#mental illness can go fuck itself

[the-palelady]

hi sirinn 💕

it’s been a rough week. was wondering’ if i could request some soft simon? maybe helping his so through a tough time?

love you bunches, hope you’re taking care of yourself!

i feel like this week has been rough for a lot of people. i hope you're resting, staying hydrated, and just taking care of yourself dear. i believe in you and so does simon of course ♡

you seemed to always hold a level head. it was rare for simon to see you falter, if at all. there was always a smile spread wide across your face, the apples of your cheeks pink, a sparkle in your eyes. your laughs would echo throughout your shared home whether it be from something simon had said, or something that you saw on the telly.

but today was not one of those days.

there was no sparkle in those eyes of yours, replaced with a tiredness that left dark bags under your eyes. you were slow moving when waking that morning, not putting much effort into your hair, and grabbing the first thing you found in your closet. your outfit was mismatched with khaki pants and a weird yellow blouse that simon had never seen you wear outside of the house.

your lips sat in a thin line, unmoving as you silently floated about your home like a phantom. there was no noise even as you packed your lunch for the day; not a peep as you slipped your shoes on and stepped out of the house.

and the second you left, simon got to work.

he knew you too well to know that you were just "fine", a word he had expected you to say if he had even dared approach you about the topic. he saw it in the way you slid along the house, slower than a snail as you got ready for work. he saw it in the dull look in your eyes, far too tired to even look up at him and whisper a simple "good morning".

it was late when you returned home. a later night than normal.

stepping inside of your home, you slipped off your shoes, placing them by the front door with a sigh, peeling away your armor piece by piece as you walked towards the living room.

you were met with the sight of a vase of flowers sitting front and center on the coffee table. white lilies to be exact. the smell of detergent hit your nostrils, and you noticed how clean the couch cushions looked from where you stood. the pillows were fluffed and placed in their respected corners.

the wood floors shined from being swept and mopped, reflecting the soft glow of the overhead light. the tv played one of your favorite shows that you always turned on when you wanted some background noise or needed comfort. the bookshelves beside the entertainment center had clearly been dusted, yours and simon's books organized in alphabetical order. just how you liked them.

the subtle scent of garlic hit your senses after a moment, the smell and a voice breaking you from your thoughts.

"welcome home, love."

your widened eyes darted up to meet simon's pools of amber. the corner of his lips were upturned in a slight smile, one meant only for you.

"hungry?"

your mouth opened and closed as you tried to speak, but nothing came out.

truthfully, you were shocked. simon did do chores around the house. he was fairly organized, clean, a simple man who didn't own too much. he always kept his space tidy. but sometimes things got out of hand, and lately it had been hard for you to keep up with the mess. your workload had been tripled. you had personal issues going on in your life that were difficult to discuss, even to simon.

over the course of a few weeks, you felt like you had been backed into a corner. alone and afraid. it seemed like the world had caved in around you, dragging you into a dark abyss that you felt stuck in.

yet despite that darkness there was a light that shined through, and he stood right in front of you, flour dusting his pale cheeks and an apron much too small for him wrapped around his waist.

your lips quivered. your eyes watered so quickly you couldn't hold back the tears that broke through the dam you had built over time.

but before the tears could break through, simon was at your side, wrapping you in the warmth of his body.

you were stubborn. you were independent, believing you could handle anything that came at you alone. however, right now you had to admit to yourself that you did need a shoulder to lean on. even for just a moment. so you leaned into simon's sturdy chest, letting your tears fall freely after all the time you had kept them bottled up.

"shh, love. don't worry. i'm 'ere."

he wiped at your tears. his warm hands glided along the crown of your head, flattening out the strands of hair that had grown messy throughout the day. you were sure you looked a fright, but simon seemed to care less.

"'m sorry," you hiccupped, tears staining his t-shirt.

"the hell ya sorry for, angel?"

"i-i-i shouldn't be crying o-o-over something so st—"

"'nough of that, yeah?" his gruff voice cut you off, but there was no maliciousness behind it. he loosened his grip on you, looking down into your teary eyes with an expression you had never seen from him.

"sometimes we 'ave bad days. everyone. myself included. we can't act strong all the time. s'alright ta need a shoulder ta lean on. ya don't need ta handle this alone. ya always there for everyone. always takin' the punches for everyone else. now let someone else take those punches, hm?

you felt your bottom lip wobble again, and when you didn't say anything simon hummed, his head tilting closer towards you.

"s'alright to cry. doesn't make ya weak. only proves that ya human. so let out those tears, dove. i'll hold ya until there's not a single drop left."

[definitelynotshouting]

HI. HELLO. SORRY. i heard we’re talking about hunger au + the others finding out about fucked up stuff that grian’s doing

i’m obsessed with the potions. in order to die (which he doesn’t even *want*, or at least doesnt think he wants, he just believes it’s the safest option) he has to corrupt his friends’ attempt to help him. healing potions have been like. the only thing he’s conceded on for his own comfort. tango is super excited when he learns about them bc 1. it’s something actionable and immediate thatll directly help, and 2. grian gets noticeably… not hopeful, exactly, but definitely more responsive the few times that they’re talking about the potions. which. i’m sure tango will feel really good about after the fact (assuming the plan happens).

and then mumbo overextended himself making a *gold farm* entirely for potions and pearl “got carried away” collecting netherrack. it’s so clearly a priority for them. how are they going to react when grian hurts himself using them?? when they find out that they don’t do anything notable in the first place *except* give him a way to hurt himself?? after potions almost killed him the FIRST time??????? augh. i think about it so much

(also i heard we could pick emojis so im picking 📞 ty <3)

You're more than welcome to pick an emoji!! :D i honestly love it, i love seeing regulars in my inbox its like having people wave at me from across the street whenever they send in asks hehe :]

Man, the potions..... yeah the potions are crazy dude, i can see why everyone is obsessed with them. I havent exactly made a post on this yet, but healing potions don't actually do anything for a Watcher's structural code (theyre designed for Player surface code specifically, so they arent even fully compatible with Watcher surface code), which makes him conceding on them even more painful, because the others are latching onto this single one opportunity to help and its not even actually helping. Its being used, in fact, to eventually hurt him. Nobody is gonna like that.

Im really glad how everyone's desperate attempts at getting the potion ingredients are being picked up on in fic, especially since those references been sorta randomly sprinkled in throughout the chapters (usually through dialogue). Yeah they are.. thats gonna be Fun when they find out the truth on that one >:] ive had the scene for that in mind for AGES and i cannot WAIT to finally get it out there for everyone to see, because man. Its gonna be visceral, i'll tell you that

Im so so glad you like what im doing here enough to be rotating it in your brain like this!!! :D i shake your hand we sit and spin the potions like rotisserie chicken

[toxifoxx]

i need my brain rewritten bro

[magentagalaxies]

.

[adamantine-ribbon]

i lowkey hate the schizophrenia subreddit

[hallucenati]

yknow im really tired of comparing myself to everything recently. people are happier w/o social media, people have more weight on them than me, people have better art styles, people are "more autistic" which isnt even a thing to compare, people are more /me/ than /me myself/ and i literally wonder "why do i care this much? people say theyre so happy but im happy the way i am? should i be happy like them?" and then i try and im like "i cant do this like them" and that makes me sad and i cant change some things about myself so it really just makes me wonder why i even try to change. i dont have to. im literally the best me /right now/ and the more i live the better me ill be. so like. why compare? im not trying to be not me anymore

[halinski]

.

[inkskinned]

i love my therapist but i hate being in therapy. 10 minutes before my appointment, i'm in a meeting with my boss - we discuss my artistic choices; my boss recommends i artistically choose less. 10 minutes after therapy, i wash my hair and think about everything that was said, and then i have to switch it off, like a lamp, and go back to work again.

i was on a walk the other day and someone had the perfect combination of his cologne and whatever-else. it was almost exactly his scent. i fucking hate that. after all these years, i remember that? i tell my therapist - i feel like a fucking wolf. try telling a middle-aged blonde lady. oh i scented him on the air. i'm 30, and i'm having a panic attack over something that would be a plotline in the omegaverse.

what they don't tell you about mental illness is that if you are lucky enough to survive it into adulthood; it becomes a weird slice of your life. because you do, eventually, have to build a life. i realized in a panic somewhere around 22 - oh. i don't know what i'm fucking doing, because i always assumed i'd just go ahead and die. i didn't die, and i'm grateful for that, and i'm very happy about that choice. but it does mean that i am an adult in an apartment, living with my conditions side-by-side like. oh, that's my roommate, adhd. ignore the glass, bytheway, that's ocd.

so you pick your stupid life up by the scruff of the neck and you're, like glad for it (so much laughter and light and friends you would have never thought possible, when you were in the worst of it). but it feels so strange to be dancing around these odd little microcosms, these patchwork moments of your symptoms. if you have a panic attack at night, you still need to wake up and walk the dog in the morning. if your depression is making everything boring, well, you don't have any sick days left, and a job's not really supposed to be that exciting anyway. your ocd tears out each individual leg hair, and then, an hour later, you sigh, patch up the bloody bits, and go get dinner with friends. and the life is kitten-quiet, mewling and pathetic, but it's also like - it's yours, so you're fond of it.

and it's like - you're real. so you still enjoy pushing the shopping cart really fast and then riding on the back of it down an empty aisle. and you're not, like, so sick anymore that when you accidentally drop a mug you burst into tears (except for the days you do that. which are bad). and no, you're not allowed around certain items anymore. oops! but you've learned to be good about brushing your teeth most days of the week. and yeah sometimes in the middle of the day you have a little freak-out about how fucking unfair it all is, how fucking hard, how other people can just do this without having to fucking hurt the whole time. and then you sigh and force yourself to sit down and fucking journal about it so you can tell the nice middle-aged blonde woman yeah i had a hard day but i practiced grounding. you still sometimes want to burst out of your own skin, but you force yourself to eat kind-of healthy and to take your vitamins. you let yourself chop off all your hair in the sink in a dramatic poetry of control and relief - and you also have developed good hobbies that help you move your body more frequently. you feel helplessly behind, lost in the shuffle - but you also practice gratitude, taking stock of what you have garnered. because you're trying. even if you're never gonna be normal, you have something... close enough.

and the little kitten of your life, this mangy, starlit tigercub, this thing you expected to rot so young: in your arms, it turns itself over, belly-up. exposing this new soft part, all the organs and guts. like it's saying i trust you now. you won't give me up.

[ellecdc]

Evan's little freak (affectionate)

prompt: There's something oddly comforting to me about how if I was freaking out about something and they were in their blitzed out state they'd help me calm down while sort of thinking I was a weird freak. - @moonstruckme

poly!rosekiller x fem!reader who is having some sort of mental breakdown [1k words]

CW: reader is having a quasi-panic attack, rosekiller do their best to help but they truly Don't Get It™, they think she's weird but love her anyway

Evan found himself very much unprepared and ill equipped to handle this right now. 

You’d come flying into the flat in a tizzy rambling on and on about some great injustice or upheaval in your life at a million miles an hour without hardly even sparing him or Barty a glance. 

Granted, the second blunt may have been a little much, but he generally did not know how to handle big emotions. The horrified and uncomfortable expression that Barty was wearing told Evan that he, at least, felt the same. Neither boy grew up exactly encouraged to feel their feelings out loud; pushing down all upset didn’t exactly lend itself well to empathy and compassion.

He wondered if he was simply imagining the heavy smoke in the room or if you were just oblivious to it; either way, you were clearly not on the same level as the two boys.

