#they just Don't Get It. i can't explain with words how much they Don't Get It

[postracehair]

trust me

max verstappen x reader | 2.3k

after an incredible (and wet) weekend in brazil, you have a confession to make.

cw: a loving relationship! discussion of anxiety/fear/worrying about your race car driver bf, healthy communication, and softness galore.

a/n: being a wag must be so stressful. like, damn! also, rain races stress me out, personally. this fic is about that.

__

The triple header comes to an end in the best way possible.

Max Verstappen wins the São Paulo Grand Prix from a 17th-place start! It's the stuff of dreams. The fist around your heart unclenches just a little bit as you watch him smiling, roaring, hoisting his well-earned trophy aloft. It's your best day in a long time, watching your darling boyfriend like that, and you celebrate with everyone late into the night. The Championship battle looms in the background but tonight is about the hard work from the weekend. The stress, the frustration, the damn rain. All of it worth it for the pride you all feel right now.

But what comes after -- that, you can admit, you enjoy even more. Three weeks until Las Vegas and Max and the team have plenty of work to do before then, but for now? For now, it's this: rest.

Everyone gets to go home, finally. And for you, home is wherever Max is. You've spent the first few days of the break thus far at his place. On the floor with the cats, on the couch watching movies. In his bed, sleeping, sometimes, other times... not so much. Hours and hours just being together. You'll have plenty of time for this once the season ends but you can never get enough of him.

You're on the couch, sprawled across the length of it with a book in hand. It's a good one, so much so that you don't notice Max until he taps your ankle and you jump.

"Jesus," you gasp. His lips are pulled up at one corner in the precursor to a full grin, sweatpants slung low enough that you can see the branded band of his underwear between the drawstrings and the hem of his t-shirt. "Where did you come from?"

"Watching race replays," he says with a shrug. "Scooch." You tug your legs back and sit up a little, bookmarking your page as he rounds the couch and plops down where your feet were.

"Max," you whine. "I like to watch those, too. So you can do that thing where you narrate like, every second." You're teasing, but only a little. For all the jokes about "maxplaining," you really do love how he explains things. He tells you what he was thinking at every turn, what the trick is, how long it took him to get it right. He points out his mistakes and those of the other drivers. All of it thoroughly and with enthusiasm, answering your questions like you're the best student he's ever had.

"Yeah, well," he says, sinking into the couch, arm stretched across the cushions towards you. Your eyes rake over the line of his bicep as he talks. "You don't like rain races very much. Wasn't sure you'd want to see it again."

That gets your attention. "How did you know that?" You've never told him outright that they stress you out. It's really important to you that you keep your cool at the track, that you don't do anything to let on that he should worry about you.

But you should know better, it seems.

"I can tell," Max says, looking right at you. "I pay attention."

You hum, not sure what to say. "You've got me there," you confess. "I'm sorry."

"Hey," he tuts. "Why the apology? You can feel however you want to. This weekend was complicated."

He feels too far away. You set your book on the ground and shove your toes under this thigh. He keeps his eyes on your face but you fuss with the hem of your t-shirt rather than look back.

"They're exciting. Rain races, I mean." You sigh. "But I can't help but worry, Max. From the garage, it's so --"

You lose track of your words because Max grabs hold of your legs and tugs them over his thighs as he moves closer to you, almost crowding you against the arm of the couch. He reaches for your collarbone to pick some lint from your shirt, his other arm slung across your calves.

"Were you scared?" he asks. "This weekend, I mean."

Frankly, you avoid telling him things like this because you don't want to distract him. You don't want to detract from his performance in any way and maybe that's selfish, because you know he's very good at what he does and how you feel isn't going to derail his weekend. But you know he loves you, and you know how deeply he feels things. How much he wants to be a good partner, a good driver, a good man. And you try really hard to let him know that he is all of those things.

The reality of your position in his life is that there will always be people who heavily imply that your presence, your actions, your choices could be at fault. It's ludicrous -- Max has said so many times -- but it makes you hype-aware. You don't want to overstep. It's something you know you should articulate to him properly, but you know he'll be upset that you think you can be anything but a good part of his life. It's an endless cycle.

"Hey," he says, mistaking your silence for emotion. "Liefje, I'm fine." He reaches for you, cupping your cheek with a warm hand. You look up at him and find him frowning.

"I know," you say, leaning into his palm. "I know you are. I just -- I don't want it to sound like I'm a whining baby or something."

"Whining baby?" Max gently rubs the skin under your eye with his thumb. "Psh. We've got some of those on track. You couldn't come close to them if you tried."

That gets a laugh out of you and he cracks a smile at the small victory.

You sigh. "I was scared," you admit, voice soft. Max presses a little closer to you, his hand falling from your face to catch yours, fingers twining together.

"Are you always scared?" he asks. "You're more tense on rain weekends, I can tell that much. But you've never really talked about this. I guess I--" He frowns again. "I've never really asked you."

"That's okay," you say. "It's nothing, really."

Blue eyes bore into yours. "No, I want to know," he presses. "Please, tell me?"

You tip your head back a little, eyes on the ceiling. How to say it?

"I guess I'm always a little scared, yeah," you say. "I don't know how I wouldn't be."

He tugs on your hand so you'll look at him. "What is it, do you think?" The question comes out in his typical way. This must be how he is in driver briefings, you think fleetingly. Max is analytical, methodical, always looking for the root of the problem so he can understand it and adapt.

But how do you explain this?

"Well, it's a dangerous sport," you explain. "As you know. And I -- Max, I love you, and I don't want anything bad to happen to you."

The furrow of his brow lessens a bit and he presses a light kiss to the back of your hand. Your stomach flutters, even after all this time.

But Max has no time for your mooning, apparently. "Were you scared before we knew each other?" he asks.

You think about it. "It's different, I guess. I was worried, generally. For all of you. I'm still worried for all of you, but --"

His eyebrow quirks and he fails to hide a cheeky smile. "Me the most?"

You roll your eyes and squeeze his hand. "You the most. But don't tell Carlos that."

Max tuts. "So, now it's just worse? You feel it more?"

Nodding, you try to explain. "I don't even like watching on TV, now, because I'm so far away. I feel so helpless."

You can't make it to every race but you try your hardest, not only to support Max but for your own sanity. It's easier to calm yourself down when you're around other people who believe in him, when you have access to all the details and when he's only a few steps away when he's out of the car.

"I don't want you to be worried," he says, softly. "You don't let on that you are when we say goodbye before the race, aside from being a little tense."

One of your favorite pieces of race weekends -- those few moments when all of his attention is on you. He makes sure you have everything you need and leaves you with a kiss and a smile and a see you later. His confidence and his competence are like balms.

"When I'm looking at you, I'm not as stressed," you say, a bit shy. "You're very good at your job, you know. And your confidence is convincing."

"I know," he says, seriously. "That's why I know it'll be fine. Do you not know that?"

If he was less determined, you'd ask him to drop it, since you're starting to feel embarrassed. But you know he won't let it lie.

"I know it, too, Max." You reach for his face to push back some fringe from his forehead. "I'll always be worried about you, though. You get in the car and drive away and I just -- sit there. And wait for you to come back."

He frowns, deeper this time. You keep your hand on him, cupping his jaw and running your thumb along his stubble.

"And I love it. You know I was a fan before I met you and it's a dream to be there to watch you race. I love seeing you do crazy things like win from p17. It's so much fun."

He knows this about you. You've got a bit of a reputation for your facial expressions in the Red Bull garage, always the first on your feet when he overtakes, jumping up and down when he extends his lead. It's an infectious kind of joy and energy and you lean into it every time, even if your stomach is churning with anxiety.

Max is quiet for a few moments. He covers your hand with his and leans into it further.

"You trust me, right?"

"Of course," you say right away. "Always."

"I've never really thought about it," he says, slowly. "I mean, in the car. I don't worry about you because I'm not worried, so I just thought you knew not to be, too."

"I'll always worry, Max. Even though I trust you."

"Why didn't you tell me this before?"

Your cheeks heat and you look away from him, pulling your hand free to cradle it in your lap.

"You've got a million other things to worry about besides me," you say. "I don't want to distract you."

Max says your name with a scoff, literally waving his hand as if swatting away your silly notions. "Distract me? Come on," he says. "I wouldn't be a three-time world champion if I could get so easily distracted." He leans into your space, nosing at your jaw. "Even if you are very distracting."

You allow the attention for a few moments before pushing him back with a laugh. His cheeks are flushed, hair a bit of a mess, like after he takes off his helmet. And, god, he looks relaxed. You're so proud of him you can hardly stand it. The season is almost over and you know he's got a lot of work ahead of him, and you've got a lot of worrying. But he's motivated, and you know he can win. You know he'll come back to you.

Max leans his head back on the couch and casts his gaze sideways at you, nose scrunched. "I can't fix this, can I? You're still going to worry."

He sounds so resigned, so disappointed in himself that you tug on his hand so he'll get closer. This time, you frame his face with your hands and kiss him, just a light press of your lips to his. Both of you sigh into it, and you drag your mouth along his cheek until you reach his ear.

"I'm still going to worry," you whisper. "But I love you and I trust you. And I know it'll be okay."

Max sighs and presses his forehead to your shoulder, practically pulling you into his lap so he can wrap his arms around you.

"You better hope it doesn't rain for the rest of the season," he mumbles.

"That damn VSC," you groan, pulling back from him a bit. "I was going to tear my hair out!"

Max laughs. "It kept things interesting," he says lightly. "Rain isn't really a problem for me, schatje, you know this --"

"Because you're Dutch, I know, Max." You roll your eyes. "Even Fernando couldn't keep it together! I mean, the gasps from the garage when --"

The seriousness of your conversation fades as you trade tidbits about the race -- you've done this already, hashed it out in the hotel room and the flight home and in bed since Sunday. Max watches you talk, elbow braced on the couch and his head resting in his hand. His eyes sparkle and you know you're amusing him as he corrects you on the turn names and who went in the wall when. Max loves you: you've never doubted this. He loves you and he cares about how you feel and doesn't want you to be worried.

And while you will be, because you love him, you know that it'll be alright.

"Hey," Max says, interrupting your opinions about start procedures. "I love you, okay? Thank you for worrying about me."

"Graag gedaan," you say. Well, you try to say. Max laughs and corrects your pronunciation. You're welcome, he says, over and over, a kiss to your cheeks, your nose, your forehead each time. Ik houd van je. Your lips, your neck, your jaw.

I love you. I love you. I love you.

[kinardsevan]

i wrote a whole ass psychology breakdown (for the first time in FOREVER) about the break-up. enjoy (if you so choose):

so I've been reading a lot in relation to Tommy's speech during the break-up (and have actually gotten through the scene several times now, mostly as a creative reference for these fix-it fics. I think one of the first things that I've seen completely tossed aside (that bothers the shit out of me as someone with over a decade of therapy treatment and a psychology degree) is whatever trauma Tommy carries.

We know that there are issues with his dad. We know Lou's lore behind him is that he spent a lot of his childhood alone. We don't know anything in relation to his mom, but she may or may not be the cause of more trauma. We know that his way of dealing with abuse of authority is to shut down and follow the leader, which is likely a mix of his military time and growing up in his father's household (and when I say this, I mean from what we saw of him under Gerrard's command). This is a person who has put years into getting himself into some version of okay after all that he's endured, and we know he still generally does it on his own.

To that end, here, have my breakdown of the break up (roughly right about the time Buck says "I want you to move in with me"). (with pictures!)

Prior to the offer, we watch Tommy process through Evan's explanation about his relationship with Abby, things being transformative for him, etc. We have to bare in mind that this is where we also start to get what I've dubbed "starry-eyed Buck". He's so in the throes of what he's saying that I don't think he's really considering the connotation of his words. At the same time, Tommy doesn't know what lore Evan is about to drop him about this prior relationship. Remember that he now has to contend with the fact that they both have strong opinions on their relations toward Abby, and Tommy can't know if their feelings toward her as a person will be the same. I think Lou played this beautifully, appearing anxious and apprehensive as Tommy listened to Evan explain that Abby was transformative for him. Then he shifts into how Tommy has been transformative for him (which, he has, and we as the audience know this, but we understand it from a bigger POV than what Evan is saying with his words.)

There have been posts about Evan putting Tommy up on a pedestal throughout this speech (and really, possibly even sooner, but this is where we really get it expressed). Tommy tries to rectify this to a degree by countering "I wasn't always that way".

To that end, we then get Evan telling him "I know, and it just makes me admire you more." Tommy gives a bashful smile, clearly heartened by the statement, and even opening his mouth as though he's going to respond to it in some form. It would be interesting to know what was on Lou's mind of what (if anything) he thought would've been said there. Are there lines that were removed in this scene? Was 'I love you' actually going to come up? We can't really know. However, there's this part of me that thinks that Tommy thought that they were having a discussion on the depth of their relationship which would've possibly brought those 7 letters to the equation. Either way, this entire bit of facial acting is SO important, because it speaks volumes about how Tommy feels about how Evan feels about him.

From there we get the "I want you to move in with me, and this, THIS, THIS is such an important point for this ENTIRE scene. It's two seconds, but it holds SO much for the narrative. This man, who seems to be on the verge of ...something, clearly (who knows if I Love You was on his mind, or if it was just the fact that Evan was expressing how much he cares about him.) The reason this is all so important is THIS REACTION:

Now again, we don't know Tommy's trauma, but the joy literally drops out of his expression and shifts to panic. Now, speaking solely from the standpoint that these two haven't even said "I love you" yet, his boyfriend steamrolled over him from a possible declaration of love straight to moving in together without discussing semantics. Further, it's not even "I want to live together", it's "move in with me". We don't know much about Tommy's house (because these shitheads haven't built him a set yet), but we know that he has a HOUSE. With a GARAGE. Buck lives in a LOFT. Regardless of how much of an asshole this makes me sound like, it's crawling with red flags. It comes across as "fit more into my life" instead of "lets do this thing together". Further, if that's not bad enough, mention of getting engaged and married is thrown at Tommy as well, which holds two major bits of information: One, these are on Evan's mind. We've NEVER heard him talk about getting engaged or married to anyone. This speaks to the importance of their relationship to him, but the lack of I Love You also speaks on his own trauma. If we truly are getting the rom-com trope, at some point there's likely to be a conversation about why he lept over it (*cough* Taylor, his parents *cough cough*). Meanwhile, as he's continued in his starry-eyed speech, this is what Tommy is giving:

Now for those who don't know how to spot it, this my friends is a PANIC RESPONSE. The shift forward, the move to get up, the literal deep breath. He's having a panic attack. Now, obviously we don't know what brought this on, but god-willing, we WILL get the answers.

Now, to his own point, Tommy doesn't just straight up pop Evan's pink bubble. He does express that it's a sweet sentiment, but that it's a bad idea. To which point we get:

"Evan, that is so sweet. But I can't move in with you." "And why not?" Because. I know how this ends." "Uh, what-what's that supposed to mean?"

At which point, we clearly get the qualities about Evan that Tommy likes. "Incredible guy. Big-hearted. Hot as hell. Impulsive." I don't feel that the expression here matters as much as his tone of voice, because we can see on his face that he's expressing these qualities from a good place. The next point of reference isn't until Tommy's next line, when he says that Evan's reaction is out of things being "new and exciting".

To that end, the way Evan is talking to him makes this statement valid. He's not talking to Tommy like they've been together for six months and have built a relationship that should be moving in this direction. (For the tenth time I will repeat, he couldn't even dignify whether he was in love with Tommy when Josh asked).

Furthermore, I think when you consider this part of the scene, you also have to consider the strain in Tommy's voice. Something about those concepts (living together, getting engaged, married) is terrifying. It definitely gives the impression that Tommy has been faced with some version of this before and he got burned. Why is this important? Because of this:

"I'm saying no matter how bad I want it to be, I'm not your last." Those 9 words are important on their own, but when you couple them with the expression on Tommy's face and what we've just seen him go through, there's a clear point to the fact that he's been through this before. I also think that there can't be enough importance placed on the way he intonates "how bad". This is not a man saying no because he doesn't want to. He's backpedaling because he's sure that he's going to get burned. We get this point further driven home with this exchange:

"I'm your first." "But hey, they can be the same thing." "But, they usually aren't."

See this doesn't read to me as someone who's scared because he knows Evan has never been with another man. They're both fully grown adults who have had multiple relationships. What this speaks to me (now) as, is someone who has let someone convince him before that he would be their forever, that they were all in, and then broke him. When you include his childhood trauma and whatever abandonment issues it's left him with in correlation with all of this, yes, it's still an extremely biphobic set of lines. But in the context of what he's expressing and why, it's not about telling Evan he needs more experience, it's about telling him that he doesn't believe that he'll want to stay settled down with him six months, a year, etc., down the road. And THAT my friends, is abandonment issues 101. "Everyone else has left, so it doesn't matter that I'm in love with you, because you will leave too, and I need to protect myself from that."

Following that, we get this: "if I were to move in with you, you wouldn't mean to, you wouldn't plan for it, but you'd end up breaking my heart."

This line is SO important, right next to Evan's exchange with Josh about his relationship with Tommy. Why? Because even though neither of them have said it, it spells out that these two are in fact in love with each other, even if they haven't said it.

"I don't think I could deal with that." Tommy is fucking GONE on him. He's expressing that if he gave himself fully over to what Evan's referring to, losing him would break him. Again, we don't have the full picture on his trauma, but we know there's a mountain there. It's also worth noting again, that the intonation he uses in these statements clearly come across as someone trying to reign in their emotions and keep it together. That says to me that we're dangeously close to touching his trauma.

I don't feel like I have to include the final few bits of the scene in gifs because they're all over the site now, but the next line gives over the fact that he hasn't really been open about his trauma to Evan, given that his immediate response to expressing all of this is "I should go". This kind of reaction is generally brought on as not being accepted for having certain feelings. Now, obviously Evan is caught off guard by the entire interaction, the same way Tommy was (but for different reasons), so we have to take all of that into account when we think about the fact that instead of countering Tommy's logic, he asks instead if Tommy is breaking up with him.

