me with her eyes. After a moment of harsh glances, Hyulin seemed to assume that this was the truth, so she relaxed her body, expelling a disappointed sigh towards her partner. "If that all I would like to return to my obligations I have many pending."

Hyulin waved her hand lazily at the door. I walked over to her but just as my fingers threatened to shut her Hyulin's voice stopped me cold.

"If you lie, it will be much worse to have kept silent than the punishment itself."

"In order and in a row two by two do not force me to repeat it! Kim shit keep training!" shouted Officer Ramírez, quite annoyed at having to deal with a group of prisoners. The uproar was palpable because for some of them it was the first exit since the first time they entered. It turns out that through humanitarian activity they took us to a nursing home to sing Christmas carols. It seemed quite illogical to me at the beginning, that is, to put twenty prisoners with some crimes quite strong in front of a couple of tender and innocent ancients, was crazy. Later, I learned from a prisoner that everything was to wash away the reputation of the director who had been ironically linking with rumors of accepting bribes.

We were boarded in an orange bus with bars on the windows as if that was going to prevent one from jumping off. We were seated in pairs according to the cell. After Carballo's nineteenth threatening talk, the bus headed for the nursing home, which was approximately thirty kilometers away. Of course, they had the delicacy to classify prisoners by sex, women in the right row and men in the left. They even kindly handcuffed us to the seat to keep us from stretching our legs.

And still, I still had a perfect view of Thirteen from my crouched position. So far in the morning, she hadn't spoken to him. And I certainly didn't understand why I couldn't stop my gaze from being drawn to him every time he entered my field of vision. Perhaps it was the intrigue of the previous day. As usual, I had not slept healthy and as always, the fault was the owner of my attention right now. As I tossed and turned in bed, I couldn't stop thinking about the first night I got here. When I saw Julia leave the cell with him. It was funny how it had passed into the background as new events had happened. And now, when I had returned I had done it like a tsunami devastating all my tranquility. Because even though his attitude towards me had radically changed, he was afraid, very afraid, that he really had something to do with the death of that girl because if it was so. Who told me that the same could not happen to me?

"Hey." A small direct scream in my ear made me jump into my seat causing me to tug on my cuffed wrists. Gemi in a silent complaint turning her head to look at Lucy who greeted me with a worried grimace. "And what about you seems to have seen a ghost?"

"Something like that," I confessed wryly, remembering the annoying visit of the two police officers the day before. Lucy twisted a funny smile and then clicked her tongue and turned her attention again to the view of the desert from the window. "Hey, Lucy ..." when she heard her calling, she looked at me curiously again. "Julia was really the maid. Thirteen before, you know ... "

“What's that for now?” Lucy wrinkled her nose, disoriented by my sudden interest. I bit my lip nervously not wanting to talk too restless.

"You told me." I avoided his question with the intention of shifting his focus. When she nodded uncomfortably, I felt more relieved. "The day after Julia's disappearance when I told you that I had dated Thirteen you became nervous. Some time later you warned me to stay away from him."

"Blair, for your sake drop the subject." She said quite irritated. I frowned at his suspicious insistence. He seemed quite guilty suddenly leaving me with a pit full of questions that wanted to be answered.

"Did thirteen have something to do with it?"

"Blair, shut up," she threatened in a low whisper.

"Why do I have the feeling that you know more than you say?"

“You have no fucking idea of ​​anything, dammit!” The intensity ended up betraying his stability making his scream bounce off the bus. I raised my eyebrows surprised at her loss of judgment not realizing that everyone turned to see us immediately. Instantly, Ramírez stepped between the seats to reach us with a face of few friends. I ended up sinking into my seat as an apology.

“What's going on here?” Ramirez nodded at Lucy in a silent warning. She rolled her eyes as she straightened up in the seat.

—I've got a bug in my nose, I have the fucking period and it's deadly hot on top of it. Do you want me to continue? ”Surprisingly, his annoyed tone does not provoke the same reaction in Ramírez because the man seems to be out of place due to so much information at once deciding for his own good to be mental to get away. The rest of the prisoners who had also turned to know what was happening end up turning too so as not to suffer Lucy's uncontrollable anger.A pair of dark eyes observe the scene from a distance with intrigue. Blair, who sees them right away, tries to respond with a reassuring smile but is only able to wince. He knows from her unhappy look that he will later witness her questions but now he decides to focus on Lucy and leave the almost certain harassment of Thirteen for later.

"I want to believe no." Lucy's sweet voice is a relief after having previously mistreated her ear. Blair stopped looking at Thirteen, averting a sorry look full of regret. He realizes that maybe he has forced things and that they were not the best ways but at least he had obtained the result. "Actually, he is not a bad person. I would put my hand in the fire for him if they ask me to do it And they will ... "

"Do not touch or take anything because I swear that whoever gets caught with a medication or something they did not come with goes to isolation for two weeks without food," Ramírez threatened. We all agreed in agreement although there were a couple of prisoners who decided to start making fun of the couple of officers who accompanied us. For my part, I would have preferred that Brain had come but lately he has stopped going to the pressure not showing up for his usual work schedule. I wonder what happened to him. I hope it is okay. "Take an instrument and if you don't know how to play, well, be careful not to bother because I won't mind handcuffing you in front of the elderly!"

"Yes, mom," Taehyung replied under his breath causing a couple of inmates to giggle. I watched the aforementioned with a tight smile at the temptation to imitate the rest of my colleagues and receive the punishment of Officer Ramírez. I stopped smiling immediately when I noticed as I looked at Taehyung that Thirteen was standing next to him with his gaze fixed on me. Narrowing his eyes as if with that act he could read my mind. I looked down at the ground and with my head hidden between my shoulders I followed the others towards the instrument table.

I sighed indecisively because in truth the only instrument that knew how to play was the piano and it looked like this institution did not have the budget to have decent musical instruments, with only a couple of flutes present and one or the other ukulele. I laughed to myself as I remembered a little me with that in my hand while trying to make a note sound melodic. It had been a good vacation at my grandparents' house, of course, my father had not participated in them, so I added that so that he could enjoy everything he wanted without unwanted interruptions. Reach out to touch the wood of the small object reaching the nostalgic and rough texture of it. I froze when a hand I instantly recognized crushed mine against the instrument. The black-tinted knuckles and the large dimension of it did not make it very difficult to know whose it was. Nor, the voice that whispered in my hatred soon after.

"Are you avoiding me, you little naughty?"

“Thirteen!” I yell in fright, turning abruptly toward her figure right behind me. He almost collided with his chest at its too surprising closeness. However, Thirteen seemed not to feel intimidated by the short distance between our bodies emitting a hoarse laugh at the pale expression on my face. The hand that had previously been under his had magically reached my chest. I felt how the heat established by his hand had disappeared so quickly that I became depressed without knowing why. Going back to reality I intended to back off but I ended up accidentally hitting the edge of the table awkwardly lifting it from its place for a couple of seconds. I place my hands on either side of my body to support the table and prevent it from falling. Not knowing if his gesture was really purposeful, I remained alert. My face turned red as his breath stirred the hair on top of my head. Throwing his body back, he left his face at the height of mine, however, his hands were not moved from the table achieving an improvised cornering. I swallowed nervously as he gave me a sharp look and his lips were wet with his tongue slowly.

“What happened on the bus?” “Oh, there is your questioning. Of course he had approached just to ask. Thirteen raised an amused eyebrow when I smiled wryly. He was curious like the others, really, he had not approached like this to speak. I mean, when had he done it? It was clear that he was taking an interest in his brother, the matter was not for me, but for Lucy.

"We're talking about you," I replied calmly, more than I expected considering that he is practically on top of me. I was quite proud of my upright posture nothing like the pathetic Blair that trembled every time this man was around. Of course, Thirteen raised his eyebrows surprised by my attack of sincerity but that did not make him change his posture in front of me. "We talked about your mania of cornering people to speak especially to women." I said quite amused but to the cutting time. To my surprise, Thirteen began to laugh sweetly, taking my offense as an innocent joke.

"I don't usually corral women to talk because in case you haven't noticed, that leaves them even more mute," he commented with the same irony as me. Despite the tone I express I could perceive that he was playing as usual. I bit my lower lip, tempted to smile.

"You have not left me speechless." I mocked with a stupendous smile of superiority. "Thirteen." I spoke slowly to create a drama that turned into too comfortable a silence. Thirteen twisted a mischievous smile raising his cheek allowing a small dimple that he had not seen before appear. He brought his body closer to mine with a tortuous slowness to stop just a few inches from grazing our noses.

"There are many ways to leave a woman speechless," he muttered hoarsely near my lips, turning the situation would be. I felt his breath hitting forehead warming each end of skin that brushed. His fucking dark gaze that always conveyed the same neutrality seemed completely like someone else's. Despite its blackness, if you approached closely to contemplate the details, you could see a look that shouted many things, not only passion, not only desire, it was more than that, much more. Maybe that was what shocked me, enslaved to her black irises. There was a heyday of mixed feelings. A light and at the same time a terrible and deep darkness that would not let me move forward as if I were part of a wall made for his protection. Lucy's words were still fresher than ever as time passed by analyzing her gaze.

"You're not going to kiss me." I shoved my deepest thought into the light with soft words. Thirteen strained his shoulders almost instantly as if it had been poison he had thrown and not a few words. His gaze hardened and then, it was at that moment, that the great wall that protected his true essence fell in front of me. I probably shouldn't have taken advantage of the situation, but my body was really filled with so much adrenaline that I was acting on pure instinct. "I know that you would never do something like this without knowing beforehand if you wanted to do it. You are not a bad person, who has rotted your soul like that so that now you don't stop thinking about it?"

"You don't know me, Blair. Fucking not." He replied curtly, however, despite his abrupt and harsh demeanor he did not leave me giving me the opportunity to appreciate more closely his gaze lost in an abyss of pain.

"I know," I said simply. I smiled weakly at my bewilderment at having finally deciphered the riddle of his neutrality. "But I don't have to know a person to know when they think they are alone."

His lopsided smile came back in full force, this time reflecting so much bitterness that it was difficult to keep my cool, calculating attitude. It was the first time we talked so openly, I didn't want it to close because I didn't know when the wound would reopen for me.

"It is so obvious?"

"Yes," I confessed sadly, feeling a huge lump in my throat that forced my voice to fade. I closed my eyes when I knew that this time, I would also open my soul. "Because I also have that look."

A finger caressed the socket of my eye, wiping away a tear that I didn't even know had started to run. I just let myself caress succumbing without thinking about the consequences. Just thinking about how good the caresses of his fingers felt. Not in what they will say. Not in itself was wrong. Not in itself it was fine. I just wanted someone to give me the love I had needed without knowing it. When I opened my eyes some time later I was shocked with the scene that was rebelled. She was not the only one who had been crying. And yet it had been so selfish not to notice. A lonely tear ran down her cheek. Reach out and catch it by squeezing its skin weakly. I grimaced as the drop seemed to seep through my skin, digging deep into my heart. As if that single drop transmitted all the pain, I began to feel sad, but so strong at the same time that I couldn't help but think about the ironic situation. It was the first time I had seen him cry, and although he had only shed a single tear, it had been enough. The questions were answered with an invincible pen. The previously recited words brought back. Of course, he hadn't killed Julia. He would never do. Not when I could look at his sparkling eyes up close. And without knowing it, he had long known the answer. Of course I knew it. But I had kept a band in my eyes out of fear. One, who had now fallen to the ground alone after all this. I didn't know what Thirteen was thinking but I could guess he felt the same way as me. An invisible connection unconsciously tied us creating an atmosphere of security that surrounded us with all the strength we needed.