He’d come to the conclusion about two and a half minutes into your tangent that no one was dead or dying, and when he deduced that those were the only scenarios worth this amount of anxiety, he more or less sort of tuned you out; only registering the panicky quality of your voice.

Barty had tried calling your name a few times which only seemed to spur you on and cause Barty to look over at him in a bemused sort of concern. “What the fuck? Are you seeing this?” Barty seemed to be asking. 

I am seeing this, what the fuck, indeed.

“Sugar,” Evan tried in his most authoritative tone, hoping to hell that his words didn’t sound as slow and languid as the felt on his tongue, “you need to settle down.”

That had, apparently, been the wrong thing to say if the way you turned your body towards him with wild eyes and nearly shaking hands meant anything. 

“I can’t!” You shrieked, causing Barty to actually wince at the pitch your voice took. 

“But…why not?” Barty asked cautiously, and you burst into tears.

“Fuck me.” Evan groaned under his breath as he stamped out the end of his blunt; he was clearly done for the day. “Alright, hold on. Let me get my shit together so I can talk some sense into you. Calm down.” 

“I can’t.” You keened, Evan tsked at you. 

“Jesus Christ, you’re wild today.” He commented as he flung open the windows. Barty was already in the kitchen grabbing bottles of water and some snacks; following proper sober up protocol. 

Evan took the time to actually move the ashtray to the opposite side of the room, hoping to have as clear a head as he possibly could to deal with his wound tight little minx. Ruining his high by being all adorable and weird.  You were lucky you were so cute. 

“Treasure, you need to go sit down.” Barty murmured then as you seemed to be frozen in some sort of panicky fright in the centre of the kitchen. “Or maybe light up for a minute…” He added sarcastically under his breath. Unfortunately for Evan, you heard him.

“I can’t do that, Barty! I get paranoid!”

“As opposed to whatever you are right now?” Barty asked incredulously then, and you let out a gut wrenching sob. 

“Okay! Okay, fuckin’ hell. Come here.” Evan called as he sat back down in his chair and beckoned you forward with one impatient hand. 

“This is too much, Sugar.” He chided as he pulled you down onto his lap. “You’re going to make yourself sick.” 

“But-”

“Enough; your only job is to breathe right now, got it?” 

You sucked in a shuddering breath as you nodded; eyes squeezed shut, forcing a steady stream of tears down your cheeks. You looked pitiful. 

“He didn’t say to hold your breath.” Barty commented gently as he sat on an ottoman in front of Evan’s chair and tried to hand each of you a bottle of water - Evan took both. But the breath that escaped your lips was forceful and left you panting for more. “Oi! Not like that, hey. Deeper breaths, Tres.”

“Y/N. Relax, doll. Relax. You’re fine.” Evan chided; his hand resting on your lower back and his thumb drawing circles at the space between the top of your jeans and the bottom of your shirt gave way to skin.

The flat fell quiet save for the sound of your breathing - at first shuddering, then practised and intentional, and finally settling into a more natural cadence - as Evan drew lines up and down your back with one hand and drew circles with his thumb on your knee with the other, and Barty fiddled distractedly with your fingers. 

“I’m sorry.” You whimpered eventually, and both Evan and Barty let out sighs of relief. 

“That was fucking wild, Treasure. Absolutely deranged.” Barty scolded playfully, pulling your fingers to his lips for a kiss.

“Scared the shit out of me, Sugar. I thought someone was dying.” 

“I didn’t mean to worry you…” you offered shyly, shoulders curling in on yourself as if you sort of wanted to disappear. Evan pulled you roughly into his chest and stamped a kiss to your forehead. 

“I’m always worried about you, weird little freak.”

“I’m gonna need like, five more blunts after that. Do I have grey hairs? I feel like I have grey hair now. You’re ageing me, Treasure. You’re sending me to an early grave.” Though you clearly accepted Barty’s teasing for what it was when you returned his kiss fervently. 

“No more blunts.” Evan called as Barty moved to put on a record. “Next time she comes in like a bat out of hell, I would like to have our wits about us. Hm? Give us a fighting chance.” 

“So we’re rawdogging our way through life from now on? Alright, Ev; but if I start having meltdowns like our perfect little freak over there, you’ll have no one to blame but yourself!” 

“....Maybe one blunt a day?” Evan asked you when Barty disappeared around the corner; murmuring the question into the slightly damp hairs at your temple.

“Maybe so.” You agreed with a tired chuckle turned sigh. He couldn’t blame you; if he was tired after all of that, you must be exhausted.

[itsjusthockey]

Hughes Your Daddy? - Jack Hughes

hahahaha finally

enjoy

request

If I get 10+ comments/asks ill make a part 2

Yes, that's me bribing you, I want more interactions

w.c: 3,007 (credit to gif maker) (don’t steal my work)

Pt.2

The last few weeks of college are the worst weeks of a student's life. There’s nothing but studying, finals, and pure hell. Yet, when Ellen Hughes calls and tells you to get on a flight to Vancouver to be present at the Hughes Bowl, you fucking get on a flight to Vancouver.

The flight itself is terrific; you study a bit of your flashcards, drink some hot cocoa, and even get in a solid half-hour nap. You honestly feel a little sad when the intercoms go off, and they announce your descent into Canada.

The sadness washes away quickly when you clear the clouds and realize how excited you are. This trip, tomorrow’s game, is a very, very special event. Each Hughes brother will be playing on the ice tomorrow night, and you’ll be sitting, as requested, in the Hughes box overlooking it all.

As soon as the 737 touches down, you’re quick to switch your phone off airplane mode. You appreciated the few hours of bliss without endless notifications, but life has to go on. As soon as the iPhone gets service, a flood of messages rolls through. One from Ellen, to which you respond. Two from Quinn, which you answer. And 36 messages from Jack, which you ignore.

You should respond, and you will, but first, you have to get off the plane and find your favorite chauffeur.

Without further delay, you exit the plane, grabbing your carry-on and swinging your backpack over your shoulders. You smile at the few flight attendants on the way out and throw an extra thank you to the woman who gave you some extra cookies when she saw your flashcards.

The Vancouver airport is bustling, and you can’t help but feel the positive vibes radiating from the space. The entire airport is decorated for Christmas, and you’re reminded why it’s ranked one of the best airports in North America.

You make your way to the baggage claim, checking your phone to ensure you’re heading toward the right spot. You are, and while you’re walking, you pass all the cute little shops. You see a couple of little knickknacks, and you make a mental note to pick up something on your flight back. Now, however, you must focus.

The baggage claim area is pretty full, and you’re dodging people left and right. You’re unsure in the sea of people where Quinn might be hiding until you hear your name shouted from somewhere to your left. You turn your body, and there he is, waving a bit and standing with a small smile.

“Oh my god, is that Quinn Hughes?” You say in mock shock as you get within his earshot. “The newest captain of the Canucks and Vancouver's most precious gem?”

He rolls his eyes back as far as he can when you approach, but nonetheless, he pulls you in for a hug.

“Please stop.” He groans out as your part and takes your carry-on from you.

“Never.” You smile as he leads you out of the airport.

It takes mere minutes to get to the car, and you both catch up about whatever. It’s been months since you’ve seen Quinn, and whenever you’re with him, you’re reminded why he might be your favorite besides Ellen and Jim, of course.

As soon as you are settled into the passenger of Quinn’s car, he reaches back behind him and pulls out a small gift bag.

“Here, before I forget.”

You give him a questioning look, and he just gives you a slight smirk.

“Just open it. It’s more of a gift to everyone else.”

You squint your eyes a bit suspiciously but pull the tissue paper from the bag. As soon as you do, you see the familiar blue and white colors, and a laugh burst from your lips.

“Oh my god.” You shriek out, laughing, pulling the Canucks jersey from the bag.

You both immediately start laughing, and you can hardly contain yourself.

“Of course, you don’t have to wear it for the game.” Quinn says. “but he’s gonna flip if he sees you wearing it when they get here.”

You scan the Jersey and agree with the boy next to you. Your boyfriend is very possessive when it comes to jerseys, and he hates everything that isn’t red, black, or white and doesn’t have Hughes 86 plastered on the back.

“Oh, this is gold, Quinn.” You say, tucking the jersey back in as Quinn moves the car out of the lot.

“Ma and I thought so, too. She said it might humble him for the night.”

Speaking of humbling your boyfriend, you reach for your phone and go to text him back. You scan the many messages and roll your eyes at a few. Most of them are him just wanting attention, but the last one catches your eye.

we’re 2 hours behind ur flight. No fun or smiling before I get there

You read the text allowed to Quinn, who rolls his eyes at the statement, and you’re quick to shoot a response back, telling Jack that it’s too late and you’re having the best time ever.

————————-

As soon as you step through Quinn’s front door, you hear a happy yell, and Ellen is pulling you in for a long-awaited hug. You practically melt as she squishes you, and the happiest of laughs exits her.

“Oh, my sweet girl, I’m so happy this worked out.” She says to you, pulling back just enough to look at your smiling face.

You look behind her as Jim is standing nearby, waiting his turn. You give Ellen one less squeeze and then turn to the original Hughes and give him a big hug.

“Hey, kiddo,” He says. “Glad you’re here.”

As soon as you say your hellos, you move to get your stuff settled into your room. As quickly as you can, you throw your stuff down and pull on the New Jersey, making your way back out to the kitchen.

As soon as you enter, Jim laughs, and Ellen raises her hands to her mouth.

“Oh, Jack is gonna hate it.” She turns to Quinn and laughs, using him to steady her.

“Oh, we know.” You say, high-fiving Quinn as you grab a cup of some water.

As soon as you get your water, you all settle into the living room, and questions are flying left and right. You talk about school, work, and whatever else comes to mind about the time you’ve spent away from them. They hang onto every word, and you can’t help but smile. You’ve always been close to Jack's family, but when the one-year mark passed, it’s like they fully accepted you as one of them. Now, almost two years in, Ellen and Jim treat you like the daughter they never had, and they tell you often how much more they like you than any of their sons. You always laugh, but you know deep down that you are special to them. And that fact alone makes you consider yourself one of the luckiest girls.

“They just landed,” Quinn announces. “Almost showtime.”

Ellen winks at you from her space on the couch, and you settle deeper into the comfortable space, counting down the seconds until your boyfriend walks through the door.

—————————-

About half an hour later, you hear loud commotion as the door swings open and Jack and Luke enter the building. It takes less than three seconds for Jack to yell.

“Where is she?”

You laugh at him and yell back from the living room. “I’m in here.”

In mere seconds, Jack is in the room, making a beeline toward you. It’s the first time you’ve seen him in a month, and you won’t lie; he looks pretty good.

You make your move and step off the couch, going to hug him, but he halts in his place a few feet away, giving you a once-over.

“Get that shit off you.”

As soon as that leaves his mouth, everyone busts out laughing, and Jack gives you a less-than-impressed look. You feel a bit bad, so you give him a small smile and lift the jersey off your frame, revealing a Devils t-shirt underneath.

As soon as you throw the jersey away, he takes two long strides and engulfs you in a hug. You thought that nothing could beat Ellen’s hug, but Jack's grip nearly breaks your back.

You pull away after a second and pry him off of you. You love him more than anything, but you’re not about to show massive amounts of PDA in front of his parents, who are sitting a few feet away.

He gets this because he lets you go and gives his parents and brother a quick greeting, then leads you away from the living room. Everyone allows it to happen, and you find yourself in the privacy of the bedroom.

