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eijishimas · 3 years

Text

midnight snack.

18+ nsfw content, minors dni. all characters are aged up.

masterlist.

content warnings: oral sex (f!receiving), penetrative sex, unprotected sex (use protection irl pls!), quirk use (electro stimulation), a hint of overstim, & a sprinkle of degradation. f!reader.

notes: all i could think about while writing this was “and they were roommates! ohmygod they were roommates.” also thank u bria ( @rekiri ) & sun ( @kiridarling ) for keeping me sane while writing this, ily both <3

wc: 3.0k

You rarely got hungry in the middle of the night. You usually went to bed full of food cooked by yourself or ordered takeout by your roommate, Denki. Tonight was different, however. You had been working on a project, one that was taking up far too much of your time due to your incompetent group members causing you to pick up the slack. You had been stressed beyond belief lately because of them. Maybe a small stretch would help clear your mind, you reasoned to yourself internally. While you were at it, a midnight snack wouldn’t be too bad. It would help ease your nerves, even. You stood from your desk, stretching your arms above your head and cracking the joints of your shoulders. Now exiting your room, you threw a glance across the hallway to see the light under your roommate’s door was still on. Of course he was staying up again, when did he not? Probably off playing video games with the guys again.

You yawned, bare feet pattering against the hardwood of your apartment floor on your way to the kitchen. You shivered, wearing only a cropped sweater you had thrifted and a pair of your comfiest shorts. So what if they were a little short on you, they did the job of keeping you comfy while you slept. No one besides Denki saw you in them, mostly because you wore them to bed. Opening the fridge door, you cringed at the harsh lighting hitting you square in the face. You bent over, eyes scanning the bottom shelf for something to pique your interest. Since you figured Denki was in his room, you didn’t bother to bend your knees while you were searching for your snack.

“Uh- I uh, whatcha lookin’ for?” Denki’s voice cracked slightly. What were the odds? Your head whipped up so fast from the fridge, you nearly knocked into the door of it. Your face began to overheat as you saw your roommate standing there in his pyjamas, fighting off his own blush as he looked at you. Had he seen how your shorts rode up your ass, giving the perfect view of the lace black panties you had been wearing that night? Maybe. The answer was most definitely a yes, but he wasn’t going to admit that to you. He really didn’t want to die by your hands.

“I was, well I was grabbing some water,” you fumbled for your words as Denki approached you, moving around the bar counter of your apartment to peer into the fridge himself from behind you. His hair was damp, sticking to his forehead indicating that he had just hopped out of the shower. No kidding, he had used your fruit passion shampoo along with lemon scented body wash again. You felt his hot breath on the back of your neck from how close he was to you, your tongue wetting your lips as you tried to ease your building nerves. You were never so nervous around him, he was your roommate and your best friend. The two of you had always been comfortable around each other.

You stood perfectly still, razor focused on the fruit cup on the top shelf to distract your mind that was buzzing with electricity. He smelled so good. He felt awfully warm. And he was incredibly close to you, so much so that you could hear his own inner monologue if you listened hard enough. You were so caught up in your thoughts that your mind barely registered that his hands were sitting comfortably on your waist. “Hey,” Denki spoke up, “Did you wear that for me?”

Processing his words, there was a tiny heat that began to burn low in your stomach. “I’m sorry?” you squeaked out.

“The black lacy ones. The ones that make me want to eat you out on the counter until you’re screaming. Did you wear those for me?” his voice was low, whispering deliciously into your ear. Sinful thoughts were clouding your mind, your previous intentions of getting a snack now lost to the idea of possibly choking on something else entirely tonight. “Denki—” His hands slipped beneath your shirt, stopping just below your breasts. You were starting to feel something hard poking at the cheek of your ass. Your breath hitched, thighs clenching together in an attempt to tame the growing heat between them. The two of you had been dancing around the notion of having feelings for each other for a long time.

You tried to look the other way every time he would stare at you for just a small bit longer than he should. He pretended to not notice the way you sat so very close to him, despite the entire couch being free. The way your fingertips brushed his thighs when you leaned over him to grab the remote. The way his touch lingered on your hip when he went to pass behind you while you cooked dinner together, his palms warm and jittery. Everything clicked together so perfectly for the two of you, it was beginning to become undeniable and almost comical at this point.

Tonight only made you more desperate for some type of release, since all of the previous tension between the two of you had crescendoed into Denki moulding his lips to your neck and sucking deep purple marks in a lovely pattern against your hot skin. Your legs felt weak, a strained moan escaping you. Between the cool air of the open fridge and his hands exploring your torso, it felt like heaven. His fingers pinched and pulled at your nipples eagerly, his name falling off your tongue as if second nature. You wanted him bad. And he wanted nothing more than to strip you of your clothes and have you right there in the kitchen.

Your legs quivered as he touched you, allowing yourself to lean back against him and succumb to his affection. “I’ve been waiting to do this for so long, baby,” the confidence radiating off the blond was dripping right into his tone. It made more of that liquid heat manifest in your lower half. You were quite certain that those lacy black panties Denki had been talking about now had a wet patch from all of his ministrations. His hands kept massaging at your breasts, small whimpers leaving your lips as you whispered out how you needed more from him. You panted, craning your neck to the side to give him more access to your skin. Your hips seemed to move on their own as you wiggled your ass right up against his prominent hard on. “Fuck,” he swore, fingers dipping into your shorts and past the waistline of your underwear to feel your slick. You were soaking from his touches, thighs shaking and fingers finding purchase in blond locks as his finger pad grazed your aching clit. “More,” you whined with need, “I wanna.. I wanna touch you, please.”

Denki’s mind felt like it was melting. Was this a dream? He never wanted to wake up if that was the case. He inserted a finger into your core, heart fluttering upon hearing you moan out for him again. Your walls hugged his single digit, his dick twitching at the sensation. You were feeling unbearably sensitive for some reason that night, the way his thumb drew circles around your clit paired with his finger reaching within you made your head light. “You’re so greedy, look at you fucking yourself on my fingers. Moaning like that for me. From how much you walk around like a little slut, you had this coming,” Denki nibbled at the lobe of your ear before adding a second digit, curling his fingers and further sending you into your pleasure. “Denki,” you called out again, head tossed against his shoulder, ass rubbing right against his dick in ways that made his head spin. “You’re so wet, do you hear that? Holy fuck, I can’t wait to taste you,” Denki’s words made the coil inside the pit of your stomach snap, your first orgasm of the night finally washing over you as you clenched around his fingers. It took all of Denki’s willpower not to cum in his boxers right then and there. Falling against him for support, your hips lazily rolled against his digits to ride out your high.

“Up on the counter babe, we’re not done yet. I’m still feeling a bit hungry,” he murmured into your ear. The two of you backed away from the fridge, leaving the door open to allow some light in the darkened kitchen. You turned to face him, seeing a bit of a loopy smile on his face despite his lust blown pupils. You wasted no time in connecting your lips, tongue sliding into his mouth with ease. Your body pressed his against the cool granite of the counter, his hands drifting lower down your back to meet the flesh of your ass. He tapped your ass a couple times, his fingers pinching at the fabric of your thin shorts. “You won’t be needing these,” he chuckled deeply against your lips. His drop in octave made you shiver. Your own hands mapped out his body, feeling across his abs that he prided himself on as a pro-hero while your other went right for his cock.

Your excited fingers pulled down his gray sweatpants along with his boxers, his cock springing free from its confines. There was a lovely amount of precum beading atop his reddening head, your thumb swirling the natural lube around his tip. The action elicited a groan from the blond, grabbing a bit harder at your ass. You were gentle, teasing even, your eyes glazed over in lust as your hand pumped his dick at a slow tempo. Denki’s hips began to fuck into your hand, his chest heaving as he took this time to shed himself of his t-shirt. He felt entranced by how your fingers looked so delicate fisting his cock, breath hitching in his throat as your wrist rolled with each stroke of his dick. “Do you know how— fuck — how long I’ve waited for this?” Denki’s words are gentle, his neck craning back down to nip at your exposed skin.

