#you just know the they/them mobile has run over somebody at least once.

[fromthedeerforest]

Twins! Twins!! What little crimes did they commit!!!! (might have been vehicular manslaughter! Might have been an accident! Might not have been! Who knows!)

[myhauntedsalem]

13 True Horror Stories from the Psychiatric Ward that Will Give You the Creeps

Death, illness and tragedy have long been part of the history of insane asylums, and for as long as they have existed, so too have the scary stories associated with them. From haunted hospitals to sadistic doctors and nurses, psychiatric wards have been the inspiration for many of our favorite horror movies and books. Yet, the true stories told by the psych ward workers below far surpass any horrors that we might have seen at the cinema or read in a book.

Without further ado, here are thirteen of some of the creepiest psych ward stories on the internet that have been shared by health care professionals.

1. Holding her own Eyes

My mom told me this story from her time at a neuropsychiatric ward while she was in grad school. She was making her routine room checks and happened upon the most horrific scene I’ve ever heard.

This was during the night shift, and generally, all the patients’ bedroom doors should be closed. So my mom turned a corner and noticed an open door. She saw a staff member’s legs on the floor, halfway out the doorway.

When she looked into the room, she saw the patient, a woman with a severe postpartum psychiatric disorder, who had just gouged both of her own eyes out with her bare hands. She was sitting cross-legged on the floor, holding her eyes in her hands.

The first staff member to witness the scene, who was now lying face down on the floor, had a heart attack when he first witnessed the woman while he was making his rounds.

My mom screamed for help and frantically tried to perform CPR on the staff member. All the while, the woman just sat rather calmly, holding her own eyes.

2. The Saw

I work as a psychotherapist in a hospital system. My definition of creepy is probably quite a bit different from other medical professionals.

The one that got to me the most was a patient who came to us after attempting suicide by sawing both his arms off at the forearm with a table saw. His arms were reattached, fairly successfully too, with only limited impairments in mobility. All I could think was how bad it would have to be to live in his head that sawing his arms off seemed better than that.

He has since completed suicide.

3. Jane?

We had a young lady in our custody with quite a few issues. We’ll call her Jane. Jane’s first night at our facility staff doing a bed check found Jane in a puddle of blood. Turns out Jane had been slicing the skin around her shin with her finger nails and was pulling her skin up her leg, essentially de-gloving her calf.

Jane also had a ritual she performed every night before bed. While in her room she would run between walls in her room touching them in a crucifix pattern. After doing this for a few hours she would sit on her bed and go to sleep. This particular night Jane was frantic in her pace, practically running between walls. Our night staff observed the entire interaction and reported Jane screaming late into the night. When the staff went to check on Jane she reported Jane standing in the doorway smiling. The staff asked what was wrong and Jane replied, “what makes you think you are speaking to Jane?”

4. The Vampire

My mom worked in mental institutions in her younger years (and actually worked at a large, well-known asylum before it was shut down.)

There was one woman there that thought she was a vampire of sorts. She was only allowed out one hour a day, and they had to use safety precautions. She had already attacked and killed at least one hospital worker before these were enacted.

When my Mom asked about her, it was revealed that she had killed at least two of her children, wounded another as well as her husband because she had some sort of physical condition called Porphyria, which apparently made her crave blood.

By the time that they discovered there was something physically wrong with her, she already had lost her mind from guilt and grief.

5. The Spitter

I’m not a psychologist but my friend is. She told me about a patient of hers who was HIV positive and a paranoid schizophrenic. He thought that the nurses who worked at the hospital he was in were trying to kill him, so he would frequently bite his tongue, and spit HIV positive blood into their faces/mouths. When they had to come into contact with him, they were required to wear full masks and gloves.

6. The Only One

I once knew a woman who had spent part of her residency at a psychiatric hospital for people with severe mental conditions. Apparently, the grounds had a lovely, enclosed greenhouse. One day, one of their schizophrenic patients was sitting on a bench, smoking a cigarette, as a heron frantically flew around. It had found its way in and, not being able to escape, it was smashing into the large panes of glass. The man just sat there watching.

Finally, my counselor asked him if the bird was bothering him and he kind of sighed and said, “Thank god, I thought I was the only one seeing that.”

7. Family Photographs

My sister is the director of a psychiatric hospital. There was recently a lady there who would cut her arms, legs and torso open and place photographs of her family under her skin.

8. Under the Bed

Once, a fellow female patient told me she found writings under her bed. They were just old, small wooden bed frames with hard mattresses that would make all kinds of noises when you rolled over, but I still wondered what exactly she was doing lying under her bed to find these writings.

When she first told me, I thought it was a joke. But sure enough, one day during group we managed to sneak away, and she showed me. Indeed, there were stories written under her bed. After that, we had everyone check under their own beds, and there was more writing under every single bed.

They were stories of patients who had stayed here before, or ways they were planning on killing themselves, or who the good and bad nurses were. It creeped me out.

9. Time of Death

Well, my mother was a nurse that specialized in geriatrics, and she worked for several hospice hospitals for many years. She often described situations at her work with several of the patients. She would say that each person tends to have a very similar “checklist” that they follow right before death. This checklist often ended in a very similar way.

They would get caught talking to someone that wasn’t there. When asked who they (otherwise lucid people) were talking to, they would describe an individual who was already dead. When asked what they were talking about, they would say that their relative wanted to know if they were ready to move on. A pretty common response would be, “Yeah, he/she said that she will take me tomorrow at 3:00.” Well, it would often happen that they would die at the exact time their relatives quoted.

10. The Test Subject

I had an hour-long conversion with a delusional guy who was confined to a mental health facility, and who was probably smarter than I am. Lots of these folks believe that somebody – often the CIA – is either beaming thoughts into their heads, or has implanted a microchip in their brains for this purpose. This guy was offering a very thoughtful argument as to why such claims should not be so quickly dismissed.

“It’s precisely because such delusions are so common that mental patients make the best test subjects,” he said. There he was, confined and protected, constantly observed, his health and behavior documented, and there is zero chance that anyone would ever take his concerns seriously. How else would you test and improve such technology? Does the government not have a strong motivation and a plausible ability to create such a device?

“You can see I’m not irrational,” the man said. “I’m just straight-up telling you that they are doing this to me. I know just how unbelievable it sounds, and yet, here I am.”

11. The Boy who Loved Knives

As a tech in psych years ago, there was a 7-year-old kid sent to the floor because the mom didn’t know what to do with him. Sadly, common thing to happen, even if the kids don’t have psych issues. Anyway, the mom was shaking and crying, and they had to take the kid into another room. She was genuinely afraid of her own son. She had suspected something was wrong when she kept finding mutilated animals in the backyard, but never heard or saw coyotes or anything around. The neighbors smaller pets started disappearing. The boy had an obsession with knives, hiding them around the house. Denying anything when the mom confronted him. Then when the two started getting into arguments, he would get really violent and hit her, push her down and kick her, threaten to kill her. On multiple occasions she woke up in the middle of the night with him standing beside her bed, staring her in the face. She put extra locks on her bedroom door to feel safe while she slept. The last straw was when she lifted up his mattress and found 50+ knives of all shapes and sizes under there. So she brought him to us.

I remember talking to him, treating him like he was just any other kid that came through. He seemed remarkably normal, until you spoke directly to him. He had this way of looking right through you, or maybe like he didn’t see you at all while you were speaking.

He would respond like a robot, like he was just saying words because that’s what we wanted to hear. And he would always put on this creepy, dead-looking smile. Like all mouth and no eye involvement in the smile. Especially when he would get away with something, like taking another kid’s markers and they couldn’t figure it out. Still gives me chills laying here thinking about him.

I believe I met a 7-year-old psychopath.

12. The New Mom

I was a pharmacy technician at a hospital with a psych ward for some time. We would have to go around with a cart and dispense the patients’ medications, and being a 5’2″ girl, a security guard or male nurse would accompany me, just as a precaution. I never had any real issues other than the occasional death grip onto my arm or manic outbursts, but there was one boy who was entirely different.

His chart said he was nine and he had pale skin, dark hair, and huge bright, green eyes. He always greeted me in the most polite way, asked how I was doing, and always found something different to compliment me on every time. He was extremely well-spoken and mature for his age, so I began looking forward to seeing him, as normal small talk is definitely cherished in that setting. If he saw me outside of his room in the halls, he made sure to say hello and always called me “Miss Jones” or “ma’am.”

One day, a couple of our female nurses saw me pause to chat with him in the hallway, and waved me over to ask if I was out of my mind. Apparently, when he was in kindergarten, he grew an intense attachment to his young female teacher.

This escalated to the point of him calling her “Mom” and leaving notes for her about how he wished he were her son. He had a normal home-life with both parents, and the teacher tried to explain to him that she couldn’t be his mom because that would hurt his real mother’s feelings, and that she already had that job covered.

So, he went home and, killed his own mother in her sleep by cutting her throat, so his teacher could be his mom. The female staff had a general rule of not interacting with him excessively to prevent any kind of attachment from forming.

13. Bugs

Nothing I can say can possibly describe the year I worked in Psychiatric Intensive Care. Creepy isn’t the thing that comes to mind when I think back on it…more heartbreaking and horrifying. But creepiness was a part of it. Especially evening and night shifts, naturally.

There is always something disturbing about watching someone while they hallucinate. You can tell it is 100% real to them, and something about that makes you believe it, on some level. A lot of stories end with, “and of course, I had to look over my shoulder to make sure”. You see the emotions it brings out.

There was a woman that came in and sat down across the table from me for her admission interview. She had bandages all over her arms and scotch tape over her mouth and ears. She looked very uncomfortable and wouldn’t really sit still. When the nurse would ask her a question, she would peel the corner of the tape back and answer, then stick the tape back on really fast.

We eventually found out that she saw and felt bugs crawling all over her, and they were trying to get inside her body. The tape was to keep the bugs out. The bandages were because some bugs got in and she had to dig them out. She couldn’t sit still because she felt the bugs all over her even while we sat and talked. The worst part was, she had some idea that it was her mind playing tricks on her. Can you imagine going through your life, feeling like someone is continuously dumping buckets of cockroaches on your head, feeling like they’re all over you and getting inside of you to the point that you’re digging chunks out of your flesh in a panic, all while knowing intellectually that none of it is real?

[dontasktheradiodemon]

Emotional Support, $500/hour

Alastor hires Angel for his services. No, not those services. The "provide sympathy and advice for some poor loser who's found himself unwillingly stuck in a soap opera" services. Although Angel would far rather do it as a friend rather than for pay.

Tumble mobile is a piece of crap that won't let me post an entire chat log in one post, and I don't want to wait eight hours to post this when I get home, so gonna post this in two chunks. Part one:

Alastor

A text arrives at one of the numbers written up on the walls around Pentagram City:

"Is this Angel Dust's business line?"

Hella formal.

Angel

An identifying ring sounded from Angel's drawer. Not the type that'd fire warning bells in his head, but the sort he preferred to hear from his hotel room.

Time to go to work.

[ The one and only, Toots! 💋 What can I do ya for? 💕 ]

Alastor

"What are your rates just for private conversation? Nothing sexual. I need somebody to talk to."

Angel

Angel reread the message. Once. Twice. A couple more times. Usually he didn't get this type of request on this number, but a part of him was relieved.

[ Ya talkin' companion rates, Babe? I typically run that 500 by the hour, but dependin' on the kinda secrets I'm gonna be keepin', I could drop or ask fa a tip. It's a pretty accurate ballpark, though. Have I lost ya? ]

Alastor

There’s a longer pause before the next reply.

(The pause is for Alastor to go “Five hundred dollars?! FIVE HUNdred DOL*LARS*?! *FIVE—*”)

“I can manage that.”

It’s not going to be *his* money.

Angel

[ Sounds good! Where ya gonna be wantin' me, Sweetheart? Just so ya know, I'm gonna need those bills in my hands before we get down to any business. ]

Alastor

“I’ll have them. The hotel just outside Cannibal Colony’s northern entrance. I’ll let you know the room number.”

It’s a middling sort of hotel. It’s alright.

Angel

[ Alright, I know the area. I'll be there in about fifteen. ]

He didn't know the area. But Angel couldn't let an unknown client know that. Furthermore, last he was there he had himself QUITE THE WELCOMING. So by his better judgement, he asked Bel for directions without running the risk of getting shot this time. He'd find his way.

Alastor

And Alastor is gonna spend the next fifteen minutes cordially threatening the first people he sees who look well-dressed and stupid enough to be carrying around several hundred dollars, and then bolting for the hotel.

He’s settling down on the room’s couch and texting Angel the number at about the same time Angel probably ought to be walking in the front door.

Angel

_Rap rap._ He's not the police, so he saves announcing himself. Nonetheless his senses are alert, his limbs folded deceptively casual before his torso. Anxieties aside, he's expecting an easy job. As soon as he can confirm it's a real job and not a hold up.

Alastor

Alastor’s shadow opens the door for him.

He glances over from the couch. “Right on time.” He gestures to an arm chair across from the couch. Surprise!

Angel

Angel looks at his phone. The room number. His phone again. They surely match up exactly, don't they? A rather robotic wave to Alastor's shadow, just to be polite, before he pokes his head in without crossing the doorframe.

_" ... What. Am I bein' punk'd 'ere!? "_ Arms flail wildly as his eyes dart about the room in search of clues he might not get from the real deal on the couch. " THIS where ya been holdin' the crock pot hostage?? "

Alastor

“Do come in and shut the door before you start shouting, would you? I *am* trying to be discreet, here.” Proof of that claim: he’s actually using an indoor voice for once.

There’s no crock pot. No nothing else, either—he got the room less than five minutes ago just for this, he hasn’t touched a thing and he didn’t bring any personal effects. Just him, sitting cross-armed on the couch.

He uncrosses his arms, fishes a wallet out of his pocket, and slides several bills half out. See? He’s legit. “I have enough here for—let’s see—about three hours and twenty-five minutes. Hopefully I won’t need that much, but.” A jerky shrug.

Angel

His face fell and stiffened into a vague sternness. Wordlessly he stepped around the shade and soundlessly shut the door. This energy was too weird. He didn't trust it. He didn't like it. Either he or Alastor was running the risk of being made a bigger fool than Narcissus in the pond. Fittingly, neither one of them would risk their egos for something so trivial.

He was MORE than serious.

Angel passed the arm chair, instead taking a knee before him and lowering a hand over the wallet. " I'm not takin' ya money, Al. The fuck's goin' on? "

Alastor

“Oh, don’t worry about *that,* it’s not my money. It properly belongs to...” He pulls a card out of the wallet and squints at it. “Mr. Bee. Ironically, he looked more like a parrot.”

But he doubts that’s going to satisfy Angel. “I’m not talking to you as a friend. I’m hiring your services as a professional. I need your expert advice on a matter. And if I’m asking you to do your job, I *am* going to pay you for it.”

Angel

Angel rose a brow higher than his last hit. At the very least he could relax, but he was still dumbfounded -

_... as a friend?_ If he weren't a professional, he'd be asking him as a friend? The corner of his mouth twitched. It seemed more likely that he wouldn't be asking him at ALL if he weren't professional.

Regardless, he was wasting his energy trying to figure him out on his own. " What in the Nine's could ya be askin' _me_ for? " A short exhale before shifting his back against the armchair. " Save fa givin' yaself a day coma, I thought ya... pretty good at keepin' ya shit together... "

Alastor

Alastor rifled through the wallet to see if Mr. Bee had any interesting membership cards worth stealing—museums, day spas, secret societies, etc.—before sitting forward and holding the wallet out to Angel. “Are you taking it? Because I’m not telling you why I’m asking you unless you’re on the clock.”

Angel

" Alright alright, lemme see, " Angel lied with little to no intention of sitting on it. He flipped through the bills and counted them off by the hour before placing them on the table beside him. " ...120, 180, remainder a 25. 205 minutes of complete and undivided attention, in part or in full. You're set, Smiles. "

Alastor

Alastor watched as Angel counted. “All right.” He took a deep breath, let it all out. His gaze didn’t move from the table to Angel. “I could use—relationship advice.”

Angel

He could BURST with the sheer force of that bombshell, but Angel kept his cool as he made his sprawl of limbs comfortable from the floor. " Ya... gotta secret squeeze around 'ere or somethin? Cannibal gal ya came out t' see? "

Alastor

Alastor laughed ruefully. Wouldn’t that be convenient—some cute little lady to have a predictably heterosexual little afterlife with, sharing all of his shallow surface-level preferences—home era, musical theater, cannibalism—he could pick from any of a dozen ladies he’d passed since arriving in the Cannibal Colony that afternoon who would leap at the chance.

“Not a squeeze,” he said. “Not a gal, either.”

Angel

Well, he was _laughing,_ but it wasn't the good kind. Angel leaned an elbow over a seat of the sofa, keeping all signs of his own personal glee from his face.

Most of it.

" Do tell. "

Alastor

By this point, he wasn’t looking anywhere near Angel. Okay. Now or never. He leaned forward, elbows on his knees, twisting his laced hands together. “Advice.” Like saying it again would keep this to some emotionally neutral info-gathering consultation. “What do you—How should one handle it, if... one has... sentiments, for one’s best friend, that he doesn’t reciprocate.” His stomach churned. “Andhe’s found out.”

He had very few people he publicly acknowledged as friends, particularly not somewhere Angel would have seen it. Only one of them was a man. He braced himself for an outburst of shock/amusement as Angel worked out who he was talking about.

Angel

Oh this was FAR from strictly transactional. They all pretty much lived together. Their interpersonal lives would be intertwined for the unspecified future. Said best friend was ENGAGED... to Angel's own best friend.

Again, Angel's eyes flickered about the room. This wasn't a Lifetime movie. This wasn't a hidden camera show. This was gonna be their life now and he'd be DAMNED if that sort of mess could be sorted by a few hundred dollars or so.

He just took a deep breath and stated the facts. Any generic advice he had on hand wouldn't be helpful. " You're his best man, Al. _What_ were ya thinkin'? "

Alastor

He squeezed his eyes shut as if Angel had just reared back to sock him in the face. He would have preferred amusement. “*I didn’t want him to kn—*”

He choked on his own static. He took a shuddering breath. “I don’t want—They make him happy, *that’s* what I want. Him happy. I don’t want to interfere, I just—“ He had to stop again. Unprofessional. Management would’ve given him a stern talking to after a performance like this.

He lifted his laced hands, pressing the knuckles of his thumbs to his eyelids. “I didn’t tell him. He figured it out.”

Angel

Angel expected defensiveness from trying to pry some more from him, to pass an air of judgement for the sake of pulling out whatever emotions he was trying so hard to hide beneath professionalism. He thought Alastor would HANDLE IT.

Not fall into whatever _this_ was. The Alastor he knew was nothing short of _UNBREAKABLE._ It was as surreal as it was painful to witness. _What could be possibly offer him?_ A simple question suddenly felt loaded and heavy.

" _Hey hey hey._ " Angel rose from the floor and perched upon the sofa facing him. " He's a smart guy. You're expressive as shit. Even performin's got... some of ya in it... Ya can't help ALL OF IT. " He leaned forward, just enough to duck below Alastor's falling level. " ... What he... have t' say about it...? "

Alastor

In a week, maybe he could have been calm and collected and above it all. But it was yesterday. It felt like it was an hour ago. The wounds were still raw, literally.

A sharp nod. “It was unavoidable.” He’d realized that the moment it happened. He still hated, hated, hated it.

“Oh, you know.” Another humorless laugh. He dropped his hands and stared tiredly down at them. “He’s furious, he feels betrayed, he feels used... he believes he still wants to be my friend but if he so much as *looks* at me before he’s ready for it he’ll hate me forever...” He shrugged wearily.

Angel

" That's why ya out here, " he stated with a toss of an arm over the backrest, " I DON'T know. How's he feelin' used? Ya never... did anythin' to 'im, did ya? I mean, since you was tryin' so hard to just keep it in, I can't imagine you HAVE. " Angel racked his memories a moment, but drew blanks. He couldn't think of any reason, for both not knowing enough and such a notion conflicting his own direct experience.

" It's... YOU hurtin' 'ere, from what I see. He's got Valera, they gonna be tyin' the knot soon. You've been... " He swallowed thickly. " There fa him. Tell me why. There's - " Words caught in his throat. Words that may have saved him from damnation had they been said to him when he needed to hear them. " Ain't nothin' wrong... wit' feelin' what ya feelin'. "

Alastor

A nod. That’s why he’s out here.

“Because any time we interacted, there was more to it—more than he was bargaining for. More than he knew about.” He had himself back under control, but his tone was subdued. Almost emotionless. Not very Radio Demon. “We hugged, we cuddled. Napped together.” And was he justified in feeling used over that? All Alastor could say was that he’d felt guilty about it the entire time—that he’d dreaded that maybe he *was* using him. “I *tried* to make sure he was always the one who initiated. It didn’t always end up that way.” He remembered holding him in his arms when he’d fainted, telling himself it was justified because he was just supporting him until he woke back up. He’d been *unconscious.* “He said he couldn’t really consent to anything we did because he didn’t know what he was consenting to.”

Angel

" And he's puttin' that on you? Smiles, ya owed 'im nothin' more than ya wanted 'im knowin'. It didn't change nothin'. Ya still gave him everything he wanted and needed from ya. You think ya owe him a reengineerin' of the parts a ya you can't change, too? He may... own ya... but he can't... change ya. Not like that. "

Realizing he may have been projecting a little too much, Angel cleared his throat. " Lovin' 'im a lil' different don't take away from everythin' ya already had. I dunno why he'd feel so... THREATENED by ya unless he... ain't cool wit' you bein' a guy, but any guy who's that comfy wit' his friends can't be straight 'imself, ah? " He forced a chuckle, but he knew that wasn't the point.

" Ya still... didn't have motives, Al, ya didn't take advantage of him. Ya didn't go underminin' everything he's workin' for. Right? No matter how you was feelin'... he still came first. Now if ya ask me, that's PRETTY FUCKIN' STUPID. But he has ya. Had ya. Whatever happens. He's got it all an' then some just t' kick ya to the curb... " Angel crossed his arms. " Ya don't deserve that. He's got some apologizin' t' do to you. I'd drag ya back to the hotel an' give 'im a piece a my mind right NOW... but y'ain't gonna want that, huh? "

Alastor

*He may own you.* Something inside Alastor twisted in pain and boiled up in fury—because it was true. Some part of him had been seized away and he was never getting it back, and that was the *worst* part of this. He muttered, “I wish I could reengineer it. Not for *him* but for *me.* I don’t want this.”

He shook his head. “It’s not because I’m a man, that never came into it. He isn’t straight.” He says this with the confidence of somebody who definitely absolutely totally knows that this is a fact, despite the fact that he has not, actually, been told so.

No, of course he’d never undermined him, he would never—but that didn’t necessarily mean he hadn’t, at the same time, taken advantage. Taken liberties he shouldn’t have, here and there. The idea that *he* might be owed an apology was laughable. Alastor wasn’t laughing. “No, absolutely not, don’t say a *single* word to him. As soon as this conversation ends, I never told you anything and you don’t know any of it.”

Angel

" Didn't think so. " Angel dropped his cheek into his hand and studied him. Something changed. He was being short with him. He perused his words, robotic and unnatural, searching for what did it. It was the price he paid for rambling.

" But ya _do,_ want it. You'd want it if things were different, if he felt the same about you. Tell me I'm wrong an' I'll eat my words wit' a side a fries. " He closed his eyes and hummed into his palm. " Whatever closure ya needin' ya gotta find it. " Angel hesitated to volley ideas, as he knew they'd be leaving his mouth astronomically hypocritical. But he wasn't being paid to play by example, was he? " Ya can count on Penny t' come around and give it to ya, but if ya do that you could be fuckin' exiled forever an' give up the front seat to watchin' Charlie's redemption plans go to shits. Sure it's a lotta fun out 'ere, but it ain't no 1929 fun. "

" Or, ya can wipe ya face. Get off ya ass. Make sure ya got all that's goin' on outta ya system. An' find somethin' new to pour yaself into that's got nothin' t' do with him. And keep doin' it until he's got less an' less a hold on ya until... you're feelin' free an' yourself, again. An' he'll just 'ave to deal with whatever that means if he wants to be stayin' friends with ya. 'Cause ya done ENOUGH. "

Alastor

"You *are* wrong." There's an edge of desperation in his voice. "If he said he felt the same and he made me that offer—yes, I'd take it. But if I could actually choose, if I was given a *real* choice? Between being with him and—and having this taken out of me and being *free?* I'd want to be free! I'd choose that in a heartbeat! I'd rather be his friend!"

And he *knew* that was what he'd choose because he *had* chosen it. Back before he realized that freedom was no longer an option. He'd lost a piece of his heart he was never getting back.

He listened to Angel's suggestions. Let out a long, slow sigh. And asked tiredly, "Is that it?"

Angel

" Then ya gonna have to prove it to yourself first babe 'cause ya ain't soundin' convincin'. " Angel ducked below his line of sight again as if it'd grant him a different perspective. " If this sorta thing had a magical fix, you'd know a lot better than me. But it don't. Ya just gotta... "

He frowned. He wouldn't be able to keep the promise of pretending this never happened. " ... keep at it... keep talkin'... maybe you'll wake up tomorrow feelin' inspired. Maybe you'll wish ya never woke up at all, but... it's all ya can do, Smiles. It's gonna take time. " Angel didn't like leaving it at this, but he found himself unsure. With other clients, he could leave them with the best and never hear of the results. So long as he stayed at the hotel, _he was going to end up WATCHING HIM every step of the way._

But he still didn't know how he needed to be taken care of. If Alastor knew himself, he wouldn't have solicited. " Good thing we got all the time in the world down 'ere to find new things to fuck ourselves up with, ah? " He reached out and gently pat the sofa cushion in place of his knee, in place of taking his hand. " You'll... get there. You're the fuckin' Radio Demon. I dunno how ya do half the shit ya do but this is gonna be one a them things. Say it. "

Alastor

"Would it sound more convincing to you if I destroyed everything he'd ever worked for *just* to ensure we could never have a life together? Would that be convincing enough for you?" Alastor snapped. "*Because I did.*"

He shoved himself off the couch to start pacing. "I've *tried* pouring myself into something new to keep him off my mind. I've *been* trying it for the last *fifty-four years.* That's why I'm at the hotel in the first place! It's why I know *how long* you can *kill yourself* with a bottle of 190 proof booze!" He flung his hands up in despair. "I've been trying to *feel like myself* again since 1966, and all I can do is—distract myself! Distract myself and suppress it until the next time I'm reminded of him!" He let out a brittle laugh, "And smear what I feel for him around to all of his duplicates!"

He rounded on Angel. "I've joined musicals, worked in restaurants, moved to a cultish commune, been an alcoholic, gone to therapy, traveled the nine circles, signed onto every harebrained scheme and plot in Hell—including the hotel!—and more things I can't even remember off the top of my head, and on top of *that* put over half a century between me and him, *and he's still stuck in my heart.* I've tried every piece of advice I've ever heard for how to fall out of love and they *haven't worked!* So give me something *new!* Give me something I *haven't tried!* You're the professional!"

He collapsed onto the armchair Angel hadn't taken. He wasn't sure if getting all that out of his system had really helped. He kind of felt like he'd just projectile vomited.

Angel

" Dupli-? ... _Fuck..._ " Angel dropped his cheek into his palm with the rest of his body taking up the empty space on the sofa. This ran much deeper than he thought. The root of his issues didn't even have anything to DO with the Pentious he knew. Likely beyond anything he could possibly say. Hadn't Alastor been so sweepingly BROAD when he came in, he could've been more careful, but- _ah seemed like he tired himself out._

**_Ya DONE?_**

" That kinda miracle workin' ain't on my resume, " he said bleakly with a broad sweep of an arm, " Ya called me fa someone to talk to, not t' be the answer to all ya problems. " As much time as he spent hearing out the woes of the damned, usually all that was really wanted from him was a crank. An easy enough temporary fix. Not here.

He stood up now. Trying to build him up from below didn't seem to be working. Alastor responded only when he called him out, questioned the half-hearted assertions playing from his mouth like a weathered record. Was that what he needed? To be spiritually disemboweled until he purged all the poison from his soul onto the tarp? He didn't like this. He didn't like it at all. He wanted to call the job off. He couldn't do it. This was too personal and psychologically visceral.

But even moreso, he couldn't give up on and leave him there for much of the same reason he couldn't leave him at the bar. Self destruction was a BITCH to be going through alone. And at the root of it all, Alastor made it clear enough he didn't want to be alone by calling him there.

Angel braced a long arm over the back of his chair so he could drill him in the eye. " Believe me, if I had it all I'd give it to ya, but all I got is this. If ya want ya stolen money back, fine, Al. If ya wanna keep yellin', 'ave at it, Al. Lay out all the shit that's been dry doggin' ya since '66. So I can get it. REALLY GET IT. 'Cause ya holdin' out on me. An' if ya really wanna get the most outta ya hours. Ya gotta keep goin'. "

Alastor

A corner of his mouth twitched. Miracle working. "Of course. Of course, you're right—I'm not expecting a miracle. Not in Hell."

He slouched forward, elbows on his knees again, running one hand through his hair—it was still partially stiff with the hair gel he hadn't managed to shower out at Rosie's, he hadn't bothered to restyle it.

He hadn't liked... that. He still felt sick. "No, I don't want a refund," he said. "I—don't think I want to keep yelling, either." He was silent a moment, trying to figure out what he *did* want from all the things he didn't want, mentally chasing something elusive. It had made perfect sense when he'd tracked down Angel's number—talk to a professional, someone whose job was all about desire and attraction, someone who'd probably dealt with thousands of broken-hearted clients; while Alastor's had only broken once, and just never been put back together.

And now that they were talking Alastor couldn't quite figure out what he wanted. Maybe he really had been hoping for a miracle.

*Ya gotta keep goin'.* All right. "I don't particularly want to talk about '66, either—but..." He took a deep breath. "There was a day when I had a choice—happily ever after with him; or run for the hills, toss aside those emotions, and go back to being who I'd been before I—fell. I chose to run. Destroy everything and run. So—when I *say* that I'd choose freedom over requited feelings... even if it doesn't sound convincing to you, I need you to know that I'm telling the truth. Because I *did* choose it. Or—tried." He looked at Angel, waiting for his reaction—waiting to see if he was believed. Because he needed to be believed. Everyone else in the world only said they didn't want love when they couldn't make it work out—and if Angel lumped Alastor in with them, then... then they would be speaking two different languages that had the same words but different meanings, never actually communicating. If Alastor couldn't make himself understood, he was still alone.

Angel

Angel took a deep breath before sinking to the floor again. " I believe ya. Just gotta say it with conviction, ah? " he said heavily with a fold of his arms over the armrest. As Alastor spoke, he tried to put himself in his place. When he was posed with as monumental a choice, he made the opposite decision. And regretted it with everything he had. Not only was there no miracle working in Hell: there were no choices for the better, either. You were damned whether or not you believed something was too good to be true or fell into the trap. Angel had dived headfirst when he should've trusted that he knew himself better than to believe it'd end well for him.

" How'd it fall through? " he posed with a drop of his chin into his arms, " He bait ya back? " Angel found himself listening with new acoustics. They'd both been in ruins for decades for strikingly similar reasons: trapped by the clutches of toxic loves neither of them want, when they never felt anything of the sort prior. A tragic First they were still fighting. Perhaps he had something to offer him afterall. Perhaps he could support him in a way only few could. He could only hope it'd be enough.

Alastor

“No.” Alastor slid off his chair, too; it didn’t feel right, sitting higher. They should be on eye level with each other. “No, that was—that was why I destroyed everything before I left. To ensure he *wouldn’t* try to bait me back. To make sure he wouldn’t want to. And he didn’t want to. He hasn’t.” Huff. “You saw him on my first day at the hotel! And that’s the longest conversation we’ve had since I left. No, he didn’t do anything. It just...” He shrugged helplessly. “Didn’t fade for me. It’s *supposed* to fade, everyone tells you it’s supposed to fade. It never did.”

Angel

" Oh. That was. " _Let's just pretend he knew from the beginning that they weren't the same demon._ Angel darted his eyes to the corner of the room as he slinked off the armrest. _Yeah. TOTALLY KNEW,_ he lied to himself as he faced Alastor and made himself comfortable. Odd of him to follow his habit. " ... him. " He then cleared his throat. " Yeah, it... doesn't... really... " Angel echoed with a perch of his arms over his ankles. " So... what's ya plan...? Ya gonna just... camp out 'ere 'till ya figure it out? "

Alastor

“That was him,” Alastor said grimly. “My *ex.*” The word was sour on his tongue. Such a fitting word. “And what did I do, I immediately blew up his ship again. Terrific work on my part. Well done.”

A shrug. “Wait at Rosie’s until either he comes calling or I decide he never will, I suppose, and then figure out what to do from there. The—the new ‘he,’ I mean. The one I’m friends with now.” He paused, considering that. “Was friends with.”

Angel

" I'll say. " Blowing up an exe's property sounded perfectly justifiable to him, and it wasn't just Cherri's influence. But he guessed if Alastor felt bad about it that only meant he preferred other ways of moving on.

" Rosie... she... busy a lot? Ya got enough company out 'ere? "

Alastor

“Oh, everyone loves me in the Cannibal Colony. All the ladies swoon and all the men beg me to come over for dinner. I can’t go half a block without getting roped into small talk and dance numbers.” He didn’t sound terribly enthusiastic about it. But he added, “I have better company here than I do anywhere else in Hell,” and *that* was completely true.

Angel

" Well... sounds like a good place fa ya to be... " Angel pondered some. Of course Cannibal Colony was his personal wonderland. But there must be something missing for him to leave, he figured. " Pause the clock for a sec, " he said with a clear of his throat, " Rosie got room fa one more? "

Alastor

“I don’t want a roommate.” He gave the answer immediately; and then, after a moment, grudgingly, asked, “Are you trying to get away from the hotel?”

Angel

" I ain't askin' t' be ya roommate, " he growled, " YOU'RE the one turnin' tail 'ere. " With that, Angel snapped his fingers. " Clock's back on. I ain't ya friend no more. "

Alastor

Alastor stared at him, lost. “Th—No, pause the clock—Then what *are* you asking?”

Angel

He crossed his arms and eyed him sternly. " If ya... " A sigh. He already knew the answer. " If ya need a friend, Al. Ya gonna be out 'ere for fuckall knows how long. Ya goin' through it. Would be much easier if all I had to do was turn a corner instead a hikin' all the way over whenever ya felt like stealin' a wallet. "

Alastor

All right, that was what he’d originally thought. He didn’t know why Angel got *offended* that Alastor hadn’t wanted a favor that had been offered for Alastor’s benefit—but then it wasn’t the first time, was it? “I don’t want a friend nearby. I don’t want to be *watched* while I’m... thinking things over. I need to have that distance.” He unconsciously glanced toward the wallet as he said the last word.

Angel

" That mean ya done? " he asked with a toss of his chin down Alastor's line of sight.

Alastor

He snapped his gaze back to Angel. “No. No, just—have to look somewhere, don’t I?” Deep breath. “Sorry. Distracted. Where were we?”

Angel

He actually pulled him back. Color Angel surprised. " Ya blew up his shit, it didn't do ya no good, ya made a mean jambalaya... "

Alastor

“*Right.* Yes. That’s not the one I wanted to talk about. *He’s* not the one I wanted to talk about. I just—needed you to know the context, but... The one I’m friends with now. That one.”

Angel

" Yeah. The one who kicked ya to the curb after ya tore yourself the fuck apart tryin' to be who he wanted ya to be instead a seein' an' appreciatin' ya fa who you are, " he stated matter of factly with a moderate sweep of his arm, " _That one._ Pen. "

Alastor

It stung to hear. Another little needle jammed into his heart, right alongside all the others already buried in. "If I was tearing myself apart to be who he wanted, then he *couldn't* see who I really was, could he? I've been more or less lying to him as long as he's known me. He's got every right to distrust me."

Angel

" More or less, " Angel echoed, " So ya _not_ entirely convinced you were completely in the wrong. " His eyes challenged him. Though the secondary six didn't have pupils, an eerie weight carried through. " It's 'cause you're not. "

Alastor

"I *meant* in the sense that even when I wasn't *actively* lying, I was lying by omission." He shook his head. "Even if I... It's nothing I don't deserve anyway—in general, in a... you know, a karmic sense. Years ago, I stabbed a version of him in the heart; now he stabs me in the heart. He was probably... *selected,* on some celestial level, to be my punishment." He'd been doing a valiant job of keeping at least a ghost of a smile on his face, but it was starting to waver now. "I knew this wasn't going to work. Of course we couldn't be friends—he was just thrown in my path to rip open the wounds I'd gotten too good at ignoring. If it had a chance of working, we wouldn't have been allowed to meet."

Angel

" What's the point a harpin' on about what ya do an' don't deserve if there ain't no redemption to be had? That cross on ya chest ain't ever gonna flip. " _Catholic,_ he heard Alastor's voice echo in his head. How he _loathed_ those places of worship. Even before being damned his skin burned with rancor every time he crossed an altar. And he did so many times with and without a Colt tucked into his coat. " What'cha expectin' to be comin' outta sufferin' like a good lil' sinner? 'Cause no matter how many times I dunked my wank hand into the holy water, " he said curtly as he signed himself, " I kept missin' the memo. " Intentionally. But he could play dumb for now if it helped him drag some religious trauma out of him.

Alastor

"I don't expect anything to come out of it but more suffering. I don't expect a reward, redemption, or respite. But—and here's the key part—I don't expect anything to come out of denial and resistance, either. Either way, I'm going to suffer and nothing's going to improve. Because this is *Hell,* and *nothing* gets better, and only a *damn fool* tries to improve his lot. Even if he succeeds, it's only because Hell is letting him set himself up for an even greater fall." He crossed his legs loosely, propping his elbow on a knee and his chin in his hand, letting his fingers half cover his mouth. "This situation is just further proof of that."

Angel

" So ya called me just so you can fuck yourself over a lil' more? Ya " damn fool " ? 'Cause if ya lookin' to get fucked UP an' do it RIGHT, that's up my alley, too. " Angel flashed a crooked smirk and waved a his hand. He wasn't serious. However, he _did_ fundementally disagree. " I'm kiddin'. Kiddin'. But ya know. So long as we're stuck kickin' around, sufferin', may as well keep things interestin', " he droned with a shift to his knees so he could reach Alastor's shoulder, " Keep takin' chances. Keep chasin' the next best thing. Keep doin' what'cha do. It ain't gonna matter an' it's always gonna suck, but at least ya get ya kicks outta watchin' other demons handle it a lot worse than you, ah? "

Alastor

He laughed weakly. "I've tried getting f#%ked up." A muffled beep obscured most of the word. "Funny thing though, once you get tired of that, you still have to pick up the pieces. And I never have liked cleaning up messes."

A lump formed in his throat when Angel touched his shoulder. "Next best thing," he muttered. "That's what I've been doing. All this time." He could hear his voice trembling, but he couldn't stop it. "If I can't be *happy*, at least I can be *entertained.* Ha! I just w—!" He couldn't finish the sentence. He slid his hand up to fully cover his mouth and squeezed his eyes shut.

Angel

Angel chuckled in time with his laugh. Was that part of his act? Was the bleep conscious? He had so many jokes at the ready. He was MORE than ready to start trying to make him laugh...

... but instead, Alastor shattered like glass. Just a touch of a hand was all it took? He always took extra care to respect his space after their first conversation. Right now he was just leading him by example, showing rather than just telling him to take chances.

_" ... Al... "_ He thought he should pull back. Maybe it was a bad call. But if he let go, there'd be nothing there to catch his pieces. _And Alastor surely didn't like cleaning up messes._ Angel took a short breath before raising another hand. He gently squared his shoulders towards him. _" Hey... You ok there buddy? "_

Alastor

He shook his head. But he also didn't pull back. Just this once, apparently, this was what he needed.

Angel

Angel almost felt like he'd be more comfortable holding a hornet's nest, but at least providing this sort of comfort was more his speed. " C'mere. " Cautiously, he slid his arms past Alastor to angle his head over his shoulder and avoid a pair of antlers to the throat. In the same motion, he slipped beside him to support any weight that would fall. _Was it too much?_ He kept his secondary arms on the floor for now, a small crunch of product in his ear as his cheek tilted into his hair.

Alastor

Yes, that *was* what he needed. He'd be surprised at himself if he wasn't trying so hard to hold himself together. He leaned his weight into Angel, pulled his knees up to his chest, and covered his face entirely, one hand over his mouth and one hand over his eyes.

Voice cracking, choking on every few words, he said, "I just—wish—I could stop—dragging him into it. I don't want to be the—the one assigned to—make him suffer. That would be enough."

Angel

_You're NOT..._ Angel took a deep breath and pulled him closer, all arms around him now, a couple subtly rubbing his back. This wasn't a point of argument he could win. He couldn't contest or even tell him it'd be ok. So every time he choked, he gave a little squeeze. Every time he cracked he gave a more deliberate stroke. He could cry into his fluff. It'd be ok. He wouldn't look. Instead of protest, he affirmatively hummed along.

Alastor

He couldn't quite bring himself to cry into the fluff, that was a step too far. That would be the point where chronic touch aversion won out over acute touch starvation again.

But he *was* willing to press his forehead into the fluff—oh wow that was really soft. That was. Insanely soft. Holy shit. It lived up to the advertising.

Angel

He seemed to still. That was good. Angel brought a hand to the top of his head to gauge where the antlers were again, but _god_ was his hair a mess. Roots showing, old pomade... at least it didn't feel an awful brand. Keeping his chin up, he relaxed his hold on him and stayed put, listening closely for potentially muffled words.

Alastor

Just one word for the moment, croaked out from beneath a hand and a wall of fluff: "Thanks." He'll work a few more out, just—give him a moment first. It's been a long time since he's let himself be touched by anyone but the person he's currently a wreck over.