“You’re funny, but you better have my jersey for tomorrow night.”

You let out a small laugh and cross the room again, linking your hand behind his head and pulling him closer to you. His hands find home on your waist, and his fingertips dip under your shirt a bit, gently squeezing.

“I promise, J,” you grin. “I’ll do my best to show support to the losing team.”

He releases a soft gasp and gives you a slight look of betrayal.

“Losing team?”

Your grin goes even wider. “Check that stats, bud. You’re in a bit of a losing streak.”

He narrows his eyes a bit, and with one quick motion, he grabs your frame and tosses you on the bed. He enters attack mode, lays his entire weight on you, and begins grabbing at your sides. You, of course, go into defense mode and fight to push him off. You fight for power for a minute before you pull your defining move. He gets close, too close, and you give him your best doe eyes. The second he catches your stare, he folds, and he puts himself at your mercy.

For the first time in a hot minute, you pull him to meet you; the second his lips are on you, you implode. It’s been too long, and there is nothing more comforting and familiar than the boy lying nearly on top of you. You kiss him for a minute, your lips molding perfectly together before you pull away, gently patting his face.

“I think your family would like to see you.”

You push him away again as he rolls his eyes.

“I see them enough.”

He goes back to try to kiss you, but you push him away, putting a finger to his lips and shaking your head.

“Come on.”

He lets out an annoyed huff and removes himself from the bed, pulling you up along with him. You make your way back to the family room and laugh yourself into the family events.

Soon, you’re all playing board games, and you find out very quickly reminded about how sore of a loser your boyfriend is. You play board games cards, and when it gets late enough in the night, you all make your way to the living room for a movie.

You watch something light-hearted, and you can’t help but feel bliss as you’re tucked into Jack's side, surrounded by the entirety of the Hughes family. It’s a nice moment, and it’s the times like this that have you thankful you’ve stuck with the boy at your side.

——————

Before the sun rises, Jack's alarm blares next to you, and you can only groan at the noise. Alarms are truly nothing but an escape from bliss, and you wish you could stay forever in this little bubble. You’re warm comfy, and you don’t mind the boy you’re cuddled next to.

But alas, he is a slave to hockey, and he presses a quick kiss to your lips and swings himself out of bed. You follow a few minutes later, moving at a sloth pace. Instead of getting fully ready, you make your way downstairs to where the smell of bacon is wafting through the house. You’re almost giddy as you see Ellen and Quinn making breakfast, and you get even happier when Ellen places a steaming mug of coffee in front of you.

“You’re an angel, thank you.”

She gives you a big smile and pours another cup for herself. As soon as you catch the time, you offer to take Quinn’s place with the cooking, to which he gladly accepts and runs off to shower and get ready for the big game.

As soon as all the Hughes boys are out of earshot, you get down to business.

“I’ll raise to fifty on the Devs.”

Jim scoffs at your bet. “I love ‘em, but I disagree. Offense has been a bit sloppy. I’ll raise to a hundred on the Nucks.”

You quirk your eyebrow, then turn to the Queen, who seems to be pondering.

“I’m sorry (Y/N), but I think I’m gonna say Nucks too.”

You let out a soft groan but hold your ground.

“Alright. Final bet is a hundred. Winner takes all.

You all shake hands, sealing the deal.

As if you weren’t up to gambling, you act as naturally as possible as the three boys enter the kitchen. Each one is clad in a suit, and it warms your heart to see them all together. They look adorable, and you can’t help but laugh when Ellen demands a picture. They oblige, but like every other photo they take, it slightly looks like they’re being held at gunpoint. But you win some, you lose some.

Eventually, you’re all fed, happy, and once another alarm goes off, you know it’s time. You say your goodbyes to the boys, wishing them the best of luck. You hug Quinn, do your secret handshake with Luke, and press a quick kiss to Jack's lips.

Once you finish, they say their goodbyes to their parents and make their way toward the door, but they don’t get far before Jack pulls you toward him one last time.

“You ready to watch me destroy Quinn?” He teases.

You roll your eyes, pushing him away with a laugh. Nonetheless, you give him one last peck, swat his ass, and yell one final encouragement as he heads out the door.

“Don’t embarrass me!”

He flips you the bird as he gets into Quinn’s vehicle, and you smile and give him one back as you head back into the house.

You sit back down to finish talking with the parents l, and time ticks by faster than you’d like. Soon enough, it’s time to get ready, and you throw on your devil's jersey. You say a little prayer and hope they all do good. Things like this don’t happen often, and you hope it’s simply a good game.

———————

You smiled as wide as you could as the three Hughes brothers posed for a couple of pictures. You could see the distaste on all their faces, but they did it anyway.

Once they do the appropriate media, the game begins, and you’re sitting on the edge of your seat. It’s a good game, no, a great game. Soon, the first period is almost over, but not before your boyfriend has to remind everyone who he is, and he scores a goal.

It’s known that the Hughes parents don’t show much emotion at the games, and even more so when it’s their sons playing on opposite teams. So you control yourself, but you don’t miss when Ellen squeezes your hand.

The game continues, and it’s a nail-biter. Each minute you watch, you get more and more tense. Maybe it’s because you’re just nervous, or perhaps it’s the fact you have a hundred bucks on the line. But either way, you pray the clock ticks faster.

It doesn’t, but once Luke scores, you can’t help but start to think that this might be the end of a losing streak. You laugh on the inside because, of course, all it takes is a little brother rivalry to get the Devils back into motion.

———————

When the clock hits zero, and the Devils win, you practically die in your seat. You’re so thrilled for Jack and Luke, but a small part of you is a bit depressed for Quinn. But you know, if anyone can handle a loss like this, it’s the eldest Hughes, so you’re not too worried. Instead, you focus on your boyfriend, who, even from the box, looks the happiest he’s been in a while. He was given the title of the first star of the game, and you absolutely love it when he’s like this. You know he’s going to be in one of those unstoppable moods. You love it, but he can be a cocky little shit, and you know he’s going to be almost insufferable. You’ll take it, though, and embrace every part of it.

A few minutes later, the area starts clearing, and you’re all getting ready to leave the box, but you almost forget what is happening when Jim slides you a crisp hundred-dollar bill and winks at you.

“Jack really pulls out the stops when you’re at a game.”

You let a blush creep onto your face as you take the bill. You’d be lying if you said that you felt bad. This isn’t the first game you’ve bet on against Jim, and it certainly won’t be the last.

“Alright, you two gamblers, let’s go see the boys, shall we?”

Ellen leads the three of you down to where you’ll see the men of the hour. You feel the happiest you’ve felt in a while as you follow behind them, and when you get close enough, you can hear your boyfriend laugh from a short distance. Your heart skips the noise, and as soon as he spots you from across the room, he moves as fast as lightning to get to you.

[p0rnd3aler]

LOVE AND DEEPSPACE NSFW THINK PIECE/DRABBLE

I’m depraved

Rafayel is the neediest. He’s got a lot of insecurities/abandonment issues from his first love and he def has an anxious attachment style. He’s also absolutely the type of person to be codependent (Hello?? “Join me let’s drown in the ocean together”????? Like, come on). He’s constantly trying to do every little thing with you, almost like he can’t breathe unless it’s air that’s already been filtered through your lungs.

However, all big baby behavior™️ considered, he definitely knows how to woo you. I feel like since he’s Lemurian and also an artist, he only knows how to love a person in the most deeply devoted and romantic way. He’s also very careful with his heart and who he gives it to, once he decides it’s truly and solely yours that’s it. There’s no one else. But you also have to honor that with proper care, he’s very sensitive.

Anyway, I feel like he fucks in a way that’s slow, very sensual. The kind of love making where he takes over all of your senses, all you can feel is his touch, all you can smell is his sweat and cologne, all you can taste is him on your tongue, and all you can see and hear are his face and the sweet words of devotion he whimpers in your ear.

He’s also very easy to rile up.

Zayne is boring to me. Like I get the appeal he’s very hot and he’s also very stable (in a romantic sense) and healthy but I just can’t fantasize about that. Like yeah he’s a busy ass surgeon who will always make time for you no matter what and he’s super devoted and always caring for you in little ways, but also mf will make you take a water break during sex if you’re too wet bc he doesn’t want you to get dehydrated. Im done.

Honestly I think I’m biased against him bc the way he talks to MC just reminds me of this horrid man I met at a bus stop once who immediately started trying to tell me what to do/give me life advice. I get Zayne is qualified and the guy at the bus stop was not but idc if y’all want me to put effort into writing for him ur gonna have to submit it into the requests baby, moving on.

SYLUS. I feel like everybody thinks he’s just some big ol’ nasty freak but they’re WRONG. THEYRE WRONG ABOUT HIM.

Don’t get me wrong he’s definitely fucking tweaking when you first meet him, like just going apeshit off the bat with no context for us. But also? Once you get to know him? Bitch I’ll kill for that man you do not know. This mf drops everything for you.

Important arms deal he’s been trying to set up for a year or going to the arcade with you to get plushies out of a claw machine? Deal = cancelled

The fearless leader of the N109 zone who blows up anyone who perturbs him slightly. MF contributes 50% of the carbon in the atmosphere alone with the amount of shit he literally actually blows up with bombs. But you? You may break into his house and handcuff him to his bed in his sleep while trying to steal a brooch off of him. he doesn’t give a fuck. he’s in love with you. Set his house on fire! He won’t care! He’ll just buy a new one!

As rough as he is around the edges he’s completely smitten. “You should know I adore you. There is no love purer than mine.” Like girl don’t fucking play with me. Is he mentally ill? Absolutely. But he is so devoted, so careful with you. “I’m never annoyed when we do things together.” It’s literally like he’s learning how to be a human being for once and he doesn’t care about losing the coldness or sharpness he once had because you’re more than enough to replace any absence the loss of those thing may bring. He knows he’s getting soft and doesn’t care. He doesn’t try to stop it. To kill for you is nothing to him. Not even a second thought. He kills all the time. But he would never harm again if the violence ever came in between you two.

And I think that dedication, that devotion totally translates itself into how he makes love to you. He’s definitely a filthy talker, I think he says some NASTY shit during sex, just because he likes seeing you squirm and feel how your skin gets hot from his words. But I don’t think he likes hurting you. He wouldn’t do anything to harm you. He’ll spank you yeah, and he’ll tap or squish your cheeks to get your attention. But he only wants to bring you pure, carnal pleasure when it comes to sex. If you even think “that feels good” he’s like a dog with a bone. You get no rest when he’s there you only get mind-numbing pleasure. He’s a tease, he’ll poke lighthearted fun at how loud you’re being, ask you who you think can hear you two while you’re being nasty. But he knows you. He knows what you love, what gets you off, and he cares to learn all of this because of how much he loves you God I’m SICK

Xavier is filthy. That man laps up your pussy like a thirsty dog. The freakiest nastiest mf out of all of them. He won’t show any sexual prowess or interest for months I think. I’m not sure he’s even aware of his powers. Your relationship will literally be based around his chaotic sleeping “schedule” (that shit is not a schedule) and relaxing between missions together. All things considered, you guys spend almost every waking (and sleeping) hour together. Work, dates, naps, eating, it’s almost always together.

It’s not until he hears you getting hit on all night that his composure finally starts to crack.

Three months of the sweetest, purest boyfriend you could ever ask for. Your sweet silly boy, who starts silently pouting all night. It’s not until you two finally find a hotel to stay at for the night, that he finally starts loosening up.