“Too long?”

“Way too long.”

You giggled and he groaned, a low rumble against your soft skin that makes you shiver yet again. You smirked with amusement as you felt him pulse in your hand, yet Denki pulled away from your touch just as you were about to tip him over the line to his own orgasm. “You, you first,” he told you, golden eyes trained on yours, “I like seeing you come undone for me.”

A whimper escaped you, his grin hungry with want for you and only you. “Let’s see how good you taste,” he pressed a final kiss to your lips as he eagerly dropped to his knees. With a shy look in your eyes, you allowed your legs to spread, giving Denki a full view of your pretty pussy. He was practically salivating, eyes taking in your wet sex with a strange fire lit behind them. He was eating good tonight. With your fingers threading in his hair and tugging lightly, he took it as his signal to go. You sucked in a gasp of surprise as something cool touched your already slick entrance. Oh, you had forgotten that Denki had a fucking tongue piercing.

Instinctively, your thighs started to close around Denki’s head. He held them open with ease, the metal ball of his piercing following the tip of his tongue as he happily traced your entrance. “Denki,” you huffed, growing frustrated at his languid pace. For a man who seemed rather eager, he was going very slowly. Denki hummed in response, lips now attached to your clit and you felt your body jolt at the feeling. Fuck. Maybe you should have bit your tongue instead. Channeling electricity through his quirk, you felt a shock emitted from the tiny piece of metal in his mouth to your aching clit. “Denki!” you moaned, eyelids fluttering as you struggled to keep your gaze on him. Your hands kept pulling at his semi-damp hair, rutting your hips as best as you could into his face as your heart beat rapidly in your chest. You felt ten times hotter than you did when you first entered the kitchen, your hands expelling your own sleep shirt to the floor as Denki moaned at the sight of your exposed tits. This gave him the opportunity to push his tongue into your pussy, your toes curling at the sensation of his tongue entering your heat. He had his fun, darting his tongue in and out of you as he kept moaning to keep up the tiny vibrations. Moving his bangs away from his eyes, you could only watch as he ate you out with his skilled muscle.

His tongue reached deeper inside of you, his hands holding your thighs apart firmly as they were threatening to clamp around his head with more force. You hadn’t anticipated that Denki would be this fucking good with his mouth. Your inner walls squeezed around him, your moans picking up in volume. Your nipples were peaked, your back arched and your head thrown back as all you could do was continuously grind your hips against his face. This only edged the blond further, his nose stimulating your swollen clit as his tongue delved as far as it could into your dripping cunt. You nearly screamed his name as you were finally tipped over the edge, your chest heaving as Denki suckled at your sensitive lower lips. He drank your essence happily, your body prickling with heat as he drew back to watch in awe at how your pussy fluttered invitingly around nothing. He was drunk on the feeling of you cumming on his mouth. You two were definitely doing that again.

As you steadily regulated your breathing, Denki slowly got up from his position on the floor. Wiping away a bit of your cum from the corner of his mouth, he threw you another grin. You swallowed dryly, “Need you.”

“What was that, baby?”

“Need you, Den. I need you in.. Please.” Your eyes were begging him to give you more. You had seen how much his cock had been leaking onto the kitchen floor, practically throbbing between his legs from not having given release. With a cheeky sort of smile, Denki gave you a kiss to your cheek before settling his lips to the shell of your ear. “Whatever you say, babe.”

In an instant, you were swept off the counter, your body being caged between the closed freezer door and Denki holding you up from beneath your thighs. His cock fell heavy against your stomach, twitching in its desperation for attention. The light emitting from the open door of the fridge illuminated the right half of the electric blond’s face, his expression lustful and giddy in the harsh LED lighting. It made your heart buzz with anticipation, your body tensing as he eased the head of his cock past your folds. Your hands scrambled for his shoulders, fingernails leaving red crescents along his creamy skin. Denki’s eyes were on you, his breathing irregular as you wasted no time in pulling out and thrusting back in with confidence. His lips swallowed your moans, the wet, lewd sounds of your fucking adding more tinder to the heat now coiling in the pit of your stomach for the third time tonight. “Please,” you begged, practically trembling from overstimulation as Denki rocked you into the cool aluminum of the freezer door.

“Please what, baby?” the playfulness in his tone didn’t match the serious manner in which he kept pistoning into you, chasing his own release as your slick from previous orgasms now coated his cock and ran down his thighs. Each time he went in, he angled himself right up to meet that special spot inside you to make you see tiny specks of white dot your vision. “I- I, ah! Denki!” Fingers now grasping at his hair again, you yanked harshly as you came around his pulsing cock for the third and final time, squeezing him snugly as you desperately attempted to catch your breath. There was a tingly sensation running through your legs starting from your thighs, numbing and electric as Denki kept up his quick pace to chase his own release, groaning dirty praises into your ear that made you keen. Your legs wrapped around his waist, urging him to go deeper and finish inside of you. His hips met yours for one last time, stuttering as he pumped his sticky cum into your abused hole. You two stayed there for a moment, you letting out quiet giggles as Denki took his time in getting the air back into his lungs. He let you down steadily from the position you had been in, making sure to hold you up since the feeling was still a bit lost in your legs.

“Wow that was,” Denki paused, struggling to find the right word for the situation you two had caught yourselves in. “Satisfying,” you finished for him, to which he blushed deeply. The smile he flashed you was earnest and relieved, if he was being quite honest. “Ah, nice! Let’s get you something to eat, maybe a cheese string. But definitely water!”

“I’m actually feeling pretty full right now in terms of cheese. Thanks for that, Den.”

“Wait really?” Denki questioned as he swept his boxers along with his shirt off the kitchen floor, his concern showing through his furrowed brow, “Not even for a cheese string?”

A deadpan look crossed your face, sighing as you gave in to your dumbass of a roommate. “One cheese string.”

“Bet!”

Needless to say, post sex activities consisted of a hot shower, the second Shrek movie, and two cheese strings (per Denki’s request). Not a bad way to relieve your stress, you concluded to yourself happily as you snuggled closer to your roommate, fingers intertwined beneath the blanket as you allowed yourself to slip into a comfortable slumber against Denki’s shoulder.

all works © eijishimas 2021. do not reuse, modify, or repost.

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barbaracleboy · 3 years

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So, because I’ve been seeing a few different takes and opinions on Vi’s relationship with The Hive, I thought that maybe I could give my take on it too, because why not? Please keep in mind that I’m a little stupid, and I tend to not dig deep when analyzing things: I like watching or reading in-depth analyses, but I tend to think about stories or gameplay mechanics largely on what I can see, and I don’t think that hard about the complexities or realities or whatever of most things. So forgive me if many of my points are obvious, or if some of what I say isn’t that well-thought out or anything like that. Also, as always, I have absolutely zero intention to insult anybody or tell them they’re viewing the game wrong: we all view things differently, and I thought it’d be nice if I talk a little about how I viewed Vi’s story, if for no other reason than to just explain why I say or draw or do what I do. With that in-mind, hopefully my analysis isn’t too simple or whatever…

Vi didn’t like The Hive, we know this. The reasons she gives, if I remember, are mainly that nobody believed in her dreams of being an explorer (and many made fun of her for it). With this “analysis” I wish to get into why I felt the Bees didn’t believe in Vi and why Vi said what she did.