Body language is also so important here for Tommy. His shoulders are hunched in, we see him wipe his face (meaning there are likely tears), and when he turns around, he's so caught up in whatever wave has taken him over that it takes Evan asking him for Tommy to state "yeah, I guess I did" about breaking up. Further, there's the fact that he states that he didn't see the break-up coming, which goes back to my point at the top of this post, that he clearly thought the conversation was going one direction, and instead it goes the other. From this point, we have Evan reeling, because he wants to create more of a life with Tommy, while Tommy is shutting down because of whatever is holding him back.

Finally, as I've referenced before, we get this line:

"Should've known that parking spot was too good to be true."

That line makes zero sense out of context, but in consideration of someone trying to lighten the weight they're carrying (which you can literally see by the way he has his hand on his neck, which you generally only see people do as a stress response). You can also double entendre this statement that getting to be with Evan was too good to be true. We get that little inhale with the smile, and I swear to God the only time I've seen that kind of reaction is right before someone cracks.

And then in closing, we get the "I'll see you 'round, Buck," our closing gut punch. Evan is still reeling, clearly. His face is very "what the hell just happened". Tommy is clearly not okay. This entire scene has opened an entire can of worms on them without a whole lot of answers.

Now, I've owned the fact that basically from the end of 806, I felt like this had to be a swerve, and that there has to be more to the story. I've also pretty much owned the fact that if the writers did actually just do this for kicks and don't have a resolution for it, I may not keep watching. However, in the context of the fact that, for the moment, I'm choosing to put hope in some kind of resolution, these lines make so much more sense. It is worth noting though, most people in the fandom, let alone the general audience, aren't going to psychologically break this shit down line-by-line. They're not going to lean into whatever trauma Tommy has that we don't know about yet. Its why the internet has been a mess since Thursday night. But it's also why I talk about how, when this situation gets resolved (because right now I refuse to say if), Buck has to give up the loft and give more of himself. Tommy, by the nature of the show, has fully immersed himself in Evan's life, but we haven't seen or heard mention of Evan doing so at all in Tommy's life. That doesn't mean he hasn't, but we haven't gotten any version of that. So when I say Evan needs to give things up... it's about matching what he's asking Tommy to give up. Because at the end of the day, when this circles back around, he's effectively going to be asking Tommy to trust that he won't break his heart like others have, and when you have a lifetime of abandonment issues and have learned to cope by being hyper-independent and alone, moving in the opposite direction is more terrifying than anything else. ESPECIALLY when you love that person, which we saw Tommy spell out. Evan has the ability to break him (and probably already is via this cut-off-at-the-quick break up.)

So, I'm really gonna need these shit heads to figure out that they'll be more miserable apart than they'd ever be together.

That's all. Thanks for coming to my TED talk.

[thezombieprostitute]

What's Mine

Summary: Bucky pushes you too far and decides to explain how your situation works. Or doesn't.

Word Count: ~2.3 k

Warnings: Dark Fic, Implied dub/non con, Power imbalance. Please let me know if I missed any.

Previous Part

It's been a few months since Bucky "claimed" you. He followed up on his promises of taking care of you. You frequently woke up to some surprise gift or another. One day it was a fully stocked kitchen. Another day it was the leak in the bathroom sink getting fixed. More than a few times it's been jewelry with his initials on it.

And all it cost was letting him use you. You swear a piece of your soul dies every time he makes you cum. Every time he coats you in his semen. Every time you match his fervor. It might not be so bad if he didn't gloat every time. That damn smirk haunted your dreams. Or was it nightmares? What was the difference anymore?

It had definitely affected your standing in the community. People were scared to interact with you. Fewer parents brought their kids to the library when you were there. Ruth and her friends had no problems calling you all sorts of degrading things under their breath. You definitely caught them giving you the evil eye more than a few times.

Part of you suspected that if you'd quit trying to fight him he'd lose interest. He liked when you were in a fiery mood. If you could just give in, give up, he'd likely stop using you. But you couldn't help yourself. You hated him. You hated yourself for enjoying the pleasure he gave. That hate needed an outlet.

You pull into your driveway, no longer surprised to see Bucky's bike there as well. You sigh, wondering if you can talk him into to leaving. You're exhausted. Walking into the house you don't even have a chance to take your jacket off before Bucky is on you.

"Bucky, please no. I'm just too tired."

He chuckles, "don't worry. I'm just really happy to see you. We're going out tonight."

You sigh, "I'd rather stay in."

"Then that means you have the energy for me all night."

"Ugh, fine. Where are we going?"

"I've got you an appointment at the tattoo parlor."

"WHAT?! I hate tattoos! I can't get any!"

He smiles as he growls at you, "you're going to get a tattoo just for me. No one else is going to be able to see it, but we'll know it's there."

"Isn't the jewelry enough of your 'ownership'? You even got me a brooch for my cardigans with your initials!"

Bucky licks his lips, "it was just the beginning, Doll. So far everything I've done to mark you are things that can wash away or heal up. This is the next step."

"I refuse," you declare, crossing your arms.

"Fuck, Doll, you're getting me riled up." He puts his arms on each side of your head, boxing you in against the wall. "And you're getting that damn tattoo. We can either go now, while you're still cleaned up, or after I've fucked your brains out and you're a cum covered mess."

"Fine," you drop your head. "Let's go to the tattoo parlor."

"Not yet." He grabs you chin and makes your look at him. "You need to thank me, first, Doll."

Bile rises at the back of your throat. "Thank you for letting me preserve my dignity."

He laughs. "Give me another," he taunts, using the same voice as when he's telling you to give him another orgasm. You hate yourself for the involuntarily clench your pussy does.

"Thank you, Bucky, for...for introducing me to Bunny. It is nice to have a friend." A friend who understands how fucked you both are, you think.

That gets a more sincere smile on his face. "It is important to me that you know my best friend and his girl. I'm glad you're good to them. Bunny is gonna need you when she's pregnant."

"What are friends for," you dryly reply.

"That's my good girl, Doll."

The tattoo is pretty much what you expected. His initials, right over your heart. If you wore anything low cut, it would be obvious. You were sure that was the point: can't even show a hint of skin without reminding everyone who it actually belongs to. At least it wouldn't be a problem at work, given you always dress conservatively.

By the time you're home Bucky is practically salivating at the memory of the tattoo on your chest. He might be eager to see this permanent mark of his claim on you but at least he's willing to follow instructions for proper care so it doesn't scar or make you sick. You made sure to thank him for that, knowing he likes to hear it, and he reiterates, "I take care of what's mine."

"Any chance I can just get some sleep tonight? I wasn't lying when I said I was tired."

"I'm all worked up, Doll."

"I thought you take care of what's yours," you snap back. "How is keeping me awake, not letting get good sleep, taking care of me?"

He grips your chin and gives you a thoughtful look. "I suppose you're right," he admits. "Even a vibrator's batteries gotta recharge every so often, right?" You roll your eyes and he grins. "But I'm going to hold you all night and when you wake up, it's on. I know you don't work tomorrow."

"Is that why you helped with my budget? So I'd have more free time to be your personal toy?" You can't fight the fire in your voice. You're tired, yes. Tired of being so angry all the time.

"Aww, you admit you're mine," he teases.

Unable to hold back any longer you smack his face. "I have never been so angry or tired as I have been since you showed up. You want to take care of me? You want me to be yours? Treat me like a fucking person!" Tears are pouring out of your eyes, the stress and frustration of the months finally finding a kind of release.

Bucky glowers at you and grabs your throat with his metal arm. "You shouldn't have done that, Doll."

"I don't care anymore," you croak.

That seems to catch him off guard as his hand loosens and his face softens.

"Oh, Doll," he shakes his head. "You really should've said something sooner." You squeeze your eyes shut as more tears start falling. He removes his hand from your throat and brings you in for a hug, causing you to cry even more. He pats your hair and coos, "there, there," until you can't cry any more.

"Let's get you to bed," he says quietly.

"I...I don't...I don't understand."

He gently lifts your chin, "you know, before Bunny ran, I tried to warn Steve he was being too controlling. That she was going to bolt. He didn't listen and, sure enough, she escaped. Wouldn't surprise me if she continued to try because he hasn't learned to loosen his grip. I don't plan on repeating his mistakes. Yes, you're mine and you'll never be rid of me. But that doesn't mean I can't be benevolent."

You sniffle as your brain tries to comprehend the sudden change in his demeanor.

"Now lets make sure that tattoo is properly cared for," he says with a soft kiss to your forehead.

"I...I hit you," you stammer.

"You're over-stressed and tired," he shrugs. "If I thought you were doing it just because you wanted to hurt me, yes, there would be repercussions. But I've apparently been overworking my poor Doll, so I'll forgive that one smack." His tone at that last part implies any more attempts to lash out at him will be punished.

"Thank you, Bucky," you murmur as you hang your head.

"Mmmm. That's more like it. Now let's get you to bed and tomorrow we'll work on your communication skills."

You wake up feeling like you're hungover without having had any alcohol. The delicious smells of breakfast lure you out of the bed, even though you dread meeting the cook.

Bucky's shirtless and smiling as he works. If you were in anything close to a healthy relationship you'd smile at how happy he is. Instead you keep your head down, trying not to think about that metal hand wrapped around your neck. About how those muscles feel pressed against your back, or on top of you.

He sees you and gestures for you to sit at the table. He brings you a plate of breakfast, a mug of coffee and kisses the top of your head before sitting across from you. You don't eat right away like he does, lost in your confusion about this change in behavior.

"Eat, Doll," he orders. "I didn't stock your kitchen and cook this up just for you to let it go cold."

"What is going on?" your voice is barely above a whisper.

"I'm taking care of my girl," he answers, nonchalantly. You look at him like you've never seen him before and he sighs. "Eat, or I will force it down your throat."

You grab a slice of the toast and start chewing. "Thank you, Bucky," you grumble and he nods in his approval.

"One of the differences between me and Cap is that I know I'm a monster," he tells you between bites. "He likes to think we've done all of this to keep his girl safe and give her the life she always wanted. I know better. But we've been best friends since we were kids. Ride or die, you know? So I'm always going to have his back. I've just made peace with the fact that it means ruining lives."

"You never tried to talk him out of it? Out of taking over an entire town?"

He shakes his head. "Steve's the kind of guy who can never be talked or distracted from his goal. One of the things I find endearing about him."

"So, he gets you all to take over everything here and you, what? Enjoy the spoils?" Feeling the bile rise at the back of your throat, you go for another slice of toast to try to settle your stomach while keeping Bucky happy.

"It's a balance," he grins. "We take over and just start doing whatever the hell we want, a lot of people are going to die trying to get rid of us. So we set up some rules for our men. People will remain upset, of course, but they're less likely to 'rise up' so long as we have a level of restraint. It's, honestly, the biggest part of my job as Cap's second."

You think on this for a minute, mindlessly eating. "I get why the town, but why me?"

He shrugs, "I needed the stress relief. It ain't easy keeping a crew in line and I was initially just hoping for a quiet spot to read to calm down. Then I started watching you. Saw you expertly handle all kinds of difficulties. When you snapped at me, I figured, like me, you could use some stress relief."

"Stress relief?!" He gives you a look that has you clamming up.

"And fuck you were so good," he muses. "That first photo is still the background on my phone." Heat rushes to your face. "I decided to go ahead and keep you as mine. You're not only a good fuck, but you were quick to befriend Bunny. Everyone else who sees her with Cap has decided to avoid her. Something I know you've been experiencing, even though you haven't told me." You look down, unable to say anything. "I honestly thought you liked the rough treatment and was happy to give it, but I'm guessing we hit a limit for you."

"You branded me," you snarl.

"No, I got you a tattoo. Branding is something else and would've hurt you a lot more." His tone is stern and you return your attention to your food. "You've played a critical role in helping me keep things under control. Plus, since you're my girl, you get some privileges and protections. You think Steve would've beaten up Walker for some random librarian? No. But for his best friend's girl? That's another story."

"So, you're just going to keep using me?"

"Yes," he nods. "And now that I know more about your limits, I'm less likely to get stabbed in my sleep."

You look at him, aghast, "that's why you never stayed the night before?"

Bucky chuckles, "so smart. I love it. And now that you have more information, hopefully you're smart enough to put the rest of the pieces together."

"If I hurt you, Steve drops everything to find and kill me. Probably painfully." He nods. "If I make you angry, you're likely to take it out on someone who doesn't deserve it or you lose control of your men for long enough that they hurt someone who doesn't deserve it." He nods again, smiling at you. "And if I stop playing along like everything is okay, it's another sign to the townsfolk that might set them over the edge and have them shooting, getting hurt, or worse."

Bucky finishes his breakfast, nodding at your conclusions. "God, I love that you're so smart. Makes a lot of this so much easier." You start sniffling and he reaches across the table to gently grip your chin. "I get that this is a lot to take in, Doll. But I know you'll make the right decision. If you really didn't care about this town, you'd have left when you only had a skeleton budget. You're willing to work yourself to the bone to take care of these people, you're willing to be mine to keep them safe."

"I can't say 'no'," you whimper.

"But it doesn't have to be all bad. Remember, I take care of what's mine."

Previous Part

Tagging: @alicedopey; @delicatebarness; @icefrozendeadlyqueen; @lokislady82; @ronearoundblindly

[moonlight-prose]

RIGHT WHERE YOU LEFT ME

➛ 08. LOSING DOGS

a/n: i can't really explain why i took so long with this chapter. possibly because of how much i don't want this series to end and we're so close. but also it's just been hard to find the inspo as of late. but thanks to a movie day with @soulores where we yearned and screamed and laughed over this man, and well me rewatching the deadpool movies 1 & 2 for wade inspo i managed to finish this. it's been a ride delving into their angst and i hope you enjoy! we're one more chapter away from the ending and from this man's happy ending.

summary: time spent apart gives logan a chance to grieve - to mourn the family he lost. it gives you the opportunity to come to terms with what loving the wolverine means. the consequences that come with the choice of betting on someone like him. after all, he's not a violent dog...he just tends to bite harder than necessary.

word count: 7k+

pairing: logan howlett x f!reader

warnings: not explicit, angst, grief, dual pov chapter sorta, wade wilson breaking the fourth wall, wade wilson therapist, laura kinney is here to stay everyone, crying, pain, emotional turmoil, ptsd, time.

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You don't sleep anymore.

This wasn't due to a lack of exhaustion—you were always tired—you simply couldn't bear to withstand the dreams longer than necessary. They filled your head with their brutality. Ripped apart your psyche in such a short time frame, only to leave you split open and bleeding for the buzzards and vultures to pick at. You were surprised Wade never commented on how you resembled a walking corpse day after day.

Walking amongst the living as your soul was claimed by the dead.

Nightmares quickly became your waking reality. A piece of what Logan left behind burrowed in your chest, settling further than you could ever reach. But that remained the horrid truth. You didn't want to get rid of it—you couldn't fathom the thought for longer than a few seconds. The remedies given by Wade, Laura, Ness, were all flimsy bandaids that you stripped off when they weren't looking—hoping that the darkness within would eventually consume you whole.

What existed in your mind—in the very depths of your heart—were all you had left of the man who disappeared without a trace.

Staring at the ceiling was easier. Tracing the cracks in the plaster, the worn in marks of people who lived here long before you ever would. You pretended that he lay beside you—his body inches away from reaching for you. In search of a slice of contentment to counteract the yawning grave that threatened to bury him alive. You could play along in this delusion, create a world of your own as your vision blurred.

Maybe if you wished hard enough...it would come true.

Eventually the need for sleep won, dropping shovel after shovel of dirt. Intent on burying you six feet under in a spot that was never meant for you. Memories played on a loop, a reminder of what could never be—a fate that had been mistakenly written in the stars— and you accepted it with a solemn heart that sang a long forgotten song.

One you never should have learned.

A creak echoed in the living room, your door left ajar in case you had to run. But the cadence of her footsteps had grown familiar to your weary ears. The drag of boots across hardwood, a shuffle here and there in her attempt to stay quiet. She hardly left your apartment anymore. Taking a spot on your couch like a guard dog you never asked to keep—a protector who took on the role her father was meant to fill.

Laura often fell asleep on the leather piece of furniture never meant to be utilized as a bed. You peeked your head out once to check if she needed anything, only to find her laying with her body faced closest to the door—a cracked picture frame of a much older version of your Logan placed on the table beside her. Her brows were furrowed, face pinched in fear, and for the first time you understood her relationship to the Wolverine.

She shared much more than his DNA.

She was plagued by his nightmares as well.

Your heart cracked a bit further at the knowledge that she might never have another night of peace in her life. Forever taunted by a past that should have been happy.

Sighing, you turned onto your side, staring at the neon glow of your alarm clock—a polaroid of Logan propped against the lamp. Wade took it months before you got the chance to meet the man who would drastically shift the course of your life. Two days ago you found it on your pillow—a chocolate bar beside it. Wade's attempt at making you smile.

Even if all it managed to do was make you cry.

Broken wet sobs that left your body wracked with shivers, your heart numb to each emotion that might have existed before he walked away. You'd gone over their explanations in your head numerous times. Mulled over each word and soft whisper of why. Yet nothing registered but the emptiness—the hollow ache that spilled over with grief.

No matter how often you patched it back up, he still managed to break his way back in. The reminder of his absence only served to split you down the middle—rendering you incapable of anything but pain.

"I miss him too."

Your body jolted at the soft sound of her voice practically filled to the brim with melancholy. She stood in your doorway, hands limp at her side, and for the first time you saw her as who she really was. A child who lost her father not once, but twice. Wordlessly you dragged the blankets back from his side of the bed, rolling to face her as she clambered onto the mattress still clad in jeans and a t-shirt.