Soon, we found ourselves smiling like two idiots who had found the solution after always having it in front of their eyes.

“Are you going to get that thing?” He asked, nodding toward the instruments behind me. I pressed my lips together and wrinkled my nose. Afterward, I turned around to grab the ukulele.

"Yes, and you should get something too."

"No, you would be surprised to hear me sing that thing that would only overshadow my wonderful voice."

"It's called a ukulele," I said. I laughed in consequence of his strange grimace.

"Whatever."

After being part of the worst show in the history of this poor nursing home, Officer Ramirez gave us two minutes to go to the bathroom before going back to the bus and taking the trip back to prison. Of course, Ramirez did not count that there were only two cabins and all of them were suddenly anxious to pee. Although I don't really blame them those toilets could perfectly outperform any jail seat.

To avoid desperate kicks at the bathroom door, I decided to be the last. Wait about twenty minutes but it really was all worth it. Upon leaving, I washed my hands with soap enjoying another of the luxuries that the prison lacked. I grabbed paper to dry my hands, then threw it in the trash and opened the door to get out.

"Yes, I know," said a voice that I recognized instantly. My heart froze inside my chest. The bathroom door was left ajar, not wanting to interrupt, much less when I could take a look and confirm the two people who were unattended in front of the women's bathroom.

"Hong Kong, you know that with a single word we say goodbye," said his partner, who until then had only ever seen him by his side as a lap dog.

"No, calm down Boy, it won't be necessary to stain us with blood." Hong Kong assured through a calculating tone. Then there was such a terrifying silence that I began to hear the pounding in my heart. "She will do it for us."

"Oh, okay," the other man agreed, laughing wildly. Hearing footsteps walking down the hallway a relieved sigh came from my mouth relaxing against the wall.

"Goodbye, Blair."

nex

[myeongchokrp]

BE CAREFUL OUT THERE, CHOI SOOBIN .

She was born on AUGUST 13TH, 1995 as CHOI SOOBIN, but you might know her as ENIGMA. This twenty-four-year-old is an UNDERCOVER INTEL GATHERER and EMPLOYEE at WILD-FLOURS. Her allegiance lies with no one.

TW KIDNAPPING

WHO ARE YOU?

“it’s only going to be some quick questions, we will be done soon, you’ll see” the officer says, still a tentative look in his eyes. 

“of course, please go on, i won’t mind” she smiles just as she’s expected to do, the small smile that lights her eyes in a way that makes her look helpless yet inviting. 

“perfect, first one is easy: please, tell me who you are” 

she can’t help but chuckle a bit, after all this time. “my name is choi soobin, i’m twenty-four years old and i was born here, in yeongi” she recites her answer almost as if it was a mantra. 

“well done, it’s good that you remember that-” 

“august the 13th” 

“excuse me?” 

“that’s my birthday, i thought you might want to know that too” she smiles for a second time, as sweetly and soft as before. 

“of course, thanks. can you tell me a bit more about yourself?” 

“well, i graduated from high school here too and then started working at the lumin8 club as a bartender” she nods at her own answer and pretends not to notice how he starts scribbling the moment she says the club’s name. expected.

“what can you tell me about your job? what were you expecting to do afterward?” he raises his eyes to her face and she recognizes the look immediately, he’s trying to size her up, take note of any reaction from her part. thus, she presses her lips as if pounding. 

“being sincere, i don’t know. it was not my dream job, that’s for sure, but i didn’t have big plans either. and it was a good place, they were nice to me” most of the time she wants to add, but that’s not part of the rehearsed answer, and she doesn’t want to raise more questions to that topic. not when everything is going just as planned. 

“you are young still, there’s plenty of time for you to figure” he concedes. she smiles again, the third time now, and he reciprocates, a compassionate look in his eyes. he’s hers now. “well, and what about after the club, what you did?” 

“i don’t know” she lies, partially at least. 

“ok, and can you tell me how you’ve come back here?” 

“i also don’t know that” a lie again. she averts her sight, almost as if scared of something, but then looks back at the man. “mr. officer, i know what you want me to tell” she continues, her voice now lowered to almost a whisper. big doe eyes, full of uncertainty and sorrow, asking for his understanding. if he only knew how empty she’s inside… “i’m sorry to disappoint, but i really don’t remember what happened that day either” and, for the first time, she’s not lying at all.

HOW DID YOU GET HERE?

they find her one evening in the main road traversing the island, walking barefoot and disoriented, and they take her to the hospital with no delay. so kind and so sweet for that couple to take care of her, she takes notice to go and visit them with a gift when she’s done with all that nonsense. the examinations are positive, as expected, there are no signs of harm to her body (save for a long scar in her side, old and already healed) and she is perfectly healthy. no reasons to worry, if it wasn’t for the fact that she’s recognized as choi soobin, the girl that disappeared years ago and was considered dead. and that she remembers absolutely nothing.

of course, this only but gathers more attention to her surprise apparition. people are drawn to drama. and even from her bed at the hospital, she’s able to read what each visitor’s been thinking about her. “she probably got herself pregnant and went to sell the baby to a rich family” “i heard she was involved with drugs or something like that” “poor girl, she probably was at the wrong place at the wrong time” “well, wasn’t she known for being very nice to her customers, at the club?”. disgusting, confusing, expected. but, as with everything, it’s only a matter of time for the news to die out and for people to move on to a different topic.

and so days go by at the hospital. lost in her empty mind. answering questions she doesn’t know where they come from. (”no, i don’t remember my name” “no, i don’t know what i’m doing here” “no, i don’t know what happened”).

that is until the phone she’s been given one day rings. a static sound breaks when she picks it up and, then, a muted voice. “it’s time to remember your name, enigma”. the call finishes without further explanation and she leaves the phone at the nightstand, all back to normality. but that morning, when the doctor comes to ask her the very same questions, she smiles. “my name is choi soobin, thanks for taking care of me”. they discharge her that very same day.

she knows she’s still not done with it yet, the police will come, they will want to ask her more questions, they won’t be satiated with the empties she’s giving, but this is still better than to try and forge a fake history. and even them will forget too, just like they did back in the day. “don’t worry, you are ready for this”. she knows that too, that’s why she’s there, that’s the only reason she’s come back and the only thing she’s certain about.

the phone rings a second time when she’s at her new place, back home after having found her new job. “you can move to the next phase. no traces, do what you need to do”. she nods, ending the call without uttering a word, then opens the phones with a swift movement, breaks its internal parts and trashes it in a bin. she’s ready and she has a job to do.

[italian-shitstorm]

20 with mako ;)

Oh girl!!!!! I was so excited to get this because I wanted to do something with angst and hurt and make it sad!! but i didnt???? and some how i wrote a story about Christmas even though it’s almost summer????? anyway thank you!! And sorry in advance. I started writing this then I spent the day at my friends house and finished it and felt like i used 2 different writing styles so whoops (also this is a not that Mako’s birthday is December 18th so this starts a couple days after)

“I want to go home…”

Michael unlocked the door and walked into the quiet apartment. It was late at night and the christmas tree wasn’t on so they had to reach their hand out to turn on a lamp on the side table. Calling out softly, they wondered if Bentley was still up late working or if he had gone to bed already. Everyone seemed asleep except for Shutter who meowed at them and came to rub up against their legs. Kneeling down Michael sighed and pet the cat and picked him up, cradling him close and giving him a kiss. Not being home for the past three days made them worry the cats would forget who they were.

Feeling exhaustion drag them down, they made their way into the bedroom where Bentley was loudly snoring and all sprawled out across the bed. Sitting on the bed, they reached over and kissed Bentley softly on the cheek. Feeling tears threaten to spill for the millionth time, they snuggled up close to Bentley and tried to take a couple deep breaths to calm themselves. Everything just seemed to be piled so high on their plate that it felt overwhelming and Michael wasn’t sure how much more they could take.

Hot tears slid down their face and soaked into their boyfriend’s shirt. All of the tiredness and anxiety from the day seemed to melt away and they continued to cry. A few more minutes went by before they really started feeling sleep drag them under. Before long they were fast asleep, arm wrapped tightly around Bentley’s waist and eyes puffy from crying.

The next day, Michael woke up with the sun in their eyes and one of the cats laying on their chest. Rubbing at blurry eyes, they looked around and felt slightly disoriented. Reaching over to grab the cellphone that they had forgotten to charge overnight they saw a message from Bentley and realized they had slept until after noon. Trying to sit up, muscles groaned in protest from being too sore and their head began to throb with a growing headache. Groaning, they laid back down and let Shutter cuddle back up against their side.

After an hour or so of no relief they went to find some medicine for the pain throughout their body and maybe to get a shower. Moving about the apartment sluggishly Michael realized they hadn’t read Bentley’s text message yet. Tears threatened to spill again as they read the message saying Bentley would be gone all day and probably wouldn’t be back home until late tonight.

Leaning against the kitchen counter, Michael tried to close their eyes and take a couple deep breaths. They knew that it was the stress of work and the holidays making them so emotional, but it was really starting to become overwhelming. Today was the first day home from work in three days and here they were all alone. Michael couldn’t even remember the last time they had a full conversation with Bentley in person. Soon it would be Christmas and they weren’t even sure what exactly they were doing for the holidays. Everything seemed to be falling apart and an overwhelming sense of loneliness and sadness washed over them.

While they waited for the phone to ring, they looked for some medicine and water hoping something might take the edge off of the headache that seemed to be getting worse.

“Hi honey! How are you? I’m so glad to hear from you!”

Hearing their mom’s voice on the other end of the phone just gave Michael so much relief that the tears started falling freely.

“Mako, baby, what’s wrong?” Concern filled their mom’s voice.

“I’m not sure, it’s really just a lot of things,” they sobbed.

Trying to pull themselves back together to form some coherent sentences, their mom tried to get some more information and calm them down.

After stumbling through a really quick summary of the emergency at work, the stress of the holidays, and not really even seeing or talking to Bentley, Michael tried to hold back as many tears as they could.

“Mom, I just really- I want to go home…”

Feeling the homesickness deep in their gut they had tried for so long to ignore it. They had plans to go visit family in a few months, but the feeling of being so far away was absolutely unbearable right now.

“I know baby, I miss you too so so much! But don’t worry, we’ll see each other soon. I promise.”

Unable to continue speaking, Mako was given instructions by their mom to go lay back down and get more sleep. The headache didn’t seem to be going away and they ended up going back to sleep instead of getting a shower.

Waking up again in a daze, their room was dim and they wondered if they had slept all day. Thankfully there was no more headache and their body didn’t seem as sore. Getting up they did a quick sweep around the house but Bentley was still not home. Sighing, they went to finally take a shower and was hoping to get something to eat afterwards.