To start off, the fact that The Hive discouraged Vi’s exploring, and the behavior of The Hive in a couple other ways, seems to be based on IRL beehives, and how Bees in general aren’t aggressive. As such, it could make sense that they didn't approve of the idea of one of their own going out to go exploring, potentially looking for trouble and getting themselves hurt. A more unique, in-universe reason also exists: Snakemouth Den. Now, while Snakemouth Den has also been known to be scary to the Ants, they had a reason not to discourage exploration: it held an artifact that the Ant Queen wanted. The Bees clearly didn’t care as much about the Sapling or anything that can help them obtain it (considering they used an artifact to make their factory and didn’t even know it), so when they heard of their kind going to Snakemouth Den and never coming back, their reaction was likely something like “Holy shit, stay away from that place and any place like it.” They didn’t want treasures or immortality (at least most of them didn’t), and if trying to get it meant death they’d rather stay away from it. Speaking of Queens, Bianca probably also plays a hand in why the Bees were so against Vi becoming an explorer. By Vi’s own admission Bianca is a pacifist, and that coupled with Bianca (trying to) treat her subjects more like her children than most Queens seem to points to the idea that she feels her little babees would be safer and happier at home than exploring. This care for safety can be seen as soon as and even before you enter The Hive: there’s a little room to scan for anything that could potentially be harmful to The Hive, and you can’t even enter without having a guard start the elevator for you. They clearly want danger as far away from them as possible. “Why does Bianca have a military if she’s a pacifist and cares for her kids’ safety, then?” Honestly, that’s a good question, and the best answer I have is that it’d be stupid not to have a defense force, especially in the Lost Sands (which are home to all sorts of Bandits and monsters) and with the close proximity to with The Wasps (who are known to usually be aggressive, and have particularly been so since some time before the start of the game). That’s not even getting into Vi being a teenager, which would probably further discourage The Hive from supporting her wanting to be an explorer: you should support the dreams of young people, but there’s a difference between a kid, I don’t know, wanting to be an engineer and wanting to be a bounty hunter. One is notably more dangerous (and probably less common) than the other, and while stomping on a kid’s dream is mean it’s perhaps better, in some scenarios, than encouraging them to do something that can get them killed. Hell, a large part of why Vi became as successful an explorer as she did was that she had a team to help her out, and she initially didn’t seem to want that. A young girl, in a society that cares a ton about being safe, trying to go off and fight monsters and bad guys on her own (probably just in the hopes of getting rich)? It’s no wonder her peers wouldn’t support that.

All that said, do I think Bees were justified in denying Vi her dream? That she should have just shut up and sucked it up? No, of course not. They clearly cared too much about safety, to the point that they let one of their own leave anyway due to her feeling so out of place for thinking differently. There was clearly a lack of empathy for her, and I highly doubt that their responses to Vi were all variations of “Now, now, don’t hurt yourself!”, there probably was a lot of teasing and even some bullying. Now, I don’t think Vi is invalid or wrong for leaving or being upset...but I also feel like she may not be too reliable a “Narrator”.

That’s not to say she was lying, that she never experienced anything bad in The Hive...but to be frank, she is a [bit of a stupid d:] teenager. She’s a little selfish, she’s a little reckless, and she probably said and did a lot of what she said and did due to big teen emotions. She talked about Bees like they were all bullies, and pompous, but does The Hive really give that impression? Do the Bees? When she returns almost none of them seem to bring up anything bad, they don’t seem to be making fun of her, there doesn’t seem to be any animosity towards her from them, despite how bad she tended to speak of them. ��Well, Vi probably didn’t know a lot of them, and vice versa.” That could very well be true, but most of the ones we see in-game seem to have experience with Vi: even ignoring all the ones that have a notable amount of screen time or mandatory dialogue, Vi seems to know multiple of them by name, and many of them know Vi’s name too, and if she’s been gone so long you’d think one would have forgotten the other unless they had spent a non-insignificant time together. She seems to have formed relationships with multiple bees, and while few if any of them were as close as the one she formed with Jaune they probably existed, it’s not like she got along with nobody but Jaune. The point I’m trying to make by talking about relationships is that you’d think there would be multiple Jaune-type situations, of Vi being very mad at one of the bees and vice versa, but that doesn’t seem to be the case. Vi’s anger is mostly general, she mostly talks crap about The Hive as a whole, while few if any of the bees seem to hold a grudge against her. This leads me to think that Vi makes a big deal about all the other bees bullying her out of hyperbole, and her emotions making her think the situation’s worse than it is: I mean, she claims that all bees are pompous, but really only Beette fits that description, right? And even Beette is noted to not be that bad, for selling you the key to the house of whatever (though personally I feel she still seemed pretty rude, but eh). Vi is very upset, to the point that she says things that aren’t entirely true and kind of throw multiple people under the bus (I know that type of anger, let me fuckin’ tell you). This anger, of course, comes because she was so close to Jaune, and enjoyed time with her more than any other Bee. I assume Vi was hoping Jaune would support that dream more than the other bees would, but when she didn’t Vi was really hurt, and in her anger she said bad things to everybody in The Hive and left. She probably wasn’t thinking about what she was saying or how leaving would affect her or whatever, she was just having angry teenage angst and she wanted out (having said that, you could totally make the argument that Jaune was a jerk for being so upset about a little insult, but again, eh). I feel like Vi might have even felt she was being irrational, at least deep down, but what she was feeling at the time of her leaving took priority. When Kabbu falls through the trapdoor in Snakemouth, Vi says something along the lines of “This is the perfect time to go home.” It’s probably a throwaway line, maybe I’m overthinking things for once, but what if that was her going “Okay, I know I said all that stuff but things are really bad now and I just wanna go home.” I can believe that, when I was young I said and tried to do some stupid things, but it didn’t take long before I decided to at least try to calm down, do something less intense maybe. I can believe that a kid like Vi would try something crazy in order to stick it to everyone who said she couldn’t, but would perhaps think twice upon seeing the dangers. Vi and Kabbu had barely spent any time in Snakemouth before he fell, so I imagine that when Vi saw there was some actual danger in exploring she at least briefly thought about how she behaved, thought that she might have been letting her emotions get the best of her, and considered going home where she probably was safe. Even if she didn’t intend go all the way back to The Hive, the point is that what she said and did when leaving could very well have been her just acting out in frustration. In the end it’s for the best that she continued with exploring (for a wide variety of reasons), but my point is that her initial push to do so came largely from that initial bout of frustration.

So, to make a long story short, I feel that The Hive cared very heavily about safety, for many reasons, and as such wished for Vi to not be an explorer for her own good. Things were not that bad for Vi, but when much of her society, including her closest sister, didn’t approve of what she wanted she threw somewhat of a fit and ran off, perhaps feeling that she was overreacting a little but being too young and headstrong to not do exactly what she wanted to do. Once again, my point here is not that The Hive was right, Vi was wrong. It’s more that the situation was complicated and bad, and both Vi and her peers had a lot to learn (which, in my opinion, they mostly did learn by the end of the main story).

I don’t know, I think a big part of why I go to bat for The Hive so much is that I very, very much value family. It’s kind of how I was raised, I feel that the people that share your blood, that likely live with you and likely care for you and likely know about you way more than most other people are special, and that the relationships with them are also special, so it’s best to try and keep things as good with them as possible. I’m not saying that you should be a slave to people, or you should take abuse from people, or that you should support bad behavior, all because those involved are related to you. I just feel that it’s important to try and understand the feelings of those you’re close to, and that (when fair and applicable) we should always try to have the best possible relationship with our family. Vi initially failed with both of these, and so did Jaune and many of the other bees.