Angel

" Yeah... I won't mention it, " he said quietly before brushing a thumb over the base of his ear. Alongside the softness, it was almost en_deer_ing how small he managed to make himself. But he was a broken man. Angel hoped he'd never have to see this side of Alastor again regardless of how used to his frame he was getting. Less a hornet's nest, more a vulnerable demon just like any other.

Alastor

And Alastor sincerely hoped to never be seen like this again; but that wasn't totally in his control, was it?

He took several deep breaths, white noise hisses; and then asked, "Should I—even try again? Being friends? Or would we both be better off to—not?"

He desperately wanted a *yes, try again.* But he couldn't give himself one. He'd been trying, for days; all his excuses and rationalizations rang false. They all sounded selfish and naive.

Angel

Angel bit his lip. _No,_ he wanted to say, _Not if ya gonna keep runnin' yourself into the ground. Not if you're gonna cling to this idea of suffering._

_Ya just gonna be back 'ere again._

But so would he, wouldn't he? Angel already decided. He wasn't going back to the studio. If nowhere else... he was going to be here. Playing redemption.

" ... He. Should try, " he said sternly as he traced waves, " You don't do a fuckdamn THING to get in his good graces until he makes it up to ya. That's the only way this could work. Ya gave 'im everythin'. It's his turn. "

Alastor

Alastor's throat tightened. He didn't like that answer. "But being loved by a friend is *horrible.*" Voice of experience. "He didn't *want* everything from me. I can't blame him for being upset at having so much shoved onto him. How could I?"

Angel

Angel sighed heavily. Temporary fluff suffocation. You'll survive, Alastor. " I ain't sayin' ya gotta do that. Just that he should f'give ya some. Y'ain't no scarlet fuckin' letter. Just a guy. Wit' a complicated past. Wit' some complicated feelin's. If he's gonna be givin' any bit of a damn about you, he's gonna have to wade through some of it without judgin' ya or blamin' ya. It's what friends do. "

Alastor

That's fine, breathing is optional. He can wait.

"Oh, no? If I had a big red letter pinned to me, are you sure you could tell? B for backstabber." He sighed. "Right—of course. If he doesn't decide to forgive me, there's nothing else I can do. It's out of my hands until then."

Angel

" You'll be _fine,_ " he relented with a sink of his chin onto his head and a wide circle over Alastor's back, " You'll get along again. You'll get over y'selves. Even if ya don't, you'll still be fine. "

Alastor

They'll get along again. They'll be fine. His throat squeezed shut. He doubted Angel had any real way of knowing that was true, but he clung to it anyway.

He tried to nod, found he was buried too deep in fluff to complete the movement, and instead managed a garbled, "*Mhm.*"

Angel

" Mhm, " he echoed affirmatively, fingering a wayward curl back into place. At least as close a place he could figure. Angel then squeezed him tight around the shoulders before loosening into casual sweeps. " ... ... Ya smilin'? "

Alastor

He doubted it, but he prodded his cheek with the fingertips of the hand still over his mouth to check. "Mm-mm." That's a negative.

Angel

His lashes fluttered. He wasn't actually expecting him to say no. " Ok... I'll stay here, long as ya need to. If ya comfortable bein' a lil' ball. "

Alastor

"Mhm." Just a few more minutes. In a few more minutes he'd be able to collect himself. They'd get along again and they'd be fine, and if they didn't—if they didn't he'd face that when he had to.

Angel

" Mhm. " He wanted to chuckle. _Grunt after grunt._ Should he feel guilty about how _funny_ he found this? Probably. Only for the next few minutes as he cycled through the usual motions: playing with his hair, ears, rubbing his back, shoulders, the typical things clients found soothing before and after. Alastor had yet to protest, so he felt certain enough to venture he wasn't _bothered._ Nonetheless, they remained light, idle, all but absent minded. Working, but for a friend.

Alastor

He stayed there for several more minutes, until the idle background sensation of disembodied touches on his back and head slowly returned to what they usually were: prickly, uncomfortable reminders of another thinking feeling person pressed up against his body. He felt his shoulders start to tense and he pulled back a bit from the fluff. "Okay, that's—that's all I can handle."

Angel

" Handle? " Angel questioned as his arms dropped from Alastor's person in favor of leaning back on them, so he could remove himself on his own accord. " Interestin'... choice a words, there. " He tipped his sights to the corner of the room for a spell as he thought. " You ok? "

Alastor

He drew back and started straightening his clothes and brushing himself off—he had a smile back on, but God was it a tired-looking one. Dryly, he asked, “In what sense?”

Angel

" Er... relative sense. " Angel then cautiously leaned into the empty space. " Whataya mean, all ya can handle? "

Alastor

“My personal space bubble turned back on.” He stood up and continued tidying himself, brushing off his pants.

[loyally-unfaithful]

—; i’m bad behaviour but i do it in the best way

word count: 6320

pairing: connor | rk800/gender-neutral!reader

genre: fluff; kinda crack treated seriously

summary: « as a wise man once said: “you haven’t lived until you’ve committed at least one blue collar crime” – wh-i… literally no one said that! he sputtered in bewilderment. – i just did… you said as you stomped on your cigarette. or are you calling me unwise? – yes! that’s exactly what i’m calling you! he exclaimed. you chuckled. – oh come on… live a little. it’s not even that bad. you consoled. »

the android before you was conflicted. you could tell from his yellow led, which kept flickering and spinning. the guy was seriously debating this. he’s intrigued. he wants to try it out, you just have to egg him on.

« i won’t tell if you don’t? you offered. »

you’re sure you had a harder time persuading others compared to this detective model android...

a/n: the time has come. i have inspiration. i have motivation. i managed to unblock myself. i think it’s because of stress? i couldn’t write because of stress lmfao or maybe it’s cuz of that oc x canon snippet i did idk.

both.

and uh, the story went out of hand and evolved by itself.

ping. a small popup in the top right corner of his hud caught his attention as he rearranged his folders, neatly putting them in his bag.

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[ 1 ᴺᴱᵂ ᴹᴱˢˢᴬᴳᴱ: Love ]

> hey im outside waiting for u xx Noted. <

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he quickly replied and picked up the pace, securing his beanie and wrapping his scarf. grabbing his bag, he excused himself: « see you tomorrow, lieutenant. – wait! connor! the younger man stopped in his tracks, and turned to face the lieutenant. – just… you know how i feel about [ y/n ]... the android patiently waited for him to elaborate. – if you don’t feel comfortable doing what they want you to do, just... know that you don’t have to. he instructed. and if they force you, or hu— – hank. he gently interrupted. the older man stopped his tirade, a mix of emotions on his face: surprise. concern. annoyance. mostly concern. – hank, he restarted. i’ll be fine. he reassured him. i know you don’t trust them, and i can’t force you to, but have a little faith. “in me” in that last sentence unspoken. – i… fuck, i know… but- he grumbled. just, if you don’t feel safe, call me. ok? – of course. he answered. »

before stepping out of the building, the android looked back at his father figure, « take care, see you in the morning. », he did a small wave and threw his best pacifying smile. acute scans heard the older man’s resigned sigh and the twinkle of lingering concern in his features.

once out of the building, his sensors noted the drastic drop in temperature, the warmth and ambient brightness of within was replaced by the cold and windy dullness. it was a rather chilly night, clocking in at 14 degrees celsius, wind blowing rather harshly. wrapping his coat tighter around himself, he heads for where you normally park: take a right from the precinct, a few blocks away. when he reached you, you were leaning on your motorbike, preoccupied with something on your phone, and only noticing the android through his footsteps. looking up, you smirked, and stuffed your mobile into your pocket: « glad to see that they freed you, you said, flicking a cigarette butt away. – yes… i hope i didn’t make you wait too long? he greeted back. – nah, it’s fine. »

you chucked the spare helmet you brought towards him—which he caught effortlessly—« come on, i wanna show you something. »

the ride to the destination was uneventful: it was the usual fare. you sped through the traffic, weaving through the different vehicles at a speed connor was sure was much over the speed limit (he has since given up on informing you as you seemed to ignore him, not keen on slowing down anytime soon).

this location seemed to be some distance outside of the city, as the street grew narrower and darker. the sounds of other vehicles no longer accompanying them. all he could hear was the air that you were blazing through and the humming of the motorcycle underneath you. the cold wind blew from the direction you were heading, and he could feel the rush of air against his body, a sensation that, he figured, would feel chilly and unpleasant if he could “feel” cold. still, he instinctively clung tighter to your body to preserve body heat. he watched the scenery change, sights buzzing by; the dark sky grew clearer and clearer, until a few bright stars were visible unlike back in the heart of the city.

the motorcycle slowed down to a halt, and he dismounted the vehicle. « here we are, you struck out a hand to dramatically gesture at the building. my usual haunt. »—the android squinted as he scrutinised the place, but before he could get a good look, his sight abruptly turned to black, his eyes not yet caught up with the sudden change in lighting. it was as if someone turned off the light switch, the world suddenly plunged into darkness. and apparently somebody did: you finally joined him after turning off the bike, killing the only light source. nudging him to alert him of your presence, you pulled out a flashlight from your bag and flicked it on, illuminating the area once more. you headed towards the building, and twirled to face him. « tada! my happy place, where i usually come to relax after weeks of finals. you announced pridefully. »

[ ᴬᴺᴬᴸᵞˢᴵᴺᴳ ]

he regarded the place apprehensively. to say that it was what he expected it to be would be lie: what he expected to be a warm and rustic cottage, one that exudes cosiness, turned out to be the old remains of an unfinished construction, merely the skeleton of what would be commonhold. it was dark and dreary, shadows covering the empty spaces and the walls. some of the surface were left unfinished, making the “building” perforated, cold and unfriendly. brutal, even. It was clearly dirty, not taken care of, with rubble littering the floors. he analysed the building and was concerned over its structural integrity. it didn’t seem that stable… surely you wouldn’t…?

you noticed your boyfriend’s souring impression and quickly tried to redeem the monument in his eyes: « that look on you face… you hate this... don’t you? you winced. your question caught him off guard, causing him to fumble for a recovery. – i-uh… no! it… has a unique charm. – you’re allowed to be honest, you know? you sighed. – it’s … certainly not what i had in mind, he winced. you bit your lip in a nervous smile. it’s far from prim and proper for straight laced connor, but you hope that this doesn’t end in a disastrous date. – give it a chance, let me show you up there… you’ll love it! you grinned, trying to lighten the mood. »

entering the structure almost felt like entering a different reality: the white noises of the outside world, the hooting of owls, the chirping and buzzing of insects and the howl of the wind were dampened as soon as he followed you in. it was a different realm, where shade crawled about and reigned, the silence deafening and oppressive. « mind the step. you alerted him. » the murk did not deter you one bit, and, knowing the layout of the structure by heart, you led him through different twist and turns, avoiding what he deduced would be multiple deadends. only the light of the flashlight illuminating the way. he followed you obediently, not straying too far away from you, at the risk of becoming lost in this labyrinth. he observed the environment, perturbed. the area contained so many potential hazards, and the thought that you frequented this place often distressed him slightly: though he did not doubt your ability to take care of yourself, he didn’t like the idea that you could’ve potentially hurt yourself every time you went here. he snapped out of his musing millimetres away from colliding with you and directed his attention to what you were currently preoccupied by: a ledge that led to the second floor. « hey babe… how much do you weigh? he took a few moments to answer, but you quickly rephrased. – sorry, you chuckled, that turned out more personal that i thought. can you give me a leg up? you nodded at the protruding wall. the stairs that lead to the upper floors are blocked by rubble so i’m afraid this is our only way up. »

he simply nodded, you securing your light on your belt as he put himself in position against the wall to boost you up. the climb went through easily, and you quickly turned around to pull him up after his running jump. you both quickly stood up, the android dusting himself, ridding his clothes of soot and dust, before you start your trek once more.

« i was wondering—assuming you usually frequent this place on your own—how do you get over that wall by yourself? he asked. – with great difficulty, you answered truthfully. the android rolled his eyes. – obviously, he says, in that lilt that never fails to make you chuckle. – yeah? well i hope you’re not too tired today, ‘cause we have a bit more scaling to do. don’t want you slowing me down, you teased. – as if. he scoffed. »

once on the highest floor, you led him towards an open chamber whose floor was largely intact but had a large gaping hole on one side—one that helped ventilate the room who, compared to the rest of the building, was properly aerated, the air much cleaner and safer to breathe than the musty and stale odor down below. the opening allowed the moonlight to bathe the room in a soft glow, illuminating the occupants with an ethereal white. a second source of light caught his attention: a small fire that you ignited inside a metal drum, a flame whose heat was a pleasant contrast to the cold, an ember that highlighted the place with a stark, warm, orange glow against the satellite’s smooth, cold, bluish-white light.

you sat down unceremoniously on a worn out and unfinished windowsill—resembling more like a vaguely rectangular opening—the android joining you on the opposite side. lighting a cigarette, you took a deep breath and sighed, leaning back and gazing into the sable sky decorated by a plethora of stars. the man facing you mimicked your movements and gazed at the celestial bodies, little lights twinkling in the dark, innocent and brilliant. able to take his time to view the heavens, he noted that it resembles an elysian painting, tinted an aegean blue. accompanying the sight was the rumbles of a rock song he wasn’t familiar with, probably from a rock concert a few kilometres away—making a note to find out and identify the venue. he could feel the deep thrumming of the bass and vaguely hear the melody, and though the dampened music made it slightly harder for him to pin it down, he managed to identify it: a hit song from a local indie band. he turned to face you, your form peacefully resting against the wall behind you, eyes closed; features relaxed. breathing deeply, you blew puffs of smoke with a lazy, yet content, smile.

« so? what d’you think? your eyes were directly on him now. i know you had your reservations about this place...  »

there was a small twitch in your smile, a tell he caught that told him of your nervousness. despite his previous opinion of this place, he could see why you liked it, and considered it your happy place: it was a distance away from the big city, the air pollution and the noise. it was quieter and calmer here, without any of the loud colours and chatter that never seemed to cease. the location also provided a good view of the woods around it and the elegant skies above, along with ambient music. one that certainly fit your tastes, but at a distance that didn’t make the atmosphere overbearing. it was a good place to recharge; to rest and to think, away from the cumbersome responsibilities, if only for a little while.

« i like it... it has a unique charm. he found himself repeating himself. it’s a good place to escape. – do you? as if a switch was flicked, your uncertain demeanour was replaced with a cheeky grin. i’m glad this place grew on you! you stood up and placed yourself closer to the android, sinking back on him. – i... like places like these and exploring them… just glad i didn’t bore you away. »

you sighed as you settled comfortably against his chest, his arms quickly wrapping around your waist to cradle your form in a tight embrace. he replied with a hum of approval. placing a hand on yours, he brings it up and presses a kiss on your palm. you gently caressed his cheek as he did. « i’m never bored when i get to spend time with you, my love. he says softly, earnestly. – you’re not half bad yourself, babe. you replied. »

he smacked your arm in faux disdain as you placed a kiss on his jaw, and the conversation ended after that. It was quiet, but it wasn’t an awkward silence; no, it was a comfortable one. no other words uttered. just the two of you, the crackle of the flame, your thoughts and the heavens. connor is tracing soothing circles on the back of your hand, resting his head on the top of yours—his focus switching from the galaxy above and you—while you simply relish on the warmth of his presence and hum along to the song playing in the background. though you knew he meant what he said, you notice him start to fidget and become restless. you’re never sure if it was due to the fact that he was a tireless android or if it was simply a tic of his, but he’s unable to simply sit and be. he’s already analysed all that could be analysed in this place, and you know it’s something he can’t help but do. he had a constant need to be up and about, doing something or preoccupying his mind with something.

« beautiful night, tonight, isn’t it? you started, catching his attention. there was a few moments of silence before he answered. – but certainly not as charming as you. – ha. smooth one, anderson. » the flame in the drum is dying, the heat it brought fading away: an attestation of the time that has passed. it’s been that long huh? the band has changed to a different song, though it shows no signs of finishing anytime soon. you decided it was time to put connor out of his misery and do something else.

snapping up unto your feet—startling the android slightly—you offer a hand and pulled him up: « i got an idea. and it’s probably going to sound like a terrible, inane idea… – how foolish are we talking? he asked, unfazed after going through with multiple of your “dates”; including, but not limited to, urban exploration, base jumping, and graffiti (he still doesn’t know why he agreed… he remembers you saying « rebel against the humans! ») – i mean… it’s pretty tame considering the stuff i proposed before. you shrugged. he raised a brow in suspicion. – you... might be charged with criminal trespass… you admit and he looks horrified. but! but! you continued. that’s only if you get caught! which you wouldn’t be if you’re with me! you reassured him. – what are you planning to do, exactly? – i was thinking about sneaking in the concert and just bask in the energy. head for the moshpit or something. you’re bouncing off your ideas, hoping it might interest him. have fun, enjoy the music. – i’ve researched that venue, it’s a private property! do you know the charges that’ll be pressed against you? he asked, perplexed. – duh! it’s a misdemeanour trespass, as is stated in the michigan penal code: county jail for 30 days and/or a fine. section 750.552.. you answered nonchalantly. it don’t really matter! as i said: we won’t get caught. – how are so calm about breaking these laws? he questioned, perplexed. for a law student, you seem so adamant to break them… – look, con. i’m not gonna force you to do this. i love you, and i understand that you have a reputation to uphold, being a detective and all. you assured him. i don’t want you to feel that i’m peer pressuring you into this. – i… i don’t.. you notice how his eyes shift, looking to the far left, unable to make  eye contact. you notice that he’s conflicted, that he wants to do this, but doesn’t. you sigh. – look, we can walk back to the bike while you think about it, and you can tell me your decision once we’re there. alright? »

he doesn’t answer, but you know he heard you, so you start to make your way back down, the android following you wordlessly. once down by your bike, you lean on it—rather similarly to how he met you earlier today—and nod at him: « so? what’s you’re decision? – this sounds like a bad idea… still disagreeing, but not outright denying it. you meant what you said: you don’t want to make him do what he doesn’t want to do, but a partner in crime doesn’t sound half bad. you huff. – connor anderson. the connor anderson himself, who snuck into jericho. the same one who infiltrated cyberlife tower in what seemed to be a suicide mission. is scared of a little trespassing? you teased. live a little! – i don’t see how me committing a crime would contributes to my satisfaction with life. – haven’t you heard? as a wise man once said: “you haven’t lived until you’ve committed at least one blue collar crime” – wh-i… literally no one said that! he sputtered in bewilderment. – i just did… you said as you stomped on your cigarette. or are you calling me unwise? – yes! that’s exactly what i’m calling you! he exclaimed. you chuckled. – oh come on… live a little. it’s not even that bad. you consoled. »

the android before you was conflicted. you could tell from his yellow led, which kept flickering and spinning. the guy was seriously debating this. he’s intrigued. he wants to try it out, you just have to say the right things. problem with the rk800 models: they were much too curious for their own good.

« i won’t tell if you don’t? you offered. »

you seat yourself on your bike and turn back to face him: « so, are you in? a moment of silence. the android seemed to have a renewed confidence. – as a law enforcement officer, what’s stopping me from arresting you right now? his eyes held a newfound determination. you smirked lazily. – absolutely nothing. »

he swears to god, or ra9, or whatever higher power there is, that you will be the death of him.

« get off. your ordered. he followed the command without a word. – we’re gonna walk the rest of the way. you added. »

the concert venue was now at a reasonable distance away, and it was within eyeshot. however, that also meant that everything was much louder. he could now feel the boom of the loud music, and make out the lyrics.

« so i’ve stalked this place before, and i know an entry. here’s the plan: we’re gonna immediately go to the right side. the fence that side is less guarded, since there’s a ditch that leads there; we can hide in there. however there was a drone, just one, and a cctv camera—and we also need to look out for guards—alors fais gaffe1 ok? this far along and he still seemed hesitant, so you give one final push. – too late to back out now buddy. you’ll be fine though. just follow my lead and disable that camera. – wait! you glanced back at him. once inside, what do we do? – just act natural and have fun. you grinned. » and with that, you took off, making your way to the future crime scene. he sighed, still unsure on how you managed to coerce him into this, but jogged to catch up to you.

you hopped down in the ditch, connor not too far behind, and you quickly mentioned, while pointing at a sign that said “no androids allowed”: « by the way, you might want to keep that led of yours hidden. i’ve got some bobby pins if you need ‘em. you motioned to the beanie that he was currently adjusting. »

once he seemed satisfied with his changes, you asked him if he could tamper with the camera, which he swiftly disabled. you come out of your little hiding space and start climbing up the chain link fence, telling connor to keep an eye out for the security drone currently patrolling. what you forgot to tell him was the part where you were going to take it out, catching the android off guard as you throw yourself off the top part of the fence you were clinging on onto the passing drone. your swinging and flailing, combined with your weight pulling it down, caused the contraption to crash and the android—who seemed to have snapped out of his stupor—grabbed a metal pipe lying near the barrier and proceeded to smash the machine. chucking the object to the side, he went to help you up on you feet: « are you alright? – i’m fine. you looked at the metallic junk that was once a drone. we make a pretty good team, don’t you think? he looked back at the destroyed drone. – i don’t want to keep thinking about it… – destruction of property. you clicked your tongue. i’m proud of you con. you pretended to wipe a tear off your eyes. – let’s just go. he turned away , and you follow him up the fence with a chuckle. – cheer up con. you hopped over the chain. it’s okay… you’ve done worse. »

he was about to retort, when a figure seemed to head your way, and you both managed to duck out into a corner before being discovered by the flashlight. when it was clear, you snuck out of the hiding spot and proceeded to join the masses. it was different. he’s never been to a concert before. sure, he was a fan of rock, often listening to it with hank, but experiencing it live was so very different. he knew it would be loud, deafening, but he didn’t expect the surge of excitement and vivacity. it was exhilarating, a completely different world: the bright colours, the loud ambiance, the energy of the music. the android couldn’t help, but let himself get a bit excited. he was glad he decided to come though he’d never admit it to you.

you both floated around the edge of the crowd, the venue being full. it wasn’t a particularly big place, but there were quite a lot of people there, you mused out loud. must be a pretty popular band, their song being catchy enough. at some point or another, you both cheered along with the crowd (though he was much meeker in his cries), and for some reason, decided to try and wade through the people to get closer to the front—the moshpit—this time, the android seemed to play along with your plan without complaint.

he sort of wished he had now. you don’t really know when it happened, whether it was when you rummaged through the people or during a collision while moshing, lost in the intensity of the crowd—every member in state of ecstatic delirium. the beanie came off. when he realised, he quickly hid his led, which was a disturbed yellow, and notified you. you didn’t have to hear what he said to know what was happening. you quickly led him towards the “exit”, the immediate crowd—who saw the black sheep—parting like the red sea as you crossed, but as your neared the edge of the venue security finally reached and cornered you. you quickly placed yourself besides connor, sending across a relaxed body language. you discreetly grabbed his hand, and whispered « play along » which he wouldn’t have heard if he were human.

« how may we help you sir? you asked, flashing your friendliest smile. – i’m concerned about this friend of yours… his eyes glanced at your boyfriend, but you keep your eyes on him. connor was unfazed. perhaps because he trusted your ability in getting yourselves out of this mess—awww, you’re flattered—or that his model are used to high stress environment—most likely, but you certainly hope it was also because of the former. this was a darker area of the place, so it would obscure most of your features, and the band was still playing in the background—ignorant to the revelation—which would somewhat hide your voices. – what about him? curt and indignant. – androids are not allowed in this area. he pointed to the anti-android post outside the fence. the fence that led to freedom. i’m going to have to bring him in for trespass, and you for smuggling him in. androids were recognised as their own sentient species, but laws protecting them have yet to be passed: android-free zones were still legal. most places in the city removed their anti-android signs, but people from the periphery seemed more resistant to change. fuck. – oh that old thing? the led? that don’t prove nothing. you shrugged. be cool [y/n]. it’s just a temporary tattoo. motherfucker lost a bet. you thank whatever gods above that the rk800 models could somewhat control their led colour, so that his remained blue. – is that so? he turned to connor. you seemed adamant on hiding that led of yours. the asshat must have a grudge against androids, huh? You wished he’d just kick you out. make life easier for both parties. – it’s a fake tattoo. he played along. and it’s a bad one at that—i don’t want to be associated with those plastics… he grumbled. you cackled. – well, maybe you shouldn’t have lost that bet, michael. the guard in front of you grunted, displeased. he really wanted to bring in an android huh? prove something to someone? or just pure malice? you never really paid attention in psych class. – if that���s the case, since you’re both humans, i’d like to see your ticket.  »

you went rigid. clenching your jaw you planned your next course of action. you have your phone in your pocket, but there was nothing. you could surrender it, and run away as he was distracted, but he could then trace it back to you and press charges… you could fight? the both of you could easily overpower him, outrunning him wouldn’t be a problem either. but you’ll never hear the end of it if you decided to hurt someone when you had a more pacifist option, so you chose to run. it was abrupt. you were in a standoff, one party waiting for the other to make their move. and all of the sudden you make a break for it and dash off for the fence, your partner running for it too. there was a bit of a scuffle but you managed to fend him off long enough for you to scramble up the fence. the man quickly caught up and yanked your leg—alarming you—though a well placed kick from the other freed you long enough to jump off into the other side, ready to make a dash for your life as you land.

the two of you ran until you reached your bike, which was quite a distance away (thank fuck for that, at least he won’t follow you that far—unless he’s really fucking persistent), where you collapsed on the spot and panted slightly. the android himself was looking slightly weary. heavy breathing turned into wheezing laughter as the absurdity of what just transpired settled into your mind.

« i can’t believe that actually happened! you exclaimed between laughs. – we barely got out of there! he chided. we were almost arrested! – but we weren’t. told ya’ con. should’a believed me. you tsk-ed, having calmed down from the giggles. i’m insulted to be quite honest. you exploded into another fit of laughter. – i don’t know how i managed to get you to do this with me! you howled. – never again. he stated, a finality in his tone. – oh come on, you loved it. you rolled your eyes. he stared at you in silence, unimpressed. it was true, but you’ll never hear that from him. – i hate you, he frowned. – love you too babe, you responded, running a hand through your hair. »

he sighed and let himself fall beside you. taking out your backpack once more, you rummaged through and handed him an item: an inconspicuous water bottle. when asked what it was, you answered « thirium. that’s what you guys drink right? » as you opened your own water bottle, gulping down its content. he informed you that androids don’t need to constantly replenish the thirium in his body like humans did with water—only drinking them when they have lost a significant amount—but that he appreciated the gesture. “it’s the thought that counts”.

you huffed, slightly bashful, going into a tirade about how you can’t keep up with the constantly evolving technology. « you’re starting to sound like hank now. » he chuckled and you grimaced and pretended to vomit in response, though you joined him in his laughter. you both spent time sitting there. just breathing. coming down from your adrenaline rush.

« wanna crash at my place? you offered. – i’d be more than happy to, he obliged. »

that night, you both slept like a rock. well, you did. you completely conked out. connor peacefully entered stasis as he usually did. you arrived at your flat sometime in the morning and passed out. barely managing to blearily have a “shower”—dousing yourself in water—before passing out.

come later in the morning—when the light shone softly and the white noise of the city: ambient sound of traffic, chatter, chirping of pigeons—you were sleeping peacefully when you felt someone shift beside you, rousing you slightly from your slumber. you groaned as your head gains enough coherence to remember about university and the brunt of the waking world. think you’re gonna play hooky today. maybe kenneth can take notes for you… you made a note to ask him later...

unwrapping himself from you, your partner stood up to get ready to go to work—going off to change into neater clothings that he stored in your house and getting decent—and went off to prepare a pot of coffee for you and stick bread in the toaster. feeling the sudden loss of heat as he went away, your sleep heavy mind blindly felt the portion of the bed that he usually slept on—the right—patting it, looking for the missing presence. this went on for a few minutes and your limb felt heavy as your tired body fell back asleep. you resigned to simply poke your arm from under the cover, hoping it’d catch someone. you were half asleep when the reaching hand finally found something, as it was held and gently guided to another’s cheek, yet another kiss pressed on your palm. you felt your heart melt, and hummed approvingly. « stay. you mumbled. he smiled at your naïve request. – i have to go to work. – skip work… f… ight the government… you yawned. – you know i can’t do that, my love. – i… order you... you sleep riddled mind was struggling to keep up as you slowly dozed again. to… – i’ll see you again this evening, i’ll be right back. oh yeah it’s saturday, you reminded yourself. no classes. you mentally cheered. – okk… you were going to pass out again. »

his warmth left you, and you find yourself yearning for it again. before he left, he glanced back towards you—practically buried under the duvet, only visible as a lump under the blanket and the hand poking through the right side. « i love you, [y/n] »

you were too gone to reply, but regardless, he left for work with a small smile.

work went on as usual. filling reports was boring, but it had to be done. at least he could finish them in record time, built to be more efficient at it than your typical human officer. being a detective assigned to the anti-android crimes taskforce, it was rather quiet right now, and though he was grateful that androids weren’t being harmed, it was terribly boring. though colin, who had to start all the way back at the beginning as a beat cop, seemed to be enjoying a peaceful break. he sighed for the umpteenth time as he fidgeted and fiddled with his coin, having already abused the fun out of his multiple pens and pencils. he missed spending time with you; at least it was exciting and unpredictable (getting to be with you is an enjoyable bonus). he stared blankly at his coin and sighed again. his father figure gave him a look across the desk—“did anything happen?”. he shook his head.—“no nothing bad or dangerous happened while i was with [y/n].”. the android then asked if he fancied a cup of coffee from the coffee shop across the road. the old man simply grunted.

« you can just take a walk, you don’t need to use me as a fucking excuse. – alright. he answered placidly. »

the android thought about walking to stretch his legs. maybe go to that bakery that you fancied so much. you did like the strawberry shortcake a crazy amount. but as he would find out, the slow and easy moments shouldn’t be taken for granted: a very disgruntled man, who stormed in to file a police report, happened to run in with the android, still somewhat deep in his musings. oh boy was he in for a rude awakening.

they both promptly apologise, however, once they saw each other they instantly recognised each other—though the detective kept his face neutral. « you! you’re the fucking android that trespassed into a restricted area! he accused. straight faced, he replied calmly. – i am indeed an android, but i believe you may have accused the wrong one. there often many iterations of the same model. he cursed his stars and the fates that put him in this situation. one that meant he was, as hank would put it, in deep shit. »

he was glad most people didn’t know there were only 2 rk800 currently in circulation: him and his brother, colin, whom he was trying to contact. as connor continued trying to placate the angry man, and deny his involvement in anything, he heard his brother’s voice come through.

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[ ᵂᴴᴬᵀ'ˢ ᵁᴾ? ] > [ ᵀᴴᴱᴿᴱ ᴵˢ ᴬ ᴹᴬᴺ ᴼᵁᵀ ᴴᴱᴿᴱ, ᶜᴸᴱᴬᴿᴸᵞ ᵛᴱᴿᵞ ᶜᴿᴼˢˢᴱᴰ, ᵂᴴᴼ ᵂᴼᵁᴸᴰ ᴸᴵᴷᴱ ᵀᴼ ᶠᴵᴸᴱ ᴬ ᴾᴼᴸᴵᶜᴱ ᴿᴱᴾᴼᴿᵀ. ] he decided to give him a clear picture.

[ SENDING AUDIO-VISUAL FEED TO RK800 #313 248 317-60—COLIN ] [ LINK ESTABLISHED. WAITING PERMISSION… ] [ ACCEPTED. ]

> [ ᴬ ᵀᴿᴱˢᴾᴬˢˢ ᴼᴺ ᴾᴿᴵᵛᴬᵀᴱ ᴾᴿᴼᴾᴱᴿᵀᵞ ᴮᵞ ᴬ ᴰᴱᵛᴵᴬᴺᵀ ] there was a moment of silence before his brother replied. [ ᵂᴴᴬᵀ ᵀᴴᴱ ᴴᴱᴸᴸ ᴰᴵᴰ ᵞᴼᵁ ᵀᵂᴼ ᴳᴱᵀ ᴵᴺᵀᴼ ᴸᴬˢᵀ ᴺᴵᴳᴴᵀ? ] > [ ᴵ ᴬᴾᴾᴿᴱᶜᴵᴬᵀᴱ ᴴᴼᵂ ᵞᴼᵁ ᴵᴹᴹᴱᴰᴵᴬᵀᴱᴸᵞ ᴬˢˢᵁᴹᴱᴰ ᴵᵀ ᵂᴬˢ ᵁˢ. ] connor replied, sarcastic but devoid of humour. [ ᵂᴱᴸᴸ? ᵂᴬˢ ᴵᵀ ᴿᴱᴬᴸᴸᵞ ᵞᴼᵁ ᵀᵂᴼ? ] the android, who somehow felt a migraine develop—even though that shouldn’t be possible—sighed. > [ ᴸᴼᴺᴳ ˢᵀᴼᴿᵞ ˢᴴᴼᴿᵀ, ᵂᴱ ᵀᴿᴱˢᴾᴬˢˢᴱᴰ ᴵᴺᵀᴼ ᴬᴺ ᴬᴿᴱᴬ ᵂᵂ ˢᴴᴼᵁᴸᴰ'ᵛᴱ ᴬᵛᴼᴵᴰᴱᴰ. ] > [ˢᴱᴺᴰ ᴴᴱᴸᴾ? ] [ ᵞᴼᵁ? ᶜᴼᴹᴹᴵᵀᴱᴰ ᴬ ᶜᴿᴵᴹᴱ ᴼᴺ ᵞᴼᵁᴿ ᴼᵂᴺ ᵛᴼᴸᴵᵀᴵᴼᴺ? ]

the android could hear his brother cackle at his misery. though outside of earshot, the sound echoes in his mind as the link was not yet severed.

[ ᴺᴬᴴ, ᵞᴼᵁ'ᴿᴱ ᴼᴺ ᵞᴼᵁᴿ ᴼᵂᴺ ᴼᴺ ᵀᴴᴵˢ ᴼᴺᴱ ] [ ᴳᴼᴼᴰ ᴸᵁᶜᴷ ᵀᴴᴼᵁᴳᴴ. ] [ ᴴᴬᴺᴷ'ˢ ᴳᴼᴺᴺᴬ ᴮᴱ ᴾᴵˢˢᴱᴰ ] and with that, his brother abandoned him.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

the man was absolutely irate, convinced that he was the one who trespassed in the venue—he wasn’t wrong—be he kept accusing someone of the same profile as him, but named “michael”. you really did him a favour on that one. it seemed like salvation had come however, as hank intercept the confrontation—the man calmed down after seeing a human officer. his brother must’ve informed the lieutenant (connor wants to thank him, but not), knowing how the appearance of two rk800s would only aggravate the situation. through a stroke of luck, the man didn’t have enough evidence to successfully file a report—against an rk800 named “michael”... who didn’t exist.

but to say that hank was pissed was an understatement. thus begins the walk of shame as hank demanded to « talk in private ». at the end of a severe tongue-lashing, decorated with many “fuck”s and “shit”s, he was in a sour mood and positively fuming. forget the shortcake. he was absolutely going to get back at you for this.

you were snoozing peacefully, off in dreamworld, when you woke up to the buzzing of your phone. groggy, you ran you hand under the pillows and felt for the object until you found it. checking it revealed that you 27 missed calls from an unknown number and a few message from them:

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

unknown number [ two missed message ]

> what the fuck did you get connor into? > ???????

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

bzz. bzz. a new message?

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

unknown number [ 1 new message ]

> i know you saw the messages, fuckibg answer

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

you also had a new message from connor, though his message didn’t bode well for you either:

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

connard2 anderson <3 [ 1 missed message ]

> we need to talk. > ):<

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

the use of the emoji made you chuckle, but you were scared of what the future brought for you. oh boy… you were in deep shit weren’t you…

e͟p͟i͟l͟o͟g͟u͟e͟:

you lived to see another day. hank gave you an even more brutal scolding than what connor received, and you swore that if this were a shitty choice-that-matters game you’d see a metre for his friendship go down. not that there was much there in the first place.

connor gave an even more punishing sanction: he gave you the absolute silent treatment for a month. no talking, no hugs nor cuddles, and only the odd texts once in a blue moon. an absolutely miserable 31 days for you, spent by sulking. safe to say this was a punishment you’ll never forget, and one that will discourage you from ever trying that kind of stunt ever again.

or at least when connor’s around. it’s free game when it’s just you by yourself. connor knows this and simply sighs in resignation and just hopes you don’t get yourself in potentially future career ruining situation...

f͟o͟o͟t͟n͟o͟t͟e͟s

1. french expression that i was too lazy to translate, essentially means “watch out/stay alert”,,, somewhere along those lines, but informal. 2. connard is a french word pronounced almost like connor, but it means shithead. reader i have a strange sense of humour.

like my work? consider buying me a coffee // checking out my masterlist | links can be found on my desc

[damianwaynerocks]

Damian’s Journal - Why I’m Not Allowed to Work With Mystery Incorporated Anymore Even Though I Was Completely Justified in my Actions

 Bruce, on the advice of Dinah Lance, is forcing Damian to start a journal. This series is just that, his journal entries.

This entry is about Damian Wayne meeting the Scooby-Doo gang

Word Count: 1592

A/N: Yo, this is a crack fic. Enjoy.

Masterlist

__

Dear Journal (Not a diary)

So, hello, I guess. My name is Damian Wayne. Grayson, my older brother, suggested I start writing a journal. Of course, I strongly objected to this, however after talking to Dinah Lance, Father agreed that it would help with my 'trauma.'

I'm not allowed to go back and edit this so if there are spelling errors, my apologies.

So I suppose my first entry will be about the mayhem that happened with Mystery Incorporated.

We'd heard reports of reports of a group of people sneaking around Wayne Enterprises so of course we had to check it out. Father didn't want me to go because 'you have homework damian' but Wayne Enterprises is MY birthright so?? Of course I had to go??

I followed Father and Grayson carefully and because I am me, Damian Wayne, they didn't notice me behind them. I caught up to them right as they had surrounded the group of teenagers and surprisingly there was?? No fighting??

Apparently they knew each other??

"Batman!" a boy with blonde hair and an atrocious-looking ascot around his neck yelled.

Seriously who wears ascots anymore?? Pennyworth would faint if he saw that.

Father narrowed his eyes. "Fred," he grunted, "And the rest of you. What are you doing in Gotham this time?"

"Somebody's been dressing up as a vampire and scaring people away from Wayne Enterprises at night," a girl in an orange sweater replied, "So we were checking it out. You seriously didn't know about this?"

"I've had my hands full."

By having his hands full, Father meant going off-world to deal with some space threat because of course Hal Jordan couldn't handle it on his own. The imbecile.

I was away, also, on a mission with my best friend, Jon. He's alright I suppose. Annoyingly positive, but alright. He eats vegan burgers with me, at least.

Grayson had been in Bludhaven so we had entrusted Todd to watch Gotham but of course he missed something as significant as a threat to Wayne Enterprises?? I decided I would have a talk with him whenever he returned.

It was then I saw him.

My body buzzed with excitement. It was a dog.

And then it happened.

THE DOG TALKED.

THIS IS NOT A DRILL, I REPEAT, THE DOG  T A L K E D

"Reah, we were helping!" the dog barked gleefully.

I screamed in excitement and fell off the lamp post I had been holding on to.

I couldn't help it, and you couldn't have helped it either if you saw it.

Everybody looked at me.

"Robin," Batman growled, "I told you to stay behind!"

"Yeah, Robin, you had an essay to do!" Grayson agreed.

"How do you expect me to focus on an essay whenever there is a talking dog!?" I demanded as I walked to the hound.

The dog narrowed his eyes. "Rog? Where?"

"Like, hi Robin," a lanky boy who looked like he lived off marijuana and those ridiculous memes that Drake loved greeted, "This is Scooby-Doo."

"Hello Scooby-Doo it is an honor to meet you I am so excited," I babbled as I scratched him behind his ears. I usually would not act like such a child but. This is a talking dog.

"Come back with us to the Bat Cave," Father said to Ascot-Guy, who must be their team leader which is a terrible decision in my opinion because?? An ASCOT?? In 2020??

So anyways, we then went back to the Cave after blindfolding the group because there was no way we were trusting a team who entrusted their safety to an ascot-wearing buffoon to know the location of the Cave.

Father drove their vehicle, a van that looked like it was painted while lanky-guy smoked marijuana, to the Cave while Grayson rode in the Bat Mobile and I drove my Red Bird.

We got to the Cave and I instantly hopped off my motorcycle and threw open the back of the van where the dog was and enveloped him in a hug. "Let's go, Scooby-Doo, I can show you my sword collection!" I said excitedly before Father rested a hand on my shoulder.

"No time, Robin," he said, "We need a plan on how to catch this vampire."

"Oh, we have a plan," Ascot said with a wave of his hand, "Velma, Daphne and I are going to put a trip-wire down which will drop a barrel on top of him, and then we'll rush forward with chains and tie him up."

"How will you get him to fall for the trip-wire?" Grayson asked.

"Well, we'll use Shaggy and Scooby as bait, of course."

I saw red. I was shaking in fury. They were going to use?? The DOG?? As BAIT????? They were going to put the DOG IN DANGER???

Not on my watch, no sir.

"Absolutely not!" I exploded, "You are not going to put that dog in danger!! What is wrong with you, you ascot-wearing oaf!! I should call the police on you right this instant for animal cruelty!!"

Ascot blinked and took a step back. "S-Sorry Robin, it's just tradition!"

"No way!" Marijuana Man said, "I agree with the scary one! Kind of. Like, no police, but Scooby and I do not want to be bait!"

"Oh no, you can be bait," I said.

"Oh, come on guys!" Orange Girl urged, "I'll give you a Scooby Snack!"