When Michael finally got out of the shower, they heard a noise coming from the living room. Putting on fresh pajamas, they went out and saw Bentley sitting at his desk working on his laptop. He had his headphones on so he couldn’t hear Michael coming up behind him until they tapped on his shoulder.

Jumping slightly, he turned around quickly and smiled up at Michael, “Hey babe, how are you?”

Leaning down to kiss him on the cheek, Michael wrapped their arms around Bentley’s shoulders. “I’m hanging in there, I guess.”

Noticing the strain in their voice, Bentley turned away from his computer and looked up at his partner with worry. Michael noticed and tried to move away, but Bentley grabbed him by the hand.

“Whoa whoa whoa, you can’t just answer like that and then walk away.”

Instead of trying to pull away Michael just looked back at Bentley and asked if they could talk in the kitchen so they could get some food. As they both stood in the kitchen, Michael started on a quick dinner.

After explaining about missing their birthday, the stress from work and the holidays, Michael mentioned the call to their mom earlier. The homesickness weighed on their heart and they tried so hard not to start crying. There was a moment of silence before they continued.

“With everything going on right now, I just feel like you haven’t been home a lot or you have just been so busy with work that you haven’t had time to do anything.”

Bentley just stood there in silence, unsure of what to say. He knew it was true that he had been so busy with work lately, but he couldn’t help it.

“I tried so hard to get Christmas off from work so that we could spend time together and go to your friend’s house. But we haven’t wrapped any presents yet or done really anything Christmas-y lately. We didn’t even get to celebrate my birthday.” Michael really wasn’t mad, their voice was just sad and as they looked to Bentley for a reaction, he was just quiet and looked just as upset.

“And I know we both still have to work for the next couple days but do you think maybe we can do something together? I just miss you a lot and it feels like forever since I’ve really gotten to talk to you.”

Bentley nodded and grabbed Michael’s hand, “I know I’ve been really busy lately. And I promise that I will try to finish up this work as soon as possible so we can both have a great Christmas - we can even do something special for your birthday! We’ll make gingerbread houses or wear ugly sweaters or even get shitfaced on eggnog! Whatever Christmas-y things you want to do! Just give me a little more time for work and I promise that we’ll have a great Christmas.”

Not really sure what was really making them cry, Michael started to tear up as they hugged Bentley tightly. A little bit of the weight that was pressing down on their shoulders was gone and Michael hoped that maybe Christmas would be okay.

Mako sighed as he parked the car and closed his eyes for a moment. It was Christmas Eve and he felt so tired and wanted nothing more than to snuggle with Bentley and the cats and take a nap. All day at work he had been running around and trying his best to fight off the feeling of dread that lingered in the back of his mind. Ever since they had the talk, things hadn’t really changed. They ended up getting a small cake for his birthday and Bentley did get him a very nice watch that he wanted, but as for Christmas. Things still seemed out of hand.

Tomorrow they were supposed to meet everyone at Frank and Ethan’s house for a big dinner and presents, but at the moment, Mako really didn’t feel like he had the Christmas spirit to even enjoy it. And it’s not that he didn’t want to because he really did. Life just seemed to throw everything at him and it was really getting hard to stay happy and positive.

Getting out of the car, he grabbed his backpack and made his way to the apartment. As he got to the door he realized a fresh wreath was hanging on the door. It smelled of fresh pine and had a large red plaid bow tied neatly on the bottom. Confused Mako leaned in to smell it and feel the leaves. It was fresh and real but he had no memory of buying one or putting it on the door.

Trying the door knob, it was unlocked and he was shocked by what he saw inside. The thing that surprised him the most was that the house was immaculately clean. Everything was organized and more Christmas decorations were laid out on the coffee table. The tree was lit up brightly and to it’s left all of the stockings - even the cats’ small stockings -  were hung up on the wall. The aromatic smell of cloves and cinnamon hung in the air and he breathed deeply. A few candles were lit up on the high shelves and there were presents neatly arranged under the tree.

As if on cue all three cats came running out of the bedroom to see who ad come into the house. Each cat was wearing a different colored bow on their collar and Mako couldn’t help but kneel down and tell them all how handsome they were. Picking up Sokka, Mako looked up and saw Bentley come out of the bedroom as well wearing the tackiest Christmas sweater he had ever seen. He couldn’t help but laugh as Bentley walked over to him with something behind his back.

“Am I dreaming? What is going on here?” Mako asked as he leaned in for a kiss.

“I like to think this is what Hallmark would call a Christmas surprise. Part one of course,” he added at the end quickly.

“Part one? Out of how many parts? Why though?”

Bentley shrugged and the bells on his sweater jingled. Sokka reached out from Mako’s arms and tried to swat at the small bells. “If I’m being honest, I really owe you big time. For a lot.”

Mako looked down and gave a tired smile, “You really don’t though.”

Bentley rolled his eyes and swung his arms out to motion at all the decorations in the house, “Pfft, well you could have told me that earlier before I did all this!”

Looking back at Mako, Bentley had a genuine smile, “No, I really did owe you. I really wanted to do something special this year so I tried to take on some extra jobs to earn more money, but they took a lot longer than I thought and I got really overwhelmed. But I wanted to make sure you had a great Christmas.”

Revealing what was behind his back, Bentley handed Mako a Christmas sweater that was just as ugly as the one he was wearing. Laughing, he set the cat down and opened up the sweater to get a better look at it. It had lights that actually turned on and tinsel woven into the  actual fabric. It was so terrible that Mako loved it instantly. Feeling overwhelmed with love and appreciation, Mako started to cry and hugged his boyfriend tightly. Bentley peppered him with kisses all over his face and held him tightly.

“I love you so so much,” Bentley whispered.

“I love you too,” Mako sniffled.

After a moment they pulled apart from each other and Bentley couldn’t help but smile at how Mako tried to wipe away his tears. “Okay well let’s hurry up and take a shower and change because you smell like seaweed.”

Mako laughed but knew he probably did smell like he had been soaking in pond water all day.

“We have a tight agenda to stick to of making a gingerbread house, singing cheesy christmas carols, and making cookies. Also I heard we might have a visitor or two later, so chop chop!” Bentley said excitedly.

[kiruuuuu]

Echo Chamber Pt 2

Lesion goes in for the kill and Echo gets more than he bargained for. (Rating E, explicit sexual content, probably don’t read this at work, ~2.3k words)

.

“You didn’t have to accompany me all the way here”, Echo feels the need to point out as the door to his apartment swings open, a portal to a familiar universe in which there are no increasingly puzzling old men who inexplicably take him on innocent dates that leave him bewildered and weirdly happy at the same time. He’s looking forward to doing nothing for the rest of evening in preparation of an entire day of doing nothing tomorrow – he’s off duty and Lesion hasn’t even made any plans that include him so naturally that he never finds the right moment to refuse.

On the previous occasion, Lesion took him to a technological museum and allowed Echo to lecture him on pretty much every exhibit which resulted in them staying the entire day because they chatted forever with the employees as well as a few curious enthusiasts. And while it was nice, Echo still has no idea what’s going on. He came home that day thoroughly bemused and feeling like he missed something, any indication of what it is Lesion wants.

It’s similar today, Lesion invited him over for, as he called it, a romantic candle light dinner but couldn’t keep a straight face while doing so, therefore Echo was intrigued and accepted the invitation. The promised meal turned out to be Chinese take-out lovingly served in cardboard boxes and with terribly cheap chopsticks that hurt Echo’s soul. The practical joke lasts exactly to the moment Lesion tries some of the food, contorts his face into a disgusted grimace Echo has never seen anyone do before, proclaims it vile and an affront and takes Echo to a nearby Burger King instead. Then they went for a walk and here they are, Lesion completely at ease as usual.

“How else am I supposed to get my first proper kiss?”, he replies and makes no move to turn around and leave in the near future.

Echo sighs internally and bids farewell to a lazy evening alone. “Would you like to come in?”

“Of course, how nice of you to ask!” He’s grinning now, the old bastard, undoubtedly knows it’s not Echo’s hospitality speaking but rather pure exasperation coupled with the knowledge Lesion is just going to inch his way into the flat if Echo doesn’t explicitly prevent it and that would be rude after he’s already paid for all the food. He’s not comfortable with granting Lesion entry into his abode since it’s messy, clothes and tools strewn everywhere – besides, it feels weirdly intimate to invite him in. Like crossing a figurative threshold on top of an actual one.

He tries to not let Lesion’s curious gaze wandering through his small apartment bother him as they step into the tiny kitchen. Remembering he’s supposed to be the gracious host now, Echo asks more as an afterthought: “Do you want anything to drink?”

“I’m good, thank you. There’s only one thing I want”, comes the casual reply as Lesion eyes the electrical mess on the small kitchen table, courtesy of about three different projects Echo has started and largely abandoned.

“What, make fun of how untidy everything is?”

“No, actually, I think your clothes look very good on the floor”, Lesion says so nonchalantly that Echo can’t help but snort. Remarks like this have increased in frequency and he still hasn’t figured out how to react to them, so he mostly laughs them off. Lesion seems like a compulsive flirt and he normally laughs with Echo, switches topics and that’s it. Only… he’s not laughing now. There’s a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth, yes, but it’s different from the open one that Echo’s used to.

There’s enough time to stop him. Lesion steps over where Echo is leaning against the counter, keeping him in place with nothing but his expectant gaze, stands between Echo’s legs, leans in and kisses him. He’s neither sneaky nor fast about it, Echo has no excuse not to react yet lets it happen, feels soft lips on his for no more than two seconds and his heart forgets how to beat for a moment. And he thinks: Oh.

He wasn’t joking after all.

When Lesion pulls back again, Echo feels compelled to clear this up while his mind frantically backtracks, looks for clues Lesion has been serious all along and finds so many he ends up dumbstruck and more than a little embarrassed. “I think you misunderstood”, he starts uncertainly and prepares for hurt to creep into the old man’s features, instead finds only amusement.

“Did I?”, Lesion wants to know cheerily and then his lips are back, more insistent than before though still gentle and again, as so often, Echo gets swept up in his pace because he thinks fuck it and he’s always wondered what it’s like to make out with another guy anyway and he can explain that he’s not gay afterwards. And so he gives in, tilts his head a little and returns the kiss, has to remind himself to breathe and it’s been a while since he was this close to another human, enjoyed something as private as this. He savours the warmth that spreads from his midsection, is acutely aware of Lesion’s thighs between his and somehow…

Lesion’s hands are on his sides now, stroking him lightly as he sucks on Echo’s lower lip, thumbs tracing his ribs through his t-shirt and, like everything he does, it’s surprisingly pleasant. He’s a good kisser, more dominant than the women Echo’s been with, attentive and engaging, licks over his upper lip to request entry, plays with his tongue and Echo notices with growing concern that he’s getting hard from this. The deeper the kiss gets, the deeper his fingernails bite into his own palms, his hands balled into fists uselessly and his body demanding more, disconcertingly enthusiastic about the whole Lesion-shoving-his-tongue-down-his-throat situation.