You offered your own pajamas a week ago in the hopes of making her more comfortable. Only for her to reveal she slept in her clothes even at the mansion.

Just in case.

"What was he like? Your father." The topic of the older Logan rarely came up for you, his memory somehow entwined with the man you fell in love with. But Laura knew him best. She'd seen him at his worst, only to watch him become the father he was always meant to be. "You don't have to talk about him if you don't want to."

She sighed, shifting around as if to shed the layer of vulnerability that scratched at her. "Angry."

You smiled. "Always?"

"No," she breathed. This breached onto territory she wasn't used to, memories she never liked to look back on, but for some unknown reason...it made you smile. So she persisted in spite of the discomfort that gnawed at her stomach. "He took care of Charles for a long time before he found me. Or well before I found him. But he had a lot to be angry about."

"I imagine." And you could.

Humans were their own enemy at times, destroying all that was good in the world. After witnessing what Fortuna went through—where her path lay—you understood how people would rather villainize what they didn't understand. Logan faced it each day, the difference of being someone who slipped by unnoticed yet could never truly reveal himself.

A man that carried the grief of all he lost and persisted despite the pain.

"He would have liked you," Laura mumbled, her eyes growing heavy with sleep's desperate call.

"I don't think–"

"You're like Charles." Her eyes slipped shut, body sagging into the mattress, while you were stunned into silence. "That's why."

She fell silent before the words managed to sink deep into your mind—puncturing a spot of love that existed in spite of all this agony. A place that Logan claimed all to himself. Yet as you lay there, tracing the lines of his daughter's face with your eyes, you felt her memory merge with his. Creating a small corner of your world for her to reside in—a home in your heart.

Tucking the blanket around her shoulder, you met sleep's call with a pleased sigh. It gripped you tight, closing its arms around your steady beating heart. Unbeknownst to you as the clock struck two in the morning, a shard of your broken heart wedged itself back into place. Healing over with a jagged scar sewn together by the girl who longed for permanency in a world that offered her the bitter end of a short stick.

The girl who asked for her father and got a mother instead.

Burnt pancake batter filled your senses, burning the insides of your nostrils as you were roused from sleep to the sharp off key singing of Wade in your kitchen. The spot beside you was empty, the sheets cold, and with a ragged sigh you sat up. Rubbing the sleep from your bleary eyes. What slowly became your favorite part of the mornings—waking up beside a man who did everything he could to keep you between warm sheets—suddenly shifted into a horrid dream.

You were alone. Again.

The familiar prick of tears stung your eyes faster than you would have liked. Although that might have been the pancakes.

In sluggish movements, you dragged a flannel over your t-shirt to combat the frozen chill beginning to settle in the New York air. Fall was right around the corner, leaving you with a list of things to do before the apartment was back in working order. The window still sat unfixed—plastic taped over the gaping hole per Wade's instructions—and the radiator gave out after Fortuna's whip went through it.

"Just call me angel of the morning," Wade crooned, flipping another charred piece of bread onto a stack that began to lean four pancakes ago.

Laura watched it warily, her fingers gripped around a can of shitty soda you picked up for her two days ago. Coffee was offered as an alternative to her sugary habits; she offered to steal in case you were low on funds. You figured it was easier to appease than argue.

"Do you even know how to cook?" she muttered, taking another gulp.

"Such a ray of sunshine. It's like Logan is still here with us." Wade poured another glob of chunky batter onto your now ruined cast iron pan. "Tell me does that come from your genetics or is it a fancy power they gave you?"

She snorted, her claws coming free to stab at the pile and drag a pancake to her plate. "Genetics."

"I figured." He slid the syrup her way, the bowl in his other hand nearly tipping the batter onto the floor. "Use a fork, you alley cat. Housewives do not get paid enough to cook a fantastic meal and serve it too."

"You're not getting paid," Laura mumbled through a mouthful of food.

"Exactly." His head glanced towards the stove, eyes narrowed in mock irritation. "We should talk about that huh Feige."

A pancake slipped off the stack, hitting the counter with a heavy thud and you began to wonder if the bread was in fact what he said it was. Ever since you woke up in the mansion, Wade had been your chef morning noon and night. Each meal entirely came with  

Laura squinted at the smoke rapidly rising to the ceiling. "Maybe you should cook them for shorter periods of time."

"Don't question my methods, I'm a pancake champion Oliver." Her face scrunched, disgust flooding across her narrowed gaze. "Oliver and Company? Orange alley cat led and taught by the smooth dog Dodger?" She shook her head. "Greatest take on Oliver Twist to exist?"

"Never heard of it."

He dropped the bowl, jabbing a finger in her face quick enough to startle you where you hid by the doorway. "I hope you're ready to have your life changed Howlett Junior by the voice of Billy Joel taking away all our worries. Right sweet angel?"

Your attempt to meld yourself into the wall proved unsuccessful when Laura turned to smile at you, trepidation rising to the surface in her eyes. They watched you with an air of indecision. After Logan left you became a ticking time bomb—each second passing quicker than either of them expected—and one day when it was least expected...you'd explode.

Every emotion you tried to push down would shove its way to the front, rendering them unavoidable. That's what terrified you the most. It scared them too—you could see it hidden beneath looks of false joy and hopeful glances. They wanted you to heal, to survive this grueling time of solitude.

You simply didn't know if you had it in you to appease their worries.

Peeling away from the doorframe, you moved closer with soft unsure movements. So unlike the person from before who got over the unrelenting fear of being seen, of one day being known. He read you like a book, flipped the pages with enthusiasm and love, and you thought what resided in your own heart was enough to keep him reading. You believed he might put pen to paper and script what lay in the path of your lives spent together.

But he stopped reading weeks ago, shutting the half empty story to save you from the grief that devoured him from the inside out.

He let you remain unfinished. Perhaps that's how you were always meant to be.

"Tell me somewhere in that sexy mind of yours there's a version of Oliver and Company, cause I can't be surrounded by uncultured fiends," Wade rambled, tossing two pancakes onto a clean chipped plate he slid your way.

"I know of it," you replied. The meek echo of your voice sent a wave of shock through your system—so different, so unrecognizable.

You wanted to be known again, to exist in the confines of someone's mind. Wade and Laura offered up theirs on a silver platter—promising not to tarnish the fracture spirit housed in your weary body.

The burnt flavor of bread nearly made you gag, but Wade's smile forced you to swallow with a half hearted grin. "Isn't it a cartoon?"

Wade huffed. "And we’re comic book characters. What else is new?" Chewing happily on his own plate, he drowned his breakfast in a heaping wave of syrup that dripped onto your flour covered counter. "The offer to watch it today is on the table."

You swallowed thickly, nose wrinkled at the bitter flavor that stuck to the back of your throat. "Actually I'm gonna go into work today."

They froze. Unease stirring to life in the small kitchen as they regarded you with the hesitation you'd grown sick of facing. You couldn't be a recluse for the rest of your life, spending days watching movies on your couch with Wade—sharing quiet dinners with Laura at the table that housed a vase full of decaying flowers. Things wouldn't come to a halt because a man exited your life—they couldn't.

Logan left to heal.

It was time you did the same.

"I don't have much sick leave left," you began, the argument ready to leap off the tip of your tongue. "And my shift ends at six, which gives me enough time to pick up some actual dinner."

"Wolverine 2.0 goes with you," Wade replied—the stern lilt of his voice jarring you for a moment.

"Wade–"

"She goes."

There remained no room left to place your well thought out points in, no space for you to budge on his only demand. You supposed this was better than having both of them show up out of the blue. Your boss hardly let you get away with Logan showing up once or twice; two heroes would send them over the edge, eventually leading to your job being terminated.

You sighed, pushing the food around your plate for a second. "I guess she can learn something. Since she's supposed to be in school."

"You know I'm right here," she interjected, shoving the empty dish towards Wade.

"Hush. The adults are talking." He threw a wink your way, eyes glinting with a mischief that dimmed the day Logan left. The sight filled your lungs with air, hope settling at the base of your empty heart. "I'll pack the lunches."

Warmth filled the empty crevices of your body—sparking life into a part of you that had been vacant for weeks. "You don't have to."

"Shush. I've got to take care of my little breadwinner." He pinched your cheek hard enough to send pain flaring down your neck. "Besides I need to live up to my role as wifey or Ness will stop calling me that in bed."

Laura groaned, her eyes shutting to the sight of Wade's brash smile. "Gross."

"Ew," you replied, unable to hide the grin that cracked across your dried lips. "I didn't need to know that."

"Au contraire. If I had to hear you and Logan go at it for hours at a time. Kudos by the way it sounded like he gave phenomenal dick. You get to listen to me yap about my sex life."

Laura sped past you, vanishing into the bathroom and slamming the door shut with her boot. You couldn't blame her reaction. Hearing about her father's life drudged up pain that still existed in the back of her mind. Grief that she'd have to work through. Yet if she was anything like Logan, you'd have to face your own broken trauma in order for her to finally face hers.

"Yap?" you inquired, desperate to move on from the topic of him.

"Yeah. It's what all my fellow Gen Z’ers are saying."

With brows furrowed, you bit back the swell of laughter that bubbled up your throat. "Wade you're older than me by–"

His hand clapped over your mouth, muffling the remainder of your sentence. "Shhhh." A quick glance was thrown to the side. "Last I checked this is the Logan show. Not the Wade show. Well...not yet anyways."

"Hey Wade," you mumbled beneath a scarred palm that gripped your cheeks together. "Thank you."

For the first time all week...Wade gave you a smile that finally reached his eyes. Irises plagued with the same flicker of sadness that weighed heavy in your heart. The feeling of loss within a found family—of things changing faster than you could process. In an instant you were back to square one, struggling to keep your head above water.

Only this time you weren't swimming these dark waters alone. This time Wade and Laura clung to you, dragging what remained to a shore of a different color. A life yet to be explored.

"Anytime angel," he whispered with a kiss to your temple—drawing you close enough to feel his heart beneath the thin t-shirt. An organ that beat for one more person, that carved out space for his small inkling of hope.

For the family made up of two mutants, a blind woman, a sugar bear, the love of his life, and you.

The clatter of keychains echoed past the empty rows of shelves, bouncing off high ceilings decorated with yellowed lights. You caught sight of a small X-Men insignia stitched onto the side of the faded gray backpack. The stitches were frayed, the initials of L. K. H. placed right above it in sloppy angled sharpie, but the sight explained enough. Her entire life was stored within these aged pockets, in a pack held closed by a broken zipper and some faith.

"I like the Deadpool one." You watched her gloved hands toy with it for a moment, eyes glancing down the rows of darkened shelves every few moments.

Even here in the midst of silence and history, she remained on guard.

You wanted to promise a sliver of peace beyond all that she went through—a place where nothing happened except the shuffle of books and moving of boxes. Only to realize that you'd never be able to tell her something so untrue.

She'd never be entirely safe again. That made you want to rip at the world until your hands went bloody and raw. Until there remained a guarantee that she'd be able to sleep at night, that when her father came home things would be different.

"Peter made it." She picked at the black polish on her nails—the bottle swiped off your vanity a week ago in the hopes you wouldn't go looking for it. "Said a member of X-Force should have the marker."

"Didn't...they all die?"

"Yeah. So it's more of a warning I guess?" She grinned, wide and bright and so carefree it tugged sharply at your heart.

You placed another stack on the cart, fiddling with the order. If you kept yourself busy you could stop thinking about him. You could shove each memory and shared moment of bliss to the back of your mind. This was your chance to find a small semblance of normalcy after so much damage, a change in the rapidly shifting path of your life. You used to enjoy shelving pieces of history—find contentment in the familiar pattern of routine.

Now his eyes haunted your mind. His touch was a ghost along the back of your neck. His smile was reflected to you in the face of his daughter—the crinkles around her eyes an exact copy of his.

You were doomed to repeat history, destined to break as Fortuna did with a shattered heart and the hope that one day he might come home and find you. He'd open the apartment door set in place by his calloused hands and find you right where he left you—waiting as time stopped and dust gathered and your heart called for a man lost in time.

"I've got to shelve these," you said, voice thick with unshed tears you swallowed down. "But feel free to pick a book okay?"

She nodded, dragging a small journal out of her pack—a chewed up pen with it. "Wade gave me your lunch."

"I'll come find you in an hour?"

"I'm not going anywhere." The words were said more for your benefit than hers—a way to appease the constant flicker of unease in your mind. Perhaps this is what she lived with her whole life. The pain of yearning for someone to come back to her, to stay.

You'd be that person.

You would stay.

Smiling one last time, you pushed the cart into a row sparse with books—the light clicking on above your head as your footsteps echoed off the wooden floor. Your boss texted you quick instructions before she took the upstairs shift, the piles left behind for you to sort through. It seemed that classes were back in session, each book taken out regarding some form of historical information on New York.

Your eyes caught the titles while you worked. Sliding books into their proper spot and discarding the paper slotted in as a placeholder. It became a mindless task. A job of familiarity that your muscles immediately recognized—your arms moving of their own volition. Giving free reign to your mind that turned over information at a rapid rate.

What happens now? What would life turn into?

Now that you were back in a place that held so much of your soul you found that fitting back into the mold felt wrong. You were a human who got caught up in the affairs of mutants. It had happened before to others like you, it would certainly happen again. Yet you weren't sure you could handle the pain of being tossed into the ring with no means of protection again.

Your heart barely survived the first time.

To do it again would mean signing your name along death's dotted line. Only this time the pact would be sealed with your own blood.

A tilted stack of books slid onto their sides, grabbing hold of your attention quicker than expected. You slammed a hand against them with the hopes of saving yourself from extra work. Only for the one in your other hand to slip, hitting the cart with a thud and shoving it a foot away. Your mind went into overdrive—the noise of metal clanging against the tall shelves reverting into the all too familiar crack of a whip.

You gasped, leaping back as if the pile burned right down to your bone—the books toppling to the ground in rapid succession. A domino effect that would leave you crouching for a good twenty minutes to put everything back in its rightful spot.

"No," you exclaimed, your voice unwavering amidst the anxiety that filled your stomach.

Something ripped at the base of your spine, crackling through your body like a livewire. It pulled at every nerve, every tendon and muscle, until you were positive this was more than an overwhelming amount of stress. Your vision went black, a glare of light flashing behind closed eyelids, as the world went still and time rolled to a deathly halt.

Blue washed off your stiff form in rolling waves, curling around your stretched arms and down to the fingers that nearly curled around a book held in midair. A rush of cold air flooded your lungs, expanding them in your chest with a strength you'd never experienced before. As if the missing piece within your DNA finally settled into place—a spot always meant to hold something else.

A power that flared to life with a burning wave of heat.

It welcomed you like a long lost friend. Burrowed into the broken parts of your chest with a promise to put you back together. Time trickled by as your heart started up again—beating slowly against your ribs. Surging past each part of you that intertwined with this newfound link.

You sucked in another breath, eyes fluttering open with a flash of cerulean to see Laura struggling along the bookcase. Her face screwed up in pain, claws buried in the wooden shelves to drag herself forward. She moved an inch at a time, her cry unable to fill the vacant air as she struggled to rip you from the power that fractured your mind.

Such an inconceivable topic: time. Centuries prickled across your skin, millenniums made a home along each bone that grinded to a stop, decades offered you a life that might have ended at the age of eighty.

Infinity. Immortality. An end that rivaled Death.

Oh...what bliss.

"Yes," you relented. An answer to the question that would never be said aloud.

Another pulse of energy flowed off your shoulders, spilling across empty shelves—rattling the boxes that began to topple to the floor. If you weren't careful you'd bring destruction to a building that became your second home. But the consciousness you relied on was suddenly nowhere to be found.

"Stop!" Laura's voice struck you across the face, punching into your chest with enough blistering pain to wake up your mind to what was happening within you.

Slamming your hands against the shelves that stood on either side of you, the light of blue sputtered out, dying quick enough for you to get a hold of your body. Time fell back into place, the books you nearly dropped crashed to the floor with a loud clatter of thuds, and you collapsed. Your knees hit the floor harshly, pain coursing up your legs. Yet you could barely keep your eyes open.

"Laura," you wheezed, body sagging against the shelf.

She collapsed beside you, gathering your hands into a vice-like hold. "What happened? What the fuck was that?"

"Fortuna..."

"Is she alive? Is she here?" Her head raised, eyes scanning the vacant area for signs of your variant self.

"She–" Your vision swirled with spots of black, your head fuzzy with the prick of power that wanted to consume you. "I–"

"We gotta get you home," she muttered, shifting her strength to lift you to your feet—body braced heavily on her as she walked. "I'm calling a cab. Stay with me okay? Just stay awake."

The distant ring of her phone echoed in the background as she dragged you with her, a familiar muffled voice coming through the small speaker. Wade. You wanted to speak to him. Ask him what just happened. But only one person would hold the answers—only one person would make you feel alive again. You sucked in a shaky breath, hot tears spilling down your cheeks. The image of him—his smile, his love—filling your broken mind.

"I'm taking her home," Laura muttered into the line.

Her voice became a buzz in your ears. Sharp and unrelenting and inescapable. Your vision went dark, mind succumbing to the painful twisting of your gut—the need to be anywhere else overtaking every other thought. Laura called your name, shook your shoulders, but the world faded away before you could reach out and grasp it; your body sinking beneath the depths, drowning in the soothing waves of time.

“How did you sleep?”

“No nightmares.”

“Are you lying to me Howlett?”

“I’m not lying,” he confessed. “I didn’t really dream of anythin’ this time around.”

Your own laughter pricked at your ears. “Don’t tell me. It was because of me.”

“I think it might be bub.” His touch ghosted across your skin—breath a wash of hot air against your skin. “Guess you’re my cure. Been lookin’ for awhile.”

"Logan," you murmured, eyes fluttering open.

His smile lit up the darkness in your chest—eyes crinkled and lips parted in a sigh of love. "Yeah bub?"

"Y-You're here..."