"Scooby Snack!?" Scooby barked, "Roh boy! Rive me on of rose!"

"Like, oh boy, oh boy!" Marijuana Ma- Shaggy, agreed.

My eyes widened. "You would put your beloved friend in danger for a dog biscuit!?"

"Like, try one, kid!" Shaggy said, handing him a biscuit. I scrunched my nose at it but bit into it anyways.

When I tell you that it was the most amazing thing that has ever graced my tastebuds, I mean it.

It tasted like the feeling of working with Richard. It tasted like heaven. It tasted like the feeling of defeating a bad guy. It tasted like the feeling of saving an innocent. It was better than even Pennyworth's cooking.

Of course, I couldn't let them know that, though.

"Give me that!" I snapped, ripping the box from her hand, "I will be confiscating this."

Really, though, I just wanted it for myself and to give to Pennyworth so he could hopefully find some on Amazon.

"I will be bait instead of Scooby-Doo," I declared, "Because clearly you people care more about food than safety."

"Robin, you do know that being bait requires you to act scared, right?" Grayson asked gently. I scoffed.

"Of course it does, and I can act scared!"

I meant it, too. I would just pretend I was watching that Hereditary movie that I went and saw with Todd.

Or that time I walked in on Drake and Brown having coitus in the Bat Cave.

That is the real trauma I need to write in this journal for. Growing up with assassins? Forget it. Dying? No big deal. Seeing Drake's genitals? I will be needing years of therapy for that.

So that's how I ended up outside my inheritance building with Shaggy. I was dressed in civilians clothes with sunglasses to hide my identity.

"Like, you know only weird people wear sunglasses in the dark, right?" Shaggy said, taking a bite of a hotdog he had pulled out of nowhere.

"Incorrect," I disagreed, "My brother happens to say that only cool people wear sunglasses in the dark."

"If you say so."

We were loitering outside the building and I was bored.

"Do you smoke marijuana?" I asked bluntly. Shaggy choked on his hotdog.

"Like, no?"

I opened my mouth to argue with him before we heard a screech. I looked up and saw a poor costume of a vampire coming towards us.

Shaggy screamed and started to run and, picturing Drake's thing in my mind, I screamed and ran after him, through the double doors of the building.

We hopped over the trip-wire, and skidded to a halt in front of the stairs. The vampire was running towards us but gave a weird yelp whenever it tripped.

At that moment, a barrel fell from the ceiling and landed on the creature. Ascot-Man and Grayson jumped out of the shadows, tying the creature up in chains.

"Ah ha!" A lady with red hair- Daphne, I think -yelled victoriously. "Not so scary now, are ya?"

Velma followed her out of the shadows, Father close behind. Velma took off the vampire mask, and revealed- my English teacher??

I wasn't really shocked, though. He was a Trump supporter.

Velma rattled off obvious reasons why he was in Wayne Enterprises and apparently he just?? Wanted into the safe??

There's so many more easier ways to do that than dressing up as a vampire??

So that was that. Kind of. We tied the guy up, calling Gordon, and left and went back to the Bat Cave where we saw Scooby-Doo sleeping on top of the dinosaur.

Scoobysaurous Rex perked up as he heard us come in, and his tongue lolled as he ran down the tail of the statue and jumped into Shaggy's arms.

Father congratulated them but me?? I absolutely did not.

I once again gave them an earful about how irresponsible they were to put Scooby-Doo in danger.

"If I find out you have done that again I will personally have your liver on a platter-"

Grayson interrupted me with a nervous laugh. "He's just kidding!! He'll just send you a strongly worded email!!"

I glared at him before turning back to Ascot-Man. "And another thing!! An ascot!! In 2020!! What is wrong with you!?" I tore it off of his neck and huffed, "There, now you look slightly less idiotic."

And then Father sent me to my room.

So yeah that's what happened there. I've been keeping tabs on them and so far I have seen no sign of them putting the dog in danger.

Good riddance. Because I would have indeed sent them a strongly worded email as well as the liver thing.

- Damian

[thewalkingdead-fan101]

In This Hell Daryl Dixon X Reader Part 4/??

Hey Guys! Part 4 is here! I really hope that you guys enjoy it! I also apologise if something isn't written correctly. :) Warnings- General Walking dead warnings, Blood, Gore, Swearing.

Opening my eyes, I sit up uncomfortably as I stretch. 
Last night, the group had a restless nights sleep… well more so than usual.
Daryl left in the middle of the night, to look for Sophia, and still hasn’t come back. Carol was up all night crying… 
Not that I blame her, Her daughter is missing.
"Morning." "Morning Carol." I smiled softly. "Where's Daryl?" She asked watching the door behind me. "He left last night, and went looking, still hasn't come back that I know of.” "Oh.. My, I am so sorry." "Don't be.. He is a grown man, he can handle himself." "I really do appreciate this." "I know that if it was my child out there you'd help to find them." She softly smiled nodding, then hugged me. "I'll see what's going on." I smiled and walked out.
I look out and seen Daryl, leaning against the traffic barrier, exhaling smoke.
 We locked eyes from across the car wrecks.
“At least he is okay.” I said under my breath.
I walked over to where the everyone was gathering supplies for their search party.
“Morning Glenn." I smiled, walking past. "Everyone. Come here." We all walked towards where Rick was. He unfolded an arsenal on the hood of a car. "Everybody takes a weapon." "These aren't the kind of weapons we need. What about the guns?" Andrea asked, "We've been over that. Daryl, Rick and I are carrying. We can't have people popping off rounds every time a tree rustles." My brother answered "It's not the trees I'm worried about." "Say somebody fires at the wrong moment, a herd happens to be passing by. See, then it's game over for all of us. So you need to get over it." Shane said. "The idea is to take the creek up about five miles, turn around and come back down the other side. Chances are she'll be by the creek... It's her only landmark." Daryl said. "Stay quiet, stay sharp. Keep space between you, but always stay within sight of each other." "Everybody assemble your packs." Shane announced. They better not think that I'm staying here. "Shane" I ran after him. "Yeah?" He asked.
 Before I got the chance to say anything, arms wrapped around me and started to carry me away. I didn't scream because Shane was laughing as soon as it happened, so it wasn't a walker. I was put down away from everyone. "How-" My back was pushed against a car, and his lips crashed to mine.. I bit his lip, not hard but not soft. "What was that for?!" "For not letting me know that you were okay…” I said sweetly. “Ya don’t need to worry about me.”
“I do though… I worry about you.” "I'll see ya later." He said softly kissing my neck. "Huh?" "You're gonna be staying here while we look for Sophia." He continued. I rolled my head back. "Okay… I will see you when you get back.” I closed my eyes and the sensation stopped. My eyes shot open to see Daryl, running towards the group. I scoffed when realisation hit me. He hit me where I was most vulnerable… I smirked, that asshole. I walked back to the RV. "Why are you so happy?" "That man... Deserves an award for that." We looked at each other and laughed. "Where's Dale?" We both got up and looked atop the RV. "Ain't you supposed to be fixing that radiator? What if they come back with Sophia and Rick wants to move on right away?" "I had it fixed yesterday." "What? What was all that rubbing and sanding for then? That just bullshit?" "Yeah, that's one word, another word would be pantomime. Just for show… No one else needs the know that." "Pantomime…” T-dog sighed. "If the others know we're mobile-" "They'd just want to go." I answered. "So you don't think they're gonna find Sophia, that it?" "I'm just guarding against the worst. Sooner or later, if she isn't found, people will start doing the math. I want to hold off the needs-of-the-many-versus-the-needs-of-the-few arguments as long as I can." "That's one tricky hose, huh?" "Very." Dale smiled. "Look I'm going to look around for a bit, is there anything I need to look for?" "Not at this moment. But please, please stay close." Dale said. I grabbed a duffel bag I found laying on the ground earlier, slinging it over my shoulder. "Stay safe." "Will do."
 I was walking around for almost two hours and the bag was almost full. I heard a shuffle behind me and turned quickly, only to see a rabbit run across the highway, I smiled and sighed when I heard a snarl. I looked back to see a walker coming my way I looked down and saw a stick, ducking down and picking it up I lodged it into its eye, over and over again, it's blood splattered all over my shirt, neck and face. I decided to walk back and as I arrived I over-heard Dale and T-dogs conversation. "What are we doing?" "Pulling supplies together." "No, I mean.. What are we doing? People off in the woods, they's looking for that poor girl and we're here. Why? Because they think that we're the weakest. What are you, 70?" "Sixty-four." "Uh huh. And I'm the one black guy. Realise how precarious that makes my situation?" "What the hell are you talking about?" "I'm talking about two good-old-boy cowboy sheriffs and a redneck whose brother cut off his own hand because I dropped a key.. Who in that scenario you think is gonna be first to get lynched?" "You can't be serious... Am I... Hey, am I missing something? Those Cowboys have done alright by Us. And if I'm not mistaken that redneck went out of his way to save your ass… More than once." "And don't forget about Andrea. Kills her own sister." "She was already dead." "Then wants to blow herself up. Yeah, she's all there." "She's having a tough time. What is wrong with you?" "The whole world is having a tough time. Damn, man! Open your eyes. Look where we are! Stuck in this mess here!" "Shhh." "Let's just go.. Let's just take the RV." "You've gone off the deep end." "I mean it, man. Why are we on the side of the road like live bait? Let's go, you and me and (Y/n). Let's go before they get back." "Oh, my god! You're burning up. Give me that! Come on! Here, take these. We've got to knock that fever down....where the hell are they?" "Dale, We are the weak links. An old man, a black guy and a little pregnant (Y/S/T) girl." I took a deep breath in and what was being said. 
“Nice to know what really goes on in that head of yours Theodore.. There should be some drugs in the bag." I said throwing the duffel bag at him.
 As the bag landed in front of Theodore, I noticed the two of them slowly stand up. 
“Oh, my god! Is that blood?" Dale rushed over. "Yeah. I took down a walker. It’s no big deal.” “No big-“ dale started but was interrupted by a loud scream erupted from the forest. Both Dale and I hurried to the Forrest line. All of a sudden it was quiet. After about 10 minutes of standing there waiting, I was about to walk away.
 "They're back." Dale said. "Carl's been shot." Glenn said stepping over the railing. "Shot? What do you mean shot?" "I don't know, Dale, I wasn't there. All I know is this chick rode out of nowhere like Zorro on a horse and took Lori." "And you let her?" Dale asked. I hugged Carol as she shook her head, after a few seconds she left for the RV. "Climbed down out of my asshole, man. Rick sent her, she knew Lori's Name and Carl's." Daryl said walking past, not even acknowledging that I was there. "I heard screams, was that you?" Dale asked Andrea. "She got attacked by a walker. It was a close call." "Andrea, are you alright?" She looked at him and the look on her face showed pure annoyance. "Let's go." We started to walk back when all of a sudden Daryl burst out of the RV, running towards us. Next thing i know is that I was being crushed in a hug. "You do know that if I can't breathe neither can the baby." I laughed softly. He pulled back mumbling something when he looked down. "Why are ya bloody?" I stayed silent. "Answer me." "I was attacked by a walker, and before you go and yell at them for it, I decided to look for supplies." "You are on lockdown, from now on, you ain't being alone." "Daryl, I’m not going to be a damsel in distress, or bait. Im not going to be in lock down.” "You're on lockdown! You ain't gonna be Bait and you ain't gonna be alone." “I guess that there is no point in arguing?” “Nah, there ain't. This conversation is over.” 
We both returned to the group.

“The girl on the horse, Maggie, she gave us clear instructions on how to get to the farm. We could all relocate there.” Glenn suggested.
“I won't do it. We can't just leave.” Carol defended. “Carol, the group is split. We're scattered and weak.” Dale tried reasoning. “What if she comes back and we're not here? It could happen.” She argued “If Sophia found her way back and we were gone, that would be awful.” Andrea cut in. “Okay. We got to plan for this. I say tomorrow morning is soon enough to pull up stakes. Give us a chance to rig a big sign, leave her some supplies. I'll hold here tonight, stay with the RV.” Daryl spoke. “If the RV is staying, I am too.” “Thank you. Thank you both.” Carol smiled softly at Dale and Daryl. “I’m in.” Andrea nodded. “Well, if you're all staying then I’m-“ “Not you, Glenn. You're going. Take Carol's Cherokee.” Dale argued “Me? Why is it always me?” “You have to find this farm, reconnect with our people and see what's going on. But most important, you have to get T-Dog there. This is not an option. That cut has gone from bad to worse. He has a very serious blood infection. Get him to that farm. See if they have any antibiotics, the ones that (Y/n) found won’t help for much longer. Because if not, T-Dog will die, no joke.” Dale stated. Out of the corner of my eye I watched Daryl walk over to Merle’s motorcycle. “Keep your oily rags off my brother's motorcycle. Why'd you wait till now to say anything? Got my brother's stash. Crystal, X. Don't need that. Got some kick ass painkillers. Doxycycline. Not the generic stuff neither. It's first class. Merle got the clap on occasion.” 
He tossed over a bag of assorted drugs, then pointed at me. “You, get ya stuff. You’re going with Glenn and Dog.” 
“Excuse me?”
 “You heard me.” He said walking away.

I ran after him. 
“Daryl, I want to stay, I want to be here for Carol.” 
“I don’t care what ya want.”
 “Why are you acting like this?”
 “Im already babysitting the others. Im not babysitting you too.”
 “Are you being serious? I don’t need to be babysat!” 
“You’re an easy target out here. It’s almost dark. You’re going with them.”
“Daryl-“
 “I ain’t arguing with ya. Get your shit.” He stalked off. I sighed in defeat and entered the RV, grabbing my backpack, making sure that I had the book that has become my new best friend, along the journey.
 As I exited the RV I noticed Glenn helping T-dog into the Cherokee.
Making my way towards the car, I was pulled aside and into a hug.
“Thank you. For everything.” Carol sniffled into my shoulder.
 “Hey, we’re going to find her.” I responded hugging her closer. I could feel her body softly shake against mine as she sobbed.
 “You’re so strong Carol, Sophia needs that when she comes back. She needs you at your best.” I pulled away and wiped the tears from her cheek. “I will see you again soon.” I smiled softly. “Please, Make sure you tell Lori that I’m praying for Carl.” “I will. Stay safe.” I walked over to where Glenn was talking to T-Dog and Dale.

“You’re coming?” T-dog asked. 
“I didn’t really have a choice in the matter.” I sarcastically laughed. “It may be the safest place for you. Especially in your predicament.” Andrea stated.
“In my predicament?” I scoffed “I didn’t mean to offend you.” Andrea sighed pulling me in for a small hug.
“It’s fine.” 
“I think it’s time for you guys to hit the road, while there’s still some daylight. Dont want to be taking any wrong turns.” Dale smiled. “Dale, Just remember, Backtrack to Fairburn road, the farm is two miles down. The mailbox says Greene.” Glenn stopped.
 “Fairburn, two miles down, Greene.” He nodded. “Where’s Daryl?” I asked hopeful. “Im not sure.” Dale smiled sadly.
 “Make sure you’re all safe please… Thank you.” I replied hugging him, getting into the car, behind T-dog. 
“I will.” Dale nodded. 
Glenn put the Cherokee in reverse, slowly peeling out before turning around.
As the car was turning, I spotted a pair of eyes watching, leaning against one of the trees. “Fairburn isn’t that far. Maybe 10 minutes?” Glenn spoke up, trying to fill the silence.
“Is this really a good idea? I mean we don’t even know who these people are.” I responded. 
“They seem normal. I mean why would Rick send someone to us if they were going to hurt us?”
 “Crazier things have happened.” T-dog muttered. “Come on guys, we need to be positive. They’re helping Carl. They don’t need to.” Glenn stated.
 After turning onto Fairburn Road, we continued on for the two miles. 
“Glenn. I think we missed it.”
 “What?” 
“The farm, I think we missed it…”
 “Are you sure?” He asked pulling up. “I think so? We’re looking for Greene right?” I asked. 
“Yeah.” He sighed. “How far?” 
“Not that far… I think it’s the one behind us, I’ll go check.” I went to open the door. “No. Daryl will kill me if something happens. I’ll just back up.” He smiled nervously. 
He put the car into reverse, making sure to shine the headlights onto the mailbox when it entered our view.
 “You were right… Greene.” 
“Ill get the gate. There’s no walkers around, and it looks safe to me.” I smiled, jumping out and walking toward the gate, not leaving any time to argue. 
“(Y/n)! Get back in the car! Glen whisper shouted from the driver side window. Unlatching the chain, I pushed the gate inwards and followed through. 
“Glenn, hurry up and drive in.” 
The car slowly started rolling forward, stopping a metre away from the gate.
I pushed it closed and re-latched the gate before jumping back into the car. “Lets go.” I smiled. Glenn shook his head and T-dog chuckled. We drove down the road, leading towards a beautiful farm house.
Stopping the car we all got out and walked up the front steps.
 “You okay T?” I asked looking over as he shivered, only for him to nod.
We all stopped and looked at the front door. “So do we ring the bell? I mean it looks like people live here.” Glenn looked at us. “We're past this kind of stuff, aren't we? Having to be considerate.” T-dog asked. “Did you close the gate up the road when you drove in?”
I jumped, looking over to where the voice came from, watching a young woman with short brown hair, stand up and walk toward us. “Uh, hi. Yes, we closed it. Did the latch and everything. Hello. Nice to see you again. We met before briefly.” Glenn rambled. “Look, we came to help. There anything we can do? It's not a bite. I cut myself pretty bad though.” “We'll have it looked at. I'll tell them you're here.” “We have some painkillers and antibiotics. I already gave him some. If Carl needs any…” “Come on inside. I'll make you something to eat.” She smiled at us.
We followed her inside, to see Rick and Lori standing in one of the door frames.

“Hey” Glenn patted him on the shoulder. “Hey” he returned it. “Um, we're here, okay?” Glenn nodded. “Thank you.” Lori sighed. “Whatever you need.” T-dog added, stepping aside for me. “Lori.” I pulled her in for a hug.
“(Y/n/n).” She hugged back as hard as I did.
We pulled away.
 “What are you doing here?” She asked. “I was overruled by Daryl. I wanted to make sure that you guys are okay…” I smiled softly pushing her hair out of her face. She laughed softly, her eyes rimmed red from the tears.
 “How is Carl? What’s happening?” I asked. “He was shot, the bullet, it, it broke. A fragment has caused internal bleeding. He is having seizures and its terrifying me. This man Hershel, he is going to operate... one of his group shot Carl, he is with Shane trying to find a respirator I think... I could lose my boy.” She responded tears streaming down her face.
“Oh honey.” I puled her back in for another hug.
 “You Grimes’ are strong. He will pull through. Go, be with your husband and your boy. I’ll be out here.” I smiled as she nodded. “Thank you.” She said looking at me before disappearing into the room. 
I followed the direction Glenn and T-dog went, entering a kitchen/dining area. “(Y/n), this is Maggie and this is Patricia...” Glenn introduced me. “Nice to meet you both. Thank you for your hospitality.” “You got here right in time. This couldn't go untreated much longer, ‘Merle Dixon’,  Is that your friend with the antibiotics?” Patricia asked, looking after T-dogs arm. “No, ma'am. Merle's no longer with us. Daryl gave us those, his brother.” Glenn responded. “Not sure I'd call him a friend.” T-dog muttered. “He is today. This doxycycline might have just saved your life. You know what Merle was taking it for?” She asked. “The clap. Um, venereal disease. That's what Daryl said.” Glenn nodded “I'd say Merle Dixon's clap was the best thing to ever happen to you.” She lightly joked. “I'm really trying not to think about that.” “Lighten up T.” I smiled softly, patting his shoulder.
I left the room, walking towards the front door. “Where are you going?” Glenn stood up.
“To get some air, I’m only going to the porch. I promise I’m not going far.” I smiled. He reluctantly sat back down. Taking a seat on the top step, I look out over the fields, closing my eyes, taking in the night air. Hearing gravel against wheels, I open my eyes and look up, seeing headlights making their way to the house. 
I run inside and poked my head into the room Rick and Lori was in.
“-Rick, Lori, you may want to step out.” The man I assume to be Hershel finishes. 
“I’m sorry for interrupting but they’re back.” “You stay here with him.” Hershel told Patricia.
I followed Rick and Hershel outside.
 Rick and Shane shared a hug.
 “Carl?” Shane asked “There's still a chance.” Rick responded. “Otis?” Hershel asked. “No.” Shane shook his head. “We say nothing to Patricia. Not till after. I need her.” We all nodded.
Hershel rushed inside with the bags of medical supplies. 
I looked over to my brother and hugged him, I left Shane and Rick to talk. 
Finding Lori, I sat with her and grabbed her hand, running my thumb across the back of it. “He will pull through…” I nodded.
Maggie, Glenn and T-dog has joined the living room, now waiting room. After 15 minutes Rick returns with Shane.
Waiting another 15 minutes he stood up.
“Is there anywhere I can clean up?” Shane asked. “Ill take you.” Maggie stood up, Shane following.
After an hour or so the door opened. “He seems to have stabilised.” Hershel emerged. “Oh god.” Rick breathed. “I don't have words.” Lori said huddling close to her husband. “I don't either. Wish I did. How do I tell Patricia about Otis?” “You go to Carl. I'll go with Hershel.” Rick told Lori.
Hershel and Rick left, leaving, Lori, myself and the others.
Lori looked over to me.
“Go, see your boy.” I smiled.
Glenn and T-dog were celebrating.
I smiled as they laughed, even joining them before leaving the room.

My head turned and I seen Patricia sitting at the table, where she not long ago treated T-dog.
 I could hear the muffled voices of Hershel and Rick, then the gut wrenching sound of desperate sobs throughout the house. 
My heart breaking for the woman, the woman whose husband won’t ever return.


Series Masterlist Next Part

[jungshookz]

baby, you can drive my car |(mechanic!yoongi)

→ pairing: min yoongi x reader 

→ genre: mechanic!au, spoiltbrat!y/n (++ inexperienced y/n as hiGHLy requested hehe), 6 greasy bois, a taste of richboy!jin, a vintage mercedes benz named beeper, usual dose of crackheadiness, touch of angst, sprinkle of fluff, and bts (big time smut) ((i love recycling this joke don’t come for me)) (((thigh-riding)))

→ trigger warning: there is a brief mention of blood so tread lightly if you feel queaSy about that! 

→ wordcount: 24.6k magic in the air 

→ summary: welcome to min mechanics - what can i do for you today, doll?

→ note: ooh BOY this took me a while! i’m sorry it took me so long to publish this but i hope this bad boy (i’m talking about the fic itself anD mechanic!yoongi) makes up for it! mechanic!yoongi has been in the works for a while... thank you to every single one of you who contributed each of your own lil ideas and helped to create the chArming tattoo-sleeve man we all fuLLY fell in love with. seriously y’all i could not have done this without you!! i ain’t gon lie i was going to post this on the day of the comeback but i think i needed a day to just.,.,, SCREAM and listen to the album.,.,,.  (and also i was still editing it yikes) ((and also what do u guys think of the new albUM hELLO)) so here it is twO days after the comeback!!!!!!! i hope i gave you sufficient time to recover from the new album but if not oH well what can ya do!!! also i’m really friCkin nervous for some reason but nonetheless enjoy the ride! ( 灬♥ 3 ♥灬)

pst if u wanna talk to y/n or yoongi u know what to do ;-)

(gif isn’t mine!)

(((and the read more function iS there but most of the time it doesn’t work on mobile :// i am sorry don’t attack me by sending passive-aggressive anon messages)))

you know what

you could totally get used to this being an adult thing

you finally get to live in your own place

you finally get to eat whatever the heck you wanna eat

and most importantly

you finally get a car

yes, you’ll admit, you’re a little behind with the whole car thing

most of your friends already got their licenses befoRe becoming adults but so what if you were a little slow!!! you were just living life as a teenager!!!! there was no rush

let’s not beat around the bush here

you are: a spoilt brat

like unbelievably so

when you were younger all you’d have to do is point at something and your parents would immediately be like ….aight

now that you’re older it’s kinda the same except they’ve just given you a bunch of credit cards so now you don’t have to ask anyone you can just go out and get it yourself

but this car

this sweet sweet car that belongs to you

(to be moRe specific it’s a 1962 mercedes benz baby blue convertible that you’ve affectionately named beeper)

((you knoW that shit be fancy when it’s from the dang 60s))

this is the first BIG purchase you’ve made and you’re feeling pretty proud of yourself anD you’re feeling extra adult-y  

anyways you’re heading back to your penthouse now because it’s been a busy day!!

you had class in the morning and then you went and got your nails done to reward yourself for going to class (a manicure anD a pedicure because why would you not do your toes if you’re doing your fingers that just wouldn’t be fair to your toes) and then you went and got a venti coffee frappucino from starbucks

you reach over and adjust the front mirror a bit and take a second to admire your brand new YSL heart-shaped sunglasses (they’re SO cute n u have them in three different colours)

you’re already thinking about what you want for dinner

maybe you can order some sushi or something

you could go for a dynamite roll or something

maybe some gyoza dumplings too

oOh you should also get some seaweed salad because that-

prrt prruT prrt prRRrRRRRRrr

oh my god

no way

“oh my god, no way.” your heart drops to your stomach when beeper starts sputtering and coughing and slowing d o w n

oh god

oh god oh god oh god

okay

it’s fine

it’s fine don’t worry about it

thankfully beeper stopped riGht as the light turned red so you have some time to try and get him up and running again

okay

what can you do

what does this button do

click

oH okay those are the windshield wipers and you don’t need those

you twist a knob and curse to yourself when the radio turns on

ok what about thiS knob

“chRist-“ cold air starts blasting riGht into your face and you turn the knob back down

you step down on the gas pedal and nothing happens

what do you do whAT do you DO

you probably have like 20 seconds left before the light turns green and you have to get going

ooooOOOoOh you don’t want the people behind you to honk at you

that’s going to stress you out

you don’t want to be honked at!!!!!!!!!

usually when something bad happens you just.,. throw some money on it and it goes away

in this case you can technically throw money at it

let’s rephrase this

usually when something bad happens you just throw some money at a person and it goes away because they take care of the problem foR you

but the difference here is that you are all alone

in this big city

and your parents are miles away

and no one is here to help you

ooh!!!! ooh!!!!!! google a car repair shop!!!! goOGLE IT

you reach into your purse and pull your phone out quickly

“car repair shops near me…” you mutter to yourself as you type into the google search bar

you jump in surprise when the car behind you honks at you and you give them a sheepish smile and a shrug

“c’mon, c’mon.,.,,” you smack the steering wheel in frustration but quickly rub over the wheel apologetically  

beeper coughs before jerking and you feel a wave of relief wash over you when it starts moving again

okay

according to google maps the nearest repair shop is a minute drive away

okay okay okay

should be doable

it appears that the gods are somewhat on your side today because beeper breaks down officially right as you drive up to the front of the repair shop

luckily no one was on the sidewalk when you nyOomed up because half of your car is on the sidewalk and the other half is on the street and you’re not looking to run anyone over today

“stupid car.” you mutter as you slam the door shut “…sorry buddy.” you wince apologetically and pat the hood because you certainly wouldn’t want to be spoken to like that if you were a car

you look up at the rusting sign hanging above the large garage

‘min mechanics’

“min mechanics.” you stand in front of the large open garage and inspect the inside

is this place good enough for beeper

it seems like it’s doing pretty well

there are at least eight cars all parked on either sides of the place

in the very back in the left corner there’s an office kinda thing  

there’s a sign hanging on top of the door that says ‘front desk’

okay so that seems like a logical place to go to

you’re a little wary just leaving your car out here with nobody to watch it but it’s not like you have a choice

you walk in further and adjust your purse strap on your shoulder

what heCk

there’s like nobody here

there better be somebody here otherwise you’re going to get your dad to sue

just kidding

but not really

“uh, hellOOooOOo??” your boots clack against the concrete as you walk deeper into the garage

you push your sunglasses up onto the top of your head before placing a hand on your hip

“is anybody here??? someone needs to fix my car, please!!!” you approach the truck that’s just sitting in the middle of the garage and that’s when you notice a pair of legs under the truck

oh my god

someone’s been CRUSHED By a TRUCK

oh HELL no you are getting out of here you’re going to pretend like you weren’t even here in the first place

“sorry, gimme a sec!” the legs twitch and you let out a breath of relief

whoever this person is rolls out from under the truck smoothly and gets up onto their feet

oh

hello

he wipes his cheek with the back of his hand and gets grease smudged over his cheekbone with a scowl before wiping his grubby hands on his rag

soft icy-blue hair  

almost cat-like eyes

sharp jawline

very pretty hands

he tosses the dirty rag over his shoulder and you definitely don’t miss the way his bicep flexes

you glance down at the name embroidered in yellow thread into the chest pocket of his navy blue jumpsuit

𝓎𝑜𝑜𝓃𝑔𝒾

cute name for a cuter boy

he looks up at you and falters a bit

obviously he’s a liTTle taken aback because what’s a girl like you doing at a place like this??

you don’t miss the way his eyes scan over your figure

a cream coloured blouse tucked into a pair of skinny blue jeans

a pair of chunky leather boots that look like they cost more than his entire life

the little gucci purse

and of course

the heart shaped sunglasses

hm

“what can i help you with, doll?” he offers you a smirk and a tilt of the head and suddenly you think you’ve forgotten how to breathe

you don’t think that pet name should affect you as much as it does

holy shiT this is one pretty boy

he pushes his sleeves up and that’S when you notice that one of his arms is covered with tattoos

holy moly

“i… car’s broken. my car. my car’s broken.” you stumble over your words

“you… car’s broken, huh?” he teases before glancing over your shoulder “is that it outside?”

you nod quickly and look back at your car

aw

poor beeper

you didn’t even get to drive him that much and he already diED on you

you should’ve asked for a range rover instead

once again it’s from the 60s

you probably should’ve stopped right then and there

but it’s so cute!!!!!!!

“is that a 1962 mercerdes benz??” ‘yoongi’ gasps and moves past you towards beeper “holy shiT i’ve only seen those in pictures”

“it’s pretty cool, i guess.” you shrug casually and watch as he continues to marvel over your car “but yeah, do you think you can fix him?”

“him?”

“…his name is beeper.” you admit shyly and yoongi laughs lightly and nods understandably

“cute. and yes, i’ll take care of beeper for you, don’t worry. give me some time to poke around and see what the issue is.” he pats beeper’s hood before gesturing over to the back of the garage “you can chill out in the office if you want, or there’s a starbucks down the street. it’s pretty muggy in the garage and i wouldn’t want you to scuff up your gucci purse.”

his eyes flicker towards the little black bag nestled against your side

you clear your throat and tuck it behind you bashfully

“i’m yoongi, by the way.” he sticks his hand out and you look down at it

you can see some greASy residue from the truck that he was fixing earlier but you tell yourself to man up and you reach over and take his hand

oh my god his hand is s t i c k y

ew!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

“i’m y/n. thank you for helping me out.”

“of course, i’m happy to help.” yoongi offers you a boyish smile and you decide right then and there that you don’t mind his sticky hands at all

the bell tinkles lightly as you push the frosted glass door open and step into the air-conditioned office

hey the office is a lot bigger than you thought it’d be

and definitely a lot nicer than you thought it’d be (no offence)

there’s a front counter and an empty wheely chair behind it

oH and there’s another door that leads into a more ~private~ office but it’s closed so you can’t sneak a peek inside

on the counter there’s a little bell and next to it is a hEfty jar of lollipops

behind the counter is a cork board with a bunch of car keys hanging from pushpins all lined up in a neat row

a couple sticky notes pinned up

four plastic chairs sitting on the side (you’re assuming this is the waiting area)

in the corner there’s a little table with a stack of magazines

and in the other corner there’s a water dispenser

the ceiling fan whirs above you as you head over to the front desk

these lollipops look tempting

you wonder if they’re complimentary or if yoongi is just a sugar addict

you reach into the jar and grab one quickly and drop it into your purse

the chair squeaks underneath you as you take a seat and you shift to get comfortable

you reach up to push your sunglasses up because they start to slide down a little

a breath slips past your lips

you wonder how long yoongi’s going to take

and then you wonder if you’re going to have to get a new car

maybe you should go car shopping after this

hot tip: avoid cars from the 60s

“well i figured out what was wrong with your car” you jump when the door opens abruptly

you stand up from the seat and smooth your blouse down a little “what’s wrong with it?? what do i need to get fixed and how much is it all going to cost??”

“uh, not that much consider what was wrong was that the gas tank was empty.”

…

oh

my

god

you’re a moron

you are an idiot

a F O O L

you clear your throat and feel your cheeks starting to burn a lil

this is uh

this is kinda embarrassing

“are you… sure? that’s it? the gas tank was empty? there’s really nothing else wrong with him?”

“mhm.” yoongi nods and makes his way over behind the front desk “i did a full body check on beeper and everything else is working just fine! he just needed a tank of juice, so i filled up for you. he’s good to go!” he unwraps a lollipop and sticks it into his mouth  

“oh, okay. um-“ you unzip your purse and rifle through it for your wallet “how much do i owe you?”

“nothing”

“noth- gas is free???? holy shit. i did not know that.” you scoff in surprise and put your wallet away

yoongi’s brows furrow and he gives you a smile “no, gas isn’t free, doll. i’m giving you a get outta jail free card, so next time beeper ‘breaks down’ you’ll know he’s just out of gas.”

“oh… oH no no you don’t have to do that here lemme give you-“

“hey, seriously - it’s fine.” yoongi hands you your keys back before spinning you around and leading you out the door with a hand placed on the small of your back  

“but-“

“but nothing! i don’t wanna hear it.” he teases as he opens the door up for you and nudges you inside

he closes the door gently and bends down a little “it was nice doin’ business with you. take care of yourself now.”

“thanks for making me look like a fool in front of a cute boy today, beeper.” you sigh as you step out of the car and close the door

beep beep !

you drop your keys into your purse after locking beeper up and you make your way over to the elevator that goes up to the penthouse

as you wait for the elevator to take you up to your floor you shove your hand into your purse for your house keys and you end up pulling out

a yellow lollipop

you stare at it for a second and blink at it owlishly

no

y/n

he’s a mechanic

your dad’s a businessman!!!!!!!!!  

you need to go after a CEO boy not a CAR boy

you’re sure there are plenty of nice CEO boys in the city

you unwrap the lollipop and stick it into your mouth

hm

mango!

the elevator dings and the doors slide open

you step out into the hallway and twirl your keys around your finger

yeah

it’d be good for you

just forget about the silly car boy

three days later

ok so listen

uh

you know how you said it’d be good to just forget about the silly car boy

ya

that did not happen

you don’t usually do stupid things

but this?

this thing that you have just done??

now THIS was stupid

you might’ve maybe kinda sorta possibly clobbered one of your side mirrors with a baseball bat so that it’d break off because a teeny weeny (huge huGe) part of you wanted to see yoongi again

after the whole stare off with the lollipop in the elevator you just had this itching feeling all over your body

there’s just something about him and you can’t quite put your finger on it

maybe it’s because he’s so..,,.,,., cool? like that’s the only word you have to describe him right now lol

he’s just.,.,,.., he’s so different compared to all the other boys you’ve ever been interested in

god

he’s such a man that’s what he is

the bad boy of your wildest dreams

anyways uh

“….oh boy.” so now you have a baseball bat in one hand and a side mirror in the other

if someone were to walk into the garage right now it’d look like you just damaged someone else’s car

and it’s not like you can say ‘oh, don’t worry! it’s just my car, trust me!!!’ and wave the baseball at them because then they’d be like wtf why did u just fuck up ur own car

well

now it’s too late

you gosh darn wrecked your vintage car all because you want to see a cute mechanic

you couldn’t have just walked in there like a normal person to say hi!!!!!

you could’ve gone in there with an envelope of money and been like oh i just felt bad about not paying so i hAd to come and pay you back!!!

you did this on purpose because you wanted! to! see! yoongi! again!

and unsurprisingly

you always get what you want

“how did this happen again?”

“…i backed up into my garage all weird…?” you’re not being very convincing right now in case that wasn’t already super obvious  

“…huh.”

see

yoongi knows his cars

he’s been working with them for a long time (fun fact he picked up his first screwdriver and helped his dad in the shop when he was just three years old!!!!)

and this doesn’t look like you backed your car into the garage and accidentally knocked it into the side of a wall

it looks like it’s been battered

and he can’t help but think that you were the one who fucked your car up

because there’s a huge dent on the top part of it (he’s assuming this was your first hit) and a loT of mini dents around it (which was a result of you panicking when it didn’t fall off the first time so you continued whacking it everywhere) anD the way the mirror cracked suggests that something was hitting it straIGHt on

so you must’ve been parking your car really weirdly if you actually knocked it off while parking

this looks like it was done purposely

yoongi looks up from the mirror at you

“so… can you fix it?”

a little smirk twitches at the corner of his mouth

alright

he’ll bite

“i mean, it would’ve been easier if the mirror wasn’t completely destroyed-” yoongi holds it up and you wince a little at the sight of the wires dangling from where you riPPed it off “i’m going to have to order a new mirror - it’s probably going to cost a pretty penny considering this is a vintage car, but i’ll be sure to find the best deal for you.”

“you’re welcome to leave beeper here oR you can always just bring him back when the mirror comes in because everything else is working perfectly fine.”

“i’ll leave him here-!” you respond immediately “…if that’s okay with you, of course.”

“that’s perfectly fine with me.” he holds his hand out and your eyes flicker down to it

even his hand is pretty

you’re not..,. sure why he’s holding his hand out

is he trying to shake your hand??

you slowly raise your hand before gently placing it over his

yoongi blinks twice and looks back up at you

you look back at him

“…i need your keys.”

OH

oH MY GOD

oh my god

“i knew that!” you rIP your hand away before shoving it into your purse

your face is honestly probably on fire right now

love that for you

you drop your keys into yoongi’s palm with a jingle and yoongi smirks because now it seems like you’re avoiding eye contact with him

he smirks lightly as he tucks your keys into his back pocket

“at least buy me dinner first before touching me like that, doll.”

ok

you need to leave NOW

this is MORTIFyiNG

you are in the midst of an internal conflict

see, the thing is

you’re not quite sure if you’re crossing the line from charming to downright creepy

let’s unpack this

charming = treating someone to lunch

creepy = treating someone to lunch when you’ve only spoken to him for a total of like 3 minutes

charming = bringing lunch to someone at their workplace

creepy = bringing lunch to someone at their workplace and virtually giving them no choice but to sit down and eat lunch with you becausE you bROUGHt lunch to their woRKPLACE

charming = y/n y/l/n when she like someone

creepy = y/n y/l/n when she really really likes someone

charm-

oh!!!! a pair of legs under a truck!!!!!!!

you pick up the pace and head straIght for truck

“hey!” you knock twice against the side to get yoongi’s attention and you can’t help but bounce up on your toes a little in excitement

you look into the takeout bag to make sure nothing is leaking “i know the car isn’t ready yet but i just wanted to stop by and thank you for-“

“well hey to you too” you step back when you look down to see someone who definitely isn’t yoongi but is also juSt as pretty as yoongi

he takes his cap off and pushes his hair back before putting his hat on backwards

“you aren’t yoongi” you squeak out and wrinkle your nose “i’m so sorry, i thought you were someone else.”

“my name is jungkook bUT i’d be happy to be yoongi if you’d like” he gets up off the ground and wipes his hands on the back of his jumpsuit

he flashes you a charming smile and you feel a little overwheLmed

“get bACk to work you moron” you and the yoongi impoSter both look to the left and you smile excitedly when you see who it is “hello - again.” he teases “your car isn’t ready yet, if that’s what you’re here for.”

“i know, i’m not here for the car.” you blurt out and yoongi’s eyes widen slightly in surprise

he pokes his tongue into his cheek and raises a brow before smirking at you

“huh. i see. so what are you here for then?”

“i-“

“yoongi, aren’t you going to introduce us to the pretty lady?” you turn to look over your shoulder and you’re suddenly overwhelmed because there are one two three four five boys standing behind you like a floCK of pigeons

yoongi lets out a sigh

sometimes he wished he worked alone

you can’t help but think that this mechanics shop is just a cover up for some kind of cult

because uh

every single one of these boys are beautiful

taehyung is in charge of paint jobs and customisations

namjoon is in charge of office-related things like contracts and paperwork and finances and things along that line

hoseok takes care of washing cars

and jimin is an excellent polisher (he promised you you’d get beeper back nice and sparKly even though all you have to do is replace the side mirror)

and jungkook..,.,. kind of bounces everywhere (apparently he’s just working here for the summer so he doesn’t have a designated responsibility)

last you saw him he was under a truck and now he’s helping jimin with the buffing

“now that you know everybody- sorry about that, by the way - what brings you here today?”

“i brought you some lunch as a thank you for… giving me free gas.”  

huh

“oh! thank you so much, that’s very sweet of you.” yoongi smiles and rubs his hands together “i haven’t eaten lunch yet so you came at the riGht time!”

niCE

okay this is good

yoongi can’t help but wonder how much you spent on lunch because even the takeout bag itself looks hella fancy

le petit bistro

obviously it’s some french place

and most of the time french places are hella fancy

he suggested you guys eat in his office so that you’d have a liL more privacy (he knows for a fact that the moment you guys pull food out the others are going to swarm around you and ask to donate some bites to them) and also you probably don’t want to smell petrol while eating lunch lol

you went to go wash your hands so yoongi took the opportunity to sneak a glance at the receipt to confirm his suspicions

and needless to say

he is SHOOK

jesus christ

$45???? for a SANDWICH??? one single sandwich????

the water was $8????

what the hell

.,.,,.negative sides of capitalism

well now he can’t help but wonder how loaded you actually are

he’s not going to lie

it’s slightly intimidating to be around someone practically oozing with money

“-i wasn’t sure what kind of sandwiches you liked so i got a croque monsieur for you, i hope that’s okay!” yoongi drops the receipt back into the bag quickly and shifts in his seat as you step into the office

“oh no, that’s totally fine! i love..,. croc monsters.” he clears his throat “what did you get for yourself?”