It feels so good, is the problem – Lesion isn’t pushing him, instead gently nudging and encouraging him with decidedly filthy things he can do with his tongue and so Echo loses himself gradually, forgets about the fact they’re standing in his kitchen and Lesion likes him and he really needs to sit down with himself and reflect on why all this is giving him a boner.

When they break apart, Echo is out of breath and slightly disoriented and needs Lesion to leave because his presence alone is confusing and vaguely upsetting because he keeps smiling at him as if Echo was a piece of art. He blurts out the first thing that comes to mind in the hopes it will deter Lesion from ever kissing him again: “I’m sorry, I’m not… I’m not attracted to you.” And before he can even possibly regret being so blunt, there’s a hand in his crotch and the heel of a palm grinding against his erection, fingers feeling out his balls and a quiet “oh fuck” escapes him at the unexpected stimulation. Instinctively, he grabs Lesion’s wrist, intending to push it away. “Don’t – don’t touch me.”

Lesion’s chuckle by his ear makes his toes curl. “Oh, sweetheart”, he sighs and as Lesion sucks on the side of his neck, Echo looks down to find his own hips rolling against Lesion’s hand that he’s keeping in place with a firm grip around Lesion’s wrist. Arousal together with bewilderment are clouding his mind and so he’s got no presence of mind left to refuse when Lesion suggests: “Let’s take this to the bedroom, hm?”

~*~

Echo is teetering on the edge, the tips of his toes right on it, his gaze longingly staring down into the chasm that promises relief, he’s so tense he’s almost curling in on himself, completely at someone else’s mercy only that person has no understanding of that concept because Lesion pulls off his dick yet again and leaves him shuddering and gasping for air. Then Lesion’s lips close around one of his already overly sensitive nipples and all Echo wants to do is smack him for clouding his mind like this, making him squirm like an inexperienced virgin which Echo isn’t, thank you very much, he’s just never done it with another guy and luckily not with a devil before either because it’s unbearable.

This is the third time he’s been left hanging, denied his release. It’s starting to become a familiar feeling, the marrow-deep disappointment, the betrayal, and he hates it, hates that Lesion is affecting him so much, can so accurately pinpoint the second right before his orgasm would hit him. He doesn’t even know what time it is, they’ve been at it for what feels like ages and so far all that’s happened is that Lesion won’t stop complimenting him and playing with his nipples while he sucks him off so expertly that Echo can’t think of anything more appealing than coming down his throat, only Lesion won’t let him.

He’s a demon, Echo is sure of this by now: smooth, confident, attentive, generous, but also pure evil. “Lesion”, he huffs, annoyed, aroused, reaching for his painfully hard dick and wishing the old man physical discomfort upon him swatting his hand away, “get me off already, what are you doing?” He doesn’t get an immediate answer, instead Lesion laces their fingers together, presses Echo’s hands over his head into the mattress and awards him with another one of his deep kisses that are filthy and intimate at the same time, his tongue is running over Echo’s teeth and it’s enough to make him moan into Lesion’s mouth and lift his hips futilely, seeking any sort of stimulation that could push him over.

To claim he’s intimidated would be an overstatement though he’s not used to his partner taking the lead like this at all, if anything he was allowed to lean back, not required – Lesion is assertive to a point where Echo has to think hard about whether he’s uncomfortable or not. He’s been undressed very quickly into their heated make out session that initialised whatever this is while Lesion is still mostly clothed, has only taken off his t-shirt after the first almost-orgasm. On top of that he’s actively encouraged not to interfere, allow Lesion free reign though so far it has brought him nothing but frustration and a throbbing cock; he has to admit Lesion’s confidence is a turn-on though it’s easy to feel inadequate in the face of his unquestionable experience, so it’s a weird mix of emotions.

When Lesion wants to withdraw again, Echo chases his lips, convinces him to keep kissing a little longer and manages to achieve contact between their lower halves, grinds up into the other man, uncaring about the unfamiliar bulge in his crotch, only concerned about the friction generated that feels heavenly if he could just keep it up. His legs wrap around Lesion’s waist, pulling him in further and so Echo gains some leverage, pressing against the warm body over him and groaning defeatedly because it’s only a matter of time before he’s denied this stimulation as well. They break the kiss and he’s not prepared for the expression on Lesion’s face, watching desire, utter helplessness and something small and gentle battle on it.

“Darling, there are so many things I’d like to do to you”, he tells Echo softly and his words conjure up ideas that take hold in his fragile mind, overcome by arousal and hardly in a state to make any responsible decisions – ideas that somehow increase the already overpowering need.

“What things?”, he can’t help but ask; his interest is piqued and maybe it’ll guarantee a swift release if he plays along. At this point, he might even agree to letting Lesion fuck him if he wants to – part of him wants to prove he’s not afraid, another part is curious and another, significantly larger part genuinely thinks it’ll be hot. He’s heard details in passing, never acted on it, never researched but if he’s ever going to try it out, now’s the perfect time.

“I can’t decide.” A small smile creeps onto his face and he actually seems to be thinking, indicating it’s not just idle dirty talk but there really is a variety of things he wants to do. He sits back up, perched between Echo’s legs like a benevolent God, pondering how he should reward his trusty followers, one of his hands absently teasing Echo’s dick with touches too light to be satisfying. “What are you comfortable with? What do you definitely not want me to do?” He catches Echo’s hand and presses kisses into his palm, effectively stopping him from touching his own erection once more.

There’s no way Echo will lay down all the things with which he is and isn’t okay because that would take forever and his cock would’ve liked to ejaculate about half an hour ago. Maybe it’s also that he doesn’t know about half the things he might or might not want so his best bet is getting Lesion to talk about it. “Make suggestions and I’ll tell you yes or no.”

“Alright. Can I finger you?” A nod. He’s tried it himself, once or twice, though not very successfully. He’s got more faith in Lesion – he seems to know what he’s doing. “Can I fuck you, too?” Another nod, now embarrassed. It’s easier to admit it non-verbally, to not have to say it out loud and he hopes Lesion leaves it at that though his eyebrows lift considerably at his answer. “… would you like me to?” The third nod renders Lesion speechless, has him open and close his mouth mutely, avert his gaze, distractedly run his fingers over Echo’s thigh. He looks dumbfounded, the exact opposite of his previously almost cocky attitude, obviously hasn’t expected this answer. He takes a moment to regain his composure, then he asks: “Okay, so how about I give you the worst and then the best orgasm of your life?”

[elvendorks]

ECHOES OF OTHERS - 4

CHAPTER 4 otherwise called SPEAKING WITH THE VOICE OF ANOTHER

Summary: “Nobody heals themselves by wounding another, but they can heal another by wounding themselves.”

Genre: Superpower!AU; Angst, some Fluff and Humour scattered around (more in later chapters).

Warnings: This fic will contain themes like violence, strong language, kidnapping and ptsd (more will be added if they come up).

Pairing: Female Reader x ???

Word count: 2.4K

Teaser - Chapter 1 -  Chapter 2 - Chapter 3 -  Chapter 5

Unbeknownst to Y/N, the boys had stayed later until night time. Namjoon was stalling, he really did not want to face his father. The other boys had nothing to do and decided to stay at Hoseok’s for a while, in case she woke up and he needed help. Meanwhile Yoongi was just waiting for Namjoon to gain the courage to go back home and talk to Mr. Kim.

They had been eating and trying to come up with some way to keep her hidden from Namjoon’s father for a couple of hours when Jungkook suddenly shot up and grabbed Namjoon by the hand, dragging him away.

“Hyung, something’s happening to Y/N,” the youngest boy kept dragging Namjoon towards the room where she was sleeping in. The closer they got, the clearer what Jungkook was talking about became. She was starting to whimper and wrap her arms around herself. Now that the parade had ended, everything was coming back to normal.

The older male grimaced before crouching down next to the now-sleeping girl so he could whisper something to her, “Stop following Mr. Kim’s orders.”

His expression softened when her whimpers stopped altogether. She was now peacefully sleeping, clutching a pillow between her arms, a blanket wrapped snugly around her. Namjoon stood up and looked at Jungkook, whose eyes had gone quite wide.

“I’d never seen you do it.”

“Well, I hope you won’t be seeing me do it again at all after this,” Namjoon scrunched his nose and pat Jungkook’s shoulder. “We should go back; the guys are probably wondering why we left like that.”

Jungkook promptly nodded and started making his way back to the living room where all the other boys had started talking amongst each other again, but were expectantly looking at the direction the other two left towards every few seconds. Namjoon had followed and, on the way, decided that he should stop trying to avoid going back home.

When he finally got to the living room, he glanced at Yoongi, “Should we go now?”

“Yeah,” Yoongi stood up, looking at the rest of them for a second. “Anyone else leaving?”

Jin pursed his lips and shook his head, “Sorry, I promised Hoseok I’d stay. But I can pay a cab for you guys.”

“No need.” Yoongi added. “Anyone need a ride? It’s easier if we all leave in the same cab, that way nobody has to walk.”

Jimin glanced at Taehyung and nodded, “We could both do with a lift home.”

Jungkook shook his head, “I’m staying the night here in case Hoseok hyung needs anything.”

Yoongi then took out his phone and called for a cab while the others continued their chat.

“Okay, have fun,” Namjoon commented with a smile. “Call me or Yoongi if anything happens.”

“And us, you know,” Taehyung stood up from the couch with a pout.

“We don’t want to be the only ones who have no idea what’s going on,” Jimin followed his actions, but his tone seemed a little bit more teasing than hurt.

“Okay and text the group chat afterwards,” Namjoon rolled his eyes as he agreed.

Yoongi snorted and started walking towards the front door, “Let’s get going, they said the taxi would be here in five minutes and it’s already been like three.”

With that, the other three followed the black-haired male out the front door, leaving Jin, Jungkook and Hoseok by themselves in the living room.

“We should probably finish the food, right?” Jungkook questioned, but it ended up being almost a statement.

“Yah! Stop trying to tell me what to do! I’m completely capable of cooking this myself. DO you forget who taught you how to cook?”

“But- Hyung I’m better than you at this now!”

“Shut up, you both. You’ll wake her up.”

Y/N woke up slowly, she barely recognized the room she was in. She was so used to just grey walls and dirt that the bright light blue made her feel disoriented. There was large amount of negative feelings coming from outside the room she was currently in. Stress and annoyance. That’s what she felt when she stood up and came to her senses. Y/N opened the door and glanced outside. She sleepily waddled towards where the sound of loud arguing voices was coming from. When she found the source, she stumbled upon a very amused Jungkook and Hoseok accompanying a flustered Seokjin, who was trying to cook what seemed like breakfast for all four of them.

She stood at the door for a couple of minutes, looking at Jungkook dishing out comments on how Seokjin could make the meal better while Jin mumbled a few curse words back. Hoseok had lost all hope in trying to keep them quiet and was quietly sitting on a chair, waiting for them to finish.

After deciding that there was too much negative energy coming from Jin, Y/N made her way inside and wrapped her arms around Jin. The latter completely stopped doing everything and looked at Jungkook, then at Hoseok, before figuring out who was hugging him. He hadn’t noticed that everything he was feeling earlier was gone, it was now replaced with shock and relaxed feeling in the back of his head.

