#sorry im high as shit i kept forgetting i was typing this out and doing other shit

[badchoicesworld]

Hi i was wondering if you could do a male s/o that gets super insecure and uncomfortable when people look at his top surgery scars and he hates it when people miss gender him and Miles Morales Miles 42 Hobie Pavitr Prabhakar and Spider-Noir are there to defend or shut the people that miss gender him or glare at them to the point where the other person gets uncomfortable and stop looking at the male reader I'm sorry if it doesn't make sense i just type really fast and don't re-read it at some points

Anyways I absolutely love your writing work I really enjoy it and everything, have a lovely day or night ❤️💕

hobie, 1610!miles, 42!miles, pavitr and noir defending their transmasc partners

ok this took me a while i admit but i hope you enjoy !

established, separate relationships

warnings: i’m sleepy

pairing: hobie brown x transmasc!reader, earth-1610 miles morales x transmasc!reader, earth-42 miles morales x trans!mascreader, pavitr prabhakar x transmasc!reader, spider-noir x transmasc!reader

requests: check out the blog-guide for info !

he’s rapidly approaching

★⋆ ⋆☆⋆ ☠︎︎ ⋆☆⋆⋆★✧

punk personified

you two were getting ready for a sick concert you’ve been looking forward to for a small while now, moral is high and all’s good

ofc it’s punk, and hobie will be damned if you don’t dress the part with him

he started diying you guys outfits for this specific concert a few weeks beforehand, and he’s super proud of them ! very happy to show you and he hopes you like them

you like them . because i said so

however, it did include a shirt that looks like it had been torn up in every way possible

depending on what ur comfortable with, it can either be a crop top that rides up just a little too much when you jump about and stretch OR it’s one of those tank tops where the sides of your torso simply aren’t covered, very low cut sides

so yeah, your top surgery scars are in the breeze

intentional ? who knows, this is hobie we’re talking about

maybe hobie’s tryna get you to step out of your comfort zone and feel more comfortable in ur skin in an environment where he knows you won’t be judged

perhaps he simply did not take this into consideration because he doesn’t even think twice about ur scars

regardless, they’re out, you both look sick, im forever furious that we were deprived of tank top hobie in low riders PLEASE (he exists in my dreams)

the concert isn’t the problem- don’t call urself punk if ur a bigot we all know this

it’s the walk there that really sucked

you and hobie got some intense stares from people as you walked hand in hand to this thing

naturally, hobie ate that shit up, kept his head high the whole time and doesn’t bat an eye at this people

you’re not as confident, unfortunately . catching people looking at your scars makes you feel all sorts of insecure, which is valid man

hobie also gets this, and god knows he looks for every excuse to antagonise those closed minded people so he’s very content to start a fight

cant care less when it comes to people judging him, he knows who he is and he’s proud asf, not gonna waste his breath on that

but when hobie sees his boyfriend curling in on himself because of strangers in the street that aren’t shit, that’s when he can be bothered to pay some mind to them

it’s subtle, for your sake . doesn’t wanna draw any more attention and risk getting caught up in this when you’ve both been looking forward to this concert for so long

so instead of outright starting a fight, he uses that scary privilege he knows he has and just stared them down in such a disrespectful way

the way that you’re both dressed too, i’m sure that it works

doesn’t relent either, will stare until the other people stop staring

ideally ? he wants to make them walk away and stop bothering you, but he’s alright with exchanging a scowl for the person to look away instead, preferably in shame

when they’re taken care of, that’s that . he wants you two to forget about that and have fun at this gig, sound good ? he wants to see you genuinely enjoying yourself in your own skin, surrounded by the people that make him feel more like himself too

besides, scars are nothing to be ashamed of or to hide

the walk home is a lot more peaceful

★⋆ ⋆☆⋆ ☠︎︎ ⋆☆⋆⋆★✧

i’m sorry u were ever hurt

you two are off to the water park (using the american word, sorry fellow brits :() together, enjoy ur youth

imagine how cool you two are rolling up in ur swimming trunks

i wholeheartedly believe that miles is an absolute sap and would wanna match- i die on the hill that he’s a born to “hi ( ´ ▽ ` )ﾉ” forced to “wsg”

anyway, go have fun at the baths

that’s what miles expects anyway, fun with no strings attached, as most would

but that’s not how the world works, unfortunately

some people live to be hateful and have sad, empty, boring, gloomy, pathetic, waste of space lives, and you have to go through the misfortune of enduring some really vicious stares . all because you’re a guy with a few scars on his chest

people talk, you might overhear some stuff about ur character that makes you really insecure and upset

takes miles a little minute to clock the way you’re trying to fold your arms to hide your scars, but he catches on pretty quickly that it’s because of the people around you

is immediately by your side and looking concerned as hell

initially assumed that you might be in some pain, maybe the chlorine is fucking w ur scar tissue

sympathetic and checking in on you in the gentlest way when he notices that sadness

“w-hey, what’s happenin? you good?” standing really close and tilting his head to make eye contact with you if you’re looking down or away, hands are grazing your elbows to hold you

miles cares, a lot

speak ur mind man, tell him what’s going on

looks over your shoulder and at the people making you feel uncomfortable with that determined look

ushers you away, doesn’t want you around those kind people . bad vibes, he doesn’t fuck w it

probably goes snitch to staff lmao

and that’s how much he cares, he’d get stitches for u (ﾉд`)

but miles isn’t about to let the day be ruined by transphobes- god forbid

so he’s gonna try hard to make you forget about that interaction, it’s like a switch when he suddenly becomes all energetic again and is basically dragging you back towards the water

wants to hear you start laughing real fast

if miles venom striked the pool would everyone fucking die ?

★⋆ ⋆☆⋆ ☠︎︎ ⋆☆⋆⋆★✧

cat

GYM BABY

PE class gotta suck with all those bitchy teens being closed minded for no good reason and thinking it’s funny to openly judge and mock the things they don’t understand

miles is very mature and knows that bullying just isn’t cool, downright stupid and bullies should honestly be embarrassed to show their face

but because the changing rooms are so small, he can’t even attempt to ignore the comments he’s hearing, all directed at his boyfriend who’s just trying to change for class

you’re minding your own business, why can’t they mind theirs ?

is another person that doesn’t wanna give you a worse time by antagonising those freaks and picking a fight, will instead just stare over his shoulder

works, miles 42 has a mean side eye, straight up vicious

he knows that won’t resolve the issue, people are so resilient w their hate and

gets insanely irritated if someone suggests you changing somewhere else . honestly would just prefer for there to be some tension in the locker room instead of isolating you away while you changed, couldn’t stand that idea because it’s flat out not fair . on top of a number of other things

can ignore the tension, doesn’t know about you

talks to you about not backing down, you have every right ro be in there and you shouldn’t feel in any way negatively about it

don’t give those closed minded people the satisfaction of making you feel bad about yourself and accommodating to them

makes an excellent point one day

“why are you watchin’ my boyfriend change..?” says it so slowly and it got real awkward after that

won’t tell a teacher unless you want to, then he’ll be moral support and be waiting for you outside the office

anyway, man’s got a killer deadeye to keep people in line and tries to not antagonise people too much

just get changed, that’s what you’re there to do people

stop being weird abt it

★⋆ ⋆☆⋆ ☠︎︎ ⋆☆⋆⋆★✧

please don’t die

i’m a huge fan of those people that see a trans flag and immediately try to pull a “you’ll never be a real woman >:C” to a trans man

like yeah, thanks man, really appreciate it

it’s happened to you once or twice in the street, you or pav have some kind of pin or smthn and you’re literally just approached by strangers who have nothing better to do with their day

the most meaningful thing abt it is talking to you two honestly, ur just that cool

i can see him reading people just to point out their insecurities because violence isn’t the answer

it’s a last resort, but imagine you two simply minding your own business and this blank slate of a person decides to make a comment on your masculinity

“it’s okay sweetie, they’re just trying to overcompensate for their lack of a personality ! (๑˃́ꇴ˂̀๑)” huh 👁️👁️

pays literally no mind to them, pretends nothing happens and keeps walking with you

it’s like an invisible force field, bounces right off of him and somehow hurts the other person more

walking embodiment of that “i am rubber you are glue, what bounces off of me stick to you” and he probably recites that, too

but yeah, so insanely unbothered that i would maybe check up on him from time to time ? how is he always so chipper ? is bro good ?

but it’s infectious, so you can’t let it get to you either, it’s hard to feel sad around pav

he will somehow coincidentally always find something to immediately take ur mind off if it

after a shitty interaction with someone talking about pronouns and how theirs are an inanimate object, he miraculously spots a food stand you guys haven’t tried yet

does that Σ(ﾟロﾟ) face of his while gasping and drags you over, no questions asked

interrupts the person with the longest gasp, one would assume he hadn’t had a breath of fresh air ever

“look look! we have to try it!” pointing like that fuckin Soyjaks meme and ur gone, bigot is left in the dust

i’ve heard food is great therapy, and he believes so too

so scran down on some good street food while pavitr looks like a beam of sunshine despite just ruining a persons self esteem for the rest of their lie

it’s deserved though, so you can both sleep well

yknow what else slaps ? some chai, go home and have some w his aunty who thinks you’ve a very handsome young man

★⋆ ⋆☆⋆ ☠︎︎ ⋆☆⋆⋆★✧

why the fuck is he so broad hang on

she/her a he/him and get shot, idk mans got a whole firearm for a reason

it’s takes him a little while to understand trans slander, but eventually it becomes like a fine art to him because i think he has a tendency to hyperfixate on things until he understands them in violent detail (autistic. he’s violently autistic coded. cant read a room, hyperfixated on his favourite colour, struggles to express himself through his tone.. yknow)

so if one day someone happens to catch sight of your scars and starts to talk shit in whatever 30’s slang from his dimension and modern slang from your own, he is so ready to give this speech on discrimination

theres a power point slide too but he doesn’t know how that works

gives up not even half way because he got frustrated and started cursing them out instead

“look, you seem like lovely people- no, no you don’t”

he has anger issues

there’s a lot of “and my boyfriend!” followed by a compliment, he managed to throw a few in there for good measure

says something about the colour purple at one point, i don’t know how that happened

please steer him away before someone gets shot over colour theory (surprised it hasn’t happened yet, ammarite fellow artists ? 😀 )

apologises for getting carried away, has to stop himself from talking about colours again he’s just such a peter and so unserious

“i’m sorry i- that must have been hard for you” clearly it was harder for u dear god

is likely the most insistent on doing anything and everything to make you feel better, is open to suggestions and is basically begging for them

while everyone else is low-key for ur own sake, this man’s about to buy you the world with his 4 dollars which is pretty impressive in his dimension

insists on doing your favourite things, is suggesting this and that, left right and centre

is convinced it’s the end of the world, this is reinforced since you seemed so upset and uncomfortable being misgendered by some people on the street

if you’re plenty happy to settle doing something, he’s thrilled and is giving it his 110% just for you

go watch a movie, careful not to point out the colours of noir will then realise that movies are no longer in black and white and starts asking you if everything is purple

“what a lovely purple :]” pan to like a whole pyramid

★⋆ ⋆☆⋆ ☠︎︎ ⋆☆⋆⋆★✧

anyway, can you tell that hobie is easiest for me to write for and that i was running out of ideas ?

let me know how you feel about it !

if this flops i’m gonna have to go on a long stroll

[joonkorre]

finished s3e7. absolute banger of an episode, said even more "wtf"s than last time but the tension throughout and how it tied everything up gave me the same high as s2 did. so spoilers (the way i just put everything out there for the previous episode reviews???? fandom etiquette where omg im so sorry to the 3 people who may be seeing this)

idek where they were going w chiyoh. like ok yall give me 2 east asian ladies, 1 died to propel will's drive for vengeance and 1 has some mysterious motivation that explains nothing that she does. the only thing she got going on is her steadfast sense of morality, which kept her from being manipulated by will (who's trying to convince himself that anyone can be primed by hannibal and is using the same tricks on her, poor thing) and let her focus on her goals, whatever tf they are. like good for her but.... what does she actually want???? whatever at least she looks cool.

the painting behind mason is so… ugh just in case the audience keke too much over his jokes and forget the type of mf he is lmao. and the surrogate convo between the verger siblings is so so fucking chilling dude I knew I KNEW right away what margot’s gonna find and it sent chills up my spine dude

I like how hannibal is unfazed by literally everything and discusses his being cooked and eaten with gusto and dare I say it, excitement. and I like how after a season of chasing after hannibal, that final betrayal of nearly getting his head cut open just made will so done w everything. did a complete 180. “you’re gonna eat him... w my face” and how he looks at hannibal and cordell as they talk….. get him out !!!!!

also: cordell. love his character. the perfect goon.

mason and his shitty fucking jokes. and just in case anybody wants to deny the homoerotic undertone of hannigram, let’s throw in that guy who ate his friend’s dick. lovely dinner topics.

loveeeeee that will bit out a chunk of cordell’s face and just how proud hannibal is in that moment. will just wants to get his lick back one last time, while hannibal’s still stuck in delulu land w/ them getting tortured + dying together, and takes will’s action as him being hannibal’s equal. he thinks they’re still friends/together and it’s soooooo funny

the branding scene + hannibal being tied up like a pig???? big day for subby painslut piggy hannibal truthers. I’m cheering for yall from the sidelines <3

the marlana + hannibal convo and him being broken free….. cinema. CINEMAAAA

the pig. good god the pig. knowing it’s coming didn’t prepare me for actually seeing it at all. and the fact that mason STILL mocked and denied margot of this one thing in this manner. god. the intercutting scenes of marlana getting the baby out + face off surgery are just chef’s kiss. so well edited that I genuinely believed will was done for like omg I woulda passed out if it’s not for mason’s face reveal. LOVE all the blood

white knight hannibal bridal carrying damsel in distress will???? don’t mind if I do 😋😋😋

marlana killing mason scene!!! margot w/ that fit, that hair, that shaky devastated enraged voice, and the tear-streaked mascara running down her face gives just the perfect level of drama. perfect killing-your-abusive-brother look. and the way they had time for hannibal to prostate milk mason ????? alana holding up a tube of sperm while the show censors the shit out of everything is so ?????? and yes YES CHEKOV’S EEL. after all the bj jokes of course he’d have to die that way. OF COURSE. although idk how they’re gonna have that baby but ig we’ll find out...

hannibal + chiyoh behind that window like they’re in a periodic table…. and hannibal moving toward that area between iron and silver…. CINEMAAAAAA

I see the teacup breaking as hannigram’s relationship + will’s becoming, esp since it’s superimposed over will’s head. bc it’s in his head, he’s making the logical leap to end hannibal’s hold over him, end whatever mania he was caught up in while trying to bait/chase hannibal. it’s done. read on reddit that hannibal’s notes full of physics equations may represent hannibal trying to calculate how the cup can feasibly come back together again or how he can turn back time to repair their relationship (both might as well mean the same thing). it can also represent the end of hannibal’s whimsy. they’re done touring the world and visiting museums and playing mindgames according to hannibal’s puppeteering. now they’re back in the wolf trap, back in the real world, where broken cups don’t mend themselves, where will decides that he wants nothing to do w hannibal and his whimsy anymore. they’re done.

I love how the season could’ve ended here as will guts hannibal the same way hannibal gutted will in s2: with surgical precision. he knows hannibal cares not for his life or death, and causing bodily harm upon him will only delight him more. so will goes for the heart. he knows himself well enough now to assert that he may tolerate killing, but he doesn’t have hannibal’s appetite. he won’t be hannibal’s pet nor friend. by exiling and forgetting him, will puts himself above hannibal as a god, and hannibal is helpless in his worship. he can do nothing but retreat as his offerings are rejected. and by god I’ve never seen him so completely hurt and devastated before. absolutely nothing has ever illicit such a reaction from him until will. jfc I HATE GAY PEOPLE WHY CANT YALL JUST BREAK UP NORMALLY

that was a good godfather II reference tho like omg

where the FAWK are will’s dogs. where’s my bby winston ????

love that jack’s back w the fbi !!!! will coming out and saying hannibal’s gone only for the little shit to emerge from the back like haiiiiiiii :3 girl UGH ik will was sick to his stomach likeeee

I cannot stop thinking about how it’s dark out at god knows what time. how hannibal sat behind will’s house in the snow like a stray dog recently abandoned by its newest benefactor and it can’t bring itself to leave, it won’t ever leave (girl don’t even get me started on that…. it will come back by hozier already got me in a chokehold). waiting for jack to arrive and turning himself in, denying jack the pleasure of actually subduing and capturing him. freeing chiyoh from her prison ig. AND getting his lick back at will. “I want you to know exactly where I am. and where you can always find me.” + the pettiest bitchiest look ever. it’s a pathetic, lowly declaration of bullheaded love born from spite, making sure will can never truly forget him and has to live w the knowledge of his location/fate in the back of his head. knowing full well will can’t help himself and are prolly gonna go find hannibal. once again I HATE GAY PEOPLE

jack looking at will w that smile/grimace on his face. I take it as him knowing that this is just another lovers’ tiff btwn hannigram and he’s basically an accessory to that lmao

100/10. once again a banger of an episode.

[bottomshanerights]

fuck it, consider: Shane said on Miss Unsinkable that he cries when people go out of their way to be nice, we know he has a praise kink and massive emotional constipation, I propose Steshyan where they both praise their cute tall but small beanpole until he's (cathartically obv) overwhelmed

THATS EXACTLY WHAT IVE BEEN THINKING ABT SINCE I MENTIONED STESHYAN HERE

Like maybe shanes been a little more insecure recently and steven and ryan have already caught onto how shane responds to praise (which is to say doing anything for it, despite the fact he almost refuses to take a compliment except from them in private where he craves it) so the two of them are like originally just planning on absolutely doting on shane gently pulling him into bed, steven sitting up on the headboard they tuck shane into his chest and ryan could crawl into his lap just surrounded by them and theyre just treating him like hes something special

Im 🥺🥺 abt this whole thing but shane being like ok i get it but now im hard and my hot bfs are complimenting me and i feel like i dont deserve it so id rather if we just fucked and steven and ryan are like Its Offical Loving My Bf Hours and theyre just taking things painfully slow but it makes it feel a lot more intimate and doesnt leave space for shane to deflect compliments and he doesnt really want them to stop either and he just needs it and its really clear how badly he needs it when he just melts in their arms and interrupts steven for a kiss and ryans hands slide under shanes shirt as he speaks lowly they undress him like theyre opening a present and maybe its when he gets that skin to skin cuddles that has esclated to grinding but they dont let him focus on them for too long making sure to bring it back to taking care of shane but once he gets steven to take off his own shirt and ryans only in his boxers and shanes naked that he realizes like He’s Gonna Cry bc hes just overwhelmed with how loved he feels and how safe and he has two boyfriends that planned things to help him over something that he probably feels like is really small

Scares both his boyfriends when they see his tears but once he explains the concern melts to just like love and he recieves the most intimate handjob of his life and he definately cries and they were planning on it just being abt shane but he just wants to feel so surrounded by them and asks to be fucked and What Shane Wants Shane Gets

[kidnamedfinger]

Yup! You got it! Wendy has a more standard kpop voice, and like Taeyeon she has the range that sm likes (*though the caveat I think is that Taeyeon has a really strong middle range that the Korean gp loves) so just on top of being a technically proficient singer, she gets more lines. The big tell is that Seulgi is a stronger TECHNICAL singer than Irene-but Seulgi gets very specific parts in red velvet songs similar to Jessica-but Irene in general gets more lines/or full versus versus the "umph" parts. And a good example of technical skill not really mattering all that much after having one or two proficient singers is that Joy and Irene are evenly matched, just that Irene simultaneously has the Kpop visual thing/A brighter tone-so who gets more lines?

It's why kpop fans, but people in general look very silly doing those vocal rankings to anyone that has ACTUAL history doing music, or using their vocal/musical training to essentially shit on people lol. It absolutely doesn't matter that so and so is breathey as long as they get the note out-its about if the SOUND is nice to you. And even then that's so subjective. It's like when people get at Rose damaging her voice. She's just using more air-and she sings, like in a group of FOUR ppl, seconds to maybe 1 minute of a 3/4 minute song. That's a perfectly fine way for her to sing lol and that "nasally" sound is most likely on PURPOSE. Yg isnt making her damage her voice lol. (A big way to tell if someone knows what they're talking about is vocal nodules-Mariah Carey/Whiteny Houstan/Adele ect have all had them-its not a sign of poor singing-most people have them lol. It's a sign if vocal fold use-and singers just use them more- Mariah Carey kept hers for years because she thought it made her sing better). It's all about vocal tone/affect-and in pop music especially it seems like such a silly thing to fight Abt when people are trained/guided/vocal souped to sound as similarly to each other as possible.

omg yes i agree, some popular singers dont sound like that plain wendy/etc sound but theyre not worse than her/those plain types just bc they sound unique. do you think there is still a place for the vocal rankings that go really into the study of vocals as an instrument, e.g. finding ppls breaks and whether they can support different registers? i dont know enough about that theory but i think that is still interesting on the technical side, altho maybe that style of ranking is biased towards like "classically" singing in a specific way.

im watching the universe behind rn (fortuitous bc that song has been in my head for days haha), and i can definitely see that even more than usual theyre cutting and jumping around the recording sessions with different people - seems they had trouble getting the right vocal parts with this song. and also the part where doyoung flubs the high note and he says smth like "did you guys do this to everyone else too" and the pd says "yeah its been like this all day." its so fascinating, the voices of other people are basically another instrument that is co-played by the vocalist (if their musicality is appreciated by the pd) and the pd. again... im still high lol... but i feel like u can see with dy/hc they have ideas in terms of musicality/interpreting a phrase but ultimately are mostly accepting and quickly integrating pd feedback for the final tracks. and then theres ppl like yangyang jaemin shotaro who shouldnt even bother bringing in a pencil to take personal notes bc the pd is completely controlling their vocals (unless theyre like me and forget feedback lol but that would be an especially sorry commentary on their vocal skills). im gonna appreciate more those soloists who try their hands at writing/composing etc and are on smaller labels, yes the production cant always be so slick and doesnt go thru as many ppl before it goes out but i kind of like that.

do you have any commentary on how seventeen and stray kidz "self produce" songs? how much of that is actually self-production? and it has obviously been a unique niche and successful choice for sm to be the least authentic of its peers in terms of letting idols have basically any input in recording, but why do you think they went in that direction/have been strict about it with some (girl) groups and more lenient about letting other (boy) groups write their own stuff?

edit it seems like mark has the most ideas out of all of them but in this instance it doesnt seem like pd kept most of em! jeno has a few ideas too and seems to be good at implementing feedback but then he says "idk how the mix will sound but i wish i could have done something more" ... plus dy saying "thank god i get to do something this time" what do they MEAN???!!! also why is favorite playing in the bg at some point

edit 2 there are points at the end of that vid where doyoung straight up misses 2 of the chorus melodies like it looks like its his first or second time hearing the song ever and its while hes already in the production booth. he is super facile with the song all the other moments in that video except for that moment and thats so curious to me. i guess i assume ppl walk around listening to their song before they record it like in drag race LOLLL

[cotncandyboifics]

Why'd You Only Call Me When You're High?

AO3 Link

My Main Masterpost

Pairing(s): Romantic Dukexiety

Word count: 6.9k (Remus would be proud)

Story summary: A pseudo-songfic; 5 times Remus called Virgil high, and one time Virgil called Remus high.

Content Warning: Marijuana, Characters high on Marijuana, Description of the experience of being high on marijuana, Food, descriptions of eating, descriptions of preparing food, vague anxiety descriptions, insomnia, cursing, Remus Being Remus,(let me know if i missed anything please!)

Author notes: this is just. dorky fluff stuff. Idek lol. Enjoy

...

Virgil grimaced vaguely at his phone, which had begun to buzz periodically. More specifically; Virgil was glaring at the displayed name at the top of the screen, communicating who was currently calling him.

TrashMan 42069 is calling...

Remus never called Virgil. As in... never never. And even if he did, it was 7 am; Virgil sincerely doubted that Remus I-wake-up-at-2-pm-every-day Prince had ever been awake at this time of morning in his life.

The call didn't stop after 5 buzzes, and so Virgil picked his phone up, hurriedly accepting the call and pressing the phone to his face.

"uuum, hiiii...." Remus drawled from the other end of the line. Virgil scoffed under his breath. "I'll have a.... extra large cheese pizza, and another extra large with... extra anchovies...." Remus continued. Virgil genuinely couldn't tell whether Remus thought he was actually talking to a Pizza parlor employee or not, but more pertinently, he was very much disconcerted by the way Remus was acting. He had half a mind to ask if he'd hit his head on something, but... Virgil was gradually growing used to Remus' antics, and every time he'd asked out of his own anxieties in the past, Remus had been More Than Fine. He pushed his nerviness aside with a heavy sigh.

"Re, what are you doing?" his voice came out a bit husky, and Virgil realized this was the first time he'd spoken that day.

Remus didn't reply for a few long moments. Of course, this had exactly nothing to do with the fact that he was having a gay panic over the sound of Virgil's morning voice, which - again - was decidedly not happening.

"Haay Virge," Remus scarcely strung his words together, and they fell on top of each other as they rolled off his tongue in a quite klutzy fashion. It was almost soothing, in its way. "I thought if I pretended that you... that I was... that I thought you were a pizza man, then I'd forget to do... why I called you." Remus scrunched his nose to himself, taking his time to find his words, but eventually he got there. Virgil had been struck with realization part way through Remus' rambling, and was now scowling as if Remus could hear his facial expression through the phone.

"Remus, are you seriously high right now?" Virgil hissed.

"I mean... I think so... I definitely remember..." he pointedly enunciated each syllable of 'definitely remember,' before seemingly getting distracted by his thoughts. Virgil cleared his throat to prompt him. "...uhhhh... I don't wanna call you. Why did I... think that was...good." Virgil couldn't tell if Remus was talking to himself or not.

"Dude, go take a shower and... like, drink some water or something. I'll see you at work later. Please come in a better mental state than you're in now." Virgil hung up, setting his phone back down on his desk face-down, resuming his script read-through of the next production being put on at the theater he worked for.

Several hours later, Virgil was adjusting a few bolts on a light fixture, one of many all lined up on the long bar that he'd lowered from the fly deck earlier. He and Remus were stage technicians, and had both worked at this theater together for nearly two years now.

Remus burst through the set of doors off stage left, arms wide and his custom green tool belt slung over one shoulder like a sash. He bowed a bit dramatically to the stage and everyone on it (which, at the moment, was only Virgil; they were the only two in the theater, since Virgil regularly showed up early and Remus was here early too for once for... some reason) before stepping in long strides toward a burnt out light fixture, a few feet away from Virgil.