“I’m not a young fool, you know. I don’t take what’s in front of me for granted” he quotes the guys hitting on you earlier, which he heard through your ear piece. Then he recites every time another guy hit on you while you two were on your mission. He’s a jealous jealous jealous boy. He HATES other guys vying for your attention. It just makes him want to whisk you away and bounce you on his dick so loud that every other guy can hear it. When he feels jealousy, he feels the need to mark, claim, devour you so no one else can try and steal you. He gets himself worked up. Stewing and agonizing over the thought and the memory of another guy trying to get to you so much that he can’t even think of sleeping. He gets completely taken over by the urge to have your every reaction solely based on him and what he gives you. I think he fights off these feelings for a long time, up until the protocore mission in the misty invasion memory. He just barely keeps it together until you’re rubbing all over him, pulling him closer to whisper his name in his ear, he just can’t take it. He needs to hear you say it louder. He needs everyone to hear you say his name.

He fucks you so sloppy, the kind of man who does not care what means he has to use as long as the end is what he wants. He wants you covered in marks of his making, he wants you to smell like him, he wants you to have trouble walking the next day, and he wants that asshole who tried hitting on you at work to ask you “what’s wrong? You look like you’re having trouble walking”

And as soon as the guy asks that you look over to Xavier, who has the most pleased little shit eating grin on his face.

The craziest part is that after he gets it all out of his system he’s back to being the little innocent sweet boy. But you know his secret, and he likes that you know it.

[arodabi]

Just to say it one more time: I’m aro and that makes me queer!!!

I will never let that go. Back when the first round of ace discourse was kicking up, i remember the first debate i saw wasn’t “aces aren’t lgbt” or “aces aren’t oppressed” it was specifically that aros and aces couldn’t reclaim the slur word queer because it was never used against us. And i saw that argument used as a wedge to further and further separate aspecs from the queer community. Eventually they just came for the word itself, that’s how the “queer is a slur” bullshit popped up at the same time. “Queer was a horrible horrible slur that nobody, least of all weirdo straights aros/aces, could reclaim.”

And that showed that the people behind spreading ace discourse, namely terfs and all the other exclusionary assholes, were the same people trying to squeeze the freaks out of the lgbt community. We know terfs used as discourse as a gateway to get people to hate trans people and trans women specifically. If you can convince someone that one group of queer people are horrible straight invaders who only want to destroy gay culture, then you can convince them that another group is too. So many of the common arguments against aspec ppl at the time stemmed from old school homophobia even. “Ace people are just mentally ill and need to be fixed” “ace people are pedophiles who want to make the children like them” “ace is a new fad that popped up, not something with any history” who benefits from that except terfs and their alt right sympathizers.

If you really want the community safe then why the fuck are you fighting those ppls battles? The same people who would kick you to the curb as soon as they finish with their current targets?

We can’t do another aspec discourse. We need to remember that the last one wasn’t just “ace ppl are cringe” it was an attempt to silence and destroy a whole group of queer people. And if they do it to aspecs, they can do it to any other group.

[sweatervest-obsessed]

Feeling Unwell

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Reader (she/her pronouns)

WC: 1740

CW: Angst, illness, mentions of hospitals, satirical hatred of children, fluff, spencer being the best

a/n: Some fluff to bring you a brief intermission to your Kinktober readings.

Spencer Masterlist

The worst feeling in the world is waking up with a headache. 

Your head felt like a dance floor where ballerinas were doing their petit allegro warm ups, and there was no mercy. Every single sound filled your unopened eyes with fluff from a stuffed animal. 

The second worst feeling in the world was realizing that you couldn’t breathe through your nose, almost suffocating yourself from trying. 

“Maybe a tissue would help.” 

Not even opening your eyes, you use your hand to shove some part of your husband, playful, but grumpily. 

“Thanks, genius.” You grumbled, and curled further into yourself, yanking the blanket over with you. 

The man next to you let out a small, unserious, exclamation as the blanket that was once covering him was single-handedly yanked from his body. 

“Well good morning to you too.” 

You felt as he sat up, and properly woke up; most likely running his hands through his hair and putting on his glasses. 

Spencer then placed a hand on your hip, leaning over and kissing your head. “Morning baby.”

But before he could pull away, the heat coming off of your forehead was alarming, even to him. 

The feeling of his lips on your head was momentary bliss, even if it was psychosomatic. Anything Spencer did for you (or to you, if you know what I mean…) always felt good. Being cared for in a genuine way was a true testament to how much people can benefit from love: emotionally, spiritually, mentally, and yes, even physically. 

Spencer gently brushed aside some of the hair covering your temple, and kissed it again, this time with the full intent of taking your temperature. 

“Can I help you?” 

“Does your head hurt?” 

You snorted, but winced as you did, since you didn’t actually cause any sound. Your sinuses were so blocked up, that you ended up making your headache ten times worse.

And that was when the coughing started. 

Not being able to breathe through your nose meant that your chest already ached, but then all of a sudden you couldn’t breathe at all. Your ears both popped, and you could have sworn there was a constant ringing in your right ear. The coughing got worse before it got better, and it only got better because Spencer had jumped out of bed, run into the kitchen in just his briefs, and grabbed a glass of water for you to try and force down your throat. 

“Alright. We’re going to the doctors.” 

A moan of protest left your lips and as you moved to lay back down in the warmth of your own bed, where you could be unbothered by this random man who was insisting that you needed to get up, and go in public. 

“I know, I know baby.” He was now sitting on the edge of your side of the bed, and was running his thumb along your forehead. Your body involuntarily curled itself around his, and you sighed. 

“It’s like you hate me, and you want—”

A cough ripped through your sentence and your throat. 

If someone was walking by, they might have guessed that you were a chainsmoker of thirty years; a chimney of a woman. 

But, unfortunately, you had your guesses about where this mystery illness had come from. 

“Spence.” You managed to croak out. 

He hadn’t left your side, still rubbing his thumb across your head. “Yeah baby.” 

“I think that stupid twerp gave me his illness.” 

Spencer chuckled. “Who are you talking about?” 

“Remember…” You scooted impossibly closer to him, now able to rest your head on his thigh. “Remember that kid from the last case, the one who ended up having to go into the doctors because he was sick. I’d fucking…”

You paused, trying to catch your breath as you spoke. 

If you had to bet money, you’d place your entire net worth–plus your home and all your earthly possessions– that Spencer Reid was some sort of god from beyond comprehension since he was just sitting here, patiently waiting for you to finish your thought, even though it was taking you minutes to spit out one sentence. 

“He must’ve had some sort of stupid…stupid sickness. And I blame Hotch for making me be the one to sit with the kid.” 

Spencer hummed, a sign of support for your theory. 

“If that fucking kid gave me pneumonia or some shit—I’m gonna find him—”

“Alright there trigger happy.” He cut you off and kissed your head again. “I know it’s going to suck so much ass, but we need to go to urgent care because your cough and fever are really starting to worry me.”

“Who the hell even gets pneumonia in the summer anyways.” You grumbled to yourself, and you rolled onto your back, and slowly sat up; Spencer’s hand on your thigh the entire time. 

An anchor as your head sloshed around with illness. 

“I bet I look like a biblical depiction of famine.” 

That made Spencer crack a smile. 

“Glad you feel good enough to joke around about it.” 

“I actually feel like death. That kid’s made worms’ meat of me.” 

Spencer stood up, face filled with amusement. “Alright Shakespeare.”

You took his hand and slowly stood up. Eyes closed as the slight change in altitude made your eardrums pulse, and your head starts to spin. 

“Tomorrow you’ll find me a grave man.” You grumbled, leaning up against Spencer as the world decided to speed up its rotation by about a million. 

“I cannot believe you’re quoting Shakespeare at me while you can’t even stand up right now.” 

You cracked a smile, eyes still closed. “I’ve always liked Mercutio—a man making puns even as he’s dying—that’s my kinda guys.” 

After standing still, in silence, for the next two minutes, you were able to open your eyes and look over at Spencer. “I love you.” 

It was soft, but earnest. 

How lucky were you to have someone who just spent the past fifteen minutes patiently waiting by your side, to get you out of bed so he could take you to the doctors office because you weren’t feeling well. He could have just let you stew in bed, and take the day to be ill at your home. But instead, he sat with you, got you water when you almost died first thing in the morning, and now is your literal crutch as you move to the bathroom, so you could at least brush your teeth. 

You’ll be damned if you don’t at least brush your teeth before going out in public. 

The thought of it almost made you feel worse than what you were feeling now. 

You were awake enough that your body was starting to fight the illness in real time, meaning Spencer had left your side to quickly get dressed. 

He was back by your side a few minutes later, letting you take your time in the bathroom with your morning routine. In his hands was one of your favorite crewnecks to lounge around the house in, and the matching sweatpants. Snoopy around the ankle, and Snoopy and Woodstock across your chest. Something about the Peanuts characters being there made them a little bit comfier. 

“You’re going to deck me out in Snoopy to go to Urgent Care?” 

Spencer nodded and placed them on the counter. “If we end up being there for a while, you’d die in a pair of jeans. Don’t even try to pretend like you were going to put a bra on either” 

“How did a girl get so lucky?” You hummed, and leaned against him again. His arms wrapping around you as your body relaxed every so slightly.

“I have several degrees, including three Phds. That makes me a doctor, and as such, I’m educated well enough to know the perfect woman when I see her. Anyone who doesn’t agree with me, clearly doesn’t have the degree to back up their points.” 

You squeezed him briefly, before pulling away slightly, still encircled in his arms. “We;; Doctor Reid, I can’t argue with a professional. But I must say, your professional opinion is skewed.” 

Spencer kissed your head and shrugged. He went to say some sort of snarky rebuttal, but you interrupted him with yet another coughing fit. 

You had never been to the Sahara desert before, but you could assume this is what it felt like if you were in the middle of it and had accidentally swallowed gallons of sand while the driest wind passed through you. 

Spence just rubbed his hand along your back, waiting for the fit to end. 

Once it had, your body had started to lose some of the initial fervor you had managed to gain from waking up. “Spence, I think I need to just lay down for a while…”

“No.” He shook his head. “You have to put those clothes on and then we’re going to the doctor. I know you want to lay down babygirl, but the sooner we get you medicated, the better.” 

Then he started to talk about breakfast, and your stomach lurched. “The thought of food makes me want to die. It’s not happening right now.” 

Spencer went to speak but you cut him off. “Babe. I will get dressed, and we can go to the hospital, but I’m not hungry. I’m not going to eat, and you’re not going to force me because the thought makes me feel even worse. Deal?” 

He sighed and ran a hand through his hair. 

“Deal Spence?” 

Spencer just looked at you, and his resolve crumbled a bit. This was your best effort as a compromise. Every single atom you were comprised of made you want to collapse to the ground and enjoy the feeling of no longer being upright. But you were trying for him. He just had to compromise. 

“Deal.” He sighed. “We’re leaving in five okay?” 

“Aye Aye captain.” You placed a kiss on his cheek, not wanting to spread whatever you had to his lungs, and grabbed your clothes. 

Eventually, when you later found out that the kid witness from the previous case had given you viral pneumonia, your resentment for the little twerp grew even more, even resulting in a statement that you were 

“Never going to fucking have kids ever.” 

The statement made Spencer laugh as the two of you drove back home, meds in hand, and fresh hatred of ‘snot nosed children’ in the air. 