“a pan bagnat.” you plop down next to him before reaching into the bag

a pain what now

a pain bandaid?????

what the hell kind of words are leaving your mouth right now lol

“remind me what a… ᶜʳᵒᶜ ᵐᵒⁿˢᵗᵉʳ is again?” yoongi takes the box from you and pops it open

it kinda just looks like a plain ol sandwich

.,.,is that a gold leaf on top of it

“it’s just a fanCy ham and cheese sandwich….also did u just call it a croc monster”

yoongi pauses

“….did u just call it a croc monster?” yoongi bites into the sandwich and-

oH mY GOD

if u weren’t in the room with him he’s positive he would’ve busted a nut

holy SHIT that is a good ham and cheese sandwich

his ham and cheese sandwiches neVer taste this good!!!!!!!

“you want a bite of mine?”

“what’s yours?”

“a pan bagnat.” yoongi contemplates this for a second before shrugging and leaning in for a bite but you quiCkly pull back

he raises a brow

did u change ur mind

“say it.”

say wat

“…thank you?”

“no, no. say it.”

“say what?”

“the name of the sandwich.” you smirk

oh NO

you are a sICk, twiSted individual

the thing is

he knows it’s pan bagnat

but he can’t saY pan bagnat

but he KNOWS it’s pAN BAGNAT OKAY

he knows that you pronounced it pahn ban-yay

so he too will pronounce it pahn ban-yay

he clears his throat

“…pain bandaid.”

o dear god

“okay, so you got that one because jungkook dared you to???” you giggle and trace your fingers over the oFFending tattoo

“yep. he kept saying i didn’t have the balls to do it and the next thing i know i’m sitting in a tattoo parlour getting an angry cookie tattooed on the inside of my bicep.” he snorts and jabs it “luckily i have a whole sLeeve of tattoos to distract from shooky.”

“you nAMed him??”

“jungkook did!!!”

you trail your eyes over the rest of his tattoos

your favourite so far (and it’s the biggest one) is of a cherry blossom tree

the way the branches and twigs wrap around his arms is just so beautiful and the baby pink of the cherry blossoms are just so!!! cute!!!!!!!

“how about your hair, then? unless you were born with a head of shockingly icy-blue hair.”

“well, i got drunk on my birthday. and then i woke up with bleached hair, which was traumatising, as you can probably imagine. i wasn’t a fan of completely whiTE hair so i just bought some dye from the drug store and it came out to be this soft blue-grey kinda colour.” yoongi crosses his eyes as he pinches a couple strands of hair in between his fingers

“i don’t know if i could ever do that to my hair.” you murmur and look at your own strands of hair “my scalp would probably die on me.”

“my scalp is already fuLLy dead, so i don’t really care anymore.”

“does that mean you’ll let me dye your hair neon green?”

“…we’ll have to talk about that one first.”

yoongi nearly shits himself when he realises he’s gone twO hours over his lunch break

omg

he has so much to do today he has to go back to work

even though he’s the boss and can take as many lunch breaks as he wants it doesn’t maTTer

“you got any plans for the rest of the day?” yoongi crumples his napkin up and shOots it into the bin

“not really!” you wipe your mouth and put the soiled napkin into the takeout box before putting thAt back into the takeout bag

“here, i’ll throw that out in the back for you.” yoongi picks the bag up and tucks his own box into it as well

“thank you- i dO have some work do to later but hey, you wouldn’t mind if i just hung out here, right?”

yoongi pauses on his way to the door and turns back to look at you

“you wanna hang out… here?” yoongi furrows his brows in confusion “like here-here?”

you shrug

“it just gets preTTy boring at the apartment when i’m all alone”

“well, uh, i guess i don’t see any problem with you hanging out here. i’m just going to be out there with the others, so let me know if you need anything”

??????

yoongi doesn’t usually have to play the role of a hOSt when his customers are around

“cool!!! i’ll trY not to burn anything down”

yoongi smiles to himself and shakes his head before leaving the office

hm

you are a very peculiar girl

and so it goes

you find yourself zipping straiGht to min mechanics as soon as you’re done with classes for the day (you don’t go everyday just because you feel like that’s kinDa creepy and very veRy clingy so you limit yourself to like three or four days a week)

luckily yoongi’s shop is only a 20 minute uber ride away (you were vEry tempted to buy a new car to take over beeper’s place for the time-being but you figured it’d be best to spend your money on things like… groceries??) so he’s not toO out of the way which is good!!!!!!

although you have a feeling that even if yoongi was 3 hours away you’d stiLL make the trip to see him

and although it seems like you’re just there to check up on beeper because yOu miSs hIm it’s fairly obvious you have a lil thing for yoongi

“hey, um, just outta curiosity - how old is yoongi?” you adjust on the stool and avoid jungkook’s gaze when he turns back to look at you

he glances over at yoongi “he just turned 26! he’s an old man” jungkook snorts and goes back to wiping down the windows

26

that’s.,.,.,. uh

that’s kinda hot

you cross your legs and prop an elbow up on your knee before propping your chin up on your palm and you let out a dreamy sigh

everyThing about yoongi is kinda hot

the way he rolls his sleeves up to expose his forearms when he’s about to get down and diRty gets your gears grinding

or when his tongue swipes over his bottom lip after he’s taken a swig of water

or how deep n rasPy is voice gets sometimes

not to mention his tattoo sleeve

you haven’t gotten a good look at it yet but you’re not complaining because it makes him fall into the bad boy category and you are a HOE for that

“i’m 22, by the way. much, much younger than yoongi.” jungkook points out and turns around to lean against the truck

“mm, that’s cool, kook.” you smile although your eyes are glued on a certain someone else  

jungkook snorts and rolls his eyes

maybe he should get a tattoo sleeve

“you know she’s staring at you again”

yoongi has to bite back a smile to keep himself from looking like a smitten schOOlgirl  “is she?” he asks casually and flips to the next page of the catalogue

he glances over his shoulder and sure enough you’re staring right at him

of course the moment you get caught you quickly look up and pretend like the ceiling fans whirring above are the most interesting things you’ve ever seen in your entire life

“she’s cute”

“i know” yoongi looks up and narrows his eyes at hoseok who is… stiLL staring at you

yoongi takes a step to the side so that he’s blocking hoseok’s line of sight “don’t you have a tire to change or something?”

hoseok immediately raises his hands in defense

“all i’m impLYing is that if you don’t do something soon i might have to hop on that and take her for a ride-” hoseok yelps when yoongi rolls up the catalogue and suddenly starts smacking him with it

“get baCK to work before i FIRE you”

“whatcha eating?” you glance up from your magazine when you become acutely aware that you are no longer alone due to the fact that there are three shadows blocking you from the sun

ah yes

the three amigos

jimin taehyung and lil ol jungkook

you know exactly what they want

you swallow your bite and use your chopsticks to gesture to the takeout box of sushi (it’s a dynamite roll (your fave!!!!) from this amazing sushi place called nori) sitting on the little table next to you “sushi.” you flip to the next page of the magazine

“what…. kind of sushi?”  

“dynamite roll.”

you hear them murmuring to each other and the only thing you manage to make out is a ‘u think she’ll let us try’

yeah

it is always a mistake to bring food here but for some reason you don’t listen to yourself and you always bring food here

and u know what maybe this is just because ur kind of selfish (especially when it comes to the dynamite rolls from nori) but u don’t really want to give them a bite but at the same time you know for sure they’re not going to leave you alone til you let them try

“cool, cool.” taehyung clears his throat

you give them all an unimpressed look before snorting in amusement and picking up the takeout box then holding it up for them

“one piece each.”

and the gates of hell swing open

he immEdiately opens his mouth and sucks it in like a vacuum cleaner

and then you offer a piece to jimin

and then you offer a piece to jungkook

and once they’re all satisfied they finally leave you alone

now you’re down 3 pieces of sushi but it’s finE

you don’t think of yourself as a person who puts effort into things unless you’re parTicularly passionate about something

and you just so happen to be vERY passionate about (1) min yoongi so you surprise yourself when you realise that instead of spending thursday evening watching netflix, you spend three hours doing research on the different parts of a car juSt so you can go into min mechanics and blow yoongi’s MIND

u want to impress him ok it’s not a big deal!!!!!!!!

anyways

you have a couple bullet points that you scribbled down on your palm jUSt in case

you are READY to impress the heck out of yoongi

“that radiator sure looks busted, huh?” you peek over yoongi’s shoulder and take a step back when he turns to look at you “you should probably check the coolant levels.”

yoongi furrows his brows in confusion

what is happening

it doesn’t make sense that you suddenly have a very vAst knowledge of cars considering the fact that you thought your car was broken when it was literally just out of gas

.,.,.,what is going on

“that is the radiator, you’re correct. and it is busted.” you smile proudly and give yourself a mental pat on the back and it is pretty busted. “there’s a blown fuse and a couple of wires are corroded.”

“have you checked the lower radiator tank?”

“uh- yes, i checked that. i don’t really need to check the lower tank if i’m looking at an electrical problem though.”

uh oh

we’re starting to go downhill

quICK say something else

you unfurl your fingers and glance down at the messy scribbles on your palm (the ink is starting to bleed because ur starting to get nErvous and your palms always get clammy)

“how about the coolant?”

“don’t need to check coolant levels either.” yoongi hums and reaches over to untwist the tank cap “and you already mentioned the coolant levels earlier-“

and then it hits him

it finally hits him

his fingers freeze on the cap momentarily

oh

bless your heart

he pressed his lips together to keep himself from smiling too widely “-but if it makes you feel any better i’ll check the coolant levels again?”

“no, no! if you don’t need to check it, then you don’t have to.” you clear your throat “the… the fan clutch is… you should check that too. the fan clutch is… it’s a vital part of the radiator.”

“say, i have a question for you.” yoongi spins around and leans back against the car

“mhm?”

“what exactly does the radiator do, y/n?” he raises a brow before crossing his arms

you know this

oh my god you KNOW this

you literally read a 12 page document talking specifically about radiators HOW the hell are you BLANKING right now

okay fine

just play it cool

if you act like you know what you’re talking about it’ll be more convincing

“it…” you kiss your teeth before glancing down at the radIatoR “it… radiates… um, it radiates energy so that the car is able to… move.” you explain as conFidently as you possibly

“and what’s a fan clutch?”

“oh! you know, it’s the part that just…” you shake your fist in the air “just… clutches the fan, y’know? keeps it in place.”

“huh. that’s right.” yoongi cocks his head

wait what

holy shit

you’re a genius

you are a GENIUS  

“i am???”

“no.” he deadpans and smirks when you scowl playfully “you’re cute, though.”

.,,.,.frick

“good morning, namjoon.” yoongi hums as he steps into the office with a biG bag of lollipops

“morning…?” this is vEry unfamiliar territory because the last time yoongi said good morning to namjoon it was on his birthday

well

it’s best not to question it

he should just enjOy sociable yoongi “you seem extra chipper this morning!” namjoon points out

“do i?” yoongi pulls the lid off the glass jar and sets it aside

click clack click clack

the lollipops hit the side of the jar as yoongi fills it aLL the way up

he turns to toss the bag away into the bin

namjoon pulls a lollipop out of the jar before furrowing his brows

he twists the treat in between his fingers and takes note of the little cartoon strawberries on the wrapper “i thought you were a raspberry man?”

“i am” yoongi plucks the lollipop from namjoon’s fingers and plunks it into the jar before covering it up

“but all of these are strawberry flavoured.”

“yes, and?”

namjoon raises his hands in defence “nothing! just saying.”

how very odd

yoongi despises strawberry

“hi namjoon!” the little bell tinkers as you step into the office

“y/n, hey! how was your day? yoongi’s in the middle of a call but he’ll be out soon.”

“it was okay! i got my essay back and i did pretty well- oOH strawberry” you gasp and iMMediately shoVe your hand into the jar

there it is

the final piece of the puzzle

it all makes sense now

“huh.” namjoon leans back against his chair and crosses his arms as he watches you unwrap the lollipop excitedly

“whaht?” you ask aroUnd the lollipop and namjoon shakes his head

“oh, nothing.”

interesting

vEry interesting

yoongi despises strawberry but it seems like he doesn’t despise you

it is univERsally known that sundays are meant to be day-offs

you’re supposed to sleep in on sundays

you go out for bRUnch on sundays

you most certainly don’t wake up at 8am and spend twO hours getting ready and then take an uber down to the mechanics shop to see the cute boy who works there

normal people don’t dO THAT

“what are you doing here? it’s sunday…” even yoongi is confused as to why you’re here

hE doesn’t even want to be here

“i know, i just… y’know, i was bored, so-“

“you came all the way here because you were bored?” yoongi’s brows knit together and you feel your cheeks flush

you reach up to scratch the back of your neck before pursing your lips “…yes?” you look around and realise that no one else is in sight “where is everyone?”

“…it’s sunday.” yoongi teases and brings his attention back to the faulty hose in his hands

god

what is wrong with the hose today yoongi slaps it against his palm a couple of times

his brows furrow in frustration before he gives it a good tWisT-

SCHKKKKKKKKKK

oH Okay there it is

“there we go!” yoongi twists it back to turn it off “i think i might need to invest in a new hose because i just wasted like 10 minutes trying to turn it on“ he looks up at you

OH MY GOD

you’re gawkinG like a fish and all the blood drains from yoongi’s face when he realizes what just happened  

oh mygOD

he’s going to have to work for the rest of his life to pay for your dry cleaning

he’s going to have to sell his shop and that won’t even be enough to cover the cost of cleaning your gucci purse

“y/n… shit… i am sO sorry….” yoongi swallows thickly because you still haven’t responded  

you drop your purse on the floor and yoongi presses his lips together

t-the gucci is soaking wet

ᵗʰᵉ ᵍᵘᶜᶜᶦ ᶦˢ ˢᵒᵃᵏᶦⁿᵍ ʷᵉᵗ

hooOooOOOLY SHit he wants to die

he wants to die!!!!!!!!!!!

he wants to guZZLe a gallon of petrol and just DIE

you’re going to sue him

no

you’re going to get your dad to sue him which is even worse

he drops the hose to the floor with a clatter before turning to grab the rag sitting on the hood of the truck  

“i’ll get you another towel but you can use this to dry off for no- WHAT-“ not even a seCOND goes by and all of a sudden there’s water being dumpED right on top of him  

and to make matters worse

this is soapy water used to wash the car

he’s dripping with dirty soapy water from head to toe

“there. now we’re even!” you let out a sigh and set the bucket down before wiping your hands on the back of your leggings even though that does absolutely NOTHING

“…you have three seconds.”

you’re still wiping your hands on your leggings “three seconds to- oH MY GOD WAIT-“ you begin sprinting as soon as yoongi moves into action and the next thing you know he’s chasing you around the garage with the hose

you two are acting like chiLDREN

“yOONGI NO” you shriek when you feel cold water blast against you once again

your guys laughter bounces off the walls of the garage along with the occasional screEch from you

“get away from me you freAK-“ yoongi cackles when he gets a good blast of water right against your butt causing you to scream even louDer than you already were

you can feel him gaining on you because the pressure of the water is starting to get stronger and stronger

you let out a shriek before bursting into laughter when yoongi wraps his arm around you from behind and you immediately start squirming in his grip

you manage to turn around and the two of you start baTTling for the hose

“giVE it to mE-“ you squeeze your eyes shut because you’re sure getting blasted in the eyeball with water won’t be nice

“over my dead body!!!!!!” yoongi laughs and starts tickling your sides with his free hand

“min yooNGI it’s my turn to-“

“get your grUbby hands off the-“

of course

the floor is now slippery as hell (and yoongi’s water bill is going to be hIGH this month if you two keep going at it lol)

so of course

“woAH-!“

“oh SHIt-“

the nExt thing you know you’re staring up at

well

you’re staring right up at yoongi

“i-“ you have no idea why but your fingers are wrapped around his soaKing wet bicep and you quickly let go and place your hands on either side of you like a damn corpse “hi.”

the hose has been completely abandoned next to you guys and it’s still spurting out water

“hey.” he pants from the exertion of chasing you around the garage and his eyes flicker down to your lips veRy briefly you’re not sure it even happened

he’s settled riGht in between your legs and once you realise this your cheeks flame up

oh my god

dO something

“call it a truce?” you offer meekly and yoongi raises a brow before nodding once

“…i suppose so.” you yeLp in surprise when he suddenly shakes his hair out like a dog and practically assaults you with droplets of water

you scowl playfully and wipe at your cheek

yoongi grins down at you and gets off of you

he stands up and looks down at his sopping wet jumpsuit before offering you a hand “c’mon.” he jerks his head towards the office “let’s dry you up, doll.”

you wring the water out of your blouse and yelp quietly when you feel cold droplets of water splatter onto your bare foot

also

this YSL mascara was noT worth the money because you look like a raccoon right now

“i have an extra shirt somewhere… ah, here we are!”

you look at yoongi in the mirror of your compact as he emerges from the office with a-

oh good god

what is that

you clap your compact shut and tuck it back into your purse before spinning around and letting your eyes trail down to the….

can u even call that a shirt

“i refuse to put that thing on my body.” you can’t even bring yourself to reach out and take the raggedy denim button-up from yoongi because it just looks so.,.,.,.,.,. grOSS

“aw, c’mon! it’s cute! denim is super trendy.”

“why is it so dirty??”

“they’re just grease stains!! i swear!” yoongi brings the shirt up to his nose and takes a fAT whiff “anD i washed it!”

“well you can either wear this oR you can wear your sopping wet clothes.” yoongi points to the garBage bag containing all your soaking wet belongings and you let out a groan before reaching out and taking the shirt from him

“if it’ll make you feel better i have a pen here and i can just write gucci on the label!”

“ha-ha, very funny.,,., i accept louis vuitton as well”

“i’m going to see if i have any clothes for myself” yoongi disappears into the office again and you work quickly to rip your soPping wet clothes off as quickly as possible

“you know, i can always hook you up with some better quality shirts!” you start buttoning yourself up and you bring your arm up to your nose to give the sleeve a little sniff

it smells like his cologne >:)

you tug the shirt down a little bit and look behind you to make sure your ass isn’t hanging out and saying peekaboo

it’s big enough to the point where it covers everything appropriately and also it reaches mid-thigh

but if you bent down you’d definitely be giving everyone a show lol

“we can stick your logo on the back and everything-“

“sorry, what’d you say? i didn’t catch that.”

you turn around to face yoongi “i was saying that i- oH“

o-OH My GO D

R E D  A L E R T

your heart literally stops at the sight of a very, very shirtless yoongi

he shakes his hair out before running a hand through it with a sigh “luckily i had some spare clothes here otherwise i’d have to drive you home completely naked…”

you are bAREly paying attention to a word he is saying right now

this is it

min yoongi is one of the seven wonders of the world

he has a pair of grey sweatpants hanging low on his hips and not to be nsfW but he might,..,,. not be wearing any briefs right now.,..,

you glance back up at his face and clear your throat when you realise he’s staring right back at you with the teeniest of smirks

“what’s the matter, doll? cat got your tongue?”

the cat don’t but that diCK dO

“your carriage awaits, madam” yoongi bows and gestures towards his pick up truck

“why, thank you, kind sir.” you gladly take his hand and he helps you into the truck

the car ride consists of you and yoongi continuing to get to know each other a lil more

the conversation flows very smoothly and easily between the two of you and that makes u happy :-))))

you tell him about that one time you thought there was a robber in your house but it turned out to be a squirrel which is moRE confusing because how the hell did the squirrel make it up so high

yoongi tells you about that one time he was staying late at the shop and hE thought there was a robber in the garage but it was just a drunk jungkook tripping over a stack of tires

you ask him about his family and he asks you about yours

you tell him you love ur mom and dad a lot but you’re suPer glad to be living on your own because it gets overwhelming sometimes

yoongi says he has a good relationship with his family too (but they weren’t pleased when he came home for new years and they discovered his tATTOO SLEEVE and his BLEACHED HAIR)

he tells you about his lil dog named holly (who he misses so much!!!!!) and you tell him about your pet turtle walter who lives at home with your parents

you find out that his favourite pizza toppings are pepperonis and pineapples and you fULLY roast him for that disgusting combination

and then he finds out that your favourite pizza toppings are spinach leaves, fire-grilled chicken, and caramelised red onions and he’s like okay miss bouGIe do u realise how much more expensive my pizza would be if i asked for fire-grilled chicken  

he listens to hip-hop most of the time but he does have a soft spot for ariana grande and halsey

he bEgs you not to say anything to the boys

he’s not insecure about his masculinity or anything

he just doesn’t want them to bLAST break up w ur boyfriend i’m bored in the shop all day even tho it’s a B O P

“okay, turn into the roundabout here…” you point towards the penthouse buildings once yoongi drives past the gates (u live in a gaTed community u r so bougie!!!!!!!!!)  

“this building? the one with the… marBle fountain?”

“mhm, you got it.” you unbuckle your seatbelt and turn to smile at him “thank you for the ride and the shower.”

“anytime, doll.” yoongi plays along and his right eye drops in a wink

he chews on the inside of his cheek nervously

should he go for it

,.,..,

yeah he’s going to go for it

“hey, by the way-“ he stops you before you can hop out of the truth “the guys and i are hanging out this friday at this club we usually go to... don’t feel pressured to say yes or anything but if you wanna tag along that’d be totally-“

“yEs i would love to!” you blurt out and yoongi pauses and chuckles lightly

omg

yES you definiTEly want to

“okay, i’ll text you the details as soon as i figure out what’s happening.”

“sounds good!!” you shut the door and yoongi rolls the window down

“i’ll see you later then?”

“mhm! by the way - i’m keeping the shirt.”

yoongi snorts and rolls his eyes playfully as he watches you make your way to the entrance

he bites back a smile and leans back against the seat before letting out a breath and turning the truck back on

you really are something

friday can’t come soon enough

oh boy

your bedroom looks like it’s just been hit by a tornado

because it is a mEss

“i have nothing to wear!” you whine to nobody in particular as you stand in the middle of your walk-in closet and look around at the racks and racKs of clothing surrounding you

first you tried a tank top tucked into a pair of jeans and a sensible cardigan but then you remembered riGHt i’m going to a club i’m not going to the LIBRARY

and then you tried this brand new dress from chanel but you decided it was too ~avant-garde~ (u don’t really know what that means but that’s how the lady described it to you when she was selling it to you) for the club

and theN you tried a jumpsuit kinda thing but you’re not going to want to completely strIP down and sit on the toilet butt-ass naked when you have to pee

but u know what

after 2 hours (yes, TWO hours) of going through your closet you think you’ve finally pieced a sensible outfit together

it’s a baby blue slip dress (you bought it to match with beeper and u will shamelessly admit that) and you pair it with these adorable strappy platform sandals and of course a brand new gucci clutch  

hm

you look so cuTe you love this outfit

you kinda look like an early 2000s bratz doll and you’re,.,.,. ObseSsed with that

also

if someone compliments you on your outfit you’re definitely going to hit them with a “oh, this old thing? i just threW it on!”

no one will ever know it took you 120 minutes to pick (1) blue dress

you’re taking this secret to the GRAVE

yoongi offered to pick you up but you told him you’d be fine getting there by yourself

plus you really wanted to go in fashionably late (not tOO late of course) and just knock the socks off of everyone

you fully accept that you are a tiny bit of an attention whore

>:-)

“i think i should’ve picked her up.” yoongi mutters as he takes the last sip of his beer

it’s 9:30 and you’re stiLL not here

he’s checked his phone literally ten times in twenty minutes to make sure that he hasn’t missed any texts or calls or

“i think you’re overthinking this. she’ll get here! maybe there’s traffic.” jimin pats yoongi’s shoulder before returning to his conversation with hoseok

“and even if she doesn’T come you can still have fun with us!” jungkook points out and yoongi frowns “what??? we’re just as fun as y/n!!”

“we might be just as fun as y/n but yoongi doesn’t wanna make out with you like he does y/n-“

“soRRY you guys my uber dropped me off like three blocks away from here for some reason and i didn’t realise how hard it was walking in platform sandals” yoongi jumps in surprise when you suddenly poP out of nowhere

“this is why i should’ve picked you u-“ yoongi turns his head and finally gets a good look at you

shit you look good

he’s.,,.,. never seen your bAre legs before but he most definitely wants to bury his face in between them!!!!!!

oops

“are you two done checking each other out yet?” taehyung raises a brow and you and yoongi break gazes immediately

yoongi looks up at the little lightbulb hanging from the ceiling and you look towards the bowl of pretzels sitting on the table

namjoon smacks tae’s arm scoldingly

quick change the subject

“have you guys just been sitting here this whole time?” you take a seat next to yoongi and you’re hAPPy to report that he doesn’t move when the side of your thigh presses up against him

you’re used to seeing yoongi in a jumpsuit (which is hot) or like a plain white tee tucked into a pair of jeans (which is aLso hot) but tonight he looks extra EXTRA hot

he’s wearing all bLAck tonight

black t-shirt

black ripped jeans

black bomber jacket

he even smells sexy

he smells like that denim shirt that’s hanging in ur closet

oH and he’s wearing a bandana and for some reason the sight of him in a bandana makes you s w e a t

yoongi leans back and drapes an arm over the back of the booth and you’re vEry tempted to snuggle right into him but unfortunately the two of you are noT at that stage yet

“this is our third bowl of pretzels and our second round of beers, so no, we haven’t just been sitting here this whole time.” jungkook points out smartly and you nod understanDably

he’s such a dweeb

you love it

alright well

apparently the party don’t start til you walk in

you give yoongi’s thigh a couple pats before pointing at the bar “i’m gonna go get us some shots!” you grin excitedly as you slide out of the booth

all of the boys sit in silence until they all decide you’re at a safe distance away from them

“…..she touched your thiGhHhHhhhH” taehyung wiggles his brows and yoongi scoffs and rolls his eyes

“so what?”

“…yo diCK is close to your thiGhHhHhhhH”

“so in a way she indirectly touched your dick” jungkook holds his hand out for a fist bump

yoongi looks at the two of them in an unimpressed manner

“hi, can i get a round of kamikazes please?” you smile politely at the bartender before handing him your card

you gon be honest

you don’t actually know what a kamikaze is

you googled a list of shots on your way here and kamikaze was on that list

there’s also a type of shot called a blowjob but you’re not sure how it’s going to go down if you ask the bartender for a round of blowjobs

“what’s a pretty little thing like you doing at a place like this?” you jump in surprise when someone suddenly appears next to you and you’re about to run away in fear but then you get a better look at this guy

there’s no other way to describe it

this binch looks just as Expensive as you

you recognise that limited edition gold rolex that wink at you under the shoddy lighting

“…i could say the same for you” you raise a brow before turning to face the bar again

whY is the bartender taking so long

the guy laughs and tilts his head back a little before leaning forward and offering you a smirk “i’m seokjin. and you are?”

“not interested.” you clap back immediately jin raises his hands in defence but doesn’t back off

“feisty, aren’t we?”

“only when we have to be.” you shrug casually

“fair enough.” he hums and drums his fingers against the counter

a beat of silence goes by and you’re surprised he hasn’t made anoTher move

this guy seems harmless enough so you figure that giving him your name won’t be the woRst decision you’ll ever make in your life

plus the bartender is really taking his sweet time with those drinks and you’re getting bored

“i’m y/n.” you stick your hand out and jin’s eyes flicker down to your hand before he takes it graciously and gives you a firm shake

“well, it’s very nice to meet you. are you here by yourself?”

you snort immediately and shake your head “i wouldn’t come here by myself.” the bartender pauses and raises a brow at you and you give him a sheepish smile “no offence.”

if you thought your drinks were taking a long time to be made they’re going to take even lonGer now

good job u goober

“can i at least buy you a drink? maybe you can come over to my booth and we can chit-chat, see where that takes us…”

“or you could just buy me a drink and we can go our separate ways from there.” you grin and jin tilts his head before letting out a small laugh

“is that how you’re going to play it, sweetheart?” the thin gold chain hanging around his neck shimmers slightly as he shifts and leans closer to you

“i pholhd yew i could fit more phretfulz into my mouf fhan yew” jungkook mumbles and a pretzel falls out of his mouth

jimin is crAcking up at the sight of taehyung practically drooling all over himself

namjoon looks disappointed and hoseok looks vEry amused

yoongi glances over at the bar and furrows his brows in confusion when he sees you talking to,.,.., someone you’re obviously very comfortable with if you’re letting him tuck your hair behind your ear like that

whoever this fella is

he’s wearing a crisp button-up tucked into a pair of slacks and he has his sleeves rolled up (and he knows how weak u r for rolled up sleeves because you always get really moon-eyed when hE rolls his sleeves up)

yoongi clears his throat and shifts in his seat

what was he thinking???  

christ

you guys are from two different worlds

what

was

he

thinking!!!

inviting you here?? and you’RE paying the shots omg he should’ve gone up there to pay for the shots

“miss, your round of kamikazes?”

“be a gentleman, kihyun. why don’t you deliver her shots to her friends for her?” jin points over at yoongi and the others and kihyun nods obediently

“oH oh you really don’t have to- okay never mind”

jin is a nice guy but also u want to go back to ur friends

“so, where were we?”

“you were about to buy me a drink and i was going to accept the drink and then leave” you joke and turn to look over your shoulder juSt in time to see kihyun setting the tray down on the table

okay you know what

one drink isn’t going to hurt

you’ll just enjoy onE drink and then you’ll leave

that way the boTh of you are satisfied..,,.ish

yoongi can’t help but glance over at the bar agaIN and he rolls his eyes when he catches the sight of you throwing your head back in laughter at something

who the hell does this guy think he is anyway

and what kinda guy who dresses like thAt would want to hang out here

no

he’s overthinking it

“hey, your friend told me to bring the shots here. seven kamikazes.”

“OoOohHH yeah lets gET IT” jungkook reaches for a shot as soon as the tray is set down and it goes down his hatch in 0.1 seconds

uh

okay wow

obviously you’re not interested in hanging out with them anymore because you’re stiLL with that guy at the var aND you got the bartender to deliver the shots over so you could kEEP talking to mr. perfect over there

“ooh, these are good!!”

“veRy citrusy”

“are we sure there’s even alcohol in this because it kinda just tastes like orange juice”

“you think we can order more?”

yoongi’s shot is the only one left untouched

jungkook reaches over to tap his shoulder

“hyung, you gonna take a shot?”

yoongi clenches his jaw and reaches over blindly for the shot glass

he tilts his head back and swallows it before setting the glass down firmly

“jEez it wasn’t like i was going to take it or anything” jungkook mutters under his breath

whAtever

yoongi wipes his mouth with the back of his hand

you’re allowed to flirt with whoever you’d like

it’s not like you guys have a thing or anything

you even told him you didn’t want him to come and pick you up so obviously you’ve established that this is a friendship and nothing more

it’s fine

yeah

you guys don’t have a thing

which means hE can flirt with whoever he’d like as well

“anywaYs you’re very nice, jin, but i don’t want you to get the wrong idea or anything…” you smile sheepishly and scratch the back of your neck

you don’t want to tell this complete stranGer about the ins and outs of your will-they-won’t-they relationship with yoongi but you are vEry much tipsy and tipsy y/n just does not have a filter whatsoever “i’m here with yoongi!!!!!!” you clear your throat and gesture towards where the boys are

that strawberry margarita was really good

you could probably drink like twelveteen more of those  

jin glances over your shoulder and raises a peRfect brow (you need to ask him where he gets his brows done because woW)

“which one is this yoongi?” he looks back at you

uh

you weren’t expecting to be quEstioned like this

“uh, he’s the one with the-“ you turn to glance over your shoulder

huh

yoongi isn’t at the table

“well he’s around here someWhere he’s wearing a bandana and he has a tattoo sleeve you know he’s reALLy not that hard to spot-“

“oh! i see him!” you perk up immediately and try to follow jin’s line of sight “you mean the one dancing with my friend?”

wait what

“your friend? where’s your friend-“ the moment your eyes land on yoongi and jin’s friend you feel every single droplet of blood draining from your face

oh boy

yep

that’s yoongi alright

she has a hand tangled up in his hair while the other is running down his chest

he leans down as she says something in his ear and you see him laugh

the two of them continue to sway to the beat and you feel sick to your stomach when you notice her push yoongi’s hand down from her waist to her bum

you immediately turn back to face jin and you feel your cheeks heat up in embarrassment

u just told this guY that you were here with another guY only to find out that the guy that you came with looks like he’s having a greAt time with someone else  

yikes

“for the record - i would never do that to you.” he asks “chivalry is hard to find nowadays, no?”

you swallow thickly and try to snap yourself out of it

it’s not a big deal

yoongi can do whatever he wants

it’s not like he’s showing romantic interest in you just because he invited you to hang out with him

you’re just one of the bros

“say- how about you and your friends join my friends and i in the vip room? the more, the merrier!” jin nods in acknowledgement as the bartender sets a tray of shots down on the counter for him

“uh, maybe! maybe. thank you for the drink, by the way.” you smile politely and watch as he heads towards the velvet door with a gold VIP label on it

how faNcy  

you weren’t going to mention anything to the guys but they asked you what took you so long and the moment the phrase ‘vip section’ slips out of your mouth all the boys immEdiately slide out of the booth and head to said section

you and jimin bumped into yoongi on the dance floor on the way there and you kinda just.,.., awkwardly trailed behind him and his new gal pal as aLL of you made your way over there

anyways

now you’re here

in this truly unfortunate situation

and you are praying to all the gods to just make a black hole appear in the ground and swallow you up

first of all

you didn’t know how Big this room was

and you didn’t know that one person (jin) could have so many frienDS

because you are sitting in a circle with probabLy like twenty-ish (or more) other people (including the boys of course)

the point is you want to be literaLLy anywhere else BUT here right now

“i’m assuming everybody knows the rules of the game-“ jin sets the empty bottle of beer in the centre of the circle and you feel your palms starting to sweat because heLLO you don’T know the rules of the game

also you don’t know haLF these people

a couple of the girls introduced themselves to you but you have horrible memory so their names went into one ear and riGht out the other in like 0.1 seconds

“maybe you should, like, go over the rules one more time to… y’know, to refresh our memories!” you clear your throat and feel your cheeks heat up when you catch jennie snickering

“okay, well… you spin the bottle, and whoever the bottle points at, you have to kiss them for ten seconds.”

“it’s pretty self-explanatory.” one of the other girls mutter

you take your bottom lip in between your teeth nervously “what happens if you don’T wanna kiss that person?”

“then you have to take off an article of clothing.”

wait what

t-that doesn’t sound like regular spin the bottle

thaT’s not how they do in the movies!!!!! everyone’s clothes stay ON in the movies!!!!!  

and then you realise

you oNLY have a dress on

you don’t have a cardigan or a jacket or anything

so if you don’t wanna kiss anybody you’re going to have to take your dress off

in front of all these people!!!!!!!!!!

can i get a thank u nEXT

“um, i have another question!” your hand shoots up into the air “what if instead of taking a piece of clothing off you take a shot instead?”

“ah, that’s a good idea! if you don’t want to kiss your person, then you take a shot aND you take a piece of clothing off!” jin claps his hands together “good thinking, y/n!”

WAIT WHAT

nO you would like to retrACT your statement omg

so

you can safely say that this is one of the WORST experiences in your life

it’s about twenty minutes into the game

they actually changed the rules again so now you take a shot regardless of if you want to kiss your person or not

needless to say everybody is pretty hammered right now

except you of course

you’re like KindA tipsy

like giggly tipsy!!!! jin just keeps ordering margaritas for you and it would be ruDE of you to reject them

but you haven’t taken any shots yet

because you are one of the only people who hasn’t gotten a chance to spin the bottle yet (thank god)

you also are one of the only people who the bottle hasn’t landed on yet (which is also a thank goD)

“hey”

you turn to look at jin and a smile twitches at your lips when he hiccups

his cheeks are rosy and he’s glowing a bit

loVe that for him

“what do yoU want” you tease

“is there a mirror in your pants?”

“i’m not wearing pants.” you point out and gesture to your dress

“yah- can you just play along??” jin scoffs and pinches your arm

“okAy okay fine go on”

“-because i can seE myself in them” he beams proudly

you snort and roll your eyes playfully before whacking his bicep as he bursts into squeaKy giggles

“you think you’re funny?” you tease and jin nudges his elbow against yours

“you don’t think i’m funny??”

“i absolutely don’t think you’re funny”

“oOOh i have another one”

“can’t be any worse that that mirror one”

“the word of the day is legs.”

“is it?”

“let’s say we head back to your place and spread the word.”  he purrs into your ear and you nEARly screech

“jiN!!!!” you gasp and turn to gawk at him “that’s hoRRIBle you FreAK”

yoongi clenches his jaw when he sees you smack jin’s arm as the two of you continue giGGling away at god knows what

whatever he said can’t possibly be thAt funny

“my turn!!!” jennie gets up onto her knees and shuffles towards the bottle

you suddenly stop laughing because oh no it’s jennie’s turn

with a quick fliCk of her wrist she sends the bottle spinning

okay

logically speaking there is a 1/28 chance of it landing on you

but more importantly

logically speaking there is a 1/28 chance of it landing on a certain someone else who shall not be named but it’s pretty obvious who you don’T want it to land on

your nails dig into the meat of your palm as you watch the bottle intently

you don’t get a chance to continue worrying about the logistics of the situation because jin taps your shoulder again

good

you need a distraction anyways

she spun it really violently so it seems like it’s going to take a while to get there lol

“hEy hey hey i’ll give u a nickel if u tickle my pickle”

you snort immediately and shake your head

“i’ll give you a nickel to shuT up” you reach over to flick his forehead “we met like forty minutes ago but i am confident in saying that you only think with your dick”

“in thAt case would you like to blow my mind?”

chRIST

it neVER ENDS

yoongi sets his beer down slowly when the he realises the bottle is pointing right at him

he swallows thickly

oh boy

his eyes flicker up and he sees jennie looking right at him with bEdroOm eyes

and then he hears you and jin craCking up and he turns his head to look at you guys

…..,.,,.,.

what if jin takes you home tonight

what if jin takes you home tonight

well

FINe

if jin takes you home tonight then he’s allowed to take jennie home tonight

yoongi’s eyes flicker back to jennie and he gestures towards himself before leaning back against one palm “get over here.”

“c’mon now, that one was really good!”

“if you ever approach someone with that line you’re going to get slapped-“ you immediately lose your train of thought when you turn your head to see jennie and yoongi fuLLy going at it

“and that’s 10 seconds!”

yoongi’s the first to pull away and he wipes his mouth with the back of his hand

he ain’t gon lie

that was kind of slobbery

her lip gloss is also sickLY sweet

“y/n, you’re the only one who hasn’t spun yet! why don’t you give it a try?” jin nudges your side and you snap out of it and look at the bottle “i know yoongi’s technically supposed to be spinning now but we should give you a shot at it before someone goes twice.”

“oh, i don’t- um, i don’t… i think i might just skip my turn.” you smile nervously

your heart is haMMering away in your chest

there are a million and one thoughts running through your mind right now and the amount of alcohol that’s flowing through your veins probably isn’t helping to calm you down

u just

u really liked yoongi :-(

you’ve had so much fun spending time with him for the past couple of weeks

but obviously you aren’t his type

which is okay! that’s fine

everything’s fine

also

you don’t want to play this game because you don’t want your first kiss to be because of spIN the bottle

“c’mon, y/n. we aren’t getting any younger here, girl!”

“o-okay! okay, i’m- i’ll spin.” you clear your throat before leaning over and grasping the bottle

you give it a good agGREssive spin and watch as it goes round and round and round and round

oh boy

this sucks

you thought he liked u back

like you really REALLy thought he liked you back

he’s just been so nice and sweet to you!!!!!!

well to be fair he kind of has to be nice and sweet to you because you are paying him to fix your verY expensive car

he probably just wanted a faT tip that’s why he’s been so kind

and maybe he only invited you here tonight because you bought lunch for him

also you literally have no experience with situations like this so you can’t assume that he likEs you just because you like him

whatever

you should go for someone like jungkook who’s closer to you in age

well thEre you go again assuming that someone who obviously doesn’t like you likes you

“hey, look at that! it’s your lucky day, y/n!”

you snap out of it aGAIN and look down at the bottle that’s pointing right at

jin

you turn your head to look at him and he immediately flashes you his oh-so-charming smile “get ready for the best 10 seconds of your life, darling”

you immEdiately start to panic when jin reaches up to cup the side of your jaw and your fingers wrap around his wrist tightly

okay

yeah

just go with it

kiss him

he’s a nice guy!!!!! he bought manY drinks for you, he invited you and your friends to his vip room, he’s nice!!!!!

you’re going to give this complete sTRanger your first kiss even though you would much rather give it to yoongi

jin has nice lips though so maybe you can just preTEnd it’s yoo-

“waIT WAIt waIT-“ jin jolts in surprise before his eyes pop open and he blinks at you “i- my lips are chapped.”  

his eyes flicker down to your lips and you feel your cheeks flush when his thumb brushes over your bottom lip “they feel awfully smooth to me.”

he starts leaning in again

and in the corner of your eye you see yoongi leaning in and whispering something into jennie’s ear

she places her hand on his knee and starts sliding it up his thigh

and you don’t know what happens

but you snAp

“what the hell is wrong with you??”

y i k e s

jin’s eyes pop open and he’s about to retaliate but he realises you’re not even looking at him

you’re looking at yoongi

yoongi furrows his brows before scoffing and look around the circle “is this part of the game?” he jokes and there’s like a scAtter of nervous laughter

“i’m-“ you look around the circle as well and swallow thickly

ok

maybe u just embarrassed urself a little bit by your outburst

a couple people are avoiding eye contact with you

namjoon presses his lips together and looks down when you look at him

hoseok is giving you a pity-infused smile

and jungkook

jungkook fell asleep on one of the girls

“i’m- uh, i should go.” you mutter and get up off the ground “soRRy about that, you guys!” you clear your throat and gesture to the bottle “someone else can take my turn!”