A hand curled around the back of your neck, drawing you in close enough to make the steady beat of your heart flutter. "Where else would I be honey? I woke up with ya."

"But you've been gone." Your brows furrowed, the haze in your thoughts blocking anything other than him. "I was with Laura–"

He stilled. "Laura?"

"She was helping me," you mumbled, attempting to force your eyes to stay open. "At the library."

"You're just dreamin'," he chuckled.

"But I'm not–"

Lips that haunted you in your sleep brushed across the bridge of your nose—his fingers scratching at the base of your scalp with a hum. "You haven't met her yet honey. How could you be with her at the library?"

You wrenched your eyes open, clutching at the covers that lay over your bodies in an iron grip. "Fortuna–"

Logan's body went still, his head rearing back to stare at you in abject horror. "How do you know her name?" he rasped. "I never told you..."

"What are you talking about?" The buzzing filled each sense, each part of your already numb body. "Wait. No. I need more time," you begged, tears rushing to the surface.

His face blurred, your name a distant call on the tip of his tongue as the waves crashed over your body. Dragging you back to a shore meant for you. Darkness swallowed you whole in an instant. Until you could barely catch your breath—the speed of time rushing to a quick stop. Within the hold of darkness, the drifting peace of nothingness, you heard it.

The vibrant sapphire call of a woman you believed to be the enemy.

“Do better than me."

"Love him the way I couldn't.

You gasped, thrashing against the vice hold that wrenched you apart. The voice whispered soothingly in your ear, a warm compression against a heart that longed for more than this unfathomable excruciating ache.

She drew you to your feet, hands clasped around your wrists, and helped you stagger to the ocean's edge. She faced you with a mirrored smile that faded weeks ago—her eyes bright and flickering with peace.

"Do what I couldn't." Thumbs pressed into the base of your wrist. "Protect them. All of them."

A thick sob ripped from your chest—eyes blurry with tears that refused to stop. "How? I-I shouldn't be this."

"It was always meant to be you. Not me."

"W-What?"

"When Death asks for your hand. Take it. She will lead you home." The scathing brightness of sunlight burned your closed eyelids, pushing you towards something familiar. A place you knew would protect you. "Until then. Show them that time was never the enemy. We're simply their companion."

"Fortuna!" you cried, the form of her slowly dissipating back into the realm of darkness not yet meant for you. "I can't do this! I'm not supposed to be this!"

"Tell him I'm sorry."

Hands grasped at your shoulders. The cold press of metal against the bare skin of your arms jolted you awake—lungs expanding with air that felt like home. The floral scent of your laundry soap filled your nose, the warmth of your bed dragged along your body, and the brush of hair on your neck drew you back to the present. Your eyes fluttered open, chest heaving for any amount of air you could draw in.

"Laura?"

She sighed, dropping the hold she had on your shoulders. "You did it again."

"Did it again?"

"Looks like someone got jealous of all these special powers around her," Wade teased from the doorway of your room—a glass of water in his hand.

"What?" you croaked, suddenly aware of how raw your throat was.

He huffed, settling on the side of your bed. "You've got a bad case of the McFlys. Traveling to and fro in the timeline. Don't think the big guy upstairs will like that very much."

"God?"

"Victor."

You choked. "Who?"

"Or maybe it's Loki," he huffed. "I get that show's timeline confused. Anyways up you go. Drink this. Nurse Wade's orders."

With reluctance you downed the glass of water, Laura's watchful gaze burning into your from the chair. They moved with hesitation brimming to the surface of their eyes—a glaze of uncertainty prominent in each shift of their bodies. They were scared. Whether it was due to what you were turning into or what you could become. You couldn't be certain at this time, but the fear still lingered in the air.

Thick and bitter and so unlike the two mutants who'd become your family in the past few weeks.

"What's happening to me?" you whispered, Wade's hand reaching for yours with a placating grin.

"I've got one guess and it's dredging up memories of that fucker Francis, but dormant mutant gene." The panic in your eyes had him reaching for your other hand. "Hey look at me angel okay? I know how to handle this."

You shook your head, that unsettling twist in your gut rising to the surface. "I'm not...No. That's not possible. I would have..." You hiccuped, oxygen becoming harder to reach for as his words began to settle along your skin. "I would have known," you whispered.

"I didn't." He drew you close enough for his nose to brush your forehead. "That little surprise landed in my lap like a bad case of chlamydia. It's rare, but it happens."

"Why me?" you uttered, unable to process anything other than Laura's sharp gaze."

He sighed. "We don't get to pick and choose. Something must have triggered it."

Fortuna's hold on your jaw, the rocks scattered along the dirt digging into your back. It all came back to you. Her final words bleeding with an act of sacrifice—a promise to gift you with the curse she was unable to handle. Do better than her. Protect them better than her. Wield the ebbing and flowing of time better than her.

She awoke a part of you that had yet to come to life. A dormant section of your DNA that might have forever gone unnoticed if her powers hadn't unlocked it. She gave you everything, dropped the burden on your shoulders, because she knew something you didn't at the time.

You had people—a family, a lover—to keep you stable.

You had the one thing she couldn't save.

"It was always meant to be you. Not me."

Laura sat up, her hands clasped tightly in her lap. "It's time."

Wade glanced over his shoulder. "We don't know where he is Oliver."

She sneered, digging out the small phone from her vest pocket. "I do. I gave him the keys."

"Call who?" you rasped, barely able to process that you were back home somehow.

Until her eyes met yours and drew you back to the surface with a name that burned right through your heart. "Logan."

The sharp thwack of an axe against wood filled the still air. Mist clung to the area, settling over his shoulders with a wet layer of frigid condensation. He felt it weigh in his hair, sink into his flannel, and send a wave of cold familiarity through his body. A place he never thought could exist in a different universe somehow stood the test of time. The Logan that came before was somehow more like his variant self than expected.

He sighed, wiping the sweat from his forehead—the split open skin of his palms healing over before he could get a glimpse of them. The axe remained lodged into a mangled tree stump. Slivers and pieces of all that he chopped scattered in the clearing. He'd have to pick them up eventually, but he chose to stick with the same motion.

A piece of muscle memory he'd grown used to.

The sun began its descent beneath the thicket of trees, nightfall coming once more to a home occupied by a single person. Merely him and the stack of unread books left behind by a man who shared his taste. He yanked the flannel off his body, tossing it to the chair on his small porch, setting another log into place with a breath.

"Fuck," he muttered, cracking his neck slightly.

A mug of cold coffee sat discarded on the small table he constructed two weeks ago. A means to an end. A way to keep his racing mind busy from the pain that echoed like a bad dream in his head. He'd forgone the whiskey bottles stored in the liquor cabinet, opting for the bitter tang of the wine you preferred with your dinner.

The image of your smile kept him awake most nights. The sound of your laughter playing on a loop like a scratched record he clung to. This was his salvation. Your memory, your joy. It kept him going on days where the horrors threatened to drag him beneath the surface of the Earth.

He dug his grave long before he met you. Whether or not he crawled into it relied on one simple fact.

Though he dragged you through hell—became the cause of so much suffering within your life—you still loved him. You were waiting for him to come home.

"Desperado," he hummed, yanking the axe out of the splintered wood. "Why don't you come to your senses."

Discarding the tool to the side, he gathered what wood might be needed for a small fire. It wouldn't have any effect on whether he stayed warm or not, but it would put him at ease after such a grueling task. Tomorrow he'd go back to work at the yard—his measly paycheck enough to keep him fed with meals cooked in solitude.

He tossed them beside his fireplace, wiping the dirt and mud from his hands with the damp flannel. Life shifted the second Laura handed him the keys to this house on the edge of nowhere. Back to a routine he once knew so well. To a life that once offered him the facade of peace. He might have deluded himself into thinking it would happen again—that he'd get the chance to breathe again.

But your memory clung to his soul. You refused to release him from the spell of your love.

Fortuna's memory remained at the back of his mind like a long lost friend—someone who once offered him a future filled to the brim with hope. And then there was you. His honey. His lover till death. You were the reason he kept himself breathing, the reason his heart continued to thrum in his chest.

You were his savior, guiding him through the grief with a warm smile and a kiss of life.

The shrill ring of his phone broke the haze of memories he found himself in. Dropping into the chair beside his bed, he unlaced his boots—yanking the device out of the drawer on his dresser. He rarely needed it anymore. The contact he had with the rest of the world now whittled down to the people he worked with and the cashier at the small market.

With a sigh, he flipped it open in the hopes it was Wade calling to finally bug him about returning. It wouldn't be unusual. Weeks went by sluggishly, dripping like honey from the jar as he attempted to fix the broken parts of his heart.

Leaving without saying goodbye is what hurt the most. His silent kiss pressed to your cold forehead, his lingering gaze that did what he could to burn your features into his mind. He wanted you with him. Here in this small home. He wanted to hear your laughter fill up the empty spaces, the warmth of your love shining in the air with a palpable physicality that stole his breath away.

Logan ached for you.

But you didn't deserve a man riddled with demons. Certainly not the version of himself that left you behind.

Laura's name flashing across the screen set that familiar unease back in his stomach. The terror that something happened again—something brought you pain when he wasn't there to protect you—filled the crevices of his heart. And with a shaky breath, he answered.

"Laura."

She interrupted him before empty pleasantries could rise to the surface. "You need to come home."

He swallowed thickly. "What happened?"

"I can't explain over the phone, but it's bad. She's not gonna cope without you here."

"What the fuck do you mean cope?" he bit out, his eyes flashing to the small framed image of you that sat proudly on his nightstand. "Is she hurt?"

"No."

He sucked in a breath, relief washing over his shoulders. "Is she okay?"

Laura hesitated. "She's...broken." The word struck him with a visceral anger—an emotion that nearly caught him off guard. "She needs you here Dad. Wade and I can only do so much and if I knew she was dormant I could have helped sooner."

Dormant.

He stiffened, fingers tightening around the phone hard enough for it to crack. "What do you mean by dormant?"

Laura sucked in a breath. "She's..." A beat of silence filled his chest with a fear he never knew could exist in this universe. "She's like us, Dad. She's like her."

Like her.

The world shifted on its axis as he sat there listening to Laura's shaky attempts to explain what occurred. How you needed him this time around. His heart rammed an unsteady beat in the confines of his chest. An echo that rang with a crippling hollow promise of loneliness. Only this time it didn't scream for him—it raged for the person he loved.

The person he left behind.

"Send her here," he said. And before his mind could comprehend the words spilling past his lips, he made a vow he failed to keep—a promise he'd fulfill until his final breath. "I'll keep her safe."

note: this is incredibly late than what i originally planned, but life has been chaotic. and to everyone in the us who are struggling, i hope you take care of yourself this week. we got this and i love you.

[loser-female]

For example I'd take the citation rules in Wikipedia and start being weird around them, asking the other user to provide a better and unbiased source. Playing around the words, nitpicking, weird accusations people can't really get out of ("why do you care so much about this", no way this man can make up an excuse), abusing the socratic method ("can you explain why are you focusing so much on homophobia or transphobia in the movement"? Do you have a source for this being a misandrist movement?" "Do you have unbiased sources for this"?),' circular reasoning too is a great way to make people mad.

But don't attack them on the front with name calling or suggesting that they are affiliated with any movement at all. Always be calm.

"I don't understand why are you getting angry over this, I'm just pointing out your sources are not good enough according to our standards" or "I'm sorry but I can't see how this is irrelevant, can you explain it to me?"

And this... Over. and. Over. And. Over.

I can NOT fucking believe i am watching this shit happen in real time.

Overnight I've watched the wiki page for 4B go from a single line of text describing it as a feminist movement and four more lines beneath it explaining the rules, to now it being a several paragraph screed about how it is a terf riddled, transphobic, transwomen hating movement made intentionally and with the sole purpose to stop women from having sex with transwomen.

The article editing history shows this all being done overnight. It also shows it mostly being done by a single user who INTERESTINGLY ENOUGH has been flagged multiple times for getting into editing wars on the CIRCUMCISION and FORESKIN wiki pages!!!! You cannot make this shit up!!

American women only briefly floated the idea that they shouldn't have sex with anyone that can get them pregnant in a time where pregnancy could be a death sentence and like fucking LIGHTNING these folks come out the gate to shut it down in every way possible.

[scurvgirl]

Kissing Crows

I think Rook and Lucanis should kiss more. Minor spoilers for Lucanis's arc. (Rating: T) Rook is not specified other than using she/her pronouns.

There should have been a kiss after A Murder of Crows. I fix.

--

Rook could have sworn there was inuendo laced within Lucanis's words when he insisted they depart from Villa Dellamorte. "I have plans." Her entire body, aching from fighting Venatori, tingled at the thought. A girl could get by on heated glances, near touches, and a near kiss only so much after all.

When the team arrived back at the Lighthouse, Lucanis insisted on changing into his off-duty attire (she refused to call a waistcoat more comfortable - comfortable was worn leather, soft fabrics, not buttons and ties). She got that - blood got stinky if not tended to quickly enough and she could only guess how hot his leathers got with all the buckles and straps and dramatic swoops.

She figured he'd find her afterwards. He did not.

So, Rook left her quiet meditation room and headed for the larder. She found him in his natural habitat - in the kitchen, brooding over a cup of coffee.

Truly.

She poked at him. He smiled, then made a vague reference to how she was important to him. Nothing outright, of course, that would be too much.

Her heart sank as he seemed content to return to sipping his coffee. Well. That was that. First Talon and he just wanted...coffee.

She turned from him, about to walk away when...no. No. This was absurd! He either wanted to be with her or he didn't and she was over these suggestions of more. She didn't want a suggestion, she needed a confirmation.

Rook turned back to him and maybe a bit of her irritation showed on her face because Lucanis raised a brow,

"Rook?"

"We have been through some tough shit together, Lucanis. I've helped you and now I need your help."

He leaned forward, immediately concerned, "What do you need of me?"

"I need you to tell me why two people who are clearly attracted to each other, who respect each other, who want to be with each other...aren't with each other. Because I've made my desire known and for a moment, in the larder, I thought you did too but..." Alright, she was running out of steam and it didn't help that his face had morphed from shock to embarrassed pain.

"I did. Do. It is complicated."

"Explain."

"Spite...it is one thing to be with me, but Spite..."

"You're worried about me fucking the demon in you?"

He coughed, blushed, recoiled in the least graceful move she had ever seen from him. It only endeared her more to him.

Before he could recover enough to respond, she was stepping forward, "I have seen you, all of you, and Spite. I have walked in your mind, felt your heart, fought beside Spite, helped Spite. He does not worry me."

"How? If I lost control while we...I cannot let that happen."

"Then we set the expectation with Spite. It's not like he can't be reasoned with. Watch."

"You cannot seriously -

"Hey, Spite. Spite!"

"Smells like beans and desire!"

"You bet it does. I want to make a deal."

"A deal?"

"Yeah. When Lucanis and I are intimate together, you let him run things in the body, full stop - no manifesting."

Spite's face twisted into disgust, "Why would I do that? I don't. Taste flesh."

"So you agree you won't manifest if I kiss Lucanis?"

"No! Too much!"

"Great. Lucanis!"

Spite receded as a very perturbed Lucanis pushed through - purple fading from warm brown.

"Rook."

"Lucanis." She was on him in a second - knees suddenly beside his thighs, hands gently cupping his face as she leaned down. He didn't turn away.

He smelled like coffee and he was so warm. His beard and mustache tickled but she didn't mind. Instead, she moved her lips over his, feeling his warmth and taking in every moment.

In the end, it was Lucanis who opened his mouth first. The kiss deepened with mutual sighs of long awaited pleasure. Her body relaxed more firmly against his while his hands ran up her back. She tasted his coffee, his heat, the slight tingle of electricity of his possession, but most importantly - she tasted him.

They broke the kiss to breathe only to find themselves liplocked into another kiss - this time with Lucanis guiding her so that her head rested with the cradle of his elbow while he plundered her mouth his his. His fingertips grazed up her jawline. Her hands sank into his long hair. And they kissed and kissed and kissed until their lips were reddened and their eyes hooded with amorous affection.

She smiled softly, trailing a finger down his jaw, "Congrats on becoming First Talon."

Laughter, pure and simple escaped him. "You are a wonder, Rook. Thank you." He kissed her again.

[ssentimentals]

Hi!! thank you for taking requests! Can I please request Wonwoo - Hurt Prompt 30#

Thank you! 🩵

hello dear! thank you so much for requesting! 💜 hopefully you will like it!

hurt prompt: 'you could've died!'. 'i didn't.' 'well you were pretty fucking close!'

to wonwoo it felt like an euphoria. you can tell just from the way he runs back to you, grinning from ear to ear, completely oblivious to inner turmoil that's happening inside of you. his eyes are sparkling and his excitement spills out in form of loud ramblings and grand gestures. you try to keep up, to fake a smile and calm your racing heart, but it's hard to give back the same energy to your boyfriend, when you had a full blown panic attack.

'hey, babe, what's wrong?' he asks, finally clocking your unusual quietness. 'did something happen?'

you can not say a thing - that is an option. that is the option that will guarantee you both a good night with no fights. but letting this rot inside of you is a bad idea, so you go for the truth: 'i can't believe you went over there, when everyone knows how dangerous that is.'

wonwoo catches anger notes in your voice easily and frowns, confused by the reaction. 'yes? well, motorsport is dangerous, yes. nothing happened though.'

but it could have you want to scream at his face, but for now your patience did not snap. you try to stay calm, while explaining how watching him do all of this made you feel like you're drowning. that it made you anxious, stressed and set off all alarms in your brains to a panic mode. how when he fell you stopped breathing, your heart froze and didn't beat until he stood up and waved that everything is fine. wonwoo listens attentively like he always does, but it's clear that your words don't ring any bells, when he pinpoints all the special things he wore for safety.

'it's not like i was doing it professionally,' wonwoo finishes, getting irritated with the fact that something that brough him so much joy is not being put down. 'so it's all good.'