[thisfanisgonesorry]

groupie love — hobie brown

guitarists dont get as many groupies as you’d think they do. 😮 

tags: smut, vaginal sex, mirror sex, hairpulling, hookups go crazy, dom/sub, teasing/praise kink obv, creampie bc i forgot the condom at home, brief cockwarming. bro is a lovesick idiot fr. possessive as HELL. porn w feelings kinda? infatuation? idk theres feelings! im mentally ill! pussy so good that hes down bad! consent is sexy tho.. parasocial relationships arent

(but it’s so hard sometimes with the star when you have to share him with everybody; and i know what you’re thinking of, you want my groupie love)

🕸️

One thing led to another and he was leading me through the backstage entryway, his arm draped over my shoulder as he walked with a pep in his step, filled with adrenaline and trying to get it out of his system in ways that didn’t end in him pouncing on me. (Though admittedly, that’d be short lived.)

Backstage was mostly empty besides a few select crewmates who overall didn’t seem too phased by my presence. Hobie greeted them as he walked past, as if he knew each one personally. The rest of the band had seemingly dipped, and weren’t too worried about Hobie being missing from wherever they’d gone to hang out.

“Li’l lady wants to check out the green room.” He winked at one of the crew as he continued, dismissing them to give us space. The green room was nice but it wasn’t his destination in mind. He stood there for a minute, looking down at me briefly, before spinning dramatically and pushing his back against the dressing room door, sliding in and pressing me against the wall in a fairly smooth action.

“Don’t think anyone saw that?” I muttered out quickly, it was more of a question as I really didn’t see much from the spin itself, caught a little off guard by the sudden movement and unable to process much until I was pinned firmly against the wall. The dressing room was small, and he took advantage of the fact.

“M’hm, no.” He shook his head, leaning in slightly. “Nah, y’re all mine.” He continued.

His hands lingered on my waist, his fingertips reaching under the fabric and restraining himself as much as he could as he felt the soft skin underneath.

“You seem energised.” I laughed softly.

“I’m fine, jus’ got my blood pumping. Was a good show. Can I kiss you?” He spoke quickly to the point where if you weren’t paying attention, you would’ve missed it. There was a short moment of silence where the air hung heavy as he waited, oh, how he waited so very patiently.

“... Yeah.” I nodded.

His patience ran thin, and his lips harshly made contact with mine, almost pushing my head into the wall. What a way to get a concussion. He groaned into it for a moment, enjoying the taste and licking my bottom lip slightly. My hands loosely hung around his neck, 

“Bloody ‘ell...” He muttered, pulling away and going down my neck. His free hand reached to the door, locking it before anyone could walk in. He was kissing and licking my neck, letting small bitemarks dance across the skin.

He began tugging at the hem of my shirt anxiously, wanting to just strip me bare, bend me over, fuck my brains out, but all in due time.

“Doors soundproof.” He commented. “Let me—”

One arm was wrapped around his shoulders, grabbing a fistful of the leather jacket and tugging on it to beckon him forward as the other grabbed his hand, pushing it closer. In hindsight, it was kind of sweet how certain he was letting things be.

He quickly removed my shirt that had his own band’s logo on it, throwing it to the floor and fumbling on the bra, running his large palms over the fabric. I leaned forward to kiss him again and his hands dropped to my hips, hastily (and harshly) dragging me to the dressing table, pushing me up against it. 

Our lips were reconnected once again, though the kisses were messy. My arm was still around his neck, my other on his chest. His hands began to slightly shimmy down my shorts and he moaned into the kiss. “S’pretty, darlin’, so..” He mumbled breathlessly, pulling away enough to let me kick off the shorts (albeit, struggling to because of my boots) and for him to shrug off his jacket. Both articles disappeared somewhere into the room to be determined later.

My hands lingered to his hips, reaching up and feeling his toned abs from under his shirt. “Y’so hot, Hobie.” I moaned back, feeling the way his stomach tensed under my fingertips.

“What? like ‘m not meant t’be fit?” He tried to joke as he palmed my tits again. 

“Didn’t mean it like that.”

He only responded with a laugh, kissing my neck and collarbone as he removed the bra, thrown to the side and his hands explored downwards in an attempt to remove the last of clothing.

“This aint fair.” I breathed, seeing him still fully dressed.

“Yeh, I know.” He responded, taking his shirt off, another piece lost to the room.

He ended up turning the light off, so the only light in the room was the one radiating from the mirror itself. He looked good like this but I guess that was the point. His face was flushed, it would be hard to tell otherwise if it wasn’t for the heat that it was giving off, you could literally feel it from across the room; his eyes were hyper focused and his lips were swollen slightly.

He leaned forward to kiss me again. “Y’re so beautiful.” He groaned.

“I was about to say the same thing.”

I reached down boldly, my fingers twitching to unbutton his jeans, to pull the zip down, to—

“Y’re gonna hurt y’self.” He joked, swatting my shaking hands away. “Touch yourself f’me.” He asked softly, trying to speak clearly despite his otherwise dishevelled behaviour.

I slid my fingers between my legs, toying with him as he watched between kisses. 

“C’mon, darl’.” He purred sweetly. “Work y’self open f’me, please?”

He swallows the moans that leave my mouth as I push my fingers inside, weakly thrusting as he continues to kiss me, hovering over me as he palms his hardness through his jeans.

“Hobie, c’mon.” I groaned, getting impatient with him. All he wanted to do was toy and tease me; holding me closely as his eyes scanned my naked body like a piece of meat, kissing as much of the flesh as he could, longing for the taste and feel under his lips.

“Alr’, alr’.” He drawled finally.

He pulled away enough to create distance between us, we both stood in anticipation, catching our breath slightly as he unbuttoned his jeans and pulled the zip. The jeans themselves were grungy, and his dick freed itself from the tight confines as quickly as it could, shimmying the jeans down to his thighs.

“No underwear? Anarchist goes commando?” I asked breathlessly as I continued to work myself, yet finding humour in comparing him to a militia.

He sucked in a sharp breath. “Y/n. Don’t.” He warned.

“You go pantless just in case some pretty girl would fuck you tonight?”

I poked my tongue out between my teeth, biting down on it slightly, wanting nothing more than to be testing my luck with him. He grabbed my wrists, removing my hand from my insides and holding the sticky, shiny fingers up. It looked filthy in the bright light, he tutted slightly before licking the fingers clean, grinding his hard cock against the slick folds.

He held both my wrists in place, making it impossible for me to fight him with the movement of his hips, he was careful that he wouldn’t accidentally push himself into me, whether or not that accident was with his own free will or not. He was enjoying this, the torturous nature of it all. Yeah, definitely don’t talk back to him.

“Feels s’good like this.” He tried to speak clearly; “Could jus’ fuck you like this, yeah? Cum all over y’r cunt, don’t even go in?”

“I’m sorry.” I quickly spoke when I realised he could just stay like this.

“You’re sorry?”

“Please, Hobie, fuck me real good. I’m sorry, didn’t mean it.” I pleaded, though he could tell the words were only half hearted.

He tried to laugh but it got swallowed into a groan. He threw his head back and released my wrists. “Yeah, yeah. C’mon.” He spoke, finding amusement in it. He hissed slightly at the loss of contact as he turned me around to look in the mirror, bending me over the dressing table.

His breathing quickened as he admired the view of me bent over the table, elbows supporting my weight and my pretty eyes looking up at him through the mirror. He swallowed thickly, still grinding lazily against the wetness as he tried to shimmy his pants down further, they got about a little past his knees before getting snagged on his boots and he realised that it wouldn’t go much further than that.

“Ngh.. Fuck, y’so good.” He struggled out, a low moan erupting from his throat. “Gettin’ m’cock all nice ‘n’wet.”

“Hobie, I’m sorry.” I threw my head forward, not wanting to look at our reflections. “Fuck me, please, want you.”

“I know.” He groaned as he aligned himself. He gave a harsh tug on my hair, forcibly making me look in the mirror. “Look. Watch.” He panted.

He slid his thickness deep inside in one slow, stuttery motion. I watched carefully, my mouth fell open and my eyes threatened to close. His eyebrows knitted together and his mouth mimicked mine, falling agape.

“Oh my fucking god.” I moaned out, unable to hold my head up but quickly felt the tug on my hair as he held my limp neck in position.

He buried himself completely, “Look at how I’m stretchin’ you out, y/n, my darlin’.” He grinned lopsidedly.

He began thrusting slowly, watching the faces that I made, his eyebrows stayed knitted like he was focused on my expressions and nothing else.

“So good, Hobie.” I muttered, my head threatening to dip forward if it wasn’t for his grip on my hair. I tried to squirm away from him and his grip on my hip got tighter. “So big.”

“Yeah?” He spoke condescendingly, relishing at the way I felt around him. “Y’ve been dreamin’ about this, haven’t ya’?”

“Mhm, all the time.” I moaned quietly. “Fantasise about y’so bad.” 

“I bet’cha always wondered how good I’d feel buried deep in y’cunt.” He commented, picking up his pace as he felt the warmth swallow him perfectly; it wasn’t necessarily rough or fast, but the size of his cock as it nestled all the way in was almost too much. Almost. “The real things s’much better, ain’t it?”

“Ah! Yes!” I cried, reaching back to push at his hips.

“Takin’ me s’well, darlin’.” He groaned, not letting up. He wasn’t being relentless but the position and the harsh pound of his cock was all too much at once, I closed my eyes tight and he fought the urge to give another harsh tug on my hair.

“S’deep, Hobes, baby—” I groaned, though it was immediately followed by pathetic whines which completely diminished the point I was trying to make.

“Why y’pushin’ at me, sweet thing? What’s wrong?” He teased, knowing damn well that there wasn’t the faintest of an issue.

“So deep.. So big. Slow down.”

“What? Y’don’t think y’can take it?” He joked through slurred speech, giving a particularly harsh thrust.

“Mhm!” I jerked forward with a whine, then feeling the harsh tug on my hair as my body pulled away from his tight grip.

“I think y’can take it jus’ fine.” He continued teasing, still desperately nudging my insides. “M’pricks too big f’you, ain’t it, darlin’?”

I shook my head weakly, keeping my eyes glued on his face as he fucked me from behind. “No, mhm— I can take it.” I struggled out.

“Y’doin’ s’good.” He slurred with a groan.

The audible wet sounds began to fill the dressing room and I could do nothing but let out a pathetic whine as I could feel the sticky liquid make a mess on both our thighs. The slickness was making it easier for him to slide in and out, using it to his advantage to fuck into me even harder. It did nothing to ease the slight slapping sound, and if that door wasn’t soundproof like Hobie claimed, we were probably being louder than the show itself was.

I shook my head weakly, jerking forward at his movements and taking whatever he would give me. “So good. So deep. So big.” I rambled, the only words that my brain could come up with at the given moment.

“I want y’to watch, darlin. Look at y’r pretty face as I fuck you.” He spoke, knowing I wouldn’t be able to open my eyes in the slightest, coming across like nothing but a cock drunk groupie whore, though I guess, it wasn’t far off. “Y’re basically droolin’ for me.”

“Keep talkin’ to me like that, holy shit, make me cum.”

“Eyes up here. On me. Y’got it.” He praised, his harsh tugs became more gentle as he got more stern in keeping my eyes on the view. “Keep lookin’, c’mon, darlin’, look. Y’re s’beautiful. All f’me, look at ya. So fuckin’ gorgeous.”

His voice began to ramble, whines and groans leaving his throat at intervals. 

“I’m trying.” I mumbled out; “It’s hard.”