“i’ll spin!” jin claps his hands together when a beat of silence goes by “if ya can’t take the heat, get out of the kitchen!” he jokes

another round of scattered laughter

at least there’s less awKward tension

you can feel how hot your face is from under your makeup

at least it’s full coverage so no one will ever be able to tell that your face is on FIRE

the chilly air sobers you up a little more as you push the door open

you let out a breath and pull your phone out to call an uber

you just want to go home

wipe all this makeup off

wash your hair

maybe you’ll take a bubble bath

do a face mask

“y/n, wait-“ the momeNT you hear yoongi’s voice all hell breaks loose once again

you are AN G RY

“let gO of me-!” you shove yoongi’s hand off your wrist before whipping around and adjusting your purse on your shoulder with a huff

yoongi immediately raises his hands in defence before he furrows his brows at you “what the hell was that all about?? are you ok-“

“is this just a game to you??”

yoongi blinks at you before scratching the back of his neck

“is… is the game… just a game to me?”

“no i’m not talking about the stUpid game yoongi i’m talking about-“ you pause because you don’t really know hoW to word this without sounding like an obsessive maniac “i don’t understand you! i thought you- you’re just sO fruSTRATING”

yoongi scoffs immEdiately and crosses his arms

“i don’t think you’re allowed to say that when you were the one flirting with jin like craZy”

“i wasn’t- i wasn’t flirting with him!”

“you totALLy were! someone would have to be blind if they thought you weren’t flirting with him!”

“you were the one who literally mADE out with someone else!!!”

“y/n, it was a game-“

“i just don’t think it’s fair that yOU were the one who invited me to this hole in the wall and then yOU go off and start making out with someone else and dancing and-“

“well you know what i am so so sorry for taking you to this grubby hole in the wall!” yoongi snaps and you shut up immediately “you know what, you’re right, i think it’d be better if you just left.”

“i think it’d be better if we just nEver saw each other again!” you snap and cross your arms “we’re compLETE opposites-“

“sounds good to me!!! we’re from two diFFerent worlds so you should heAd back to the land of elitists because i- oh! should i hail a cab for you or is that too gross and poor for little miss spoilt brat??” yoongi’s tone is sO patronising and you’re (this) close to slapping him across the face “what’s the matter?? something doesn’t go your way so the firSt thing you do is sTorm out like a child????”

“excuse me?!” you hiss and shove at his chest “you’re an asshole. you’re an asshole!”

you already feel angry tears prickling at your eyes as you whip around

“fuck, y/n, wait-!”

all you know is that you don’t ever want to see min yoongi ever again and you’d be happy to get in your car and run him over and over and over and ovER agAIN

and suddenly you’re reminded that you don’t have a car to run him over with because your car is in hIS damn SHOP

“y/n, i didn’t mean-“

somehow you manage to cross the street without tripping over yourself and you pick up the pace to get as far away from yoongi as possible

god

what a night

you should’ve stayed home

the moment you step into the penthouse everything just seems to go wrong

your keys fall the ground with a clatter

you nearly trIp and fall flat on your face as you undo your sandals

you toss your clutch onto the couch but it bounces off the pillows and falls to the ground

you head straight to your bedroom and the second you throw yourself onto the bed you burst into tears

you hate everything

everything sucks

min yoongi espeCially sucks

you hate that he,.,.,. he patronised and belittled you like that

you haTe that he made all those comments about you being a spoilt brat because everyone who’s ever been mean to you have made those exact comments and you never thought yoongi would be one of those people

okay look

you don’t want to be one of those rich people but you can’t help it!!!! yes you’ve always had more of a comfortable lifestyle (which is completely out of your control like wtf you didn’t chOOSe to be born into a well-off family) but like.,., at the same time it’s isolated you

throughout elementary school and high school you know for a fact you were invited to all those parties and dinners only because people knew that you’d be the one who’d get them the most expensive presents (you got this one girl a purse from louis vuitton one year and the next year when you got her a bag of gummy bears ((because she liKED guMMY BEARs)) she literally threw them into the bin and you were like??? and then when you apologised and gave her a necklace from tiffany’s she immediately forgave you and you did noT like that vibe) or you’d be the one who was always like “i’ll get the bill!!!! no worries!!!!!!”

and now we’re back to square 1

completely alone

because you’ll never be anything more than little miss spoilt brat who maxes out daddy’s credit card and pouts when she doesn’t get what she wants  

oh my god

you’re going to be become one of those rich old ladies who don’t have anybody to share their huGe mansions with

“hyung? you alright?” jungkook asks meekly

as soon as yoongi ran out after you all of the boys did the same

of course they kept their distance but they heard evErything from your guys’ conversation

and now yoongi’s just standing by the truck

namjoon clears his throat before jingling the keys in his fingers (they fell out of yoongi’s pocket when he ran out) “i’ll drive because i only took that one shot and i’m pretty sure it’s worn off-“

all of a sudden yoongi swINgs his fist and drives it sTraight into the side mirror

hoseok yelps in surprise and jimin immediately slaps a hand over his mouth

the mirror immediately cracks and shatters into pieces before splintering onto the ground

yoongi’s panting slightly as he inspects the damage on boTh the mirror and his fist

droplets of blood splatter onto the floor among the pieces of glass

he clenches his fist and watches as crimson continues to ooze out of the fresh wound

yoongi opens the door and hops into the truck before slamming the door shut

everyone else kinda looks at each other

poor jungkook has gone has white as a sheet of paper because he gets vEry queasy over the sight of blood

“he bent the mirror.” tae squeaks out

he did noT know yoongi was capable of causing that much damage

“everyone get into the truck. now.” namjoon hisses lowly and everyone scuRries to get in

the shards of glass crunch underneath the tires as namjoon pulls out of the parking spot

yoongi stays silent the entire ride back

he doesn’t flinch when namjoon tends to his wounds and literally pulls a thin sliver of glass out from his knuckles

it sTings and burns like hell but it doesn’t show on his face

it’s fine

yoongi knows he deserves the pain.

it has officially been twelve days since the blowout

and yoongi thinks he’s losing his mind

he can’t stop thinking about you

he can’t stop thinking about how your eyes glazed over and your bottom lip trembled

how your voice wavered as you shoved at his chest and called him an asshole

it doesn’t matter

you two would’ve never worked out anyway so maybe this fight was for the best

he just won’T come in to work the day you come and pick your car up

yeah! it doesn’t matter at all

all you are is an entitled trust fund baby who whines when she doesn’t get what she wants and when you dO get what you want it’s simply not enough

but oh

yoongi knows he’s just lying through his teeth when he says that

you’re noT just this one-dimensional princess

there’s more to you than just that

there’s so much more to you

you’re so kindhearted and generous

hE was the one who fucked up

hE was the one who got weirdly insecure and completely lashed out on you

hE was the one who made out with that jennie girl in front of you knowIng that there was something between the two of you even though it had never been established

he knEW that you liked him yet he still pulled all that shit

why?????? WHY?????

anyways

he hasn’t made a move to text or call you because he knows you’re not going to respond to him

he did draft out this long long text message but he ended up deleting it

and he was going to leave a voicemail but it was just really awkward and also he ran out of time

it kept beeping on him before he could finish his speech

he knows he’s the last person you want to hear from right now

yoongi looks down at his wrapped up knuckles and slowly makes a fist

oW

why couldn’t he have punched a piLLOW

yoongi swivels around in his chair when he hears a gentle knock on the door

“what do you want?” he gets straIght to the point and jimin raises a brow before deciding it’s okay to let himself in

“uh, i just need you to sign off on this order.” he places the clipboard on the desk

yoongi’s pen glides over the dotted line quickly and he clicks it before shoving it back into the pen holder

“cool, thanks.” jimin nods and picks the clipboard back up

before he can make it to the door yoongi speaks up again

“can i ask you something?”

jimin turns to glance over his shoulder before he turns all the way so he can face yoongi

he has a feeling he knows where this is going

“you guys heard everything, didn’t you?”

“heard wha-“

“you know what i’m talking about.” yoongi says gently

jimin knows it’s best noT to beat around the bush

after all he doesn’t want to end up like that side mirror

lol

.,,.,too soon?

“um, yes. yes, we heard everything. we didn’t mean to, though, we just ran out because-“

“on a scale from 1 to 10 how badly did i fuck it up with y/n?”

god damnit

he should’ve gotten jungkook to come in here and ask yoongi to sign the sheet

jimin immediately presses his lips together and avoids yoongi’s gaze “with all due respect hyung i really don’t think it’s any of my business-“

“i just need you to be honest with me because i have no idea what to do and i-“

“like a 20. like a colossal 20.” jimin blurts out and offers him a shrug when yoongi stares at him in shoCK

twenty????? TWENTY OUT OF TEN

yoongi lets out a groan and leans back against his chair and he stares at the ceiling fan whirring around and around

he presses the heels of his hands into his eyes and curses to himself

“do you like her?”

“of course i like her, you moron.” yoongi scoffs and shoots him a dirty look

“hey you know what i don’t have to help you if i don’t want to.” jimin starts to get up and yoongi reaches out to grab onto his wrist

he lets out a sigh “i’m… i’m sorry. i know you’re just trying to help, i’m just kiNDa all over the place right now”

jimin plops back down on the seat

“so you like her?”

“as we’ve established already yeS i do like her”

“well why don’t you just tell her that?”

“i don’t… i can’t.” yoongi exasperates and tilts his head back before folding his hands on his stomach

“what do you mean?? it’s obvious she likes you back. or she at least likeD you back. i’m not sure about it with the present situation.”

yoongi gives him a warning look

“i’m not… i’m not for people like her, y’know?”

jimin snorts and leans back against the chair “what’s that supposed to mean? are you from mars? are you not human?”

“not like thAt! she’s supposed to be with like… i don’t know, a businessman or a manager or-“

“you’re a businessman aNd a manager-“

“of a car repair shop, jimin. not like some biG shot car repair shop either.”

“you’re overthinking this big time. i’m not going to sit here and deliver a whole speech about you need to follow your heart and all that bullshit - at the end of the day, y/n obviously likes you for you. so get your head out of your ass and talk to her before it’s too late.”

“what if it’s already too late?”

“trust me, it’s not. knowing y/n she probably would’ve broken into the shop in the middle of the night to get her car back if she never wanted to see you again.”

yoongi can’t help but laugh at the sight of you picking a lock with like a gucci hairpin or something

“…can i clock out early because i helped you?”

“absolutely not.”

you spoon a bite of coco puffs into your mouth and chew slowly

yuck

room temperature cereal is not pleasant

mushy cereal is not pleasant either

would not recommend

0/10

you toss the bowl into the sink carelessly and winCe at the loud clank

oops

you haven’t been up to a lot lately in the past twelve days

you go to class

you go home

you do work

you turn netflix on

you eat dinner

you take a shower

you go to bed

time seems to have meshed together nowadays

you just feel so

..,drained

your phone buzzes on the counter and your heart drops to your stomach when you see the contact name

‘min mechanics’

o no

you’re not ready

you don’t want to talk to him

your finger hovers over the decline button but it seems that your finger has a mind of its own because-

“oh shit-“ you pick the phone up as soon as you hit the accept button “hello?” you clear your throat

“y/n? hey! it’s namjoon.” you can’t help but let out a breath of relief because if it was yoongi who called you would not have known how to react

“joon, what’s up?”

“beeper is ready for you!! we polished him up and everything! you can come pick him up whenever you’d like.”

“…you can’t drive him to my place or anything?”

you hear namjoon let out a sigh from the other end of the phone

“i could do that for you… but i think you and yoongi have some things to talk about.”

“i don’t want to talk to him.” you murmur and namjoon hEars the pout in your voice

“i know you don’t, but you know you need to talk to him. it’s definitely going to be awkward but-”

“i don’t even think he wants me around, namjoon. he said it himself, we’re from two different worlds!” you huff and flop down on your bed

“obviously it’s none of my business but i just… yoongi’s happier when you’re around, y’know? and i know for a fact that he makes you just as happy - it’s pretty obvious you two are… into each other, and i just think it’d suck if you let this bump in the road ruin your relationship with him… he’s stubborn, i know…”

“he said a lot of hurtful things, joon.” you feel your eyes starting to water as you’re forCed to relive the memory “like, a lot of hurtful things.”

“i know he did. i- i don’t know what to say about that but you have to believe me when i say yoongi is not that kind of person. just… please come?”

well

it looks like you don’t have much of a choice because you do need your car back

“…i’ll swing by later, joon.”

you heard namjoon let out a breath of relief “that’s great, y/n, that’s so great. i’ll see you later!”

yes

you will noT regret this

plus you do want to clear the air with yoongi even though you hate confrontation

anD you want to apologise because it wasn’t right for you to freak out like that when he was with that other girl

you guys hadn’t established any kind of relationship so it simply didn’t make sense for you to be all bOO-hooey and-

ooH or you could just get a new car so you never have to see him again

maybe you’ll move to greece

live on a vineyard

start your own wine-making business

enjoy fresh pita and hummus and kalamata olives everyday

noPE

don’t do that

don’t throw money at your problems and expect them to go away (even though you can definitely afford to move to greece)

you are noT that cowardly person anymore

“miss? uh, we’re here.” you look out the window and feel your heart starting to race when you see that familiar sign

min mechanics

ok

it’ll be fine

just go in

find namjoon

find beeper

and get the heCk out of here

it was a mistake to wear your boots today because you are doing the complete OPPOSITE of avoiding attention

click clack click clack clickclackclickclackclickclackclickclack

“hey guys” you smile shyly when you pass by the boys

they’re all working together on a convertible and they all look shoCked that you actually came  

aLL the boys are here

which has to mean that yoongi’s around here somewhere

o god

you’re like three seconds away from getting a heart attack

okay nope

just focus

you push the door open and the bell tinkles

“joon,” you are sO relieved to see namjoon sitting behind the counter “sorry i took so long to get here.”

the door to yoongi’s office is closed

thank god

maybe he didn’t come in today

“it’s all good!” namjoon chirps and pulls out a couple sheets of paper from a file before getting up and placing them on the counter ”how have you been? uh, sign here, and here.”

“i’ve been good! a little busy with studying for finals and all that but either than that i’ve been good.” you nod and click the pen “how about you?”

“i’ve been doing well. i’ve been watching these nature documentaries on netflix-“

“-planet earth?” your hand pauses on the sheet and for the firSt time in twelve days you flash a genuine smile

“planet earth!” namjoon laughs lightly “it’s a great series, i love it.”

it’s a good thing you and namjoon have good small-talking skills otherwise it would just be compLETE silence right now

“okay, there you go.” you set the pen down and namjoon takes the sheets from you and double-checks that you signed everything

“i’ll go and get beeper ready for you! just wait here, i’ll be riGht back.”

“wait but-“ before you know it namjoon walks past you and leaves you aloNE in the office and you start chewing on your bottom lip nervously

maybe you can go hide in the washroom til namjoon comes back

yep

sounds like a good plan-

all of a sudden the office door opens and you feel your heart stop

frICK

“hey namjoon have you seen the- …oh, uh…“

“hi.”

“hey.”

a beat of awkward silence goes by

the tension is sO thick and you’ve never been so uncomfortable in your entire life

“i was just- sorry, i was looking for namjoon.”

“oh, he, um, he’s getting bee- my car, he’s getting my car for me.” you clear your throat and gesture towards the front door

“cool, cool.” yoongi slaps a hand against the frame of the door gently and nods

christ this is awkward

what happened to that small-talking skill girL

“alright, y/n! he’s all set and ready to go!” namjoon sticks his head in and he falters when he registers what’s going on

his eyes flicker in between you and yoongi “oh, sorry, was i interrupting-“

“nO no you weren’t! i’m comIng” you move at lightning speed to get as far away from yoongi as possible  

“y/n wait-“ there’s no way in hell yoongi’s going to let you get away agaIN

he’ll find another dang mirror to punch if he lets that happen

namjoon hands him the keys to beeper along with a notepad “you should probably do the final check on the car instead of me”

“yeah, thanks man.” yoongi tucks the notepad into his back pocket before jogging out

“heY jimin did a really good job with the polishing!” you smooth your hands over beeper’s hood “beeper’s blinDing me-“ you turn around and jump in surprise when you see that it’s yoongi standing behind you and not namjoon “….where’s nam-“

“please shut up for like one second.”

ooOOOKAY

noT the greatest opening line!!!!!!!!!!!!

oof

yikes

…,,.yooF

he’s nERVOUS OKAY

he wasn’t expecting to have to deal with this sO quickly

if he’d had known that you were coming today he would’ve prepared some flash cards or something but this is his chance to just be completely real with you and get everything off his chest

“y/n, i’m sorry. really, i am. i’m not very… good with apologies but this is me trying my best.” he clears his throat and he looks like he’s having a hard time collecting everything that he wants to say to you “all the things i said to you… god, i was a complete asshole and you didn’t deserve any of that. i-i didn’t even mean any of that shit i said, y’know? i think i just… i got all weird and insecure because i saw you with jin and i just… it reminded me that we… we’re… i’m… i mean, i’m a mechanic, for crying out loud. i fix cars for a living and he had a damn gold watch that probably costs more than my rent!! i understand if you don’t ever wanna talk to me again, i totally get it, i wouldn’t wanna see me again either after being spoken to like that but i just needed to say sorry to you to let you know that i really, really didn’t mean a word of what i said. you deserve so much better than me.” yoongi shrugs and scratches the back of his neck “i don’t know. it’s stupid. i’m stupid. i don’t-”

“the only difference between you and jin that i really care about is the fact that i don’t like jin, but i… i like you.” you admit shyly and if your face wasn’t red before it certainLy is now “and it doesn’t matter to me that you’re a mechanic, y’know? i’m sorry, too. i said some things that i didn’t mean either… i really appreciated you asking me to hang out with you and the guys and that place wasn’t even that grubby!! i was just being- i don’t know, i think i just mad at you because you.. dId all that with jennie-“

“-which was the worst kiss of my life if that makes you feel any better-“

“i’ll forgive you if you forgive me?” you suggest and yoongi nods enthusiastically

“i will find a way to make it up to you, i swear.”

“also, you’re a moron.”

“wha- well, yeah, i guess i deserve that but-“

“okay now it’s youR turn to shut up for like one second.” you stick your hand up and yoongi clams up immediately “you’re a moron for worrying that i was going to pick jin over you just because he’s a millionaire-“

“he’s a millionaire-!”

“because i could give leSS of a shit about that! you’re really sweet and kind and i think you’re awfully funny aNd not to mention you’re pretty easy on the eyes-“ okay y/n reel it back a bit lmao “a-anyways yeah that’s- look the point is you shouldn’t be insecure over something as silly as your job..,,. in faCt i think the whole mechanic thing is actually kinda sexy”

oKAY that’s noT reeling it back at ALL BUT GREAT GOD JO B you said what you wanted to say

“also…what the hell happened to your hand?”

oh right

yoongi glances down at his wrapped up hand

should he tell you that he punched a side mirror and had a shard of glass stuck in his knuckles

“eh, don’t worry about it. it was just an accident.” he waves it off

hm

you’ll find out soOner or later

“so-“ yoongi clears his throat “…you like me or you like-like me?” yoongi raises a brow and offers you a cocky smirk and you immediately scoff in response and cross your arms before looking in the other direction

“don’t flatter yourself i was just being nice”

“don’t lie to me now” yoongi steps closer to you and hooks a finger under your chin before turning your head so that you’re facing him “you got anything you wanna ask me?”

your eyes immediately widen

well

yes

you have a question for him of course you have a question for him

hoW do you even approach a situation like this do you just bluRt it out????

“do you, um, do you…” you puff your cheeks out in frustration and immediately divert your gaze to the ground

you start toeing at the ground nervously (which is something you haven’t done since you were like 12) while your fingers tug at the hem of your blouse

“like… i-i just… do you… do you like me? …back? do you like me back?” you finAlly get it out of your system and you feel like your entire face is on fire “it’s just… sometimes i get the feeling that you like me and other times i get the feeling that you’re just being friendly and i’ve never really, y’know, i don’t have a lot of experience with this kinda stuff so i just need you to tell me straight up if you like me back or if i’m just being delusional…”

“what do you mean by not having a lot of experience with ‘this kinda stuff’? you mean going out and getting something you want by yourself?” yoongi teases and your cheeks flush even further

wow

now that you two have forgiven each other it seems like he’s reverteD back to his usual self

yoongi likes this

this is a fun game

obviously you’re used to getting what you want with the snap of your fingers

and yoongi is a firm believer in the idea that in order to get what you want you gotta work hard

you gotta put in the effort!!!!

yeah suRe he knows that you like him just as much as he likes you (and thaT gets him super excited)

but he’s not going to give in to you that easy

no no

if you want him you better shoW him that you want him

“well yes buT also i meant like… boy-related experiences? i dunno” god this is humiliating

you hATE this

if you could turn back time you wouldn’t have brought this shit up in the first place you should’ve just hoPPEd into beeper and nyOOmed out of the garage “i haven’t even had my first kiss yet so like- look just teLL me if you like me back or not because i’m about to lose my-“  

“wait- you’ve never been kissed?” yoongi’s brows furrow in confusion and he tilts his head

how is that possible

how is it possible that you’ve never been kissed

ok well

now he feels a little bad for dragging this whole thing out

and also

he’s never seen you so… insecure? before

you can’t even look him in the eye

“are you kidding me?”

what the heck!!!!!!!!!!!

of course he likes you!!!!!

he’s liked you from day one!! when you walked in with your leather booties and your heart-shaped sunglasses and your little ‘hellooOOOoOo’

he liked you even more when you shoved your clobbered side mirror into his chest and insisted he fix your car right now immediately

and he liked you even even more when jungkook was straight up flexing in front of you but all you were paying attention to was him with your bottom lip tucked in between your teeth and your cheeks all pink and rosy

that was for him

all for him

“well you don’t have to say it like thAt” you grumble and reach up to scratch at the back of your neck “look thiS was stupid just forget i said anythi-“

“i like you back. i definitely like you back.” yoongi admits casually as he scribbles something on his little notepad

“you- oh. okay.”

ok

you didn’t think thiS far ahead

what’s your next move

uhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh

“so what are you gonna do about it?” yoongi tucks his notepad into his pocket and crosses his arms before looking at you expectantly

uHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

he pokes his tongue into his cheek and tilts his head when you continue to stand there and stare at him blankly like a deer in headlights “ah. so you’re not going to do anything about it. alright.” he sighs and turns to head back to the office “i’m just going to bring namjoon back out here and he’ll take care of-“

and before you know it you’re grabbing onto his wrist and yanking him back and-

yoongi feels like his heart is about to explode when you pull him down and press your lips against his

his eyes flutter shut and he places his hands on your hips and gives you a gentle squeeze

your arms are wrapped loosely around his neck and you pull away with flushed cheeks

oh god

u just kissed yoongi

thAt was your first kiss

mission success!!!!!!!!!

“…there, i did something about it” you grumble and puLL your arms back

and then it hits you

oh my god i just kissed yoongi and woW his lips are like supEr soft and he tastes like cherry which makes sense because he loves those lollipops-

“you’re so cute.” yoongi laughs and nudges you back til you’re sitting on beeper’s hood

you’re pretty sure you’re not supposed to be sitting on beeper

“what are you doing? i-“

you know what you could care leSS about beeper because yoongi’s kiSsing you!!!! again!!!

AGAIN!!!!!!!!!

:~)

you have your fingers curled up in yoongi’s jumpsuit as you kiss him back and you let out a little whimper

yoongi’s thumbs circle your kneecaps before they drag a cheEky trail up the inside of your thighs

he squeezes your thighs and encourages you to open them wide enough so that he can stand in between them

“you good?” he mutters against your lips and you nod quickly and pull him closer

goD you’re so CUTE

he’s so soft for you it’s insane

he pulls your hand away from his jumpsuit and brings it up so that you can wrap your fingers around the nape of his neck

you immediately slide your hand up and tangle your fingers into his soft locks “there you go”

yoongi pulls away from you and revels in the small whimper that you let out

god

aren’t you a vision

your lips are swollen and glossy and your eyes are all blown out and your cheeks are warm and rosy

all that just from a little bit of kissing

“why’d you stop?” you pout and tug at his wrist

“you’d pass out if i continued.” he smirks and tucks a strand of hair behind your ear “and it appears we have an audience, don’t we?” he gets a little louder towards the end of his question and you immediately twist around to look behind you

sure enouGH the boys are all crouched behind a truck staring at the two of you like a bunch of PERVS

they immediately break off and pretend like they weren’t just watching you guys maKe out with each other

jungkook and taehyung bump into each other in their rush to head back to their stations and you snort at the sight

you turn back to face yoongi

“it was probably a good thing we were interrupted” yoongi leans down and gives you another quick kiss before helping you off the hood of the car

“what makes you say that?”

“i was fully ready to go down on you on top of-“

“bEEPER??” you gasp in mock horror and slap your hands over the top of beeper’s hood “you were going to defile me on top of my own car??”

“i mean…” yoongi shrugs before nodding

take you over the hood of your car?

heck yeah he would

he’d take you over the hood of anY car

“don’t listen to him beeper,.,.,. i’d neVer do that to you…”

if yoongi didn’t know any better it’d probably be safe to say that you might be a little tOo in love with beeper

yoongi is a busy man

he has a lot of cars he has to patch up and a lot of parts he has to put together

but uh

making out with u in the driver’s seat of his truck is a much better way to pass the time

he’ll just get the others to take care of the parts for him later

“u know i’m supposed to be replacing a muffler right now…” yoongi lifts his face and brushes his lips against yours teasingly

you can’t help but grin when you pull away slightly and yoongi squeezes your waist in warning

“u know that sounds like a you problem” your nose nudges against his and yoongi tilts his head upwards to kiss you again

since the two of you made up and forgave each other you’ve been visiting the shop moRe than three to four times a week

you practically live at the shop now

and yoongi doesn’t know if that’s a good or a bad thing

on one hand he likes having you around and he likes getting to kiss u whenever he wants

but on the other hand

it’s vEry distracting having you around and getting to kiss u whenever he wants because he aLways wants to kiss you

another bAd thing

whenever he kisses you the others get all oOoOooohHHhHhhh and yoongi is always so tempted to hurl a wrench at all of them

anyways

yoongi’s on his lunch break (that ended twenty minutes ago) and he decided to sneak you into his truck that’s parked in the back alley

his lips move with yours slowly and he revels in the little whimper that leaves you when he nips at your bottom lip

you’re acting extra cute for somE reason

and you look extra cute too

you’re wearing a pretty floral romper paired with your faVourite boots and once again you will never admit to anybody that it took you an hour and a half (you’re getting better) to throw it on

you decide that you’re going to be bold today and you find your hands slowly sliding down yoongi’s chest til they reach the buckle of his belt

yoongi reaches down quickly and wraps his slim fingers around your wrist before offering you a smirk and a tilt of his head “someone’s a little eager, no?”

“don’t you want me?” you push your bottom lip out in a pout and yoongi leans in to give you a lil peck

“course i do.” he chuckles lowly before raising a brow “but how about we start off with something more mild, hm?” he tucks a strand of hair behind your ear before his fingers glide down your jaw and he hooks one under your chin

“like what?” you lean down a little and nip at his fingers playfully and yoongi has never felt more fuckiGn endeared in his life

“do you trust me?”

“course i do.” you drape your arms around his shoulders

“alright, let’s just get you settled right here…” he lifts you up off his lap and onto his right leg instead

his.,., thigh?

you separate your legs so each knee settles on the leather seat on either side of his clothed thigh

ur not..,,.s ure what’s going on right now

but it’s once you get comfortable that you begin to feel the friction

“now what do i- oH-“ you gasp noisily when yoongi’s leg presses upwards and suddenly you spaSm a bit of out of surprise  

tingles shoot up your spine and your fingers twitch slightly on yoongi’s chest

“that feel good?”

“i- i’m not sure yet.” you blink down at yoongi’s thigh and he can’t help but laugh

“need me to help?”

“that would be ideal, yes.”

“well, it’s pretty easy. you just-“ he places his hands on your waist and pushes you back and imMediately you feel another spark of pleasure “and then you come this way,” he pulls you back and flexes his thigh underneath you and you let out a little hiccup

how..,,.intriguing

eventually you get the hang of things

you’re kinda doing it on your own but yoongi’s still guiding you back and forth a little

“that’s it, doll, just like that,” yoongi breathes out, his grip tightening on your waist as he helps you ride his leg

he leans back against the seat and watches you with hooded eyes as you continue to get yourself off on his thigh

your romper and your panties are botH very thin so you can just feel the rough fabric of yoongi’s jeans rubbing up against you

you’re not going too hard but you’re not going too soft either

yoongi swallows thickly because now he has a pretty good picture of what you’d look like riding his c-

“christ-“ you gasp as yoongi raises his leg and pushes riGht up into you as he leans in and attaches his mouth to your neck

“now does it feel good?” he murmurs against you and you gasp and wrap your fingers around the nape of his neck

you can’t even describe how amazing this feels and all your thoughts are just white noise because holy shit this feels so good

you nod quickly and let out a whimper when you feel another wave of pleasure tremor through your body

god

you’re so soft n warm

and so submissive

“yoongi, please...” you don’t even know what you’re pleading for here but that’s all that’s able to come out of your mouth

he looks down and groans quietly when he notices the damp patch on his jeans

“oh,” yoongi coos mockingly, “you sweet thing, you... i wanna wreck you.”

you let out a whine and press your forehead against his shoulder as you continue grinding down on his thigh

your desperation pulls a low moan from yoongi’s throat and he shifts underneath you

“there you go, baby… such a good girl…”

look

you’re not entirely sure what happened here

but somehow you shifted from yoongi’s thigh to yoongi’s crotch

and yoongi just wanted to make this about you so he also doesn’t know how this happened but boY is he glad it happened

you’re literally going to make him cream his pants like a overly-hormonal 14 year old boy and he hasn’t done that in a long loNG TIME but you know what he does noT mind

“ah, fuck-“ yoongi growls and clenches his jaw as his calloused fingers dig into your supple flesh as you continue grinding down on him

you know how yoongi mentioned earlier he had a rough idea of what you’d look like riding him

well now he has a really reALLY clear idea of what you’d look like riding him

he can tell you’re close by the way your breathing has gotten heavier and your cheeks have become more flushed

and he is definitely going to keep this image of you tucked in his brain for safekeeping

you grow dizzy from pleasure and all of your senses are in ovErdrive and all you can think of is yoongi yoongi yoongi yooNGi

“yoonGi, i think i- nngh, yoongi-!“ yoongi’s hand slides up your thigh and curves your waist before he’s gripping at your ass to mould you to him

“look at you, you pretty little thing,” yoongi groans when your hips stutter

you’re driving him absolutely wild  

“lemme hear you, doll, nice n loud for me-“

yoongi is panting because goddamN you really seem like you want him to come before you  

he can bArely keep it together but there’s no way he’s going to come first

he pushes you down on him and lifts his hips up at the same time and you throw your head back with a breathless moan

“i-i- oh, t-that feels really- hAh-“ yoongi sucks a hickey into your skin and continues forcing you down on him

“you have no idea how badly i wanna be inside of you-“ he growls lowly and that does the trick

your toes curl as you’re finaLLY pushed over the edge and you swear you see black dots in your vision, whimpering through your release  

the sound of you gasping his name out and the sight of you trembling above him is what eventually gets to yoongi and he curses to himself as he reaches his high and gasps your own name in return

you feel a warm gush from underneath you and your eyes widen at the wet spot on yoongi’s crotch area

he gives you a few final thrusts before he slides his hands down from your waist so that they rest on the tops of your thighs  

you’re still breathing heavily as you lean down to press your forehead against his

“hi.” yoongi grins and gives u a little kiss and you immediately shy away from him and he feels his heart practically exploDe in his chest

“hi.” you murmur as you keep your gaze on the silver chain around his neck

you reach down to fiddle with it because you don’t know whaT to do now

yoongi reaches up and hooks a finger underneath your chin so that he can finally catch your gaze “you okay?”

you nod shyly and feel your cheeks flush again

“what’s gotten into you, hm?” yoongi teases and leans in to give you another quick kiss “ya can’t get all shy on me now when you were humping me like a rabbit in heat literally thirty seconds ago”

“yOoNgI”

“no but really!! what’s up?”

“i just like u a lot” you admit and your nose scrunches

yoongi grins and feels his heart skip a beat

he reaches up and pinches your nose and you immediately scowl and flick his hand away

“i like you too, doll.”

out of all the mechanic shops in the city

you are vEry happy that beeper decided to run out of gas a minute away from min mechanics

:-)

so

here’s the deal

you asked yoongi to teach you how to change a tire and he was understandably vEry confused because on a list of things that you would never want to do he thinks it’s pretty safe to assume that ‘change a tire’ is on that list

he told you that if you ever got a flat tire all you’d need to do is call him and he’d come to save the day

but you defended your decision saying that you thought it was good for you aND it was an important life skill

because it is!!!! kinda??

for someone who was very adamant on learning how to change a tire you don’t seem to be paying much attention to the actual changing of the tire

“remember? righty tighty, lefty loosie.” yoongi places his hands over yours and helps you turn the wrench

he has a hand placed on your waist as he hovers over you from behind and your mouth tugs up in a subtle smirk when you feel him push himself against your bum (it wasn’t on purpose though because he’s just trying to get that lug nut loose since it’s screwed in real tight)

“righty loosie lefty tighty i got it”

.,.,,.,.,he’s sure you’ll figure it out eventually

“i’ll be back in twenty minutes to check up on you!”

“wait but don’t you wanna stay here to watch-“

“twenty minutes!” you scowl as you watch yoongi head back to the office

what the heCK

your plan has been foiled

you didn’t actually want to have to change aLL the tires!!!!!!!

you nearly fall flat on your ass when you give give the next lug nut a firm yaNk

aLas nothing happens

you don’t know how you’re supposed to change four tires when you can barely handle four lug nuts

aH

maybe if you put some grease around them they’ll be easier to unscrew

wow

you’re a genius

“did you manage to change all the-“

oh

now yoongi knows why you like it when he has smudges of grease all over his hands and his face

you’re gloWing from the exertion of changing tires and your (his) shirt is riding up a bit because you tied it up into a little knot

and he didn’t notice this earlier but your butt looks reALLy good in those jeans

“i did it! i changed every single tire on my own!!!” you wipe your hands on the rag before giving one of the tires a firm kick “look at these bAd boys! c’mon c’mon give me another set of tires to change that was so FUN” you bounce up and down on excitedly

you reach up to wipe your cheek with the back of your hand

“you should take a break and join me in my office!” yoongi takes your hand and starts dragging you towards the office

ya he’s 110% going to go down on you in his office

“or-“ you pull back a little and make him stop walking “oR you can give me another set of tires to change and you can go back to your office?”

yoongi freezes

.,,.what?

“you… you want to change more tires?”

“mhm!!”

“but i just- you don’t wanna go into my office?”

“why would i want to go to your office? there are no tires for me to change there.”

“.,,.go talk to hoseok to see if he has any cars for you to-“

“okAY BYE”

o god

he’s created a monster

ah

finals season

a wonderful time where students are forced to coop themselves up and build fortresses out of their notes and textbooks

you’re not sure how you survived through your finals considering you had like fiVe of them

but the point is

you are DONE

you’re finally done!!!!! you’re FREE

a downside to finals (adding to the other many maNy downsides of finals) is that you forced yourself to stay away from yoongi (and u made him promise not to come see you even tho he really reaLLy wanted to come see you) because you didn’t want to be distracted and min yoongi is a big big distraction

which means you haven’t seen yoongi in nearly two weeks

you’ve texted him and you’ve called him but the phone calls are brief and the text messages are short because time is precious when it comes to exams!!!!

it might not seem like it but you are (surprisingly) vEry studious

yoongi called u a nerd when he face-timed you one night and you were wearing your thick reading glasses because your eyes were starting to give up on you from like 6 hours of staring at your laptop  

“heLLooOOoooo” yoongi perks up when he hears a very familiar voice

he pokes his head up over the raised hood of the car

ah

theRE you are

yoongi grins from ear to ear when he sees you bouncE excitedly into the shop like a little bunny

once you spot him your eyes liGHT UP

“yoongi!!!!!!!!! i missed u!!!!!”

“yeah, baby? you missed me?” yoongi tosses the rag over his shoulder “how much did you miss me?” he teases and wraps an arm around your waist before pulling you closer

“missed you a whole lot.” you breathe out and your eyes flicker down to the lollipop in his mouth

“how were your finals?”

“they were good…” you’re barely paying attention to what yoongi’s saying because all you can focus on is how slick n red yoongi’s lips are

and then

a lightbulb appears above your head

“that’s great! i’ll take you out for ice cream as soon as i-“

you yank the lollipop out of his mouth and yoongi squawks in surprise

and then you’re wrapping your lips around the bright red sweet in a manner that seems far from innocent “what flavour is this?” you hum around the lollipop

yoongi’s mouth goes dry and he swallows thickly “cherry, i-i think. cherry.”

you pull it out from your lips with a pop and stick it back into yoongi’s mouth “i like strawberry more.” you wiggle out of his grip before patting his cheek “alright, i’ll leave you alone now!”

“oh nO you don’t-“ yoongi’s hand darts out and he grabs onto your wrist before tugging you backwards “what makes you think you can get away with doing something like that so easily???”

“because you like me and ur not going to do anyThing about it” you giggle when his fingers dig into your sides playfully

yoongi pauses and raises a brow at you

“…is that a challenge?”

“you tell me” you shrug innocently

you know

you should really learn to keep your mouth shut sometimes

or maybe not

because you’re in a preTty nice situation right now

“you’ll stay nice n quiet for me, won’t you, doll?” yoongi hums against your neck

your skin burns with his touch as he slides his hand over the tops of your thighs before he’s nudging your knees apart so he can settle in comfortably

“no promises.” you giggle softly when you feel his hands sliding underneath your sundress

yoongi pauses all of a sudden and you’re abOUt to retract your statement but then-

“gimme a sec. i’ll be back.”

o

ok

you hear him leave the room and close the door behind him and you start swinging your legs back n forth

and then you stop

oh god

you hope he’s not like.,.,,. puniShing you or anything

he’s not mean enough to leave you high and dry like this right

.,,.,.,.right

yoongi shuts the door behind him as he comes back in

he’s hiding something behind his back

“whatcha got there?”

he takes your chin in between his pointer finger and his thumb and then he taps your bottom lip gently with his thumb “open.”

you part your lips slightly

yoongi slides a lollipop into your mouth and you immediately hum contently

peaches and cream!!!!!!!!

needless to say the lollipop actually does a pretty solid job at keeping you quiet

well

kinda

yoongi might have to pull out his spare bandana or something for extrA reinforcements but he’s kind of preoccupied right now

yoongi’s tattooed arm wraps around your middle and he has a hand gripping your hip as he presses you flush to him

“yoOngi- oh, god, yoongi-“ you gasp

he buries his face in your neck before starting to kiss and suck marks into your skin

“so fucking tight-“ yoongi grunts and you nEarly crunch down on the lollipop when he hits that golden spot

“mmpH-“ you suck exTra hard around the lollipop when yoongi picks up the pace

you can barely keep yourself up

you’re tempted to just floP down on the desk and let him have you like that

each snap of his hips against your lower back is more powerful than the next

ur literally going to break a tooth this lollipop thing was not a good idea

you yank it out of your mouth and it drops to the desk with a clatter

also it was making you drool big time and you don’t know if that’s a particularly sexy look or not

honestly you’re pretty sure yoongi doesn’t care whether you’re loud or not because yOU could care less about your volume

“f-fuck, yoongi,” your eyes roll to the back of your head when yoongi’s hand slithers in between your legs “oh, my god-“ your knuckles turn white as you grip the sides of his desk

“too loud, baby,” yoongi smirks as he nips at your shoulders gently

“s-sorry, ‘m sorry- nngh-“ you can feel his stomach muscles clenching against your back and that only spurs you on

“you gonna cum for me, hm?” you can hear the strain in his voice and you can’t help but feel a liTTle cocky now that you know you have just as much of an effect as he has on you

“c’mon, be a good girl n cum for me…” he rasps against the shell of your ear and that’s all it takes for you to completely loSe it

you immediately slump against the desk as your arms give out

you’re a whimpering mess as yoongi continues fucking you through your orgasm

his hand falls from in between your legs to grip your hip again and he presses soothing kisses along your back

“i wouldn’t suggest going in there if i were you.” namjoon warns as jimin approaches the door to the general office

“why not? and why.,.,. are you sitting out here instead of at the counter.,,.,.”  

“why do you think?”

“yoOngi- oh, god, yoongi-“

jimin gawks and yanks his hand away from the door handle as if it shOcked him “do- do they know we’re all still here???”

“yep.” namjoon hums nonchalantly and flips to the next page of his book “just give ‘em some time.”

“how muCH time??”

“i think half an hour will suffice.”

“by the sounds of it it seems like they’re going to want more than half an hour.” jimin mutters  

okay

you’re pretty sure jungkook was a serial killer in his past life

“sTOP IT yOU PSYCHOPATH” you shriek and make your fouRth round sprinting around the garage

jungkook cackles with glee behind you as he continues pointing the electric drill at you and pushing down on the trigger

you haven’t looked behind you but you can heAR the vRRRt vRt vRRRRTttTTT and you are scared out of your MIND

you made an offhand comment about how you feel like you should start working out and jungkook graciously offered to help you with some cardio

but you didn’t know what would mean him chasing you around the garage threatening to drill a hole into your head

and at first it was funny but now you genuinely think he wants to screw you (not like thAt)

“ooF-“ you stumble riGht into yoongi’s chest and you would’ve fallen flat on your ass had he not reached out and grabbed onto you

“what the hell are you doing??? that’s so dangerous!” yoongi snaps as jungkook finally catches up to you “if you’re going to waste your time by goofing off i’ll make you stay extra late to clean the washrooms - and that goes the same for you, miss ‘i need to finish my essay’.”

uM

why are you getting scolded??? you don’t even woRK here

maybe they’re all psychopaths and its just taken you a while to notice

“oh pLease like you weren’t goofing off earlier” jungkook grumbles and hands the drill over to yoongi

“what are you talking about?”