"You good?" Virgil murmured, feigning intense focus on a particular few wires. Remus had learned by now that Virgil was a man of few words and many thoughts; there was always a lot more to what he was saying than the small string of words he poured out.

"Heh. Sorry about that. I woke up in a funk, and though a wake and bake might... help. Didn't anticipate calling... you, though." he rubbed the back of his neck a bit sheepishly, focusing his line of sight on the company logo branded into the lighting fixture. "Can't say it won't happen again though! If I call you when I'm that stoned it means I really, really like you," Remus waggled his eyebrows, winking (specifically to highlight his sarcasm - a wink was a telltale sign that Remus' words were entirely a joke) at an utterly deadpan Virgil.

"Sure." Virgil paused for a moment. "Why're you here so early though?"

"Huh?" Remus replied, finishing twisting the bulb out of the fixture before looking up at Virgil, who was now presenting his phone screen to Remus, showing him the time. "Damn! High me can get punctuality! I thought it was three, not  two... I was wondering why you were the only one here!" Remus had resumed his adjusting of the light fixture, hunkered over and partially upside down in a way that made Virgil's stomach churn. He only grunted in reply.

...

A recent sound design project had Virgil and Remus talking a lot more than usual - nearly every day. Virgil thought Remus would be a massive pain in the ass to work with, but he was a surprisingly diligent project partner. His ideas were often... eccentric, and at times too far-fetched, but they served as an excellent foundation. They clashed well with Virgil's taste and general groundedness (by extension, a minuscule helping of insecurity) that he brought to the table. They'd worked together over discord for the last few days, voice chatting and messaging through brainstorming sessions and developing their project.

It was 5pm, and Virgil was just beginning chopping some potatoes for a mash dinner when a message notification popped up on his phone.

TrashMan 42069 im tiiiired. gotta get up early to head into the theater, can we work tmrw mornin instead of tn ? wanna have an early night

Virgil smirked to himself, typing out a response.

since when do you sleep before 1am

but like, go off ig

see ya in the ams

Remus never responded, and Virgil resumed his chopping, and soon was plopping the potato portions into a pre-simmering pot.

Night arrived and fell entirely, leaving Virgil alone with his thoughts in bed, staring at the ceiling desperately as if it would put him to sleep. His bouts of insomnia made for horrible company, and yet another reminder of just how awfully lonely he truly was. He rolled onto his side, facing his bedside table just as his phone lit up and started buzzing.

Remus. Again. Odd. And it was... 11pm, according to the bleary text in the top corner of Virgil's phone screen. Not too bad, I might get to sleep by 2, Virgil noted to himself. He accepted the call before his drowsy brain could think through the decision.

"Shit, hi," Remus breathed. The usual sharp edge of his brash voice was gone, leaving soft, rolling words in its wake. Virgil sighed to himself.

"Hi."

"Did I awaken you from the sleep? I didn't think you'd answer..." Virgil recognized the drawl in Remus' voice then, but he didn't mind it so much. He was too tired to be grumpy about this.

"No, I couldn't sleep. I thought you were having an early night?" Virgil ran his fingers through his hair, rolling back onto his back.

"Ah... right... I told you that..." Remus spoke slowly, as if carrying each word, each syllable the way a mother carries her child. Virgil smiled softly into the darkness. "I was feeling like shit, so... I was just gonna, toke up. Knew I... wouldn't be able to... do any of the project... like this."

"Gotcha," Virgil mumbled. He had closed his eyes, letting himself ease into the sound of Remus' uncharacteristically gentle voice.

Remus started humming on the other end of the line, and that only proved to relax Virgil more. He felt himself grow heavy in the bed, limbs going slack and muscles and tendons untensing.

"Are you still alive?" Remus spoke suddenly. Virgil hummed.

"Yeah, I think so," Virgil said. "Your humming is putting me to sleep," he laughed lightly. Remus grew silent. "Uh, that's not a bad thing," Virgil resolved, "I have a hard time... sleeping, sometimes. Nothing usually helps. That's... uh, helping. If you wanna keep... humming, or talking..." As he spoke, Virgil realized just how weird what he was saying - what he was asking for - truly was. He cleared his throat. "Nevermind."

"I have nothing better to do right now, I can hum you to sleep, Virge," Remus' careful voice replied, ever so slowly. "If that's... what... you meant."

"Um," Virgil chewed on his hoodie sleeve absent-mindedly. "Yeah," he finally huffed, "I'd... like that."

Virgil anticipated a lot more awkwardness at this entire situation from Remus. But Remus was a generally oblivious person to awkwardness, seemingly especially so when he was stoned. He almost immediately resumed his humming, and Virgil was out like a light less than ten minutes later.

"Virgie? Did you go... fall into the sleep?" Remus asked after a while. When he was met with silence other than subtle, even breaths, he smiled to himself. He'd helped someone, even while he was like this. He truly didn't want to be doing anything else right now, so he just kept humming into the phone for a while. Maybe it'll help Virgil sleep even better.

The thoughts that an intoxicated mind produces truly are an enigma.

...

Remus and Virgil's sound design project was one of three being proposed to the directors and head technicians for the next production. The three were created as presentations, just the general idea of the design put together so that the one chosen of the three could be put into proper production by the entire sound team.

Virgil's and Remus' won.

They celebrated by indulging in a pizza lunch together before they were to head into work. A large, half pepperoni and half anchovies.

"Are those things actually good, or do you just eat them because everyone else thinks they're gross?" Virgil asked, chasing the floppy end of his next slice with his mouth. Remus grinned with a glint in his eye that Virgil knew all too well; it meant one thing, and one thing only. Mischief.

"Whah if ih's bof?" Remus spoke through his mouthful of anchovy pizza. Virgil scrunched his nose, punching Remus in the shoulder.

"Chew your food and don't talk with your mouth full, that's hecka nasty dude," Virgil laughed. Remus rolled his eyes in a very unconvincing manner, considering he was still smiling.

"Yef, mom," Remus spoke again through his unfinished mouthful. Virgil shoulder bumped him, and finally took the first bite of his next slice.

Not a week later, Virgil woke up rather late. Well, late for him; around 7am. He slapped a hand to his forehead, sitting up a little too fast. He set his hands on the bed beside himself to try and fight the onset of dizziness. After a few deep breaths and shaking his head and hair out, he reached for his phone.

No notifications, other than 2 missed calls from Remus, at 3:12am. Virgil sighed, laughing to himself slightly. He opened his messaging app.

why do u only call me when ur high lmao

...

Virgil was at the grocery store, milling through the dairy aisle, when his phone started buzzing in his pocket. He was surprised to see Remus' contact as the displayed caller ID, although not that surprised. Remus had called Virgil a few times while he wasn't high since Virgil had sent that message, usually to discuss theater-related things. Though, it wasn't like him to call at 8 in the morning. Virgil pressed the answer button, bringing the phone to his ear.

"Hey Re, what's up?" Virgil said as he started checking the expiration dates on a few cartons of heavy whipping cream.

"Virgieee... Are you walking around with no shoes on?" Remus' voice was calm and subdued.

"Uh-" Virgil was so caught off guard by the question -and the petname- that he literally looked down at his feet to check. Nope, he'd definitely put on his black high tops that morning. "No? I'm at the grocery store. Wh... what?"

"I saw someone," Remus blurted, speaking slowly. Oh, right. Virgil's lips tightened into a annoyed-and-disappointed expression. Of course he's just baked again. "They looked like you, kinda... no purple hair... but jacket- or, i mean, sweater... uhhhm, no... what's it called?"

"My hoodie?" Virgil offered, glancing down at his purple patchwork hoodie.

"Yeah, yeah, that," Remus drew in a long heavy breath. "they had a hoodie." Remus stopped then, as if awaiting Virgil's explanation expectantly. Virgil scoffed.

"So. You saw someone walking around with no shoes on, who looked kind of like me only based on the fact that they were wearing a hoodie?" Virgil recited.

"Well, yeah!" Remus said as if offended that Virgil needed to ask. "They were black shoes, and... and the hoodie was... just like your black plaid one."

"The one that I like... never wear? How do you even... have you even seen me wear that?" Virgil didn't know why he was asking; he must have if he knew of it.

"You did," Remus started slowly, "one time. The pizza time. Said your other one was dirty." Remus spoke like a small child who was being scolded and felt really bad for what they'd done. "And I thought... maybe you'd... dyed your hair back. I don't know why." Virgil sighed.

"Okay? Well, I promise I have my shoes on, and my hair is still purple, and I'm not wearing that hoodie today. I'm at the grocery store right now." Virgil's voice was harsh and quick, and he immediately felt guilt drop into his stomach like a brick. He had no real reason to be this cross with Remus... he was just a bit cranky that morning. "Can I... pick you up anything while I'm here?" Virgil immediately cringed at his attempt at amendment. What a weird thing to say-

"Ooh! Are you at Trader Joe's?" Remus' voice had a newfound excitement. Virgil smiled to himself, glad that his fumbled recovery wasn't really very fumbled, thanks to Remus'... Remus-y-ness. "They have these chocolate truffles that are soooo good..."

Remus gave moderately incoherent directions to where the truffles were shelved, though Virgil knew his way around the store enough that it didn't matter. After a few minutes, he came upon a small red carboard box with cursive gold lettering and a picture of a chocolate truffle on the front.

"Found them. I... text me your address? I can be over in... well, soon. I guess I don't know where you live." Virgil invited himself over extremely awkwardly.

"You got it, sunshine! See you soon," Remus' tone was a lot lighter and he spoke more quickly and sharply, as he did when he wasn't stoned out of his mind. Perhaps the prospect of having his favorite chocolate truffles had granted him some mental clarity.

The call ended, and moments later, two texts came through from Remus. The first was an address, as promised. The second left Virgil with a familiar sense of blind confusion.

ill start heating the milk

Virgil slid his phone back into his pocket, humming to himself. He'd gotten all the items on his grocery list already, so he headed to checkout. Soon after, he was loading a couple bags into the back seat of his car, setting the two boxes of truffles for Remus on the passenger seat as he strapped in.

The drive was surprisingly short to Remus'; less than ten minutes. He triple checked the address when he pulled up to a three story Victorian house, three doors lined up at the top of a set of marble steps.

He took a breath or two, staring down at the boxes of truffles in his hands and reassessing his situation. You're standing in front of Remus' house like a massive dork because you felt bad for getting annoyed at him on the phone. You decided completely on a whim to bring him some chocolate - of all things, but at least he's the one who specifically asked for it - and show up to his house???? his house. Yeah, this totally isn't weird at all.

Virgil took the steps two at a time, ringing the doorbell at the door farthest to the right. He heard the chime from inside, followed shortly by a shrill screech. A few moments later, there was stomping sounds, and Remus came into view through the window on the door, trampling down the stairs like an eight year old rushing to an ice cream truck. He made it to the door, unlocking it and flinging it open.

"VIRGIE!" Remus yelped, looking ready to bear hug Virgil, but was quickly distracted into marveling over the boxes of truffles Virgil was clinging to his chest. "You bought two!? Gods, this is better than Christmas! Get in here," Remus stepped behind the door, allowing Virgil to step inside.

"Did you... screech, a minute ago?" Virgil asked, looking around. He and Remus were standing in what served as a tiny, tiny foyer, a small rectangle of flooring that gave direct way to a rather large flight of wooden stairs. Virgil could see a shoe cubby and coat rack at the top of the steps, and started stepping up them cautiously as Remus closed the door behind him.

"Yeah. People usually can't hear if I say words, like 'COMING!', so I just kinda... scream. It works!" Remus was tromping up the steps a few stairs below him, and Virgil quickened his pace.

"Got it..."

Virgil slipped his shoes off at the top, stuffing them in the cubby. "See? Shoes," he gestured to the shoes now fit snug in one of the cubbies. Remus smiled a bit too wide, nodding his head harshly. "I also don't have that hoodie on today," Virgil spread his arms, displaying his usual patchwork hoodie.

"I'm mainly glad your hair is still purple. It looks h- I mean, I like it." Remus coughed slightly to himself before stepping around Virgil, starting to sock-slide down the hardwood floor hall. "Kitchen's through here! The milk should be ready!"

Virgil laughed to himself, stepping into the hall to follow Remus' trail. He came upon a slightly ajar door, and seeing a glimpse of a stovetop, he slid into the room.

"I also made some whipped cream!" Remus gestured behind himself at a bowl of whipped cream on the counter as he stirred at a simmering pot of milk.

"What's... what's it for?" Virgil asked slowly, feeling like he missed something entirely.

"Oh! Right," Remus seemed to realize he hadn't filled Virgil in. "The truffles are so frickin good by themselves, but I discovered - sort of by accident, don't worry about it - that they make the best hot chocolate. And I... well, I figured we could have some!" Remus spun around at the last part, saucer of milk in hand and smiling a bit maniacally at Virgil. He stepped over to the counter where there were two mugs beside the bowl of whipped cream. "Bring them things on over here. This show can't go on without the starring role."

Virgil shuffled over to Remus, setting the truffles down beside the whipped cream bowls. He felt the need to speak, but couldn't think of any suitable words.

"one or two? I usually do two, I like mine real rich," Remus said, tearing open one of the boxes of truffles.

"Two," Virgil coughed. Remus smiled brightly at him again.

Virgil observed Remus' process. He plopped two truffles into the bottom of each mug - in the process, popping one into his mouth and offering another to Virgil, who accepted - before pouring the steaming milk over them, nearly to the brim of both mugs. Virgil hadn't expected the truffles to float, but there were two bobbing brown balls rolling around on the surface of the steaming milk in each mug. Remus retrieved a small spoon, stirring gingerly as the truffles rapidly shrunk and dissipated into the darkening milk.

"Will you grab the chocolate syrup? It's in the door of the fridge," Remus commented, beginning to spoon whipped cream onto the surface of the hot chocolate. "Oh, and- nevermind, I got it." Remus reached into a drawer beside him, pulling out a small cheese grater.

Virgil returned with the chocolate syrup, setting it beside Remus' arm.

"Check this out," Remus said, pulling another truffle from the box. He started grating it over the whipped cream dollops, and it gently snowed chocolate shavings. "Isn't it pretty?" Remus glanced at Virgil as he switched mugs.

"Yeah," Virgil breathed, watching the little flakes fall and settle on the surface of the whipped cream.

Virgil felt himself becoming infinitely more relaxed and less anxious the longer he basked in Remus' presence. It had always been this way with him, although maybe it was slightly amplified now that they were alone. He leaned himself on Remus, chin on his shoulder. Remus didn't react, other than softening his movements significantly, as though he were afraid he'd scare Virgil away.

"Yes, yes, yes! Man, this is the good stuff!" Remus exclaimed as he squirted a trail of chocolate syrup over the flakey rain on the whipped cream mountains. Virgil chuckled, reaching for the mug nearest him. "Hey! Not yet!" Remus batted his hand away lightly.

"What else could you possibly want on hot chocolate? Come on, it's getting cold," Virgil whined. Remus only smirked.

"Pantry, top shelf, you'll know it when you see it," He spoke, glancing at the cupboard door a few paces away. Virgil stepped toward the pantry cautiously, opening the door slowly. There, presented proudly on the top shelf, was a bag of mini marshmallows.

"Oh fuck yeah," Virgil reached up, realizing he was far too short to reach the bag. "Uh, one sec," he said, stepping entirely into the pantry, reaching up with all his might. Even stretching as far as he could, he barely reached the base of the top shelf.  Remus chuckled from over by the mugs.

"Here, let me help." Remus came up behind him, making to reach over Virgil's head just as Virgil tried to step out of the pantry and out of Remus' way. Virgil essentially walked right into Remus' chest, face to face with his stubbled Adam's apple as he reached for the mallows easily.

Virgil was frozen in place, feeling his face grow hot. Remus looked down at him, suddenly realizing their physical predicament.

"Shit! Sorry!" Remus stepped back, mallows in hand, giving Virgil more than enough room to step out.

"s'fine, don't worry," Virgil mumbled, cheeks red and staring wide-eyed at the floor. Remus laughed a bit nervously, stepping back over to the mugs and beckoning for Virgil to follow.

Once their mugs were properly marshmallow'd (although not s'more'd; neither wanted to go full Ned Flanders on this rainy Saturday afternoon) Remus led Virgil out of the kitchen and further down the hall, to the door at the end which opened up into Remus' bedroom.

Virgil didn't know what he was expecting Remus' personal living space to look like, but whatever it was it wasn't this. There was a very cozy-looking bed that took up most of the floorspace, and a very soft patterned rug at the foot. Against the far wall, beside a wide windowsill, sat an equally cozy-looking loveseat. There were blankets and pillows absolutely everywhere, crowding the loveseat, covering the bed and turning the windowsill into a cozy sitting nook. There was no other furniture, aside from a rustic-looking wooden bedside table that matched a small, overstuffed bookshelf. The walls were entirely covered from floor to  ceiling with posters, art pieces, the like; but more than anything, sketches. Scores upon scores of sketches covered every wall, pinned up with colorful tacks and a certain few of them connected to others with  small segments of colored string. As well, strung up on some of the hardier tacks were a few strings of fairy lights. Those, plus the salt lamp set on the bedside table made for some extremely lovely mood lighting.

"Woah," was all Virgil could say as he looked around in wonder.

"This is where the magic happens," Remus shoulder shimmied, sidling around Virgil to sit cross-legged on his bed, beginning to nurse his cocoa as he set down the boxes of truffles. Apparently they were far too precious to keep in the kitchen, where Remus' brother could very well steal them.

"Yeah..." Virgil stepped up to a particularly large sketch, one whose tack was connected with string to several others. Something occurred to him. "Are these..." He gestured vaguely at the walls, "are these all yours?"

"All the sketches, yeah," Remus breathed, hiding behind his mug as he took a large sip. He watched Virgil over the brim as the man stared in complete awe.

"That's..." Virgil couldn't think of the right words, and so drew a large sip of his own cocoa. Remus was right, the truffles made for an incredible hot chocolate. He sighed slightly, smiling to himself.

Remus finished his cocoa, tilting his head back to slurp at the residue and remaining whipped cream as he leaned back on his bed slightly. Virgil smirked behind his own mug, licking at his whipped cream.

Remus set his mug beside the salt lamp on his bedside table, beckoning for Virgil to sit with him on the bed. Virgil did, cross-legged an leaning against a pillow that was propped against the wall. He glanced to the windowsill nook.

"You got something of a view," He murmured, craning his neck slightly to see out the window. Remus giggled.

"Yeah! That's where I saw mx. no-shoes earlier." He smiled at Virgil giddily.

"Oh, I see." Virgil smiled back. "Well, I'm here now, purple hair and truffles in the complete package," he spread his arms slightly, and Remus' smile turned into a full grin. He retrieved a truffle from the open box and popped it into his mouth, then throwing a second one at Virgil. It hit him in the chest, and he picked it up, starting to gnaw at it. "You were right, these are super fricking good," Virgil mentioned, taking another large gulp of his cocoa.

"I know right!? Where have you been all my life, beloved truffles," he picked up the unopened box and held it high in one hand, beginning to serenade it. Virgil laughed at him, slapping him on the arm.

"You're a massive dork."

Remus' eyes glinted. "Well I-" He stopped short, the glint disappearing as soon as it returned. Virgil watched his face. No, no dick jokes right now. He gulped and cleared his throat, retracting his arm and pulling out another two truffles from the other box. He held one of them out to Virgil on the palm of his hand. Virgil took it carefully, holding it between his fingers as he took the final sip of his own cocoa.

"Here," Remus reached his empty hand out to take Virgil's mug, setting it beside his own behind them on the bedside table. Remus resumed chewing his truffle, watching the comforter shift with his weight as he leaned back and forth slightly.

"Can I?" Virgil pointed to a few more sketches over the head of the bed. Remus nodded. Virgil got up onto his knees, nearly pressing his chest into the wall as he looked at the many sketches.

Remus got up onto his knees too, sort of knee-waddling over to Virgil's side. Virgil's eyes continued scanning the sketches before they fell onto a particularly familiar looking one. His breath caught in his chest. He reached up to it, tracing the familiar purple plaid of his very own patchwork hoodie. Remus cleared his throat from beside him.

They both spoke at the same time.

"Um, you should probably know that-"

"Remus, I wanted to tell you-"

Virgil turned to look at Remus then, and belatedly realized just how close together they were. Remus' lips were pursed, and Virgil could see that he was chewing at the inside corner of his mouth.

Virgil drew in a breath to speak as Remus moved slightly closer. Pursing his lips shut, he changed his mind, deciding to take a risk.

He surged forward suddenly, shutting his eyes. Remus met him in the middle, and just like that, they were kissing.

It was soft and still at first, lips pressed firmly into each other's. Remus reached one hand up, gently cupping Virgil's cheek.

Virgil pulled back suddenly, but Remus' hand didn't leave his cheek. "I-I'm sorry, I really should've- asked- I meant to say things, i mean, before-" He stopped as Remus set his other hand on Virgil's waist. His face looked incredibly soft and gentle, lips parted slightly as he looked at Virgil like he'd hung the moon.

Virgil intertwined his fingers on the back of Remus' neck, and Remus pulled Virgil back into the kiss.

...

two days later, Virgil was up late again, unable to push himself into unconsciousness. His body was restless even if his mind was exhausted - or perhaps it was the other way around, his mind restless and his body exhausted? He really couldn't tell.

It was nearing 3am, and he was sitting curled in on himself, hugging his knees as he watched the stars out his window. His phone, face-down on the bed beside him, began buzzing.

He tilted his head, sighing as he fought an oncoming wave of exhaustion. He picked up the phone, flipping it to see the caller ID, although part of him hoped knew who it would be.

He pressed the answer button, bringing the phone to his ear.

"Hey, Remus."

He heard Remus gasp on the other end of the line, before murmuring a small "hi."

"I... are you not sleeping good tonight?" Remus' curious and confounded expression was almost palpable through the phone. Virgil smiled lazily, recognizing Remus' demeanor immediately.

"No, I'm not, but that's okay. The stars are pretty tonight." Virgil paused, scratching at his chin a bit. "Are you stoned again?"

A long pause. "Yeah," Remus blurted. "Sorry I... I nodded, but then, I realized... you can't see me."

Virgil smiled to himself again. "It's okay."

A long, comfortable silence followed. Virgil was too tired to feel the obligatory need to make conversation, especially with Remus. He'd be a fool to expect any awkwardness after a make out session with the spontaneous blob that is Remus, but he'd still been nervous to see or speak with him again. That all melted away now though, exhaustion and vague contentment taking its place.

"Virgie - uh, Virgil?" Remus piped up after a while, rousing Virgil from his trance.

"Yeah?"

"Do you, remember..." Remus trailed off, and didn't speak for long enough that Virgil almost responded to prompt him. "Did you come to my house, and also, kiss me, or was that a dream?" Even through his stoned lilt, Remus spoke a bit quickly, like he was trying to shove the words out of his mouth before he could change his mind.

Virgil chuckled. "That wasn't a dream, Remus. Yes, I remember." I don't think I could forget it if i wanted to tried.

"Oh." Virgil could hear the smile in Remus' voice. "Can we- I mean, do you want to, uh, do it again? Some time?" he didn't sound hesitant, no; just hopeful, and perhaps as though he felt like he needed to be excessively gentle. It was the sweetest tone Virgil had ever heard.

"I'd like that," Virgil smiled.

Remus sigh-laughed on the other end of the line, and Virgil's smile grew. "Cool," Remus said almost under his breath.

Virgil didn't do it consciously, but a big, loud yawn decided to worm its way out of him at that moment.

"Are you sleepy Virgie?" Remus asked in a strange partial baby voice. Virgil snorted at him.

"I'm literally always tired, so if the answer was no, that would be more concerning," Virgil quipped, but his voice sounded spent. Remus giggled a little.

"Can I hum to you?" Remus asked, smile still discernable in his tone. Virgil felt something warm spark in his chest, like a lighter being flicked and lit.

"I'd like that a lot, too," Virgil murmured, curling up beneath his covers as Remus started to hum.

He was out like a light in less than 5 minutes.

And if Remus stayed on the line for another half hour or so, humming to him and listening to his even breaths, who was to know?

...

Virgil felt like an idiot.

That wasn't an entirely rare feeling to him, but this particular time was different.

Despite his general edginess and rebel-against-society vibe, Virgil had never touched a drop of alcohol or gone near any intoxicating substance in his life. Until today.

He'd been Remus' boyfriend for almost three months now, and it was everything he could have hoped; haphazard night trips to convenience stores that ended in oddly romantic motorcycle rides, the odd gestures Remus's... eccentric mind came up with, and Virgil was in dire need of more hoodies he could let Remus steal. All this, but Virgil was still Virgil. He still had his anxiety disorder, he still dealt with insomnia. Though, sleeping in Remus' arms was proving an impressively effective remedy to the latter.

So, when Remus suggested Virgil look into the medical benefits of marijuana in regards to both anxiety and insomnia, Virgil was... intrigued, to say the least.

He did find a lot of supporting evidence through his research, and... well, he thought, what the hell, right? If Remus smokes it pretty much every day, and if this many articles are claiming its reliability... what harm would it do to try?

So here he was, sitting on his couch, having taken a couple of edibles, waiting for the high to hit him. His hand ghosted over his jean pocket, assuring himself that his phone was there in case he needed to call 911 or something. He was trying to do breathing exercises to maintain some sort of calm, but sitting still wasn't his strong suit.

He'd chosen edibles since he didn't want to have to deal with the whole... smoke and coughing side of things. And he really didn't like the sound of vaping. He figured this would be fine as an introductory experience, but he realized that he had no clue when the edibles would kick in.

He pulled out his phone, typing into google.

Marijuana edibles generally take 30 minutes to an hour to induce any psychological effects on the consumer.

Oh.

Well, he figured, there was no way he could sit still for that long.

He stood, deciding he'd make himself some dinner. Something to busy his hands with, and the leftovers he'd planned on heating up would last another day or two anyways.

He settled on some fettuccine alfredo, fairly simple but one of his childhood favorites. He had a feeling he'd appreciate the comfort food while he was... in an altered state of mind.

Virgil, however, hadn't accounted for the fact that he had an almost unnaturally high metabolism, and before he'd even gotten the pasta in the boiling water, things started to get a little funky.

The first thing Virgil noticed, before he'd even registered that the edibles were kicking in, was how he could hear his thoughts. Not literally, but it felt as though his stream-of-consciousness thoughts were more slow and clear to him, as though he was speaking directly to himself.

As he thought this, his vision suddenly came into alarming focus, and felt oddly like an unstable skyscraper. He stared down at his feet, and they seemed so far away, the floor looked far too far away... He gripped the counter nearest to him, trying to steady himself even if he wasn't actually falling. He didn't feel like he had any control over his center of balance, and even if he was mostly stock-still as a pencil, he thought he might fall down at any moment, down the many stories of building beneath him. But there was no stories beneath him... it was only his legs, which he didn't remember being so long. He stared a little harder at his feet. They weren't abnormally far away, were they?