'you could've died!' you finally give in to the urge to shout.

'i didn't.' wonwoo cuts off, looking around. he always hated messy fights in front of the audience and he hoped you were not about to start one. 'i just fell. i didn't die.'

'well you were pretty fucking close!' you hiss, hitting his chest with all the strength you have.

wonwoo catches your hand, glaring at you as he quietly asks you to calm down. his tone implies on a highest level of annoyance from his side and tears cloud your vision, because he doesn't understand and to him you're just throwing a tantrum about nothing.

'you mean so much me, how do you think i felt when you fell?' you whisper in a shaky voice.

that seems to get through his brain and wonwoo's eyes widen. his grip on your hand instantly slackens and he pulls you in a hug, noticing your tears. 'oh,' he mutters, hugging you close. 'i'm- i'm sorry baby, don't cry.'

he didn't get it, you know. he's acting like this right now only because sight of your tears always affects him strongly; he still thinks you're overreacting in the end. hugging him back, you think that maybe for now this is enough. maybe later you will be able to explain him how mortifying it is when you watch someone you love do something dangerous. that would be later though. for now, you snuggle into his arms and sigh, being happy with understanding that he is here and he is safe and well. that is enough for now.

a/n: request your own here! <3 - nini

[midnight-mourning]

HAPPY HALLOWEEN!!!

Or at least, happy spookvember! Unfortunately couldn't get this out on time like I wanted, BUT it's here now (or will be soon). I figured since the poll I made back at the end of September was so close, I'd just give you guys a bonus of a Halloween thing for funsies. So, if you haven't guessed it already:

click the read more please

YOU'RE GETTING ANOTHER ONESHOT!

in 24 hours, or less.

Let me explain

So, the promptober ended up being MUCH longer than I anticipated, and I think with how much that happened, y'all need to sit and digest it before i hit you smack in the face with another one. I also need time to write it and it's gonna end up being worked on today and tomorrow both. By the time you see this I will be back at it.

BUT KNOW THIS, it's on it's way, and it picks up right off where we left off in the promptober. It's going to be a much more light-hearted read as well.

So, KEEP THIS POST SAVED, as I'll update it with the one-shot once it's finished, as well as an ao3 link. I'll also post an update with the link so you'll hopefully be notified once it's here. SO, hope you enjoyed the first part, and be on the lookout for part two soon :)

IF YOURE SEEING THIS AND YOU HAVEN'T READ THIS STORY FIRST. DO SO. It's basically the set up for this one.

Okay, here's your story, hope you enjoy! Ended up being much longer than I anticipated but she's fun.

Borrowed Time

Word count: 5511

🎃☀️🎃🌙🎃☀️🎃🌙🎃☀️🎃🌙🎃☀️🎃🌙🎃

"Hurry up! We're gonna be late!" You hear your sister call from outside your room. 

You adjust your shirt collar once more, and double check the green paint covering any and all exposed skin on your body hasn't smeared. Though, you doubt it. Lisa made sure to completely cover you. Be that because she wanted your costume to look nice or simply because it was a ploy to make you miserable, who's to say?

You turn around, facing your brother who's sitting up on the bed, still looking very cute in his pumpkin costume. 

Your sister bursts into the room, "Let's goooo." She moans, marching over to you and starting to shove you towards the door with gloved hands.

"Hey, hey cool it Frankenstein. There's a baby on the bed that has to come with us."

You can't see her eyes through the goggles she's wearing, but her frown tells you she's not pleased. 

You turn to face her fully, "Lisa. We can't leave Gabe at home."

She groans, and starts trudging out of your room, "Fineeee, but hurry uuupp."

"Okaaayyyy," You say, and put your focus on your little brother. 

You put your hands on your hips, "Alright Gabriel, ready to go?"

He sneezes. 

"Good enough for me," You nod, scooping him up and heading downstairs. 

Your neighborhood was filled with people in their 60s or older, all retired types and the likes, with a few families with kids Lisa's age here and there. Meaning it was a gold mine for candy. You make your usual lap around the block, Lisa guiding you as you pull Gabe along in his wagon. 

As you return to your house, Lisa's bucket and the wagon having collected a good bit of candy, you reach down and snatch up a chocolate bar, snacking on it.

You decide you have to mess with her at least a little bit, "You sure you still want to go to the Plex? This is quite the haul, you know."

"Yes! You promised!"

You laugh, ruffling her already crazed hair, "Just making sure. Go dump your candy on the table while I strap Gabe in, yeah?"

She rushes off, and while you're putting your brother in the car and loading up the wagon your phone buzzes. 

It's Abby, 'Hey! You going to make it to the party tonight?

Gonna be super spooky~ :)

And there's a costume contest! Winner gets a sweet prize'

You text back as you start up your car, Lisa rushing back out the door to get in, 'I'll stop by for a bit, team's making me, but Lisa's foaming at the mouth to trick or treat this year and that's my priority'

'Yeah that'd be mine too if I was dealing with her

Thankfully mom and dad have Jack and I don't'

You walk up to your porch, double checking you left the candy bowl out and lock your front door.

'If I have to take a guess, she'll be exhausted by nine and I can drop 'em both off in the Daycare for a bit

but not for long, I wanna be in bed by 11 tonight'

'What are you, 30?'

You get in your car, ignoring Lisa's whining to get a move on, 'Hahahahahaha no.

Just slept bad during my nap earlier'

You pull out, heading to the Pizza Plex. When you arrived, the place is packed, you just manage to grab a parking spot. As soon as she's out of the car Lisa is heading for the entrance, and you have grab her so you can get Gabe out and situated in his wagon. 

Upon entering, you're actually quite impressed. You'd seen some staff setting up over the past few days, but now that all the decorations were up it really added to the wow factor. People milled about from place to place, all dressed up, and Halloween music played from speakers all across the atrium. 

You look down to your sister, "Alright, where do you wanna start first-aaand she's gone. Dang it, Lisa."

After a quick search you spy her at one of the many tables and booths set up. You give her a brief scolding but then continue on with your evening. 

By seven you're the one that's exhausted, you're pretty sure you've hit every spot once if not twice. Except for one, that is. 

You'd been saving the Daycare because it's where you'd wanted to end, but now you had no choice, Lisa had quite literally visited every trick or treating spot already, and played most of the carnival games. 

The doors are open, and inside you see kids running about playing games and such. Tending to a long line of trick or treaters is Mia and one of the other helpers. She's dressed as a werewolf, while the other helper-Carter maybe?-is dressed as a ghoul.

The former greets you as you approach, "Hey! Good to see you! Love your costume."

"Thank you, I made it for them," Lisa speaks for you, chest puffing with pride. 

Mia drops some candy into her bucket, "Well of course! Excellent work, Dr. Frankenstein. There's more candy and goodies inside if you'd like to take a peek."

Your sister turns to you, eyes wide. You nod, and she's rushing in, almost knocking over Carter in the process. 

You cringe as you watch after her, her maniacal laughter echoing in her wake. 

"Sorry about her," You say as you step to the side, pulling Gabe's wagon up to beside you.

Mia waves her hand, "No worries, but look at this cutie here!" She bends down to Gabe's level, "Hello Gabriel! You look very handsome this evening."

He giggles as she continues to fawn over him. In the meantime, you scan through the Daycare, looking for the bot you're pretty sure was the subject of your crazy dream earlier. 

He shows himself for you, suddenly appearing on the ground in front of a group of kids, who shriek from fear and delight. He raises to his full height slowly, using his cape to cover part of his face. 

His cape bursts open and he poses, hands up and fingers clawed. It causes the little group to scatter, laughing as they run away. 

As he straightens again, he suddenly pauses for a moment, his focus turning to you. His rays spin once or twice and you smirk, waving. 

Another pause, then, one hand to his chest, he bows low. Your phone buzzes as he rises again. 

'We need to talk.'

You frown, but then shake it off, 'Can't even compliment my costume first? Lisa spent like three hours getting me this green'

'It's, fine. Perhaps a bit tacky, but fine'

You have to hide your gasp as you look up to him, he's now busy with several kids,  'You know, there's a particular emoji I want to send you right now, but I won't because at least one of us has class

I hope that glitter glue stains your faceplate'

'You're simply jealous I look better than you, it sounds like'

You grit your teeth, 'When and where?'

'Ball pit. As soon as possible, preferably'

You glance back to see Mia still messing with Gabe, they're playing peek a boo.

"Hey, this is a weird ask, but could you watch Gabe for me for a second? I uh, need to go check on Lisa."

She gives you a thumb's up and a grin, "Of course! Here Gabe, you wanna help me pass out candy?"

With that taken care of, you head off into the chaos of the Daycare. 

Dodging running kids, you do spy your sister among them, viciously trying to win a game with donuts on a string. Her snapping teeth and general, aggressive, energy does make you question for a moment how much sugar she's had already.

You shrug it off, she's probably fine.

Another group of kids running giggling from Sun by the ball pit, but his demeanor shifts as soon as he sees you. Standing tall, maybe even irritated. 

"Well? What's so important it can't wait until say, tomorrow?"

Sun's hands smooth out his shirt, "Something's going on with Fazerblast."

"Yeah, trust me I'm well aware," You scoff and shake your head, "Been working on it for days with no luck, why do you care?"

His eyes narrow, "Because it's an opportunity, Bright Eyes. Surely you see that."

"Opportunity? For what-Oh no. No, no, no, you are not doing this to me tonight."

He clasps his hands together, bending so you're eye to eye, "When would you like me to remind you then, Sunshine? When the attraction and, surrounding areas, are functional again and we're able to do nothing?"

You're mad. Because you know he's right. You hate it when he's right. Much less admit to it. 

The glitches that've been occurring have been, concerning, to say the least. The map bots have been going haywire after using the charging stations, the music that plays throughout becoming warped, distorted. Certain walls and such shifting randomly, in some cases trapping kids in boxed out sections, to the concern of angry parents. 

Not to mention that the guns have also been malfunctioning, misfiring and in some cases, shocking participants when fired. Both the wielder and their target, which should not be happening. And that’s on top of the power outages.

Sun leans closer, voice low, "I believe you are as aware as I regarding a certain, threat, looming in this building. Surely you don't doubt that they may see tonight as as much an opportunity, right?"

You feel your eyes widen a tinge, "You think, you know who, is behind it? Why?"

"It's not her typical method, but it's the only logical conclusion I can come to," His rays spin, "And I'd rather interfere now before it grows worse."

"Mister Sun! What are you two talking 'bout?"

You both jump, looking down and seeing a couple curious kids.

Sun goes into action immediately, taking your hand and spinning you into a dip, "I'm persuading them to join my legion of the undead for all eternity, and if you aren't careful, I'll get you too!"

That does the trick, they run off giggling and chattering. You're still in his arms when you speak up.

"What was that."

He seems to realize he's still holding you, setting you upright and brushing his hands off on his pants, "Acting. Try not to think too hard on it, wouldn't want to damage that brain you're borrowing."

You scoff, "Ha ha. Anyway, since when do you care about other people? I don't see how you're set to gain anything from figuring this out."

"It's not 'people', that I'm worried about, Bright Eyes. Freddy is supposed to be hosting a game of laser tag later tonight and I fear-" He stops himself, looking away. 

You're surprised, but stick to just a simple tease, "Aw, you care about your friends, how sweet. Fine, I'm in. But you better have a strategy for getting out of here without being noticed."

"I think the opportunity may present itself sooner than anticipated," You see he's looking behind you.

The kids from before are back, and have brought many friends, garnering a small crowd. You spot Lisa among them, hands on her hips and angry pout on her lips. 

She takes charge, pointing, "Hey! The only one that gets to boss them around is me."

Once again, you don't get to react. 

Sun laughs darkly, shifting to stand behind you and taking you by the shoulders. He bends so his head is by your ear, taking surprising care to ensure you don't get poked by his rays. 

You glance up and see the wire lower from the ceiling slowly, "I'm afraid you're too late, Dr. They've fallen into my clutches and I won't be letting go so easily. They're mine now, and I'll be whisking them away to live in my castle, forever!"

Suddenly, you're in the air, Sun holding you firmly around the waist to ensure you don't fall. 

"But, as compensation for your loss," He opens his cloak and candy falls to the ground where you'd been standing, "Please accept this gracious exchange."

To your sister's credit, she seems to considered the offer for a moment before, "I suppose this suffices, very well," And she has the audacity to wave her hand.

Your mouth is agape in shock as you're carried over to the balcony outside the Daycare Attendant's room, "Lisa!"

"He had skittles! That's too good to pass up!" She shouts back, already digging through the candy with the other kids.

Sun sets you both down on the balcony shortly thereafter, and ushers you inside.

"And what was that?" You look up to him, only for his hands to cover your eyes.

"Still acting~ Now, no peeking. I don't need you invading my privacy."

"But you're the one who brought me up here!" You protest. No fair. You didn't even get a single glance around the room.

He scoffs lightly, "Semantics, Sunbeam. Start walking."

If you were in a worse mood you'd have ignore the demand. But, you want to get this over with as quick as possible. You feel bad just leaving your siblings in the care of the helpers without any notice, and you'd also like to actually enjoy Halloween a bit instead of doing what you do every day. 

You hear a door open and shut, and the hands are removed. It's still dark however, and turning you see the other Attendant is standing behind you.

"How do you manage to completely change your outfit?" You nod to the lack of shirt and cloak. 

His faceplate spins, "Trade secret."

"Fair enough, how's your Halloween going? Besides this I mean," You start walking down the hall to the theater, where you hear a Halloween movie playing.

He walks beside you, passing out a candy or two to the kids who notice you pass, "Delightful. I rather enjoy holidays when they're open to the public. Thought a day off is nice every so often."

"Tell me about it, I'm glad we decided to take a half-day today."

You reach the door and Moon bids you farewell, "Good luck, and try not to be too hasty, Icarus."

"No promises," You wink and start to walk out of the theater, only to pause and spin around to watch the transformation but, "Oh come on! That was way too quick."

Sun adjust the collar of his shirt, "You have better things to be worrying about, let's get going now, hm?"

"Yeah, yeah, you don't have to tell me twice."

You set off, walking through the busy Plex to Fazerblast. It's actually easier than you expected. No one questions why you and the Attendant are together, which is a nice change of pace from always being concerned about being caught. With the added factor and chaos of Halloween, it's no trouble, save for a few kids wanting pictures and candy. 

You run into Chica along the way, she's dressed up as Roxanne. While the chat is cheerful, it's also useful in confirming that yes, Freddy will be hosting a Halloween tournament in the next twenty minutes. It also confirms your fears. 

"I feel so bad for him! He's been practicing so much, even choosing to charge over there as opposed to his room the past few nights," Chica sighs, "And yet, he seems so tired, kind of out of it, you know? Not to mention his laser gun keeps causing problems..."

Sun and yourself share a glance but say nothing.

Chica waves her hand, "Well, don't let me keep you anymore, have fun you two!" She shoots a wink and a finger gun your wave and you look away, embarrassed.

As you walk off Sun questions it, "What was that about?"

"Nothing, don't worry about it," You shake your head, coughing, then notice how he's paused, optics dim, "What?"

His eyes brighten again, but his tone is grim, "Freddy's not responding over the FECN. And after discussing with the rabbit, he apparently hasn't for over an hour."

"I'm guessing that's not normal?" 

Sun shakes his head slowly.

You curse under your breath, "Come on, we're almost there and now we know we don't have any time to spare-"

Your hand is grabbed by someone, Abby you realize, "There you are! Come on, we just watched Pete dunk Jesse's head in the apple tank and now they're fighting."

"It was so funny, Bri's trying to break them up but I don't think it's going well," Savannah puts her hand on your shoulder, also guiding you along.

You glance back in time to see Sun get pat on the back by Liv as she follows after you three, grabbing the bot's arm, "You should join too! Come on!"

Your eyes meet Sun's and you think you share the same, slightly panicked look. You don't have time for the party. Knowing what you do about Freddy there's no telling what's going to happen at this tournament.

But you can't think of an excuse as an easy out and thus, you have no choice but to join in the festivities and look for a chance to escape in the meantime.

Thankfully, Sun seems to think the same way, not resisting as the two of you are paraded into the west arcade. 

The music's booming, people are chatting excitedly, and laughter is heard every so often. The decorations here are just are spooky as those throughout the Plex, cobwebs and bats and pumpkins hanging off railings and the ceiling and so on. 

Sure enough, you spy a soaking wet Jesse and Pete sitting across from each other by the stage. Tyler meanwhile, is chomping on an apple while leaning back against the stage, you see it’s one of several. He shoots you a ‘hang loose’ upon seeing you.

Bri is standing over the pair on the ground and appears to be scolding them. She perks up when she sees you arrive though.

"Well look what the cat dragged in!" She grins, giving you a brief hug, "And Sun! You look great!"

He mutters a quiet thank you as she continues to chat with him. Meanwhile you scan your surroundings for any kind of distraction to you get out of here.

"Looking for something?" Pete asks from below you, drawing you out of your worried thoughts. 

You glance down to him, "Just observing. What's the deal with you two and water?" You gesture between him and Jesse.

The later stops rubbing his hair with a pumpkin towel, "Pete thinks if he waterboards me it proves he's right."

"That is not true, you started it! He said my costume wasn't good," He looks to the other man on the ground, sneering "Which, by the way, yours is shit."

Jesse throws up his hands, half-dried cloth flailing in the air, "You're the one who picked it out for me, and did my makeup!"

They start bickering and Savannah comes up beside you again, shaking her head, "Ignore them, they're especially annoying tonight because they're both drinking."

"Not surprising."

She pats your shoulder, "Hey, I know it's a party and I really don't want to talk shop, but, I had a breakthrough with the trigger pins."

"Oh? I'm listening," You can't leave currently, might as well find a way to pass the time. 