To go on a little tangent, I think the family stuff is a big part of why I love The Hive as much as I do. With how many of the Bees seem to know each other (compared to the Ants, where there doesn’t seem to be much in the way of interactions implied or otherwise), how Bianca views The Bees as her children, and how Vi’s formed a close relationship with one of her many, many sisters, The Hive just seems to be a family much more than any other kingdom: this is in both good ways like Bees being closer, and less than good ways like having unfortunate situations (failures to communicate, misunderstandings, and feelings of being ignored or unsupported) like many families do. I think I like all that a lot due to my aforementioned value of family stuff, and one can even give lore-y reasons for it being neat. Like, real life bug colonies don’t really do family stuff, right? They just work to care for the colony, that’s it. That The Hive holds much more in the way close bonds could be a sign of the change from crystals continuing, and having more effects than immediately obvious: not only are bugs losing limbs but living longer, they’re gaining their own wants, and they’re former closer bonds to each other than “This is my fellow worker, we both will make the honey.” I just find that sweet, I think, and with what’s shown of Vi and how she interacts with The Hive in-game I think it tells a sweet story of a girl feeling separated from her home and family but learning that things weren’t that bad, repairing bridges that could have stayed burnt, and probably bringing about changes that will make the people there happier. Bianca mentions how “We have heard of [Vi’s] exploits”, and how “the outside world did [her] some good”: from the sounds of it multiple Bees were proud of Vi for her success as an explorer, and one can imagine that leading to more explorers coming from The Hive, as well as the Bees learning to support unique ideas more. For as sad as the situation with Vi and The Hive was, it seems to have with her learning to like her old home again and it will likely lead to it getting even better than it was before.

Hoo, that was a whole lot of talking and I can’t help but fear that a lot of it is either rambly, repetitive, or illogical...but, uh, if you read all the way through it then thank you so much! I appreciate it, and I hope it wasn’t too difficult to read. I bet there’s all sorts of stuff we don’t know that could be for or against my reading: for all we know Bianca kept Vi in a cupboard back when she lived in The Hive, for all we know Vi set multiple Bees on fire on purpose. But, based on what we do know, that’s how I feel about the situation. Once more, I do not intend to insult anybody that thinks differently from me or anything (tbh I get the impression a lot of people may think different from me, ha): I just prefer funnier and happier stuff (as I feel I’ve said many times before), and I just felt like showing why I viewed the deal with Vi and The Hive to be a sad one, but one rife with misunderstanding (amongst the bugs involved at least) and one that ended quite positively. If you disagree that’s perfectly fine, I just hope I explained myself in a way that makes sense and isn’t like, stupidly simple or ignorant or whatever. Even if it is, I apologize. I just think the Bees are all cute and I like to think that they’re happy, ha.

#bug fables #lots of text #maybe this is just me trying to sound smarter...#also sorry that I beat myself up a lot here #I just like bees and I don't think I'm great at showing it beyond drawing queen bianca doing silly things lel #also sorry I say lel ha and use emoticons so much :>#also sorry I aplogize so much #ok I'll hush now

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ya-girl-mc · 4 years

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Sweet Indulgence

Character: Kuroo Tetsurou × Fem Reader

Concept: Y/N and Kuroo spend their Valentine's evening with a homecooked date night dinner; then came "dessert" 😏

⚠️ Warning: Sexual content (also contains a minor spoiler from the Haikyuu!! manga since I referred to a lil detail there for Kuroo's character in this fic)

A/N: Happy Valentine's Day ya'll esp to those who'll be spending it alone (me lol 😔✊). This fic was requested by a dear irl friend of mine who's one of the biggest Kuroo trash I know so here ya go 😉

☆☆ A Haikyuu!! Fanfiction ☆☆

"Damn it."

Kuroo's disgruntled voice caused Y/N to look up from her morning coffee as she gazed at him inquisitively. "What's up?"

A deep frown etched on his face, he sighed and set his phone down on the table, his attention once again on his half-eaten breakfast. "The Chief. He needs me to work overtime tonight, of all times. I swear that old man is giving me way too much load for how much I'm getting paid-"

Y/N brought up her coffee mug to her lips, gazing at her boyfriend sympathetically as she listened to him rant about his rather unfortunate office life. While Kuroo loves and is adept at his new job at the Sports Promotion Division of the Japan Volleyball Association, his overbearing boss made matters far from pleasing.

Ah yes, the toil of the working class.

"-and we even made those dinner reservations tonight for Valentine's Day."

Oh, right. Like any typical run-of-the-mill working class couple, Y/N and Kuroo were looking forward to a classy dinner to celebrate the 14th, yet the unforeseen circumstances seemed to have derailed their evening plans. Huffing in annoyance, he set his utensils down and shot her a guilty look. She was quite disappointed of course, but it couldn't be helped; it's all part of the game, as they say. "It's fine, we could always go at a different time. You do what you gotta do."

"You know, when you act all level-headed like that, I can't help but feel even worse," Kuroo sighed, thoroughly frustrated at how his boss managed to ruin their dinner plans.

She grinned at him as an idea occurred to her. "What time do you get off work today?"

"Probably 8 or 9, at the latest. Why?"

"Great!" Y/N chimed, chuckling sheepishly as soon as she noticed the impassive expression on Kuroo's face. "Well...not because you have to work overtime since that definitely sucks. I mean, I'd have enough time to prepare us a fancy dinner for date night." Her eyes lit up in excitement, her mind already racing with ideas as she began to ponder on what dishes to prepare.

Kuroo grinned at her in amusement, feeling himself gradually get over his workplace woes. Glancing at his phone, he briskly cleaned up after himself and proceeded to grab his belongings. "Thanks for the meal, but I'd better go on ahead. The earlier I can get there, the sooner I can get everything done."

Y/N followed suit and ushered him to the entrance of their shared apartment. It was pretty rare to see Kuroo invigorated on a weekday morning as he usually lazed around with her for a bit before they both headed off to their respective offices; the idea of a scrumptious date night dinner prepared by his lover definitely served as extra motivation to get through the day.

After adjusting his tie, she proceeded to ruffle his hair to try and straighten his stubborn bed head, but to no avail. "I don't know how you can seem to pull off going to work with bed hair, but anyway, do your best today, Kuroo-san!" She teased and saw him off with a salute.

Damn it, how adorable.

In one swift motion, he wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled her close, his lips pecking hers ever so slightly as he pulled away, chuckling at the dazed expression on her face. "I'll make it up to you later, I promise. Then, I'll be off." He waved at her as Y/N watched his retreating figure, her heart still pounding from their prior interaction.

As I thought, cohabitation really is the best.

*****

It was just about past 7 in the evening when Y/N arrived at their apartment with an armful of groceries. Despite getting off from work as early as 5:30, she lost track of time in the supermarket, completely engulfed with the multitude of ideas that raced through her mind. Cooking was a passion of hers, and there's nothing she enjoys more other than spoiling her significant other with her culinary prowess.

Unloading the bags on the kitchen's countertop, Y/N's eyes scanned over the ingredients, thoroughly pleased with her purchase.

Seared rib eye steak paired with a classic red wine jus, a creamy and delectable potato au gratin as a side dish, and a decadent chocolate mousse dessert for that extra indulgence...ahhh it's perfect! I'll make sure that every penny spent on these ridiculously expensive ingredients will be worth it!

Y/N threw an apron on and proceeded to undertake the necessary preparations for each of the dishes, determined to salvage what's left of her and Kuroo's Valentine's Day plans with probably the best dinner she'll be preparing by far. She recounted on the recipes she had sneakily studied in-between working hours, finding herself completely engrossed with the tasks at hand.

Okay, the gratin's baking in the oven...once there's 30 minutes left to its cooking time that's when I'll start preparing the red wine jus. Then I'll be searing the steak, let it rest, then prepare the mousse in the process. Yep, I got this in the bag!

Once more immersing herself in her culinary escapades, Y/N was finally down to the last task of whipping up the chocolate mousse when the front door opened, signaling Kuroo's arrival from work as the wonderful aromas that wafted from the kitchen uplifted him from his weariness. With her back turned towards him, he shut the door and sauntered towards the kitchen, a scheming grin on his face as he crept towards his oblivious girlfriend.

"Y/N," he breathed teasingly into her ear, causing her to yelp in surprise.