Virgil vaguely registered the sound of over-boiling water as the realization hit him.

Oh. So this is what it's like.

He turned so that his lower back was stable against the counter, sliding slowly down onto his butt. Standing didn't feel safe right now, even if that made no sense.

He didn't really like this. He felt so isolated, so alone in this moment. He was too out of it to focus hard enough on those thoughts for them to really take root, but he was generally aware of them. So, he did the first thing he could think to do.

He pulled his phone very slowly and carefully out of his pocket, as if he thought it was a brittle sugar cookie. He stared at the dark screen for a solid minute, wondering why it wasn't turning on. Then he realized he had to actually touch the screen for that to happen, and so he did.

From there, it was relatively easy; he unlocked his phone, found the calling app, scrolled around a little haphazardly up and down the contact list before finding Remus' contact.

If anyone could help him feel less alone, if anyone knew what he was experiencing... it would be him.

He took a deep breath and held it as he pressed the call button, bringing the phone to his face as it rang.

It only rang twice before Remus answered. "Hello, Jack Skellington! What can I do for you this evening?" Remus' voice sounded a little extra mischievous, and Virgil couldn't even begin to place why.

He was quiet for a little too long, vaguely trying to decide what to say. "Hi." Not the most eloquent, but it worked for a start.

"Hi," Remus replied, the troublemaking lilt of his voice dissipating slightly. "Is everything okay, Surly Temple?"

Virgil giggled a bit. Your brother is funny. You keep stealing his nicknames for me. "I'm, yeah. Sorry, talking. it's hard. Right now." Virgil spoke haltingly, each word firm but isolated from the last.

"Hmmm..." Remus stroked his mustache from the other end of the line. Virgil giggled again, realizing he couldn't actually see Remus stroking his mustache, but could imagine it vividly all the same. There was no doubt in his mind that he was doing exactly that.

"Oh, 'm high," Virgil added quite belatedly.

"Oh! Well that makes a lot more sense!" Remus laughed, but quickly composed himself again. "What are you doing? Are you feeling okay? Is this your first time? What's happening?"

"Skyscraper," Virgil replied matter-of-factly, as if that cleared the air entirely.

"...right..." Remus replied slowly. "Stormcloud, is it okay if I come over? I don't... I want you to be- uh, to feel safe right now."

"Yes, please," Virgil clung to the phone like it was Remus' arm. "I miss you I'm kinda scared," his words slurred together, but at least he managed to say something slightly coherent. Remus grunted in acknowledgement.

"Okay. I'll be there in ten. Want me to stay on the line?" Virgil could hear shuffling around in the background.

"What're you doin?" He asked suspiciously, narrowing his eyes at the refrigerator door, since he couldn't actually look at Remus.

"Putting on my shoes, silly! What room are you in right now?" Remus replied, a sense of protectiveness twinged in his voice.

"Kitchen. floor." Virgil swirled his fingers on the wooden floor.

"Okay. Do you want me to stay- oh, fuck it. I'm staying on the line till I get there, okay Virgie?" Virgil heard the sound of a door slamming, followed by vague trafficky noises.

"You're coming," Virgil spoke, registering it in his mind finally.

"Yeah, I'm coming," Remus repeated, and the sound of Remus' car starting sounded shortly after.

Virgil smiled at nothing. "I love you."

The words were a bit slurred together, but he heard them out of his own mouth loud and clear. He almost clapped a hand over his mouth, a little horrified that he'd just said that.

Sure, he'd known he loved Remus for a while now, but they hadn't said it before. He'd almost said it, once, earlier that week while he was laying in Remus' arms on a drowsy Sunday morning, watching the lines of his face shift and harden as he slowly woke up. But he didn't. And now he'd just gone and said it, while he was stoned out of his mind for the first time, sitting on his kitchen floor about to break into tears-

Remus' voice, a little bit strained, interrupted Virgil's thoughts.

"I love you too."

A pause. "I'm almost there, okay? Everything's gonna be fine."

Virgil snuggled down further into his hoodie.

"I know, cus you'll be here."

[reidgraygubler]

a different type of high (spencer reid/reader) pt 3

Title: A Different Type of High (part three)

Request: no

Couple: spencer reid/gender-neutral!reader

Category: mostly fluff, but there is some angst

Content Warning: swearing, mentions of withdrawal and symptoms of withdrawal, talks of depression and suicide (but not for a sentence), mentions of overdose, (if i missed anything that needs to be tagged, please let me know!)

Word Count: 6,148

Summary: Spencer keeps his promise and takes Reader to get coffee before NA. While at the coffee shop, Reader meets one of Spencer’s co-workers and finds out who he actually works for.

A/N: i don’t have much to say other than… i don’t know if it actually snows in quantico virginia or dc. everywhere i’ve looked told me yes and told me no.. so i just made it snow. so if im wrong about that sorry o.o and, this one mentions the episode ‘elephant’s memory’ season 3 episode 16 (i think) anyways, thank you all for the love and support! check out my masterlist! and here’s a series moodboard i made on pintrest! 

previous part  series masterlist  next part 

{***}{***}{***}

Three firm knocks came from the front door of my apartment. I looked towards the door as I struggled to tie my shoes. I could hear my heart pounding in my ears as I stood up. My sweater was on the hook by the front door, so I can’t even excuse myself for running behind. It was just my anxiety causing me to be a little slow.

So with that, I walked up to the front door to answer it. I’m not sure why I was expecting anyone other than Spencer, but for some reason, my body was telling me it was someone else. But when I opened the door, a smile spread across my face when I saw Spencer.

Small snowflakes were sitting, and melting, in his hair as he stood in the hallway outside my own world. His nose and cheeks were a light rosy pink color because of the coldness outside. A dark plaid scarf was wrapped around his neck and hung over his unbuttoned jacket. And his eyes had a certain sparkle that I couldn’t seem to look away from.

“Hey,” Spencer smiled at me as he ruffled his hair, getting the snowflakes out. I stayed silent for a moment too long and kept my eyes on him. 

“Hey,” I blinked and shook my head, “I’m almost done… I, uh, was just… Do you want to come… Come in,” I kept my voice low as I asked. I stepped back and pulled the door open. 

“Thanks,” he smiled before stepping into my apartment. I looked around my home, realizing that it was a little on the messier side. 

“Sorry… Sorry for the mess. I usually don’t… I don’t really have visitors here. And, I guess I sort of forgot that you were coming over,” I bit my lips together.

“Oh, don’t… Don’t worry about it, really. My apartment is pretty messy too,” he brushed my messiness off like it was nothing. I looked around my home one last time before grabbing my sweater off the hook. “It’s starting to snow a little hard out there, we should get going,” Spencer cringed as he looked towards the window, which was covered by the cheap dollar store curtains. 

“Yeah, yeah, I’m all ready,” I looked at him and smiled. He looked back at me before raising an eyebrow.

“You don’t have a coat?” He asked, watching as I grabbed my apartment keys. I shoved them in my pocket as I looked at him. 

“No, this is enough,” I smiled at him. Spencer nodded before following me out. “So, where was your trip to?” I looked up at Spencer as we stepped onto the sidewalk. He was wrapping a scarf around his neck before tucking it away into his coat. 

“Someplace in Texas,” he nodded as he buttoned the last button. He smiled at me before putting an arm around me. I just assumed he did it because I didn’t have an actual coat and just a sweater. “Work stuff… Kinda scary…”

“How does a work trip get scary?” I furrowed my eyebrows as I looked at the ground. A very fine layer of snow was dusting the sidewalk, letting our footprints leave tracks as we walked. The snow was coming down like little cotton balls, so our footprints didn’t last very long. I always forget how cold it gets in the Winter. 

“Well, uh,” Spencer kept his voice low as he spoke. I raised an eyebrow before looking back up at him. “It’s a long story,” he added in an even lower voice.

“I have time for a long story,” I mumbled with a shrug. 

“It’s a really long story,” he looked down at me. I looked up at him and furrowed my eyebrows. It’d take a lot to get this story from him. I’m not even sure if it would be worth the fight...

The chilliness of the air nipped at the back of my neck and arms through my sweater, causing me to shiver. Spencer looked down at me with concern in his eyes. “We need to get you a proper jacket. It’s too cold out for you to be walking in just a sweater and jeans,” he spoke, his tone coming up an octave. I refrained from rolling my eyes because of him changing the subject. I’ll of course bring it up later. He’s clearly not telling me anything about what happened. 

“I’m okay, really. With just this,” I tugged on my sweater. Spencer looked down at me and raised an eyebrow. “Really, Spencer. It’s fine. I don’t think I have money for a coat anyways,” I shrugged it off as nothing. Spencer looked away from me, thinking about something to say. Then he suddenly pulled his scarf off and wrapped it around my neck. “I’m fine!” I exclaimed as I stepped away from him. “Spencer, if being cold is the only thing that gives me feeling, then let me be cold,” I looked up at him, “I’m going through enough withdrawal to be depressed and shit. Just let me be cold,” I pulled the scarf off and handed it back over to him.  The scarf stayed draped in my hand, swaying in the wind, between Spencer and me.

Spencer stared at the scarf in my hand before looking up at my face. I couldn’t exactly read the expression he wore, but he was definitely upset about my sudden mood change. He slowly shook his head as he pushed the scarf to me. 

“Keep it. If you don’t want a jacket and you won’t let me buy you one, I want you to keep my scarf,” he looked up at my face before taking the scarf from my hand. He carefully wrapped it around my neck and placed his hands on my shoulders. I rolled my eyes before smiling at him. “Please, I have another one at home,”

“Are you too stubborn to take no for an answer?” I asked as I started walking again. Spencer laughed as he caught up to my pace. I smiled as he returned his arm around my shoulders. I leaned more into his embrace.

“That would be correct,” he looked down at me and smiled. I rolled my eyes again and shook my head. 

We stayed silent on the remainder of the walk, it wasn’t a far walk from my apartment to the coffee shop. Occasionally, Spencer would crack a joke or two, causing me to laugh. Which was good. I missed a good laugh or two. 

“So, do any of your work friends know… about this?” I looked up at Spencer as we walked side-by-side into a coffee shop. It was probably a good bet to say that he probably frequents more often than not. “This being you and going to NA, you and you’re… and you and me,” I stopped myself from saying any more, mostly because I knew he hated when we talked about our issues outside of NA or the community center. I understood why he hated it, but it didn’t leave much left to talk about. 

“No, no they don’t,” he mumbled as we stepped in line. There were three or four other people in front of us. Just a short wait, that’s it. I’m okay with waiting, in all honesty. The longer we’re here, the longer we are away from the community center. And God knows we both hate that place... “And I’d prefer if it stayed that way,” he spoke, mostly to himself, like he was reminding himself that no one knew of this secret life he has.

“I see,” I whispered and stepped closer to him. Spencer looked down at me before wrapping an arm around my shoulder. I looked down and smiled as he held me closer. “I’ve never been here before,” I looked around the cafe, taking in the atmosphere of the place. It was comfy and cozy. As opposed to the outside, which was cold and snowy. 

“Pretty good. Although, it’s kinda hard for me to say no to coffee,” he laughed as he stepped forward in line. I returned the laughter and nodded. 

“What do you get? Normal black coffee? Or a fun drink?” I looked up at him. Spencer looked back down at me and thought. 

“Usually just plain coffee with cream and some sugar,” he nodded as he looked towards the front at the menu. I followed his gaze and looked over the menu myself. “What about you?”

“Uh,” I shifted on my feet and looked back at his face, “I just... I don’t really drink coffee or anything,” I crossed my arms over my chest. Spencer hummed as he looked down at me. “I guess hot chocolate is okay,” I whispered and looked back up at Spencer. 

“Hot chocolate, pretty good,” he spoke as he shoved his other hand in his pocket to pull out his wallet. We both silently stepped up to the counter. 

“Hey there, what can I get you guys?” The barista had a certain chipper-ness to her tone. It was probably from all the caffeine she consumes on a daily basis. Or it was the fact that she’s been awake for a million hours and is just tired. Probably the former...

“Large coffee, plain… Room for sugar and cream,” Spencer smiled at the barista. I shoved my hands in my pocket, hoping to find a spare bill or two. But when I pulled my hand out and it was empty, I frowned. Of course, I don’t have extra money. I’m a 22-year-old drug addict (Recovering… Recovering drug addict), who buys street drugs and can barely pay rent on time. Why would I have extra money shoved into my pocket?

“I don’t need anything,” I looked up at Spencer and forced a fake smile on my lips. He frowned and looked at the barista, who was watching the two of us with a friendly smile.

“No, no, my treat. Don’t worry about it,” He gestured to the counter. He removed his arm from my shoulder and pulled money from his wallet. I looked at him with wide eyes before looking back at the barista.

“Uh, small hot chocolate… Thanks,” I kept my voice low, mostly because my anxiety was going crazy. No one’s ever gotten me a drink before, much less anything. 

The barista smiled at Spencer and I before taking the money from him. I glanced at him, watching him place the change into the tip jar. He looked down at me with a small smile before guiding me over to where a sign that said “Pick Up Here” sat.

“You didn’t have to buy me a drink, Spencer,” I whispered as we stayed close to one another. He shrugged as he shoved both hands into his pocket. “No, seriously, it’s okay,”

“It isn’t okay, because it’s cold outside and having a nice hot drink is always nice.” Spencer looked down at me and shrugged, “Just accept the kind gesture,” he lifted a hand and placed it on my shoulder. 

“I’ve never had someone just buy me something before. I mean,” I stopped myself from talking because the end of that statement had to do with drugs. “Ya know?” I glanced at him, hoping he’d just know what I meant. 

“Well, that’ll have to change, won’t it,” he whispered and smiled softly. I stared at him and shrugged. I shifted my gaze from his face and to the ground between us. 

“Here’s that hot chocolate and coffee for you two.” A different barista smiled at Spencer and I as he placed two paper cups on the counter. Spencer grabbed both cups and handed one over to me. We both turned to leave. 

“Listen, Spencer, hot chocolate is one thing. But a coat? That’s a whole other thing,” I spoke before taking a sip of my hot chocolate. I hummed as the warmth spread through my body. He smiled at me before grasping my hand.

“C’mon,” Spencer started as he pulled me towards the door of the cafe. I could feel a smile tug on my lips as we walked past a new rush of people.

“Reid?” a woman’s voice spoke, stopping Spencer and I in our tracks. He looked away from me and towards the owner of the voice. I followed his gaze and saw a thin brunette. I didn’t like the way he pulled his hand away from mine like he didn’t want to be caught with someone.

“H-Hi, Emily,” Spencer stared at her with wide eyes. The tone and shakiness in his voice definitely told the person and I that he was anxious that this was happening. Which was valid, considering we were just talking about his friends and co-workers and it’d be bad if they found out about NA. 

“Emily… Prentiss. I work with Spencer,” She smiled as she looked at me and stuck out a hand. Spencer still has to tell me what his occupation is. Whenever I asked him where he works, he always said he didn’t like talking about it or that it’d worry me. So, this’ll be a fantastic conversation topic on the way to the community center. 

I copied the same stare that Spencer held in his eyes. My eyes were glued to her hand. And, no doubt was my anxiety higher than his. “And you are,” she asked after a moment of my staring and silence. Her smile was still kind, but it was a little worrisome. And, her stare scared me, almost like she was reading me or something.

“Right, right, sorry,” I muttered as I placed my hand in hers. I muttered my name and looked at her. She raised her eyebrow before her eyes shifted to look at Spencer. 

“How do you know Spencer,” Emily asked, pulling her hand away from mine. I glanced at Spencer, silently pleading for him to take the lead on this question. I really didn’t want to answer this question because I didn’t know how to answer it. 

“Friend from the library,” Spencer spoke up with a certain… fakeness to his tone. It was obvious he was lying. It looked like Emily picked up on that too. With the way she pointedly stared at Spencer.

“How do you think I met him?” I looked up at her and shrugged. I looked at the clock that was hanging on the wall and sighed. “If we’re walking, we’re gonna be late,” I looked back at Spencer and spoke firmly. Spencer looked down at me and nodded.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, Emily,” Spencer looked back at his friend and smiled. Emily looked between the two of us before allowing us to leave.

“It was nice meeting you,” she smiled at me as we finally left. I flashed her a nervous smile just as the door closed. 

Once we were finally outside, Spencer wrapped his arm back around me. I could feel my body get frigid, I played it off as the temperature of the outside even though it was the return of Spencer’s affection. I really enjoyed the affection, but what I didn’t like was his sudden lack of affection the second we see someone he knows. I understand why he did it, but I hated it. I’m a secret. 

“Who’s Emily?” I asked, my tone low. I tried not to sound jealous. Spencer’s my best friend, and that’s it. I don’t like anyone like that, and I probably never will. “I mean, I know she’s someone you work with… But you never tell me anything about what you do for work, Spencer,” 

“She’s, uh,” he looked down at me. I kept my eyes away from him and stayed silent as I waited for my answer. “Yeah, she’s one of my co-workers.” He nodded. I looked back up at him and furrowed my eyebrows. 

“Where is it you guys work? Because it’s clearly not a Starbucks,” I asked, pressing him again about his occupation. “I mean, because if it is Starbucks, can you get me a job?” I smiled at him. Spencer laughed and shook his head. “Okay, okay, you don’t have to tell me where you work… But can you describe where you work?”

“No it’s not Starbucks,” he looked down at me and smiled softly. And with that, our conversation about his occupation ended. I tried not sounding or acting upset. But that’s okay. I’ll get over it. 

“Thanks for the hot chocolate,” I looked up at him and smiled. He returned the smile before taking a sip of his coffee.

{***}{***}{***}

“I just don’t understand… Why can’t you tell me?” I looked at Spencer as we walked towards the chairs. He glanced down at me before gesturing towards two chairs. I sat down before him, then watched as he sat down beside me. “Do you work someplace super duper embarrassing? Oh my god, are you a stripper?” I turned to look up at him. Spencer glared at me, a teeny-tiny smile growing on his lips. “Oh my god, you are,” I whispered as I moved closer to him. My butt was on the very edge of my chair so I could be as close as I could to him. “Can you show me somethi-”

“What, no! I’m not a stripper,” Spencer furrowed his eyebrows before laughing. I returned the laughter and looked up at him. He looked over his shoulders to see if anyone was nearby, or close enough to hear our conversation. “Why don’t we talk about this when we’re done here… No one here needs to hear our conversation,” Spencer whispered as he looked back at me. I looked at him before reaching out to hold his hand. He flinched slightly when I touched his hand. I looked up at him before blinking. As I went to pull my hand away from him, his grip tightened around my hand.  “Does that sound good? I’ll be honest and answer any questions you have,” he looked down at our hands and nodded. His Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed, whether that be saliva or nerves he was swallowing back. A light shade of pink grew on his face, coming up from his neck.

“Yeah, yeah that works,” I looked down at my lap. The scarf was draped over my legs, keeping me warm a little bit. Jacob stood up in the middle of the circle to introduce everyone, and I already wanted the night to be over. Out of the corner of my eye, I could see Spencer looking over at me as I silently prayed for death to take me now. “My place or yours?” I smiled softly before looking back at him. 

“Yours since we’re already walking back there,” he dropped his head to his shoulder before looking at me. I smiled and turned to face Jacob. 

{***}{***}{***}

“Uh, I don’t have much in the means of food. I might have a can of spaghetti-o’s… If you’re hungry,” I spoke as I pulled the scarf off my neck and placed it on the hook, along with my sweater. 

“Oh, I’ll just have a glass of water,” Spencer spoke as he pulled his coat off. He placed his coat right on the hook beside my sweater. I nodded before walking over to the small kitchenette area. 

“You can have a seat anywhere, couch, armchair, floor... “ I grabbed two glasses before filling them with water. I walked back to the living room, my eyes down on the ground.

“So,” I whispered as I set the glasses on the coffee table. Spencer, who was sitting on the couch, leaned over and picked one up. I sat on the opposite end of the couch before curling up into the corner. “Emily seems very nice,” I looked at him, watching as he sipped his water. 

“She is… Everyone I work with is like family to me,” Spencer looked at me before placing his glass back on the coffee table. “It’s frustrating because...” he started, but he didn’t finish his thought. I furrowed my eyebrows and stared at him. 

“What’s frustrating?” I asked, watching as he furrowed his eyebrows. He looked back at me for a moment before exhaling.

“It’s frustrating… Because I constantly ask for help and no one helps.” Spencer looked down at his lap. I raised my eyebrow as I turned to face him more.

“How are you asking for help? And… I thought you said no one knows,” I whispered as I laid my head on the back of the couch. Spencer glanced at me before looking back down at his hands. He was pulling at fingers, his joints quietly popping. “Spencer, if no one knows what’s going on, then they can’t help you,” I kept my voice low because I didn’t want to say the wrong thing. I’m sure with Spencer I couldn’t ever say the wrong thing. I mean, he couldn’t say the wrong thing to me… 

“No, no… I think they know… And that scares me,” he whispered as he looked back at his hands. “I’ve been with them for so long, and they know me enough to know when something’s wrong,” he shrugged before shifting in his seat.

“What is it you do for work? You still haven’t told me,” I looked back at him as I asked. His gaze shifted between the couch and my face. The way his eyes shifted across my face and his silence told me he was trying to find the words to say but was having a hard time formulating them.

“I work for the FBI,” he whispered, dropping his gaze away from my face. 

I could feel my heart drop to my stomach and a certain sickness rise up my esophagus. It took everything in me not to be sick at the moment. My hand balled up into a tight fist, and I could feel my nails digging into my palms so hard, I’m sure if they weren’t nubs I would have bled. The FBI… The police… People who arrest people who buy and sell drugs illegally. People like me...

“The… The FBI?” I asked in a whisper. My voice was shaky as I spoke. Spencer looked back at me and nodded lightly. I shifted in my seat, my body wanting to leave. “You’re not… You’re not an undercover agent, are you?” I swallowed roughly as I stared at him. 

“What? No,” Spencer scowled as he looked at me. I looked away from him, mouthing the word ‘Sorry,’ but not even meaning the apology. “I’m not an undercover agent, and I’m not going to arrest you. No, I’m like you. I’m trying too get better.” He whispered as he looked back down on the couch. “Last week, when I was on the work trip… I was saving a kid… Some teenager… He was… He was bullied growing up and in high school. And, he was…”

“Victim turned bad guy?” I asked, interrupting him. He glanced over at me and nodded lightly.

“Yeah, yeah that’s basically what had happened. They were going to shoot him,” he whispered. I glanced at him and noted that tears were rolling down his cheeks. 

“They? They being the other members of your team?” I wrinkled my nose as I asked. He glanced at me again and nodded. I moved to stand up, but Spencer reached out and grabbed my wrist to stop me from standing. I looked at him with wide eyes and terror on my face. His features softened as he looked at me, realizing that this was getting too real for me too fast.

“And, I… I couldn’t let this kid die. So I stood between this kid, this kid that I only knew so much about, and nine police officers and federal agents and their guns,” he whispered, his voice breaking as he went on. My eyes grew wet as he spoke. 

“That’s really stupid of you, Spencer,” I whispered as I shift back to be sitting on the couch. Spencer laughed lightly and nodded. “Don’t… Don’t do that again,” I rubbed the underside of my nose and shook my head.

“Yeah, it was stupid of me, wasn’t it… But, this kid is alive,” he whispered. I looked over at him and watched as he moved closer to me. “You can trust me. I’m trying every bit as you are to get better,” he spoke as he readjusted his grip from my wrist to my hand. I swallowed roughly and looked down at our hands.

“You… I know we don’t know we don’t know each other too well… But you can’t die, Spencer. I don’t care if it’s because of work, because of a bad guy, or because of someone at work, or if it’s because of drugs… But, you can’t die,” I whispered as I looked back at him. I could really feel the tears racing down my cheeks. “I’ve never been clean as long as I have been. I don’t think I can do this without you,” I roughly rubbed my cheeks and shook my head.  “I’m… I’m sorry, that’s stupid,” I scoffed and shook my head.

“That’s not stupid. Nothing about it all is stupid.” Spencer looked at me as he spoke. He lifted a hand to wipe my cheeks with a thumb. I looked at him before looking at the ground. “I’m having a rough time… With, uh, with, well, you know. I’ve stopped, uh, it. And last week’s case was the first case without it. I just didn’t care what happened, even if that meant dying.” He whispered as his grip on my hand tightened. “If you can do it… I can do it,”

“Accountability buddies,” I smiled as I reminded him of our promise to each other. Spencer looked back at me and smiled.

“Yes, accountability buddies,” he sighed as he pulled me close for a hug. I took a deep breath, breathing in his smell. “You alright?” 

“Yeah, yeah, I’m alright,” I wiped my cheeks again, “Mister FBI Agent,” I looked up at him and smiled, “Can you stay the night?” I asked, looking away from his face and at the messy coffee table. 

“Are you sure?” He looked down at me as he rested his hands on my shoulders. I looked up at him and nodded.

“I think it’d make me feel better… Knowing that you’re… That you’re here,” I glanced at him. I wasn’t sure if I was embarrassed or not. But, I definitely felt weird asking him to stay here. Just something about him being near for the night made me feel safe. “You don’t have to if you don’t want to. I understand if it’s weird or what-”

“Yeah, I think I can make that work,” he nodded and looked at me. I smiled before throwing my arms back around him. “Just don't be surprised if I’m not here when you wake up,” he laughed lightly as rested his hands on my back, “I just… I know I’ll have to be at the office early,” he further explained. 

“That’s okay,” I nodded and looked up at him, “I promise I won’t make it a habit… Of asking you to stay the night, that is,” I looked away from him and shrugged. Spencer laughed and shook his head.

“I wouldn’t care if you did,” he muttered. I probably wasn’t supposed to hear him say that, but I did. And it kinda made me feel happy, like unusually happy. “Is it alright if I use the bathroom?” He asked as he stood up. 

“Oh, yeah, yep,” I copied his action and stood up. I looked to the ground as I lead him towards the bathroom, “Here you go,” I gestured into the open room. Spencer smiled at me before entering, pressing the door behind him. I stared at the surface of the door before stepping away. My fingers were tapping together as I walked back to the living room. My anxiety was a little high, and I wasn’t sure why, and the tapping was helping me calm down a bit. I had no secrets in the bathroom, nothing embarrassing or dangerous for him to see. 

I silently went back to sit on the couch, pulling my throw blanket over my shoulders. My apartment wasn’t necessarily cold. But there was enough of a chill to be noticeable. Well, to me at least. I’m not so sure about Spencer. I know I could just turn the heat up, but heating bills are expensive.