“don’t act like you weren’t fucking y/n into next week like two hours ago-“

yoongi gives him a warning look and-

vRT VRT

jungkook screeches

ok ya that was not enjoyable now he can see why you were so terrified

“yOoOooooonGGGGGiiiIiI-“

“y/n, i’m really, really busy right now” yoongi points out as he gestures to all the parts lying around him

“i know, but i need you to come here for a sec!!!!” he can SEE how big your pout is even though you’re halfway across the garage

“can’t you wait for like another 20 minutes-“

“pLeEEeEEeeeEEAAaaAaaASssSssEEEEe-“

yoongi lets out a huff and rolls his eyes playfully because he’s pretty sure you’re not going to cut it out if he doesn’t go over to you right now

hoseok snorts when he sees you pull out the puppy dog eyes

“you go take care of that, i’m sure we’ll survive without you for five minutes”

cLAnK

yoongi and hoseok both whIp their heads around to the source of the sound and jungkook’s standing there with a sheepish smile on his face

he just dropped a fuel filter it’s not a big deal

“alright, i’ll be right back.” yoongi tosses the rag over his shoulder before jogging over to you

“what’s up?”

you flip to the next page of the magazine without looking up at yoongi

“i’d like a lollipop please.”

//……r u kidding

yoongi’s eyes flicker to the office door “…you’re like 10 steps away from the office. i was halfway across the garage.”

you put the magazine down and pout up at him “please? strawberry, preferably.”

yoongi narrows his eyes at you and crosses his arms “why am i doing this for you again?”

“because you like me” you respond simply and shrug casually

“ah, i guess you got me there.” he leans down and you grin exciTedly because u always like kissing yoongi

you instinctively lean up and purse your lips

but you’re moRe than surprised when he doesn’t kiss you but hovers over your mouth instead

“you have feet. get one for yourself.” he murmurs lowly

he gives your top lip a gentle little kith before patting your cheek and heading back to the boys

wha-

okay noW you’re definitely getting your dad to sue min mechanics

[banashee]

Part 5 of my @badthingshappenbingo​ round 2

 With a bit of help

 Steve doesn’t run, but he very much wants to. His steps are wide and just quick enough so he can move as fast as humanly possible without making himself any more noticable. Walking quick won’t make him stand out in a busy street, but running would probably earn him some looks. It’s the last thing he wants right now.

 There is so much noise around here - chaotic traffic with honking cars and loud motors, people chatting, yelling, laughing. Somewhere, a toddler is crying. Phones are ringing left and right and people are shouting back into it.

 The noise on it’s own would be bad enough, but there are so many neon lights, and so many different smells - Steve wants to rip his own head off and bury it in cotton, so he doesn’t have to see or hear any more of it. It’s too much.

 Sometime, in the 70 years he was asleep in the ice, the world got really fucking loud. It’s close to unbearable, but how do you even begin to explain that?

 Luckily, it doesn’t take long for him to reach the SHIELD facility near Times Square. The street itself is one of his own personal nightmares. Steve isn’t sure if the reason for that is his less than pleasant awakening in the 21st century and the memories with this particular place, or if it is due to the fact that it is even brighter with flashing lights and video commercials here.  

 In any case, he is happy when he enters the sleek glass building. It’s busy, too, but not nearly as bad as outside.

 He smiles politely without really making eye contact at the people he crosses on the way back to his quarters. Once the door falls shut behind him, it’s like he deflates entirely. His hands are shaking, Steve notices, and he drops his bag onto the floor, next to his brand new, unused combat boots that they gave him. He didn’t have a mission yet - he’s itching for it, but at the same time isn’t sure what will be expected of him.

 With heavy limbs, feet dragging over the floor, Steve makes his way to the bed in the corner and collapses onto it.

 His ears are still ringing, his heart is still racing, and all he wants is just a moment of peace and quiet. Even the ticking of the clock sounds deafening to him, and he knows exactly what is happening in the rooms nearby.

 SHIELD barracks have paper thin walls, and his enchanted senses don’t help. In the room next to him, somebody is playing a video game. The gunshots and explosions are fake and Steve knows it, but he can’t help but flinch at the noise every time. It’s too much.

 Another room over, someone is having a heated but one sided argument - over the telephone, probably, if he had to guess.

 Across from him, it sounds like there are two people and - oh. Oh hell no. He really doesn’t want to listen to that, it would be incredibly rude.

 In an act of desperation, Steve crawls out of bed again and makes himself a pair of makeshift ear plugs out of toilet paper, then he buries his head under the pillow.

 He is shaking violently by now, wishing the world would be just a little bit calmer. It’s still so new, and he feels incredibly stupid, but he is absolutely overwhelmed with everything.

     There is a name for it, he learns later. Sensory Overload.

 That’s what he gets from typing “Why am I overwhelmed from noise, people and lights?” into the Google Thingy, and it makes a lot of sense. Unlucky for him, the only suggestion he can really find is to remove himself from the stressful environment, which is not always possible. Besides, he highly doubts that the articles he has been reading have taken a guy from the 40s who woke up in 2012 just a few weeks ago into account. His case is, admittedly, quite unique.

 “Quite Unique”, he knows, also means that getting help for The Thing is hard.

 Steve makes do with whatever he can, but it’s draining. Oftentimes, he’ll find himself collapsing into bed after a day around people, unable to stop shaking. The thing they gave him for alerts keeps beeping sometimes, even after hours, and he barely resists the urge to “accidentally” step on it one of these days.

 Then, aliens attack New York, and his life changes once again. He’s got a team now, even though their start was admittedly messy and his own attitude not the best.

 He has a chat with Stark, later, and they shake hands. Steve is not sure he’d call him or the others  “friends” at this point, but “friendly” for sure, and he trusts every single one of them. This has to be enough for now.

 Steve leaves the point of departure with a bag full of clothes on the back of his motorcycle and a mobile phone with a few numbers programmed into it. He isn’t sure if he’ll use it, but he figures it might be useful. Besides, they tell him that phone booths aren’t really a thing anymore, so better not rely on them.

 Steve intends to go see the country for a bit, drive wherever he sees fit at the moment.

 His plan to see the cities largely fails - much like New York, there is too much stress, too much noise. Steve can’t relax in any of those places, so he gives up and makes his way into much more rural areas.

 Back in the day, when he was with the army, he traveled the world, but he never managed to enjoy the sights, for obvious reasons. Now, he’s got all the time in the world to go watch the stars in a field where no light pollutes the air. He walks on a beach for the first time in ages, letting the feeling of water and sand around his feet wash over him.

 Luckily, he manages to grab a small, portable photo camera in a tourist shop. It’s a cheap, easy to use thing which he can deal with. There is a camera on his telephone, Stark said, but that doesn’t really seem necessary to him. He didn’t use the phone, but he keeps it charged - just in case.

 Two weeks after he left New York, his phone rings. The damn thing makes him jump and almost crash his motorcycle into a tree.

 Cursing, he pulls over to the side and fumbles it to answer. The sound of it ringing grinds his gears, and it takes every ounce of self control not to snap at whoever is at the other end.

 “Hello?”

 “Steve, hi. This is Natasha. Where are you right now?”

 “Oh, hey. I’m in Georgia right now - why? Am I needed back?”

 “We have a situation - sorry to interrupt your road trip. Can you please keep your phone on and wait at the nearest point accessible for the jet? We’ll pick you up on the way.”

 “Yes, of course. You will be able to find me?”

 “Already did.” it sounds like she’s smiling. “See you in about two hours, possibly sooner”

 When the jet sets down on an empty space of land, the ramp extends and Steve drives up there. The door closes behind him, and he is greeted by his team, already suited up. Thankfully, they brought his gear and his shield.

 The situation is messy and so is the fight they have to take part in, but all of them return to New York in one piece - small favors.

 When the jet settles down on the roof of the tower, it does so with little grace. A string of very colorful curses emerges from the cockpit, where Barton is ranting about shitty robots shooting at them and wheels that spontaneously fall off in the middle of landing, but other than that, they’re  fine.

 Internally, Steve has to agree with him, but externally, he keeps on a brave face. He refuses to lose it over this, although he very much would like to join in on banging his head against hard surfaces. Unfortunately, it’s just a bad look on a leader, so he remains calm.

 As soon as he steps out of the jet, the noises of the city drill into his brain, and it takes a lot of self control not to cringe at it. He’d gotten used to the peace and quiet of the countrysides, and even though he’d known it wouldn’t last forever, he already finds himself missing it.

 Thankfully, the inside of the tower is a lot more bearable. The walls must be thick and at least somewhat soundproof. It makes it easier to relax, and although the debrief takes a lot out of them all, they’re glad to be back.

 Before they shuffle off into different rooms to sleep off the last mission, Tony stops him on the way.

 “Oh hey, before you walk off - let me know if you’ll need anything specific, the apartments are in planning.”

 Steve blinks. “Apartments?”

 “Yeah. Here, for everyone. Didn’t I tell you?”

 “Uh, no?”

 “Oh. Here you go, then. We’ll move everyone in here and I need to know if you have any specific preferences. Layout, accommodations, furniture whatever. You can tell JARVIS, too, if you’d rather.”

 Before he can ask anything else or even say “thank you”, Tony has disappeared, leaving Steve standing there like he just got rolled over by a train. To be fair, this is the kinda feeling that most people have after talking to Tony when they’re not used to him, and Steve has been away for a while.

 He mulls over this on his way to a guest room. JARVIS is kind enough to explain the plans in more detail, which helps a lot because “Hey so, you’ll move in here for free, let me know if you want any stuff” is not what he expected to hear once he got back.

 Truth be told, it feels kind of weird and overwhelming, so he decides to shower, sleep and think about anything else later.

 As it turns out, the walls are soundproof in here - Steve falls asleep and wakes up in total silence, and he sighs in relief. Maybe, moving here wouldn’t be such a bad idea, especially since the tower is a lot more private and convenient than SHIELD barracks.

 When he makes his way to the kitchen for breakfast, there are voices and the clattering of plates, sizzling from the stove and gurgling off the coffee machine. His ears can pick up every single noise, but unlike the traffic on the streets or neighbours back at SHIELD, it’s not uncomfortable now that he is well rested and, most of all, got a break.

 Maybe, living here isn’t a bad idea. It’s an opportunity to get closer to the team, especially since everyone else will be around as well. So, Steve enters the kitchen to share breakfast with the other Avengers.

 He’ll figure out the rest.

*+~

Square 5/25: Sensory Overload

[jungnoir]

nothing fucks with my baby;

lee minhyuk | inspired by prompt 6. “Just drive, I don’t care about the destination, just drive.” you remember him. he’s a good person, always has been and always will be. right? zombie apocalypse!au, exes to lovers!au. | 2.7k words. | dark, angst, romance, mentions of blood and violence and zombie stuff.

a/n: so, tumblr deleted the requester’s second ask clarifying which prompt they wanted (the one I intended to reply to), but this is for the anon who requested 6 with minhyuk! I tried something a bit different this time with the ending (and weirdly enough, I’m kind of itching to continue this. it won’t be fluffy, that’s for sure). 

This new world was powerful. The stranger you’d meet tomorrow would become your executioner or your lifeline, your friend or your foe. You had been seasoned by the apocalypse, thinking yourself an expert on the souls of humans when there were so few humans left to know. You could tell by just the look in someone’s eye whether they’d rather put a bullet between your teeth or take one for you between their own, and very few of them fell into the category of the latter... except someone who might’ve done so for you once upon a time.

When you first saw him again, it was a rabid moment. You had just finished ravishing an abandoned shack for all the food it had to give when a few zombies found you by sound alone. You’d learned to be swift, to abandon what need be, if only to save your poor excuse of a life. It seemed that you hadn’t just alerted zombies, though.

The moment you’d thrown yourself out onto the dewy forest floor, ready to hightail it out of the dense forest once you made it out of the clearing, a horrible sound came from behind you. You had known it well because you’d been the cause of it many times before... a zombie’s existence had just come to an end, and it most definitely wasn’t due to anything other than another human being.

With your gained experience of this new world, you’d learned that the only thing worse than another zombie was another human. Zombies were pure in the way that they sought to infect and feed and nothing more. Humans... they were more complex. You would do yourself a great world of good if you could make it out of here without that human catching you, you thought. You didn’t need to try to make friends at this point, and you definitely didn’t need to be put in the situation of striking first. This new world was cruel, but you had yet to be broken down that much.

You had been ready to just run, but it had been so long. When was the last time you’d seen another person? Felt the warmth of another human being’s alongside your own? Maybe months; It had been nearly a year since the entire end of the world began. 

Of course you looked back.

You weren’t sure what you expected, but if the last time you’d seen a human being was months ago, the last time you’d seen someone your age was even longer. The door to the shack was thrown open from your escape, so you could see in the small living room someone towering over a slumped body of a zombie, something long and shining in their hand. It dripped with crimson to the wooden floorboards, and the forest was silent. Whoever this was had taken them all out with expert speed. You really needed to go.

That someone’s head was lowered as they wiped the shining thing (a sword, you now realize) on the door frame, getting most of the blood off fairly well. Then, they stepped over the threshold and stood out on the porch, staring at you. 

If you hadn’t known any better, the dead look in his eyes would have screamed “zombie” to you, but it was obvious by the color in his cheeks (though scattered in scars) and lack of unorthodox movement that he was very much still human. You’d also seen him before, enough to have his name spring forward to the front of your mind in an instant. However, he looked changed. This wasn’t the boy—man—you’d known before.

He must’ve recognized you too, because a switch seemed to flip in his brain and the defensive expression his face had been steeled into melts. Lips you’d known so intimately once before just barely quirk up into a smile, “Fancy seeing you here, (Y/N).”

You’re blanching, utterly lost on what to say to him. The last memory you had of Lee Minhyuk was when you were saying goodbye to him for what seemed like forever two years ago. Your relationship had seemed to have run its course and you had assumed that after college, you’d never have to see him again. It was a big city, and after the world went to shit, you’d had even lesser odds. Or so you’d thought.

He walks down the handful of steps to stand across from you, sheathing his sword in the leather scabbard at his side. You’d never seen Minhyuk hold a canister of mace, let alone a fucking sword. That instinct to determine if he was friend or foe bubbled back up again, though much more muddy. Everyone else was easy to read because you had no prior connections to them, but this... him...

“I guess if there was ever someone to steal my next raid, I’d have liked it to be you.” He says, crossing his arms across his chest with a weirdly nonchalant aura. “But my stomach says otherwise.”

At that moment, you seem to remember why you were here. Your backpack is almost overflowing with cans and supplies, all things that’d hopefully would get you to your next meal before you could collapse from malnourishment. “...your raid?”

Minhyuk sucks in a breath when you finally speak, like he had needed to hear your voice to confirm it was really you, “Yeah... I was planning to get the place on quieter terms. Imagine my surprise when I hear somebody gathering up an undead audience right outside. Imagine my even greater surprise upon realizing it was you... of all people.”

You would flush if you weren’t still reeling from the adrenaline rush of almost dying and seeing your ex-boyfriend all within the same minute. He doesn’t look totally the same, the changes prominent given the circumstances. His old wolf cut that you hated to love had now been trimmed military-style short in an attempt to look neat. Meanwhile, his once slender frame was now chiseling out with significant muscle. The only thing that really hadn’t changed about him was his eyes and the rather intense, unyielding look they were known for. They rarely gave anything away, which made sense for how unbothered he looked at the moment. They had been like that during your peaceful parting of ways two years ago too. How curious that you were both back here like that had never happened.

“I had no idea any one was in the area.” You say, slipping your backpack off one shoulder to unzip it some. You look at your wonderful haul and your heart aches at the thought that you’ll have to part with it. That meant you wouldn’t be given the luxury of loitering around the outskirts of town until you reached the next one. You’d have to go straight through, minding all the other scavengers and undead...

Minhyuk’s eyes light up some at this, the first emotion you’ve seen on his face in a while. He even accompanies it with a heart-stopping smile, “Means I’m getting good!” When he sees you fiddling with your bag, he stops smiling, “Hey,” his hand stops your own and you feel a shudder roll down your spine when his skin touches your own. It’s been so long, “don’t. You don’t have to. I’ll be in the next town before I know it. Maybe just spare me a can for the road or something.”

You blink at him, “But this was your raid.”

Minhyuk snorts, “Clearly not if you got in first. Seriously, keep your stash. I won’t lose my head over one lost raid.”

You could laugh at that. The irony that he could was evident. Instead, you hand him three cans and some bandages, “We’ll split it.”

Minhyuk stares at you again, expression unreadable. You don’t see a bag on him anywhere, and you start to wonder how he’s gotten this far without one if he’s still traveling. You doubted he’d camp close enough to a gaggle of zombies, so he had to be mobile. Before you can ask, he pushes the supplies back toward you, “Why don’t you come with me and we can share? Everything we find is ours.”

To join him... to join someone...

Of course you’d been asked to join a couple groups before on your journey, but your answer had always stayed starkly the same. You knew the danger of groups; what if you were to join one and they turned on you to save their own skin? At least out here on your own, every outcome was your doing alone. All those groups that had offered were full of people you could read, and each and every one of them had one priority higher than loyalty: to survive. 

But Minhyuk wasn’t like that... right? Never had been. He was always the first to sacrifice himself for the greater good, always the first to protect you in lieu of himself. Always, always, always. It had been a long while since you’d last seen each other and despite all that had been altered skin-deep, you didn’t get the feeling much had changed inside. 

He is as inviting as ever. When he points out his truck parked deep in the forest piled high with tools and supplies you could only dream of getting your hands on, you find that following him to the passenger seat is all too easy. It’s not the car he used to have, this one most likely stolen off someone when he had the chance judging by the paint job alone. It was a ghastly grey he wouldn’t have caught himself dead in. It didn’t fit his bursting personality.

Minhyuk pats the roof and pops open the door for you with ease, smiling gently at you as he ushers you to get in. “Watch your step, the bar is easy to slip on.” To emphasize his point, Minhyuk offers you a hand and braces the other at your back. If he could feel how rigid you became at his touch, he didn’t mention it.

Once you were in your seat, you dropped your hulking backpack to the floor and let out a sigh of relief. It was so easy to forget how long you’d been walking once you were actually sitting, let alone sitting somewhere you hadn’t had to check for remains or fecal matter.

Minhyuk shuts your door and jogs over to the backseat of the driver’s side, settling his sword on the floor. You take this moment to process what he has back there: the entire backseat is covered with different mismatched clothing and bags, some with things like bars of soap and toothpaste, others with nonperishables, and some full of such an array of weapons that you couldn’t possibly categorize them all. How had he gotten his hands on so much just on his own...?

When Minhyuk hops into the driver’s seat, he can see the clear question on your face. Perhaps you might’ve been too easy to read, or perhaps he was still so tuned into you like the old days. “Alright there?”

You swallow, clutching your backpack between your legs a little tighter. You’re reminded of your measly close-combat knives and clear your throat in an attempt to save face, “Yeah, sorry. The shock of this is just... erm... getting to me.”

“Hey, look at me,” Minhyuk is practically begging as you avoid his eyes, trying to look anywhere but at him. This is all so much and so soon. You hadn’t even the slightest thought that he might still be alive, let alone that he’d ever find you, and you couldn’t even go through the awkward post-breakup motions like you should have been able to because of this clusterfuck of a dystopia you lived in now, “seriously, look at me.”

What a gentle hand he still had, even after all the carnage he’d been through.

The touch-starved part of you leaves you shuddering at the way he arrests your chin between the pads of his fingers, warm and firm and kind. Minhyuk slowly moves your head until you’re facing him.

There were times when he’d kissed you this way. Oh, how you’d longed for someone to touch you the way he had just once more without the need to up and run away before they stabbed you in the back- “Well... still stunning as ever.”

Your eyes widen, “Huh?”

Minhyuk rolls his head to the side and laughs softly, brushing the hand on your chin along your skin until he’s dragging it back to himself, and mindlessly, you move your head to follow minutely. A little blaze in his eyes says more than he does, “Where would you like to go?”

“I thought you were headed to the next town.” Blinking, you look about you, “I’m just stumbling from place to place. I’ve got nowhere to go.”

“No one’s looking for you, either?” He questions, resting his chin on his fist. You shake your head immediately... to his silent delight.

“I’ve been traveling solo since the beginning and... nobody that would be looking for me is still alive, anyway.” You’d seen that much in the bodies of your family and friends in the early days, enough to mourn for a lifetime.

His tongue darts over his lips as he takes you in. Something like disbelief shines in the way he meets your eyes once more, “I’m awfully lucky to have found you again.”

He was lucky to have found you? You could practically cry from joy; not only was he someone you knew, trusted even, he was eons more skilled in this apocalypse than you. Those video games he loved so much had surely paid off for him in the end, it seemed.

Yet, here he was, watching you like you’d been what he needed to survive all along.

Instead of saying all that, you settle for your first genuine smile since all this had began. You don’t know how appealing it is behind cracked lips and bad breath, courtesy of the disrespect apocalypses have toward basic human hygiene, but Minhyuk seemed pretty charmed. With one wrist thrown over the steering wheel and his free hand starting the car, he tears his eyes away and soon enough, you’re moving. The jolt of the car is a welcome change to what you’d become used to out here. Why, you could just sink into your seat and doze off, even. Perhaps...

You rest your head tentatively against the glass of the passenger side window, watching the trees and dead bodies go by, calm despite it all. You know that the noise of the truck will draw out any other creepers hanging in the deep brush, but you know they’d never be fast enough to catch you. You can trust this. Him.

Slowly, you doze. It consumes you like a warmth and you can’t be assed to fight it. Minhyuk wouldn’t mind, you were mostly sure. Besides, he would wake you if he needed you. The next town wouldn’t be for miles.

There’s a slight twitch in Minhyuk’s hand as he watches you from his peripheral. It’d been so long since he’d last been this close with someone who wasn’t trying to eat him or kill him for his shit (intentions that were unsettlingly interchangeable between humans and zombies), and it’s you, too. 

If he’d had any doubt that he was still madly into you all these years later, it had whipped up in a smoke the moment he’d seen you face to face. The tunnel vision he acquired whenever he dove his sword into flesh dissipated so quickly and he was grateful. He did not fathom in his mind that he’d need to be very cautious of who and what he struck down any longer, but he was glad he had been. You were strong—of course you were—and you made it back to him. How fateful.

You were the only person left alive who knew the old him, let alone the only person who had no clue what brand of cruel he had become. If you stayed with him long enough, you would. 

All Minhyuk could pray for was that you’d understand... he was no longer a man who could feel remorse.

[chiclet-go-boom]

point of impact 8: and never

...continuation for poi7:always  more quarantine goodness for @linguini17!

-----------------

If it wasn’t for the presence of the fireplace, she would have called the room a prison cell. Well, that and that the door wasn’t actually a door at all, or even a set of decent bars. Where a barrier would no doubt have hung at some point is now just an empty gap. A scavenged tapestry has been strung up, allowing her some privacy.

Still, sometimes it doesn’t matter what the details are. Prison cell or storage room or awkwardly shaped closet, it’s still much too small.

The room she’s been given is barely three paces from wall to wall, deep in the heart of Suledin Keep with no windows, no ornamentation and comprised entirely of pale gray stone without any redeeming features. She knows she is tall but even still it doesn’t seem right that her hair nearly brushes the ceiling. It’s an uncomfortable feeling and she tells herself over and over again not to hunch. It’s not as if she is magically going to grow three more inches and actually bump her head. But cramped as it is, it does have a small inset alcove that vents to the outside through some miracle of ancient engineering and the fire that has been built there does its work well each night, warming the space to the edge of uncomfortable. The raised stone shelf behind her that runs the length of one wall has no discernable purpose but now at least holds a deeply piled pallet for sleeping. There are no shortage of blankets in the keep at least. If the walls are blank and claustrophobic, well, she has certainly dealt with worse before.

Many times worse, she reminds herself. Still, it does somewhat feel as if she is occupying a mausoleum.

Cassandra is too old to let the comparison bother her, she is long past her girlhood where the Mortalitasi of her youth were frightening figures of power and mystery. And she is pretty sure if she keeps repeating that, eventually she’ll come to believe it. She sighs, sitting on the edge of the makeshift bed. It seems a petty thing to ask for a different room while they are here, recovering from their last… well, adventure is the wrong word, but march isn’t correct either, neither are they precisely advancing anywhere. Recovering from their latest trials, perhaps. That is close enough.

Suledin itself is only recently liberated and while the corps of Inquisition workers that have descended upon it have done themselves proud, there is still much of the place that is fit only for birds and weather. And asking for a room that faces outside when yet another blizzard could blow up out of nowhere would be the height of hubris.

No, it’s better that she remain where assigned. There is a bed and warmth and truly, she needs no more than that. They will only be here a few more days, she is sure. She can handle too-short ceilings for that long without complaint.

Cassandra leans down and starts to root in her pack for her carefully wrapped book, her singular vice. She will read until she is either too tired to make out the words or the fire dies enough to achieve the same end.

There is a odd sound outside in the passageway. It repeats again after a moment and she realises it is a knock, or a close approximation of one as someone taps something metal on the stonework. She frowns, halting her search. “Seeker? Can I come in?” Oh.

Varric. Of course it would be Varric.

Out of nowhere she is pricklingly aware that she is wearing things that she intended to sleep in; her oldest breeches, soft and thin and held to her hips by frayed leather ties. The rough undyed cotton of her shirt falls to her thighs, more than acceptable even if loose laced and wide at her throat. She has worn less in front of company before and thought nothing of it, yet at the mere sound of his voice outside she feels horribly exposed.

She needs a sword and breastplate, neither of which are here. At least her hair is still up and braided. Being caught completely unpinned would have been unconscionable.

“Seeker?”

“Varric,” she replies dryly. She casts around desperately but her mind is blank. She stands, not willing to be sitting for some reason and squares her chin. “Come in.” His hand brushes aside the heavy canvas covering the opening and Varric ducks inside.

His face is not a stranger to her and she should not feel this defensive. Yet, she does. Without willing it, her arms cross over her chest. The rough texture of her shirt rubs against her breasts and she regrets having removed her breastband for comfort. Let him think her annoyed, it is better that than anything else.

“What is it, dwarf?” “What, can’t I come visit my favorite Seeker?” “I am the only Seeker you know, Varric. Why are you here?” He’s been drinking, at least a little. His eyes are just that little bit too bright, his skin just that little bit too flushed. Somewhere along the way she has started to see the small things that belong to him and the things that are imposed from the outside. His voice is deeper than usual and he is already taking up too much room for all that he hasn’t taken but a single step inside. Perhaps he too thought her room would be bigger. She watches the play of muscle move along his jaw as his eyes flicker over the sleeping area. He appears to be finding and discarding things to say and she watches all of them move across his mobile face. Once he would have been unreadable to her and she is uncomfortably aware that somewhere that has changed. Does he see into her better as well? It’s a disturbing feeling.

“Do you really have to ask?”

“With you, yes.” Training keeps her voice and face impassive. For the first time tonight she is grateful for her height, that she towers over him in her bare feet as he stands before her. It is an illusion and they are both aware of it but still, it helps. The fact that the firelight is doing wonderful things to the color of his hair is not something that is worthy of her attention.

“Alright, we’ll just get down to it then. You didn’t tell her Inquisitorialness.” “No. I did not.” His broad face tilts and his voice remains mild. “Mind if I ask why?” Somewhere she knows she had hoped they could simply avoid this conversation. But trust Varric to push when he was least wanted, when she still hasn’t figured out what she intends to do. She opts for a blunt truth.

“You are needed here, now more than before. I am sure that you will not… that it will not happen again, now that you are… aware. Of the potential.” He snorts softly.

“So you didn’t tell her so she wouldn’t send me back.”

“Yes.”

His eyes narrow and then suddenly Varric leans a shoulder against the wall, crossing his own arms. Instead of looking defensive, he just claims space, lounging easily. She frowns at him but he just smiles broader like he knows something she doesn’t. Of all the things he does, she likes that one the least.

“Not good enough, Seeker. I’ll buy that at least halfway but that’s not the only reason.” She throws up her hands in agitation. “What are you looking for, Varric? Did you want me to tell her?”

“It’s not a bad idea. I mean, when your forward scout goes crazy and tries to join the other side of the war, don’t you think that’s something you maybe ought to mention at some point?” “You were not…” she protests hotly before she catches the expression in his eyes, at odds with the rest of his face. She puts a hand on the back of her neck and stares at the too-close ceiling for a long count. “You were not yourself,” she finishes more calmly. “That’s the definition of crazy, Seeker.” “You were… not yourself. The lyrium…” For a heartbeat she feels again the snow sliding under her knees, everything washed red. Blood on his face, on his hands, sparking in his eyes. The terror as she’d realized she was going to lose because it wasn't even a fight. She shoves it down. “You will not make that mistake again.” He’s silent for long enough that her eyes come back to him. The corner of his mouth twitches. “Sure about that?” “Varric?”

“No, Seeker. You’re right, I won’t make that mistake again. If the red stuff is going to get me again, it’s going to be because somebody held me down and shoved it down my throat. I’ll throw Andraste herself on the pyre again before I let it get to me a second time.”

She shifts, suddenly unsure what to make of the tone. “You got too close and you were weakened. I should have protected you better. It is as much my fault as yours.” He laughs at that and shoves himself away from the wall without warning. “Protect me? Excuse me, Seeker, but didn’t we already figure out that I’m stronger than you?” He takes an aggressive step forward and she can’t help it, can’t help it at all, stepping back to keep the distance between them. The back of her knees bump against the bed she’d half forgotten about and she sits abruptly.

She glares at him, flustered. The expression on his face has twisted, something knowing curling the corner of his mouth in a way she cannot stand.

“Do not look like that,” she says coldly. “You’re afraid of me now.” “I am not.” “You are. You won’t let me anywhere near you.” “I am not afraid of you, Varric. There are many people who are stronger than I am, it is not a contest.” “And how many of those people have nearly broken your arm just by grabbing you?”

He takes another deliberate step forward. The room is much, much too small to have him in it, the bulk of his body half cutting off the light from the fire now. He’s outlined in light, bright and gold and red, the color of corrupted lyrium but also his color, always how she thinks of him. Red for passion, for anger, for blood; red for everything worth having. She would stand again if she could but she can’t and maybe it wouldn’t help anyways.

But she still puts a hand up to ward him off. She misjudges and her fingertips brush his chest, bump against the gold chain at his throat.

He stops then, still as stone. She watches his throat move and there is no way she can interpret the expression on his face, hooded and dark.

“Okay, so you’re not afraid.”  His voice is rough gravel. “Show me your arm, Seeker.”

“What?” He’s patient as if understanding her confusion, his voice gentling. “Show me your arm.”

“I don’t understand.”

“You don’t have to, Seeker. Shit, I don’t understand myself half the time but I need you... I need you to show me what I did. I have to see.”

Is she afraid of him? She doesn’t know. Something has changed between them, yes, and it keeps changing and she is no longer sure of what she should do, what she should say. It was not his fault, not truly. And yet, it was.

But this is Varric here, now and if she has no hope of understanding anything else, she understands the pain in his eyes. If she is afraid, she will not let it rule her.

Cassandra watches herself press her palm against his chest with deliberate pressure, the warmth of his skin beating under her fingers. He is wonderful to the touch and she stands, suddenly calm. Varric takes a step back at that and the room expands just a little bit so that it’s easier to breathe.

“Very well.”

She could just remove her shirt and for a heartbeat, she actually considers it. The possibilities suddenly curling through the air like smoke are confusing and she wonders what he would do if she was so bold. Anything at all? Would he want to put his hand on her too? She reaches instead for the laces at her throat, widening the gap of the collar. Her night shirt is meant for comfort and it is simple enough slip her shoulder through the newly created space, sliding the loosened material down to her elbow. She pulls her arm free of the sleeve with effort, wincing at the strain on the healing flesh.

“Maker’s balls.”

Varric has stopped breathing. She doesn’t need to look herself to know what he’s seeing. The yellow fingers touch as high as her collarbone now, pool in the cup of her shoulder, sweetly outlined in blue as if painstakingly painted. Her bicep is still a weltered glory of darker color where the pressure had been longest and deepest.

The dwarf shifts on his feet, gaze locked in sudden agony. “Shit. I knew... Maker lose me on the Deep Roads. I knew when I saw you struggling with your shield.” “I have had worse in training.”

He reaches out with such a blank look on his face that she knows he’s barely aware of anything else.

“The hell you have.”

His hand wraps slowly around her arm, gentle as anything she has ever felt. She knows he’s matching himself precisely, fingertip by fingertip. She can feel it, hot little points of contact. “Varric.” He won’t look at her. “Varric,” she insists. “I have had worse in training. I would not lie.” “Fine, if you say so. But I bet nobody’s tried to feed you to red lyrium before while doing it. That was all me.” “Stop wallowing, dwarf.” She pitches her voice curt and sharp.

Varric growls at that, curling his lip, and something in it catches the breath in her throat. She makes an involuntary sound and his eyes fly to her face.

“You did that then, too,” she babbles. “Growled. It was frightening.” “So you are afraid.” “Yes. I mean, no. Varric, no. I am not afraid of… Maker, this is impossible. You snarled at me, at the last, just like that, when I tried to pull you away. There was nothing in your eyes that I knew anymore and you growled at me and yes, I could not break away and yes, I was frightened. Anyone would have been. But then you just... stopped. And you were... you again.”

She is sure he won’t answer the unspoken question. She can see it closing over his face, the shrug he will give, the words he will say that might, in some manner, even be true but will not be truth. She braces for it.

He hesitates though. Then his hand reaches up and he strokes her damaged arm, shoulder to wrist in a slow, unmistakable caress.

“You were crying.” “I… what?” “You were crying, Seeker.”

“I was crying.” “Real tears, Seeker, honest and truly. And you know what I was thinking? If you can even call it thought?” She shakes her head. His fingers encircle her wrist in a loose grip, nearly holding her hand. His hand is warm and it spreads through her body. “That if I could only get you to hear it like I could hear it, you wouldn’t be afraid anymore. I didn’t want you to be afraid.  I just wanted you to be with me. Hear it with me. But you were crying and I just… you were crying because I was hurting you and I just. I just...”

Varric’s face spasms and he turns so that all she can see for a moment is his profile. His gaze drops and she is left to stare at the top of his head even as he turns her palm up. She feels his thumb moving slow across the sensitive flesh of her wrist. She has no memory if he’s ever touched her like this before, it feels so achingly fragile.

“You were crying, that’s all.”

She sits down because she really doesn’t think she can stand anymore.

He shrugs then and when his face lifts, his expression is mocking as it often is, a smile hovering over his lips. “I’ve done a lot of really shitty things in my life, Seeker, but hurting you because I have poor impulse control? Pretty much tops the list.” “You broke out of lyrium thrall because I cried.” It seems unbelievable. “Yeah, well. If you tell the Herald, which you should, let’s leave that part out, okay? It can be our little secret.” His lips move into a larger smile and she can see the story settling over his face, his body starting to shift away. “Give me a bit and I’ll think of something better.” “Varric.”

“Yes, Seeker?” She takes a deep breath. “I did not tell the Inquisitor because she would have sent you back to Skyhold. For your own good.” “You said that.” “She would have sent you away. I didn’t… I don’t want that. It is selfish, I know, do not think I am not aware of it, but I would worry if you were not… if you were not here. I promise, Varric, I will protect you better, now that I am aware of how strongly it calls to you.”

It’s nothing more than the truth but for some reason it’s impossible to look at him directly. She keeps her gaze on his necklace instead. His fingers are still light on her wrist and she wonders if he even realises he’s still holding her there. She doesn’t want to point it out in case he stops. She watches him swallow and when he speaks, his voice is slow. “So. You’re saying you want me with you too.” She opens her mouth to disagree, it’s not like he is implying. It’s simply important that she not fail in her duty, not now when she knows how vulnerable he is. Anything could happen if she can’t watch over him. He would spend all his time in the tavern, drinking and blaming himself and that would not be right. It really is as much her fault as anything. She should have known, reacted better and faster. “Don’t, Seeker.” He hasn’t moved but somehow the space between them has closed, she’s not sure how. She is conscious of the breadth of his shoulders, the warmth of his skin radiating so close to hers. His hand moves finally, stroking back up her exposed arm, a tickle of fingertips alone. She shivers and cannot disguise it. “I’ll tell you another secret though, just for you and me.” “What?” Even to her own ears, her voice sounds wrong, too thin, too light.

“I didn’t want you to be afraid. But mostly? I wanted you with me. I wasn’t going anywhere without you. Not even into madness apparently.” His hand curls over the top of her shoulder, warm and strong. His fingers slide over bare skin to the back of her neck, tangling in the short curls there and at that she has to look up. His face is so close to hers. “Messed up, I know.” “Varric.” “That’s my name.” The smile is deprecating but his eyes are somewhere else and she knows somewhere that once upon a time she would have heard the words and seen nothing else.

“Why do you never call me by mine?”

He shakes his head then. “No. No, that’s still my secret.” His thumb traces the soft skin under her ear and for one heart stopping moment, she wonders if he’s going to kiss her. What she will do about it. If she will do anything at all. Does she want him to? His fingers are paralyzing, that’s all she knows.

“That is unfair, dwarf.”

“Life’s like that.” She feels more than sees the deep tremor that runs through his body and then his hand smoothly drops away, breaking contact. She takes a deep breath, then another, unsure of when she’d stopped. “Tell the Inquisitor, Seeker. I want to finish this as much as you do, but sometimes it really doesn’t matter what I want."

He’s ducked out the not-exactly-a-door before she can think to ask what she’s supposed to tell, exactly, and what precisely it is that he wants to finish.

[myhauntedsalem]

13 True Horror Stories from the Psychiatric Ward that Will Give You the Creeps

Death, illness and tragedy have long been part of the history of insane asylums, and for as long as they have existed, so too have the scary stories associated with them. From haunted hospitals to sadistic doctors and nurses, psychiatric wards have been the inspiration for many of our favorite horror movies and books. Yet, the true stories told by the psych ward workers below far surpass any horrors that we might have seen at the cinema or read in a book.

Without further ado, here are thirteen of some of the creepiest psych ward stories on the internet that have been shared by health care professionals.

1. HOLDING HER OWN EYES

My mom told me this story from her time at a neuropsychiatric ward while she was in grad school. She was making her routine room checks and happened upon the most horrific scene I’ve ever heard.

This was during the night shift, and generally, all the patients’ bedroom doors should be closed. So my mom turned a corner and noticed an open door. She saw a staff member’s legs on the floor, halfway out the doorway.

When she looked into the room, she saw the patient, a woman with a severe postpartum psychiatric disorder, who had just gouged both of her own eyes out with her bare hands. She was sitting cross-legged on the floor, holding her eyes in her hands.

The first staff member to witness the scene, who was now lying face down on the floor, had a heart attack when he first witnessed the woman while he was making his rounds.

My mom screamed for help and frantically tried to perform CPR on the staff member. All the while, the woman just sat rather calmly, holding her own eyes.

2. THE SAW

I work as a psychotherapist in a hospital system. My definition of creepy is probably quite a bit different from other medical professionals.

The one that got to me the most was a patient who came to us after attempting suicide by sawing both his arms off at the forearm with a table saw. His arms were reattached, fairly successfully too, with only limited impairments in mobility. All I could think was how bad it would have to be to live in his head that sawing his arms off seemed better than that.

He has since completed suicide.

3. JANE?

We had a young lady in our custody with quite a few issues. We’ll call her Jane. Jane’s first night at our facility staff doing a bed check found Jane in a puddle of blood. Turns out Jane had been slicing the skin around her shin with her finger nails and was pulling her skin up her leg, essentially de-gloving her calf.

Jane also had a ritual she performed every night before bed. While in her room she would run between walls in her room touching them in a crucifix pattern. After doing this for a few hours she would sit on her bed and go to sleep. This particular night Jane was frantic in her pace, practically running between walls. Our night staff observed the entire interaction and reported Jane screaming late into the night. When the staff went to check on Jane she reported Jane standing in the doorway smiling. The staff asked what was wrong and Jane replied, “what makes you think you are speaking to Jane?”

4. THE VAMPIRE

My mom worked in mental institutions in her younger years (and actually worked at a large, well-known asylum before it was shut down.)

There was one woman there that thought she was a vampire of sorts. She was only allowed out one hour a day, and they had to use safety precautions. She had already attacked and killed at least one hospital worker before these were enacted.

When my Mom asked about her, it was revealed that she had killed at least two of her children, wounded another as well as her husband because she had some sort of physical condition called Porphyria, which apparently made her crave blood.

By the time that they discovered there was something physically wrong with her, she already had lost her mind from guilt and grief.

5. THE SPITTER

I’m not a psychologist but my friend is. She told me about a patient of hers who was HIV positive and a paranoid schizophrenic. He thought that the nurses who worked at the hospital he was in were trying to kill him, so he would frequently bite his tongue, and spit HIV positive blood into their faces/mouths. When they had to come into contact with him, they were required to wear full masks and gloves.

6. THE ONLY ONE

I once knew a woman who had spent part of her residency at a psychiatric hospital for people with severe mental conditions. Apparently, the grounds had a lovely, enclosed greenhouse. One day, one of their schizophrenic patients was sitting on a bench, smoking a cigarette, as a heron frantically flew around. It had found its way in and, not being able to escape, it was smashing into the large panes of glass. The man just sat there watching.