The eldest coughed loudly so he could clear his throat, “Uhm- Y/N, what are you doing?” His cheeks had been tinted pink and he had forgotten to turn the egg in the frying pan.

“You were giving off negative energy and this is the fastest way to get rid of that without getting too tired. I learnt that when I was like seven,” she replied before letting go of him and going to sit next to Hoseok.

Both Jungkook and Hoseok had not spoken a word or moved one inch since they had seen her hug Jin. Seokjin himself had only turned around after she let go so he could look at her.

“Guys- the egg’s burning.”

Jungkook quickly turned around and put off the stove before a fire broke out.

“I thought shock would be slightly better than annoyance, but now all three of you are shocked and it feels weird,” she commented almost absentmindedly, glancing at all the food that Jin had cooked for them. “This looks and smells so good, I bet it tastes amazing.”

“It does,” Jin boasted.

“Well, you really can’t go wrong with food when you’re Seokjin hyung.” Jungkook added a few seconds later.

The girl looked up at them with curiosity, “Why is that?”

“Ah, Jungkook-ah, we haven’t told her anything about us, she won’t understand,” Hoseok spoke out.

She tilted her head and furrowed her eyebrows, “I really don’t.”

“Sorry- Uhm, I’m an illusionist, you see,” Seokjin informed her as he placed the slightly burnt egg on a plate and took it to the table which Y/N and Hoseok were sitting at. “If something isn’t of your liking you can just tell me; I’ll change the taste for you. Eat up!”

Her eyebrows shot up; she nodded, “Sounds interesting.” Y/N’s eyes then shot towards Hoseok and Jungkook (who had sat down on the spot next to his older friend) as she started grabbing food to stuff her mouth with. “So… what can you two do?”

Jungkook scrunched his nose and squinted his eyes, “It’s strange, there’s not a name for it, really. I just learn how to do things and how objects work by just looking at them. Makes me a bit of a prodigy in most areas.”

Y/N’s eyes widened, “I think I understand, but I might not be following you.”

“You’ll find out with time, it confuses all of us, really,” Jungkook assured.

The girl was a little taken aback by his comment. The other three didn’t really notice but it bothered her how the statement implied that she would stay with them for enough time to understand them properly. But she knew she couldn’t stay, they should have known as well.

“I’m a shifter!” Her eyes shot towards the smiling pink-haired male, “People, animals… Sometimes if I focus enough I can do a unicorn of a dragon.”

She let out a laugh, trying to imagine the boy turning into a unicorn.

“And how did you all meet? That’s if you don’t mind me asking! You all just seem so close for not being the same age…”

“We don’t mind you asking, at least I don’t-” Seokjin glanced at the other two and when he saw no objections he continued. “I know Namjoon and Yoongi have been friends since they were children. Actually, our families are very good friends with each other, but I went to a boarding school, so I only became friends them when I came back, which was when I was twelve.”

She nodded, trying to absorb all the information she was given, “So you three have been friends for a while now, what ten years?”

“Around thirteen, technically,” he replied.

Y/N was a bit surprised, it seemed surreal to her, having such long friendships. That she might have been able to have that kind of friendship if she hadn’t agreed to Mr. Kim’s proposition.

“And what about the others?”

“I was Namjoon’s classmate since third grade; we only got close when we were in high school, so I joined a bit late. Jimin and Taehyung were friends of mine, we all lived in the same neighbourhood. They often just showed up at my place to play videogames. So at one point Jin hyung, Yoongi hyung and Namjoon were over here, and then Jimin and Taehyung just showed up. They kinda became friends then.”

“Okay, makes sense, I think?” She placed a spoonful of rice in her mouth and looked at Jungkook as if asking ‘what about you?’.

“Ah, the hyungs, as in Namjoon hyung, Yoongi hyung and Hoseok hyung, made a rap group on their last years of high school. I was a freshman who really liked their performances, so I ended up talking to them.”

“We thought he was cute,” Hoseok commented.

“That was an unnecessary addition to my story, hyung,” interrupted Jungkook. “Well, I basically ended up tagging along with them.”

She smiled and swallowed the food in her mouth, “It’s nice.” The three of them raised their eyebrows and grunted in confusion.

“You all have a nice bond. And I feel your happiness when you tell me about each other.”

“Ah, that’s-”

“No, really, it’s nothing.” “You’re making us sound like we’re all in a relationship with each other.” She let out a laugh and shook her head, “I did not say that.”

The whole day was spent talking and enjoying themselves. Jin had left at some point in the morning so he could manage his bakery/café for the day, which left Y/N with Jungkook and Hoseok. They were both extremely interesting to be with and had made her awfully comfortable around them. She really felt like she could trust them, but she wouldn’t. She knew she wouldn’t, not because they would break it but because it might hurt them both. Y/N learnt how to play with the new gaming consoles and games that had come out during her time in the basement. Apart from being a quick learner, Jungkook was also an amazing teacher.

Hours passed and by came night time. Namjoon hadn’t contacted anyone about what his father wanted the day before, neither had Yoongi. The boys did not know if it meant good or bad news. Jungkook left during the afternoon so he could grab something to eat and visit Jimin and Taehyung’s apartment (the two had apparently lived together for three years).

Y/N and Hoseok had sat down in the living room to watch a movie after the youngest left. It was an romcom. Y/N didn’t know what to expect and neither did Hoseok since he had never actually sat down and watched one. He had allowed Y/N to pick it and it ended up being one of his sister’s favourites.

One of the things Hoseok noticed was that her laugh was contagious, extremely so. As soon as she started, she made anyone who listened to it, mimic her action. Her laugh was also sweet and endearing. As it was such a rare sight, anyone would have felt the need to preserve it.

One of the things Y/N noticed was that Hoseok’s laugh was bright. He became the actual sun when he laughed. The only source of light in the room was suddenly not just the TV, but also Hoseok. She also found out that his laugh was loud. She would have bet that the people living three houses over could hear him when he laughed. But she didn’t mind, she found it interesting.

Y/N found herself tired. After the film, Hoseok decided for her that she would go straight to bed after eating. She did not protest at all. Her eyes had been droopy throughout the second half of the film and during the whole meal.

“What time do you usually go to sleep?”

“It depends. Since I’m a bit tired today, I might go in an hour or two. Why do you ask?”

“I was just wondering. I didn’t want you to stay alone for too long just because I’m sleepy.” “Ah, no, I don’t mind, it’s honestly fine.”

“Okay, good night Hoseok.”

The night came and went, Hoseok ended up going to sleep quite early. He had gotten a text from Namjoon asking if he and Yoongi could come talk in the morning. Apparently, his father had noticed something strange at the parade, but had not told him what it was and instead he asked Namjoon if he had seen anything. Hoseok had obviously agreed, telling them that there was no need for asking if they could come, they were always welcome and even more so in a time like this.

When Namjoon and Yoongi knocked on Hoseok’s door the following morning, they were quite surprised to find a very frantic and dishevelled Hobi opening the door for them.

“Guys, she’s gone, I can’t find her.”

Author’s note: This is so late I’m so so sorry! I hope you guys enjoy this chapter, it’s a bit of a filler, it also kind of lets you get a bit of an insight on who they are and what they can do. Hopefully this is entertaining, I don’t know if it is, tell me what you think! I love reading opinions on my fic.

Masterlist

[the-uptake]

The Uptake, The 704. 2|2|3|W. Book 1, Chapter 3. Go to previous. TWs: needles/phlegbotomy, medical diagnostics, emetophobia, forcefeeding, abusive dynamic. Revised 2019.06.28.

Galen came to in a small room with a polished concrete floor and walls and ceiling edges with simple recessed studio lighting. He attempted to roll over on his back. When the discovery of handcuffs halted him, he instead rolled onto his face to ease getting into a kneeling position. He pulled on the cuffs to guarantee they had been soundly clicked shut. He looked around the room. Whoever had brought him here had removed his tattered attire and clothed him in a dark tank top and pajama pants.

Fumbling to his bare feet, he found a locked heavy metal door in the middle of one wall, while the flimsy door in the corner led to a one-person bathroom. The layout of the room couldn’t manifest its current function at first glance. He kicked at the metal door trying to make some noise, but it didn’t get him anywhere, and it didn’t have any knob or handle anyway. He tried repeatedly to reach the cuffs to suck on them, but couldn’t manage to get his hands in his lap from behind him, and each time an exhausted derangement defeated him more and more. Eventually, he laid back down in the middle of the floor, and welcomed the cool of the concrete against his body.

He must have dozed off at some point, because two pair of dress shoes appeared in front of his face. He jerked back a ways with a hushed slaggit! under his breath. They belonged to two clean-cut older men, one a good bit taller than the other.

“Sorry to startle you, Galen.” The taller one, brunet, crouched down nearer, and rested his arms on his sprawled knees. “And we’re sorry that you had to be brought here under such circumstances. Hopefully, we can help you.”

Galen gave them a wild, sarcastic look before the fatigue wiped the expression off his face. Still, he craved the cuffs.

“--I know y’all?”

“Oh, my, no.” The shorter one, with longish swept-back pepper-blond hair, adjusted his glasses by scrunching his nose a bit, and joined his colleague in crouching. “Confirm for us, if you would: You were in an accident recently? And you believe it was chemical in nature?”

“Forgive Lyst.” The taller one shot an annoyed glance at his colleague, then motioned at him. “This is James Lyst, and my name’s Daniel O’Donnell. He’s very... task oriented, to put it mildly. Try to be patient with him, if you can.”

“How do y’all know all this-- Bell.” The stalker deflated and slumped on the concrete, recalling how poorly the exam had gone. “Must be bad, if the Good Doc thought he had to toss me into somebody else’s care. I, I, I, I. I’m dead, yeah? Thought so. Y’all must be morticians, with my luck.”

His features sympathetic, O’Donnell’s nod turned into a shake of the head.

“We’re chemists. Well, a chemical engineer and a pharmacist. And we currently have you under supervision for the sequelae of your toxic waste exposure. Between access and the square footage to house it, our facility is better suited to accommodate whatever diagnostics we determine can assess your health.”

“It’s a momentous occasion, really,” Lyst continued with a grin of large teeth, in an affected lyricism which seemed typical of him. “A new class of metahuman. Really, you’re something special, Galen.”

Galen struggled to keep up.

“Metahuman? My DNA’s all screwy now? This didn’t happen cause a street chems. This was a buncha drums a truck. They. They fell on me an’ broke an’ I was trapped to where I. I think I inhaled and swallowed a buncha it.” He flinched from trying to piece together details, and shoved down his tic as hard as he could. Something about these two felt more trustworthy and candid than Bell had, but he couldn’t place why. “If y’need me to remember the exact names of every thing that bust open an’ drowned me... you’re S.O.L. ‘cause I. I. --I wasn’t payin’ attention t’that kinda stuff at the time.”

Lyst and O’Donnell listened attentively, but it was Lyst who spoke up.