I instinctively stood up when the bathroom door clicked open. Spencer stepped out, drying his hands on his shirt. I internally cringed at my lack of paper towels or hand towels in the bathroom.

“Sorry,” I looked up at him and cringed. He looked back at me and shook his head.

“It’s okay,” he smiled as he shoved his hands into his pockets. I stared at him for a moment before walking away from the couches. “I really don’t have an issue sleeping on the couch,” he took a larger step to walk beside me. I glanced at me and shrugged.

“It’s cold,” I pointed out as we walked closer to my room. Spencer looked at me and smiled. “Besides, my bed can hold two people,” I smiled, mostly to myself. My bed wasn’t big, to begin with, two people probably shouldn’t be sharing. But, here we are… Because I didn’t want to be alone tonight. 

“Okay, okay,” Spencer laughed lightly as we entered the room. I looked up at himand smiled more as he looked at my bed. “If you say so,”

{***}{***}{***}

Okay, I was right, yet wrong at the same time. My bed can hold two people. But, it shouldn’t. Even though I’m smaller than Spencer, we were both on the very edge of the mattress. We had been in bed for an hour, and it’d been about 45 minutes since I shut the light off, leaving us in total darkness. I wouldn’t say I was uncomfortable, but it was difficult to be comfortable.

I rolled over onto my side, my back facing Spencer. Spencer was stiff on top of the blanket, making it impossible to get comfortable under it. He laid perfectly still on his back with his hands folded on his stomach.

“You know you can get under the blanket,” I spoke out loud as I looked up at him. He looked over at me, and it was clear that he hadn’t fallen asleep yet either. “Or, I can go get the blanket from the living room and you can use that,” I added in a whisper.

“It’s fine,” he nodded before shifting to move the blanket.

Once Spencer was actually under the blanket, he rolled on his side, so my back was pressed against his chest. My body stiffened once he relaxed. After a few minutes, I finally let my body relax and melt into the bed… That was until Spencer draped his arm over my body. 

“It’s okay,” I spoke before he even got the chance to move away from me, “It’s fine, you’re… You can stay there,” I shivered because I was cold and not because of my sudden anxiety. I knew he could sense my nerves. “It’s fine, really, Spencer,” I placed a hand on top of his to keep him from moving away from me. “Are you asleep?” I whispered, already knowing the answer. I knew we both wouldn’t be asleep anytime soon. The cuddling happening between us is obviously something we’ve never experienced before. I mean, I don’t know about Spencer, but I’ve never cuddled another human being other than my own mother (but even then she hadn’t cuddled me in more than 10 years). 

“Yes, I’m still awake,” he spoke, his voice low. His grip around me got a little tighter, pulling me closer to his chest. The way he held on to me was comparable to a child holding their stuffed animal, and I was honestly okay with it. “I’m assuming you’re still awake, considering you just asked me a question,” 

“I don’t usually fall asleep for a while after I go to bed,” I mumbled, pulling the blanket closer to me, “I spend most of my nights in bed, awake till 4 am,” I sighed. I silently hoped that tonight would be different though. 

“I’m sorry about that,” Spencer whispered. I shrugged as I shifted closer to him and further to the middle of the bed. “Maybe you should try to sleep earlier tonight,” “Yeah… Maybe,” 

{***}{***}{***}

I woke up before him. Our legs were tangled together, and he was holding me close against his chest. For the first time in a long time, I actually slept well. I wasn’t sure if it was because of the enormous space heater beside me, or because another person was actually in bed with me, but I was getting very hot.

I looked up at Spencer’s face, wanting to stay like this for a while. Although, I knew we couldn’t stay like this. He’d have to leave soon to go to work. He just looked so peaceful asleep. And, I was so comfortable lying here… 

I widened my eyes as I stared at him. My heart started beating faster, and I wasn’t sure if I could get it to slow. Part of me was worried that it’d wake him up, and another part of me was okay with it all. But, why was I worried as much as I was? And, why was it only when I was with Spencer I felt this way? What was going on? Crap...

I quickly closed my eyes and nuzzled my body closer to him when I saw that he started stirring. I threw my arms over his body and pressed my face to his chest. His heart beating and breath was somewhat soothing for me.

Spencer carefully shifted in his space before pulling my arms off him. I refrained from pouting. The bed shifted as Spencer sat up in the bed, partly bringing the blanket with him. He tossed the blanket back to me, lightly covering me again.

“Do you have to go to work,” I whined as I looked at Spencer as he slid out of my bed. He looked down at me with wide eyes. 

“I thought you were asleep,” he half muttered. I sat up before rubbing my eyes. Sleep? Pfft, I never sleep. He should know that! We just talked about it last night. “And, yes, I have to go to work,” he stood up and turned to look at me. I looked up at him and frowned.

“Nah, I never sleep, we talked about that last night,” I shook my head. Spencer sat at the foot of the bed to put his shoes back on. “I just have a bed to lay in and wallow in self-pity when I’m not at the community center,” I rubbed my nose. I pushed the blanket off me and crawled over to sit beside him. “And when I’m not with you,” I looked up at him.

“You don’t do anything during the week?” He looked over at me with a raised eyebrow. I shrugged and shook my head. “Really?”

“I mean, Wednesdays are really the only days I have stuff. I guess I could do chores and stuff,” I looked towards the door, remembering the mess in my living room, “I know what you’re thinking, I should get a job. But that’s so hard. I don’t have any job experience,” 

“I never said I was thinking that,” Spencer turned to face me. I dropped my shoulders and looked up at him. “How do you-”

“I’m friends with the owner of the building and he knows I live on hard times. And, mom had some money left behind,” I dropped my head so I wasn’t looking at him. 

“I’m not judging you,” he spoke, his tone very insistent. I sighed and nodded. 

“You should go, before you’re late,” I looked back up at him, “I don’t want to be the reason why you’re late. Emily already knows about me. We don’t need the others asking about me. Some random girl you slept with,” I smiled. Spencer looked over at me, trying to hold back his smile.

“You’re not going to stay in bed all day, are you?” He asked, standing up. I looked up at him and shook my head.

“I told you, I can do chores and stuff,” I shrugged and looked around my room, this time at the laundry room. “Will I see you again before next Wednesday?” I asked as I moved closer to the edge of the bed.

“That’ll entirely depend on work,”

“Oh, yeah, that’s right. Agent Spencer,” I smiled at him before standing up. Spencer glared at me for a moment before laughing, “Are you like 007?” I asked leading him back out of my room.

“No, I’m not like James Bond,”

a different type of high taglist: @shameleswhorehourstm​, @itsametaphorbriansblog​, @bxtchboy69​, @sammypotato67​, @seninjakitey​

reply or send me an ask if you want to be apart of the taglist for a different type of high!

[thirsthourdemon]

Headcanon when you call them by their cute little nickname in front of their team

Includes: Aone and Kyoutani

Tags: fluff, headcanons,

Aone || Nobu

-Here’s the thing you guys are so discreet and soft that it just looks like friends stuff.

-Dont get me wrong the team loves that the giant finally has someone to accompany him in the train,this was a big issue for a certain time, and they’re just so happy that he was friends outside of them considering how most people get frightened of him.

-Okay so everyone had assumed that you guys were just friends because you guys weren’t too touchy or lovey dovey at all!

-Babies were still shy, okay?! Nways

-You started dating a few months already too! Like 3 months or so but you still both agreed that it was too early

-Behind closed doors however both of you were two adorable little idiots. Wanna ask me why?!

-Mind reading! You both shared the brain cells and though you only contributed 2 brain cells it was enough for you and him to read each other’s minds

-One time on the train you were looking at something on your phone with him and he didn’t even speak! He just...😐

-Though he was like that for some reason everyone in the train heard your giggling! Like you were laughing so damn hard but he...I-

-The people in the train were now very concerned and very scared

-You guys would also be the type to just in general do stuff your way

-tAkiNg tHinGs slOw 😤🌸 As thEy sAy hEreE

-He warmed up to you by calling you by your first name, okay?! 🥺 It was...UNDENIABLY ADORABLE WHEN HE CALLED YOUR FIRST NAME BECAUSE YOU NEVER THOUGHT YOU’D HEAR HIM SAY IT WITH HIS DEEP, BARELY PRESENT, VOICE!

-It wasn’t uncommon to have cute nicknames too! You even started calling him “Nobu” when you guys cuddle or when you feel particularly affectionate that day

-That day was this day

-Your boyfriend hehehehe bOyFrieNd HEHEHEHEHE was getting ready for practice that day and you thought of surprising him

-You waited inside the gym for him and soon enough the door slid open to reveal him

-“Nobu-kun~”

-“Yes, (First name/nickname)?”

-“I made you snacks in case you got hungwy, Nobu-kun~ OwO” you babytalked him forgetting one small detail

-He left the door open

-Everyone in the team was well...shocked

-It may not have seen like a big deal but AONE TALKED?! And HE USED SOMEONE’S NICKNAME OR FIRST NAME?! AND HE WAS CALLED NOBU?!!!!

-Ya’ll got the whole team, as the youngsters say, Shooketh

-He was pretty much teased the whole time after that and those who did dare, futakuchi specifically and kogane kept on calling him “Nobu”

-Though he didnt really mind being called that

-It reminded him of you when you called him nobu. Any memory or thought of you was a memory/thought getting lost in for him too

Kyoutani || Puppy

-Let’s get this straight...You and kyoutani never looked like you would be friends considering how different you were

-Well at least how you looked

-Kyoutani looked intimidating and mad all the time! Though he was like that it was only due to his lack of social skills that he ends up acting like that. He does the tough guy persona well too

-You on the otherhand were a graceful little ohime-sama (Princess character) Truth be told though...you were the only one who could put kyoutani in his place with just a few words. You were his best friend since you both came out of your mother’s wombs. 😌🌸

-Just imagine the look on everyone’s face when you finally enroll to seijoh and you hung out with your best friend. Shooketh, as the hip kids say.

-Everyone would practically blink a few more times just to finally accept the fact that you were talking to kyoutani kentarou side by side and you were enjoying the conversation.

-On rare occasions you would wait for his ass, he’s walking towards the gym for practice too since your houses were so close you figured you’d just walk home together also food.

-“Oi, wanna go to my weird uncle’s ramen shop after practice?” He invites

-“Sure! Are you paying?”

-“HA?! I ALWAYS PAY! Boke!”

-Everyone is now scared because he just shouted at the sweetest girl in school and they’re afraid you’d cry

-Everyone’s minds right then and there...

FUC FUCK FUCK SHE MIGHT CRY! Kyoutani is so mean to her! WHAT THE FUCK-

-What they didnt expect was you flicking the very angry boy’s forehead and laughing

-“Hai Hai~ I’ll pay then HAHAHAHAHA”

-You walk into the gym as he goes and gets changed for practice too

-The whole time there everyone was confused why you were there and why you were talking to him and not oikawa cause like- Why else would a girl be there?

-“5 more minutes! Promise!” He tells growls at you and though he wasnt shouting everyone thought he was mad already

-You yawn and after 20 MINUTES You finally feel your stomach growl as well so you got up and walked over to them

-Everyone who stayed behind for individual practice stopped as soon as you walked into the court as well

-“Kyouken huh? Mad dog? Puppy suits you better” You mumble under your breath until you’re infront of the very sweaty man

-Staring contest too

-The tension was high and everyone, oikawa, was anticipating the next few scenes of this very interesting dynamic

-“Mad dog, huh? Cmon, puppy~ You fucking said 5 minutes~ Now unless you want me to go home and tell your mom where you keep your secret porn stash and those CDs you have taped under your desk you’re going to get ready to leave, you tsundere piece of shit~” You say all this in the sweetest tone of your voice

-My man has never been more irritated yet so afraid of someone other than his mother

-You knew how scary that woman was as well so you just watched him get ready and leave

-Back at the gym though everyone was in utter state of shock

-“Shittykawa, do you know who that was?” Iwaizumi asked the setter who was gulping down on his bottle

-“Isnt she the one who got third place in the exam ranks?” Makki informed

-Everyone is now questioning mostly everything about who you were and what had just happened

Im bad at this Im sorry hahahaha I just like doing this stuff I guess though once I start to get into more characters I’ll do the other underrated characters. Like suna, ojiro, chikara, makki or goshiki HAHAHAHAHAHA I’ll just tag those who I discussed this with

@janellion @anianimol @my-mass-hysteria ???

[moonlit-imagines]

Headcanons for dating Peter Parker

Peter Parker x reader

warnings:

a/n: YES I MADE THE MEME ON THIS POST PLS DONT STEAL IT i’ll post it separately if u want i feel like im on a roll

prompt: @babiehonoret: “Hiiiii! Could you do a headcanon for what it would be like as Peter Parker girlfriend?💜”

peter was very new to the whole “dating” thing

but it didn’t bother you one bit, you loved how dorky and awkward he could get

you were both students at midtown high, you attracted his attention after rushing over to one of his science projects at (what seemed to be) random

it’s like he...sensed you

“hey, hi, sorry! i noticed that a pretty important piece was loose on here, which would either be anticlimactic or cause an explosion. i doubt you want that”

“wow, um, thanks a lot..?”

“y/n”

he got lost in your smile

“‘y/n,’ that’s a nice name.........oh! i’m peter, by the way”

“good luck out there, peter. i’ll see you around”

you got in second place at the fair

peter got in third

but he congratulated you and asked if you’d want to go and get pizza

which is a no-brainer

goofing off the entire time you guys were in the restaurant together

“peether! look at dis sheeze!!” (peter! look at this cheese!!)

*cue to an extra cheesy pizza stretching from your mouth to across the table*

and the peter realized you were perfect

he walked you home and it was a looong walk

but you guys enjoyed every moment of it

and as soon as you were home safe, peter rushed back to his apartment to gush to his aunt

“may? may! you’re not going to believe the day i had!”

“you won the science fair?!”

“third place, not important! i met the perfect person for me!”

he was literally jumping on the couch

it wasn’t long before you and peter were practically joint at the hip

his friends teased him so much

“so, when’s the wedding?” -mj

“very funny”

“please, parker couldnt score someone like y/n” -flash

you told your parents about him and they really wanted to meet him!!!

which scared him and his aunt had to talk him through table etiquette

“i dont think it’s going to be that fancy, may”

“it’s best to be prepared, come here”

she fixed his hair and did that thing where someone licks their thumb and wipes something off of someones face, you know what im talking about

“mayyyy”

the dinner went pretty good, all things considered

peter tripped over his words a whole bunch, your parents thought it was adorable

“so, y/n tells me you used to intern with the tony stark”

“y-yes sir”

you walked him out when it was time to go and gave him a peck on the lips that he couldn’t process

“goodnight peter”

and then just like that you were dating

but something seemed really off about peter

he was always sore, he’d disappear at random, and he had these faint bruises and wounds that he swore were from gym class

you snuck out to spend the night with him

may didn’t mind

“keep the door open three inches” -may

“sorry, she just finished season three of stranger things”

staying up late, way too late

peter was a new fan of cuddling

cant tell me aunt may didn’t try to bring out the baby pictures

you couldn’t get enough of it

after peter drifted off, you felt a bit cold

you tiptoed to his closet in hopes of finding a hoodie, but found a red and blue onesie instead

*confusion*

*realization*

*looking at your sleeping boyfriend, then the suit, then peter, and the suit*

“holy shit, no way...this explains so much”

grabbing a jacket anyways and laying down with peter again

sneaking back into your house the next day (no one suspected a thing)

you kept peters jacket, he insisted

popping up at school the next day with a hug from behind

“were you going to tell me that you were a superhero?”

you weren’t mad, just intrigued

he put the pieces together right there

“huh??? what??? i dont know what—”

“save it, i think its cool. just dont get killed and i’m all good”

“you are amazing...”

“says spider-man”

now that his secret was out to you, he’d stop by your house every once in a while

injured or just to say “hi” and “i love you lots”

the knocking on the window was hard to get used to

“shit!”

*peter waving with an awkward smile on his face*

he introduced you to happy

not on purpose, he was just with may and it was hard to ignore him

“y/n, this is...harold”

“since when are you calling me by my first name? happy hogan, it’s a pleasure”

peter is always late

and there have been several times hes had to “save you” (just an excuse to hang out while hes on patrol)

covering for him constantly

“oh, peter? yeah, he’s in the bathroom, i wouldn’t go in there. we had a taco bell date that he’s regretting right about now”

later on...

“mr. parker! hope you’re feeling better, try drinking some water”

“huh?”

peter’s the type of guy to send you memes from across the classroom then peering up at you to watch your reaction

Pete🕷💖: “sent an attachment”

Y/N✨: PETER STOP I CANT CONCENTRATE

you’ve definitely sang “the itsy bitsy spider” to peter

he cant decide if he loves or hates it

bonus if u start tracing his back it makes him tingly

“your hair is so fluffy!”

fluffing his hair while he makes his lips even thinner

awkward pda

but you give him cheek kisses before every class

spidermankissspidermankissspidermankiss (i had to)

school dances with you as a couple.....chaotic

also you punched flash one time after he called peter a new insult

flash is now a little bit intimidated by you

peter showed you how he makes his webs

“whoa, we could totally use this in b—”

“please dont say it”

“sorry i just like the way your cheeks get all red”

giggle fits that last too long

he has his arm around your waist a lot and it makes u feel all floaty

cant forget about his squad

mj and ned are protective of peter!!!

“if you hurt him we’re gonna come for you”

“yeah, that’s right”

they became your friends too

and you geek out together bc thats just what friends do

and i think thats it for now!

[hopelikethemoon]

A Thing for You (Javier x Reader) {MTMF} [smut]

Title: A Thing for You Rating: Explicit  Length: 3300 Warnings: Smut (f receiving fingering, pregnancy sex, girl on top, and cock warming if you squint) Notes: You can find the Maybe Today, Maybe Forever Timeline here. And release order here. Set at some point between January and February 1993. Shout out to Tiernan once again for yelling at me for this. Entirely unbeta’d or pre-read.  Summary: Reader wakes up to Javier talking to their baby.

Taglist:  @grapemama​​  @seawhisperer​ @huliabitch​ @pedropascalito​ @rogrsnbarnes​ @thewallpapergoesorido​ @twomoonstwosuns​ @gooddaykate​ @livasaurasrex​ @ham4arrow​ @hiscyarika​ @plexflexico​ @readsalot73​ @hdlynn​ @lokiaddicted​ @randomness501​ @fioccodineveautunnale​  @roxypeanut​ @just-add-butter​ @snivellusim​ @amarvelousmandalorian​ @lukesrighthand​ @historynerd04​ @mrsparknuts​ @synystersilenceinblacknwhite​ @behindmyeyes-insidemyhead​ @exrebelshocktrooper​ @awesomefandomsunited​​ @ah-callie​​ @swhiskeys​​ @lady-tano​​ @beskar-droids​​ @space-floozy @cable-kenobi​​ @longitud-de-onda​​ @cool-ultra-nerd​​ @himbopoes​​ @findhimfives​​ @pedrosdoll​​ @seeking-a-great--perhaps​​ @frietiemeloen​​ @arrowswithwifi​​ @random066​​ @uncomicalhumour​​ @heather-lynn​​ @domino-oh-damn​​ @cyarikaaa​​ @ahopelessromanticwritersworld​​ @im-still-a-pieceofgarbage @ksgeekgirl​​  @yabby-girl @xqueenofthecraziesx​ @punkass-potato​ @coredrive​ @pascalesque​ @theduchessofkirkcaldy​ @queenquazar​ @sabinemorans​ (if I forget to tag you, I’m sorry)

“I didn’t know I could love someone without even knowing them yet.” Javier’s voice broke through the silence of your bedroom. 

You had been somewhere in between awake and asleep for a few minutes now, but he didn’t know that. You had been listening to the steady rhythm of his breathing, enjoying the feel of his fingers as he traced them over your stomach. Maybe he had been talking before too — you seemed to remember hearing his voice in your dreams. Quiet murmurs as he spoke to your unborn daughter. 

In the last few weeks, you had really ‘popped’. The bump was no longer something you could easily conceal. It had turned into a full-fledged pregnancy belly and none of your trousers fit anymore. You hated going to work wearing the ill-fitting maternity dresses that made you look like an old woman headed to a church potluck. They were hideous. 

But Javier seemed to really enjoy the change. Whenever you were alone at home, he’d find reasons to touch you. Even if it was the whisper of a touch as he passed by you in the kitchen. His hands were always on your belly, tracing his fingertips over the newly forming stretch marks that marred your skin.

The way he looked at you made you feel like the sexiest woman in the world. Even at work. 

“I can’t wait to hold you, little one.” Javier murmured, stroking his hand over the bottom of your belly as he shifted to press a kiss to your skin. “But I’m so afraid.” 

Your heart clenched as you listened to him. You should’ve told him you were awake, but he sounded so open and honest with your daughter. You wanted to know what he said when he thought you were asleep. 

“What if you see?” Javier questioned, resting his palm against your stomach. “What if you look up at me and you see that…” His voice wavered, “I’m not a good man. These hands have done terrible things. Don’t know how I’m worthy to ever hold you with them.” He pressed his forehead to the curve of your side. “I don’t deserve either of you.” He whispered, stroking his fingers over your skin again. “I wanna do right by both of you, princesa.” 

You tried to remain motionless, to keep up the ruse that you were asleep. You wanted to know these innermost thoughts that Javier kept so close to the chest. 

“I love your mother.” Javier said with a quiet urgency. “What if it isn’t enough? I wouldn’t blame her for leaving me. All these years and she’s seen the shit I’ve done. Knows me better than anyone else.” He sighed heavily. “It would break my heart, but I couldn’t hate her for it. She could leave tomorrow and… I’d miss you both.” He pressed another kiss to your stomach and you tried to repress the well of emotion rising up in the back of your throat. 

You already knew that he feared this. Feared that you’d leave him. You had, after all, left him that morning. But hearing him admit it so earnestly to your baby… It hit differently and it fucking hurt. You wanted to comfort him.

But right now, your daughter was comforting him. 

“It scares the shit out of me,” Javier admitted, keeping his palm pressed to your stomach. His voice had woken her up, the first flutter of a hand or a foot — and then a more steady movement. “Hi, baby girl.” He murmured, his voice so full of affection it made you want to weep. Your emotions were already running so high and he was just driving it home. “I hope you know how much I love you, little one. Almost as much as I love your mother.”

You wanted to wind your fingers through his messy hair, to slide your hand over his back and quietly assure him that you loved him too. That you couldn’t fathom a life without him in it. He’d been such a steady and ever-present figure in your life since you came to Colombia and… you’d always loved him. First as a partner, then as a friend, and now… as the father of your child. 

When you dated Lance, he’d once broached the topic of children. He came from a large family. He had a slew of nephews and nieces. But no matter how hard you tried, you couldn’t picture yourself as the mother of his children. Being a mother was already a complicated scenario for you —  but somehow, with Javier… you could see it. 

You could picture a baby girl with his warm eyes and dark curls. 

Somehow, deep down, you’d always known he was ‘the one’. 

“I’m not a good man,” Javier continued as he rubbed his hand over your stomach, his thumb rubbing little circles against your skin. “But I wanna be better for you and your mother.” The baby kicked again and you couldn’t prevent the way you inhaled sharply at the slight pain that came with the movement. 

You felt Javier tense beside you. “Baby?”

You reached down and dragged your fingers through his hair, “I’m awake, Javi.”

“Did I wake you up?” He questioned. 

“It’s hard to sleep when someone’s kicking your kidney.” You laughed quietly, trailing your fingers over his cheek. “Come here.” 

Javier kept one hand on your stomach as he moved back up the bed and settled down beside you. “Did you…” The words stuck in the back of his throat, his eyes seeking out yours in the dim light that filtered in through the streetlights beyond your bedroom window. 

Rather than admitting to him that you had heard everything he’d confessed to your unborn child, you cupped his cheeks and leaned in to kiss him. It was a soft kiss at first, one meant to offer comfort, but it blossomed into something more. You wanted to prove how much you cared for him. How unfounded his worries were. 

But you had your own. Because he was right — you did know his past. You knew what kind of man he was. He worried that you would cut and run and you feared the same. Relationships weren’t his strong suit. 

Javier nipped at your bottom lip as he drew back, eyes seeking out yours in the darkness. “I love you.” He whispered, his nose brushing against yours as he spoke. 

Those three words still felt so new to you. Javier never failed to remind you that he loved you. It wasn’t always in words, either. Sometimes he said it simply with a gentle touch or in a longing look. In the way he held you. He had said it all along. 

How many times had he looked at you and left you wondering what that look meant? Now you knew. 

“I love you.” You told him, surging forward to kiss him again. You pressed yourself as close to him as you could, the swell of your stomach pressed against him. His hand skimmed over your skin, trailing down over your side before he grabbed at your hip. The contrast of his gentle caresses, in tandem with the tight grip of his fingers as he held you made you burn.

Heat blossomed low in your belly, a flush of desire pooling between your thighs. There was one thing to be said about being pregnant… All Javier had to do was look at you just right and you were hot for him. 

“Javi,” You started, breathing raggedly as you broke away from the kiss, pressing your forehead to his. You dragged your fingers through his hair, before you curled them around the back of his neck. “I need you.” 

“Baby, can you roll over for me?” Javier questioned, brushing his lips to yours as he tilted his head to kiss you once more. 

“How do you want me?” You questioned, brows drawn together as he loosened the grip he had on your hip. 

“On your side.” 

You rolled onto your back briefly before you rolled onto your side, facing away from him. Your heart was hammering in your chest as Javier curled in close behind you. You could feel the hardening length of his cock pressed against your ass. 

“I wish you knew how gorgeous you look.” Javier muttered, his lips brushing against the shell of your ear as he curled his hand around your hip once more, his hand skimming downwards over your bare thigh, just below the hem of your sleep shorts. “So fucking gorgeous, baby.” 

You rocked your ass back against him, grinding against his erection. “I never took you for the type to have a thing for pregnant women.” You teased him, drawing your tee shirt up over your stomach, a quiet moan escaping you as Javier ran his fingers over the swell of your stomach. 

“I have a thing for you.” Javier said lowly, nipping at your earlobe as his hands continued to wander over your newly bared skin. “You look like the sort of vision men would lose themselves to worship.” 

“I guess it’s a good thing I only want you to worship me then.” You said lowly as you turned your head and caught his lips in a too-brief kiss. The position wasn’t the best for kissing him the way you wanted to kiss him. 

Instead you focused on the way Javier’s hand slid downwards. The path his fingers took over your inner thigh as he slid it beneath the hem of your sleep shorts. With a ghost of a touch his fingertips brushed over the damp crotch of your underwear. He groaned, “Fuck, you’re wet.” His lips traced along the column of your throat. “You’re so fucking wet, baby.” 