"I snagged one of the faulty guns and just, took it apart to see what I could find, you know, quality engineer brain," She takes a sip of her drink, "And there's nothing wrong with it. The triggers are fine. It's a software issue, got to be."

Your eyes widen slightly, and it occurs to you what situation you might have on your hands here. 

Unfortunately, the lights cut before you can react. The emergency lights come on soon thereafter however, so the room's only in relative darkness. People seem slightly alarmed, but once someone boots up a generator and the music starts again, they settle. 

You hear a couple whistles behind you, and several compliments. 

"Woah! That transition was slick, and your costume looks great!"

A quiet, shy laugh, and, "Thank you, Officer Perry."

You turn, finding Moon standing in Sun's place. And, yet again, you've missed the change in costumes. Damn. 

But, you know a chance when it's put in front of you like this, and checking the time you see you've got a little under ten minutes. 

You walk over to the bot who's still getting many compliments and take his hand, looking up to him, "Come with me to get a drink."

He nods, and giving a wave to your friends, you head off. 

"I don't believe this is the time for beverages, Pandora."

When you get far enough away you stop, turning to him, "I know. Just needed an excuse. Hopefully they'll buy it." You realize you're still holding his hand and quickly let it go, mumbling an apology.

You notice he seems on edge.

"What's wrong now?" You're almost afraid to ask.

"Freddy has been, removed, from the FECN."

"But the last time something like that happened-" You stop, swallowing your fear, "How fast can you get down there?"

Moon chuckles, "Depends on how much you trust me, Diana. And how strong your grip is."

You find out what he means as you're rushing through the rafters and the halls and over balconies to get to the laser tag area. You hold on for dear life, only able to hear the whooshing of air as Moon carries you.

"You're quicker than I thought!" You say over the noise.

You feel his chuckle more than hear it, "Is that a compliment?"

"You can take it as one, how's that?" You squeak and huddle closer to him when you drop from one railing to another.

"Still bitter about my costume change?"

You take the provided distraction, "You're hiding a modern engineering feat from me on purpose. That's cruel. Something I'd expect Sun to do to me, not you, Moon-man."

"You think so highly of me," He beams, "I'll keep that in mind for future use."

The conversation helps ease you a little. You don't think he would drop you, intentionally or unintentionally, but his secure hold along with teasing words offers you a bit of comfort as you worry over what you'll find once you arrive at Fazerblast. 

When you arrive in the staff hallway, it's as dark as anywhere else, only emergency lights being the way to see. It's enough, however, for Sun to reappear. 

"Still no sign of him?" You ask as you walk over to the door. 

You hear a click or two, "No, not yet-"

Suddenly, before you can get out your keycard you're pressed back into the door, Sun's body covering yours as he uses a hand to shield you. 

"What?"

His tone is low, pointed, "We're not alone."

You peek through the gap between his other arm and the wall. Sure enough, under one of the red lights down the hall, there stands a figure. You think it must be Rabbit Lady. Though, she looks different. 

Covered in shadow, it's hard to make out her features, but her build looks much bulkier than usual. More like Bonnie. It's decrepit as well.

Gaps in her costume that look like they've been torn away, small strands of something poking out at odd angles in spots. Her eyes are two small, purple pupils which stare you down. 

A sound from the opposite end of the hall, you both turn to see another shadowed individual standing at the edge of the light. This one, you don't know who, or what they are. Also bulky, but more human in stature. One of their hands is a giant claw though, and their pigtails look like they're made of thick cables and not hair. Their pupils are green.

There's a smell of smoke in the air. But it's, faded.

"Unlock the door," Sun mutters.

 You nod shakily and fumble in your pocket for the keycard. No movement from anyone. You slowly start to raise the keycard by your side.

There's a noise from down the hall. Rabbit lady-that has to her right? what who else could it be?-has taken a step forward. A sound from the other side of the hall. Pigtails has also taken a step.

In a moment's hesitation, you drop your keys and they clatter to the floor. 

"Shit-"

Both figures start rushing towards you and you fumble to snatch up your keys in time. Just as you grab them Sun takes hold of you to shelter you. You hear both of them rush closer and realize it's too late.

You squeeze your eyes shut when there's a loud noise of something booting up. Opening your eyes, you find the lights are back on, and the figures are gone. Like they were never there in the first place. Like,

"Ghosts..." You whisper. 

Sum murmurs in agreement at first, then shakes his head.

"Ghosts aren't real." He states, releasing you.

"Okay then how do you explain that?" You motion to how the hallway is completely empty save for the two of you.

His rays click, "I can't. But we don't have time for this, hurry now, before it's too late."

You huff, but nod, unlocking the door and rushing inside. 

Fazerblast is up and running, and you spy everyone gathered around in the center of the arena. The contest hasn’t started yet. More importantly you spy,

"Freddy!" You rush over, Sun in tow. 

He turns to face you both, zombie costume doing nothing to hide his friendly demeanor, "Hello Y/N! Hello Sun! What are you both doing here? Have you come to join laser tag?"

"I, you, you're okay?" You're slightly out of breath, and confused. Very confused. 

His brows furrow, "Well of course, should I not be?"

"Friend, you're not on the FECN," Sun steps forward and puts his hand on the shorter bot's shoulder, "No one could contact you, we were all so worried!"

Freddy's eyes widen, "Ah, I forgot! Lizzy removed my access for the time being to save my battery for the competition! It will be restored once it is over."

You feel a bit relieved, and you can tell by how Sun's posture relaxes he does too. But still, you need clarification.

"Chica said you haven't been yourself lately, would that be why?"

The bear looks down, hand coming up to scratch his neck, "I... have not been charging properly the past few days due to improper power flow to the charging station. I was so focused on preparing that I did not realize I wasn't getting enough rest until they informed me of the issue. I am sorry for making you all worry."

"No trouble at all, Friend!" Sun steps back to stand beside you, "We're just glad you're alright!"

Sometimes you forget how nice he can be. Your eyes a squint as he puts a hand on your shoulder. But then you snap out of it and shake your head, turning back to the bear in front of you.

"So wait, would that be what caused the issues with the staff bots? Just faulty charging stations?" The fact that it's not related to the previous issues, that it's not even a glitch, has you relieved.

"Not quite."

You turn, and see Lizzy standing there, holding something covered by a white cloth. Their hair is manic, and they're covered in cobwebs and grime from head to toe. You cringe, at least they're wearing coveralls. 

They approach, "Figured out the source of all our issues. Want to take a guess?"

"Have anything to do with that there?" You nod to the white sheet. 

"Oh yeah."

They remove the sheet, revealing a cage filled with-

"Mice?" You and Sun both question. 

Lizzy looks ready to lose their mind, "Yup. I know. Turns out, there's a crawlspace behind where all the machinery is for this place and these little guys," They lift the cage, "Decided to make it their home. Then when they got tired of that, they thought that the generators running Fazerblast would make for a great sub-division to their mousey-neighborhood. You have no idea the number of mice nests I've cleared out of there. Not to mention the number of wires I'm going to have to finish replacing that they chewed through."

"So, it's not related to the mechanics, or the software at all," You say in awe, "Just the power, and some mice."

"And some mice," Lizzy repeats, sighing, "So, so many mice."

You look up to Sun, he looks down to you.

"Huh." "Huh."

You're half out of it when you stumble back into the party upstairs. You brought the Attendant with you because, well you don't really know but you're both here now.

You find your friends in front of the stage, who greet you as you arrive. 

"Long time for a drink," Bri quips, "You get lost?"

You laugh weakly, "Something like that."

"You're just in time for the contest results!" Liv exclaims before turning back to the stage.

You sigh, leaning back onto the bot behind you, not caring if it bothers him, "Oh goody."

Sun huffs, but allows you to stay leaning against him while Abby gives her brief spiel on stage before announcing the runner ups and then the winners.

"And in second place, in a surprise entry, but with many votes, we have the Daycare Attendant! Congratulations, Sun!"

People start cheering and clapping and you stand straight, shocked.

"You're joking."

Abby speaks up again, "And in third place, with their killer Frankenstein's monster costume, Y/N!"

"You're joking."

Sun snickers quietly behind you as the two of you are ushered onto the stage beside your friend. You do your best to hide your complete and utter disbelief and frustration.

You're handed a sack of chocolate coins, you're too mad to pay attention to what Sun's prize is. His head is held high, waving and posing and it makes you want to throttle him.

Abby clears he throat, "But of course, we still have first place, which goes to, none other than the other Daycare Attendant, Moon!"

"What."

You bust out laughing, and continue to do so as the lights dim to only a few blue and purple ones remaining, allowing the Naptime Attendant to claim his prize. After the ups and downs of tonight, you'd consider this a pretty good way to end it.

"So," You pop another chocolate coin in your mouth, "You don't think those were ghosts?"

You're sitting on the floor of the Daycare, an hour or so later. Halloween night isn't over yet, but it's starting to wind down. A few straggling kids run through the Daycare here and there, and Mia and Carter are finishing out with the trick or treaters. 

Your sister is asleep, laying partly in your lap. Gabe is still awake, but his eyes are drooping as he plays blocks with Sun. 

The Attendant looks up from his task, scoffing, "Don't be ridiculous, of course they weren't."

"Okay, well we aren't in a panic situation anymore, so give me an explanation."

His rays spin, staring at you, then glances back down to your brother, "I don't have one."

"Ha!"

"Yet. There's a logical explanation to what we saw, I'm sure of it." He shakes his head a smidge, muttering, "There must be..."

You crumple the gold wrapper in your hand, flicking it so it hits square in the middle of his faceplate, "Well, we thought Rabbit Lady was causing the glitches, and it was just a couple of mice, so I guess anything is possible."

He nods. Then, reaches behind him, holding out two items stacked on top of each other. A folded up t-shirt, and a mug. The second and first place prizes for the costume contest, respectively.

"Here. These are useless to us. You should have them."

You're, incredibly surprised.

"I, wouldn't you want to give them to someone like Bri? Or maybe one of the kids?" Sure it was just silly prizes, but still. It's, kind of flattering? You don’t know how to feel, really.

Sun shakes his head, urging you to grab the items, "You're the only one that makes sense. Take them before I change my mind on the shirt."

"Okay, okay," You do, and after maneuvering around your sleeping sister, switch out your coat and undershirt for the orange t-shirt. It has print on it for 'Fazbear Frights'. You forgot that attraction even existed until you saw the shirt.

You finish putting it on and fix your hair, "Well?" 

Sun stares down at you, rays clicking. You raise a brow. 

"You know, I think it probably would look better on me."

You gasp, and he snickers, narrowly dodging your hand as you swat at him, before hitting him with more crumpled wrappers that were laying around, ignoring his complaints about needing to 'clean up'. 

All in all, not a bad Halloween. 

Maybe, just maybe, one of the best.

Maybe.

🎃☀️🎃🌙🎃☀️🎃🌙🎃☀️🎃🌙🎃☀️🎃🌙🎃

And there you have it, my written spooky month content is done! I have to finish my trick or treat asks, but that'll be it. Though, there is of course, the OTHER things on the spookvember schedule, wonder what they could possibly be referrring to?? 🤔🤔

Ah, you'll find out soon enough, thanks for reading!!

Also, before I go, THE GHOSTS ARE JUST GHOSTS AND HAVE NO DEEPER MEANING IN RELATION TO CONFUSED SPIRIT, they're just here to add to the suspense and the spookiness I promise

on another note totally DONT read into that pause from Sun

[ipleadbritney]

could we please have ↻ FLIP FLOP for the first kiss scene in three-sixteenths???

thank you dear!!! 💕

- kitty 💕 (aka three-sixteenths’ biggest fan)

for @utopiastri who's really the sweetest!! ask game post here thank you for letting me revisit three-sixteenths in oscar's pov!!

3/16 the first kiss, flip flop

“Uncomfortable?” Lando repeats. 

“With my magic. I don't want to make you throw up, or, you know.”

Oscar himself is one wrong move away from throwing up, actually. Yesterday threw him in for a spinner. Every time he blinks, he conjures up the walls of Monaco around him, waiting and waiting. 

He hoped to get some rest today, to let his magic stretch over the new place. Nico Rosberg mentioned in an interview once how telekinesis in Monaco is different. Everything's lighter. Oscar wouldn't mind trying it. 

But Lando called, and, well. Oscar was already skimming teleportation crash guides in the middle of their call.

Lando and curses is a horrible combination. It's taking everything in Oscar not to panic.

Lando clears his throat. “I asked you to come here so you could probe at it. And I'm not throwing up. Magic reflects the person, right? I answered your call for a reason, and I'm glad I did.”

How can Oscar not panic when Lando just says the sweetest things like it's nothing?

But someone has to be calm between the two of them, and Oscar's not going to pass the responsibility on the person who's cursed.

He rubs at the empty space where his suppressor usually is. Calm down. “I'm glad you answered my call, Lando. I really am.” 

Better him than anyone else. If Oscar's right, then—

True Love's Kiss is a powerful spell that has wavered in popularity in recent decades. Most historians agree it is common for any spell to have crests and troughs. This particular case, however, has stumped some of the wisest living magical minds. 

Has humanity polluted our world to the point of a Great Spell extinction? Do we even need True Love's Kiss anymore?

Oscar forces a smile, ignoring his thoughts. Not much a textbook can help them with, right?

Lando smiles back. Oscar loosens up. 

Maybe it's not True Love's Kiss. 

What if it is?

It doesn't have to be. Oscar can just kiss Lando right now. Fix the curse after. Free Lando's wrist. Explain somehow along the way that he like Lando enough to think he'd break True Love's Kiss if it came down to it.

It won't. 

Lando's phone vibrates and lights up with a text notification. Oscar barely makes out the name Charlie. 

“Aren't you going to read that?” Oscar asks.

Lando shakes his head, still smiling. Dazed. “No, it's probably a stupid notif—” he checks his phone “—fucking finally, Charlie's awake.”

He's mouthing the words as he reads them, something that hasn't escaped Oscar. Cute, of course, but also. The text can't be that long. 

Lando sits up straighter. He's re-reading the text. Again and again.

Worry's bubbling up inside Oscar. Unfortunately, his worries have a nasty way of materializing through his magic.

So does Lando's. There's buzzing in the air, like static TV.

He tightens the control on his magic. He won't be of any help to Lando if he's a mess on his own.

After what must've been the 20th re-read, Oscar asks, “What did Charles say?”

“I need to kiss someone Italian. To break the curse, I need to kiss someone Italian.”

Lando all but throws his phone to Oscar for him to check. Charles’ texts confirm Oscar's suspicions, or at least part of it. Being right is such an overrated emotion. 

Can TLKs be bound by other conditions apart from the whole yeah you're my one true love? Kiss-curses that aren't TLK are even rarer. Leave it up to the Monaco Grand Prix to attract generational magic users who can randomly cast a kiss-curse.

What if Charles misheard it? Misunderstood. Mistranslated. 

What if he didn't?

“I hoped it would be different,” Oscar starts. “Not that you'll have a hard time finding someone Italian to kiss, no, but uh, Sophie will have our heads. Because it'll cause a riot, maybe. Then they'll resurrect us so Sophie can have our heads again.”

Please let the floor swallow Oscar whole.

“Thanks, I guess?” Lando says, and his face is so open, you can see every single emotion he's feeling right now. 

Oscar wonders if Lando can read him the same way. Like how he's no longer surprised when Oscar sticks close to him in public, anticipates it. Leaves a little bit of space for Oscar to slide through. It's the type of understanding and clarity Oscar's always wanted.

“You know, I'm 3/16 Italian,” Oscar blurts out. 

Lando half-splutters, half-laughs. “You don't have to cheer me up, Osc."

“I didn't say it to just cheer you up. I'm here to help. That's why I'm here, yeah?”

For the first time since coming here— which is the first time he's ever been in Lando's apartment and everything is Lando Lando Lando —Oscar's mind is clear. 

“Reckon it'll work?” 

“Won't know if we won't try."

Oscar can still backtrack. He can salvage the threads of their professional relationship. Nevermind that their professionalism has turned into Lando practically sitting on his lap during meetings because his seat doesn't “seat right”. 

But Lando's beaming. “Sure. Let's do it.”

Huh. It can't be that easy. It can only be that easy if Lando likes Oscar back. He doesn't. Probably. “Oh, okay.”

Nothing happens. Is it up to Oscar? Well, Lando's handcuffed to his bed, so. Oscar needs to, good God. Oscar needs to.

“Do you think it's supposed to be, like…” Oscar took three magic-related electives and none of them talked about breaking possible kiss-curses.

“Kiss on the mouth?” Lando’s smile grows even wider. Does he? Like Oscar back? “You're the magic nerd here.”

“I'm really not.”

“Go big or go home,” Lando says.

Suddenly Lando hooks a finger on Oscar's collar and pulls him closer. Oscar kneels in front of Lando, one of his legs bracketed by Lando's thighs. Lando's pretty like this, looking up at Oscar. 

Oscar touches Lando's cheek. “This okay?” he murmurs.

Lando closes his eyes and leans into his touch. Nods.

Oscar presses a soft kiss on Lando's mouth. The buzzing's gone, has been for a long time, maybe. 

He pulls back just the slightest, but Lando's kissing him. Oscar is reeled right back in, deeper this time. Lando holds him by his waist. Gentle but secure.

Oscar's dreamt of this before, but those didn't. Get the details correct. Lando's sighs. His taste. His magic.

Fuck, Oscar's own magic. He can feel it slipping out of his control.

Lando parts open his mouth, a permission for Oscar to take. How much can Oscar take? How much is he willing to take?

There's a clicking sound and a wash of strange magic, bursting then fading away.

The handcuffs. Oscar almost forgot about that. 

They move apart, which is a bit hard with Lando's fingers curled up in his shirt.

The curse leaves behind a cloud of gold and green glitter. A few specks land on Lando's nose then melt off. 

“I'll call you first if I ever get cursed again,” Lando says, laughing. There's a halo surrounding his head. Oscar's magic. 