“You don’t need to remember all that right now. It’s quite all right. But yes, metahuman. I’d suspect you’d know what a metahuman is through some knowledge of Ketonamil, considering its prevalence in casual Quarter use, or perhaps through the politics of hybrids, but based on our current knowledge of your predicament, we both doubt any of either related substance was present on site where the exposure took place. And although a number of different chemicals can induce metahumanity, in the history of the one we suspect... there haven’t been any who took exposure with such resilience as you have.”

Galen balked, increasingly nettled by the metal around his wrists.

“Wouldn’t call it resilience. --Are the handcuffs necessary? Course they are. Y’all had t’drug me to get me here. No tellin’ what my reaction could’a been. Forget it.”

“We’re to understand it’s for your own protection as well.” O’Donnell frowned. “You have compulsion troubles?”

“I get hungry. Brain’s slagged.” He turned over, away from them. “It’s... hard t’get comfortable. Not for the floor. ‘Cause the cuffs. ...Can I say somethin’ weird?”

“I’m sorry to hear the restraints are making comfort difficult. We’ll work on that. Are they on too tight? What’s on your mind?”

“...These handcuffs.” Galen jammed his tongue up in the roof of his mouth and squinted. “...Metal. I get y’all not trustin’ me, but can we maybe not do metal? S’not the cuffs hurt. S’that...”

“What is it? You can speak with us without consequence.”

“...S’makin’ me hungry. Don’t get how, but it’s like I, I, can smell ‘em. Metal’s been drivin’ me loon. An’ with my hands behind me. Sure y’got cameras in here or some truck. Couldn’t sleep, for tryin’ t’get at ‘em.”

“Fascinating...!” Lyst had to sit down at this. “It’s affected your sensory acuity as well?”

O’Donnell dismissed the callous commentary with a cough.

“Trying to sleep with a loud appetite can’t be working well for you.” He ignored his colleague. “We’re going to try to make this arrangement as easy on you as possible. I’ll look into it personally this afternoon.”

“You must be ravenous.” Lyst leaned in to coax Galen’s eye contact, without succeeding. “It’s been a while since you were brought here.”

“Don’t remember last time I wasn’t. Not since--”

“A healthy appetite isn’t always a bad thing.” He patted Galen’s shoulder. “What would you like us to bring you? Within reason, of course. Our budget won’t allow for steak dinners.”

Galen just lay there for a moment, in a double-take.

“I don’t get y’sense a humor. That was a joke right? He was jokin’?”

“We’ll get you whatever you like,” O’Donnell insisted, increasingly exasperated with Lyst. “Burger Block? Chick Digs? King Pho? A pizza?”

Another long silence.

“Y’too, then. Let’s get somethin’ crystal here. Last I tried t’eat food, threw up. Out every end. Know y’all don’t wanna clean that up, an’ I ain’t inclined to it neither.”

“Do you remember the last thing you ate, out of curiosity?”

“A bottle a iodine. Buncha those lil’ funnel things the doc sticks in y’ear. I dunno, was a little stressed out at the Clinic.”

“Food, Galen. Not the compulsions. Stay with me here.”

The stalker let out a shrill bark, unmoving.

“Been weeks since I ate food, doc. ‘Fore ‘Piphany. Can we--” He fidgeted with his wrists and swallowed his saliva.

“Which of us has the smart sense of humor here again?” Lyst rolled his eyes.

“Y’think I’m slaggin’ y’all? Bring me Burger Block. Don’t say I didn’t warn ya. Can we, maybe--” More squirming.

“If not... food... then what? The offer still stands, to get you anything within reason.”

“--I want these slagGIN’ HANDCUFFS--”

Almost in tears, Galen rolled on his face and tugged at the cuffs until his wrists were raw. The two men scrambled to each take one upper arm in hand and steady the boy.

“Cool it, cool it.” O’Donnell made hushing noises as he fished the key out of his pocket. “Stop squirming and I can-- Here-- wait, that’s not--”

The instant the cuffs were off, Galen wrestled out of their grip and snatched the restraining tool from them. They vanished down his throat in a series of curled links, and he lay back and stared at the ceiling with mental clarity afterward, hands laced on his stomach. Despite having contended with the offending article, an odor still divided Galen’s attention.

The scientists failed to hide their alarm.

“...You’ve... certainly done that before,” Lyst commented.

“Told ya I wanted ‘em. Nah. If y’makin’ a point f’me not, not chewin’. Y’couldn’t chew metal neither.”

“To your understanding, do you digest it slower or the same? The metal?”

“...Faster, t’be fair. A lot fastern’ what I think makes any sense. Paint. That’s what I’m smellin’, fresh paint. I...”

Lyst and O’Donnell glanced to each other.

“The lobby was being renovated earlier this week. Do you... you want paint?” Lyst looked at O’Donnell again, making sure he’d heard Galen right. “How-- how is he able to--”

“You’re able to smell the fresh paint upstairs?”

“Y’just seen me swallow handcuffs. Wouldn’t be weird as that, bringin’ me a bucket a paint, yeah?”

“You see that look in his eye.” Lyst wagged a finger at the flightiness Galen couldn’t quite shove down. “He’s just as overwhelmed by this as we are.”

“James, shush. It’s our job to figure this out, not shrink him. Besides, don’t you think it’s fair for him to be confused and disoriented? Clearly this condition has altered his perception in some way.”

“I’m right here, y’know. ...Will y-- will y’bring it? A bucket? Or a coupla cans?”

“Will that tide you over? We won’t be coming back to check on you until tomorrow.”

Entertaining his own warping appetites felt ill-advised at best.

“Ss, somethin’ plastic, maybe? Dunno. Don’t think ahead to well with it, jus’ makes me wanna eat it all at once if I do. Y’all haven’t got any books, yeah? It’s... borin’ in here.”

O’Donnell smiled, and helped his colleague up as they both stood to leave.

“We’ll see what we can do.”

Before Galen knew it, he was alone with himself again, the inception of the commonality of intermittent solitude. He didn’t catch how the door worked.

▼▼▼▼▼▼▼▼▼▼

A rough boot to the butt jolted Galen awake, and he rolled over in anticipation for a fight, but his fists and gaze stiffened where he lay in confusion when he saw a stranger joined him. The man pulled a folding chair across the concrete floor and unfolded it with a series of rusty creaks, purposefully generating nuisance, and he sat mere feet from Galen with a big paper bag with its top rolled over. Younger than the two scientists, he had long grey-blond hair with the top half pulled back, angular features, and a white neoprene jumpsuit. Galen could tell by smell alone the bag contained fast food. Burger Block. Queasy, his fists and face drooped.

The man set down a fountain drink to one side of him, and fished out a hamburger piled up with vegetables. He tore into it with a diligent politic, seemingly less for keeping it off his uniform and more for some obligation to etiquette. After a few bites, once he was sure Galen had thought he was ignoring him, he jammed the burger right under his nose with a curious brow.

“--I, what, no.”

Galen moved to squirm away, but from where he sat the man pinned him down by the inner thigh with one foot. The man pressed down harder on Galen’s leg, until the treads of the boot dragged his flesh through the thin pajama pants. The stalker winced, and the man offered again by holding it there.

“I, I, I, I, I, I--” Galen swallowed, trying not to tremble. "--Can’t eat that.”

The man sat up straight and pulled off the bun to glance coolly back and forth between the bun and toppings.

“Educated guess whether you were a mustard or pink sauce kind of dreg.” He put the sandwich back together and took another bite. “Couldn’t exactly take your order, you know.”

“Are you... with those two guys from before? Lyst an’ O’Donnell?”

“You could say that.” The man shoved the food against Galen’s mouth this time, smearing mustard at the corner of the stalker’s mouth as he sustained unblinking eye contact. “If you don’t eat, going hungry will be the least of your worries.”

Galen grabbed him by the wrists, and the man allowed it.

“I, ii, if you were with those guys, you’d know s’got nothin’ t’do with whether I like mus--”

The man had only let Galen talk to get his mouth open, and jammed the burger in, even once the rest met Galen’s gnashed teeth. The mixture of bread, meat, lettuce, tomato, onion, and mustard elicited the same revulsion as a wad of hair in his mouth. With Galen caught off guard, the man pulled one hand away easily and used it to steady the shaven backside of Galen’s head so he could continue forcing more burger. Galen’s hands flew up to pry the salty oil and veggies away from his face, but it did little good save scatter a bit of lettuce.

“Chew. Swallow. Repeat. Stop being difficult. Didn’t anybody teach you how to eat? Don’t make me help you the entire way. I don’t get paid enough to babysit.”

Galen could smell the man’s holstered gun through the assault of fast food smells right under his nose, and opted not to argue. But these mutations, if that’s what was really going on... they’d given him such trouble stomaching anything... Still, it couldn’t be worse to resume being bathroom-ridden, than to second-guess the man’s disposition. So, he swallowed. He pulled the burger out of the man’s hands and shoved the whole thing in his mouth, and after the same level of mental preparation as taking a large pill, he swallowed whole what was left of it, just to get it over with.

Feigning he wasn’t shaking at the display, the man unstuck by letting go and offering up the soda.

“Supposin’ I can’t just say no thanks.” Without objecting beyond that, Galen popped the lid and used it to skim the ice as he chugged down the soda. He withheld comment as to the rising temperature in his gut. He ate the straw to satisfy his spite, and roll-folded the lid into his mouth too. “Don’t get what y’want.”

Rather than answer verbally, the man produced his reader from his breast pocket, and pointed in demonstration to the tiny, brightly colored cubes visible in the clear tray door on the edge of it. Heavy-lidded and matter-of-fact, he opened a recording on one of the cubes, and it lit up a pale green when he began playback.

“--Y’think I’m slaggin’ y’all? Bring me Burger Block. Don’t say I d--”

The man played it back a few times, watching contentedly as the look on Galen’s face melted from physical displeasure to disoriented grief. Galen wasn’t used to hearing his own voice, and it didn’t even click at first that it was his. Why the hell did this guy have a recording of Galen? His head ran hot and cold at once, and sweat wrought him clammy all over. Then it registered for the stalker, that this guy likely had a recording of the entire conversation he’d had with the scientists earlier. A scientist jealous of hearing of his rivals’ new work in progress? A security guard seemed the more likely explanation, but it felt like too simple of one to explain potential motives for this behavior. The more his stomach churned, the less he could focus.

Eventually, the whole thing spilled out across the floor in a charred effervescent mess. The man moved a foot aside to avoid the splatter, and his skin crawled to observe that the stomach acid actively dissolved the varnish of the polished concrete. His lip curled at the display to bare a gold incisor. He stood and pushed over the limp stalker with a small nudge, then retrieved the paper garbage to leave.

“You’re to follow all instructions to the letter. Nod if you hear me.”

A small nod, as Galen tried very hard to ignore the near-garlicky rancid stench of his stomach contents digesting the flooring beside him. He clutched his stomach, still cramping despite how much better he felt without the offending stuff inside him. Half-consciously, he felt grateful that it had come out before it had hit his intestines.

“That’s how you show gratitude for people going out of their way to extend a little kindness to you? That’s filthy, you know. Absolutely filthy.”

Galen nearly blurted out well it’s your fault, I told you exactly what’d happen. When he glanced up, he understood he’d have said it to no one: the man had already left.

“...I know.”