Your lips parted to respond, but instead a breathy moan escaped you as he cupped you through the thin fabric of your underwear. He dragged one finger over the seam of your sensitive folds, parting them beneath the fabric. 

Javier’s other hand slid beneath you, fingers loosely curling around your throat as he kept you pressed back against him. “Are you going to come for me, baby?” He questioned, his voice rough with desire as he worked his fingertip over that sensitive little bundle of nerves. The sensation was muted by the barrier of your underwear and yet it made your entire body tingle with desire. 

He knew how sensitive you were like this. 

Your hips rocked into his touch, moaning loudly as you felt your inner walls clench around nothing. It was almost unfair how easily he could make you come. How he could stroke your clit with such a skilled touch. How the rough timber of his voice and the way his fingers curled around your throat made you even slicker with desire. 

Your back arched, your shoulders pressing back against his chest as he kept his finger right on your clit. It was almost too much stimulation. Your cunt clenching desperately around nothing as you shattered for him. And he didn’t let up. He let you grind back against his cock as he pushed you towards a second orgasm, right on the back of your first. 

“Javier.” You hissed out, grabbing at the hand that was curled around your throat. “I wanna ride you. I wanna see you.” 

A groan rose up in the back of his throat as he released his hold on you. 

You felt the bed dip behind you as he moved to rid himself of his boxers as you sat up to turn the bedside lamp on. 

“Much better.” Javier mused as you were cast in the golden light of the lamp. He moved towards you, his arms snaking around your middle. You leaned back against his chest, lifting your hips up as he worked your sleep shorts and underwear down your hips. “You look so fucking good.” 

A breathless laugh escaped you as you turned to face him, “What a sweet talker,” You teased. “You’re just saying that because you want me on your cock.” 

Javier shook his head, “I’m saying it because you’re gorgeous baby.”

You chewed on your bottom lip as you held his gaze. You knew he was telling the truth. Everything about the way he looked at you told him he was sincere. You might feel self-conscious about the shape of your body, but he was willing to worship every inch of it. “Lay back, Javi.” 

He kissed your shoulder, before he scooted back on the bed, reclining back against the pillows. Your eyes raked over his bare torso, wandering downwards towards his hardened cock as it rested against his stomach, leaking with want. 

“Tell me, Javi. I want to hear you.” You urged as you moved to straddle his thighs, your fingers curling around his cock and languidly stroking him. You watched his face with hunger burning in your eyes. “Tell me.”

His lips parted, a low groan escaping him as he watched you working your fist over his cock. His hands skimmed up your thighs and over your hips. “Baby, I’ve always thought you were gorgeous, but like this? Fuck. It’s all I think about at work, baby.” His voice came out low and strained, “You drive me crazy.” 

You smirked at his praise. There was something about the sincerity in his praise that warmed every inch of your skin. “I guess it’s payback for all the times I’m left to take care of my own urges.” You said lowly, rubbing your thumb over the head of his cock, gathering up the pre-cum that leaked from him before bringing it to your lips. 

Javier’s hands tightened at your hips, prompting you to rise up on your knees and move to straddle him fully. You kept your fingers curled around the base of his cock, holding him steady as you sank down onto him. You were practically dripping with your need for him. Your inner walls fluttering around the thick length of him as it finally had something to clench around in the wake of your releases. 

You leaned forward, trying to kiss him, but your stomach was in your way. 

“I’ve got you baby,” Javier drawled out as he sat up slowly, keeping you seated in his lap as he drew his knees up behind you.

You cupped his cheeks as you sat nose-to-nose with him. You searched his eyes, silently conveying the depths of your love for him. You wanted him to know that you thought he was a good man and that was all that mattered. This thing was fresh and new, but you had always known who he was. Even when he couldn’t see it. 

Your fingers curled around the back of his neck, playing with the soft hair at his nape as you kissed him. It started soft, at first, but the desire grew as your mouths slanted against each other, drive by need. You rolled your hips, clenching around his cock as you worked yourself up and down the length of him. There was no haste to your movements as you savored every inch of him. 

His hands skimmed over your back and along the curve of your stomach. There was no part of you that he didn’t touch and worship like he had said. 

“You feel so good.” He breathed out as you broke away from his lips for air. “I fucking love this pussy, baby.” Javier panted, thrusting upwards as you sank down onto him. 

You tugged at his hair as it slipped between your fingers, “Yes.” You hissed out through clenched teeth. “Come on, Javi.” You urged, clenching around him as you slid back down. “I wanna feel you.”

“Fuck.” He grunted, his hands palming roughly at your ass as he guided your movements. “You keep doing that and I’m not gonna last muc—”

You caught his bottom lip between your teeth with just enough pressure to make him groan, a sound that turned even more feral as you tightened around him. You knew he was close, you could see it in his eyes and in the tremble of his thighs beneath your own. Every downward roll of your hips was pushing him closer and closer to the edge. 

“I said I wanna feel you, Javi.” You reminded him, twisting his hair between your fingers as you held his gaze. The look of relief that washed over his face as he came for you made a fresh wave of desire pulse through you. 

He let his head fall forward, his forehead resting against your breastbone as he came down from the high of his release. You clenched around him, milking every drop of pleasure from him as his cock softened within you. 

“Lean back, baby.” Javier murmured as he pressed his lips to the hollow of your throat. He brushed his nose up the column of your throat, “Let me make you feel good too.” 

You dragged your fingers through his ruffled hair once more before you leaned back against his knees. “You always make me feel good, Javi.” You assured him, peeling off your tank the rest of the way. You couldn’t stand your breasts being touched currently, but you knew he enjoyed looking at them. 

His eyes raked over your newly bared skin, his tongue darting out over his bottom lip as his gaze flickered back to your eyes. “You look so pretty sitting on my cock, baby.” He drawled out, shifting his hips beneath you. “So fucking pretty.” He ran his hand over your belly before trailing it lower, seeking out that bundle of nerves just above where his cock was. 

You let your eyes fall closed, teeth digging into your bottom lip as you savored his touch. You were so sensitive. And he was so good at winding you up. “Javi.” You breathed out, lifting your hips slightly, still working yourself over his cock as his thumb circled your clit.

“Come on, baby.” Javier urged quietly. “Wanna feel you come on my cock.” 

His name fell from your lips as you came spiraling apart for him. Your back arching, pressing back against his legs as your release washed through you. You weren’t the least bit ashamed by how vocal you were as a moan rose up from the back of your throat as you rode out your orgasm.

Javier pulled you down with him as he laid back on the bed. As much as you wanted to stay slumped against him, your stomach wouldn’t allow it. You reluctantly let his cock slip from you, mourning the loss of it as you rolled onto your side beside him. 

“Holy shit.” He panted out. 

You actually giggled as you pressed your lips to his shoulder. “What can I say?” You teased softly, trailing your fingers over his chest as you laid there. “I was in the mood.”

“You sure as hell were.” He quipped, raking his hand over his face before he tilted his head to look at you. “You good?”

You nodded your head, “I’m perfect.” You promised him, running your finger down the length of his nose. “Javi—”

“Yeah?”

You smiled at him, “We both love you.” 

It was a quiet way of letting him know that you had heard him, without truly making him face his worries. 

“I love both of you too.” He whispered, rolling onto his side to face you so he could rest his hand against your stomach. “So much.” 

“I know.” You smiled at him, pressing a kiss to the tip of his nose. “You’re going to be a good father, Javi.” 

He didn’t respond to that, closing his eyes and leaning forward until your foreheads were pressed together. “You should go back to sleep, baby.” 

“Only if you promise to sleep too.” 

“I will.” He assured you, brushing his knuckles against your cheek. 

“Okay.” You said softly, turning to kiss his palm before you rolled onto your other side so he could curl himself around you with his face pressed into the crook of your neck. Sometimes it hurt your heart just how much you cared about him. How much you had always cared about him. 

[missrandomdreamer]

Resident Evil Village Heisenberg x OC Fic

Uh uh...*throws words up here and runs away*

PSA: I dont know things about apartment maintenance and like and just this is something that i needed to get out of my system which I will write on more later but this is what you guys get. Sorry its shit >< I dont know what Im doing lol just wanted to post it cause idk

This is like alternate ending shite of Resident Evil Village where Ethan and Heisenberg work together and beat Miranda but Ethan doesnt make it leaving Heisenberg alive but having to be relocate and start over after all of the shit and stuff so :'T but yeah like i said i dont know what im doing!~

read story under cut ;3 if you want and stuff and warning just lots of language cause Karl

A Little Bit of Hope

First half of Chapter 1:

Heisenberg stared at the ceiling while he laid down on his new bed, in his new apartment. Shirtless with only his pants and boots to show for any sort of clothing, his old necklaces, which he still kept possession of hung haphazardly on his heavily scarred chest. He heard the hum of the old fan above him and felt what little breeze came from it. He watched the blades go around in circles stirring up a not too distant memory. How-could he actually be here? Was this all a dream or was he really here? He thought freedom would feel different, not like this. He had been such a caged bird for so long trying to figure out how to fit back into society was hard, especially in a new place entirely. Though he never would openly admit it, he had traded one type of cage for another. The Redfield fucker wasn’t much help, after all that happened back at the village. Sure he got him out of there, gave him a new life but he still felt trapped. “You’ll be under surveillance, don’t try anything stupid we wont hesitate to put a bullet in you.. You aren’t an innocent man, Heisenberg.” Karl’s knuckles had gone white and wanted to punch the prick but he was already up shit’s creak as it was.

He put his hand up, reaching to the ceiling, fingers outstretched before closing his hand into a tight fist, bringing his attention to the foreign objects that clung to his wrist now. Fuck these things. Another little gift from the Redfield fucker. “Don’t think we would forget about your powers, these bangles will put an end to any thoughts of you thinking of using them. You can do your jobs fine without them, the goal is for you to blend in, not to cause another situation like Louisiana and the Village.” Yeah, yeah he isn’t a dumb fuck but fuck him for taking his power from him. He growled and he felt the electricity course in his veins and spark inside trying to break free but the bangles just glowed in response, blocking it from escaping. Karl closed his eyes and huffed it through his nose. He needed a cigar but that would require him to get up and go outside: apartment rules.

However, the knock on the door that came .5 seconds later after that thought would have to make him get up anyways. Fuck what was it this time? Broken pipe? Electrical problem? It seemed he was having to fix something every five seconds. Well I guess that was the purpose of this job yet he couldn't help if this building was a walking hazard ready to melt down at any given second. “Mr.Heisenberg are you in?” came an old but heavily accented voice.

Again Karl sighed, frowning, he really should have got that cigar earlier. “Coming.” he called to the person behind the door which was t he owner and landlady of the apartments, Mrs. Allegri. Heisenberg sighed and threw on an old army green tank and his blacked glasses. He didn’t feel like crossing his room for another shirt or his signature hat, just dressing half-assed today. He maneuvered through his darkened apartment before opening the door blinking at the hallway window’s light. Damn this place was too bright even with his sunglasses, “Ma’am?” he asked as he now turned his attention to the little old woman who stood before him, arms crossed over her chest. Her raven hair piled high into her signature bun, with streaks of grey showing like spider’s web. She gave the man a look behind those cat glasses, it was the usual judgmental look, something he was slowly getting used to but still always making him annoyed. “Got to play nice with the locals.” He thought bitterly to himself. If he could have it his way he would be working in his shop all day and night without interaction with anyone but nope, couldn’t have that shred of happiness could he?

“Mr. Heisenberg, Miss Joyce of apartment 210 is having issues with her air conditioning. Can you please go fix it right away? Also,” she dragged on and Heisenberg fought again with every ounce of being to not roll his eyes, “the one of the washers is leaking all over the floor again. The previous repair man-

“I know Mrs. Alllegri, the old guy, just put a band-aid on it and hoped for the best. I’ll take care of it, don’t worry.” Heisenberg knew the story, old ass hole before half assed his job or maybe he just wasn’t getting paid enough and didn’t really fix anything. Which made his own job more annoying than anything. Like he said, the place was a ticking time bomb, Redfield knew how to piss him off didn’t he? Though Heisenberg was brought out of his thoughts but the woman’s judgmental gaze.

“All right well we appreciate it. Let me know the damage so I can pay you.” She said before taking her worn shawl in her hands and wobbling away muttering something in Italian thought stopped and turned to him. “And Mr. Heisenberg,”

“Fuck what now?”

“Yes ma’am?” Karl asked stepping slight out out of the shadows to watch her leave to make sure she was leaving good this time,

The old woman just huffed and pushed up her glasses, “Miss Joyce is well a bit of an odd one. Don’t give her a hard time, just go in and fix the heater, the leave. I hear she gets scared easily.” Then with that the old nosey woman wobbled away. Karl Heisenberg just watched with a dumbstruck look on his face.

“What the fuck was that about? Why do I give a shit?” Once he knew she was out of ear shot he sighed and cursed under his breath. He gathered his tools and headed to the washer first, he knew people would be bitchin’ about the water everywhere and people needed to wash their clothes. Though as he headed over there, he thought of the old woman’s words. What did the old bitty think he was going to do? Scare the hell out of her? Make this Miss Joyce uncomfortable? All he wanted to do was get out and fix the shit and leave,he didn’t want any small talk. What was she insinuating about this Joyce woman, what was she insinuating about him?

When he got to the laundry room it was thankfully empty so he could work in peace. He scowled, no one even tried to pop up the damn floor? How hard was that? Cursing under his breath he moped up the rest of the floor before getting to work on the machine. If the man hadn’t been distracted with his thoughts he probably could have been finished sooner but his mind kept getting lost in thoughts of his past. He remembered the day it all changed. Ethan had actually agreed to join him with all promises to keep Rose safe. Heisenberg wanted to use the brat Rose to destroy Mother Miranda, because how fitting would that have been? However, Ethan was having none of it he was persistent and nearly just told the Lord to fuck off yet he didn’t. Somehow they fought out an agreement which to this day Karl still isn’t sure how that happened.

They would save Rose and kill Mother Miranda together yet they would be free. However, it didn’t end like that at all. The mechanic was lost in his thoughts; he didn't hear the soft foot-steps of someone coming into the laundry room but the strange sudden noise they made broke him out of his thoughts. He blinked behind his dark glasses before turning around to the door, just in time to see someone quickly fleeing the room. They either move too quickly or he just didn't register them fast enough but he couldn't make out any detail of them. Heisenberg just rolled his eyes and sighed going back to work, now putting all his attention to the washing machine. Whatever the hell that was, guess he scared them off or they just didn’t want to be alone in the room with him. That didn’t surprise him, he had a feeling Mrs. Allegri was spreading some shit about him to the other tenants. Also the frequent visits of the men in black didn’t help his situation either. He had no idea what Redfield and his goons had said about him to the owner of the building but he guessed it wasn’t the best thing because the lady treated him like a criminal.

“Well they aren’t wrong.” he mused, giving a little chuckle. “They have a right to be afraid of me also means less people botherin’ me.” He had to admit he had pros and cons. He hated being stared at, the whispers when he would walk by a couple or the nervous turning of the heads so as to not make eye contact with him. It was both annoying and amusing, depending on his mood. It kind of reminded him of being back at the village all over again. Guess some things never change.

An hour goes by and he’s done. Heisenberg stands up wiping his gloved hands on his pants before taking a step back to look at his work. He pushed back his greying hair before turning on the machine. He let it run through a few cycles before nodding in approval. Finally done: one thing down, one to go. The lord took out his new fancy cell phone (which was bugged and totally had a tracer on it) and texted Mrs. Allegri that the machine was fixed and now he was moving on to the Joyce lady’s apartment. He sent her the bill for the work before gathering his tools and heading up to the second floor.

Heisenberg wondered what this Joyce lady looked like. Had he seen her? She was a Miss so she probably wasn’t married, probably a young kid or something barely scraping by in these over priced dumps. He imagined some mousy little thing or a stuck up prude. He wasn’t sure on what imagine he was going to decide on but he would soon find out. He found her room quickly, the last one down a hallway, one of the studio rooms if he remembered from the map. He was about to raise his hand and knock but paused when he heard music coming from the room.

Heisenberg was surprised to hear the soft melody of a saxophone. He didn’t know the song but whatever it was it was rather pleasant to the ears. The man didn’t want to interrupt the song and continued to listen for a few moments. It was so...sad yet entirely soulful. Beautiful was a word that crossed his mind but he pushed it aside. He cleared his throat and finally raised his hand to the door. No time for daydreaming, get work done and get out as soon as possible, he thought. As soon as he knocked, the song stopped abruptly with a painful squeak. He thought he heard the person mutter shit (which he found all too amusing) before there was a noise of shuffling, a clank here and there and finally the sound of footsteps approaching the door.

The door didn’t swing open but just cracked open just to get a look at the person’s face and their torso. There was more shuffling behind the door but Heisenberg didn’t pay that much except for the face he was looking down at. A round little face, thin lips and green eyes framed by purple bangs. Purple? Right people dyed their hair weird colors nowadays.

“Hi.” Her voice was slightly more on the lower tone but quiet, timid. Also those green eyes seemed nervous. No shit, this girl was scared and nervous. The lord found himself grinning,

“Hey there, Miss Joyce? Mrs. Allegri said you needed something fixed?” a look of realization hit the woman like a truck.

“Oh! Oh yes, yes, Mr. Heisenberg, sorry, please come in.” She stammered and opened the door, taking a step aside so he could walk in.

“Karl or just Heisenberg is fine, Miss.”He simply bowed his head with thanks and walked in. He heard a low but brief woof and turned to find a dog curled up under the table, looking at Heisenberg with weary tired eyes. It was a weird mix of light brown and white with drooping triangle ears and a short snout. He had no idea what kind of breed it was but was (having not seen many breeds outside the mutts from the village.) The young woman caught his gaze and put a loose piece of hair behind her ear before speaking, “That’s General, he doesn't bite and shouldn’t bother you while you work, he’s pretty lazy.” By her tone she sounded nervous, where most people were afraid of him. This solidified his thinking when she continued to speak, “ I could put him up though if you would like me to?”

Heisenberg just smiled, “Fitting name,” he said casually walking over to the dog. He knelt down to the mutt’s level then took off his glove and put out his hand to the grumbly beast. The old dog sniffed it and made another woof before putting his head under Heisenberg’s palm giving him the okay to give him scratches. Karl chuckled petting the dog, he swore he heard the woman behind him sigh with relief. “No, he's fine. Don’t need to put the dog up on my account. It seems he’s pretty content where he is now.” He looked over at her still smiling and she shyly back before negating her eyes. Yep, very shy. “So,” he strolled over to the air conditioning unit plugged into the wall, the thing looked ancient. “Air conditioning not workin?” his tone smooth and in that laid back style like usual. His soft blue eyes flickered over to the woman again who simply nodded,

“Yes, it just happened last night it started making weird sounds and hot air was just blowing out now. I turned it off cause I was worried it would catch fire.” Miss Joyce was frowning now, eyes looking worried but Karl nodded, he knew what needed to be done.

“I see.” His eyes turned back to the machine running a hand over the ancient machine before moving to his tool box. “ Don’t worry, I will get this old thing running in no time. Shouldn’t be too much trouble” he again turned to the woman and gave her a toothy smile, he saw her cheeks darken with a blush before bowing her head slightly and then shyly looking away. Heh, cute.

“Thank you, I really appreciate it. Thanks for coming to work on it so quickly. I hope it’s not too much trouble.” He waved his now once again gloved hand in dismissal as he started to pull out his tools,

“Nope, no trouble at all.” He was already unscrewing parts of the machine when he spoke. He thought he heard her say thank you again. She stood there fidgeting in place before turning back to the kitchen table, where it seemed a laptop was set up.

“Um, let me know if you need anything.”

“Will do.”

There was a brief moment of awkward silence well aside from Heisenbeg messing with the air conditioner and the young woman typing away at her laptop. While he worked he stole glances at the woman and her living space. She had a simple studio apartment just as he suspected but it was decorated rather nicely, cozy even. It was done in warm wood colors with a deep wine colored rug in the middle of the living room. Upon entering the space to the left was the little kitchen and the table which had only two chairs where there was the sliding door that went out to a small balcony. Then in front was the very small living room. There wasn’t a TV to his surprise but just bookshelves, filled with books and trinkets. An old (new looking?) record player and a desk that were on opposite sides of the air conditioner. Though tucked away in a corner was the source of the music he heard: a saxophone resting on its stand, behind a music stand yet not music laid there. Behind a wall was where he figured her bedroom was though there wasn’t much space to call it such. He couldn’t get a good look there without making it obvious, there was also a bathroom tucked between her room and the main living area where he was now. That was pretty much for the room aside from art and things on the walls that he didn’t really care to look at.

Heisenberg continued to work but still kept stealing glances at the woman herself while he worked. He wanted to get a feel of this girl since Mrs. Allegri had made such a weird fuss about her. She was still typing but then would pause and just look at the window in thought as if kind of spacing out before shaking her head and going back to work. The lord took in her hair a deep purple that she had pulled into a loose ponytail. He thought he could see some blue mixed in, odd but strangely pretty to him. She wore simple black jeans and a black and white baseball-t shirt. Also something that stuck out to him that he would have liked to get a better look at was the fact the woman had tattoos. Not just one or two but she was covered . Granted not a whole lot of skin was showing but she had tattoos there: ears, neck, lower arms, hand, even her fingers were covered in ink. He was struck with an intense curiosity and interest in her more than he liked to admit. None of the villagers back home had tattoos, not even the lords except for Super sized bitch’s ‘daughters’ which had on their foreheads which he felt had a more sinister reasoning than just for show. A little voice quietly spoke up in his mind, does she have more underneath all those layers? What do they look like? He squashed that one real quick shaking his head to rid him of those words. Fuck, he didn’t want to think more on that,”don’t turn into a creepy old man, fucker.” He scolded himself letting out a huff, to try to calm his brains, hoping that didn’t get the woman’s attention. Though he couldn’t help think maybe that is why Mrs. Allegri called her odd because of all her tattoos or that she was in fact very awkward but not in a bad way.

“All right ass hole, just get this shit done. Sooner I get this done sooner I can get to actually work on something I enjoy.” Heisenberg said to himself, breathing his nose, pushing back his hair back. He had been working for about close to an hour, something that he should have been getting done quicker. Fuck him for being so distracted. He felt the woman’s eyes on him briefly. Perhaps she was going to say something but when Karl looked up she was standing and getting something from the refrigerator. Maybe he was just imagining it. Through that whole time the two were quiet and so was the dog who seemed to have fallen asleep. He kept thinking the woman was stealing glances at him too or wanting to ask something but either due to her shyness or anxiety she never did.

An hour and half rolls around when Heisenberg turns on the switch to the conditioner before it hums to life. The woman turns and walks over to him waiting with bated breath. No weird sound comes and it gives out nice cool air. Perfect. He gives it a little pat then looks over to the young woman with a big smile, “It’s all ready for ya buttercup, shouldn’t have any problems with it now .” He saw her face turn red at the nickname which to be honest slipped from his lips before he realized it. Regardless she smiled at him,

“Thank you, I appreciate it so much. Is-do I owe you any money or anything. I’m afraid, I don’t know how any of this payment stuff works. This is my first problem at these apartments and wasn’t sure how -”

Karl chuckled and waved his hand, “Hun, you don’t need to pay for anything.Your paying them enough for them to take care of these problems. All of this gets paid by the Mrs. Allegri, don't worry. I’ll give her the bill.” He flashed her that cocky little grin, which again to his amusement, caused the girl’s face to pink just a bit. He saw her put a piece of hair behind her ear again, nervous tick, he mused.

“Oh good then, well thank you for fixing it, you’re a lifesaver.” Heisenberg could hear a little laugh on her words which made his own lips twist into a little smirk again. He just gave a little nod to her before picking up his tools and headed to the door.

“Well if you need any more life saving, you know how to get a hold of me.” he winked to her, “You have a good afternoon, it was a pleasure to meet you Miss Joyce.”

“Hope, please call me Hope and it was nice to meet you too Karl.” she followed him to the door and waved him good-bye before suddenly realizing something. “Oh wait, here-” she ran back inside her apartment while Heisenberg stood outside a little curious wondering what she might be up to. His silent question is answered when she appears with a little container in her hands. She hands it to him and he takes it gingerly looking curious but then looks up to her sheepish smiling face. “Chocolate-chip cookies, I just made them earlier and already ate way too much so you are welcome to the rest.” Then she paused when she noticed Karl looked a bit frozen, “I mean if you like chocolate chip cookies anyway,” she laughed a little bit nervously, “Or if you aren’t allergic or anything.”

It takes an awkward long moment for Karl to speak and he finds himself smiling rather softly at the young woman, “No I would love them, thank you Hope.That's-awfully kind of you.” He holds the cookies close to his chest as if they were the most sacred thing someone has ever given to him. His steely eyes looking at her from behind his glasses. The young woman looked at him with the wide green eyes before relaxing into a little smile. Hope just blushed and shrugged,

“It’s no problem, I hope you like them.” She rests her hand on her door and the two just kind of shyly and awkwardly stand there before Karl clears his throat and gives a nod to her.

“Well, thank you again, see you around buttercup.” Then with that he waved good-bye and as did she, he swears he can hear her soft good-bye followed by her door closing. His mind was buzzing and couldn’t think straight. He almost forgot to text the landlady about the repair cost when he got to his room. Karl put down his tools and strolled over to the little table in his shabby dark apartment and opened the lid to the cookies. The delicious smell of freshly baked cookies wafted his nose and he sighed. Fuck when was the last time he even had a cookie? Had to be before he was taken by Mother Miranda right?It had been so long ago now. He blinked his eyes and took off his glasses, shaking his head as he put them down.

His heart was beating faster than normal and the strange cadou in his chest writhed around like an earthworm in mud. What the hell was that interaction, what was he even feeling right now? When was the last time someone gave him a gift? Someone thanked him? Someone smiled at him, someone called him by his first name for fuck sake? It was too much to feel right now. The iron lord cursed under his breath before putting the lid back on cookies, retrieving his glasses, hat and coat then headed back outside. Karl needed a smoke and to be alone, the best place for that was a poor excuse of a workshop found on the inner ring of the apartments. There was the pool there and grounds for walking animals, then in the back under tall oak trees was his little workshop to where the rest of the day he would reside, forgetting all about the little container of chocolate chip cookies waiting for him on his table at home.

[honeydots]

127 with shuake would be good.

"My hands are not clean, and maybe they never will be, but they can still carry you home when you're ready to sleep."

once again. didnt forget abt these. im working thru em. 

Summary: Goro wakes up one day in a hospital bed with only a bullet wound to keep him company, and not a single memory of who he used to be. 