"Goddammit, Tetsurou!" She hastily switched off the hand mixer to avoid splattering chocolate mousse everywhere, shooting him a dirty look in the process. "You're lucky I only had a mixer in my hand! What if it was something else, like a-"

The sight of her handsome lover, still clad in his office attire with a bouquet of flowers in his hand, rendered her speechless. He chuckled as Y/N continued to gawk at him, stepping closer to wrap his free arm around her shoulders. "Happy Valentine's Day." Kuroo tenderly pressed his lips on her temples as he handed her the bouquet.

Ahh, great. Now I feel like crap for yelling at him like that. Unable to suppress the smile that made its way to her face, she sheepishly accepted his gift, standing on her toes to plant an appreciative kiss on his cheek. "T-thank you...and Happy Valentine's Day, too."

The warmth that adorned her cheeks just made her even more irresistible, yet Kuroo tried to reel in his urges as he allotted a reasonable distance between them. "So, what did my cute lover prepare for date night?"

As if on cue at his inquiry, her eyes immediately lit up. "Well, I started off by preparing the potato au gratin since that takes the longest to cook. I infused the cream with a little thyme, rosemary, and a dash of lemon zest to cut back on the heaviness. Then, for the rib eye steak, I-" Kuroo simply listened on as she rambled, the corners of his mouth turning upwards as she explained the entirety of the cooking process of each of the dishes she had prepared. While he didn't understand a majority of it, it was utterly endearing for him to see her so engrossed in the fervor of her culinary passion.

So basically, she prepared a fancy potato dish, a steak dish, and chocolate mousse for dessert. Damn it, she's just too adorable when she goes all out.

"-so anyway," Y/N continued, grasping Kuroo's attention once more. "Can you check if the mousse tastes fine? I'm a bit concerned that I may have fallen short on the sweetness." With a spoon in hand, she scooped a generous amount and held it out for him to taste.

Taking it into his mouth, Kuroo's eyes widened as the dessert's decadence flooded his taste buds. The mousse was not overbearingly sweet due to the dark chocolate she used, yet it still delivered the right amount of indulgence for a dessert; the perfect balance of flavor was definitely to his liking. "Wow, that's delicious!" He exclaimed and was tempted to beg for another spoonful.

Y/N grinned, her pride swelling up at his positive feedback. "Yay, glad to hear! I'll be popping this in the fridge to chill while we have dinner."

Setting down the bouquet of flowers on the countertop, she proceeded to take the bowl; however, Kuroo had something else in mind as he held her arm and leaned closer, peering at her inquisitive expression. "Why don't you give it a taste as well?"

"Uhm...okay." As she reached for another spoon, Kuroo snatched it away from her and shook his head dismissively. Scooping a spoonful of the mixture, he applied a dollop of mousse on his fingers and held it out, a mischievous smirk on his face.

"Here."

The atmosphere between them suddenly shifted, and with Kuroo eyeing her so earnestly, she couldn't help her cheeks from flaming up at his promiscuous gesture. Amid Y/N's brief contemplation, he brushed his fingers across her lips and gently pushed them into her mouth.

Her heart thumping at how unbelievably alluring Kuroo was at their proximity, she locked her eyes with his, her tongue slowly lapping up the remnants of chocolate mousse. It was long gone, yet she continued to suck fervently on his fingers, earning a shudder from him. She slowly took it out of her mouth, keeping her gaze trained on his. "You're right, it is delicious."

Kuroo's eyes darkened with lust as he took a step closer, running his thumb across her lip to collect all remaining traces of the mousse. His tongue slowly darted out of his mouth and licked his thumb clean, grinning as Y/N simply stared at him, her mouth slightly agape. "I know that you just prepared us a delicious dinner, but there's something else I'd rather eat right now."

Unable to hold himself back any longer, Kuroo slipped his hand behind her head, pulling her close as his lips urgently met hers. The force nearly made Y/N stumble, but his arm immediately went around her waist, stabilizing her position as she met his kiss with fervor. As their tongues intertwined, both of them could detect a hint of sweetness from the remnants of the chocolate mousse which only intensified their thirst for the other.

Y/N struggled to breathe as Kuroo's tongue relentlessly explored her mouth, the hands that held his blazer beginning to tremble. He took her bottom lip into his teeth, the sharp sensation causing her knees to buckle as he backed her up into the countertop, pressing himself even closer to her. Her head was beginning to spin, and if it weren't for Kuroo's lean stature holding her in place, she would have collapsed then and there.

"T-tetsurou," Y/N gasped out as Kuroo trailed his lips across her jaw and down to her neck, wincing as she felt his teeth graze the skin. His hands wandered down to her waist as he hoisted her up on the countertop, his tongue darting out to soothe the love bites he left along her neck. Pulling away momentarily, he eyed her with raw passion and need as he loosened up his neck tie, the seemingly mundane gesture igniting Y/N's desire.

"Strip for me." His voice was low, commanding, yet she could sense the desperation it conveyed. Her heart pounding wildly, Y/N proceeded to remove her apron and unbutton her blouse, her face burning at how Kuroo's eyes scrutinized her every move; however, her current position hindered her as she struggled to discard her skirt. Leaning back on her forearm, she slightly lifted her hips and slipped off her skirt with her free hand, causing Kuroo to grit his teeth at how unbelievably erotic the entire scene was.

Now down to her underwear, Y/N attempted to pull him towards her yet he shook his head defiantly, his finger trailing from her lips down to the swell of her breasts. "I meant all of it."

"You should've clarified it earlier," she huffed, completely flustered at how Kuroo enjoyed making her squirm.

He then responded to her quip with his own. "I didn't think that needed to be clarified, Y/N."

Completely at a loss on how to respond, she sighed in defeat and conceded as her hands moved to discard the last few pieces of clothing, eventually swallowing hard as she noticed how aroused Kuroo had gotten through his slacks. He wanted to take her then and there, but as his eyes wandered to the bowl of chocolate mousse atop the counter, he decided to have a little bit more fun; it was Valentine's Day after all.

Y/N followed his gaze and immediately caught on on what he was planning to do, sighing internally as the dessert she painstakingly made will be used for a completely different purpose. Yet, she fidgeted in anticipation, unable to deny how much the prospect turned her on. Kuroo chuckled, the gestures she displayed serving as all the confirmation he needed to proceed.

Reaching for the bowl and a ladle, Kuroo scooped a generous amount of mousse and poured it on her body, his own breathing picking up as he watched the slightly viscous mixture cascade down her bare chest. "That kind of tickles," Y/N remarked shyly, keeping her eyes trained downwards as she couldn't bring herself to look at him.

As I thought...this is kind of embarrassing after all.

Kuroo sensed her apprehension. He leaned towards her and pressed a reassuring kiss on her cheek, a gentle smile adorning his face. "I'll be cleaning this off of you in no time."

Before Y/N could process the implications of his words, she flinched in surprise as Kuroo's tongue boldly lapped up the mousse on her chest, her hands immediately moving towards his hair as she trembled in pleasure. His hands on her thighs, he abruptly pulled her closer towards him, her legs wrapping around his waist in the process. The sweetness of the mousse and the lustful moans Y/N released overwhelmed his senses as he ran his tongue over her nipple, her hands tightening its grip on his hair in response. It was starting to hurt a bit as she pulled at the strands, completely lost in her own passion as he stimulated her, yet Kuroo didn't mind; rather, it only encouraged him further as he began to take her nipples into his teeth, causing her to cry out at the sensations he induced.

"T-tetsurou...enough, please," she begged in-between gasps as she lifted Kuroo's head from her chest, her eyes dazed and completely overcome with desire.

"All right, all right. I'll stop," he rescinded, pulling away from Y/N slightly as he grinned at the panicked expression on her face.

"N-no, that's not what I-"

"You want me to touch you elsewhere, right?" Kuroo once more reached for the ladle and poured a generous amount of mousse along her thighs. In an instant, he was down on his knees as he positioned her legs atop his shoulders, the new angle allowing him an enticing view of her soaked core. Glancing up momentarily at her, he shuddered in pleasure as he noticed the lustful way she was looking at him.