▼▼▼▼▼▼▼▼▼▼

The door opened and shut, and a pair of shoes approached Galen, who’d curled up into one corner, lost in doldrums over the conviction that his family would not want him back until he was stable.

“Good morning,” O’Donnell started. “I brought you the paint you requested.”

He looked up over his shoulder to see the chemist had come alone, and he rolled over to sit up. When O’Donnell sheepishly handed him the can, he readily took it, but tucked it into his lap.

“Thanks.” He shied from eye contact.

“...Oh! You must be upset because you didn’t just ask for paint. Fret not.” O’Donnell reached into the hip pocket of his lab coat, and produced a reader and held it out to him. “You asked for books. I wasn’t sure what you might like, so I just downloaded a mess of things. You’re free to download whatever you like. The reader’s registered with the Central server.”

Galen stared at the device, and didn’t know how to respond to being offered such a thing. When he’d asked for books, he’d thought asking for a book would produce the physical copy of something, not a reader. He’d never had a reader to himself--the whole family had shared one, and Vana used it more than anybody. The irony was not lost on Galen, either, that O’Donnell had outfitted the thing with an impact-resistant protective case. Maybe this had been the man in white’s idea: a test of whether Galen could keep himself from eating something, when overcoming the compulsion would reward him by providing mental stimulation and alleviating isolation.

He caught himself glaring at the dark glassy stain in the floor and took the reader from O’Donnell.

“Y’all are... too generous. Don’t deserve this kindness.”

The chemist frowned at the sentiment.

“It’s the least we can do for you. You’ve been through so much already, and we haven’t even gotten to your diagnostics screening.”

Galen tapped the power button on the side and flicked the screen on. The navigation keypad along the bottom edge befuddled him and he pecked at it.

“Can I... ask a stupid question?”

“I don’t imagine it’s very stupid.”

“Has this place got security guards?”

O’Donnell crouched to be closer to the boy’s eye level where he sat in the floor, and tried to determine how to answer based on what reason Galen could possibly have for asking such a thing.

“This building is very secure. We have several guards, and extensive surveillance.”

“An’ their uniform, it’s an all white suit? Grey edges?”

The chemist’s eyes narrowed, brow shifting from scrutiny to concern.

“Why? Did one of them come in here?”

Again, Galen glanced at the vitreous slurry-stain. Left unattended, the stomach enzymes had reduced the food to carbon, and the mess had dissipated into the melted glass before the enzymes lost their potency and let the whole thing set up like it had been there all along. A lump formed in his throat.

“Long, greyish hair? But not all that old, I guess? Gold tooth. He’s one of yours, yeah?”

The chemist’s features flattened in a squint for a moment, but he reached out to hold Galen’s shoulders to look him in the eye.

“That’s... Michael. What did he want?”

“...Dunno.”

“Galen, I meant it when I said you could speak to us without consequence. The guards aren’t permitted in here unless they’re accompanying Lyst or me. No one but James and I have clearance to get in here. Did he say anything to you?”

Follow all instructions to the letter.

Galen shook his head and opened the first book he could click on.

“Thought it was weird, is all, that he wasn’t with you guys.” He tried to look like he had gotten absorbed in the romance novel, uninterested in conversation. “Guess he wasn’t supposed to be.”

“No. No, he wasn’t. Will you be all right for another day or so? We had to rent out a lot of the machines we need to run your diagnostics, but they won’t be here until tomorrow.”

“I’m fine.”

The flat affect indicated otherwise, but O’Donnell didn’t press him further.

“Please tell Lyst or me if Michael, or anyone else, comes in here again. You don’t have to go into detail, if you don’t want. But I promise you that the two of us want to keep you safe. If Michael doesn’t make you feel safe, neither of us want that.”

Galen didn’t have a response.

▼▼▼▼▼▼▼▼▼▼

Galen flinched when Lyst and O’Donnell next visited, and withdrew into the corner before either could even greet him. The paint, can and all, had vanished, as had the reader. Balled up inside his head, he upset himself all over again over his own lack of self-control.

“I, I, I, I, I-- couldn’t help it--” He swallowed hard, trembling. “There’s gotta be a way t’make it up t’ya somehow.”

“You... how did you...” Lyst uncrossed his arms, and was looking around the room for proof he was wrong. He didn’t find any. “How did you eat the reader? --And the can?”

“I--” He looked to O’Donnell for an affirmation that it was okay to speak. “Ss, sssuck on it ‘til it melts. Like candy, or s, somethin’, I guess...”

“Incredible.” Lyst dropped all incredulity, now again fascinated. “Really, though, Galen. If you’d known you were going to eat it, you could have simply asked for an old, broken reader. It would have been fine to ask for that.”

“I-- I thought y’was gonna bring me a paper book. Know it sounds real sorry of me t’say, but... I forgot readers could even have books.”

“I don’t know that our budget could allow for antiques like that.” As tactfully as possible, O’Donnell asked, “You mean to say you don’t think you would have any compulsion to eat paper?”

“Haven’t had one so far. Not that I noticed.” Galen sighed and stared at their shoes in dejection, trying not to remember how the security guard had removed all the paper from the room on his way out when he’d been there. “I... get y’all not entrustin’ me with antiques. It was dumb of me t’even ask. Knew better. I ate my own damn e-cig, an’ Walkman, and--”

“Hey, now.” Lyst wagged a gracious finger at him. “You needn’t beat yourself up. So you had an expensive meal. It’s quite all right. Part of this is learning how your appetite works, little Galen. Galenula. Hhn.” He grinned, scrunching his nose.

“You finished off that can of paint in no time,” O’Donnell began. “We expected it to tide you over for at least a day, but that’s clearly not the case. Do we need to bring you larger, ah, servings? It’s difficult to bring things more frequently, but if we need to figure out how to schedule that, we will.”

“Metal.” Galen got doe-eyed at having blurted out the craving, envisioning what a larger serving might resemble. “Lots a metal. Computer parts if y'can.”

O’Donnell smiled, able to get their subject on a thought which seemed to calm him.

“We’ll see what we can do. In the mean time, Galen, we did come today for more than to just see you... We can start one set of tests this afternoon, if you’re up for it.”

Galen shook his head in dismissal that he could tell them no, and stood compliant.

“Whatever you need of me.”

Lyst left the room long enough to wheel in a small cart with two trays on top. In one surgical tray lay a fistful of stoppered vials, while in the other lay a variety of tubing and sterile-packaged implements. O’Donnell retrieved a pair of folding chairs once his colleague had returned, as not to leave Galen unattended with the door unlocked, and set them out opposite one another next to the cart.

“A blood panel.” The pharmacist refrained from mentioning even anecdotally that it had been since college that he’d had any phlebotomy practice. “A rather extensive one, I’m afraid. I’ll be gentle.”

“Drawin’ blood? Don’t bother me any.” Galen sat in the chair Lyst did not, and already found himself eyeing the glass on the tray. “One of y’gonna hold me?”

“If it’ll make you feel better, I’m right behind you,” O’Donnell reassured, both hands on the back of the folding chair.

“First, vitals.”

Lyst produced a sphygmomanometer from a drawer in the cart. He wrapped the cuff around Galen’s upper arm, then depressed the auto-inflate mechanism so that the gauge pressed against his antecubital fold could take the composite measure of the boy’s blood pressure. With a holographic chirp, it annotated the measurement, and Lyst let the pressure out of the instrument and put it away. He got the infrared thermometer from the drawer next, and waved it over Galen’s forehead twice, and annotated its measure as well. Then, from the bottom drawer, the pharmacist set out a scale between the two of them, and suggested Galen stand on it. The only measure Galen saw for himself, it registered 81.6kg. The stalker never really had dealt much with metric, and he sat back down.

“Hm.”

“Hmm?” Hoping for an understanding, Galen looked expectantly to Lyst, who kept tapping away at calculations and annotations, then up behind him to O’Donnell, who also watched Lyst.

“How tall are you?” Lyst asked.

“Five-five. ‘Bout 130, last I checked.”

“Closer... to 180 pounds, it seems. Bell gave us his patient chart data when we overtook your care. You weigh nearly 82 kilo today. That’s about twenty-five kilo over what you should reasonably weigh. But, clearly you’re not overweight. Just... over what you ought to weigh.”

“He means to say, that kind of weight would normally factor as fat,” O’Donnell translated, concealing how wild his mind went with speculation. “Something internal has to be denser. The chemical composition of your muscles, perhaps. Or your bone mass.”

“Diagnostics will better inform us than any speculation.” Lyst put on a pair of latex gloves with minor flourish. “Now, Galenula, offer up an arm. And ball up a fist for me.”

When Galen did as instructed, Lyst gingerly tourniqueted it with a length of yellow rubber. The bespectacled pharmacist then cradled the elbow and palpated for a good artery. He took an alcohol-soaked poly swab to sterilize the area, then tapped at the resultant blood vessels again to test them to satisfaction. He nodded to himself, and unwrapped the catheter needle. Then he looked over his glasses up at Galen, who watched attentively all the while, then proceeded to eyeball exactly where to stick.

“I’m going to count to three, and you’ll feel a pinch, all right?”

Galen nodded. He had to look away, but it didn’t hurt too badly. Bell had hurt worse, he recalled, the doctor seemingly more compelled by speed and efficiency than avoiding exacting pain in the process. The stalker only looked down again once Lyst had snapped the first vial into place over the open tip of the tubing. Something about it felt wrong, and Galen tried not to squirm.

“...Shouldn’t it... be... red...?”

Rather than blood, a bright orange substance filled the vial.

“It wasn’t this color when Dr. Bell drew it?”

“...No...”

Lyst soon switched out the first vial for the second, going down the line. Some vials already contained something with which the blood was to interact, and one of these popped within a minute of the pharmacist setting it down on the tray. The burst startled all three of them, and Galen cried out when Lyst pulled the needle out and pressed down with a fresh poly swab, rather than accidentally jam the catheter further in. They all stared at the tray, wary that the others might follow suit. Galen nudged the caster-wheeled cart with his toe, to push it further away from all of them.

“I... only got seven of the eight vials drawn, but I think it’s safe to say that one wouldn’t have been a viable test sample.” Still holding the boy’s arm to apply pressure, he chuckled at how Galen had done what all three of them had thought of doing. “It’s fine. We got almost all of them, and these will definitely give us much information to work with. I won’t terrorize you further right now.”

Eyes glazed in revulsion, Galen couldn’t stop staring at the vials, many of which had turned nearly neon.

“That... that ain’t blood. Ain’t my blood.”

“It came out of your veins, Galen,” O’Donnell soothed, putting his hands to Galen’s shoulders. “The tests will tell us whether it’s supposed to be there.”

“It’s going to be all right,” Lyst seconded. “Once I get the chance to send off this panel to the lab, we’ll be sure to come right back with something you’ll like.”

“--Hhmetal,” Galen reflexively repeated, transfixed upon the fluid in the glass.

“Yes, yes. We know. Hm! You liked paint. Would you like soap as well, perhaps?”

“Soap sounds nice,” he agreed, becalmed by the idea of eating.

Lyst applied a patch of paper tape over the poly swab, and let go finally.

“Soap. And something metal. Absolutely.”