Finally, my counselor asked him if the bird was bothering him and he kind of sighed and said, “Thank god, I thought I was the only one seeing that.”

7. FAMILY PHOTOGRAPHS

My sister is the director of a psychiatric hospital. There was recently a lady there who would cut her arms, legs and torso open and place photographs of her family under her skin.

8. UNDER THE BED

Once, a fellow female patient told me she found writings under her bed. They were just old, small wooden bed frames with hard mattresses that would make all kinds of noises when you rolled over, but I still wondered what exactly she was doing lying under her bed to find these writings.

When she first told me, I thought it was a joke. But sure enough, one day during group we managed to sneak away, and she showed me. Indeed, there were stories written under her bed. After that, we had everyone check under their own beds, and there was more writing under every single bed.

They were stories of patients who had stayed here before, or ways they were planning on killing themselves, or who the good and bad nurses were. It creeped me out.

9. TIME OF DEATH

Well, my mother was a nurse that specialized in geriatrics, and she worked for several hospice hospitals for many years. She often described situations at her work with several of the patients. She would say that each person tends to have a very similar “checklist” that they follow right before death. This checklist often ended in a very similar way. They would get caught talking to someone that wasn’t there. When asked who they (otherwise lucid people) were talking to, they would describe an individual who was already dead. When asked what they were talking about, they would say that their relative wanted to know if they were ready to move on. A pretty common response would be, “Yeah, he/she said that she will take me tomorrow at 3:00.” Well, it would often happen that they would die at the exact time their relatives quoted.

10. THE TEST SUBJECT

I had an hour-long conversion with a delusional guy who was confined to a mental health facility, and who was probably smarter than I am. Lots of these folks believe that somebody – often the CIA – is either beaming thoughts into their heads, or has implanted a microchip in their brains for this purpose. This guy was offering a very thoughtful argument as to why such claims should not be so quickly dismissed.

“It’s precisely because such delusions are so common that mental patients make the best test subjects,” he said. There he was, confined and protected, constantly observed, his health and behavior documented, and there is zero chance that anyone would ever take his concerns seriously. How else would you test and improve such technology? Does the government not have a strong motivation and a plausible ability to create such a device?

“You can see I’m not irrational,” the man said. “I’m just straight-up telling you that they are doing this to me. I know just how unbelievable it sounds, and yet, here I am.”

11. THE BOY WHO LOVED KNIVES

As a tech in psych years ago, there was a 7-year-old kid sent to the floor because the mom didn’t know what to do with him. Sadly, common thing to happen, even if the kids don’t have psych issues. Anyway, the mom was shaking and crying, and they had to take the kid into another room. She was genuinely afraid of her own son. She had suspected something was wrong when she kept finding mutilated animals in the backyard, but never heard or saw coyotes or anything around. The neighbors smaller pets started disappearing. The boy had an obsession with knives, hiding them around the house. Denying anything when the mom confronted him. Then when the two started getting into arguments, he would get really violent and hit her, push her down and kick her, threaten to kill her. On multiple occasions she woke up in the middle of the night with him standing beside her bed, staring her in the face. She put extra locks on her bedroom door to feel safe while she slept. The last straw was when she lifted up his mattress and found 50+ knives of all shapes and sizes under there. So she brought him to us.

I remember talking to him, treating him like he was just any other kid that came through. He seemed remarkably normal, until you spoke directly to him. He had this way of looking right through you, or maybe like he didn’t see you at all while you were speaking.

He would respond like a robot, like he was just saying words because that’s what we wanted to hear. And he would always put on this creepy, dead-looking smile. Like all mouth and no eye involvement in the smile. Especially when he would get away with something, like taking another kid’s markers and they couldn’t figure it out. Still gives me chills laying here thinking about him.

I believe I met a 7-year-old psychopath.

12. THE NEW MOM

I was a pharmacy technician at a hospital with a psych ward for some time. We would have to go around with a cart and dispense the patients’ medications, and being a 5’2″ girl, a security guard or male nurse would accompany me, just as a precaution. I never had any real issues other than the occasional death grip onto my arm or manic outbursts, but there was one boy who was entirely different.

His chart said he was nine and he had pale skin, dark hair, and huge bright, green eyes. He always greeted me in the most polite way, asked how I was doing, and always found something different to compliment me on every time. He was extremely well-spoken and mature for his age, so I began looking forward to seeing him, as normal small talk is definitely cherished in that setting. If he saw me outside of his room in the halls, he made sure to say hello and always called me “Miss Jones” or “ma’am.”

One day, a couple of our female nurses saw me pause to chat with him in the hallway, and waved me over to ask if I was out of my mind. Apparently, when he was in kindergarten, he grew an intense attachment to his young female teacher.

This escalated to the point of him calling her “Mom” and leaving notes for her about how he wished he were her son. He had a normal home-life with both parents, and the teacher tried to explain to him that she couldn’t be his mom because that would hurt his real mother’s feelings, and that she already had that job covered.

So, he went home and, killed his own mother in her sleep by cutting her throat, so his teacher could be his mom. The female staff had a general rule of not interacting with him excessively to prevent any kind of attachment from forming.

13. BUGS

Nothing I can say can possibly describe the year I worked in Psychiatric Intensive Care. Creepy isn’t the thing that comes to mind when I think back on it…more heartbreaking and horrifying. But creepiness was a part of it. Especially evening and night shifts, naturally.

There is always something disturbing about watching someone while they hallucinate. You can tell it is 100% real to them, and something about that makes you believe it, on some level. A lot of stories end with, “and of course, I had to look over my shoulder to make sure”. You see the emotions it brings out.

There was a woman that came in and sat down across the table from me for her admission interview. She had bandages all over her arms and scotch tape over her mouth and ears. She looked very uncomfortable and wouldn’t really sit still. When the nurse would ask her a question, she would peel the corner of the tape back and answer, then stick the tape back on really fast.

We eventually found out that she saw and felt bugs crawling all over her, and they were trying to get inside her body. The tape was to keep the bugs out. The bandages were because some bugs got in and she had to dig them out. She couldn’t sit still because she felt the bugs all over her even while we sat and talked. The worst part was, she had some idea that it was her mind playing tricks on her. Can you imagine going through your life, feeling like someone is continuously dumping buckets of cockroaches on your head, feeling like they’re all over you and getting inside of you to the point that you’re digging chunks out of your flesh in a panic, all while knowing intellectually that none of it is real?

[pointedly-foolish]

[ í'm вαd вєhαvíσur вut í dσ ít ín thє вєѕt wαч ]

word count: 6320

pairing: connor | rk800/gender-neutral!reader

genre: fluff; kinda crack treated seriously

summary: « as a wise man once said: “you haven’t lived until you’ve committed at least one blue collar crime” – wh-i… literally no one said that! he sputtered in bewilderment. – i just did… you said as you stomped on your cigarette. or are you calling me unwise? – yes! that’s exactly what i’m calling you! he exclaimed. you chuckled. – oh come on… live a little. it’s not even that bad. you consoled. »

the android before you was conflicted. you could tell from his yellow led, which kept flickering and spinning. the guy was seriously debating this. he’s intrigued. he wants to try it out, you just have to egg him on.

« i won’t tell if you don’t? you offered. »

you’re sure you had a harder time persuading others compared to this detective model android...

a/n: the time has come. i have inspiration. i have motivation. i managed to unblock myself. i think it’s because of stress? i couldn’t write because of stress lmfao or maybe it’s cuz of that oc x canon snippet i did idk.

both.

and uh, the story went out of hand and evolved by itself.

ping. a small popup in the top right corner of his hud caught his attention as he rearranged his folders, neatly putting them in his bag.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

[ 1 ᴺᴱᵂ ᴹᴱˢˢᴬᴳᴱ: Love ]

> hey im outside waiting for u xx Noted. <

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

he quickly replied and picked up the pace, securing his beanie and wrapping his scarf. grabbing his bag, he excused himself: « see you tomorrow, lieutenant. – wait! connor! the younger man stopped in his tracks, and turned to face the lieutenant. – just… you know how i feel about [ y/n ]... the android patiently waited for him to elaborate. – if you don’t feel comfortable doing what they want you to do, just... know that you don’t have to. he instructed. and if they force you, or hu— – hank. he gently interrupted. the older man stopped his tirade, a mix of emotions on his face: surprise. concern. annoyance. mostly concern. – hank, he restarted. i’ll be fine. he reassured him. i know you don’t trust them, and i can’t force you to, but have a little faith. “in me” in that last sentence unspoken. – i… fuck, i know… but- he grumbled. just, if you don’t feel safe, call me. ok? – of course. he answered. »

before stepping out of the building, the android looked back at his father figure, « take care, see you in the morning. », he did a small wave and threw his best pacifying smile. acute scans heard the older man’s resigned sigh and the twinkle of lingering concern in his features.

once out of the building, his sensors noted the drastic drop in temperature, the warmth and ambient brightness of within was replaced by the cold and windy dullness. it was a rather chilly night, clocking in at 14 degrees celsius, wind blowing rather harshly. wrapping his coat tighter around himself, he heads for where you normally park: take a right from the precinct, a few blocks away. when he reached you, you were leaning on your motorbike, preoccupied with something on your phone, and only noticing the android through his footsteps. looking up, you smirked, and stuffed your mobile into your pocket: « glad to see that they freed you, you said, flicking a cigarette butt away. – yes… i hope i didn’t make you wait too long? he greeted back. – nah, it’s fine. »

you chucked the spare helmet you brought towards him—which he caught effortlessly—« come on, i wanna show you something. »

the ride to the destination was uneventful: it was the usual fare. you sped through the traffic, weaving through the different vehicles at a speed connor was sure was much over the speed limit (he has since given up on informing you as you seemed to ignore him, not keen on slowing down anytime soon).

this location seemed to be some distance outside of the city, as the street grew narrower and darker. the sounds of other vehicles no longer accompanying them. all he could hear was the air that you were blazing through and the humming of the motorcycle underneath you. the cold wind blew from the direction you were heading, and he could feel the rush of air against his body, a sensation that, he figured, would feel chilly and unpleasant if he could “feel” cold. still, he instinctively clung tighter to your body to preserve body heat. he watched the scenery change, sights buzzing by; the dark sky grew clearer and clearer, until a few bright stars were visible unlike back in the heart of the city.

the motorcycle slowed down to a halt, and he dismounted the vehicle. « here we are, you struck out a hand to dramatically gesture at the building. my usual haunt. »—the android squinted as he scrutinised the place, but before he could get a good look, his sight abruptly turned to black, his eyes not yet caught up with the sudden change in lighting. it was as if someone turned off the light switch, the world suddenly plunged into darkness. and apparently somebody did: you finally joined him after turning off the bike, killing the only light source. nudging him to alert him of your presence, you pulled out a flashlight from your bag and flicked it on, illuminating the area once more. you headed towards the building, and twirled to face him. « tada! my happy place, where i usually come to relax after weeks of finals. you announced pridefully. »

[ ᴬᴺᴬᴸᵞˢᴵᴺᴳ ]

he regarded the place apprehensively. to say that it was what he expected it to be would be lie: what he expected to be a warm and rustic cottage, one that exudes cosiness, turned out to be the old remains of an unfinished construction, merely the skeleton of what would be commonhold. it was dark and dreary, shadows covering the empty spaces and the walls. some of the surface were left unfinished, making the “building” perforated, cold and unfriendly. brutal, even. It was clearly dirty, not taken care of, with rubble littering the floors. he analysed the building and was concerned over its structural integrity. it didn’t seem that stable… surely you wouldn’t…?

you noticed your boyfriend’s souring impression and quickly tried to redeem the monument in his eyes: « that look on you face… you hate this... don’t you? you winced. your question caught him off guard, causing him to fumble for a recovery. – i-uh… no! it… has a unique charm. – you’re allowed to be honest, you know? you sighed. – it’s … certainly not what i had in mind, he winced. you bit your lip in a nervous smile. it’s far from prim and proper for straight laced connor, but you hope that this doesn’t end in a disastrous date. – give it a chance, let me show you up there… you’ll love it! you grinned, trying to lighten the mood. »

entering the structure almost felt like entering a different reality: the white noises of the outside world, the hooting of owls, the chirping and buzzing of insects and the howl of the wind were dampened as soon as he followed you in. it was a different realm, where shade crawled about and reigned, the silence deafening and oppressive. « mind the step. you alerted him. » the murk did not deter you one bit, and, knowing the layout of the structure by heart, you led him through different twist and turns, avoiding what he deduced would be multiple deadends. only the light of the flashlight illuminating the way. he followed you obediently, not straying too far away from you, at the risk of becoming lost in this labyrinth. he observed the environment, perturbed. the area contained so many potential hazards, and the thought that you frequented this place often distressed him slightly: though he did not doubt your ability to take care of yourself, he didn’t like the idea that you could’ve potentially hurt yourself every time you went here. he snapped out of his musing millimetres away from colliding with you and directed his attention to what you were currently preoccupied by: a ledge that led to the second floor. « hey babe… how much do you weigh? he took a few moments to answer, but you quickly rephrased. – sorry, you chuckled, that turned out more personal that i thought. can you give me a leg up? you nodded at the protruding wall. the stairs that lead to the upper floors are blocked by rubble so i’m afraid this is our only way up. »

he simply nodded, you securing your light on your belt as he put himself in position against the wall to boost you up. the climb went through easily, and you quickly turned around to pull him up after his running jump. you both quickly stood up, the android dusting himself, ridding his clothes of soot and dust, before you start your trek once more.

« i was wondering—assuming you usually frequent this place on your own—how do you get over that wall by yourself? he asked. – with great difficulty, you answered truthfully. the android rolled his eyes. – obviously, he says, in that lilt that never fails to make you chuckle. – yeah? well i hope you’re not too tired today, ‘cause we have a bit more scaling to do. don’t want you slowing me down, you teased. – as if. he scoffed. »

once on the highest floor, you led him towards an open chamber whose floor was largely intact but had a large gaping hole on one side—one that helped ventilate the room who, compared to the rest of the building, was properly aerated, the air much cleaner and safer to breathe than the musty and stale odor down below. the opening allowed the moonlight to bathe the room in a soft glow, illuminating the occupants with an ethereal white. a second source of light caught his attention: a small fire that you ignited inside a metal drum, a flame whose heat was a pleasant contrast to the cold, an ember that highlighted the place with a stark, warm, orange glow against the satellite’s smooth, cold, bluish-white light.

you sat down unceremoniously on a worn out and unfinished windowsill—resembling more like a vaguely rectangular opening—the android joining you on the opposite side. lighting a cigarette, you took a deep breath and sighed, leaning back and gazing into the sable sky decorated by a plethora of stars. the man facing you mimicked your movements and gazed at the celestial bodies, little lights twinkling in the dark, innocent and brilliant. able to take his time to view the heavens, he noted that it resembles an elysian painting, tinted an aegean blue. accompanying the sight was the rumbles of a rock song he wasn’t familiar with, probably from a rock concert a few kilometres away—making a note to find out and identify the venue. he could feel the deep thrumming of the bass and vaguely hear the melody, and though the dampened music made it slightly harder for him to pin it down, he managed to identify it: a hit song from a local indie band. he turned to face you, your form peacefully resting against the wall behind you, eyes closed; features relaxed. breathing deeply, you blew puffs of smoke with a lazy, yet content, smile.

« so? what d’you think? your eyes were directly on him now. i know you had your reservations about this place...  »

there was a small twitch in your smile, a tell he caught that told him of your nervousness. despite his previous opinion of this place, he could see why you liked it, and considered it your happy place: it was a distance away from the big city, the air pollution and the noise. it was quieter and calmer here, without any of the loud colours and chatter that never seemed to cease. the location also provided a good view of the woods around it and the elegant skies above, along with ambient music. one that certainly fit your tastes, but at a distance that didn’t make the atmosphere overbearing. it was a good place to recharge; to rest and to think, away from the cumbersome responsibilities, if only for a little while.

« i like it... it has a unique charm. he found himself repeating himself. it’s a good place to escape. – do you? as if a switch was flicked, your uncertain demeanour was replaced with a cheeky grin. i’m glad this place grew on you! you stood up and placed yourself closer to the android, sinking back on him. – i... like places like these and exploring them… just glad i didn’t bore you away. »

you sighed as you settled comfortably against his chest, his arms quickly wrapping around your waist to cradle your form in a tight embrace. he replied with a hum of approval. placing a hand on yours, he brings it up and presses a kiss on your palm. you gently caressed his cheek as he did. « i’m never bored when i get to spend time with you, my love. he says softly, earnestly. – you’re not half bad yourself, babe. you replied. »

he smacked your arm in faux disdain as you placed a kiss on his jaw, and the conversation ended after that. It was quiet, but it wasn’t an awkward silence; no, it was a comfortable one. no other words uttered. just the two of you, the crackle of the flame, your thoughts and the heavens. connor is tracing soothing circles on the back of your hand, resting his head on the top of yours—his focus switching from the galaxy above and you—while you simply relish on the warmth of his presence and hum along to the song playing in the background. though you knew he meant what he said, you notice him start to fidget and become restless. you’re never sure if it was due to the fact that he was a tireless android or if it was simply a tic of his, but he’s unable to simply sit and be. he’s already analysed all that could be analysed in this place, and you know it’s something he can’t help but do. he had a constant need to be up and about, doing something or preoccupying his mind with something.

« beautiful night, tonight, isn’t it? you started, catching his attention. there was a few moments of silence before he answered. – but certainly not as charming as you. – ha. smooth one, anderson. » the flame in the drum is dying, the heat it brought fading away: an attestation of the time that has passed. it’s been that long huh? the band has changed to a different song, though it shows no signs of finishing anytime soon. you decided it was time to put connor out of his misery and do something else.

snapping up unto your feet—startling the android slightly—you offer a hand and pulled him up: « i got an idea. and it’s probably going to sound like a terrible, inane idea… – how foolish are we talking? he asked, unfazed after going through with multiple of your “dates”; including, but not limited to, urban exploration, base jumping, and graffiti (he still doesn’t know why he agreed… he remembers you saying « rebel against the humans! ») – i mean… it’s pretty tame considering the stuff i proposed before. you shrugged. he raised a brow in suspicion. – you... might be charged with criminal trespass… you admit and he looks horrified. but! but! you continued. that’s only if you get caught! which you wouldn’t be if you’re with me! you reassured him. – what are you planning to do, exactly? – i was thinking about sneaking in the concert and just bask in the energy. head for the moshpit or something. you’re bouncing off your ideas, hoping it might interest him. have fun, enjoy the music. – i’ve researched that venue, it’s a private property! do you know the charges that’ll be pressed against you? he asked, perplexed. – duh! it’s a misdemeanour trespass, as is stated in the michigan penal code: county jail for 30 days and/or a fine. section 750.552.. you answered nonchalantly. it don’t really matter! as i said: we won’t get caught. – how are so calm about breaking these laws? he questioned, perplexed. for a law student, you seem so adamant to break them… – look, con. i’m not gonna force you to do this. i love you, and i understand that you have a reputation to uphold, being a detective and all. you assured him. i don’t want you to feel that i’m peer pressuring you into this. – i… i don’t.. you notice how his eyes shift, looking to the far left, unable to make eye contact. you notice that he’s conflicted, that he wants to do this, but doesn’t. you sigh. – look, we can walk back to the bike while you think about it, and you can tell me your decision once we’re there. alright? »

he doesn’t answer, but you know he heard you, so you start to make your way back down, the android following you wordlessly. once down by your bike, you lean on it—rather similarly to how he met you earlier today—and nod at him: « so? what’s you’re decision? – this sounds like a bad idea… still disagreeing, but not outright denying it. you meant what you said: you don’t want to make him do what he doesn’t want to do, but a partner in crime doesn’t sound half bad. you huff. – connor anderson. the connor anderson himself, who snuck into jericho. the same one who infiltrated cyberlife tower in what seemed to be a suicide mission. is scared of a little trespassing? you teased. live a little! – i don’t see how me committing a crime would contributes to my satisfaction with life. – haven’t you heard? as a wise man once said: “you haven’t lived until you’ve committed at least one blue collar crime” – wh-i… literally no one said that! he sputtered in bewilderment. – i just did… you said as you stomped on your cigarette. or are you calling me unwise? – yes! that’s exactly what i’m calling you! he exclaimed. you chuckled. – oh come on… live a little. it’s not even that bad. you consoled. »

the android before you was conflicted. you could tell from his yellow led, which kept flickering and spinning. the guy was seriously debating this. he’s intrigued. he wants to try it out, you just have to say the right things. problem with the rk800 models: they were much too curious for their own good.

« i won’t tell if you don’t? you offered. »

you seat yourself on your bike and turn back to face him: « so, are you in? a moment of silence. the android seemed to have a renewed confidence. – as a law enforcement officer, what’s stopping me from arresting you right now? his eyes held a newfound determination. you smirked lazily. – absolutely nothing. »

he swears to god, or ra9, or whatever higher power there is, that you will be the death of him.

« get off. your ordered. he followed the command without a word. – we’re gonna walk the rest of the way. you added. »

the concert venue was now at a reasonable distance away, and it was within eyeshot. however, that also meant that everything was much louder. he could now feel the boom of the loud music, and make out the lyrics.

« so i’ve stalked this place before, and i know an entry. here’s the plan: we’re gonna immediately go to the right side. the fence that side is less guarded, since there’s a ditch that leads there; we can hide in there. however there was a drone, just one, and a cctv camera—and we also need to look out for guards—alors fais gaffe1 ok? this far along and he still seemed hesitant, so you give one final push. – too late to back out now buddy. you’ll be fine though. just follow my lead and disable that camera. – wait! you glanced back at him. once inside, what do we do? – just act natural and have fun. you grinned. » and with that, you took off, making your way to the future crime scene. he sighed, still unsure on how you managed to coerce him into this, but jogged to catch up to you.

you hopped down in the ditch, connor not too far behind, and you quickly mentioned, while pointing at a sign that said “no androids allowed”: « by the way, you might want to keep that led of yours hidden. i’ve got some bobby pins if you need ‘em. you motioned to the beanie that he was currently adjusting. »

once he seemed satisfied with his changes, you asked him if he could tamper with the camera, which he swiftly disabled. you come out of your little hiding space and start climbing up the chain link fence, telling connor to keep an eye out for the security drone currently patrolling. what you forgot to tell him was the part where you were going to take it out, catching the android off guard as you throw yourself off the top part of the fence you were clinging on onto the passing drone. your swinging and flailing, combined with your weight pulling it down, caused the contraption to crash and the android—who seemed to have snapped out of his stupor—grabbed a metal pipe lying near the barrier and proceeded to smash the machine. chucking the object to the side, he went to help you up on you feet: « are you alright? – i’m fine. you looked at the metallic junk that was once a drone. we make a pretty good team, don’t you think? he looked back at the destroyed drone. – i don’t want to keep thinking about it… – destruction of property. you clicked your tongue. i’m proud of you con. you pretended to wipe a tear off your eyes. – let’s just go. he turned away , and you follow him up the fence with a chuckle. – cheer up con. you hopped over the chain. it’s okay… you’ve done worse. »

he was about to retort, when a figure seemed to head your way, and you both managed to duck out into a corner before being discovered by the flashlight. when it was clear, you snuck out of the hiding spot and proceeded to join the masses. it was different. he’s never been to a concert before. sure, he was a fan of rock, often listening to it with hank, but experiencing it live was so very different. he knew it would be loud, deafening, but he didn’t expect the surge of excitement and vivacity. it was exhilarating, a completely different world: the bright colours, the loud ambiance, the energy of the music. the android couldn’t help, but let himself get a bit excited. he was glad he decided to come though he’d never admit it to you.

you both floated around the edge of the crowd, the venue being full. it wasn’t a particularly big place, but there were quite a lot of people there, you mused out loud. must be a pretty popular band, their song being catchy enough. at some point or another, you both cheered along with the crowd (though he was much meeker in his cries), and for some reason, decided to try and wade through the people to get closer to the front—the moshpit—this time, the android seemed to play along with your plan without complaint.

he sort of wished he had now. you don’t really know when it happened, whether it was when you rummaged through the people or during a collision while moshing, lost in the intensity of the crowd—every member in state of ecstatic delirium. the beanie came off. when he realised, he quickly hid his led, which was a disturbed yellow, and notified you. you didn’t have to hear what he said to know what was happening. you quickly led him towards the “exit”, the immediate crowd—who saw the black sheep—parting like the red sea as you crossed, but as your neared the edge of the venue security finally reached and cornered you. you quickly placed yourself besides connor, sending across a relaxed body language. you discreetly grabbed his hand, and whispered « play along » which he wouldn’t have heard if he were human.

« how may we help you sir? you asked, flashing your friendliest smile. – i’m concerned about this friend of yours… his eyes glanced at your boyfriend, but you keep your eyes on him. connor was unfazed. perhaps because he trusted your ability in getting yourselves out of this mess—awww, you’re flattered—or that his model are used to high stress environment—most likely, but you certainly hope it was also because of the former. this was a darker area of the place, so it would obscure most of your features, and the band was still playing in the background—ignorant to the revelation—which would somewhat hide your voices. – what about him? curt and indignant. – androids are not allowed in this area. he pointed to the anti-android post outside the fence. the fence that led to freedom. i’m going to have to bring him in for trespass, and you for smuggling him in. androids were recognised as their own sentient species, but laws protecting them have yet to be passed: android-free zones were still legal. most places in the city removed their anti-android signs, but people from the periphery seemed more resistant to change. fuck. – oh that old thing? the led? that don’t prove nothing. you shrugged. be cool [y/n]. it’s just a temporary tattoo. motherfucker lost a bet. you thank whatever gods above that the rk800 models could somewhat control their led colour, so that his remained blue. – is that so? he turned to connor. you seemed adamant on hiding that led of yours. the asshat must have a grudge against androids, huh? You wished he’d just kick you out. make life easier for both parties. – it’s a fake tattoo. he played along. and it’s a bad one at that—i don’t want to be associated with those plastics… he grumbled. you cackled. – well, maybe you shouldn’t have lost that bet, michael. the guard in front of you grunted, displeased. he really wanted to bring in an android huh? prove something to someone? or just pure malice? you never really paid attention in psych class. – if that’s the case, since you’re both humans, i’d like to see your ticket.  »

you went rigid. clenching your jaw you planned your next course of action. you have your phone in your pocket, but there was nothing. you could surrender it, and run away as he was distracted, but he could then trace it back to you and press charges… you could fight? the both of you could easily overpower him, outrunning him wouldn’t be a problem either. but you’ll never hear the end of it if you decided to hurt someone when you had a more pacifist option, so you chose to run. it was abrupt. you were in a standoff, one party waiting for the other to make their move. and all of the sudden you make a break for it and dash off for the fence, your partner running for it too. there was a bit of a scuffle but you managed to fend him off long enough for you to scramble up the fence. the man quickly caught up and yanked your leg—alarming you—though a well placed kick from the other freed you long enough to jump off into the other side, ready to make a dash for your life as you land.

the two of you ran until you reached your bike, which was quite a distance away (thank fuck for that, at least he won’t follow you that far—unless he’s really fucking persistent), where you collapsed on the spot and panted slightly. the android himself was looking slightly weary. heavy breathing turned into wheezing laughter as the absurdity of what just transpired settled into your mind.

« i can’t believe that actually happened! you exclaimed between laughs. – we barely got out of there! he chided. we were almost arrested! – but we weren’t. told ya’ con. should’a believed me. you tsk-ed, having calmed down from the giggles. i’m insulted to be quite honest. you exploded into another fit of laughter. – i don’t know how i managed to get you to do this with me! you howled. – never again. he stated, a finality in his tone. – oh come on, you loved it. you rolled your eyes. he stared at you in silence, unimpressed. it was true, but you’ll never hear that from him. – i hate you, he frowned. – love you too babe, you responded, running a hand through your hair. »

he sighed and let himself fall beside you. taking out your backpack once more, you rummaged through and handed him an item: an inconspicuous water bottle. when asked what it was, you answered « thirium. that’s what you guys drink right? » as you opened your own water bottle, gulping down its content. he informed you that androids don’t need to constantly replenish the thirium in his body like humans did with water—only drinking them when they have lost a significant amount—but that he appreciated the gesture. “it’s the thought that counts”.

you huffed, slightly bashful, going into a tirade about how you can’t keep up with the constantly evolving technology. « you’re starting to sound like hank now. » he chuckled and you grimaced and pretended to vomit in response, though you joined him in his laughter. you both spent time sitting there. just breathing. coming down from your adrenaline rush.

« wanna crash at my place? you offered. – i’d be more than happy to, he obliged. »

that night, you both slept like a rock. well, you did. you completely conked out. connor peacefully entered stasis as he usually did. you arrived at your flat sometime in the morning and passed out. barely managing to blearily have a “shower”—dousing yourself in water—before passing out.

come later in the morning—when the light shone softly and the white noise of the city: ambient sound of traffic, chatter, chirping of pigeons—you were sleeping peacefully when you felt someone shift beside you, rousing you slightly from your slumber. you groaned as your head gains enough coherence to remember about university and the brunt of the waking world. think you’re gonna play hooky today. maybe kenneth can take notes for you… you made a note to ask him later...

unwrapping himself from you, your partner stood up to get ready to go to work—going off to change into neater clothings that he stored in your house and getting decent—and went off to prepare a pot of coffee for you and stick bread in the toaster. feeling the sudden loss of heat as he went away, your sleep heavy mind blindly felt the portion of the bed that he usually slept on—the right—patting it, looking for the missing presence. this went on for a few minutes and your limb felt heavy as your tired body fell back asleep. you resigned to simply poke your arm from under the cover, hoping it’d catch someone. you were half asleep when the reaching hand finally found something, as it was held and gently guided to another’s cheek, yet another kiss pressed on your palm. you felt your heart melt, and hummed approvingly. « stay. you mumbled. he smiled at your naïve request. – i have to go to work. – skip work… f… ight the government… you yawned. – you know i can’t do that, my love. – i… order you... you sleep riddled mind was struggling to keep up as you slowly dozed again. to… – i’ll see you again this evening, i’ll be right back. oh yeah it’s saturday, you reminded yourself. no classes. you mentally cheered. – okk… you were going to pass out again. »

his warmth left you, and you find yourself yearning for it again. before he left, he glanced back towards you—practically buried under the duvet, only visible as a lump under the blanket and the hand poking through the right side. « i love you, [y/n] »

you were too gone to reply, but regardless, he left for work with a small smile.

work went on as usual. filling reports was boring, but it had to be done. at least he could finish them in record time, built to be more efficient at it than your typical human officer. being a detective assigned to the anti-android crimes taskforce, it was rather quiet right now, and though he was grateful that androids weren’t being harmed, it was terribly boring. though colin, who had to start all the way back at the beginning as a beat cop, seemed to be enjoying a peaceful break. he sighed for the umpteenth time as he fidgeted and fiddled with his coin, having already abused the fun out of his multiple pens and pencils. he missed spending time with you; at least it was exciting and unpredictable (getting to be with you is an enjoyable bonus). he stared blankly at his coin and sighed again. his father figure gave him a look across the desk—“did anything happen?”. he shook his head.—“no nothing bad or dangerous happened while i was with [y/n].”. the android then asked if he fancied a cup of coffee from the coffee shop across the road. the old man simply grunted.

« you can just take a walk, you don’t need to use me as a fucking excuse. – alright. he answered placidly. »

the android thought about walking to stretch his legs. maybe go to that bakery that you fancied so much. you did like the strawberry shortcake a crazy amount. but as he would find out, the slow and easy moments shouldn’t be taken for granted: a very disgruntled man, who stormed in to file a police report, happened to run in with the android, still somewhat deep in his musings. oh boy was he in for a rude awakening.

they both promptly apologise, however, once they saw each other they instantly recognised each other—though the detective kept his face neutral. « you! you’re the fucking android that trespassed into a restricted area! he accused. straight faced, he replied calmly. – i am indeed an android, but i believe you may have accused the wrong one. there often many iterations of the same model. he cursed his stars and the fates that put him in this situation. one that meant he was, as hank would put it, in deep shit. »

he was glad most people didn’t know there were only 2 rk800 currently in circulation: him and his brother, colin, whom he was trying to contact. as connor continued trying to placate the angry man, and deny his involvement in anything, he heard his brother’s voice come through.

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[ ᵂᴴᴬᵀ'ˢ ᵁᴾ? ] > [ ᵀᴴᴱᴿᴱ ᴵˢ ᴬ ᴹᴬᴺ ᴼᵁᵀ ᴴᴱᴿᴱ, ᶜᴸᴱᴬᴿᴸᵞ ᵛᴱᴿᵞ ᶜᴿᴼˢˢᴱᴰ, ᵂᴴᴼ ᵂᴼᵁᴸᴰ ᴸᴵᴷᴱ ᵀᴼ ᶠᴵᴸᴱ ᴬ ᴾᴼᴸᴵᶜᴱ ᴿᴱᴾᴼᴿᵀ. ] he decided to give him a clear picture.

[ SENDING AUDIO-VISUAL FEED TO RK800 #313 248 317-60—COLIN ] [ LINK ESTABLISHED. WAITING PERMISSION… ] [ ACCEPTED. ]

> [ ᴬ ᵀᴿᴱˢᴾᴬˢˢ ᴼᴺ ᴾᴿᴵᵛᴬᵀᴱ ᴾᴿᴼᴾᴱᴿᵀᵞ ᴮᵞ ᴬ ᴰᴱᵛᴵᴬᴺᵀ ] there was a moment of silence before his brother replied. [ ᵂᴴᴬᵀ ᵀᴴᴱ ᴴᴱᴸᴸ ᴰᴵᴰ ᵞᴼᵁ ᵀᵂᴼ ᴳᴱᵀ ᴵᴺᵀᴼ ᴸᴬˢᵀ ᴺᴵᴳᴴᵀ? ] > [ ᴵ ᴬᴾᴾᴿᴱᶜᴵᴬᵀᴱ ᴴᴼᵂ ᵞᴼᵁ ᴵᴹᴹᴱᴰᴵᴬᵀᴱᴸᵞ ᴬˢˢᵁᴹᴱᴰ ᴵᵀ ᵂᴬˢ ᵁˢ. ] connor replied, sarcastic but devoid of humour. [ ᵂᴱᴸᴸ? ᵂᴬˢ ᴵᵀ ᴿᴱᴬᴸᴸᵞ ᵞᴼᵁ ᵀᵂᴼ? ] the android, who somehow felt a migraine develop—even though that shouldn’t be possible—sighed. > [ ᴸᴼᴺᴳ ˢᵀᴼᴿᵞ ˢᴴᴼᴿᵀ, ᵂᴱ ᵀᴿᴱˢᴾᴬˢˢᴱᴰ ᴵᴺᵀᴼ ᴬᴺ ᴬᴿᴱᴬ ᵂᵂ ˢᴴᴼᵁᴸᴰ'ᵛᴱ ᴬᵛᴼᴵᴰᴱᴰ. ] > [ˢᴱᴺᴰ ᴴᴱᴸᴾ? ] [ ᵞᴼᵁ? ᶜᴼᴹᴹᴵᵀᴱᴰ ᴬ ᶜᴿᴵᴹᴱ ᴼᴺ ᵞᴼᵁᴿ ᴼᵂᴺ ᵛᴼᴸᴵᵀᴵᴼᴺ? ]

the android could hear his brother cackle at his misery. though outside of earshot, the sound echoes in his mind as the link was not yet severed.

[ ᴺᴬᴴ, ᵞᴼᵁ'ᴿᴱ ᴼᴺ ᵞᴼᵁᴿ ᴼᵂᴺ ᴼᴺ ᵀᴴᴵˢ ᴼᴺᴱ ] [ ᴳᴼᴼᴰ ᴸᵁᶜᴷ ᵀᴴᴼᵁᴳᴴ. ] [ ᴴᴬᴺᴷ'ˢ ᴳᴼᴺᴺᴬ ᴮᴱ ᴾᴵˢˢᴱᴰ ] and with that, his brother abandoned him.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

the man was absolutely irate, convinced that he was the one who trespassed in the venue—he wasn’t wrong—be he kept accusing someone of the same profile as him, but named “michael”. you really did him a favour on that one. it seemed like salvation had come however, as hank intercept the confrontation—the man calmed down after seeing a human officer. his brother must’ve informed the lieutenant (connor wants to thank him, but not), knowing how the appearance of two rk800s would only aggravate the situation. through a stroke of luck, the man didn’t have enough evidence to successfully file a report—against an rk800 named “michael”... who didn’t exist.

but to say that hank was pissed was an understatement. thus begins the walk of shame as hank demanded to « talk in private ». at the end of a severe tongue-lashing, decorated with many “fuck”s and “shit”s, he was in a sour mood and positively fuming. forget the shortcake. he was absolutely going to get back at you for this.

you were snoozing peacefully, off in dreamworld, when you woke up to the buzzing of your phone. groggy, you ran you hand under the pillows and felt for the object until you found it. checking it revealed that you 27 missed calls from an unknown number and a few message from them:

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unknown number [ two missed message ]

> what the fuck did you get connor into? > ???????

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bzz. bzz. a new message?

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unknown number [ 1 new message ]

> i know you saw the messages, fuckibg answer

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you also had a new message from connor, though his message didn’t bode well for you either:

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connard2 anderson <3 [ 1 missed message ]

> we need to talk. > ):<

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the use of the emoji made you chuckle, but you were scared of what the future brought for you. oh boy… you were in deep shit weren’t you…

e͟p͟i͟l͟o͟g͟u͟e͟:

you lived to see another day. hank gave you an even more brutal scolding than what connor received, and you swore that if this were a shitty choice-that-matters game you’d see a metre for his friendship go down. not that there was much there in the first place.

connor gave an even more punishing sanction: he gave you the absolute silent treatment for a month. no talking, no hugs nor cuddles, and only the odd texts once in a blue moon. an absolutely miserable 31 days for you, spent by sulking. safe to say this was a punishment you’ll never forget, and one that will discourage you from ever trying that kind of stunt ever again.

or at least when connor’s around. it’s free game when it’s just you by yourself. connor knows this and simply sighs in resignation and just hopes you don’t get yourself in potentially future career ruining situation...

f͟o͟o͟t͟n͟o͟t͟e͟s

1. french expression that i was too lazy to translate, essentially means “watch out/stay alert”,,, somewhere along those lines, but informal. 2. connard is a french word pronounced almost like connor, but it means shithead. reader has a strange sense of humour.

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[star-anise]

i was hoping my last ask would get me a free rant without having to make a dreaded choice uhhhhhhh do maybe washcloths or fake smile?

Hahaha no you have to specify what white person thing you want a rant about, or else I’m paralyzed by too many choices. And nb. by “white” I generally mean white Anglo-Saxon Protestant; WASPs have traditionally been held up as the cultural standard everyone else n North America or other British colonies should follow, and the “whiteness” of different European ethnicities in those colonies is generally judged by how assimilated they are to the WASP ideal. So my observations will not apply very well to, for example, other European ethnicities, or people from areas colonized by those other European groups.

WASHCLOTHS. Related to another trap, Guest Towels Guests Must Never Use. Which are usually distinguished by their elaborateness and a thin layer of dust. As a certified White Person (Anglo Canadian) I can say: This is a real actual literal thing my family does. If I stay at an aunt’s house, I don’t use her guest towels; I walk past the guest towels on the towel rack and ask my hostess, “What towel do you want me to use?” and she fetches me a new, less nice, towel out of the linen closet. 

The actual washcloth meant to be used is hung somewhere separate. When I was about 13, I rebelled against sharing a washcloth with my brothers, bought my own washcloth from a department store, embroidered my name on it, and zealously defended it against all comers. These days, my older brother has four children. When we go to his house to eat dinner, his children all wash their hands before they eat… and then wipe them dry on a single towel hung in the downstairs bathroom, which his guests also use. So we all wash our hands and then share germs. I… think? There might be a bar on the opposite wall with guest towels hanging on it?  But my eyes have been trained to skate right over guest towels. They’re decor, not things we actually use.

Why White People Do This:

1. Washing and cleanliness… have not traditionally held a central place in European life the way, say, wudu does in Islam. Although priests ritually wash their hands before performing the consecration of Mass, nobody else in the congregation has to. This is partly because in Christian Scripture, Jesus says that if something is ritually pure but spiritually suspect, it should be treated as impure, which Christians kind of took to mean “ritual purity and cleanliness rituals are things non-Christians do.” 

So in the 19th century, a German doctor discovered that you could reduce the rate of infection dramatically when doctors washed their hands and instruments between dissecting dead bodies and attending in childbirth. Doctors were OFFENDED and APPALLED by this–partly because the guy pointing it out was an asshole, yes, but partly because there was a feeling that “a gentleman’s hands are always clean”, so it was offensive to say their hands were dirty because it impugned their class and education.

Cleanliness is hugely related to class and status–I could go on a LOT more here about how in the 19th century, British and American attempts to “educate” and “civilize” poor white people and people of colour included imposing standards of hygiene on them that felt cruel and punitive–scrubbing skin raw, using caustic soap, delousing with kerosene–partly because white people didn’t have a very advanced idea of what chemicals made good cosmetics, and there wasn’t much awareness of the need for oils or moisturizers. (For a long time very few sources of natural oil, like canola, olives, or sunflowers, or even petroleum products, were available in Britain, so until somewhat recently they only really had pine tar and animal fat, which they used for everything from making soap to lighting lamps to greasing cart axels.) And the 19th century cleanliness movement did not have a good opinion of traditional bathing methods like the sauna, banya, or steam room, where sweat was scraped off the skin. So people who HAD hygiene rituals that worked for them, when they emigrated to western Europe or North America, got shamed and discouraged from using them. It was just expected that part of “civilizing” a child who hadn’t been “well brought up” was forcefully ducking them in a bath and scrubbing them while they screamed and fought you.