Licking his fingers clean, he kissed hungrily down her thigh, his tongue darting out to lap up the sweet mixture. Y/N moaned uncontrollably, twining her fingers with the strands of his hair in an attempt to keep him in place. Kuroo's mouth eventually reached her inner thigh, the warm breaths he let out teasing her entrance. He looked up once more to seek out her permission as the single nod she managed was all the confirmation he needed.

His lips and tongue began to stimulate her most sensitive parts, Y/N's grip on his hair tightening as she gasped out in pleasure. She was intoxicating, the high-pitched noises and gestures she made guiding him in his ministrations. As soon as his lips touched her sweet spot, she jerked in surprise, causing Kuroo to cease his actions. "What's wrong? Did that feel good for you?"

Y/N nodded earnestly as she looked down at him; the sight of Kuroo on his knees with his head in-between her legs was just too much to take. Taking her silence as a signal to continue, he resumed his earlier actions, her every response, no matter how miniscule, fueling his own arousal. He decided to take it even further as the deliberate moans he let out caused Y/N to whimper at how pleasurable the vibrations felt.

"T-tetsurou...!" She gasped, her insides tightening which signaled her fast-approaching release. Kuroo made no attempt to stop as the movement of his lips and tongue intensified, pushing her on the verge of coming. Her entire body began to tremble and it wasn't long before she finally climaxed, her upper body slumping forward as she struggled to regain her breathing.

Wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, Kuroo swiftly stood and allowed Y/N to lean into his embrace, his hands stroking her hair as her breathing eventually evened. "You okay?"

"Y-yeah, thanks for that," she mumbled in embarrassment, her head pressed against his chest as she listened to his heartbeat, her eyelids gradually becoming heavier.

However, Kuroo was far from being done. He tipped up her chin, all traces of his earlier composure long gone from his face. "Sorry Y/N. We're not done yet. Not when you got me all worked up from that." He drew back and gently pulled her arm, his hands moving to provide support as she hopped down from the counter, her legs slightly wobbling. Her entire body still felt quite sensitive from the remnants of her earlier passion, yet she was eager for more.

His hands moved frantically as he turned Y/N around and pushed her down, her front pressing against the cool surface of the granite countertop. She heard Kuroo curse under his breath as he took in her new position, her face burning at how much more exposed she felt; yet, she couldn't deny the anticipation she felt for what's to come. "Hurry..."

"Shit, hold on...let me just-" Kuroo was frantic now, completely engulfed in his own desire as he reached for his pocket for a condom; he always kept one in hand for "emergency purposes", as he claimed. Holding the packet momentarily between his teeth, his fingers fumbled as he unbuckled and unbuttoned his slacks. Ripping the wrapper off with his teeth, he proceeded to put the condom on, positioning himself behind Y/N. He wrapped his arm around her waist to pull her close as his other hand held his throbbing length. "I'm going in."

He plunged himself deep, both of them moaning uncontrollably at the sensation of their joined bodies. Her insides were unbearably warm and tight, yet she still managed to take in the entirety of his shaft so easily. Snapping his hips forward, Kuroo let out a throaty groan as their position allowed him to reach even deeper parts inside of her. Completely overcome with his overwhelming need, he began thrusting wildly, his grip on her waist tightening.

Y/N grasped the edges of the countertop at the sheer force of his thrusts, her entire being staggering at how relentlessly Kuroo made love to her; but, she was not one to complain as she eventually moved her hips along with his, taking him even deeper than before.

"Shit...Y/N, you feel so good," Kuroo moaned, his teeth nibbling along her earlobe. It was during times like these when she and him indulged in each other that Kuroo strays from his usual composed and laid-back demeanor; she took pride in being able to witness and experience this completely different side of him.

Their lustful moans echoed throughout the apartment, yet despite her current state-of-mind, Y/N managed to recollect herself, well-aware of their neighbors risking on hearing them. She brought up her hand to her mouth to silence herself; however, Kuroo withheld her attempt to do so, too far gone to care about such matters.

"It's too late for that now. Don't hold yourself back, let me hear you." The unbearably seductive manner he had whispered those words fueled Y/N's desire ten-fold, and it wasn't long before she felt her incoming release as her insides tightened, eliciting a throaty groan from Kuroo.

"I-I'm close...Tetsurou...!" She began calling for him even louder then before. Gritting his teeth, Kuroo wrapped his arm around her waist and pulled her to a standing position, the new angle allowing him to plunge himself even deeper. His release was fast-approaching as well, his mouth falling atop her shoulder to stifle the lewd noises he was making. Y/N reached up and grasped his hair to keep him in place, her hips moving urgently against his as he showered her neck and shoulders with kisses.

It was just too much to bear, the lustful noises she made intensifying at the sensations he invoked. Moaning out her name, Kuroo lifted her leg and increased his pace, the pleasure of their love-making pushing them on the verge of insanity as they eventually climaxed, Y/N's entire body slumping against his body. Their chests heaving, Kuroo brushed his lips against her cheek, carefully pulling out of her as he collected her languid form into his arms, both of them gradually coming down from their high.

"I love you," he murmured tenderly, his lips brushing against the top of her head.

"I love you, too." Y/N's hands grasped his blazer, glancing upwards to return his smile with her own, both of them in a state of euphoria. It was short-lived, however, as she immediately recollected herself, her panicked eyes darting around the kitchen. "Oh my god, the gratin! And the steak, it's probably oxidized by now...and the chocolate mousse! Only you got to eat it, Tetsurou, you idiot!"

Kuroo couldn't hold back his laughter as she scrambled around the kitchen to collect her discarded clothes, abruptly switching the oven off before moving to check on the remaining dishes of their long-forgotten date night dinner. However, he stopped her in her tracks as he gathered her once more into his embrace. "Before that, I think we should clean up the counter - and more importantly - ourselves first. Besides, even if you feed me burnt crap, I'd still be happy to eat anything you make."

He'd expect her to swoon over his words, yet she only shot him a narrowed look, her hands pushing against his chest. "Butter me up all you want, you're not escaping dish duty tonight."

Kuroo chuckled and watched in amusement as Y/N marched to their bathroom to take a shower, his hands reaching for a rag and disinfectant. He proceeded to wipe the countertop clean, the grin on his face widening as he did. "It was still worth a shot."

#haikyuu #haikyuu fanfiction #kuroo tetsurou #smut #kuroo x reader #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu kuroo #request

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macgyvermedical · 4 years

Video

youtube

Omg I know probably everyone has seen this by now but I just watched it for the first time and... it’s amazing. It is the most accurate to medical drama thing I have ever seen. I have watched it like 6 times now and I’m dying laughing.

So the non-med-people can enjoy this as much as I did:

“We have a 35 year old male- he was at the gym, he got hypertensive”

Hypertensive means high blood pressure. Most people at the gym are doing something strenuous and therefore have blood pressure that would be considered really, really high if they had it at rest. So unless this guy was having chest pain or a bad headache or confusion or some other symptom of hypertension that was causing damage, which in report they should have lead with, in other words... he’s totally fine.

“They were able to monitor everything on his apple watch” / “We’re just going to monitor everything right through the apple watch”

I know they’re referring to a very specific episode of a very specific show but I’m blanking right now on what it was (New Amsterdam, maybe?). Also the apple watch can monitor pulse, sense falls, and record a 1-lead EKG (with an app that can be downloaded separately) that can detect a heart rhythm called sinus rhythm (normal) and atrial fibrillation (generally not life threatening), but nothing else, meaning this does not explain literally anything they talk about in this video.

“He had a blood pulse that was really really high”

They’d just say something like “his heart rate was _____ bpm” which everyone in the room would know how to interpret. Also it’s just a pulse or heart rate, not a “blood pulse”.