-

(ao3 link)

-

He was almost certain the last few weeks had been a dream. 

Or maybe, several long and white coated dreams. The kinds with bright lights at an arm's length, and ill-fitting clothes, and men coming in waves carrying their clipboards as flags. With deep voices all at once whispering, echoing, “what is your name?” 

Maybe he was in a hospital. 

His first day of full consciousness was slow and lonely. His second day too, time spent wiggling his toes and counting ceiling spots. Day three he asked for a glass of water and scared a nurse out of her skin, and his week was kickstarted. Which only really meant an actual doctor came in and declared retrograde amnesia the only explanation for his condition.

His “condition” was quite the word to use. Which condition? They could play bingo. Was it his memory loss (obvious, weak narrative), or could it have been the state of comatose he’d been in (intriguing), or even the bullet wound (now here was a mystery, what a plotline) he’d heard remarkably little about? Amnesia, the fickle bastard, was the type to bring one answer to dinner, and disappear by morning. 

But what did he know? 

Well, he knew that this was a pretty shitty hospital.  As far as how he assumed they should be managed, this one was on a low tier. And according to the nurse, as was their police station. Incompetent, and uncaring of his case, which had apparently been made. 

It’d been a week now. He could get up. Limited, with his IV, but he could. The nurse said later that maybe the police would listen to him now, since he was conscious, basically up and kicking. ‘Listen to him now,’ was also an interesting phrase, because he hadn’t been speaking in the first place. 

He wasn’t injured. His vitals were fine, the nurses had told him, and commented he was taking up an unnecessary bed. Not that he could actually make any kind of sound argument, which was frustrating enough on its own, but this didn’t seem like proper procedure. 

He was, once again, very alone in his room. He thought about going to the police station. Incompetent as they may be, there would be no answers here. There was no one here to help him; some healthy boy in a hospital bed. 

He got up. His IV was stuck in poorly, the tape just barely holding on. They’d disconnected him from all sorts of machines. Nothing was roping him down except for saline solution and his own two feet. 

And, he was already standing. 

It wasn’t hard to pull out. 

His hospital gown was tied all the way down, falling just past his knees. He had odd socks on, their texture was weird, and they were several sizes too big. They were thick and patterned, maybe slip proof? But shoeless as he was, they would do.  

The hallway was very empty. He was on the ground floor, but he wasn’t sure there were other stories. Maybe one, or a basement. It didn’t matter much. There just wasn’t anyone around. His concern was in that he didn’t know how long their absence would last. 

There was a glass door at the end of the hallway.

To the police he’d go. A medical bill dodging amnesiac would probably get him some attention. Enough to get a name? 

The door was not locked. That was probably good, for a hospital, and not a security breach, which is where his mind had initially gone. 

Doors are meant to be opened, he thought. There really isn’t anything wrong with that. 

It was just a little bright outside. The sun was up but not too far. He was in the parking lot, and it was almost entirely devoid of cars. Small, small hospital. 

He didn’t exactly have a map, and no nurse was around to give him any condescending directions. He’d might as well go forward, then. He started walking, and thought to himself how odd his feet felt on the concrete. 

No one was out. He hesitated to call it deserted, just maybe a bit early. He kept walking, nerves high, still worried he might get mauled by a stray doctor.

It seemed like this was a very small town, going by his surroundings. Lots of trees, and cracked roads, and old buildings. He didn’t think much of taking it all in. He’d have time for sightseeing when he remembered his initials. 

A bit farther ahead was a woman, leaning on a car parked on the side of the road. She was glaring down at her phone. She looked— maybe irritated? Or tired. He wondered if he could ask her for directions. An aimless stroll through town wouldn’t take him to where he was going, after all. 

“Excuse me,” he called, “Ma’am? Do you know the way to the police station?” He approached her with just enough caution to call it looking out for himself, ignoring the sorry state he was already in. 

She glanced up from her phone. Her hair was short, and dark, and it bobbed around her face. She registered him for a moment, and her eyes went big. 

“Holy shit.” 

He knew enough to know that wasn’t the answer he was looking for. “I need to go to the police, please.” 

The woman kept staring at him. “You—” she stuttered, “are you Goro Akechi? You are, aren’t you?” 

This encounter was already going awry. Did she know him? “Do you know me?” 

“Uh…I mean, no, we’ve never met.” She pushed herself off her car, and slowly put her phone back into her pocket. 

That wasn’t really what he meant. He needed to persist, here. This could be a lucky hit. “No I— Do you know who I am?” 

Blatant confusion spread across her face. “Uh…  Are you not Goro Akechi?”

“I don’t know,” he answered. 

She stared at him again, almost suspicious. Then she looked him up and down.

“Are you… coming from the hospital?” 

“Yes.” He watched her mouth open just a bit in disbelief. He wondered how this woman knew him. If explaining would get more information out of her, then he’d do it. Privacy only existed when you had something to protect, after all. “I’ve been given an amnesiac diagnosis, you see. I’m going to the police station to see if I can find any sort of lead on myself.” 

She looked shocked. “Amnesia? And you’re going to the cops?” She blinked, and suddenly looked very serious. She grabbed one of his shoulders. “Wait. That’s bad news. Don’t go to the police.” 

He (Goro?) hadn’t expected to hear that.“What? And why shouldn’t I?”  

“You… holy shit, kid, do you actually have amnesia?” She pinched the bridge of her nose. “Listen you need to— oh good god, this is gonna sound like I’m trying to kidnap you— I definitely know who you are. I can tell you but we shouldn’t… here. If someone finds you… ” She exhaled hard, and looked him dead on. It made Goro freeze. “Fuck, okay. The gist of it is— you’re in more danger than you realize. Like, a lot more. Will you come talk with me in my car?” 

Alright. So, a lot to process, and a lot he didn’t know how to. He didn’t even know if he should process it, or if that was the kind of story that should be immediately disregarded. Someone telling you to not go to the police and please get in their car seemed like a textbook stranger-danger red flag. There had been something uneasy about her tone, though. Like genuine concern— not that such a thing couldn’t be perfected and acted, however. 

But she’d given him a name. And it felt almost tangible, the more he thought about it. Less bendable and more sturdy. It was very easy to attach to himself. And it was a lead, wasn’t it? 

“Hey, did you get discharged, or are you just wandering around? Cause they’re gonna be looking for you if they didn’t let you out,” said the woman, jump starting Goro (almost certainly, Goro) out of his head. “And kid, I cannot just let you turn yourself in to the cops.” 

‘Turn myself in,’ he thought to himself. Such particular wording. It made his stomach drop. This woman knew more than him, clearly. And really, for fucks sake, if he died, he died. Obviously he hadn’t left enough of a mark on anyone to warrant not a single visitor during a five year coma. According to the nurses, it was more evident that he’d simply been dumped in town— like someone had already been trying to get rid of him. 

Well, whoever they were, they’d forgotten to bury his bones. 

He straightened himself up. “Okay.” 

She looked surprised, at first. She swallowed around it. “...Yep, okay then. Hop in before you change your mind.” She popped open her car door, and Goro circled around the side and followed suit. 

Her car was messy. It was filled with food wrappers and empty bottles, but papers and notebooks were scattered around, too. So she kept busy, it seemed. He decided he’d consider this a point in the not-about-to-murder-you direction. Too much here that could be used as evidence against her. Too personalized. He was almost envious. 

She adjusted her seat forwards and turned on the ignition. She was a bit jittery, Goro noticed, as she scratched the back of her head vigorously. 

“So, I’m gonna drive us somewhere that isn’t here but I can talk and drive so, just— like,  just a second, okay?” 

He nodded. She drummed her fingers against the steering wheel. “...Goddamn,” she muttered, and then pressed down on the gas, turning her car onto the barren road. 

She kept her eyes forward, but kept true to her promise of talking. She sighed. “Right. So, uh, to start… Okay, first, my name’s Ichiko Ohya, I’m a journalist. Get that cleared away. Next comes you which is a bit more complicated, but you probably wanna know why we’re dodging cops so I’ll start there. Or, as close to there as I can.”

He would take anything he could get from her, actually. The cops situation was undeniably concerning, but right now he was essentially a sentient empty shell, absorbing everything for the first time. A kid in a metaphorical candy store, but the store was a dodgy reporter who still might be kidnapping him and just stalling.  He’d call himself the kid, but it dawned on him he didn’t even know how old he was. Fantastic. More things the hospital staff hadn’t bothered to tell him. 

“Your name’s Goro Akechi. I told you that already but, that’s you. At least I’m like, ninety percent sure.” She spared him a glance. “You do look a bit different but all in all I’m— I’m pretty sure. Just the hair and the stubble, you know.” 

Goro hadn’t exactly looked in a mirror recently, so no, he didn’t know. He knew he had long hair— certainly longer than Ohya’s. He rubbed his jaw and felt the rough and gritty bristles that had prickled onto him. It bothered him that he didn’t know. It bothered him that he didn’t know what he looked like. 

Ohya continued, not letting him dwell for long. “You’re also sort of famous. Well, you were, and it was mainly with teenagers and moms in the city, but you were a popular detective. So, that’s how I know you. And I swear I’m getting to the running from cops part, but you have to know this first first. Oh, shit, it’s right here.” She took a sharp turn into a grocery store, and Goro had to grip the side to keep steady in his seat. 

She didn’t act very sheepish about it. “Sorry, for that. We’re gonna talk in here.” 

She paused her explanation to pull into a spot, which Goro felt a little thankful for because, under his circumstances, that felt like a lot of information to take in. He was well known, but not well known enough that anyone out here knew him. ‘Famous detective’ raised some weird alarms in his head, a position absurd enough that it might be true. It felt unfortunately right, like a disappointing truth. It was different from his name, more unwelcome. But it didn’t click either. Nothing had been clicking at all. 

There was a pit growing in his stomach, like something was in there, chewing down on his insides. But he’d found he didn’t care for ignorance, so he would put up with it for as long as it took. 

Ohya turned her car off, pushed her seat away from the wheel, and got herself comfortable. She faced him, nonchalant but sincere. “So this is where the really juicy stuff comes in, alright? So like, listen up now, if you weren’t.” There was something very serious about her eyes. 

As if he’d have let any of her explanation slip under his radar. “I’m listening.”  

That was a good enough answer for her, it seemed. 

“I’m trying to think of the best way to explain this, honestly,” she started, thumbing the back of her hand. “You… okay, there was this guy. He was a really big politician that you were involved with, and it’s kind of a gray area as far as what you were doing for him, but you and him worked together. Kind of. He was a really shitty guy.” 

She looked like she was considering her words. She turned her focus out the windshield for a moment, and sighed again. “He basically ended up confessing because this group— well, actually, they don’t matter right now. He confessed, and he talked about you. For some of it. It was a long fucking confession. But half of what he said wasn’t even coherent. He was talking about some crazy shit and no one knows what he meant by it. You were part of that whole section.” She paused again, thinking. Goro let the silence sit. He didn’t want to jump to a conclusion until he’d heard her out. Which was proving difficult, truthfully, because this all left a sour taste in his mouth, one that had almost certainly been there before. 

“They wanted to take you in for questioning, but you disappeared. And, to add fuel to the fire, they were having a hard time getting any actual concrete evidence,” she began. “Can’t make an arrest based on a confession alone. He did other things, too, and that's what he ended up being indicted for, but there's still that problem. This whole chunk of confession is still there that technically lines up with his timeline of events, but there’s no way to prove it. That’s why they want you,” Ohya’s expression darkened. “At least, publicly, that’s why they want you.” 

She readjusted in her seat again. She faced him fully. “This guy— Shido’s his name— he’s got goons. Not to mention, he had complete control over the police, and there are other higher up’s who worked with him. Some of those guys got busted with Shido’s confession, but there’s a few where there just isn’t enough evidence to put ‘em away. These are the ones who you need to watch out for.” She took a deep breath, not finished. 

“I’m gonna be frank with you,” she continued. “They want you dead. They don’t want a single loose end, and you’re still dangling. The police are on their side. Are you understanding me?”

Goro tried to let the words sink in. That was more than a lot to think about. The creature in his stomach was grinning now, he could tell. But, this was also no time to get overwhelmed. If her words were true— which, the overwrought familiarity of her explanation compelled him to trust them— he needed to keep his head above the water. 

“So these— subordinates. You’re saying they’re after my life? They can’t be actively hunting me down, if they have the influence you’re implying, or I’d have been found by now,”  Goro said, deciding to ignore the fear creeping up his spine. “So then, what’s my public status? How unlikely was it that I was the egoless comatose patient they were searching for?” 

“Uh…��� said Ohya, seeming like she was the stunned one. “Well, you’re right, they don’t really have a manhunt right now. I guess I don’t need to worry about beating around the bush here— you’re presumed dead.”

Interesting. “That doesn’t surprise me,” he said, furrowing his brow. “But, obviously, a body was never found. They’re probably prioritizing morgues then, not hospitals. That does explain why I wasn’t discovered after all this time.” Though, if they’re smart, they’d also keep an eye on cases like his. They probably were, in fact. He’d gotten lucky that the police here were clueless. 

Ohya gave him a very funny look. “You know, it’s almost creepy how well you’re taking this. You were in a coma this whole time?” She shook her head. “I’d have thought you’d be more out of it, honestly.” 

“Is this not what you’d consider a wake-up call? I’ve been ‘out of it’ for a week. It’s common sense that I’d react like this,” he told her. Just going outside had cleared his head. He had a feeling hospitals had never been a fitting place for him. “Yes, I was in a coma,” he added, as an afterthought. “They said I’d been shot.” 

Just as the words left his mouth, he realized the implications that had. 

Ohya noticed just as fast. “You said shot?” 

They’d certainly both had the same assumption— maybe an attempt had already been made after his life. 

But there was something that felt wrong about that scenario, too. “I’m not… entirely sure it’s what you think it is,“ he replied. Maybe wrong wasn’t the correct word but, it wasn’t completely right either. “There’s no benefit to not making my body public. And, if they’re really after me, it seems messy, to say the least, that they didn’t finish the job properly.” He tried to speak confidently. The effort was familiar, too. Part of him wondered when he’d get the chance to do some self-analysis and tear himself apart. 

Ohya caught on very quick, rolling with every punch Goro gave. “Christ, kid. What kind of shady shit were you into? So we’re thinking you’ve got another group after you?” 

“I don’t know.” 

He really didn’t. There were missing pieces, but that was evident. He had no end of missing pieces. If he was supposed to be some detective, then maybe he should get on with acting like it, and figure out whatever the hell this was.

Whatever business he’d wrapped himself into. 

Ohya, again, spoke too quickly for Goro to finish digging through his own head.

“Maaan, I’ve really got myself into something haven’t I?” She rubbed her eyes, like she was already exhausted. “Look, I’m a busy woman. Don’t expect much out of me, but apparently I’ve got a bad habit of adopting puppies. So I’ll see if I can at least point you in the right direction, okay?” 

He didn’t have much of another choice, other than to let himself be killed. He nodded again, not sure whether to call himself pleased or solemn. 

She buzzed her lips and looked at him, obviously thinking. Then she opened her car door. “Well, okay. First things first, you gotta get some clothes, ‘cause you can’t go walking around like that. God, you don’t even have shoes…” She got out and stretched, and then turned back to him for one last comment. “Don’t expect much, okay? I’m not made of money. Don’t you dare go anywhere, either.” 

She slammed the door shut and started walking into the store. 

Goro was glad for the moment of peace. He let his jaw relax, closing his eyes. He hated how familiar the stress felt, and how desperate he was to welcome the feeling. A life or death promise was about as thrilling as one day should get. 

Getting any memory back was his top priority. But he didn’t have an inkling of where to start. He didn’t have a phone, or a computer, and certainly not a home. He guessed he could use a public computer at a library, but just searching himself might raise more questions than answers. They’d be important questions, he was sure, but he wondered about the bias, the assumptions, the fact that it’d be an outside perspective looking in. He didn’t know how delicately he should go about regaining his memories. 

Not to mention, he had only the word of a stranger and a low feeling in his stomach confirming he was even Goro Akechi. And now, with the reputation he’d had, if he even wanted to be him was questionable. Memories of such a life seemed… unpleasurable, at best, but he hadn’t set himself up to be able to just start over. Remembering his past was his best chance at plain old survival. 

He wanted to have some kind of plan before Ohya came back, but he was drawing blanks. What he really needed was someone who knew him personally. Beyond media attention, if there was a single poor soul around who’d actually known him. He found himself doubting such an existence, past anyone who was out for his head. 

He heard the car doors unlock, and he opened his eyes. Ohya was walking back with two bags, and she was on her phone again, barely looking where she was going. Well, there goes him having a plan. Bouncing ideas back and forth was the last thing he wanted to do. It was time wasted and he knew he would get frustrated, but his choices were limited. At least Ohya seemed pretty knowledgeable. It was possible she knew more than she was letting on, too. 

She opened up the car door and tossed the bags onto his lap. “Hey,” she began, setting herself back into place, “I got your stuff but— I remembered something in there that might be a good starting place for you, if I can run that by ya.” 

Or, of course, he could hear Ohya out and avoid idea bouncing all together. Something solid had come by much quicker than he thought. 

*****

Ohya’s plan wasn’t bad at all. 

She’d told him she had a contact from a few years ago, who was in charge of a bundle of self storage units. Apparently a certain “Goro Akechi” had registered himself one a couple months or so after Goro’s public disappearance. They’d told her once they noticed the name, but Ohya hadn’t taken up the lead at the time. When Goro asked why they’d even told her that, she left it at “no reason important,” and kept the topic adamantly off the table. Goro would push the envelope if it weren’t for the fact that his life (a life he didn’t even know he had, for the record, and one that still bothered him) was on the line. 

If this unit did belong to him, there could be a very solid lead on himself in there, and leads on his acquaintances, too. Ohya didn’t know if the garage still existed, though. So she said she’d give them a call and see if they could figure something out. 

Which is what led to Goro sitting in a barber’s chair. After he’d gotten dressed (an ensemble of sweats, a sweatshirt, and tennis shoes) Ohya had commented that he looked like he belonged in a homeless shelter, and “really needed a haircut.”

She said something about how he’d always kept himself looking clean, and Goro believed it. He was already feeling discomfited the way he was. So unkempt and basically filthy. So, she decided that while she was getting her contact all in order, she’d pay for him getting a trim and a shave. 

She was helping him more than he’d expected her to, in ways he didn’t really expect. But he’d take what he could get. He’d hardly had a reason to say no. 

He sat waiting in front of a mirror. He hadn’t gotten a good look at himself until now, but god, she was right, he looked pretty fucking bad. 

The first thought that came to him was sickly. Eyes sunken in, deep bags under his eyes. You wouldn’t expect him to have just been in a permanent state of slumber for the past five years. Or maybe the correct assumption would be, a coma hadn’t been enough sleep for him. 

His hair was just below his shoulders, and he had a very pitiful looking beard. He didn’t recognize himself. He didn’t think that would change much after his haircut, but it made him itch. It was a face that didn’t feel like his. He wanted to rip it off and replace it with a new one, one he knew better. 

Maybe he’d never liked looking at his reflection. 

Ohya had spoken to the barber for him. The one he got either wasn’t the talkative type, or really got his vibe of not wanting to speak to anyone. She went to work in silence, washing his hair with fruity shampoo and dressing him in a long black apron. That was all fine, albeit uncomfortable, but once she started cutting, Goro found he couldn't watch. The snips were loud, and definite, and it left his chest feeling tight. He couldn’t do anything but let his thoughts run blank. 

He wondered if that was hair he’d had before his incident, now falling away. He’d have the same eyes, and organs, and teeth, too. But he felt all wrong in this body. Like it had gone on without him. 

He was thankful when she moved to his beard. Just for a moment, though, because having someone so close to his face made him want to retreat as far back into himself as possible. A blade so close to his throat. He wondered how hard of a push it would take to make a cut. He wondered how deeply he’d have to go to make it bleed. 

 Maybe he’d always hated barbers, too. 

When she’d announced she was finished, and Goro forced himself to look back in the mirror, it actually took him aback. It had taken years off him. She’d styled his bangs, and left no hair on his chin, but most importantly, it was clean. Soft looking. Pleasant. 

It was almost enough to distract him from the discolored scar plastered on his forehead. 

He stared for probably too long. His disheveled bangs had kept it clearly out of view on his first glance, but now that he was fresh and groomed, it pushed its way into the limelight. It was reddish, and almost shiny, and painstakingly circular. 

He could feel dread bubbling up. He tore himself away from the mirror, and found an instant sense of relief when he wasn’t staring anymore. 

Reflections and barbers. More to read into later, he supposed. He was learning he had been quite the hassle. What an annoyance. 

Ohya met him at the entrance. Pure amusement was all over her face. “Shorter than I expected, but you’re looking pretty smart like that.” Her eyes went to his scar, but she made no comment on it. She frowned, but that was all. 

Goro didn’t mind her reluctance on the topic. He raised his eyebrows, and spoke with the silent mutual understanding of  “that is one gnarly goddamn scar” between them. “Ah, and I’m sure the sweatpants add to the look.” 

“Watch it,” she snapped back, sliding into her usual demeanor. “Not like I could get you Levi’s, kid.” 

She paid for his haircut, and out of the shop they went. They walked to the car in anticipating silence. She had her phone out again, texting someone now. Goro didn’t want to get his hopes up. Texting could mean anything, or nothing, or half of one or the other. 

She pushed her seat back getting into the car, and pulled one leg up with her. Goro waited for her to speak, keeping himself tense. He really wouldn’t be able to loosen up if he tried, like a wound up doll who’d gotten stuck. 

Ohya broke the quiet. “It’s still there.” 

Goro sucked in, but didn’t let himself relax. Nothing ended there. It was one check off a list, but not all of them.

 “And can we go in?” 

Ohya blew air out of her mouth. “Well, she said she wants to make sure it's you, because there's only so many privacy laws she wants to break.” She shrugged at him. “But honestly, looking at you now, there's not a doubt in my mind you’re Goro Akechi. So, you can chill about it.” 

He leaned back into his seat. The tensity had not left him. Something was making him lucky today, and he hated it. He would feel much more comfortable in the mitts of misfortune. But he couldn’t help feeling giddy, too. Like something was rubbing circles into his back, easing, but not erasing, bits and pieces of his concerns. It was something to focus on, and a goal to achieve. Above all, that relief made him feel pathetic. 

“I was gonna ask if you wanted to go today or not, but you look more thrilled than I think I’ve ever seen you, so I’m just gonna take that as a yes.” 

He hated the way she worded that. He frowned. “Only if you’re as concerned about my identity as you seemed to be earlier. You’re welcome to take your time, I’m surely not going anywhere.” 

“You’re snarky! I never realized you had an attitude,” Ohya laughed. 

She got the car going, and they were on their way to the unit. Apparently it was quite a ways, and Ohya advised him he’d better buckle in for a long one. 

He could feel his eyelids getting heavy. He had things he wanted to think about, and questions he wanted to ask. Working up a tolerance to being active was not something that could be done in a day, but fuck if he wouldn’t try anyway. 

But, despite how he tried to fight it, Goro fell asleep. 

*****

He woke up when they were about ten minutes from the units. Ohya commented she’d thought it was a little funny that he’d been so exhausted doing just about nothing all day, but admitted too that his body was probably pretty weak, and he really should take it easy. As easy as he could, at least. 

They were both quiet for the remainder of the drive. The sun was getting low now. They were passing by suburbs between grassy fields, driving past exit by exit. He had no idea how long they’d been going for. Ohya had called herself busy, and Goro believed it, so her continual help felt unusual. People weren’t just like this, he was almost sure. 

She also knew things that felt… almost inappropriately relevant to him. The topic of the unit still tingled in the back of his mind. Why had they called her about his storage? And for that matter, why had she even known so much about him? The information she had felt intimate— like the results of a deep investigation. Had this all been yielded from that politician? 

But Ohya had a distinct air of privacy. There could’ve been something personal about her aid, but Goro figured that she wouldn’t crack easily. It might be better to leave it— personal matters tended to yield lasting effects, after all. At least, he assumed so. He really wasn’t sure if that was as big of a plus as it appeared on the surface, though. 

When the centre came into view, Goro let those thoughts ease into the back of his mind. He could focus on Ohya’s MO later. This was leaps and bounds more important to him; if anything was going to last, it was this. He could play detective, just like he was supposed to, and maybe come across some special clue. Perhaps he could test out his muscle memory and flex whatever skills he presumed he’d had. 

They arrived, and it looked extremely closed. Like the only customers they’d been expecting were ghosts. The lights in the windows were off, and the gate guarding the units was shut tight. It wasn’t encouraging. 

Ohya read his expression pretty clearly. She bumped his shoulder with her fist. “She knows we’re coming, my contact’s still here. The front just closes at 6:00. I’ll deal with it, so just stay put for now.” 

And just as she said, after she hopped out of her car and approached the office, the door swiftly opened and a woman joined Ohya outside. The two of them seemed friendly. Goro watched as they talked, noting quizzically to himself that Ohya was someone who talked with her hands. 

Ohya gestured to her car and they both looked over to Goro. He watched them walk over, and obeyed smartly when Ohya signaled him to roll down his window. 

 The woman peeked her head around to look at him, her eyebrows arched high. “Wow,” she said, completely staring now. “I mean, he looks like him, that’s for sure.” 

Ohya grinned. “Sure does. That enough for you to let us in?” She didn’t really say it as a request, more like an expectation. Goro appreciated the tone. 

She fiddled with her bottom lip. “Hmm. You said amnesia? He got any doctor's notes about that?” She asked, giving cue to Ohya’s sour expression. 

“You didn’t say a word about notes 

on the phone, you know.” 

The contact clicked her tongue, and looked back to Goro. She bit the inside of her cheek, and sighed. “Just cause it’s you, Ohya, I’ll take that nasty scar on his forehead as my confirmation.” She rubbed the back of her neck. “Come with me inside, I’ll get his key.” 

Ohya made a haughty noise of achievement, and followed the woman back in. Goro rolled up the window again. 

They were taking a little while. He rubbed at his scar absentmindedly. So obviously a bullet wound, maybe that had been the real reason his barber hadn’t made much conversation. Whoever tried to kill him had shot just where it counted. You don’t fire a warning shot into a head. He wondered if he’d deserved it, and doubted he didn’t.  

Goro removed his hand when Ohya reemerged from the building, and she was looking confident. She slid back into her car and jingled the key to his unit victoriously. “Easy peasy. She’s gonna open the gate for us in a second. Your unit number is 508.” 

They waited for a little while, nerves ever growing, until the automatic gates opened on their own, groaning and creaking until fully extended. Ohya started her car and drove in, squinting at the unit numbers in the low light.