“Darl’, ‘m not gon’ keep tellin ya’ to keep y’head up.” He moaned, removing his hand from my hair and rubbing figure 8’s right where I needed it. “Yeah, y’re gonna take it.” He panted, leaning over my body to press kisses on my shoulder and neck. “Take it, darlin’, doin’ good. Doin’ so good.”

I leaned my head back on his shoulder, looking down through half-lidded eyes at the filthy view of him fucking me into his dressing table.

“See? You can handle watchin y’self gettin’ fucked like a good girl.”

“Hobie, ‘m gonna cum.” I moaned, struggling to watch myself but worried that if I stopped, he’d pull his hands away from me.

“Watch y’self, good girl.” He praised again.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck.”

“Fuck, can feel y’squeezin’ me.” He whined. “Cum for me, darlin’, s’pretty when y’clench this big cock, yeah? ‘M stretching it out, y’gonna be so perfect f’me.”

I took a bite out of my knuckle as I felt it hit, he slowed down slightly but kept the movements methodical besides the gradual slowing as he praised me throughout it.

“Hobie—” I cried out.

The way I clenched around him made him harshly hold onto my hip, the moans filled the room loudly as he fucked me through the wave. Small purrs of praise were audible but it was almost impossible to focus.

“You right?” He rasped out, slowing his movements to a halt. He would’ve cum right then and there if he didn’t have half the mind to prolong himself.

“Mhm.” I hummed, dazed and confused. “Keep goin’.” I acknowledged, wanting to make him feel good.

“Wish I could fuck a pretty thing like you after all m’shows.” He spoke sweetly in my ear, thrusting up again for his own orgasm, it started slow but he increased his pace when he began riling himself up with ideas. “Tease y’before so y’re all wet and ready when ‘m done.” He laughed softly. “Y’can help me warm up m’fingers for the guitar.”

He spoke softly and calmly as he could, feeling the wetness twitch around him from overstimulation. He kept this slow as he could, knowing that he didn’t want to end things just yet. His dazed eyes tried to memorise every detail he could; hooking up with a groupie meant the chance of never seeing them again, his movements on my clit picking up too; he was desperate to bring me pleasure, he needed this just as much as I did, which was saying a lot.

I weakly tried to keep my head up, watching his face attentively, he looked completely dishevelled with need; something about this was driving him crazy but all I could focus on was how good he felt.

He started kissing my neck again before deciding to ask a question he knew I probably wouldn’t answer otherwise. “Why ain’t you got’a boyfr’nd?” He grunted over my limp body, feeling himself hit the deepest parts and watching me react to it. My vision would go white and I’d jerk into the feeling.

“Don’t want one. Only want you.” I spoke matter-of-factly despite my dazed demeanour.

“Fuck, Y/n, Don’t say that.” He choked. “Wan’ keep you all f’myself.”

I groaned, pressing myself closer against his body. His arms wrapped around my torso, pulling me to stand upright and my arms reached around to touch him the best I could, though his hand stayed glued to the pussy that he’d grown infatuated with.

“Y’re gonna be thinkin’ about this for a long time, yeah?” He breathed. “Gonna think about m’cock fuckin’ into y’cunt?”

“Hobie—”

“I feel y’gettin’ close again. God, want y’so fuckin’ bad.”

His hand took a faster pace than what it previously was, rubbing hard and fast circles into my clit, wanting to feel me be undone on him when he cums.

“Better than I could’ve imagined.” I panted in admission.

“Y’re.. ‘M right there.” He moaned. “Y’so hot, makin’ me s’hard. Gonna make m’cum.”

There was nothing I could do to respond besides lewdly take what he was giving me, nodding weakly and trying to watch the view in front of me. He looked so beautifully debauched, and feeling his ragged breathing against my spine was something I didn’t know I needed to feel, something I unknowingly longed for.

“Mhm, y’can stay wit’ us.” He nodded, as if what he was rambling made any sense. “Bring you along, keep you f’shows. Darlin’, you’d be my perfect li’l groupie..”

His pussy-whipped drunk ramblings sounded like a love confession as he neared his release, knowing he didn’t want it to be over so soon but desperately wanting to feel the warm, tensing tightness around him as he filled me as much as he could.

“I want you, I want you.” I nodded back, too cock-drunk to care. 

“Cum f’me, y/n, cum with me, need— Oh fuckin’ shit.”

He groaned as he felt the clenching of my walls around his hard cock, desperately wanting to take him for all he’s got. Give it to me, give it to me, give it to me is the only phrase that repeated in my head as I felt the twitching and nearing signs.

“Give it to me, please, give it to me.” I pleaded through orgasm.

His body shook with want and he forced his eyes to stay open, needing to watch this unfold before him in a weak attempt to convince himself that it was real. Keenly watching the way my face contorted as I came on him, my eyes barely open enough to see the way his face mirrored mine. He let out small pants and whines, before his hips pushed deeply, his hips stuttering weakly as he filled me with his cum.

I felt the warm liquid between my legs, throwing my head back and sighing as I tried to relax from the high. Beautiful afterglow; beautiful boy. He collapsed forward slightly, holding me in place but using one arm to support us.

“It’s a really nice tour bus. Don’t even need y’own bed, just sleep in mine.” He continued in a whisper, pressing a soft kiss into the sticky flesh of my neck, nuzzling the hair away.

We stood for a moment before he pulled a chair from the side of the dressing table, slowly sitting us on it and keeping the position, his arms wrapped around me tightly like he never planned to let go.

I squirmed at the feeling. “Mhm.. Y’think?” I laughed softly; not taking him close to serious.

His eyes were heavy and he continued to look at us in the mirror, an unreadable expression as he buried his head behind my shoulder, his eyes barely poking above the flesh for him to admire the view. “I’m serious.” He mumbled awkwardly before going to a complete whisper. “Stay?”

[sluttycinderella]

Razorgate: an empirical, peer reviewed study*

*there is nothing genuinely scientific about this, it is merely a result of mental illness and unemployment.

So we all saw this right?

But after this bomb was dropped I began to get curious about the other slittenings. Did they use the same razor for all of them and no one had noticed? Do they actually own more than one razor? And if they don't, if this is truly the only phrazor, then I don't think I have to tell you that raises a lot of questions.

Firstly, I went back to where this all began, Phil's Birthday stream, to identify the razor that carved the very first slit and forever cemented itself as a part of herstory:

Now that is very clearly the Manscaped logo, no question about it. Here’s a high quality photo of the logo for comparison:

(You can also clearly see in the Twitter post that it says "Manscaped" across it but I like to double check my work and I also wanted to prove that they were both Manscaped)

And it's a good thing I did double check because OP made a CRITICAL ERROR in their post! They claim that the razor in question is the Lawn Mower 4.0 when in fact it's the Lawn Mower 5.0 Ultra! Unlike the PUNY, PATHETIC, UNMANLY 4.0, the Lawn Mower 5.0 Ultra comes with an interchangeable foil blade, a USB port, and a more advanced spotlight!

How could OP be so careless? Dan and Phil would never own an outdated razor! They require only the finest in ball shaving technology!

Also fun fact: The first appearance of the Lawn Mower 5.0 Ultra on the Manscaped YouTube channel falls right in between the dapg return announcement and their first video back so make of that what you will...I for one shall be sculpting my own hill out of the very earth itself, "Manscaped Sponsorship Hill", I encourage you all to join me.

So after spending far too long researching the intricacies of razors that shave an organ I don't even have, I now needed to check if it was the same razor being used in every slittening:

Here they are side by side for comparison, left is Phil’s birthday, middle is the We're All Doomed post-premiere, right is Dan’s birthday. Now it appears the WAD one is missing the logo but I'm going to go ahead and chalk that up to the poor quality of the clip I found (if anyone has a better version PLEASE hit me up so I can confirm my hypothesis). And considering the photo taken in the aftermath seems to show Phil holding the 5.0 Ultra:

I'm gonna go out on a limb and say it's the same thing.

“But,” I hear you shouting, “so what if Dan and Phil used the same razor for all the streams? They already said they only owned one razor so who cares?” Well this isn’t so much about proving that they’re the same razor as it is establishing a baseline. It’s hard to trust basically anything Dan and Phil say lately, what with piggate and the “pillow” bar and the fake view from the Phouse, knowing that they aren’t lying about only having one razor (to the best of our knowledge) is crucial in figuring out what exactly is going on. Remember, we’re doing science here.

And with that in mind: In my professional opinion, I can say that for all three slittenings, the Manscaped Lawn Mower 5.0 Ultra was the weapon of choice.

Sidenote: I went down a bit of a rabbit hole of Manscaped reviews during all of this and apparently Manscaped razors are kind of just a scam. This razor is $109 and they try to trick their customers into subscribing to their "Peak Hygiene Plan" which you don't actually need by offering a deceptive discount and hiding the terms where people aren't likely to see them. So yeah, fuck Manscaped and I for one think we should cancel Dan and Phil for not ethically consuming under capitalism.

But that's beside the point, we know that they indeed only have one razor and that that razor...is for balls. What does that tell us?

Conclusions

There are a multitude of conclusions one could jump to in the light of such a revelation, I shall display them in a convenient numbered list for your viewing pleasure:

One of them prefers to use straight (lol) razors to shave their...you know...I don't actually know if this is a thing people do or if it's even possible, people with balls please sound off in the comments, thank you

Only one of them actually shaves in which case I support them as an infamous pussy hair enthusiast (iykyk)

They share a razor (Please, God, no, that's actually disgusting)

Either way, this thing was on someone's balls and then it touched both their faces so I really hope they cleaned it properly!

Alright, so that whole exploration may have been a bit useless, it indeed only confirmed what we had already been told, but I spent literal hours comparing photos of ball hair trimmers and I'm not one to admit defeat. Consider yourselves peer reviewed, Dan and Phil, and maybe check out Beardscape instead! Apparently they have better, more comprehensive razors for the same price.

If anyone even more demon than me has any corroborating evidence (maybe of them using straight razors at any point or anything else razor related that they've said in the past) please let me know so I can take it into consideration! Thank you all for your time.

[svt-kiki]

　✶　DROWN TO DEPTH　｡｡　𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗏𝗈𝗂𝖽 𝗂𝗌 𝖻𝗈𝗍𝗍𝗈𝗆𝗅𝖾𝗌𝗌

　💿 ⌇ 𝖠𝗇 𝖮𝖽𝖾 𝖾𝗋𝖺.　

2020.　세븐틴 × kiki ( fem!oc )　wc.　4.9k　𝗋𝖾𝗊 !

cw.　mentions of depression / anxiety / seungcheol & jeonghan’s hiatus and other members unwell, kiki basically neglecting her mental health, implies slight memory impairment cause of stress

an.　i’ve got scenario reqs for kiki’s hiatus and sickfic ages ago so just combined them both, sorry to take so long :’) + tried to do with all members but run out energy 😔 hope u enjoy !

REBLOG & FEEDBACK are always welcomed 🪽 ͗ ͗

kiki hasn’t been remembering the last time she slept and woke up without any worries. 

it had to be refreshing morning. despite the keen and crisp air, clean linens — white sheets and pillows trying to swallow her mind and motivation. 

kiki kept staring at the ceiling of the hotel room for a while. she hardly could gather the thoughts. what i should do today? rehearsal, of course. re-check the formation and share the changes with staffs and members. everyone already got used to the 12 or 13 members version since seungcheol and jeonghan’s hiatus, but even that fact made her stomach heavier. besides, they all needed to make sure which formation depended on the members’ condition each day. of course, kiki never mind the change itself. but she hates how they need to think about “are boys gonna be okay today? or someone became sick and couldn’t attend the stage, again?” every time before the stage these days. kiki never thought the tour can be this harsh — or, more precisely, cruel. 

she hates the boys’ suffer way more than the burden of herself. she hates how more than half of them need to go through illness at least once during this tour. the schedule is killing them, she thought. they experienced something like this before on their early career days, murder-ish busyness. but this time it’s different, somehow. 

she doesn’t feel well. 