“I'm 1/16 Chinese.” He returns to his spot at the foot of the bed. “Call me even if you're not cursed?” 

“Don't jinx it, mate.”

Oscar's not going to jinx it. No hexes or curses or any love spells, either. He doesn't trust his magic to not influence Lando. He puts his suppressor on, and it sucks the fucking air out of the room. 

“Sorry,” he tells Lando. “It's, I've got my suppressor back on.”

“Yeah, why?”

“Broke the curse already, didn't we?”

Lando tilts his head, assessing. “We did.”

What do they do now? 

Lando takes the lead, as he usually does. “Want lunch? I'll reserve us a spot, so don't leave. Give me, like, 15.”

As if Oscar would ever say no to lunch with Lando. “I'd like that, sure. Let's get lunch.”

If it hadn't been a kiss-curse, they would've probably kissed some more. Oscar tries not to be too hung up about it.

[privatebooth]

When they get back together Hawke doesn't rush to be intimate with Fenris. The two are very affectionate, hugging, kissing and touching each other with no restraint, but Hawke never initiates or insists on anything more (even when Fenris doesn't seem to mind it).

He is a little bit worried about the possibility of Fenris feeling guilty about their breakup and the three years of time wasted, and fears that Fenris may feel obliged to please Hawke, doing something he doesn't really want to do. He knows that Fenris is not entirely free of his slave mentality, and wants to help him work through it (but remain subtle about it). I just have a lot of feelings about Fenris giving friendship points for reminding the world on his behalf that he is not a slave, like he needs constant reminders and reassurence ;_;

So Hawke simply wants Fenris to make the first move and make it explicitly clear what he wants.

However Fenris is confused at first. They've had a number of encounters that by all accounts (in Fen's mind) should have led to sex. Fenris gives it some thought.

At this point he has no doubt that Hawke cares deeply about him and wants to be with him. He concludes that Hawke, burned by the experience of their first time, is afraid of scaring Fenris off by being pushy. He might even assume that Fenris finds sex off-putting? And because Hawke was always painfully understanding, considerate and supportive of Fenris, he thinks it totally like Hawke to put Fenris's wellbeing before his own wants.

Fenris finds it endearing, but a little frustrating. He's a free man now, and wants to have what a free man can have. He wants to get all and everything out of his relationship with Hawke, including sex. Yet he doesn't dare to start something himself because... Should he? Is it really his place to do so? He decides that he can at least tell Hawke that he doesn't need this kind of coddling. He can and he should. He knows in his heart that Hawke will understand! Fenris seriously struggles to find the words to bring up the issue, so he decides to act.

The next time they return to Hawke's mansion after another battle they bath (separately) and clean up. Hawke lets Fenris finish first, then goes himself. Fenris tries to remain calm awaiting Hawke's return - naked, holding the used towel that covers nothing.

When Hawke appears he is surprised by the sight and can't look away.

If there were any lingering doubt (like what if it's something else? What if there is something you don't know?) Hawke's awestruck expression erases all trace of it and fills Fenris with confidence. He ditches the towel altogether and approaches Hawke without a hint of constraint.

He says that he'd been thinking on how to get Hawke's attention, explains that for some time now he's been dreaming of feeling Hawke's touch again (Fenris takes Hawke's hand and decidedly puts it on his chest and places his own hand above Hawke's heart). He states that he still very much wants Hawke to touch him, wants to feel him inside, yet Hawke doesn't seem particularly interested. Matter-of-factly he wonders if perhaps Hawke doesn't want him anymore.

They keep touching, remembering the not forgotten feel of each other's bare skin. It's been so long! Hawke is very happy to know that Fenris isn't shy about speaking his mind and that he acted on his own. In the softest tone that he can manage he says

I'll never not want you.

With a mischievious smile he adds Just say the word.

He probably makes some joke about him having wanted to be seduced by Fenris.

Fenris looks him in the eye and says

I am yours, so take me.

Hawke thinks to himself Close enough. This will have to do for now. It's a start.

Then they kiss and Hawke sweeps Fenris off his feet because it needs to happen at least once!

I think this takes place after that convo where Varric brings up the subject, and Hawke was inspired by his idea. Probably thought it would be cool)

[quinngefail]

Is Lawrence a “no Adam, we are not keeping the stray cat you found” but then immediately falls in love with the cat type guy. Is he. I need to know

SHAKING

💥 Rambling Beast Incoming 💥 Because I will not lie. I've thought about this a lot LMAO

I am also putting a cut. Because this got to be way longer than anticipated, and also slowly pivots into just being a short fic HRKGMGKGK......

But uh I've imagined that the conversation came up during a late night. They'd been staying together, and just being together for a few months now. They have a lot of conversations that revolve around just asking each other about all sorts of things, getting to know one another more and more. And just being able to freely ask things that certainly weren't important during their six hours in hell. 'Getting to know you's in significantly less stressful environments, basically.

At some point that night, Lawrence asks Adam what some things on his bucket list are. Adam gets a little flustered, and sorta mumbles, "I promise it's nothing that exciting."

But of course, Lawrence wants to hear anyway. Doesn't matter if it's 'I want to have a concert on the moon', or 'I want to find a lucky penny on the subway'. He just wants to hear anything and everything from this man, no matter what Adam's harsh inner voice may repeatedly insist.

So Adam begins to explain one of the biggest things on that list, which is that he's just always wanted a pet. A cat, specifically, as they're his favorite. Because even in a world where his parents could have afforded to take care of one, they wouldn't have anyway. They both just did not care for animals, and weren't exactly hesitant to very bluntly express their disdain for them, in far less kind words. And even if Adam had been existing on his own for about 6-7 years now, he certainly wasn't ever in a comfortable enough financial state to take care of a pet. And he could truly never forgive himself if he was the reason for any amount of harm coming to something that was so innocently dependant on him... The man who had struggled to feed even himself.

So, he had just shoved that idea to the back of his mind. But the longing never stopped, of course.

Once he's finished, Lawrence gives a saddened nod, and offers his sympathetic words. But, there's a few moments of silence before he perks up a bit. Why don't they just get one, then.

Adam blinks a few times in surprise, but he can't keep a little smile from creeping up his face.

"Well, you know I'm not going to say no to that," he responds. "But only if you're really okay with having a little bastard running around your place,"

Lawrence first starts with a dry chuckle. "Oh, I don't think I'm a stranger to that anymore, darling. In fact, I'm rather acquainted with the little hellion I've already welcomed into my home. And you know, I am quite fond of him."

Adam's smile only grows larger, and more crooked, as he rolls his eyes. "Yeah okay, whatever, asshole." But it's only a second or two before their shared laughter fills the bedroom.

"Well, it'll certainly be loved." Lawrence remarks in the lull of their banter. "And completely spoiled."

"Oh, abso-fuckin'-lutely." Adam nods, cracking a cocky smirk. "It'll have no idea that I've been waiting 20 some years for this shit. Poor bastard's in for of some of the most obnoxious, sappy, lovey dovey shit ever. It'll hate us so much."

"Oh yes, nothing but malice towards us. It'll want us both dead." Lawrence smiles back. "Well, we can start looking around for our unlucky candidate tomorrow, if you'd like."

"Fuck yeah," Adam grins, curling both hands into eager fists. Really though, on the inside, he was running rapid, ecstatic laps around his brain.

His ass was not going to be able to sleep tonight.

"...And thank you," he quietly adds, highly masking just how much he wanted to repeat his gratitude again, and again, and again, and again- though, he was sure this masking was to limited success, for the shaking of his hands were at least one thing that currently betrayed him-

"Of course, Adam."