So for white people from everything but the highest classes, if you go a few generations back, there’s this feeling that cleanliness is something unnatural and unpleasant, something imposed by a punitive authoritarian force, and not something intrinsically desirable. Old men used to talk about “taking a bath once a year, whether I need it or not,” and fear of losing their “protective coating of dirt.” Which makes sense when you realize how awful old cosmetics used to feel.

I mean, as I type this, I’m applying Vaseline to the hangnails on my fingers, because when I use soap in the bath or do the dishes or wash my hands after going to the bathroom, the soap strips oil from my skin and dries it out, leading it to crack and bleed. This is a really common problem but the current solution seems to be “women carry tiny bottles of moisturizer everywhere in their purses, and men… suffer if they want to seem manly, and then post memes to facebook about how rough and terrible their hands look to emphasize their heterosexual masculinity.”

This also relates to why white people say racist things about people of colour being “dirty” when they use natural methods of keeping their hair or skin clean. The white conception of cleanliness is honestly really fucked up.

2. Cloth holds an especially weird place in white society. I mean, lots of cultures everywhere like their cloth to look nice! But in Europe and American colonies in the 1600s there was an extra special movement to restrict women economically and bar them from business and public life–so while a rich woman could run a business outside the home and buy and sell in 1400, that freedom was disappearing in 1600. Only women of the ~lower classes~ did real actual work. And the religious sentiment at the time really emphasized Purity, Hard Work, Productiveness, and No Fun. So women were supposed to stay inside all the time and not participate in industry! But they were always supposed to be busy. The saying was literally “Idle hands are the devil’s tools”. 

That turned embroidery from an aesthetic, decorative art into a moral act. You didn’t embroider to make something pretty; you embroidered for the good of your soul. Fancy embroidered pieces displayed in a home were meant to demonstrate a) that the house was rich enough to have idle women, and b) the moral purity and obedience to gender norms of the women of the house. (This also extends to things like quilts, lace doilies, hooked rugs, etc.)

So towels used to be made of linen, a plain flat cloth, and then embroidered and otherwise embellished. My mom, in the 1960s, learned how to do embroidery where you painstakingly pull a few threads out of a piece of linen, and then embellish the place where the threads have been taken out.

Linen, incidentally, is a strange and amazing fabric. When new, freshly starched and ironed, it is flat and crisp. But pressure and moisture can change it really easily. When I sew with linen, I just have to lick my fingers and fold it over, and it stays like that–something most fabrics don’t do. So if you actually use a linen towel to dry your hands, you will crumple it in a way that is very hard to reverse.

Therefore: Fancy linens were displayed prominently in the home as a status symbol, but a guest who wanted to stay on his hostess’s good side did not use them. There are a lot of ettiquettes around using linens when you absolutely have to, like just gently wiping your fingers on a towel, that diminished the damage the fabric would take.

So, I mean, actually rich people used their good towels, because if they ruin them, they can just get new ones. Fancy linens were intended for high-class guests who knew how to keep from damaging them. So using someone’s guest towels sent the message, “I am so high-status that I’m WORTH potentially ruining something that took a ton of work to make and maintain.” Or, if you obviously weren’t that high status, “I don’t know about the work that goes into making nice things, or don’t value the work you did and don’t care how much effort you’ll have to go to because I wanted to wipe my face.”

But that was in the days of linen. Guest towels are going out of fashion, partly because modern terrycloth towels are almost impossible to crease or ruin, so it doesn’t really matter if guests use them. But even with terrycloth towels, homeowners sometimes like to create really elaborate towel displays. I don’t know how those people feel when guests use them, but as a white girl I feel really uncomfortable taking a towel display in somebody else’s house apart, and try to wipe my hands while causing the least disturbance possible.

Oh, I guess I should mention that invisible tests no one will ever mention if you fail are absolutely a white person thing. Like, if you watch costumed period drama movies, there’s often a scene where someone is really unbearable and rude, and everyone is super polite and awkward and just sits there and says nothing. That’s not consciously an exclusive practice; from the perspective of white people it’s just an ingrained reflex, “Freeze and smile when something awkward happens and then later cut them out of your life.” 

That reflex comes because the Industrial Revolution and colonization (1600s-1800s) led to a lot of class mobility. Ordinary men could get involved in business and become wealthier than the hereditary landowners! Which the hereditary landowners felt super threatened by, so they went out of their way to cultivate manners and standards that were very unlike those used by the common people. Upperclass accents became more marked and exaggerated; dictionaries decided to make English spelling and grammar especially hard to learn; manners got super weird and unintuitive. They wanted to make it as hard as possible for common people to fit into high society.

Therefore, to enable that system, the rule became: Never tell someone when they’re fucking up. If they know what they’re doing wrong, they’ll FIX it, and then they’ll fit in better! And that would lead to the absolute downfall of Western civilization! Which would of course be a bad thing! And that got codified as The Right And Desirable Way To Do Things. A low-class person might say “Hey, you just insulted me, I’m upset,” but someone with aspirations of rising higher in life learned to freeze and say nothing. That was how you defined “polite”.

So like I said, if I, as a white person, point out to other liberal white people that the freeze-and-smile-awkwardly response is really exclusionary to people from different backgrounds, they go, “Oh my gosh, you’re right!” and we can talk about changing it. It’s why white people invented assertiveness training. It’s a thing white people have to unpack and decolonize. But it’s not commonly a conscious attempt to exclude someone by not letting them know they’re breaking the rules.

ANYWAY. Towels.

So IF someone has guest towels taking up their towel rack in their bathroom, there’s very little room left for the actual towels. (Unless they’re like my aunt, whose bathroom literally has a second towel rack to accommodate her guest towel arrangement) Therefore: The entire fucking family sharing a single washcloth because that’s all they have room for, and it doesn’t feel that important not to share.

WHITE CULTURE IS WEIRD AS HELL.

And if you come to my house? You’re allowed to use my guest towels. It’s what they’re there for.

[wongxiexie]

Grief and decisions

Pairing: Kim Jongin (Kai) x Reader Genre: Angst Word Count: 2.271 words Warnings: Mentions of cheating Note: The photo’s from EXO’s website. Just wanted to be clear that I hate cheating. It’s so infuriating and sad, tbh.

Excitement radiates off of Jongin in waves. It will be the first time he’ll see you again in two weeks and he’s just so stoked to have you back in his arms.

A soft buzz interrupts his thoughts and he looks at his mobile to open the notification that just came in. 

From: My sweetie pie 2:13 PM Please go to the apartment around 4PM

Not letting even a beat pass, Jongin’s fingers flies across the screen to type out an affirmative response. The smile on his face lights up even more upon seeing the contact name you put for yourself on his phone.

Standing up from his place on the bed, he makes his way to his closet and opens the dresser to flick through each of the shirts he owns. He decides that he has to look his best that afternoon. You haven’t really communicated with each other for the past couple of weeks, so he figures he should dress up for the occasion.

Besides, he wants to always look his best whenever he’s meeting up with you because that’s what you deserve anyway, only the best.

Sounds of shuffling filled the room upon his rummaging. Gucci, Balenciaga, Valentino, Burberry, high end brands fill his clothes hanger, name it and it’s sure to be there, but he just can’t seem to find the perfect one to wear for you.

But his actions come to a halt when he catches a glimpse of a white button up and a memory makes his lips tug upwards, urging him to reach for the piece of clothing. He picks it up from the rack and looks at it wistfully.

It isn’t anything grand, he just remembers you saying he looked really nice in a simple white button up, with you telling him he looked like he could be your boyfriend, to which he replied, ‘Why don’t we make that true then?’

He laughs even more upon the reminder of what you did next. He expected you to kiss his cheek like the darling that you were, but instead he was met with a shocked expression on your face followed by a smack on the arm and you telling him he better not be joking.

It’s decided then, he’s going to wear that shirt.

Upon finishing his preparations, he picks up his phone, wallet and keys from the counter and rushes out early so he can buy some flowers for you.

——

Fifteen minutes has passed since he arrived at your front door and just stood there. Anxiety is eating at him from the inside and the level of nervousness he feels is through the roof.

Glancing at his watch, he sees it’s already 3:58. Should he wait two more minutes or just knock already?

He almost jumps in surprise when the front door opens and looking in, he sees it was Kyungsoo who unlocked the door. His brows furrow a bit. He had wanted to talk to you alone, but he guesses he couldn’t really blame you or Kyungsoo if either of you decided he should be there when Jongin came over.

Wiping his sweaty palms on his pants, he enters your home quietly, but he’s not prepared for the lump that suddenly forms in his throat upon the feeling of missing you and missing being with you in your home.

He walks further down the hallway and into the living room where he spots Kyungsoo leaning over you and whispering something to you. You give a small nod to the man which makes Kyungsoo release a heavy sigh and walk towards the other room.

“I’ll just be here if you need me,” he hears the man say in a low voice.

Yin and yang is how the whites of the room contrasted with the dark brewing inside him and he’s positive it can also describe the two emotions he’s feeling right now. On one hand, he’s filled with immense joy and love upon seeing you there, but on the other, the shame and regret flows through his veins as if they were already part of him.

And oh, how much he wants those feelings to go away, but he perfectly knows it won’t be that easy. How can it be easy when he hurt you because of his selfishness?

It’s as if he’s glued to the floor. He wants so bad to run to you and just engulf you in his hold, but he finds that he can’t move.

You’re staring at the ground as if it’s the most interesting thing in the room and Jongin’s heart breaks just a bit with the reality that you can’t bring yourself to look at him.

“[Y/N]...” he calls your name quietly, not daring enough to break the silence in the room.

You lift your head up to look at him and Jongin has to stop himself from breaking down at the sight of your red and puffy eyes. It is clear as day to him, you had been crying and it’s all because of him.

The flowers almost slip from his grasp which makes him snap out of his trance.

Taking a few steps forward, he kneels in front of you but you look to the side to evade his stare. Grasping your hand, he pushes the flowers towards you, but still, you keep your gaze away from his.

“I’m so sorry, [Y/N]...” he whispers. He rests his forehead on your knees and the moment he closes his eyes, he hears a quiet sniffle from you.

The tears start to fall down your cheeks, dropping onto Jongin’s hand and he finds that he can’t take it anymore for he’s aware it’s all his fault and he knows it damn well.

He raises his own teary gaze and grasps your face with both palms. “I’m so sorry baby, I’m so sorry,” he says amid his own tears.

You hold his hands and gently remove them from your face, all while still sobbing quietly. You still haven’t said a word and it makes Jongin even more frustrated and angry with himself.

He can take crying and screaming. Hell, he knows he deserves to be hurt by you, but this... this silence that you’re subjecting him to is something that he can’t take.

Standing up from your place on the couch, you walked towards the counter to a large brown box settled on the floor, something Jongin didn’t notice upon entering the room. He follows your movements and he tilts his head in confusion upon seeing it.

You release a shuddering sigh and clear your throat.

“These are your things,” you murmur lowly, sniffling after. “It hurst to...” you sobb. “...it hurts to keep seeing them, so I want them gone.”

The look on Jongin’s face physically pains you - he looks so guilt-stricken and heartbroken.

The first sob that escapes him wracks his chest and it is immediately followed by more. He stands up in a rush from his place and almost runs to get to you, but he falls on his knees by your feet.

Banging his fist on the floor, he cries in hate and disgust at himself. “I hate myself! I hate myself!” He sobs harder, and with shame, he realizes that he is laughable for having the audacity to think that you’ll still want him after he broke your trust.

You can’t bear the sight of Jongin hurting so you drop to your knees and grasp his arms, pulling him to you and engulfing him in a tight embrace. You relish in the feeling of having him against you even though you know the circumstances could’ve been way better.

Rubbing his back in gentle circles, you soothe Jongin through his tears as you whisper comfort to his ears. He’s still crying, going on about how much he regrets his actions, that those were all mistakes, how much he loves you and how he will do absolutely anything to get you back.

You bury your face in the crook of his neck and let your tears fall. You love Jongin, you really do, and contrary to what he believes, you have already forgiven him.

But you can never go back to how things were. You know it and he knows it even more.

It has been two weeks since he admitted to having cheated on you. You were shocked, so shocked in fact that you actually thought he was playing a cruel prank on you. You thought you knew him, and it never once passed your mind that he can do something like that. But oh, what do they always say? Right, never say never.

Your relationship had been experiencing some strain because of the stress both of your careers put on you. He was a popular model, one of the most sought-after, in fact, while you were an up-and-coming actress. Your busy schedules coupled with the pressure to deliver quality output caused the two of you to be so strung-up.

The situation wasn’t the best, but you honestly believed that you could pull through, just that you had to let the rough times pass and you had to work together. It never even occurred to you that he would try to find from somebody else the relief he needed to tide himself over.

Instead of seeking comfort and assurance from you, he chose to bask in the warmth of someone else.

That was a few months ago, and you were right, you did pull through what with the success of your most recent movie and the deal that he secured with a high end brand. You were mostly free to spend time together again after everything, and you loved the pleasant moments that came everyday.

You guessed that’s how it was with Jongin, he always brought you joy and light, and more importantly, hope and comfort.

At least until he admitted to everything a month after the release of your movie.

He said it meant nothing, that she was no one. But when you asked who she was and he told you his ex’s name, Krystal Jung, you didn’t even try to fight the hurt. She was his first love, the only woman he showered with love for years before he met you and developed feelings for you. The moment he uttered her name amid his choked sobs, you knew you had already lost the fight.

You believe him, the part where he said he regretted everything, but you don’t believe him when he said it meant nothing.

The affair made you realize that while you were hurting because of the rocky times in the relationship, he was hurting, too, and you weren’t even aware it. So much so that he felt the need to turn to another for the comfort he so wanted to feel.

But no matter the reason behind the affair, the fact remains that he cheated. The fact remains that he chose to do something that would inevitably break you apart. Ironic, huh? Ironic for him to do that when he should’ve done something to fix the strain instead.

His crying has eased, but you continue to rub his back. He rests his forehead on your shoulder as he keeps whispering sorry and forgive me to you. You halt your arms and breath a deep exhale that comes with a slight shudder, something Jongin notices so he plants a kiss to the underside of your jaw.

You hold his face with your hands and prompt him to meet your gaze. “I’ve forgiven you, Jongin. I’ve forgiven you the first time you asked for forgiveness.” You give him a pained smile and continue, “I love you, but seeing you hurts me every time.”

Resting your forehead on his, Jongin closes his eyes tightly as he starts to tear up again.

“I need some time to myself so I could heal from all of this,” you whisper. “...so we could both heal from this.”

He hugs you tight and starts crying loudly. “I can’t lose you, [Y/N]!” The force of his sobs makes his body shake, along with the frustration and guilt that is coming out of him almost in tangible waves.

“Please don’t leave me, I can’t live without you!”

Suddenly, a strong pair of arms roughly yanks him from you and you come face to face with Kyungsoo holding Jongin by his middle. Kyungsoo’s brows are furrowed deeply and you know it isn’t easy for him to see you and Jongin like this. He has long been friends with the two of you and he’s even closer to Jongin, which is why it hurt him too when you told him about what happened.

“Leave her alone, Jongin,” Kyungsoo says gruffly as he drags the taller man out.

Jongin loses the fight in him and doesn’t even try to break free from Kyungsoo’s hold. Instead, he stands up straight and walks towards the door, terrified of the possibility of not being able to have you back in his arms again. But he knows the least he can do is to honor your wish for him to give you space. That much he will grant to at least show you he respects you.

It feels even more final when Kyungsoo thrust at him the box containing his belongings.

He doesn’t even try to wipe his tears anymore. Grasping the knob, he opens the door as he prepares to exit your apartment, but not before turning back to see you sobbing on the floor, with Kyungsoo now holding you while looking at him with disappointment and hurt.

[wrongfullythinking]

Science and Data and Freedoms

There are millions of these rants around, so you are under no need to read mine.  In fact, what I am about to say here should not be taken as anything more than one person’s opinion.  OPINION.  I have several qualifications (I will get to those in a second), but still, this blog is primarily concerned with, as the title suggest, wrong thought.  And yes, thoughts can be flat-out wrong, but that’s another topic for another time, yes?  I primarily abandoned this blog when tumblr decided to advocate for censorship, and well, if you don’t think that was very bad thinking, then I can’t help you and you certainly should stop reading now.  But mostly, I find myself needing a little bit of a platform to rant, so here it is.  This is not for you.  This is for me.  But maybe, if you read it, and you learn something, then it was a little bit more than that, and that’s entirely unnecessary but I’ll be fine with it.  Don’t worry, I’ll keep it a secret.

My qualifications 1) I have a Ph.D. from a major research institution in America.  What that means, most importantly, is actual training in how to read and understand academic writing. 2) I teach statistics, among other things, and I teach in a public health college at another major research institution in America. 3) I work with epidemiologists, though I don’t claim that title myself (I describe myself a psychometrician with an expertise in educational measurement), and I am currently working on several projects using epidemiological methods. 4) A portion of my work in educational measurement focuses on critical thinking, particularly the development of critical thinking and problem-solving skills.

Premises So, let’s organize this in a logical manner.  To do so, we generally start with a series of premises.  Here are some of mine. 1) Most people are afraid of dying. 2) The fear of dying plays some part in how people live their lives. 3) People are willing to make some tradeoffs between Safety and Liberty. 4) There is an inverse relationship between Safety and Liberty.  The more liberty, the less safety.  This is only a unidirectional inverse relationship (as liberty ascends, safety decreases), and NOT true in the opposite direction (as safety ascends, liberty must decrease).  This is VERY IMPORTANT. 5) People are poor estimators of their own odds of death, and especially how certain events (say, getting drunk at a party or smoking a hallucinogenic drug or driving recklessly) contribute to their risk of death. 6) There is much unknown about the “novel coronavirus” or SARS-COV_2 or Covid-19 (use whatever term you are comfortable with, the distinction between all of these is arbitrary and unimportant... the root of communication is exchange of messaging between two parties, and all these terms work fine in most cases, since we’re hardly in a lab where it is very important to separate out disease, virus, symptoms, and classifications). 7) Action has been taken by governments and individuals exceeding their statutory authorities. 8) Some of the actions taken by governments and individuals makes no difference in the ability of people to live disease-free, but does have other impacts. 9) The “other impacts” in Premise 8 can directly cause loss of life, as well as other ramifications (lack of social mobility, inability to secure safe food supplies, increase in spousal/partner/child abuse, lack of ability to achieve an education, etc.) that have social and personal consequences for potentially many years, if not generations.  This is the most controversial premise, because it has a tendency to operate on some slippery-slope type logic, which is exactly what I am going to rant against in a second.  Be wary of this one!  But it is important too.

Statistical Problem #1: Never Believe a Point Estimate If you take (my) Stats101 class, and hopefully anybody else’s similar course, one thing that should be a key takeaway is “NEVER BELIEVE A POINT ESTIMATE.”  That’s huge.  Never.  Believe.  A.  Point.  Estimate.

So, for the people who haven’t had a Stats class recently, what is a point estimate?

When you see something like “an estimated 2.2 million Americans will die from the coronavirus if action is not taken,” that “2.2 million” is a point estimate.  It is a single point.  And point estimates are a hallmark of bad reporting of often bad science.  In statistics, any time we make an estimate, we generate a confidence interval: that is, the range around which we believe that estimate to be actually correct.  This is because we don’t measure everybody; we measure a small sample, and use math to make estimates.  Since we didn’t measure everybody, there is some degree of uncertainty, and so we calculate a range that we think is very likely to contain the actual number.  This is called a confidence interval.  The wider the confidence interval, the LESS confident you are.  The narrower the confidence interval, the more confident you are.

An example.  The New York Yankees hit 306 home runs last year, and had 5561 at-bats over 162 games, meaning they hit a home run about once every 20 at-bats.  Let’s say I believe the season will be cut in half (so, 81 games instead of 162).  So, I want to know how many home runs the Yankees will hit in this shortened season.  Let’s work through several examples.

The worst example (okay, not actually the absolute worst, because I could just guess, but pretty bad). In half the games, the Yankees will hit half the home runs.  So that’s 306/2, so that’s 153.

Here’s another BAD example, but it does look legit, doesn’t it? Half of 162 is 81.  So in half the games, they will have half the at-bats, so that’s 2780.5 at-bats.  They hit a home run previously in 5.5026% of their at-bats, and 5.5062% of 2780.5 is 153.  The Yankees will hit 153 home runs next year.

A much better example The Yankees averaged 1.8888 home runs a game (306 / 162) last season.  If we take the low-end of 1.5 home runs per game (or three home runs every two games), and a high end of 2.25 home runs per game (or 9 home runs every 4 games), we expect the Yankees to hit between 121.5 and 182.25 home runs in the shortened 81 game season.

Is there a perfect example? No.  This is a great question.  Introductory statistics students will start to add all sorts of great considerations to this question: in the shortened season, won’t pitchers have less time to get warmed up, so home runs will go up?  But the same is true for batters, so home runs might go down?  If the shortened season starts later, and is played in more colder weather, are there fewer home runs?  How did the Yankees roster change?  Are they playing against more fly-ball or ground-ball pitchers?  Who changed in the rotations of the teams they will play most?  Will the rule change about facing three batters or the end of an inning increase the amount of home runs?  What about conditioning of athletes who are homebound?  No statistical estimate can take into account all factors.  And we don’t try to.  We just play the games and then call it history. So, what are the problems with the “much better example” besides not adding in all those other things? There is nothing wrong with it, it is just not very precise.  A range between 121.5 and 182.25 is more than 60, which is basically half of the low-end.  We could be like, 50% wrong from our low end and still be in the range!  That’s not very precise!

So, what does this have to do with the current issues? Mostly, I want you to very carefully consider any number you hear without a confidence interval.  If you hear a number like “2.2 million,” realize that without a stated confidence interval, the interval could be ANYTHING.  Something like, oh, I don’t know... 2.199 million.  Yep.  In other words, the only thing you could take away from that number is “anywhere between 1 person and 5 million people.  And how much are you willing to give up for that particular risk?

Statistical Problem #2: Confidence Intervals WITHIN models So, to this point, hopefully I’ve described all the things that can go wrong if you don’t use a confidence interval in your ANSWER.  But what about in the MODEL (or the prediction) itself?  Let’s say that, in the above example, we wanted to know how many home runs the Yankees will hit, and we know that MLB will shorten the season.  But we don’t know by how much.

So, let’s say that I estimate the season will be between 60 and 100 games.  That’s a pretty big margin.  Using my earlier estimates, now my confidence interval expands again: 1.5 x 60 for the low end is only 90 home runs, and 2.25 x 100 is 225 home runs!  Now my range is [60:225].  That is VERY imprecise!

The important part is that this problem compounds each time we don’t know something.  You get a wider and wider range, the less you know.  So, the more you want to put into a formula, the more you need to know... and the less you know, the wider your estimate.

Statistical Problem #3: The Missing Denominator None of the math here is particularly difficult, especially with the aid of computers and a bit of training.  So, if somebody is presenting it to you like it is super complex, think of them like a stage magician: distract, watch the glitter, and you will never notice my hand pulling the pigeon out of my coat pocket and putting it into my hat.

So, what have models been hiding from you?

The big missing piece is the denominator, or in this case, “how many people have the virus.”  That’s a VERY important number.  We need several things to build an epidemiological model, and without even an estimate of “how many people have it,” then all the rest of this is pretty much pointless.  This is because “how many people have it” is needed for at least the following: 1) Transmission Rate 2) Infection Rate 3) Fatality Rate

Luckily... we’re actually getting close to having that number!  Or at least, a confidence interval for that number.

Understanding recent data

https://www.medrxiv.org/content/10.1101/2020.04.14.20062463v1.full.pdf

Basically, that paper says that in one county with a lot of cases, they estimate there are somewhere between 2.49% and 4.16% of the population infected, and they wouldn’t be surprised if those numbers are between 1.80% and 5.70%.  There are about 1.93 MILLION people in Santa Clara county.  1,930,000, and between 2.49 and 4.16 are ALREADY infected. So, let’s math that out, and I’m using their narrower confidence interval here.

Low End (2.49%): 48057 already infected High End (4.16): 80288 already infected.

So, now we have an actual denominator!  Or at least, RANGES of one.  They’re pretty confident the actual number is somewhere between those.

The date is important here.  The data here is April 1.  That range (48000-80000) the number of infected people as of April 1.  As of April 17th (over two weeks later), Santa Clara had reported 73 deaths.  63 of those had one comorbidity, and only 5 had no comorbidities.  Here’s the source.

https://www.sccgov.org/sites/covid19/Pages/dashboard.aspx

So, what’s the fatality rate?

LOW pop prev: No comorbidities: 5 / 48000 = .0001041666. LOW: One or no comorbidities: 68 / 48000 = .00141666 HIGH pop prev: No comorbidities: 5 / 80200 = .000062344 HIGH: One or no comorbidities: 68 / 80200 = .00084788

We’ll go broad here, and assume one comorbidity.  Hey, a lot of us have something that is an issue, right?  But let’s apply those number to the American Population of approximately 330,000,000 people.

LOW (zero or one comorbidity) pop prev: 330mil * .00141666 = 467,497.8 HIGH (zero or one comorbidity) pop prev: 330mil * .00084788 = 279,800.4

There’s your number.  WOW, you say!  Wow!  A QUARTER TO HALF A MILLION PEOPLE MIGHT DIE!  That seems shocking!

It is, super shocking.  Remember, that’s the zero-case scenario.  The scenario where we do nothing.  Worst-case.  No vaccine, no medication, no treatment, no social distancing, nada.

Oh, let’s go ahead and go over some other numbers.  Not scenarios, actual data.

Motor Vehicle Deaths (2018): 36,560 Medical Error Deaths (2011): Between 210,000 and 400,000 https://journals.lww.com/journalpatientsafety/Fulltext/2013/09000/A_New,_Evidence_based_Estimate_of_Patient_Harms.2.aspx Accidents (2017): 169,936 Diabetes (2017): 83,564 Influenza/Pneumonia (2017): 55,672 Suicide/Self-harm complications: 47,173 https://www.cdc.gov/nchs/fastats/deaths.htm

((Note, because somebody will inevitably ask: The “Death by Guns” rate is a tough one to count, because the majority of gun deaths are also suicides.  The Gun Homicide+Accident fatality rate is likely between about 10,000 and 13,000 per year (about a third of the car accident fatality rate).  If you’re interested in that number, be sure to look at the data split by category, or if you are interpreting suicides with guns in your gun death count, just be explicit about it, don’t be a pigeon-holding magician.))

Interpretation: Doing nothing at all, we would expect Covid to jump the rates of Influenza/Pneumonia deaths from 7th to 3rd in America, with somewhere between about 340,000 and 530,000 deaths.  I arrive at that number by adding 60,000 to the estimates above, for other non-Covid related Flu/Influenza deaths.  That would put Influenza/Pneumonia above the estimates of death due to medical errors, and well behind the two leading causes of death in the US (CVD and Cancer).  This is provided that there is no emergent medical option.

So, what’s the downside?  Why not do all these drastic things (like shelter-in-place orders and be forced to shut down your business) if it prevents between 1/4 and 1/2 of a million deaths? That’s a good question!  The point here is that orders have consequences, and most of them are unknown at the time of the order.  For example, let’s take a pretty simple policy: requiring every driver to car insurance.  Seems like a fundamental thing, right?  Well, now you’ve also driven the price of car ownership up.  More rural areas (which are often poorer) now have an additional cost burden, that is not shared by people who live in major cities with large public transportation networks.  And you’ve created a secondary market (insurance agents) who now have incentives to raise prices, and huge potential for collusion.  And what about people who defy that order?  Well, that’s tricky-- in some places there are additional policies for covering wrecks involving uninsured drivers, and in those places, car insurance costs more.  So you’re paying more, out of your pocket, because somebody else didn’t follow a policy.  And that means you have less money to go shopping or go out to eat, which means fewer people at stores have jobs.  All of this ties together.

So, what are the unintentional consequences of the shelter-in-place and business-shuttering orders?  The most obvious ones are the losses of income, including jobs, and the 10 million accompanying jobless claims.  But is that such a big problem?  Think about what is happening in homes without jobs... and remember, you are still legally required to pay car insurance.  So that’s the direct one.

But there are multitudes of indirect ones.  For example, this is not an academic article, but...

https://www.usatoday.com/story/news/investigations/2020/03/21/coronavirus-pandemic-could-become-child-abuse-pandemic-experts-warn/2892923001/

And remember, a lot of children who are subject of abuse are from low-income families.  And what did they normally get?  Free and reduced-price lunch at schools.  Now, they aren’t getting those.  Sure, in a few places here and there, some schools are delivering similar meals.  But the vast, vast majority of elementary and high-school aged students on free/reduced lunches are not getting them.  So that leaves parents (or caretakers) to pick up the burden.  Those same parents and caretakers who are filing the 10 million unemployment claims.  Uh-oh.  Sounds stressful.

Guess what stress does to people?  It makes them sick.  And you know what happens when you get an ulcer?  Hopefully not much, but bad ones can end you up in a hospital.  Where there are many procedures, but most of them minor.  Unfortunately, hospitals right now are being forbidden from doing elective surgeries.  And elective surgeries helped pay for other services, like necessary surgeries and emergency care.  So, the ER is literally understaffed, even in regions where there are no COVID patients, because the state has forbidden the tummy tucks that pay the salaries of ER nurses.

You see the tumble here?  This is where I cautioned earlier about the slippery slope argument, and it is an absolutely valid critique of what I’m putting here.  But we’ve gone past speculation territory and are now in data territory.  And (again, work in health care education), I know some people who are starting to see these effects.  One of the faculty at my school (teaches our Law course) is a lawyer for a rural hospital service.  He has watched them lay off or furlough over 60% of workers.  And they have had... wait for it... 0 covid cases.  The few that were suspected, they flew down to a much larger hospital.  At high cost, because they can’t charge for COVID services.

Meanwhile, you’re talking a rural system that was one of the top employers in four different counties.  Laying off or furloughing 60% of workers.  The guy was so upset telling me about this that he almost cried, especially because he knew the families of so many of the people his board had just let go.

Any caveats to add? The big caveat that I place on the interpretation here (basically, that’s we’ve VASTLY oversold the risk of this thing) is that we don’t know about secondary infections.  If you can get infected twice, and that second infection is harmful or make you able to spread the disease to others who are then harmed, then all these numbers are too low. Bottom-line it for me, WT. Fear leads to the dark side, where you have no freedoms.  Don’t give up things because you were scared and because somebody showed you a point of data that you should not believe.

[mslanna]

This Is The Best Day Ever

I started a modern day Witcher AU and I don’t think it’ll go anywhere. So have a start if you like. Jaskier has an emo punk band and Ciri drags her dad along as chaperone to see them...

"Dad!" Cirilla wailed in indignation. "I am almost fourteen! I can go to a concert on my own."

"Over my dead body." Geralt crossed his arms. The he looked his wife. Yennefer's grin said clearly that she would not be the one accompanying Ciri.

"Alright. I'll get us tickets."

"You will only embarrass me," Ciri objected.

"He won't," Yennefer assured her. "Your dad is too tall to stand in the first row with you. So he will be a good boy and keep at the side."

"Are you sure?" Ciri was not convinced.

"Or we all just stay at home," Geralt offered.

"No." Ciri decided instantaneously. "Oh my god, I don't know what to wear! I need to call Dara right now."

Geralt watched his daughter rush from the room, hand already groping for her mobile. "I hope you know what you are doing," he said to his wife.

"Of course I am." Yennefer smiled and kissed him on the cheek. "After all it is not I who is going to an emo punk concert with our daughter."

Geralt grunted. She had him there.

                                        *            *                *

Looking over the crowd streaming into the venue, Geralt was regretting his decision already. There was way too much black for a crowd that age and way to few parents. As soon as he had made sure Cirilla know hoe to signal to him to get her out of the crowd, the girl had run off. Now and then he could see her blonde curls bopping up in the crowd trying to squeeze three hundred people into the first row.

Had he known what kind of music Buttercups, Almost Dandelions made, he would have taken steps to ensure Cirilla did not get into that. Now he and Yennefer had to put a foot down to keep her from dyeing her hair black.

There was nowhere to get a drink and nowhere to sit down either. Grumbling Geralt stood at the side of the hall, leaning against the bare wall. The noise wasn't as bad as expected. The supporting act was doing okay taking into consideration that the whole hall was full of people who had come to see somebody else entirely.

The moment the lights went out in anticipation of the main act, the noise did turn out unbearable. No more concerts without era plugs, Geralt decided. He would have to think of a way Ciri could not remove them though. He grunted.  Something to occupy his mind with for the next hour.

If one could think over this noise that was. A single spotlight had come up, raising the pitch of the screaming at least one octave.

Then a sliver of a person stepped into the light and caused the noise-death of the universe. It was probably Mr Buttercup himself. Again, Geralt would have expected a little more yellow on the guy. With his elaborate outfit, he would have been at home on any gothic ren fair. Dark hair hung into his eyes, black outlined the eyes heavily.

The general screaming slowly converged into a coherent chant of 'Jaskier'. The man on the stage smiled slightly and stummed a minor chord. The hall fell silent in a heart beat.

"Hello," Jaskier smiled into the microphone, lips almost touching the metal. His hand came up from the guitar, cupping the microphone with the plectrum between his index finger and thumb. "How are you feeling tonight?"

It was an invitation for the maelstrom of noise to return. Geralt prodded his right ear, trying to hold on to a shred of his sense of hearing. He needn't have bothered. A lazy chord later the stage lit up with more spot lights, revealing the remainder of the bouquet and the music started for real.

If you wanted to call it music. If you could actually discern any of it from the tapestry of screaming it was fighting against. Geralt hoped Cirilla had better acoustics in the front row with fewer screaming teenagers between her and the band. He doubted it.

Jaskier knew how to handle a crowd though. Even if it was a crowd of hormone-addled teenagers. The singer managed to quite them all down for a slow number about lonely white wolves. Quite a feat. Ignoring the occasional howl imitation.

Geralt could have done with a few more ballads. The hall was almost bearably noisy and Jaskier actually had an agreeable singing voice. He was admittedly difficult to hear above the roaring crowd.

Geralt wondered how Ciri was doing in the squash zone. But so far she hadn't signalled for extraction. She was probably so high on hormones that reality would take a day or two to get back through to her. Such was life. Adolescence happened only once. Something to be grateful for, no doubt.

The concert dragged on. Geralt did his best to no peer at his watch. He certainly didn't stop tapping the beat guiltily with a foot. Taking the overall youth music scene into consideration, this could have gone a lot worse.

The last song came on. Geralt applauded because it was finally over. The audience disagreed vocally. Waves of noise broke against the stage, taking bodies with it. Medics kept pulling people from the crowd. The lights did not go on. With a sigh Geralt resigned to the encore. And the second encore which led to the crowd howling the song about the wolf again and which got them a third encore.

Geralt peered at his watch after all and had to realise he hadn't lost as much time of his life as he had thought. The crowd was bouncing in unison, accelerating towards a shattering crescendo. He didn't wait for that when a familiar figure was lifted over the heads of the fans, drifting towards the medics. Long blonde locks trailed behind her.

Getting to the front of the hall, even at the very side was difficult. Small bodies blocked the way and there was no way to push them aside without risking serious damage. Cirilla was carried away to the other side of the stage, too. Cursing, Geralt reversed direction. He was just getting to where he had been on the other side of the hall, when the lights did come on. That did not actually convince the audience to scatter appropriately or make his way towards the stage any easier.

By the time he reached the barricade, all medical personnel had vanished. Reaching out, Geralt grabbed the next stage hand passing by. "Where are the children?"

The stage hand understood without needing further encouragement. He pointed to a door a little further down the hall. But when Geralt started to move in that direction, he did try to stop him. "You can't go backstage," he said valiantly.

"Yeah?" Geralt tilted his head. "Watch me."

To the horror of everybody watching, he climbed over the barricade, storming off to the indicated. A security man approaching him was grabbed by the arm. "Good," Geralt growled. "You know the way to medical. I want my daughter. Now."

After a few turns, Geralt suspected that this was not the way to the medical part at all. Shoving the security guard away with a frustrated grunt, he stormed back down the corridor. Signs would have been helpful. Maybe they had been taken down again already.

Judging from the steps speeding up behind him, the security guard had decided to take up pursuit. Geralt stepped it up a notch, turning around a few corners in the hopes of finally finding the medic and maybe losing the tail.

A door opened and another small black figure stepped into his path. Geralt pushed it away. At least he tried to, only to find his hand taken hold off, trapped neatly on the chest it had pushed against.

"Now if that isn't my song come to life," Jaskier said agreeably. He waved the guard away lazily giving Geralt a second once-over.

Geralt snorted. "Where is my daughter?"

"I have not taken on any daughters," the singer replied easily. "But when we find her, I might be open to a few grateful words."

"Useless," Geralt growled, barely keeping from rolling his eyes.

"Says the man with a hammer to the screw," Jaskier said.

"What do you want?"

"I?" The singer laughed. "It was you who barraged into my place, laying hand on me. Let's get that correct for starters."

"I am only looking for my daughter." Geralt freed his hand.

"And if you stopped your boorish behaviour for just long enough to let me take the lead, I am certain we would have arrived where the medics put up care long ago." Jaskier began to walk slowly, giving Geralt time to make up his mind. "You realise there is a central information point in front of the hall where you can get escorted to you daughter if she's in medical care, right?"

Geralt grunted non-committal.

"Of course this is the much more scenic route," Jaskier kept the conversation going as if Geralt was actually participating. "You get to see me after all. A much more charming company than a medical escort."

Another snort.

"You are most eloquent. A pity that our journey shall soon come to an end. Allow me to write a song about it."

Geralt stopped short, forcing the smaller man to take a step back under the force of the index finger rammed into his chest. "Don't you dare." Taking a deep breath he stepped back. The only thing worthy of song way Cirilla and his wife. But he would certainly not encourage the obnoxious. fool.

"You're right." Jaskier puled at his black shirt. "I'd never get all those elaborate grunts right."

Geralt took another deep breath and forced a neutral expression. "I will now get-"

"Your daughter, yes yes," Jaskier interrupted. "She should be here any moment now. I had sent for her."

"You what?"

"It's my place for tonight." Jaskier winked. "Has to have a few perks."

At that very moment, light footfall became audible down the corridor and around a corner.

"Ciri?" Geralt called ignoring Jaskier who was still explaining something.

"Dad!" Cirilla bounded around the corner towards her father.

He softened visibly. Seeing his daughter well and happy brought a lenient expression to his face. The love for his Ciri was written over Geralt's face in warm, fuzzy letters of insurmountable size.

At his side, Jaskier fell silent.

In the corridor, Cirilla stopped in mid-step. "Dad?" Her eyes wandered from her father to the singer standing next to him, a whirlwind of emotions crossing over her whole figure.

"Well, the family resemblance is obviously," Jaskier squinted, "somewhere."

"Dad?" Cirilla asked, the question dripping from her gaze into her tone.

"Oh, that, yeah." Geralt shrugged. "He ran into me when I was looking for you. Can't shake him." Geralt chose to ignore the indignant gasp from Jaskier as well as the unbelieving one from his daughter.

"That is-" Ciri couldn't finish.

"Yeah. Oh, right." Geralt put on the barest minimum of manners. "Jaskier, this is my daughter Cirilla. Ciri, this, well Jaskier. Does he have a last name? Do you have a last name? Do we need that?"

"Pleased to meet you," Cirilla got out.

Jaskier took the offered hand with a bow indicating a kiss on the back of it. "I can see your father passed on all his eloquence and manners to you."

Ciri blushed and caught between the urge to hid behind her father and bravely stand where she was, clutched at his side. Geralt dropped a protective arm over her shoulders automatically.

"We must leave," he growled pointedly.

"Oh, there you are again with no manners at all." Jaskier huffed. "Tell you father that this is very bad manners indeed, Cirilla. We have only just met and there he goes leaving already. Is he always impossible like that? I bet he is."

Ciri nodded a teenagers awareness of their parent's inherent cringyness on her expression.

"Her mother is waiting for us."

"Oh and now he is blaming it all on you mother." Jaskier lowered his tone consiprationally. "Does your mother know he does that?"

Ciri giggled and nodded.

"Well, that's probably okay then. And we will not leave her waiting. You go to the entrance," he waved in the general direction behind him, "and I'll be there in a moment. Decide on the take-out you want."

"We will certainly not have take-out for dinner or with you." Geralt put his foot down. It helped that he did not see Ciri's face.

"Rude," Jaskier replied.

Ciri nodded and took a brave step away from her father. "But he did buy me a guitar," she finally said, after fishing for a redeeming trait.

"So you are playing the guitar?" Jaskier asked Cirilla. "We must have a jam session then!"

"It is half past ten," Geralt cut the idea off.

"True." Jaskier's shoulders slumped shortly before he brightened suspiciously. "We will have to do that another time then, won't we?"

It was most dirty manoeuvre Geralt had ever seen. But the way Ciri's eyes lit up at the mere thought of playing guitar with her musical hero. Who would have the heart to quench that light?

"Take out is still standing, though," the singer said taking Cirilla's hand. "What do you feel like and where do you get it in this city?" When they reached Geralt, Jaskier just took the tall man's hand as well and kept walking. "As I said, wait at the entrance, security is informed. What do you think about Italian?"

"Why not." Ciri looked up at her father.

Geralt was a walking storm cloud, held in check by nothing but his daughter's elation. "I do not think that will help with me being upset."

"Maybe it will do something about you being so depressing?" Jaskier took a step backwards, putting Cirilla's hand into that of her father. "I'll be only a moment."

A few steps later, Cirilla had found the joke and started laughing.

"I'll call Yen and give her a heads up," Geralt rumbled, knowing he was beaten.