“kiki?” seungcheol called her name when he saw the girl came out from the hotel room as if she’s crawling out. “good mor- are you okay?”

her eyes. the light in her eyes, it’s just so dull and blurred now. she slowly stared at him, looked like forgot how to say “good morning,” and it made seungcheol terrified. 

“cheol,” she mumbled. “hi, i just… i need to go to the meeting.”

“what meeting?”

“today’s concert, of course.”

“…we don’t have a concert today.”

at that moment — he knew. this is so fucking wrong. like everyone kinda notice something is off with her recently, or this past months. but it was unclear, her situation was vague, got lost in the ongoing schedules like a broken machine. 

“what do you mean we don’t have?” she was genuinely confused. “wait, today’s... 23rd, right?”

“no,” seungcheol felt dizzy, noticing that sounded more like her symptoms. “today is 24th of january. you don’t remember we finished north america tour yesterday?”

“i-“ she frowned the eyebrows. “wait, really? oh i... i must’ve mistaken. sorry,” then kiki finally noticed what his face looked like. “don’t worry. i’m just a bit, tired, you know...” she waved his gaze away from her. “so it means i still can sleep?”

“uh, yeah, i think so. about couple hours... hyelim nim said we’ll set off at 11 or something yesterday.”

she just nodded and head back to the room. “see you later.”

seungcheol just kept staring at the door for a second, tried to find clue to this situation on there, which was never founded. 

DAY 1 - 8:11 AM

fuck, she thought. 

kiki gazed down at the lockscreen. january 24th, 8:11 am. she literally overlooked. her body was absorbed to the bed, once again. 

the thing — her memory being fucked up, happening time to time these days. mostly it was only couple minutes or little more. her mind suddenly went blank and couldn’t remember what she was doing last minutes. 

the gravity is like ten times stronger then usual. feels like someone trying to glue herself onto the ground.

knock knock, the door made small sounds. seungcheol popped out his head from the crack. “may i come in?”

kiki didn’t answered but he already slided himself into the room. the curtain was almost closed and the slit of the light was silently thrown on the floor to the bed. 

“you feel tired?”

“yes... a little,”

he then frowned his eyebrows, hovered over her. “you look... so pale.” his thumb caressed her cheek down to the jaw. kiki was just blinking slowly, her eyes didn’t follow his movements, just staring at his tip of nose with a fainted gaze. her cheek got all thin, the rosy hue something reminded the soft shade of sunsets that usually stayed there was now covered with frosty snow color. “i’m fine.” she repeated the words like the broken records. 

at this point, it was his feelings that had a fever. she had always been like this. always pushed herself too much. usually kiki knew how to hang in there, tip toeing around the last borderline but never across because that would lead to the exact outcome she didn’t want to be. she knew how to take care herself and control the condition. 

but not this time. everyone sensed something was going wrong. she was like a ghost in outside of the stage these days. her presence was pretty much stale and the face sagged. so unlike her. the cloud of fatigue took the ray of sunshine away. “do you sleep properly these days?”

“not much, like everyone else. all the kids had poor health during this tour. i’m no special, you know it.”

“kiki,” seungcheol couldn’t help but started to feel irritate. “you should stop thinking like that. you are no special, that’s why you also feel unwell if you couldn’t rest properly. that’s natural, nothing strange. you need to take rest.”

“that’s why i’m lying on the bed. can’t you see?”

“kyoka.” she pressed her lips tightly. the way he called, how the tone of his voice echoed through her head, this was the way seungcheol used when he need to point out something to her seriously. kiki also knew she should do something with current situation. but the nonstop cycle of transfers, meetings, adjustments and performances just cornered her until she loose her mind underwater. of course she poured her soul into each lives. yet the pillar of her heart snapped as soon as she got off from the stage these days. the mind started to become numb. the bones and nerves signaled pain but ignored it.

he laid down on her next. the body started losing the tension after seungcheol tried to hug and rub her upper body softly. kiki felt asleep shortly after. seungcheol kept staring at her face for a while before woke up and silently left her room. 

he then knocked the room which was not kiki’s, or even his. park minji, the manager who is close to kiki appeared from behind the door. 

“coups? good morning... what’s wrong?”

“kiki,” he said in rush, continued before minji tilted her head in confusion. “i think she needs to take a rest, a day or maybe more before get on the plane.” for a moment, he thought she might throw a confusing look as if trying to say “what are you talking about?” but unlike his bitter imagination, minji’s eyes took on the seriousness immediately. “is she alright?” 

“kinda, only for now in my opinion.”

seems like the woman gathering the thoughts quickly before leaning towards the door frame. she said, “you think so? she wore me down few days ago to accomplish this tour instead she’ll cut off some tasks and get some rest after we back to korea, i didn’t have a choice but agree since she insisted so firmly,” minji bit her lip out of regrets, thinking she shouldn’t listen to her for this time. 

“she was just trying to head for the meetings, thought today is 23rd. her mind seemed so woolly, it doesn’t look like she’s okay at all, noona.” seungcheol then added shortly after, “also i think she will get a fever within a day. i kinda aware about these things, hers.”

she then opened the door wider to let him in before make a phone calls. “hi, sorry if i wake you up. no, not that... actually it’s about kiki — yes, i was thinking, maybe we can delay her flight? like couple days, hopefully… no, not yet for now but... yes, likely. uh huh, yes, of course. thank you… oh i can do that, yeah. no problem. okay, later.”

she held the gaze of him. “i just called the chief, they will search the flight and book some doctor’s appointments. i will contact to other members.”

“let’s call them in here. i think they want to discuss what we will do.”

“what you mean discuss?” she replied with a searching tone this time around.

“you’ll see.” he quietly said. “trust me for this, noona.”

after about ten minutes, all other band members gathered in minji’s room. most of them had been half asleep, closing their eyes or rubbing their faces trying to rid off the drowsiness until they heard it’s a serious matter of kiki. 

“what’s wrong with her?” mingyu broke the ice while bending his brows. “is everything okay?”

“she seems bit unwell, actually.” minji replied with a perfectly controlled voice tone. “we discussed maybe it’s better for her to take some rests before gets on a plane to korea.”

“okay,” seungkwan nodded with a concerned face. “are there some schedules for her this week? right after the supposed return to korea?”

“not that much. i will adjust that so it won’t affect others schedules or anything, so don’t worry.”

“i’m not worrying about ours... i thought she will feel responsible more then she should if such things happened,” he said in a bit of defense.

“i know seungkwanna,” jeonghan said with a soften voice. “how’s she doing?”

“she woke up an hour ago then fell back asleep now,” seungcheol answered.

“we also talked that it’s better for her to get doctor’s visit. i would keep in touch and update the info if there’s anything to let you know.”

“i think it’s a good idea,” minghao stated while playing with his sleeves. his face was almost covered fully by the hoodie but the tranquil voice somehow reached well to everyone’s ears. “she seemed so tired these days. i think we all bit frustrated because she obviously need some rests if you see her on outside of the stage, yet she do the concert perfectly every time, so we can’t find the excuse to persuade her to get some rest.”

“yeah,” jun nodded. “this tour is hard for all, and some of us couldn’t attend the stage almost each nights by turns. but it doesn’t mean the one who gets on the stage isn’t exhausted.”

jun and minghao, add joshua, the foreigner line — their bond and connections are always special. they shared the obstacle and struggles only they can share with each other. usually they weren’t the most copious talker among the group, but when it comes to kiki, the case would be different. 

“it’s always the hardest thing to tell her to back off from the job,” chan lower his gaze while scratching the back of his neck. “no doubt,” vernon let out the slightest chuckle.

“right? like, she kinda pushing workaholic agenda too much!” chan responded and everyone couldn’t hold their laugh that he sounded like so overwhelmed from bottom of his heart.

“alright, alright,” soonyoung gestured to calm everyone while trying to stop smiling since its a serious discussion. “now, what we gonna do?”

“you guys will back to korea following the original schedule,” minji answered, shooting a questioning look to the boys. “what do you even mean by that?”

“you mean... leave kiki in here? alone?” joshua asked quietly. minji tried to say yes — then realized. her gaze went back to seungcheol. he was just staring back at her, telling “i told you.” without using words. 

“but that’s... she’s sick, right?” mingyu tilted his head with confusion. “we can’t leave her.”

“of course it’s not entirely alone,” minji couldn’t help but let out the tiny sigh, brushing her hair back. “some of staffs including me will stay with her, make sure she will be okay.” 

a few moments of silent. the boys exchanged gaze with each other. they ain’t say a thing but the lack of words were speaking their claims more than anything. at that moment, the boy with a glass, who had been remained silent since he entered this room opened his mouth. “we don’t have schedules for few days after we head back to korea.” wonwoo said while turning off his phone, finished checking the group’s schedules. “we can stay with her.”

minji was both stressed and felt in her heart at the same time. the way these kids care and love each other — no matter how many years has passed, their bond grow stronger day by day. they are so sincere. however, if this was all about the ask that didn’t sound like reasonable at all, it’s a different story. 

“kids,” she gave up to hide the distress at this point. “i get you guys care about kiki so deeply, but think straight. we can’t just delay everyone’s flights for this. it’s unrealistic and preposterous. you know that, right?”

“the staffs and everyone can back to korea on schedule. just we will go back with kiki and the staffs, noona, the people who will stay with her. it’s not that crazy.” mingyu insisted, before jeonghan supported his opinion as “that’s right. we can’t take care of ourself. it will make us sick if we leave her alone while she’s in suffer.”

minji almost had done the face palm. it’s hard to say no when mingyu and jeonghan team up like this. they were both clever and smartest in seventeen. if the opponent was cold hearted cunning topsiders, it would be different. but minji also loves them after all. it’s hard for her when she can be in their shoes. besides — minji’s eyes went back to seungcheol again. he’s not even coming out yet. 

she let out a not-so-small-sigh as if waving the white flag. “alright, i’ll discuss with the chief first. but you guys better start packing the luggage since this isn’t the final decision yet, understand?”

“of course noona,” seungcheol grinned that looked like a smirk. “we will be a good boy...”

DAY 1 - 10:56 AM

she woke up from a cold chill. kiki tried to shook her head and wave off a bad feeling before groped the phone and check what time is it.  

“you awake?”

she slowly tuned at the someone’s voice from the behind. 

“jihoona...?” her voice was cracking, raspy. “what time is it? what about the flight?” jihoon put a restraining hand to her. “there’s a delay on the flight. we will stay here two more days, so don’t worry.” 

she then loosen the tension of her body, but the eyes still shooting him with a questioning look. “really? the weather looks fine tho,” he just shrugged as if didn’t matter. “i don’t know the details. maybe there has some trouble on the plane or something, i don’t know.”

“if that’s so...” her body sunk down to the mattress. “did you eat anything today?”

“not yet. some of them went down to the restaurant a while ago but i wasn’t hungry so i thought wait for you then share some meals.”

“i don’t feel to eat anything right now, you should eat something.”