“Can we go ahead and start fluids? Let’s go with Jevity 1.5 Cal” / “I’m just gonna run this straight through the IV pump”

Jevity 1.5 Cal is a type of tube feed (that has 1.5 calories per milliliter) that would go through a feeding tube. You cannot put this through an IV (it would kill the patient), and you can’t run it on an IV pump (none of the tubes or connectors can connect to each other as a safety feature... so you don’t accidentally run it through an IV and kill someone).

“We’re gonna need access to his cardiovascular system- I think I’m going to have to put in a peripheral IV right at the bedside since the ORs are busy.”

A peripheral IV is just what you think of as an IV. They’re almost always put in at the bedside (meaning they can be put in right in the patient’s room).

“Does someone want to call family and get consent?”

There’s no indication that this patient cannot give their own consent, and if he was unconscious and consent was implied (we assume you would want to be helped if you were in medical distress so bad you were unconscious), they wouldn’t waste time getting the family’s consent for something as small as an IV. Which was probably already put in by the paramedics on the way there.

“I’ll go ahead and get gowned up”

IVs are a “clean” but not “sterile” procedure, meaning that we don’t need to wear a gown for them (unless there’s another reason we should be wearing one, like contact precautions for infectious disease). Also he is wearing the gown backwards.

“I’m not seeing anything, he’s so hypertensive.”

HYPERtension (high blood pressure) generally does not make a difference in how difficult it is to find veins, in fact, it might make it a little easier. HYPOtension (low blood pressure) does make it harder to find veins to put IVs in.

“If I do this right there is going to be a flash”

A “flash” in the context of an IV start is a small amount of blood that pops into a window in the IV start device, which tells you the IV catheter is in the vein. It is not a literal flash of light. Little misinterpretations of things like this are everywhere in medical fiction.

“It is in the femoral artery, we now have access to his cardiovascular system”

The femoral artery is in the leg and it is not something you put a peripheral IV in. A central line maybe, but that actually would be done in an OR as a sterile procedure.

“The bladder scanner’s reading 0, we need to go ahead and place a foley”

A bladder scanner is used to determine if a patient is keeping urine in their bladder even after they urinate. A reading of 0 is ideal because that means there is no urine in the bladder. You would not place a foley (a catheter that goes in the bladder and continuously drains urine out) for this patient, because they’re voiding fine on their own. Medical dramas misinterpret test results like this all the time, or use tests that don’t make sense (like this guy’s bladder scan for hypertension).

*hooks up foley to suction*

Urine drains out of foleys to gravity, it does not need to be hooked up to suction. When you’re watching medical dramas they do a lot of “hook it up wherever, the audience won’t know the difference” which is what they’re poking fun at here.

“Patient’s still in tachycardia, I need to go ahead and begin mild compressions”

Tachycardia just means a heart rate above 100 (or 120 depending on your hospital). The only thing you’d do for this (assuming sinus tach) is figure out what’s causing it (dehydration, anxiety, pain, fever, etc...) and correct that. If it’s something called supraventricular tachycardia, you might give a drug called adenosine or try having the patient bear down, but you would never start compressions for tachycardia unless the patient’s heart was beating so fast they lost a pulse. And there’s no such thing as “mild compressions”- it’s compressions or no compressions. There’s nothing in between.

“This is Blake on 4b, we’re calling a supercode.”

The term “megacode” is sometimes used (especially in training) to refer to a code where you’re using the whole algorithm for a cardiac arrest to work the patient. There is nothing called a “supercode”, though a lot of times they’ll say random words with Code attached to sound medical in medical dramas but that don’t mean anything.

“We just got an alert he’s in V-fib, we can stop compressions”

V-fib, or ventricular fibrillation, is a pulseless rhythm, and that’s when you would START compressions typically. Also, an apple watch cannot sense v-fib.

“The patient’s desatting- he’s not tolerating room air oxygenation”

This would actually be said “the patient’s desatting (the percentage of the patient’s hemoglobin molecules that have oxygen attached to them are dropping), he’s not tolerating room air” So there’s just a few extra words here that make the character look like he’s never been in a hospital before.

“I think we need to go ahead and intubate with a bag mask”

Intubation (putting a tube down a person’s throat to deliver air/O2 directly into their lungs) is a different thing than oxygenating with a bag valve mask (basically just pushing air into the patient’s lungs without a tube). Then he goes ahead and puts a non-rebreather (type of oxygen mask that doesn’t have anything to do with either of the two things he just mentioned) on the patient upside down. He then hooks the oxygen tubing up to the same suction he attached the foley to earlier.

“The bag’s not inflating all the way- I think I’m going to have to go in manually”

Squeezing the bag on a non-rebreather does nothing useful. Swearsies.

“Good news- his oxygen is coming down and his BP’s going up”

He’s here for... hypertension, right? Like, we want the opposite of that to happen.

*on the phone with x-ray* “The blood in his body is going clockwise???”

This is both not a result you can get, and also not a result you’d get from x-ray anyway, which is something that happens all the time in medical fiction. Random results that don’t make sense from departments they wouldn’t have come from.

“Team- everything we learned in school- throw it out the window, we’ve gotta save this guy!”

No one is that dramatic irl. You’d get laughed out of the room.

“His potassium level is 10.8- we’re gonna go ahead and we’re gonna need more potassium!”

10.8 is an absurdly lethally high amount of potassium. No wonder that guy is in v-fib. You would not put more potassium in this guy. You would be getting the insulin and D50 out of the Pyxis (med machine) and frantically paging anyone with an MD or DO after their name for an order to give it to bring the potassium down.

“Someone get me a banana” *spikes the banana like it’s an IV bag* “I know they didn’t teach us this in school, but it’s all we have”

I feel like that’s referencing the scene in Off the Map where they spike the coconut. Which, turns out, actually a thing. Unlike the banana.

Also they’re in a hospital. There are many forms of potassium in a hospital, which is a misconception you also see a lot in medical fiction- improvisation when it’s completely unnecessary.

“Sir, this may burn a little bit”

Oh, hey, something they got right! Potassium does burn given IV! Just like in medical fiction, they’ll get one little thing bizzarly correct in the midst of all that.

“The apple watch is dying! Does anyone have a charger??”

Another moment of “we definitely don’t need to be improvising this... we’re in a hospital” which I could totally see them doing in a medical drama.

“I think we have to open up his airway- we need an incentive spirometer chest tube”

Like when they were talking about intubating him with the “bag mask” he’s talking about two completely different things. A chest tube is a tube that goes into the chest and drains air or fluid so the lungs can expand fully. An incentive spirometer is a device used to encourage deep breathing in patients (which prevents fluid from building up in the lungs). What’s shown in the video is an incentive spirometer that’s apparently been hooked up to the chest tube. Which is another excellent misinterpretation that I could totally see being made from google research.

“I’m going to go ahead and check for PERRLA” *looks in mouth*

PERRLA is an acronym for an assessment of the pupils and how they react to light and accommodate distance. While you might want to check it in a code, you would not look in the mouth...

“We can cancel the supercode, also there’s no need for the MRSA nasal swab”

In the context of transferring him to the floor instead of the ICU, you genuinely wouldn’t do the nasal swab for MRSA (more necessary in an ICU setting, and many ICUs require one (and put anyone who comes up positive in isolation) to prevent spread of antibiotic resistant infection). HOWEVER, this is another thing that hospital shows do where they misunderstand the importance of certain things, or what would be deliberately ordered versus be a part of a routine order set that wouldn’t even really get mentioned. Like the MRSA swab for the ICU.

Nurse Blake really hit the nail on the head with this. I love it to pieces!

#medical fiction #nurse blake #medical dramas #whump reference #writing reference

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gofancyninjaworld · 4 years

Text

Meta: What rough beast slouches to be born?