The pharmacist collected up all the vials into a foam-lined medical-grade mailer carton. From what Galen could tell as he watched, it wasn’t at all unlike a test tube rack fitted inside there, and it seemed to have thermal insulation to keep it within a certain range, as well. He noticed the side of the carton read BF Meehl before it vanished safely into the cart drawer, and Lyst tucked all the remainder of nonsense into the sharps bin in another drawer. O’Donnell patted Galen on the shoulder reassuringly, to shake him out of his stupor enough that he’d notice them leave.

“I’ll come and check on you in about an hour, all right?”

Galen took the shoulder pat as urging to stand so the scientists could retrieve the chair, then he returned to his favored corner next to the bathroom.

“Yeah. ...Thanks, any rate.”

He watched them exit, and observed this time the door opened in a series of magnetic buzzing. Maybe the security guard was watching the whole time, and let them in and out.

Once they were gone, he stared down at the taped poly swab, and forcing himself to take a nap was the only thing that kept him from ripping it off to see if the catheter had gotten out all the orange stuff.

[bubblerainz]

“Maybe dreams aren’t in your head. Maybe dreams are memories of another universe.”

Dreams.

Such a weird phenomenon when you think about it. Nobody really knows why we dream or how it really works. Ever since I was a young girl dreams would fascinate me and I often had vivid and detailed dreams that I couldn't forget for years afterward. I remember waking up from a dream once, crying because I thought that the dream world was a better place than reality. 

One time I had a dream in which I met this one person that I fell madly in love with. It was the kind of love I had never felt for another person in real life, didn't know I was even capable of feeling, and as the dream progressed so did my feelings. I later came to the conclusion that it must have been my soulmate that I was meeting in the dream. Though I can't remember the persons face now, years later, I remember being shocked at the time at how detailed both the person's appearance and the surroundings were. It's worth mentioning that I'm a lucid dreamer, meaning I can control parts of my dream, something I have trained myself to be so it helps with remembering dreams and details. When my alarm woke me up that morning, I felt heartbroken and disoriented. It felt as if there was a hollow space left in my chest and I started crying. Confused and sad I started writing down what I could remember, feeling as though I had lost the love of my life. I never dreamed of them again.

That was not the first time I have had vivid dreams of that kind, far from it. I often wake up from very intense dreams feeling exhausted and a little more empty than before I went to sleep. It doesn't help that I have been battling with depression and anxiety since I was around eight years old. During my second year of high school my depression worsened and I ended up skipping school for  two months. At the time I was living with my dad who went to work early in the morning and had no idea I spent my days sleeping in my bed. This is a time I remember clearly as both the worst period in my life but also as the best, as strange as that sounds. I would wake up early, to at least make it seem like I was trying to go to school (who was I trying to fool, really), call in sick and go right back to sleep. My dreams at the time were all over the place and waking up was a hard task. I would sleep until evening, drag myself up to eat a banana and then go right back to bed. I felt as if I was wasting away to nothing. The only highlight was when I would lie in bed for hours making up different scenarios in my head until I fell asleep, and if I was lucky the dreams would continue from where my thoughts left off. In the dreams I felt alive in a way I didn't in real life. It was my escape from reality, my blanket a shield from the outside world, and I wished my body would magically disappear with me into the dreams so that I could stay there.

I think some sort of breaking point for me was when I found a fanfic (Nocturna Suppressio by Purpleskies) where the main character, who is depressed, starts having strangely real dreams about a mysterious boy who take him on adventures. He would wake up feeling the same way I felt after dreaming about my 'soulmate' and he slowly starts falling asleep at strange places and times, almost as if he was narcoleptic. Starting to fall in love with the boy in his dreams he find himself yearning to go back to sleep every time he is woken up. His friends become worried after seeing the dark circles under his eyes and note that his skin has become pale, translucent almost. Long story short, (spoilers ahead) it turns out the boy in his dreams is a demon feeding on the energy of depressed and suicidal people in their sleep, but as he starts falling for the main character he wants to protect him from himself and the world he lives in, which isn’t the happy place it seems to be. The main character's body slowly starts disappearing from the real world, hence the translucent-looking skin, into the dream world. What hit me the most was how the the main character doesn't fight it when he finds out what is happening, instead taking desperate and dangerous measures, like sleeping pills, as to not be woken up while dreaming. I could relate so much to his struggle and the story has stuck with me since then.

Every once in a while, especially when my depression hits me hard I go back to read that story again. I haven't found anyone who has been able to relate to all of this yet, not in the same way at least. I have spent hours asking people on the internet if anyone has had the same experience with dreams or if there is somebody out there who feeling the same way I do about this but to no avail. I have been wanting to write about this for a while now and it's mostly just me rambling and ironically enough I should go to sleep soon because I have school tomorrow.

Dreams have helped me out a lot while dealing with depression but it has also made it worse at the same time. It's hard to convince yourself to get out of bed and start living your actual life when you have a warm bed and a better alternate universe waiting for you when you close your eyes. My dreams are my best friend and biggest enemy. During the months I skipped school I truly felt like an addict, but instead of alcohol (which is how I usually deal with everything these days) I just slept. When I slept nothing could hurt me, no one could nag me to eat or do homework. No mirror would tell me how disgusting I was or how I should just do everyone a favor and die. It was a dangerously nice place and getting out of it was hard but I managed. Even today I have to be careful not to sleep or dream too much because I have been close to letting sleep drag me under too many times. 

[cylovesrain]

Memories come and go, but they never fade.

Tonight reminded me of how i should never expect overly too much from others. You are right, and i am wrong. I'm wrong because i expected what i shouldn't have. I am upset because i care about you. But i'm not really upset mainly because of you, or because of whatever. I'm upset because it reminds me of everything i did in the past, to make me the person i am today. I'm upset because life is ironic sometimes. Ever since i was a kid, i've been blessed with a loving family. But i also had to deal with seeing others suffer from a young age. My own brother, sick, others, with mental health problems and various disorders. I was exposed to seeing this side of life in others ever since young. This bitter side, that i cannot forget. I remember going overseas to treat my brother's illness, fighting with others in the playground to protect him. I saw others suffering from a young age. That made me emphathetic towards others, but bitter as well. I didn't understand why i couldn't have a normal childhood. I wasn't allowed to sniff around my brother or even chew loudly because it would set his tourette syndrome's tics off. I kept my feelings to myself since young. I was bullied for 6 years in primary school and never told my parents or anyone. I dared not because i think deep down i felt they had enough to deal with. I wanted to be a good kid, to save them problems. I love my parents, they have been great to me and we share a good relationship. But all these things that happened made me reserved and shy. I developed the habit of keeping to myself. Just to specify, i was NEVER born this way. I was actually a active and happy kid. But i learnt to keep to myself. I didn't want to trouble those i loved with any of my problems. Till this day, i still feel this way. Because of this, i started seeking love elsewhere. I looked for love in the wrong places, at the wrong age, at the wrong time. This was probably the most damaging to me in the long run. Initially, things were alright. I got hurt and would move on. But one relationship really struck me real bad. In that one relationship, I experienced what it was like to give all you can and not receive what you hope for deep down inside. It was toxic. I fell into depression because of it. We broke up 3 times and EACH time i begged to get back together because i "loved him". He made me feel like i had no dignity, no self. I was even stupidly willing to deny my own God, my religion for some guy who would never love me the way i wanted. Now i see that it was the wrong choice, wrong time. Nevertheless, it hurt. That was the relationship which killed almost all my trust in relationships. I got so depressed i tried to overdose on medication. A stupid decision, because I ended up in hospital and I insisted on leaving the hospital early because he couldn't visit me in the hospital. I couldn't walk for a week afterwards because of the overdose. I was giddy, sick and disoriented. I was not normal, basically. Eventually the relationship ended, and I ended back in hospital one more time. This time i was forced to stay in one in case i went to kill myself. Reflecting upon it, how much i hurt my family, who were with me through it all, must have been horrible. I know it sounds dramatic, but that's what i was. I just didn't know how to handle my emotions in the right way. In my defense, i was also emotionally manipulated, but i could have left the relationship earlier. While in the hospital, I cried till my eyes had scars on them. My friend even thought i put mascara, that's how shitty i looked. Knowing that i was in hospital, he never came to see me, not even once. I remember how painful it was. I was given stupid antidepressants everyday and till today I STILL CANT change my medicine habits of taking meds for small things (and its also how my IBS stomach issues started) After getting out of the hospital, i went through a time where i would date just about anyone because i was so damn desperate to forget my pain. I ended up with someone who i later realised i never even loved. I thought that being close with some one in certain ways would mean i would receive love. But later i realized this was not true. Then one day, i met my current boyfriend and the person i love. He helped me out of my depression. He was the one to give me my confidence where i had lost all of it. He did not become my confidence, but he showed me that i had many good points and was worthy of love, unlike what my previous boyfriend had showed me. He accepted my past, my hurt and the fact that i might not be able to love like i used to again. I will always be grateful and love him for that, for being there for me always during my toughest times. Our relationship has had ups and downs, but i know we love one another, no one is faultless and we both try our best to love as best as we can. Anyway back to the topic, so my bad experiences with people generally made me really wary and closed up to myself. It scares me to open up to others, because of the fear that things will turn out bad. I don't initiate friendships, for fear of being rejected. (also partly cause i got overly high expectations of people which i know is bad cause i got alot of issues myself, i am well aware) Therefore I'm generally a lonely person, i keep my issues to myself and don't open up to people just anyhow, because I can't. Unfortunately, this means when i do have the chance to have a few friendships, i put in more effort and care more (in some cases get confused and care more than i should i suppose?) Which you are right, is probably a bad thing became im too emotionally involved. Even in my current relationship, fully being vulnerable is a great challenge to me. I feel like i always have to be on my guard, for fear of getting hurt. I know it might seem silly, but its just how i feel. So when you asked me if i'll be alright, i will. But i just wanted to write down how i feel and explain why i feel this way. Things may be clear to a lot of people. But everyone is a different person, with different experiences. To be honest, i've already changed a lot these few years. But sometimes i can't help but feel lonely-depending more on a few friendships, and confusing things in process. It hasn't been easy for me these couple years too. I've lost a lot that mattered to me, including my health and it has taken alot to get my life back together (2 years, to be exact). I'm not writing this in hope of pity from anyone, but simply for understanding. Some things aren't so black and white, and cannot be easily determined. I know i was wrong in getting confused and expecting more than I should've, honestly, but i also felt i needed to say why i am this way. ( its definitely not towards all my friends ) so i cannot explain fully why either, but i hope some part of what i said at least explains part of me or why i behave the way i do. I can't explain everything, but i just felt i needed to write down how i feel. These thoughts have been stuck inside my heart for years and honestly either than my bf and two other close friends no one even knows. One of the reasons i've returned to Church is because i've finally realised we can only place our full hope in God, and trust him in all difficulties. I hope that no matter what happens, he will be with me, to guide, comfort, love me. Alright so that's the end of that. Just needed to get this off my chest. I've been holding it in long enough anyway😅 And really, I have no hard feelings towards anyone. It is just a reflection of me and a chance for me to say how i feel and why.