Their hands then find one another, and squeeze... One shaking hand unable to keep itself from squeezing down hard.

~~~

AND THEN...... THERE WERE CATS !! >:3

And they are indeed spoiled rotten and deeply loved by the both of them LMAO

[jellyj777]

04; Kiss? | THE PATIENT

THE PATIENT | Book | Ch04;Kiss?

JungkookxReader (smut/fluff/angst)

— Falling in love with a patient in an asylum might not be everyone's tea but you had a thing to fix something you never broke at first place.

Words: 4.8k+

TROPES:: One sided hate, Therapist Au.

SYNOPSIS:: —"Don't trust me, Believe in me"

WARNINGS:: Talk about abuse, Violence ahead, explicit language, Anger issues

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Seok: I'm nervous as fuck, Y/N.

Seok: Send help T-T.

You chuckle at the emoticon he used. Silly funny guy.

You: It's not your first time, don't worry too much ffs.

You: Haven't you been doing this for like five years now?

Seok: So?! That doesn't mean I can't get nervous.

There are new interns at our place this for this meeting, like five or six more, definitely more than last time. True. New university students always join to get their internships to become future nurses or doctors but what confuses you is that why is Hoseok nervous?

Out of all the doctors in this place, you have never seen Hoseok nervous before well that is because he never is. He has always presented whenever these meetings happened and he was never nervous. Always smiley with his tone and words.

You: It's not your first time, stop worrying too much. We're all there for you, Seok. I'd be sitting in front.

Seok: You better be ready for my glare.

Seok: I'll be staring at you while explaining the crowd. Makes it easy ^_^

You roll your eyes and swing on the chair with your back slumped against the same, makes you curious of his topic. He didn't talk about it like he always does before the presentation.

You: Whatever, if that helps you then do so.

You: What's your topic anyways? Thought you've been researching for days now.

Seok: Bipolar Disorder

Seok: We got a new patient with it and I researched for the nurses to learn about the symptoms and stuff.

Bipolar Disorder. Good one and would help the nurses to learn more about the disease.

You: Oh that's cool. I'll see you in the meeting room.

You: You got this!!

<Seok liked a message you sent>

Seok: Thxx.

Seok: See u.

Putting your phone down, you get up from your seat to make your way out of the clinic. The clinic named under your name in the hospital designed with little things of yours just for the sake of your own mental health.

It's not easy to work in hospital especially as a nurse or a doctor. Especially when you can get slapped before by a patient, saying by the experience while you were working as a nurse doing mainly your internship. It's only been three years since you became a doctor in your department before that life, as a nurse, it wasn't easy at all.

Being a nurse in a mental hospital can be something which is risky for your own mental health too, you're surely aware of how stressful these types of meetings can be from a doctor's and a nurse's perspective. You remember the time when you were a nurse and Hoseok was one of the doctors back then.

He is always cheerful with the staff (the position of the staff doesn't matter) and made the place better than the emotional hell rollercoaster it was, but it amazes you how Hoseok is such a nice doctor even though he has witnessed a lot of bad stuff happening with his patients, done by the patients themselves.

Hoseok is one strong man that you know. Emotionally of course and on physical matters, it truly depends. You're aware how hard it can be to cope up with a patient's pain. Again, with experience.

He was the patient for you at that time. Left quite an impression on you to be honest.

A shrill like scream echoed in the hallway taking you out of your thoughts. The nurses rush towards the sound of the scream and with a frown, you follow along with the nurses. Not confused, just surprised at the sudden outburst. It wasn't uncommon to hear these types of shrills, screams, cries in the hospital building.

Many patients had different illnesses meaning that they have different hallucinations regarding the same. You walk past Jungkook's room who was looking out of the window with his one hand fiddling with elastic as he stretches the elastic out and another 'pop' sound in the room of his.

The sound of the elastic pop echoes. Not in the room but in his mind. Didn't even pay attention to the scream. Too busy with his own thoughts.

"Shit." You murmur and walk past the nurses to look at one of your patients who was laying on the floor with blood oozing of their wrist. "Bring the medic kit."

One of the nurses nod and rush away to bring the kit. Your hand wrapped around the wrist of the patient, mouth leaving comforting words that everything's gonna be fine.

Ji a. A patient who had ED. Suffered from the societal norms of getting fat-shammed in her early teens now in her late 20s has self-harm as her coping defense mechanism and is suffering from malnutrition.

Her other hand held the butter knife. It's actually phenomenal how some patients have found a way to do self harm without any materials provided to them.

You grab the butter knife and throw it away while one of the nurses clean up the wound and the other injects the injection through her forearm which makes her hiss. Ji a cried loud and clear letting you know she's in pain, in pain with the thing that she caused herself.

"It's fine, everything's gonna be fine..." your voice trails off in Ji a's mind, her head drops with a 'thud' on your lap, eyes closed and all the uneasiness washes away.

With a sigh, you get up after Ji a is safely tucked into bed and one of the helping hands walks in the mop to clean the blood from the floor.

"Doc. Mun, your coat..." The nurse points at your coat which had splash of bloods on it. Would leave a stain for sure but it was nonetheless than unusual. A little stain of blood is something every doctor is used to in here due to some of the patients.

"It's fine," you reassure and shrug it off but speak up again, "but what's not fine is that who forgot the butter knife."

The tension among the nurses infront of you rises as no one answers. "I just want to know who forgot it, no big consequences will be taken. Mistakes are tend to happen." You repeat, wanting the person who left the knife to admit without feeling scared, of course mistakes are tend to happen and a lesson should be taught so that it doesn't occur again.

Finally, a nurse steps in front, someone who you haven't seen before. You tilt your eyebrows upwards with a head tilt. "Was it you?" You ask. She nods.

"Everyone, make sure Ji a is fast asleep and check up the place again," You pause and point at the small closet beside the bed. "Make sure to check the cupboard, under the bed and anything that can help in self-harming should be removed."

The nurses nod and get to work, with squinted eyes you read the new nurse's name 'Sarah'. "And Sarah, please be at my office after checking up."

Sarah nods and waits for you to walk out. With a final look around the room, the other patient looking frightened by the encounter is now being comforted by the nurse. You walk out of the room to change your blood stained coat.

First time this week, new achievement for the year as it's Wednesday and it's only the first time blood got stained on your coat.

After changing your coat in the changing room for staff only, you make your way back to your clinic where Sarah was waiting out looking nervous, her gaze fixed on the pillar in front and wasn't even trying to look for you until your eyes meet. You gesture her to get in to which she nods, passes you a nervous smile, makes you reciprocate with your soft one.

The moment you both step, the awkward silence burns in the air, being the doctor you were and the senior one, it meant you're supposed to start the conversation. "I won't scold you," you start breaking the uneasiness and clear your throat. "Mistakes happen but you should be considerate with the choices you're providing for the patients."

Sarah nods, "I know, I'm so sorry, Doctor Mun. I just got transferred from a hospital to here and it's different. This is not an excuse for my behavior but it won't repeat again."

You're glad she took responsibility for her issue and it's normal to make mistakes. We're all just humans after all. "Um, I didn't know what illness was Ji a suffering from." She murmurs again quietly.

Your eyerbrows crease together, "What do you mean that you're not aware of what Ji a's suffering from?" You ask clearly confused by her statement. How can a nurse who is given a patient can't know the diagnosis of the patient.

"I mean, nobody told me. I'm telling you Doctor Mun, I'm new to the place." She pauses awkwardly fidgeting with her hands before she continues again not sure if the words she'll propose are correct. "I got transferred from a normal hospital with normal patients to this horrendous place."

"Horrendous? Excuse me." You scoff and fold your arms in front of your chest. Calling a helping hospital for patients who did not even want a specific diagnosis horrendous is crazy. This is not the correct vocab you'll use for this place.

At least not horrendous.

Sarah just shrugs her shoulders again looking uncomfortable for this conversation. "I said what I said, it's just new to me" She states again, staying stuck to her ground.

"Listen, I understand it's new to you but you cannot call a hospital — any kind — horrendous. Please improve your vocab cause I won't be tolerating this kind of language in a workplace where we are the helping hands for citizens. Understood?"

She nods, so you continue. "If you find this place being hard for you to handle please transfer to another hospital and the mistake that happened today should not be repeated. If you need any help with knowing some diagnosis, you can always come to my office, got it?"

"Yes, Doctor Mun." She nods again as you gesture her to leave with a small smile which she reciprocates and bows before leaving the room.

The lights shut off in the presentation room with projector being the only source of light at the moment, Hoseok clears his throat with a smile, his eyes the room and ended up landing it at you just like he promised.

"Hello everyone," he starts. "I'm Doctor. Jung for many of you who are new to the department or are doing their internships in here for future doctors or nurses. This is the meeting room where the doctors will knowledge you about general topics which can help you to learn more about the patients, I'll be starting today by talking about Bipolar Disorder as mentioned in the slide of the presentation."

He points at the screen behind him with his hand, there were total of six nurses in the room with three new interns and three doctors including you. You sat beside Dr. Kim, eyes locked in the front with your focus on the presentation.

These meetings are basically for new people in the hospital or even the old nurses who want to learn more about mental health diagnosis. You were basically here to support Hoseok knowing he returns the favor by coming to your presentations too, you already knew about bipolar disorder but supporting your friend is more important in this situation.

"Bipolar disorder is something that society believes into happening with anger issues in someone. Yes, this can be right but there are different types of Bipolar diseases and not all of them occur due to anger issues." Hoseok clicks the 'enter' button on the keyboard as the slide moves to second page with ease.

The second slide contained of three partition graph of types of bipolar diseases; "Bipolar 1 is defined by maniac attacks which are last up to seven days which can severe in many cases leading the patient to be rushed to hospital." He speaks.

"How severe?" The previous nurse, Sarah asks just like before she looked genuinely confused. Not her fault to begin with, she had zero knowledge about mental health and her transfer here is something that is really funny in a way and you're sure Hoseok will give you the tea about her transfer later, that is making you curious in a way now.

"Very, that patients suffering from this specific type of diagnosis go through depressive and maniac attacks altogether." Hoseok replies as Sarah nods her and writes down in her notebook.

"The worst part about this specific type is that the person suffering from it can change their mood from being overly happy which can be included in mania," He points out so that the interns can write down. "and feeling overly down which can be categorized under depressive attacks."

"So, a person can feel happy and sad at the same time?" An intern asks.

"Yes and the emotions of roller coaster is so fast that the person doesn't even what's happening." He nods and moves to another slide, "The worst part is that the emotions of roller coasters are so high that people can even hallucinate or even get delusions."

"Hallucinations and Delusions? Can you give more specific example for this situation?" Sarah asks raising her arm as Hoseok nods back.

"People living with this disease can feel strange sensations like hearing or seeing something that was never there which is also known as hallucinations; They also seem to believe in irrational stuff which may seem irrelevant to other people. Also note down that this usually happens when a person is going through a maniac or depressive episode."

Sarah nods so Hoseok continues, "A person with bipolar may be unaware that they going with a maniac phase or episode which means, they might be shocked after their phase is over or would mainly not believe people that they actually did something like that. It sound surreal to them basically."

A nurse raises her hand as Hoseok points after to speak, "Is there any cure for this? Like fully cure? Can a person live normally again after being diagnosed with this disease?" She asks.

"Unfortunately no, a person cannot live normally again. Bipolar disease is something which is life long and a person will survive basically on meds their whole life. They would also get episodes out of nowhere and that is what the meds help them in." He shifts his weight form one leg to another, "Meds prescribes can help in reducing the hallucinations and helps in balancing out the happiness with sadness in  a person's life."

The next fifteen minutes went by Hoseok answering questions about the diagnosis and went much deeper about this topic. He took the questions and explained thoroughly with a smile and did not get annoyed at basic or even the most obvious questions. Thanks to his six years of training in being a doctor.

He later explained about this new patient who will be transferred here from another hospital next week, the patient was young and that is something uncommon in this specific disorder.

Bipolar can start from the earliest ages in childhood but children are often neglected thinking they are just acting up as kids or even in late 40s with anger and emotions build up. The guy who is being transferred is mere twenty-five and has been admitted since a year now.

"You did great as usual," You smile and pat Hoseok's back who walked beside you, the presentation ended five minutes ago and everyone went back to doing their work.

He shrugs with a proud smirk making you roll your eyes knowing he'll talk about his presentation for the next few hours at this point. He'll point out how good he was while talking about his topic even though this guy was glaring into your soul for the whole time. Was too nervous to even break eye contact. "You know I'm the best."

"Yeah, as if you weren't dyeing in there." You sarcastically comment with a sarcastic smug like smile.

"Ok, bae. I get you're jealous of my speaking skills." He grins walking into your clinic following you behind.

"Fuck off," You laugh and settle back in your chair putting the notes from today on the table, "What's up with the new nurse?"

"Who? Sarah?" He raises his eyebrows settling himself in front of you on the chair. Your hands fiddling on the table with the paperweight, your favorite thing to do in the world besides fixing stuff of course.

You nod, "Yeah, she even forgot butter knife in Ji a's room."

"Oh that was what the scream was about?" He asks, he knew about the patient Ji a, you told him about her condition and everything as he does the same bout his patients. He did in fact heard a scream when he was re-reading his notes for the nth time in front of the mirror but didn't pay much attention knowing it's really common for that to happen.

"Yeah," You reply.

"Hm, Sarah?" He hums again, head tilted upwards thinking about Sarah's transfer. "Oh, she got transferred here from Gwangju district." He answers, eyes back on you as he recalled the talk he had in the morning about new staff.

"Reason?" You raise an eyebrow at him.

"She was like too nice there and got transferred here. Apparently she'll take time with every patient which is a good thing but the amount of staff normal hospital has are less causing the work to be delayed." He answers.

You nod back even though you wanted to scoff at his but now it makes sense why Sarah got transferred here and being honest she doesn't look like the person Hoseok is describing. Maybe you need more time with her to get to know her fully.  

After having a talk with Hoseok for the next fifteen minutes, mostly him breaking down the tea he got from another department. Hosoek got up to leave for his clinic. Says a quick 'see you at lunch' and walks out of the clinic room.

You hum to the jazz music that was playing through the small speaker connected to you and go back to doing your work. The door opening catches you a little off guard cause no nurse was allowed to enter a doctor's clinic without permission. You look up and your eyes meet up with Jungkook who stood there in his hospital pajamas, his expression a little unfocused and haze.

"Jungkook?" You ask, he gulps and walks in the room closing the door behind. This was confusing cause what was he doing here if he's supposed to be in his room.

"I need help." He speaks and takes a seat in front of you. You pause the jazz music quick and look at him with curious yet confused eyes. You don't mean to sound rude but you won't currently be getting paid to listen to his rant but you'll welcome it the most if it meant to help him or any other patients in his position.

"Yes? What is it?" You ask back, focus on him now.

"I did a bad thing." He replies, voice soft and innocent unlike how it usually is.

"A bad thing?" You ask back with a smile keeping calm cause both of you can't be panicking.

He nods, "You know Ji a?" He asks as if you were unaware of her. His choice of question now made you more curious, confused of why he's asking if you know Ji a cause you're basically her caretaker and doctor.

"Yeah, what about her? Did you talk with her today?" You question back with a smile but the frown on your face was opposite from the tone of your voice, happy cause he made a friend, maybe? but he just nods and stays silent. His expression was guilty which made your smile fall getting the sign that it wasn't just a friendly chat.

Silence settle between you two as you wait for him to speak but he avoided your gaze. Okay! the hell you mean he'll walk in firstly without permission and then talk like he did a big ass crime and then not speaking at all. "You can tell me, I won't tell anyone, y'know?" You break the silence slowly with a whisper.

He gulps "She, um, came to me today and started talking." He speaks again trying his best to explain the situation. You nod back showing that you're listening to him and he can continue talking. "She kissed me." Jungkook sighs finally letting it out of his chest, doesn't want to roam around the situation that happened. He didn't fully trust you but believed in you that you won't tell anyone hopefully.

Your eyes widened and eyebrows raised very confused now. His head hung low after his confession thinking he did something bad. "I'm sorry, what?" You ask not quiet believing him.

"Yeah, she, um kissed me and I don't know how but she just came to me and started talking and then the next moment she kissed me." He states, panic filled his voice as he looks up again to meet your not believing gaze.

"So you both kissed?" You ask again, he nods and you nod too. You both are quiet again, silence takes over between you two. You didn't see anything bad in this, they just kissed. What's the bad thing about it? "Can you explain me what happened fully?" You ask.

"She came to me and showed me her wrist when I was going to the washroom. She had like bandage around it and then suddenly she kissed me!" He exclaims.

Okay. So the kiss just didn't happen, it happened without his permission which is crazy. In the three years of being a doctor this is not the first time you're hearing about a patient kissing the other, both of them haven't felt intimacy for years now. Longer for Jungkook more than it was for Ji a. You've found patient even fucking in the field so this wasn't the craziest thing you ever heard. What was crazy though that it was out of Jungkook's consent.

"You didn't wanted to kiss her?" You ask and he shakes his head proving that he in fact did not wanted to kiss Ji a. "So, why'd you think that you did the bad thing? You did nothing bad in this." You speak, tone soft keeping up with your phycology major. Thanks to the university teacher who made you find calm in any situation. Periodt. 

"I don't know but I didn't wanted to kiss her," He tried to explain shifting uncomfortably in his seat. It was clear sign that he didn't wanted to kiss Ji a but he wasn't sure how to say that in words.

"Uncomfortable?" You ask.

"Yeah, uncomfortable, it was out of nowhere and it fet so uneasy, more uneasy than the injections you guys give." He murmurs, nibbling on his lower lip.

"I'm sorry that happened, I'll talk Ji a and this would never happen again." You apologize, "Are you okay?"

He hesitates but nods; "I just... it's been a long time since I kissed someone or someone kissed me and it was a bit weird too."

"How long, hm? I'm so sorry, Jungkook that this happened to you. I promise this won't happen again." You murmur, a lump stuck jn your throat as you swallow. The feeling Jungkook must've felt must've been crazy to be honest and it was making you vulnerable even when you're thinking about it.

You're aware that Ji a is one of the patients and must have not been in her right mindset while doing something so serious. None of this excuses her behavior though, the way she luntched on Jungkook was clearly a sexual assault; doesn't matter if it was a small one.

"I don't like all this touching stuff," Jungkook declares hoping you'd understand his inability of being comfortable with touches. "And I haven't kissed anyone in a while so it really took me by surprise." He explains.

"I'll make sure it never happens again, Jungkook." You state with confident, this thing happening once was a big shock to you so it happening twice will be a big disappointment in it's own.

He nods, he believes you at least tries to you knowing you always stuck to your words. He gets up and was about to leave but stops in his tracks.

"Can I ask a favour, Doc?" He asks.

"Of course, anything. What is it?" You raise your eyebrows at him, now standing up from your chair so that you can drop Jungkook off to his room.

"Is there any way my room can be near your office?" He questions, voice low and slow almost a whisper. He said it as if it was a crime.

"Give me a second," You bite your bottom lip and bend down towards your computer to check if there's any rooms available nearby your clinic. "Hm, there's one room that was being renovated but it will take time."

He shrugs his shoulders, "I'm fine with the time taking, I just want to near your clinic so that I feel safe."

"Um, okay, I'll talk with someone and try my best to get you the room," You smile, standing up straight again. "Until then, just try to contact me or the nurses if something like this happens again."

He nods and walks out of your clinic with you behind him. The conversation towards his room was basically about his daily routine, about what he's eating nowadays or if he wants to try some new food or even fruits like last time. You got the feeling that he was still affected by the situation with Ji a which was quiet surprising cause Ji a has never thrown herself on to people moreover to kiss them.

She was very insecure about her looks, something that someone should not be but speaking generally out of her results, she was basically afraid to show herself to people. These fears led her to isolate herself from others, feeling conscious whenever someone looks at her, became a picky eater too.

You tried your best to make Jungkook feel safe, even if it was just a little. The effort put by you is enough to be noticed by Jungkook.

"Doc?" He starts, now sitting on his bed while you pour a cup of water for him and hum back to his questioning voice to answer. "Will you actually change my room?" He asks, yet again, a little conflicted and hesitant with his questions.

"I will try to, Jungkook." You hand him the glass of water, at least you'll try to change his room. If being honest, if not by you, you'll probably text another doctor in the department.

He nods and drinks his water; the tattoos on his arm were visible. Few inked tats here and there, to be honest, nobody knew what these tattoos on his right arm means. He never explained it to anyone; not even his friends or family or even the trusted doctors in the previous asylum and hospital he stayed at.

You'd love to ask him about the tattoos but that would be crossing the line. His tattoos were something which were present nowhere, not the documents, previous therapy sessions. Nothing.

"I'll let you know by tomorrow, okay?" You murmur, he nods in return before putting the now empty glass on the table beside his bed.

After making sure that he was all calm now, looked safe and after your reassurance he probably felt safe too. You leave the room quietly and the first thing that comes in your mind is CCTV footage. It's not like you didn't trust Jungkook. No. It's more like you wanted a reassurance yourself or confirmation if said in terms.

Seok: Wya?

You: Surveillance room; r you done with work?

Seok: Yea, lol.

Seok: Whatu doing there? 

Obvious question from an obvious guy. You rest your head on the table, cheek pressed with the table while your left hand angled and also pressed on the table to the side with your phone in your hand.

You: Getting some tea :P

Seok: Stopppp, actually?!?

The reaction was so expected. You chuckle and sit up after seeing the notification pop up on top of Hoseok's message.

You: Gonna tell you tom, gtg, Kim's calling !!

Seok: C'monnn don't leave me hanging :(

wattpad:CH04 (read on wattpad)

A/N:

taglist; @seokout @khadeeeeej @bybyash ‘to be added in the taglist : 🏷️’

thank you for supporting 'TP' or 'THE PATIENT' ! Here's an update after so long; I got so busy with my life :<. Anyways, love you and have an amazing day ! This chapter is the longest i’ve wrote till now and i got too lazy to even edit it cuz too much reading and i’ve re-read it a millions times already lol, should i post the smut taexreader that wasn’t written in chap 3 or not!?

[mariacallous]

hi i'm sorry to ask you this, i know it's not really your job but i was hoping maybe you or your followers had some ideas. i want to get involved with local activism at the grassroots level. however i am autistic and, crucially, i look like it. people can tell there's something visibly "off" about me before i even speak. and when i say "off" i mean, i'm not just weird-looking or different, but that even though i am not intellectually disabled, i do kind of look like i am. i am also just not good at wording myself or explaining myself, especially around issues important to me. this is not just something that happens with magas or conservatives; even a lot of liberals/leftists who agree with me on 90% of issues often don't take me seriously or brush me aside when i try to make suggestions, and i worry about turning people off of causes important to me because i explain myself so badly or because i'm just an [r-slur] and can't know what i'm talking about. i am doing what i can to build better communication skills so i can talk to people about things better by watching and studying how people around me speak to each other, watching and studying how politicians speak to normal people on youtube/the news, taking public speaking classes at my local community college, and practicing talking to people in low-risk situations like small talk. but realistically i think building these kind of skills will probably take months or even years. i was wondering if there's any kind of role in outreach or grassroots-level activism for someone who is REALLY bad at communicating, to the point they can turn off people who already mostly agree with them? i feel isolated from a lot of other openly autistic people in my area because they're the kind of "bernie should have won and now since he didn't i'm not going to do anything" doomers i find annoying so i'd prefer suggestions that aren't autism-specific/ideas for ways to build communities with people who aren't necessarily autistic. who do i talk to and how do i go about finding them? are there any websites i can check for volunteer groups/opportunities? i do already donate to the aclu and planned parenthood each once a month so id prefer some non-donation ideas that would get me involved with real people near me. i'm not an introvert, i actually love talking to people, but i'm just not good at it. anyway i'm sorry this is so long. thank you for running a great blog.

I think, if you've got the skills for it, that a lot of the logistics and organizing of organizing and activism is always needing people. A lot of people don't want to do the quiet and sometimes "backroom" work involved, but it is so crucial and always appreciated. And you can interact with a lot of people, surprisingly. Things like handling data entry and creating reports, working to make lists of needed items and handling purchasing trips, creating maps and setting up teams for outreach. Sorting and prepping materials for mailout and handout. A lot of times these lead to bigger roles, and people appreciate it a lot. And it involves a lot of constant, sometimes low-level, communication and engagement but also helps establish connection and comfort.

I hope this was helpful, and I hope my mutuals and followers definitely add on to this, because I feel like it may not be that good of a response.

I will say that I definitely appreciate how much you want to be involved and active - we're going to need that a lot in the coming months and years.

[sholmeser]

so like it’s 1999 and solid snake is in zanzibar land and gray fox tells you that all he can do is fight. it’s all he has and it’s probably all you’re ever going to have, too, because deep down you know your father is right, you know he is right as you click the lighter and burn the flesh off his skin, you know he is right when he tells you, this will never go away. i am always going to be a part of you. it’s 2005 and solid snake is in shadow moses island, alaska and gray fox tells you that’s good, snake. hit me harder. do it more. that’s good. when you meet meryl you kill the guards, and then snake thinks he loves her, so you kill psycho mantis for her, ocelot tortures you and you withstand it for her, you beat liquid to a pulp for her and while his blood is on your fists he smiles and tells you that you two, you’ll always be the same. gray fox means violence means meryl means violence, so what’s love if not that? what is it if not the feeling of broken bones under your knuckles, if not the smell of your father’s burnt flesh? but she's too young, she doesn’t understand you and she couldn’t if she tried, because she’s eighteen years old and doesn’t know any better and doesn’t understand that after you sleep with her you’re going to get up and let the pillow grow cold, she thinks you’ll tell her everything and when you don’t, because you can’t, she’ll leave you. you kill him with your fists and for her you destroy shadow moses and you hear him say to you again that’s good, snake, that feels good, do it harder. but it isn’t a coincidence that in mgs1 you meet otacon at the same time you meet gray fox. otacon who is so scared of battle he pisses his pants and otacon who cries over a woman who could never love him back and otacon who thinks good people like dogs, kind people like dogs, otacon who passed you a meal, ready-to-eat and a bottle of ketchup across the bars of your cell and when you ask him why the fuck are you here if you cant help me he says to you, i thought you might be hungry. otacon who gives you her handkerchief that was once her mother's and will be hers once again when she dies, when you rest it atop her glazed-over irises, a cycle of love. she was a good person, snake, and so are you. she liked the wolves and you do too. otacon who cries over his baby sister’s little body, who blames himself for being seventeen years old under the touch of the woman who should have been his mother. otacon who when it's 2014 will make you the solid eye and the octocamo suit and the mk. ii to keep you safe and say to you, don't hurt anyone, snake. will say to you: i'll follow you wherever you go, like this. otacon who blubbers like a baby and cries too much and who, when it's 2009 in new york city, you have to say to, go rescue the hostages, because if you don’t he’s going to crumple in on himself, a dying star. this is how you love, you don’t say to him, and how i love, because you showed me how. wrap your arms around his shoulders and hope it’s enough.

[crimeronan]

it's wild to me that some aphantasiacs identify so strongly with Being An Aphantasiac that they build their entire online brand around Aphantasiac Awareness and Having No Visual Mind but it's even wilder to me how some OTHER people talk about aphantasiacs. ended up on an informative yt short where the guy was like "some people can't picture their own apartment, their wardrobe.... or even their mother's face :(" and i legit got kinda offended. like. literally why do i need to be able to picture my mom's face. i can recognize her when i see her and i can tell you exactly how she feels and what she means to me and the reason i can do that is..... Because i can't picture her face. because my internal processing sounds exactly like my external storytelling, it's All Words, there's no visuals to quantify or translate. finding out that most people Don't have aphantasia has explained a lot about 1) why tricks like a "mind palace" have literally never worked for me even though i can remember ANYTHING by setting it to music, and 2) why my written visual descriptions improve when i'm drawing from setting or picrew or photo refs. other than that i'm like. i'm doing just fine dude. you are the one being extremely weird about this.....

[howtosingit]

I’m gonna be honest, Carlos gently patting TK’s calf as he stands up from the couch has rendered me completely useless and I will literally never recover from it

AND I MEAN LITERALLY