Rows upon rows of garages awaited them. This must’ve been a pretty large lot, by the looks of things. The dirt road was the only uneven piece of scenery, the repetition was endless. He kept a watchful eye on the unit numbers, as well, skipping between the evens and the odds. 

After a few right turns, and one very tight u-turn, they were there. 508 stood wedged between its neighbors, almost at the end of the row, but not quite. Not a thing stood out about it. It was just as gray and worn and untouched as the rest of the facility. Not even the dirt was remarkable. It reminded him of the hospital. 

Ohya held the key out to Goro. 

“I’m assuming you want this to be a ‘just you’ kinda thing?” 

The gesture was something he should’ve expected, but didn’t. It made him hesitate for a moment. 

He took the key. “I appreciate it,” he said. 

“No sweat.” 

He got out of her car, and she drove off to the end of the row. She stayed parked within general sight of the unit. It was essentially pseudo privacy, but neither of them knew how long he’d be in there, and who knows what this could trigger. Ohya also didn’t seem like she knew a thing about amnesia. He wouldn’t look to her for comfort of any sort, but there was reassurance in her being a safe figure. 

He took a deep breath. In through the nose, out through the mouth. This was his step one. He’d gotten himself into some deep shit, his past self hadn’t seemed to have a shred of self preservation in mind. Had he not encountered Ohya, he could’ve been dead by the hands of the crooks that call themselves the police by now. He had a lot more steps to cover, and each one would be riskier than the next. He was much more on his own than he realistically should’ve been. Most people had friends, as far as he knew. But this was seemingly his own fault. He wanted to know why exactly it was his fault. 

One more deep breath. 

He inserted the key into the lock, and grabbed the handle of the metal shutter. He pushed up, and with a squeak of rust and a bang of metal, he opened up his door to more dangerous times. 

And it was nearly empty. 

It was barren concrete. Newly disturbed dust was floating about. It was eerily quiet, and the stale air made his throat itch. Cobwebs stuck in the corners, barely visible in the low light of the setting sun. Though he wouldn’t call it underwhelming. 

In the center of the floor was a cardboard box. About medium sized, without a lid. It matched well with the rest of the room, lined with dust and unaltered. He kneeled in front of it. 

It was its contents that felt much more exciting. There were papers, lots of them. Thick manila envelopes full of information for him to flip through. He scooted back towards the entrance and pulled the box along with, trying to get the last of the light funneling in to help him read. 

It was heavier than he expected, and he didn’t know how much to attribute that to his current lack of strength. He took out the first envelope and it, despite the dust, was clear and candid. When he flipped it around, he noticed with eagerness that there was writing on the front. He tried to make it out as clearly as he could, and in careful handwriting, it read: “05/21/2020— Case No. 1471” 

It was a case file. He pulled out another envelope, and it was similarly marked. His interest was surely piqued. There must’ve been some sort of relevance to these, if they were going to be so pointedly left here. He pulled out a third, and then a fourth, and from the weight he’d expected many more. But, the pile ended there. Instead, what filled the rest of the box was another, smaller, wooden one. 

He took it out delicately, gripping it securely around the sides to ensure he didn’t drop it. This seemed much more… personal. Shiny cherry wood, latched but not locked, just small enough to sit on his lap firmly. A thought that couldn’t help but be excited came to mind. 

This could’ve belonged to me. 

He wasted no time. He undid the latch, and it gave a satisfying click. The hinges creaked just barely as his clammy hands lifted the lid, and pulled all the way back, until it rested hanging by itself. 

Inside sat more papers. Some were crisper than others, some had obviously been crumpled and then flattened out again. But there was consistency in each of them being folded neatly in half, stacked neatly on top of each other. 

He picked up the one from the beginning of the pile, unfolded it, and was surprised to find it had hardly been written on; a simple “To you,” at the top. This was a candidate that had been clearly wadded up and discarded. He set it down carefully, and picked up the next. 

This one hadn’t been written on much, either. It said even less, just “Hello.” 

He picked up another, and another. It was all soft stationary, each topped with slightly different wordings, and some decorated with a couple lines, even. But they were all just about the same, a simple greeting, and then resigning. 

They were letters. Or rather— drafts for one. So he’d learned today that he was indecisive, maybe a bit quick tempered, but potentially also at least organized. He assumed the existence of these drafts meant he’d never gotten around to sending his letter, either. And perhaps he’d never get such a chance, if this visit didn’t convince any muggy memories to creep out of their caves.  

As he pulled out drafts and read his pathetic one-liners, he came across a page that was different. There was actually a fair amount of content on it, over a paragraph's worth. It had obviously also been cast aside, but even a spare scrap could be useful to him, in this state. He used the last of the remaining light to read it. 

“To whom it may concern, 

I would like to skip the inherent shamefulness of writing a letter to you, of all things, in my introduction, and I will title this ambiguously under the assumption that if you believe this does truly not concern you, that you will save me the mortification of reading through it anyways. 

I won’t formally phrase this as a farewell, but you should take it as one. 

Our unknowns are too great to write, and while you were not innocent, neither am I, and there are truths between the two of us that shouldn’t have remained unspoken. I’ve never thought to run from the blame. 

My hands are not clean, and maybe they never will be, but they can still carry you home when you’re ready to sleep. 

Perhaps a fact I recognized too late.

I do not want to say goodbye, however I—“

It cut off. 

The letter left a lump in Goro’s throat. He read it through once more. He wanted to analyze each sentence down to its core, but the light had died out. But there were bits and pieces, words that suck out in his mind. “Farewell,” “Innocent,” “Unspoken.”

“Too late.”

Goro bit down on his lip hard. The case files— those he understood. With the life he’d allegedly lived and the people he’d known, of course something like that would be predominant. They were fact on paper, ignorant of bias, they’d be full of names and leads. They were important. But, he didn’t understand why these almost-letters had been left here. Out of anything that could’ve been kept. Had there been someone he’d felt so strongly for? To be kept in safety behind lock and key? 

To identify this person— that could be his next goal to achieving his memories. To ignite the fire of their eventual reunion, and perhaps they could know what happened to him. They could come easy, though he suspected that anyone who he’d decided to be so rottenly open with wouldn’t be typical. But, they would also know him, past the media, past the appearances. 

And, though he wasn’t going to admit it, he’d needed something more hopeful to work towards. 

He put the papers back where they belonged, placed the entire case back into the cardboard box, and stacked the case files back atop it. 

There was no telling how old these letters were. They could’ve been from much before his incident. But this set him up for a goal, a big one, that might get him back to whatever meager place he’d left himself in. 

He picked up the box, and prepared himself to head back outside to Ohya. He needed to muster up his resolve, because this was only the first out of two very important clues this visit could provide. 

He positioned the box onto his waist, and took one last look into the dark before closing up his unit. He returned to Ohya’s car, pulling open the door without so much as a greeting, and set the box on the floor in front of his seat. 

Ohya leaned forward, interested. “That a box you got?” 

He wasn’t going to talk about the embarrassing letters he found. Even if he wanted to, his second clue came first. “It’s not that important right now,” he lied. “Is your contact still here?” 

She raised her eyebrows at him, but let the topic drop. “Sure is. She can’t leave ‘till we leave.” 

Good. “I need to speak with her.” 

She hummed in reply, seeming very curious by his idea. They drove back up to the entrance, Ohya not questioning his motives, but still giving him an inquiring side eye every so often. 

They got out of the car together this time, and walked into the front office. The woman was reading behind the counter, almost completely in the dark, with only a desk lamp lighting her work area. 

She glanced up at them, and placed her book upside down. “Hey there. You got that key?” 

“Yes,” Goro replied. He placed it lightly on the counter. She took it without a word, and got up to put it back on its hook. Goro stopped her before she turned. “I have a question for you.” 

She seemed a little surprised. She glanced between him and Ohya, and then put her free hand on her hip. “Okay?”

He hoped he could push his luck just a bit further today. He’d made it this far, after all. 

“Is there any way I can see the documentation that was filed when this unit was made?” he asked. 

The woman pursed her lips. “Ohya?” 

Ohya put her hands up defensively. “Don’t look at me. This is all him.” 

The woman stared at Goro. He stared back. This was arguably the most important part of the visit. He needed to see those papers. Just a single particular part, it was the one factor that needed an explanation. He would not leave until he got that documentation, and if he had to stand his ground and pull her leg a bit to get it, he would. 

After their staring contest lasted just a moment too long, she folded her arms. “Jeez. Only because I feel bad for you, okay?” she huffed, turning on her heel. “And because my niece liked your food blog.” 

She disappeared into the back of the office, leaving Goro feeling just a bit full of himself. He would think about the food blog comment later.

Ohya lightly punched his arm. “Okay, good going. But whatcha going to do with that?” 

“There’s something I need to check,” he replied flatly. It made Ohya grunt unenthusiastically. 

The woman returned with a few papers, all paper clipped together. She tossed them onto the counter. “This is a customer copy, okay? So feel free to keep it.” She glared at Ohya. “And, I’m going home now. So, get out, please.” 

That got a laugh out of Ohya. “I know I can always count on you to bend a couple of rules for me.” 

“Out.” 

They left the building, Ohya waving her last goodbyes while Goro rushed to the car. He needed to get some light on these papers, it was long past sundown now. He slid himself into the car, clicked on one of the lights, and went to work reading, all while Ohya was still walking over. 

Ohya opened her door and stood outside watching him, leaning on the frame. First, it was with interest, but it soon turned into irritation.

“Kid, tell me what you’re looking for. You’ve got your eyeballs all over that thing,” she said. 

He didn’t let their conversation stop him from reading. He kept his eyes glued to the page, checking each word and box before moving on. 

He did owe her an explanation. Getting his thoughts out would help him focus a bit, anyway. 

“These sorts of things— storage units. Wouldn't they be paid for recurrently?” 

Ohya went quiet for a moment. “They are,” she said, and joined him in the car. “Shit. Those funds can’t be coming from you, can they.” 

“Exactly. I’m looking for the responsible billing party.” He turned onto the next page. None of the handwriting matched what he’d seen on his papers and files, which further confirmed to him that this unit hadn’t been one he’d purchased himself. Whoever this was had put all that information in there, those cases, those letters. He suspected they weren’t his mystery recipient, but he could confirm that with them once they’d met.

Why this had been done in his name, though, was beyond him. 

He flipped onto the last page, and found his prize. Big black bolded letters asking for the responsible parties name, and neat penmanship filling in the blank. 

“Sae Niijima,” he read aloud. 

Ohya gawked. 

“‘Sae Niijima?’ Seriously?” she scoffed to herself, and sunk down further in her seat. “She’s an attorney. A damn good one, too.” 

An attorney? He wondered how she could’ve known him. “She’s the one paying, apparently.” 

Ohya tapped long slender fingers onto her steering wheel again. She dropped her head. “Guess that means she’s our next lead, huh?” 

Goro adjusted himself in his seat. “It does.” 

“Ahh, man,” she complained. “You’re really somebody who’s in with the big guns, you know. You better let me have some exclusive with you after all this is done, or something.” 

Goro gave way a hint of a smile. Probably his first since he’d woken up. If this would be the last of his luck, so be it. He hated to rely on something so shifty and mischievous, anyways. This was a start, barely a sprout, to whatever his big picture was. But he’d see himself to the very top. 

Really, he’d already died once. Hardly a way to go but up. 

“We’ll see.” 

[kvngjoong]

yeosang + nsfw a-z

mingi has been requested and will be posted next! i haven’t got any requests for hongjoong, wooyoung and jongho, so let me know if you’d like this for any of them!

A: Aftercare

he’s a sweetheart and will always clean up after himself. since he’s so messy anyway, he tries to make it up to you by spending some time making sure you’re not sticky and always offers to run a bath for you, or at least turn the shower on for you. which also means he would sit on the bathroom floor of the toilet seat as you shower so he can talk to you. then cuddle you afterwards, since he thinks that’s sweet

B: Body part

likes your chest, let’s not play, and is probably a fan of a tit wank every now and then. also likes cumming on your chest the most. so that is pretty self explanatory. for himself, he doesn’t have a favourite part of his body but he likes it when you bite his neck and leave a few marks there, leading down to his shoulder

C: Cum

he cums everywhere. sorry if you thought he was tidy but self control is relinquished and he will make sure he had the least aim possible. he’s still a teenage boy at heart and likes the visuals of seeing you covered in his cum, so he makes sure that happens each and every time. at first it might have been an accident but unless you have any adverse objections to him doing that, it’s gonna stay that way

D: Dirty Secret

one time when yeosang was at yours and you were in the shower, he accidentally got a peek of you through the door and got a hard on because of it. he didn’t want to annoy you since you already told him you were tired, so he tries to sort it out on his own. he knew it was time sensitive so pulled a pair of your panties from your drawer and used them to help him. he didn’t mean to cum all over them, but he did what he did and kept them so that he didn’t have to explain himself. he was a pretty good liar when he told you that he had no idea what happened to them, though

E: Experience

he seems like he would know what he’s doing, and likely has some ideas as to what else he could be doing, but doesn’t actually have all that much experience. his priorities were elsewhere and he never really bothered to experience that much nsfw stuff. so it’s not gonna be awkward or anything, but he will still look to you for what you like/are in to so that he can make it better for you

F: Favourite Position

anything where he’s on top. not particularly in a dominating way, more in a sense that he can look at you and admire you and what he’s done to you. so he has you on your back and maybe a leg over his shoulder, if not both. saying that, he may like to do more unheard of things, so it’s not often you do the exact same thing twice

G: Goofy

as long as he’s not pulling the whole daddy dom act, and he’s not asking you to beg him or whatever, he can take a less serious approach and laugh about whatever is going on (something like, you’re making out and you’re like ‘yeosang wtaf your nipples are really hard?’ and he is just 0.0 and you start laughing and he starts laughing), but as a default he’s on the more serious side

H: Hair

trimmed a little, though not too much manscaping. he seems like he keeps himself tidy so it wouldn’t be, like, a mess or anything down there. maybe the longer you’re together, the more he’ll start to take care (does that make sense?) of himself. he won’t expect anything from you though

I: Intimacy

he can be intimate, but isn’t always in that mindset - in the same way that he can be goofy sometimes he can also be more on the side of damn im gonna fuck you so hard and forgets about the intimacy behind what you’re doing. if he subs, then he will be more intimate. when he doms it’s intimate just afterwards and when you’re laying next to him all fucked out, and he’ll just look over to like damn i love you

J: Jack Off

just like every other guy, to be honest. he doesn’t try to hide anything and he jacks off when he’s turned on and it’s an appropriate situation. but he does like to ask you for help and will often use that as a starting point for foreplay when you’re further into a relationship

K: Kink

he’s a switch, and likes it either way but has a preference to dom. he is into marking, he really likes looking at you after he’s done, completely fucked out with eyes wide as you look at him, his cum on you and bruises on your skin because of him. he really likes the way it looks. he probably doesn’t have that many kinks, especially niche ones, but he’s happy to see what you’re into and try to incorporate it when he can. he would be pretty open about nsfw stuff and talk to you about it whenever, so there’s no issues if you stumble across something you want to try - he’s game, too!

L: Location

he doesn’t really have a preference for a location, which ends up being a godsend because he’s happy to do anything wherever you are. maybe not the public side of things, not that he doesn’t like the risk element of things, but he’s down for kitchen sex, shower sex, bedroom sex, here’s my new apartment sex, a whole heap of things. it would also depend of who is dom and who is sub - if he’s sub then he prefers it to be a bit more of a private affair

M: Motivation

literally, it could be anything to a memory or a picture of you, to something you said… he’s still a boy at heart. but that isn’t to say you’ll know what got him hard - he’ll usually keep that a secret for a while unless you actually beg him to tell you. then it’s something stupid like ‘thigh highs look nice on you’

N: NO

this one time you put something in his butt (with his permission of course) and he didn’t like it. there’s not too much to say about it, he just didn’t like the way that it felt and he whined about it for a while afterwards. he is apprehensive about you using any toys around him in case it happens again and he will use it against you as a guilt tactic sometimes. he doesn’t like things in his butt, alright

O: Oral

of course he likes both receiving and giving. it’s usually a part of any nsfw encounter you both have, and he’s pretty good at eating you out. he knows what he’s doing, at least it appears that way, and he knows how to get what he wants from you. he is a real big fan of you pulling his hair when he eats you out and makes that very clear from how he acts. also likes to pull your hair when he’s receiving and shows his dom side too

P: Pace

average, really. he keeps a medium pace and doesn’t really go too quick until he’s almost cumming. when he’s chasing his high he’ll speed up a lot, and then nose dive to barely moving when he does cum. but when it comes to foreplay, he’ll usually go a bit slower and has a smirk on his face the entire time because he likes when you tell him to go faster (and he never actually will go faster, unless he’s feeling especially nice)

Q: Quickie

enjoys them, especially when he knows that he’s going to be busy for a while. he doesn’t mind a quickie in the morning when his schedule is packed, or when you’re going to be home late, or you have to be somewhere in the morning etc. he is especially a fan of bathroom quickies at parties. it hits different when you’re both a little tipsy in someone else’s bathroom, laughing because he can’t get your top off and two minutes later his hand is over your mouth and he’s fucking you from behind (fuck boy yeosang stands prosperous in this house)

R: Risk

he doesn’t mind taking risks. it really doesn’t bother him that much if someone could walk in and catch him in the act. sure, he’ll be embarrassed, but it will be more awkward for the person who actually walked in. that being said, he doesn’t get turned on by the thought of getting caught (he doesn’t have a thing for exhibitionism) so it won’t motivate him any more than usual

S: Stamina

he’s a performer, so he can go for as long as you need him to. but usually, unless you’re asking him to carry on or go for another round, he won’t go again. maybe once to show you that he can. he would prefer to be doing something else with you

T: Toy

like before, he gets scared of toys being used on him so avoids them at all costs. he will still use them on you though, and knows what to use and when to use them. whilst he prefers not to, he knows that teasing you properly will often require a little assistance. so he will keep some toys to hand for when that happens. unless you’re completely against them, then he will stick to his own skills

U: Unfair

he knows how to tease, but usually it’s when you’ve started doing something rather than him teasing you when you’re in the car home, out with friends, etc. he can draw out any orgasm and he can make you beg at any given opportunity, provided that he’s already established himself as dom in that time. if he’s sub, then he can tease you too, but more in a way that he’ll not do as you say. don’t try to tease him, because he’ll remember it and use it against you next time

V: Volume

yeosang really doesn’t give a shit about making noise. he’s not one of those guys who thinks it makes him any less of a person to moan, and it really shows sometimes. whilst yeosang may seem like a quieter type of guy, he will surprise you a little but not being able to shut up when he’s enjoying himself. on the contrary, he’s not the best dirty talker. he probably gets some second hand embarrassment so decides that he’ll keep it to a minimum (unlike, say, san)

W: Wild Card

so he’s a switch with dom tendencies but he loves to play sub sometimes. when yeosang is sub it’s a whole other level. wooyoung might be a brat but yeosang is a power bottom and he very much enjoys it. he knows what he’s doing, and he uses every time he’s been dom against you. one time he’ll act like you’ve got full control of the situation and he’ll give his best act at being the soft little boy you really wanted to dom, and just as you’re about to make him beg he’ll make you wish you never suggested he start as sub

X: X-Ray

a little on the smaller side, but not to his disadvantage. he is a bit thinner than, say, mingi, but he’s still a good size. nothing to be disappointed with, and it’s perfect for his switch personality too

Y: Yearning

doesn’t have the biggest needs out of everyone, though that’s likely because he suppressed it for a while. when you start dating he won’t show the biggest amount of yearning and will wait for you to initiate something - however, there appears to be a clear correlation between the amount of time you’ve been dating and the more needy he gets. that’s probably because he gets comfortable, though, and doesn’t mind asking more often

Z: ZZZ

yeosang probably doesn’t fall asleep after sex and he probably doesn’t get too tired afterwards. he will like to talk afterwards, watch something, play video games, etc. he has a lot of energy and usually wont use it all up on sex so has room to do something else afterwards. even if it’s having you laying across his chest sleeping whilst he scrolls through instagram, or tries his best to tell you a story as he strokes his fingers through your hair

[kirishwima]

Heya! If it ain't too much trouble (if your inbox isn't too full) could I get headcanons about the RFA's (plus saeran, if you'd be willing to write for him too) reaction to a 17 y/o MC? Platonic headcanons of course ^^ Your content for mystic messenger is truly great from what I've read so far! Thanks a lot ❤

awe thank you, i really appreciate that! i honestly only have a couple more prompts in my inbox currently, so im grateful for any and all you send my way! (even if there were a lot i really enjoy writing them so i don’t mind at all~)

ZEN:

* He’s so shocked??? 

* being well, Zen, he immediatly tried flirting with the new person in the RFA, only to immediatly be told by Seven that they’re 17

* Immediatly assumes a Big Brother Role and loves it

* He’s always defending MC, and telling them to let him know if any of the other members make them nervous, calls them frequently and if they’re in high school, checks on them and reminds them to eat and take breaks between studying

* Honestly he’s always wanted to be a big brother so he loves it lol, and he’ll be especially protective of MC from Jumin, constantly telling them to never grow up to be like him

* Will absoloutely let MC call him and vent about whatever is troubling them-as someone who was as troubled as he was at 17, he wants to make MC’s final teenage years as happy as possible wherever he’s able to

* Will Absoloutely interrogate whoever MC decides to date and treat them like a protective father lmao

YOOSUNG:

* Equally shocked, he would never expect someone so young to have to take on the big job Rika once had!

* Honestly he doesn’t care much about MC’s age, although he does feel a little threatened at first-he used to be the baby of the RFA, and whilst he would constantly complain about it, he did like the attention it brought him

* When at some point MC asks him for any advice and thanks them for it, he does feel a sudden surge of pride-he’s an only child and never really interacted much with people younger than him

* He’s the youngest so he still remembers what being 17 was like, and how overwhelming things could be, especially if MC’s in school

* He’ll do his best to help MC study, even meeting up with them and tutoring them-if their marks improve after it or it helps them in any way, he’ll be so excited!

* Will also become really protective of MC, and might even argue with Zen over who MC’s big brother is (hint-it’s neither of you y’all are like, in your early 20s chill)

* Just overall happy to have another friend in the RFA really

JUMIN:

* He...doesn’t....care?

* He’s surprised that V allowed someone so young to just, live in Rika’s apartment and take over her job, but he doesn’t really question it. After all, when he was 17 he was already pretty much running the company alongside his father.

* He’s as cold and aloof as always, although he’s confused as to why Zen becomes so protective and even more furstrated with Jumin than usual. Has he said anything to offend MC in anyway?

* He eventually calls MC and asks if they’re finding everything in the RFA allright, or if they need any help, and after getting to talk with them, sees why the whole of the RFA has taken such a liking to them-MC reminds them all of who they once were at that age.

* It’s not like anything drastically changes in his behavior-he’s still thankful that MC is doing their new job properly, but he’s careful to not overwhelm them with tasks, and frequently will ask if they need any help. He also insists that they should return to their home as soon as possible so as to not worry their family or care giver.

* If MC is a student, he’ll offer to hire one of the best tutors for them, even if they don’t need it-he considers it only natural to receive as many educational opprotunities as possible

((No Jumin, not everyone has had tutors during their high shcool years. Yes it’s doable pls stop nagging Zen about it))

* Yeah, overall he’s just the same as always lmao

JAEHEE:

* She’s actually really concerned when she finds out MC is only 17. How did V ever think that it’s alright to put someone so young into a predicament like this?!

* Will frequently call MC and check in with them, see if everything’s all right, if they need anything e.t.c

* She just really wants them to be comfortable in the RFA-not only does she remember how hard it was for her to adjust after joining, she can’t imagine how hard it is to be thrown into this situation at this age. She genially wants MC to be happy

* Might come off as a bit of a mother hen at first-even the rest of the RFA tell her she doesn’t have to keep worrying over MC so much, after all they’ve proved they’re a responsible person and can take care of themselves

((Take care of-THEY’RE A BABY she screams to deaf ears))

* She does however, realise that everyone else is right-MC is diligently doing their job, and seem to have their shit together. That however doesn’t stop her from watching over MC regardless.

* If MC tells her that they look up to her like a big sister, she’ll smile the softest little smile, happy that MC feels like they’re family

* after all, that’s what she too secretly hoped to receive from the RFA-the family she never had.

SEVEN:

* Obviously, with a quick search he found out MC’s age

* He’s concerned, yeah, but he’s also never really had a normal childhood ((understatement of the century)) and can’t really be certain wether it’s normal for MC to be in the situation they are at this age or not

* More or less he treats them exactly the same-he’s as concerned as he’d be for an MC of any other age really

* He does however constantly tease them about their age-he’ll say something along the lines of ‘back in MY day’ or ‘when i was your age...’ at least once per each chatroom lmao

* When/If he comes to Rika’s apartment to protect MC, he’ll be distant at first, but not as much as he’d be with an adult MC-he remembers what it’s like to be alone at that age, remembers how much he despised it-he can’t help but be a little more lenient with them. He’ll still try to push them away, alert them of the dangers of associating with him, but he’ll also constantly hover over MC, have them tell him about their troubles, making sure they eat e.t.c.

* P much just acting like an annoying big brother lmao

V/JIHYUN:

* As soon as he found out that MC’s only 17, he became insanely concerned.

* What was Rika thinking?! Why would they put such a young person in such danger?! 

* He’s so worried, he can’t help but frequently log in to the messenger and call MC to make sure they’re alright and as safe as they can be. 

* He’s taken care of Saeran and Saeyoung as young teens, so he’s probably the one to treat MC the most normally than any of the other RFA members. He’s patient and sweet with them, treating them like a mature person but also mindful of their age at the same time

* He finds it sweet how the rest of the RFA cares so much about MC-it brings him peace to know that no matter what, RFA will have their back.

* If they’re a student he’ll also try and help them study, mainly with more theoretical subjects like history, art e.t.c. He’s also frequently reminding them to take breaks and rest, that their mental and physical health will always be more important than schoolwork.

* Would honestly feel more like a doting dad than a big brother, he’s pretty much a perfect parental figure lmao

SAERAN:

* Of course he knew MC was 17, since he’s the one that brought them into the RFA in the first place

* Their age didn’t really have anything to do with why he chose them; he just did as he savior told him to and chose the person most suitable for the job

* He’s reminded of MC’s age through the little things-monitoring the RFA chatrooms and seeing how the members treat MC, how they’ll frequently talk about their schoolwork or daily life matters, little things that kept piling up in Saeran’s consiousness 

* When he’s finally free from Rika’s grip and has a clearer view on things, guilt eats him up from the inside out at the fact that he put a person this young through such an ordeal-it’d be bad enough for anyone, but a person who’s not even an adult?!