“then i’ll eat here. is that okay?”

kiki blinked slowly, bit puzzled at the same time. he was kinda independent personality among the boys, had no problem with eat alone or spending time by himself in general. the way he asked for permission carefully like this was tend to irregular, whereas it’s not that strange to have the meals together. 

“sure, be my company.” she slowly gets up on the bed. she was listening absently to he ordering the room service over the phone. after hang up the call, jihoon looked back her and said, “could you stay up until 12 AM? minji noona said they booked the doctor’s appointment at that time.”

“i think so,” she felt half drowsy but nodded at his words. they heard the door chime shortly after, jihoon let the staff in and placed the table near by the bed. 

“there’s tomato soup in the menu so i ordered with some breads alongside the dishes for mine.” jihoon said as glancing up at her. “still not hungry?”

no, she’s not hungry yet, even after smelled the dishes in the air. but her brain started working finally, lead her to sit on the edge of the bed to eat, thought she should eat to take some nourishment since she barely eating anything from last night. 

“thanks. i’ll eat some,”

“good. you can have a bite from mine if you want.”

shortly after she started to take a sip from the spoon, someone knocked the door and vernon poked his head out from the door. 

“hey noona,” the younger boy slipped himself into the room. “how you feeling?

at this point, she finally realized her condition was a bit serious than she thought, in a bad way. the contrast of both jihoon and vernon made into actions about their worrying like this is far more than usual — not that they’re cold hearted person or anything, it’s about how different the way they cared about her. 

“i’m fine.”

but vernon walked straight up to her as if he didn’t heard the words. he gently placed a hand on her forehead and said, “bit feverish.”

“no i don’t.”

“noona, come on now.” the boy with a bit messy brown hair clearly trying to soothe her now. “you are not dumb enough to be unaware for your own conditions. just gave up and admit you don’t feel well. let us spoil you for once.”

“but you guys are tired too, why only i can stay still in bed like this,”

“we will also stay in bed and rest as much as we want, we don’t miss the opportunity. don’t worry about that.”

he smirked with a small hint of concern. 

“...okay.”

they all knew she wasn’t fully convinced. but for now this is the small victory. 

“just stop thinking about the job, okay?”

“i’ll try.”

“fine.”

he then turned his face to jihoon. “can we talk later about the track?”

“yeah, sure.”

DAY 1 - 1:06 PM

after the doctor’s examination, she was diagnosed as poor physical condition due to overwork and overuse of the autonomic nervous system. they strictly told them to get some proper rest, hopefully a week long.

“no,” kiki opposed weakly after received an i.v. “there’s so many things to do after i back to korea. we need to discuss the final design for the physical album package and edit new music video, also —”

“yes.” minji retorted decidedly, almost scolding her. “i’ll contract the team and adjust the work plan. they’ll understand. this is nonnegotiable.”

kiki didn’t said back anything, but that made joshua a bit anxious. he was there for the whole process with her. he could sense she felt a slight despair, thought she let others down, useless. 

“would you stay with her for a while?”

“yeah, no problem.”

the doctor also warned, she might have some fever tonight since i.v. won’t help to reduce the psychological stress. “i’m sick of this,” she murmured in the room minji left. they both got a whiff of her cologne in arid air of hotel. 

“you blaming yourself without any good reasons,” joshua tried to make a serious pitch. “it’s hard to see like you — not about the physical conditions, but the way you punish yourself like this. don’t you get how it hurts us? it’s a bit too much, kit-kat,” 

joshua’s voice, mixture of breaths — she covered her face with palms. “i know, i know i need to stop — but it’s hard. it’s getting harder day by day recently. why i can’t stop this? this — fucked up cycles?”

“you really do need a rest,” he caressed her bangs as she bit own lips in bitter feelings. 

“maybe i do.”

DAY 1 - 3:27 PM

“how’s noona?” soonyoung asked mingyu in the hallway. he was just getting out from her room. “it’s still low grade... but i think it’ll get more higher.”

“right... does she sleeping?”

“kinda? i mean, she just fell into. we need to cool her body and... keep hydrated if she woke again.”

“uh huh,” he nodded to mingyu but his mind was flying around her, and mingyu got that too. 

“it reminds the old days, isn’t it?” mingyu turned a bitter smile to the main dancer. his physique was nothing but masculine, strong and sturdy, but it was all facade now. almost had a vision of the dog ears hanging down on his head in soonyoung’s eyes. “if you think about, noona was always the one being cared for, not the one being taken care of, you know? it was pretty rare to see she being sick... how can that happen? everyone can get sick, that’s normal.”

“she’s very stoic... must’ve controlling her condition pretty carefully,” soonyoung leaned on the wall. 

“she won’t be like this at first place if she’s not this exhausted. she’ll let herself be sick so that she can get better. it’s... different, you know,” mini nodded, bites his lips. “i can’t get off the idea that we... might let be too late this time, she’s way beyond her limits.”

although the whole situation’s like the runaway train with a broken brake — no one knows how to stop it, able to do nothing but just watching it falls out from the cliff. all the boys felt bitter and responsible for let this happen, even it has nothing to do with them. 

DAY 1 - 6:07 PM

“kiki?” jeonghan’s voice tickles her ears. “you awake?” she still closing her eyes, unable to respond because not awake that much, but she can feel he bends over to check her expression because of the flickering of lights that she can sense through her eyelids. 

“how’s she?” it was minghao’s voice. then she finds out some coldness is on her forehead. “hao...?” kiki coughs but tries to voicing out her mind as much as possible. “hanni? is that you?” 

“yes kyo,” jeonghan’s sweet voice really works to calm her heart. limbs growing heavy. the whole vines and bones aching. the head is pounding. her whole body feels like burning, but kiki somehow felt peace. perhaps she finally accepts that she’s not well, not at all. “how you feeling?”

“cold...” she barely thought, so even herself surprised that she actually felt that way as she uttered. it feels like freezing. “i’m so cold.” she opened up her eyes. minghao wipes sweats out from her neck. “but it’s so hot,”

“i know noona. come on, drink some water,” he carefully hands the opened bottle. “you sweating a lot.”

it feels like a thousand years ago since last time she drink the water. the cold liquid flows down to her body through the throat, feels so nice. “i know you don’t feel well, but you need to eat something to take the pill. we bought fruit jelly, pudding, instant noodle, soup and popsicle.” 

“that’s many,” she laughed weakly. her cheeks are like a tomato to boys’ eyes. she must feels terrible, but somehow it also looked like kiki relieves at the same time. “maybe... maybe the soup, or jelly.”

“got it, i’ll bring to you.” minghao left from her sight. she slowly turned to jeonghan, who checking the cooling gel sheet mingyu miraculously found on the drugstore in neighbor is still cold enough. “you are sweating. maybe it’s good for you to wipe with clean towel and change some clothes now, so that back to sleep comfortable. you think you can do it?” 

“maybe,” she said before jeonghan nodded as “good.” 

minghao went back to her shortly after. jeonghan helped her to wake up her upper body, lean on the head board. she didn’t understand that much taste of consommé, but just eat something felt like a most exhausting labor. after she ate half of the orange jelly, minghao carefully observed she swallows every pills. 

“oh, and don’t forget to take a temperature.” jeonghan suddenly realized both completely forgot about that, said with a surprise how dumb they could be. “huh, 38.9 degree... it seems like not the highest.”

“yeah, maybe it’ll get more higher.” kiki nodded, said, “but once hit the highest, then it will go down eventually. just need a bit more patience.” minghao bites his lower lip. why she doesn’t stop to sooth us even like this time? are we that unreliable? 

“myeongho ya.” jeonghan gently calls the dancer boy. “it’s her body, she knows well about it. i was thinking maybe she can clean her body and change, you know?” minghao then realized it’s his consideration. “ah, yes... i’ll tell noona’s conditions to others.” 

“...i felt i did something wrong,” kiki murmured after he left the room. her speak was fuzzy, but the senses still sharp. jeonghan giggled about that, answered, “it’s okay, you are just being noona. now stop thinking and start changing, idiot.”

DAY 2 - 01:27 AM

something nice woke up kiki’s mind, brought it to the surface. something calm, soothing, make her feel like a home.

it’s a smell of the lavender. 

her world is dark, almost unable to see what’s in the room. she fumbled for her phone. it tells the date had changed already. after almost 7 hours of sleep, she feels somewhat better. there’s still dull weights on her core, but feels a step ahead to okay. then kiki saw the steam was billowing out of the white machine, found out that was what the nice aroma was all about. 

the door had opened with small noises. it was jun. “oh, sorry. did i wake you up?” 

“no, i just got awake. nice smell,” she waved her hand toward the humidifier. “is that you?”

“kinda. it was vernon who made a call to the reception.” he shrugged as if someone found the prank he had planned. jun reached kiki’s forehead, found out her gel sheet is clearly not cool enough and the tips are all dry. “i’ll grab another one. you want something?”

“uhm, something hot drink would be nice, if you have some,”

“okay, i’ll find something.”

it was a chamomile tea he brought to her shortly after, but the scent was more sweet than just tea. “i called my mom after the dinner, asked her how to make honey tea she usually made for me or my brother when we got sick. i couldn’t recreate perfectly tho — like it’s a teabag but, yeah.”

“wow... thank you. smells so nice,” she could let out a small smile like a sigh. the aroma of herb and honey permeated into her exhausted spine. the moment like this, it felt ages ago that she last spent time with them like this outside of schedules. just sits down and talking, no any stress or extra. 

it hits different. 

the taste of the honey melted on her tongue. it nothing but helped to ease the ick in her throat which was sitting through the entire day since the morning. kiki feels like she’s in the bottom of deep, deep hole. all black and the dark clings all the way to her shoulders to limbs. feels helpless. 

“still awake?” she asks jun, tries to hide the sniffle and teary eyes. “well, yep. the game i recently found — it’s really fun,” he rambles as scratching the back of head, knowing kiki isn’t always happy about her stay awake in late night because of the game. she never directly pointed out tho — because both knew it was kinda too much for the adult young man who is completely responsible for his own actions — but they also knew, sometimes caring and love could be a bit annoying. 

however, unlike his prediction, she just hummed with a smile at his guilty pleasure. he added in haste, “i know. i’ll make sure i won’t be too late.” then kiki shook her head slowly. “i am not some strict teacher, junnie. today is also off, right? you can stay late and oversleep sometimes. it’s fine.” 

jun nodded, but with a slight taste of awkwardness, not gonna lie. he tucked her hair behind the ears, stared at a chin, which looked like little too tighten. “you really should eat a lot after you get better... look boney, not good.”

“i miss your tomato and egg. would you make for me? after we back to korea?”

“anytime.”

he took the empty cup from her with himself. the nice warm tea started to make a nice effect on kiki’s body. her spine feels toasty, the mind starts melting on the pillow. she crawls herself between the sheets before let a small yawn escape from her. but when she starts dozing off, someone slips in oneself through the door — joshua brought the card key of her room and handed to boys in the morning. 

“junnie…?” she murmured under the sleepiness. “it’s me, noona.” soft, low voice whispered into her ear. “can i cuddle with you?”

“sure,” kiki lifted the sheets for him. “come in, wonwoo.”

he slid himself next to her. it feels secure when wonwoo buries his nose on her neck, limbs entangles her. his temperature was usually not that high, so it was nice to have his hand — not cold but not too hot that made her sweat neither — on her hand, holding loose, caressed back of her hand.  

“good night, wonwoo.” she whispered softly before she fell asleep. 

“good night, noona.” wonwoo hummed. “have a nice dream.”

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