* He’s reminded of the horrors he went through when he was young, the mess he’d been in when he was 17-it makes his stomach churn, to think he’s put another person through such horrors

* It’ll take a lot from MC to not only forgive him, but also help him understand it’s not his fault-he was genially not in control during those times, and his guilt proves that.

* He’ll try and avoid MC at first, but if they keep pushing, he’ll eventually open up and befriend them.

* He’s genially happy to see MC forgive and slowly forget about the whole Mint Eye ordeal, to slowly return to their everyday life, almost as if he’s seeing what he’s missed out during that age through them; it brings a bittwersweet feeling to his chest, to see what could’ve been.

* He’s not really a big-brother type-but he is a fiercly loyal friend, and he’ll be there for MC through thick and thin, and god have mercy on whoever dares try and hurt MC-hell hath no fury like an angry Saeran.

I’m sorry these were quite short, i really couldn’t think of much else T-T regardless of MC’s age, the whole RFA gang would care for them as a friend and family!

-Send me headcanons/scenarios for mystic messenger characters’ reactions!-

[incredibeale-archive]

Aubrey is Beca's older step-sister but they're pretty close. Aubrey is overprotective of Beca because of???? (insert secret here). Chloe is Aubrey's BFF but they only met at Barden. When Beca comes to Barden and meets Chloe, Aubrey senses the connection between them. She's torn between wanting Beca and Chloe to be happy, keeping Beca's secret, and not wanting either of them to get hurt.

[Hey, so i’ve had this in my drafts since like almost the beginning of this blog. yikes im terrible  anyway, i don’t remember what the fuck my original plan was, but the new plan is this: I’m gonna post this in parts because it’s already super long? (it seems long anyway) and i have a plan. sort of. i’ll try to post the next part tomorrow night. enjoy???]

( part 1 of ? )

(Part 2)

“Bree?” Aubrey knows that voice. Her heart nearly stops in her chest as she turns in time to see her step-sister, smiling brightly at her.

“Beca!” The blonde moves quickly and wraps her arms around the smaller woman in a bone crushing hug. It’s been a few months since she’s last seen Beca. Not since mid summer, anyway – when Aubrey had gone home to spend time with her father and step-mother and of course, Beca. 

During that time, Beca had surprised her with the news that she’d be attending Barden next year, with Aubrey. However, the brunette had kept her arrival time a secret.

“I don’t mean to interrupt, but…” Aubrey pulls back at that, though she doesn’t release Beca entirely, her arm moving to loop itself with the tiny brunette’s as she offers her best friend a sheepish smile. Chloe just smiles brightly back, blue eyes darting between the two of them curiously.

“Chloe, this is Beca– my sister. Beca, this is Chloe–”

Chloe holds out her hand eagerly. “The best friend.” She interjects excitedly. “I’ve heard a lot about you!”

Beca smiles bemusedly for a moment, staring down at the hand hanging between them before she finally takes it, shaking it hesitantly. “Uh– cool. Nice to meet you, dude.” She raises a brow at Aubrey who looks away with a small grin.

“Oh, don’t worry!” Chloe chirps with a wide grin. “All good things.”

Beca chuckles. “I’m sure.” Her lips curve into a crooked smirk. “I’ve heard about you, too.” Aubrey watches as Chloe raises her brows expectantly. “Oh, don’t worry.” Beca starts, her smirk growing. “All good things.”

“Well, obviously.” Chloe says in a ‘duhhh’ sort of tone. “I’m aca-awesome!”

“And humble, apparently.” Beca quips in amusement. “Also, we’ve got to talk about both of your apparent annihilation of the English language. ‘aca’ is not a real prefix, guys.”

“Aca-scuse me?” Aubrey shoves Beca playfully.

“Oh it totes is!” Chloe says, nodding her head sagely.

Beca just smirks. “Wow. I can feel my IQ dropping just standing here.”

Aubrey scoffs and rolls her eyes in amused affection. “Please, like you had any to spare in the first place.”

The smaller woman feigns a gasp, hand going to her heart. “You wound me with your words, Posen.”

Meanwhile, Chloe watches with a mixture of curiosity and amusement.

“Shut up Mitchell.” Aubrey shakes her head, but her expression soon turns to one of concern. “Now, why didn’t you tell me you were coming? Do you need help finding your dorm or unpacking? How did you even know where to find me?”

Beca’s smile turns soft as she places a reassuring hand on Aubrey’s arm. “No worries, dude. I’m good to go. I’m already unpacked over at Baker Hall. First floor, room 6. As for how I found you– Bree you’ve been talking about this– activities fair thing nonstop, every time we talk on the phone or skype.”

“Speaking of–” Chloe says before Aubrey can reply. “You should totes join. Bree says you’ve got an amazing voice and you’re crazy talented.”

Beca raises a brow at Aubrey who shrugs like, ‘so?’. “Don’t look at me like that. You are crazy talented.”

“See? So, you should totes audition. We could really use you.” Chloe says, taking hold of one of Beca’s arms. Aubrey internally winces as Beca’s body visibly stiffens. Sometimes she forgets how… personable Chloe can be. She prepares for Beca to rip her arm away, but to Aubrey’s surprise, she doesn’t.

Instead, Beca just kind of stares up into Chloe’s eyes, body slowly relaxing, while Chloe stares back, smile bright and completely oblivious to Beca’s unease.

“Please?” Chloe pouts, giving the arm in her hand a gentle squeeze.

Beca blinks after a moment, cheeks tinging pink as she stumbles back a little. “I– uh– I’ll think about it, red.” Aubrey is torn between being concerned and amused. Her step-sister is kind of a useless gay when it comes to pretty girls and Aubrey usually teases her relentlessly for it, but this– this has the potential to be a nightmare waiting to happen. And not because she thinks Chloe would break Beca’s heart– no, Chloe isn’t the type. She loves without reservation, she loves hard. No, it would definitely be Beca who did the breaking– and most likely not on purpose, either.

Plus, she cares deeply for these two people, and the last thing she wants is for either of them to be hurt. She pushes these thoughts aside, though– choosing to hope that something like that doesn’t happen.

“You better!” Chloe finally releases Beca’s arm and turns toward their table to grab a flier before thrusting it into Beca’s hand.

—

Beca ends up auditioning, much to Aubrey’s (delighted) surprise. What Aubrey isn’t too delighted about is that Chloe seems all the more smitten with Beca. It’s why she keeps a close eye on her step-sister during hoodnight. Her protective instincts really rise to the surface when Beca becomes visibly uneasy as one of the new Treble recruits approaches her.

“– It’s inevitable. You’re one of those acapella girls and I’m one of those acapella boys, and we’re going to have aca-children together.” Aubrey hears the Treble-boy say as she walks up beside Beca. 

Beca makes a face. “Yeah, no, dude. I don’t see that happening.”

“How do you know if you don’t give me a chance?” The Treble-maker pouts, wobbling a little, clearly on his way to drunk. 

Aubrey chooses that moment to make herself known, looping her arm through Beca’s and shooting a glare toward the boy in front of them. “She’s not interested.” 

A frown mars the boy’s face. “Who are you? Her keeper?”

Aubrey steps in front of Beca and towers over the Treble-maker. “No, but I am her sister, and not only that, but I’m also the captain of the Barden Bellas and it’s against the rules to… fraternize with a Treble-maker.” She narrows her eyes and inches forward a little more. “And I’m pretty sure I heard her say that she isn’t interested.”

“Bree–” Beca tugs gently on Aubrey’s arm. “It’s okay. I got this.” 

Aubrey glances behind her, taking in Beca’s slight half smile and the way she gives her a soft little nod. After a moment, Aubrey nods back and steps aside, but crosses her arms and glares at the puppy-faced boy from behind Beca. 

“Listen, dude. See, it’s not going to happen, because I’m like– really gay.” 

It seems to take puppy-face a moment to process Beca’s words, but Aubrey sees the exact moment that he realizes. And if Aubrey weren’t trying to be intimidating right now, she’d laugh at how his stupid face drops in embarrassment and what she assumes disappointment. 

Beca on the other hand, seems to be holding her breath, muscles taught with tension; ready to bolt. It breaks Aubrey’s heart and she vows that if this stupid boy says something mean, she’ll punch him. Or at least give him a verbal lashing. 

But then Jesse offers up a sheepish smile. “Oh,” He scratches the back of his neck and glances away. “Shit, I must’ve come off as such an ass. I’m sorry.” Aubrey blinks. Was he–? That… that wasn’t the reaction she was expecting. 

Apparently, neither was Beca. She stands there, looking unsure of how to respond. But before either of them can even think of a good response anyway, Jesse’s smile turns bright. “We could be lesbros!” 

“Oh my god, dude.” Aubrey watches as Beca’s body relaxes slightly, her tone full of cautious amusement. “No way. We are not being that, and if you ever say that again, I’ll smack you.” 

Jesse seems unperturbed as he shakes his head. “Nope, it’s happening. We’re lesbros. I’ll be your wing-man, and you’ll be mine– it’ll be great!”

“You’re drunk.” Beca says, a small smirk creasing her lips. But Aubrey can still see the hesitation in her posture and she frowns. 

“Nah, I’m just tipsy.” He goes to take another sip of his drink and frowns. “Empty,” His frown turns into a full blown pout which Aubrey thinks looks ridiculous on him. “Time for a refill. Do either of you ladies need a drink?” 

This time Aubrey steps up. “Uh, no… but, thanks.” She tries to smile politely because this dumb treble was nice, but she still doesn’t like him. Or his stupid puppy face. Jesse shrugs and turns away, heading down toward the keg. 

Beca sighs audibly and Aubrey watches as her shoulders droop. Concern washes over Aubrey and she takes her step-sister’s elbow. “Hey, you okay?” 

“Uh– yeah, yeah. I just–” She frowns, running a shaky hand through her hair. 

“I know, I was expecting more of a scene.” Aubrey frowns at the way Beca trembles slightly. “Can I walk you back to your dorm?” Beca looks like she wants to refuse, but instead she gives a jerky nod. So Aubrey loops her arm through Beca’s a leads her away from the amphitheater. 

Beca sighs and lets her head drop against Aubrey’s shoulder. “Thanks. I think the build up of it has my anxiety really high.” She admits quietly. 

Aubrey knew that. She was– is afraid it’ll send her into an episode, but she doesn’t point that out. Instead, she wrap an arm around Beca’s waist and presses a chaste kiss to the other’s temple. “You did good.” 

Unbeknownst to the both of them, someone watches with a worried little frown on her face from her perch on one of the higher amphitheater seats. 

[transrightsjimin]

more ranting abt welfare benefits hell

sorry for whining so much abt income on here, i know it should just be easy nd solveable by applying more for jobs, but the literal issue is that i have no skills or confidence (latter is according to my friend, but the way i cant envision handling any jobs well is jst the truth??) nd still havent gotten any help from the municipality w getting consulted by someone w more knowledge on the job market nd maybe being pushed to take on shitty jobs that at least perhaps pay better than mail delivery. it’s jst so frustrating how i requested welfare benefits over 4 months ago but it only counted since 3 months ago bc they kept fucking up w the requests, promised a payback for the lost month, but didnt, i believe?? now december we got nothing nd probably also january bc our ‘income was too high‘ for the minimum.

uh i side tracked nd forgot where i was going before, but i meant to say tht HALF A YEAR AGO i also requested help w getting help w jobs but bc bureaucratic bullshit it took until DECEMBER to get the help approved. and they would get me a contact person ‘surely before christmas, don’t worry!‘ and then they didn’t and replied they hadn’t forgotten about me and will surely help soon and i’m just. so fucking anxious about this all??

my parents help me financially w cash they gave (nd some of which came from my grandmas) (nd no im not happy w that bc one of them is doing worse financially but still wants to give it away, nd the other is dead nd my uncle gave her left over money to family which feels ironic bc hes a millionaire but only gives a bit from his dead mom??) so that i can buy groceries bc me and my friend’s paychecks + welfare benefits can only cover rent + food and so not also other bills such as for healthcare that i have to make payment plans for. and even w help w groceries i still end up in the negatives, especially last month bc we ‘made too much‘ to receive something. i dont even dare to sell clothing or anything online for money bc that’d only mean ‘income from hobbies’ they could see i have and thus more reason to get stripped from this too.

and that is just the whole issue!! the municipality runs all these checks and forms and calls and appointments and documents you need to hand in, but there is NO calculation determining what you actually need. instead, based on the type of household, we were categorized as fiscal partners without children who receive the benefits together and thus we receive benefits (in the months that we do) to add it up to the ‘living minimum‘ €1500 in total. this amount does not cover our actual expenses, nor does this match inflation or how social housing has been broken down as a system and that real estate owners can increase rent prices as much as they want. there is a monthly grant that tenants could receive for renting a home, but only if it is an apartment AND below 752,33 euros per month (which is when it is considered social housing, above that it’s the ‘free market‘), and that is just virtually impossible?? but we were not once asked if we can actually pay anything and the people meant to help us w benefits just don’t fucking get flex work contracts or how our income over a certain month is received way later in the month after that. like they have a stable job and just dont fucking get that it is not designed well for us.

i think my anxiety over this issue has gotten worse ever since the news came out that a dutch woman on benefits got a €7000 fine because her mom did groceries for her and that’s considered fraud??!! she couldn’t afford food so her mom bought groceries for her but that is also considered financial compensation and thus she got this huge fine, which she probably cannot afford and the fucked up thing w fines from institutions is that they ask interest over it if you don’t pay it in time or enough of it, and give more fines and even charge fees for something like you receiving a letter and they’re just free to pull this shit bc it’s a for-profit business. and that’s how ppl end up w debt and huge loans. it’s just so infuriating nd i really dont want a fine or lose the right to benefits. even though i prob wont get it for a while bc of my friend’s job that tends to make our incomes together reach just the ‘living minimum‘. i have this bill of €250 for adhd diagnosis, then monthly bills for meds that are €76 of which i can receive most back and ‘only’ need to pay €25 from it, then theres an orthodentist bill of around €92 bc i forget this insurance company still counts from back when i was w it the first time nd orthodontist stuff gets insured up to €1000 and that amount was used up like 10 years ago nd they still count like that despite me having had a different insurer in between.

i just need a stupid fcking job nd i hate to whine abt this bc theres so many ppl in much worse situations who ‘take initiative‘ nd start looking for jobs, but AGAIN  i have no ‘basic’ skills like being able to listen and understand words well nd fast or show the right facial expressions or have good memory or dexterity or be able to answer difficult questions or focus on reading etc etc, nor do i i have an idea what job i should or could do.like i fcking need an income, moreover i need a break, im in this fcking burnout since like 2013 and in depression since at least 2004 lmfao but it’s never been recognized as bad enough by specialists bc im not suicidal, but it’s also not good to the point where i ever know if i felt ok. also just. i feel like i did use to have a bit more confidence in myself in high school but it all got sucked out of me in art college (bc horribly bigoted teachers + students and being taught that drawing well is in fact not at all important in the domestic market but rather being INNOVATIVE and NETWORKING and also COPYING is the way to success!! like not kidding, thats what teachers told us) nd by my parents (bc i became older nd didnt spontaneously do all these chores or jobs despite having no fcking clue how bc they never taught stuff). like i just dont know how ppl live comfortably w themselves and know what its like to be themselves nd not feel bad nd anxious abt everything

[tipsyylove]

real

➵ genre: zombie apocalypse au, angst, dreamies x reader

➵  warnings: language i didn’t proof read it, sorry for any mistakes.

➵ requested: no

➵ a/n: i got inspired oops. sorry for using truth or dare a lot :/. this is kinda longer than what i usually write ooops

BROADCAST: WARNING! AN INFECTIOUS OUTBREAK HAS STARTED. PLEASE DO ANYTHING YOU CAN TO MAKE SURE YOU ARE SAFE. DO NOT GO OUTSIDE. PLEASE STAY INSIDE WHILE WE TRY TO RESOLVE THIS.

shit. that’s all you could think. you have absolutely nothing and no one around you. since you moved out of your god awful parent’s house, you’ve been alone. and that was not to long ago. you’ve never reached out to anyone after high school, just wanting to be alone. you had friends, but you all eventually stopped talking. which is something you regret right now.

you had gotten up to make sure your doors and windows were locked. your house was very small, so it didn’t take long. you pulled down the blinds to your windows, and kept the lights on. you sat back down on your couch, awaiting updates from the news about the outbreak. the broadcast had been cut. it was just white noise now. something awful happened. this outbreak is spreading fast. way faster than you had expected. you aren’t really sure what to do in this situation. all you have is a couple somewhat sharp kitchen knives. no guns. no bats. no nails. nothing. you got up and grabbed the largest kitchen knife you owned. it could be helpful. you then went back to the couch and just stared at the tv, hoping something would happen. and next thing you knew, you were passed out.

»»——  ☠  ——««

you were very suddenly woken by a loud banging at your door. you’ve never held anything tighter than that kitchen knife at that moment. you peeped through the peephole to see a man standing in front of your door. he was looking at the ground, still banging. you unlocked the door and invited the man in. he was the first real person you’ve seen in a while. you never go outside unless it’s to eat. he looked a little ragged, and his clothes were only a little torn. you were just looking at him. he had a gun in his hand and he was quiet. until now.

“come with us. you’ll be safe from this, i promise.” he spoke. who’s ‘us’? is he insane? “im sorry, who’s 'us’?” you asked, puzzled. he just reached out his hand and said, “come on, it’s not safe here.” what is this guy on? “can i at least get your name?” you asked the man. “jaemin. now come on.” he was dragging you out of the door at this point. you hadn’t even turned off the tv or lights yet. not that it mattered anymore. the world is ending. and sooner than you thought it would.

»»——  ☠  ——««

when walking outside for a bit, you’ve already seen the chaos that’s rained down on you. what was once a beautiful neighborhood was now trashed. it was just you and jaemin outside walking. you hadn’t seen any real people for a while, just some people running and the occasional zombie, in which you ran from. jaemin had seemed to be leading you somewhere. he was very alert, and didn’t let anything hurt you two. you two had been walking for quite a while, before arriving at a huge house. it was all boarded up everywhere, and seemed abandoned. once you and jaemin had walked up to the door, he did some type of knock code, and some other guy opened the door after unlocking everything. the man was very tall. he had a pinkish tint to his hair, and plump lips. he let you guys in, and locked the door behind you.

this was all very sudden. you were just watching the news, and now you’re surrounded by six other men. they all had very distinct features. one very short, yet so handsome. one had a blonde undercut, which was so attractive. another had bright orange hair. the last one had his hair puffed up, forehead out. they looked like trustworthy guys. “okay, so here’s the only bystander i could find who was still inside. she’s rather quiet, which is kinda helpful.” jaemin spoke to the others. they all just kind of investigated you with their eyes. “what’s her name?” the orange haired one asked. “my name’s (y/n).” you spoke, quietly. “(y/n), this is chenle.” he said, pointing to the orange haired one. “that’s renjun.” he said, pointing to the rather short one. “that’s jisung.” pointing to the pinkish haired one. “that’s haechan.” he said, while the one with his forehead out waved. “and that’s jeno.” jaemin said, pointing to the man with the blonde undercut. jeno was quiet, and didn’t even acknowledge your existence. which is understandable, maybe he is just thinking. 

they were all very respectful towards you. they didn’t invade your space, and let you rest for a while. they were all discussing plans on what to do. they let you get some food out of the kitchen, and made sure you were comfortable. they were all so attractive in their own way. they all were just perfect. but, you were extremely exhausted from everything today. you just wanted to sleep. “hey, guys? im getting pretty tired, where should i sleep?” you asked, yawning. they all looked up at you, except for jeno, who just kept focusing on the map in front of him. “there’s two beds in the room upstairs and to the left. first room.” jaemin spoke up. you were assuming jaemin was the leader of this small group, being that he was the only one that really talked to you. “thank you guys so much. i couldn’t thank you enough.” you confessed to all of them, making your way upstairs. 

»»——  ☠  ——««

the room you were met with was surprisingly small, for how big the house was. but, that’s not something you should be complaining about. you have shelter, and you’re no longer alone. which was a good feeling. it’s been quite a while since you’ve been around people who seemed to enjoy your presence. you didn’t have any pajamas, so you just decided to lay down in your daily clothes. the bed was way more comfortable than your own. you were practically melting into it. until you were interrupted by someone stomping into the room. “holy fuck, you scared the shit out of me.” you yelled at the man. “sorry. maybe try not to take over my fucking room next time.” he spoke, clearly angry. this voice could be anyone that wasn’t jaemin. he definitely doesn’t like you, or your guts.

»»——  ☠  ——««

waking up, no one else was in the room with you. you heard someone knock on the door. yawning, you said, “come in.” jaemin walked in. he had a fully cooked breakfast for you in his hands. “jaemin, what did i do to deserve this?” you asked him, sitting up. “i just think you need a better welcoming than what you got last night. we were all planning on how to get into a safer place, and didn’t consider properly welcoming the new member of our team.” he smiled at you. “thank you, so much.” you said, smiling back at him. “we’re all gonna be downstairs. come join us whenever you want.” he smiled again, leaving you alone in the room.

you quickly ate your breakfast, excited to meet everyone properly. you didn’t bother cleaning up your appearance, so you just ran downstairs. as soon as you made it on the last step, you heard a, “hey, (y/n)’s up!” from chenle. everyone was gathered around the island in the kitchen, just talking to one another. you joined them in the circle, and just listened to them talk. everyone looked a bit messier now, everyone’s hair less done than it was yesterday. “i think we need to go to the supermarket to get some food. we have seven people now, we won’t make it very long if we don’t.” haechan said. everyone nodded in approval. “how would we get there, though. we don’t have a car. a couple of us would have to go on foot, and try to make it back alive.” jisung spoke. another group nod of approval. “i’ll go.” jeno spoke. that’s when it hit you. the voice from last night. the one that hated your guts. “me too.” haechan said. “count me in.” renjun said, raising his hand. “anyone else want to go?” jaemin asked, looking at jisung, chenle, and you. “nope.” we all said, in unison. “okay, haechan, jeno, and renjun. be careful out there. we wish you the best of luck. bring everything you need. don’t forget the walkie talkies.” jaemin commanded. it was amazing how prepared these guys were for this. they had all the materials that they needed, and always had plans for different things.

»»——  ☠  ——««

now it was just you, jaemin, chenle, and jisung. you guys were all children on the inside, so you played truth or dare. you gotta have some type of fun during the apocalypse, right? “jaemin, truth or dare?” chenle asked the supposed leader. “truth.” he said. “hmmmm, what’s your biggest fear?” chenle asked, hesitating a bit. “definitely losing you guys, you’re all i have.” jaemin confessed. it was quiet for a few seconds, before jaemin said, “(y/n), truth or dare?” you weren’t expecting to get asked. but, here you are. you’re a coward, so you said, “truth.” it took jaemin a while to think. “do you feel safe with us?” he asked. before you could answer, jaemin’s walkie talkie started to go bonkers. “what do you want us to get, exactly? we’re not sure at all what we should get.” renjun spoke through the walkie. jaemin picked his walkie up. “just grab anything you can. we’ll eat what you get, it doesn’t really matter.” jaemin told the other man. “okay, thank you. see you guys soon.” renjun’s soothing voice said, turning off his walkie, making jaemin’s go static. “okay, anyways. do you?” jaemin looked at you, along with the other two. “y-yeah. i do. i feel a lot safer here than i did at my house. again, thank you.” you said, smiling at all of them. “i’m bored.” you heard chenle speak up. “let’s make a fort!” you suggested. “yeah!” jisung jumped up in excitement.

»»——  ☠  ——««

the fort you guys had made wasn’t the best thing. it had it’s perks, but you were all enjoying a game of uno inside. you guys were laughing a lot. and you were pretty sure that you were gaining a better friendship already. they were all very fun and outgoing people. you liked this side of them. the fun sides of people are always better. you get along with them very well, and you’re glad that they found you. you would be dead now if it weren’t for them. you owe your life to them.  your uno game was suddenly interrupted by a very strategic knock at your door. jaemin quickly got up and let the other men in. they had very large bags full of food from what you could see from the fort. “god, are you guys five?” you heard jeno say, scoffing after. no one responded, but the mood in the room went down. it was no longer a happy mood. chenle and jisung were no longer smiling, along with yourself. you all got out of the fort and started to take it down. “hey, what are you doing? don’t let jeno influence your mood.” you heard renjun speak from the kitchen. but, it was taking up a lot of space in the living room, so you decided to take it down, explaining to renjun why.

it’s been a couple minutes since you had taken down your fort. the house was silent. “hey, jeno. what the fuck is your deal? why are you such an asshole recently?” you heard jaemin ask him broadly. “i have no idea what you’re talking about. am i not allowed to speak my opinion?” jeno stated loudly, but not quite yelling. “well, yeah. you’re allowed an opinion. but does it always have to be in such a nasty tone?” jaemin confronted the blonde man. jeno never responded. he just remained quiet, continuing to put the food away. 

»»——  ☠  ——««

the guys getting food took longer than you had expected. it was now night time. and it was fairly dark outside. and rather quiet outside. everyone gradually made their way to the food, all eating what they needed, but not too much. the three that went out for food earlier seemed pretty exhausted. jaemin was rather quiet, as well. which was pretty unusual. you were scared to talk about anything, afraid to be attacked by jeno. he seemed to be extremely aggressive. at least when he talked. which was rare. 

you started to make your way upstairs, and started to get comfy in your so called bed. it was another quiet night until you heard footsteps coming up. you were already prepared for what was about to come. you just knew that jeno didn’t like you invading his space, and probably wishes you were dead. he remained quiet, just laying down in his bed. that’s when you drifted to sleep.

»»——  ☠  ——««

it wasn’t long until you were awoken by some yelling. which was probably a bad idea, since the undead was probably attracted to sound and followed it. it sound like jaemin and someone else. you couldn’t quite point out who, though. you made your way to the door and slightly opened it, trying not to awaken jeno. you walked a couple steps down, and listened to the conversation. “we can’t just put her out on the street! that’s fucked!” you heard jaemin yell. “well she’s an issue! she never does anything and she’s always quiet!” you heard the other man yell. “i don’t care that you don’t like her, jeno! she’s apart of us now! she’s been here for two days. she might be scared to do anything!” jaemin was yelping at this point. “what if she never does anything, jaemin?!? she could be completely useless to us!” jeno boomed. “we could at least give her a chance!” jaemin yelled, ending the conversation. you heard someone start to come closer in your direction. you practically ran to your bed, and faked being asleep. you heard jeno walk in and he was swearing under his breath. he plopped down and you heard extremely aggressive breathing. you drifted to sleep after.

»»——  ☠  ——««

you woke up and made your way downstairs to see what everyone was doing. everything was quiet, once again, and you heard jaemin say “we have to go.”

part one | part two