Right, webcomic chapter 125 has raised quite a few questions about cyborgs and I purposely left it aside. Until now. I’m sorry for the length, but I’m only allowed one ‘readmore’. :(

What we knew

Many moons ago for us, 9 or so weeks ago for them, Genos showed up at Saitama’s doorstep like a refugee from another world, telling a tale of destroyed towns, rampaging cyborgs, and desperate revenge quests. It’s seemed rather far-fetched, particularly as not much has happened on that front. Over the course of the story, we’ve had little bits of independent corroboration about the veracity of his story. The town that he was born in was definitely erased from the map. Yes, a cyborg is wanted in connection with the incident.

But where is that guy? Does it have anything to do with the powered suit-flogging cyborgs seen early on the series? Does it have anything to do with the ‘glimpse behind the scenes’ chapter the manga offered us with Drive Knight (but no context as to how that glimpse fitted into the wider story)? Come to that, where are all the cyborgs?

To start with, there are a lot of cyborgs of various sorts in OPM. Quite a few moons ago, I wrote a bit about them, drawing a distinction between those who used parts to replace lost function and those who looked at it as a change of identity: “Is the Organization a Claw Analogue?”

Chapter 125 has been surprisingly good about confirming some of what I surmised about cyborgs, but it’s brought some very good additional information! On we go!

There are cyborgs; and then there are Cyborgs

Our ambassador through the world of cyborgs is new Neo Hero recruit Koko (Solitude), who modified his body for the world of cyborg fighting, only he was a little too successful and no one would bet on him. We see him scanning various people and passing commentary on them.

The first to give him serious pause is Webigaza, who lost six months of life to getting her body modifications done -- no wonder she’s pissed off that her rival has self-destructed in the interim.

Koko is shaken by her having 71% of her body modified.

obsessive determination is terrifying to look at

Percentage body modification of the sort Koko is used to seeing, 30% maximum, you can do right here right here and now. It’s equivalent to losing a leg and most of the other. Here and now, we can also do brain implants to control tremors or fits or some neurological conditions, replace part of the heart, spine fusions, quite a few bits and pieces. The sort of modifications Koko is used to seeing are very functional ones that make sense for someone looking to get an edge in fighting for money. They’re also along the lines of what we’ve seen with One-Shotter or Death Gatling.

If you lose and replace all four limbs, that's 50% of your body modified. While quadruple amputees unfortunately exist IRL, I don’t know if anyone has had the kind of money, physical fitness and pure grit to do that. Nevertheless it’s not technically impossible. 60% sounds about right before you're now looking at breaking into the more vital parts of your body. The point at which the risk involved just can't be justified in terms of restoring function or health. I’m emphasising that because I’m going to come back to this point. He’s shaken because modifications that extensive aren’t about simply gaining an edge; they’re being willing to exchange serious bodily harm for serious power. It says a lot about who Webigaza is.

Within the Hero Association, I think we do know a hero round about that 60% mark. Jet Nice Guy comes to mind. He sports an armored exterior, powerful artificial limbs (which will need internal reinforcement to not just rip up his body), but his innards are all human. After the way he started to bleed out after Nyan slashed him, I realised that the reason it looked like intestines when the Deep Sea King ripped him open is because they were... >.< Sorry, dude.

the worst of both worlds -- too modified to have an easy life, still too weak to deal with the real monsters that exist

Scary enough, but then the security staff come in to stop the kerfuffle that Koko and his buddy, Mars Leo, were causing. Koko scanned them and was stunned into horror:

as disciplined and ruthless a pair of killers as you could never hope to lay eyes on. Definitely not frothing at the mouth, these two!

These two have modified themselves so extensively they’re almost inhuman. 94, 95% body modification is equivalent to having only 3.5 - 4.2 kg of live mass left assuming an original live mass of 70 kg. And, if the similar naming convention didn’t tip you off to it, it’s around the sort of hyper-extensive modification we see Genos having. [See under the readmore for a first-principles estimation I did a long time ago.] Maybe Drive Knight too if he’s a cyborg. What kind of power have they exchanged their human bodies for? What kind of people are willing to do that to themselves? Koko is very sure that he does NOT want to know.

When he tells you who he is, believe him

That’s dating advice often given to ladies overlooking obvious red flags but it goes with great force in OPM. ONE has characters tell us who they are early on, even if it doesn’t mean anything to us for a long time.

And he’s had Genos be a particularly straightforward and truthful character. He doesn’t always interpret things correctly, but he says it exactly as he sees it. Looking at the way the high percentage cyborgs we’ve met thus far either be very inhuman looking or completely disguised as regular human beings, he’s chosen an appearance that puts both his humanity and mechanical nature on display.

Something that the chapter has brought up that I've kept saying to people on the Discord and on Reddit: there is no medically justifiable reason for Genos to have a body as modified as he does. Which Genos TELLS US for fuck’s sake. His giant wall of text is a synopsis, no more and no less.

When he says that “...I asked Professor Kuseno to perform a procedure to modify my body. Then I was reborn as a cyborg for justice...” (Viz) “...I begged Dr Stench (sic) to transform me into a cyborg and I was reborn as a cyborg who fights for justice...” (Boon scanslations, who copied verbatim whoever did the webcomic version). It’s nothing to do with health. Feel free to have whatever headcanons you like, but please don’t confuse them with the story.

But it doesn’t end there. I look at Destro and Erimin and realise that there’s another perfectly truthful statement that’s been staring us in the face.

Genos knows. Why would he ask a mechanical engineer who uses a wearable battle suit and pilots armed drones to modify his body, let alone modify it to such an insane degree? Because he knows that Dr Kuseno knows how to build cyborgs like the one who destroyed his town.

We don’t know if Destro and Erimin have any responsibility for the destroyed town, but someone of their ilk does. Which brings us to a third nakedly truthful statement. When Genos talks of not believing that he could be defeated by anything other than the rampaging cyborg, he’s not anticipating winning because he’s suicidal. It’s because he’s aware that if he’s throwing rock, so too is his enemy: mutual annihilation is the best he can hope for.

At least until he met Saitama. And started to hope for not mutual destruction, but victory (check the difference in chapter 108 of the webcomic).

a world away from the attitude of mutually-assured destruction he started with.

Stepping away from the text a bit, it casts a different light on why he’s been so desperate to learn from Saitama. Learning Saitama's secret is his balance-breaker. He wants something other than rock, that is guaranteed to smash whatever rock his enemy might throw. But that’s not all there is. As Garou said, once he discovered Blue Fire’s flamethrower, once you know how a freakish weapon works, you know it. Any edge a new weapon might give Genos is liable to be studied and replicated (see how quickly Dr Kuseno was able to reverse engineer and adapt the principles of G-4′s curving energy beams). But Saitama’s strength is unphysical: no matter how closely you inspect his body, you can never relate the physicality of Saitama’s body to the power he can generate. That unphysicality, that’s what Genos wants too. It also puts in context why he’s been so fascinated by psychic power and wants to learn it if at all possible.

neat trick, I’ll take two! Genos dodging G4′s beams in chapter 38, and putting the principle of them to good use in chapter 120

And finally, since in his world, knowledge is literally power, it gives yet another layered reason Genos is so determined to keep anyone else from becoming Saitama’s disciple. If they learn his secret too, then the advantage he seeks will be lost. (that it doesn’t work quite that way for Saitama is a fact for us to enjoy and for him to find out).

Nothing is as scary as a human being

Nothing is as scary as a human being is one of the things that Reigen says to Tome on occasion. It’s in full force in OPM. Monsters may be strong, but they all live in the now. Only a human being could have put together the Monster Association. When it comes to cyborgs, their abilities may be inhuman but their thoughts, imaginations, morals and appetites are all 100% human. It’s a terrifying combination.

There’s something I missed when I likened The Organization to a Claw Analogue. In Mob Psycho 100, the protagonists are children and they're fighting an organisation made up of over-grown children -- adults who have refused to grow up. In One-Punch Man, the protagonists are adults and the bad humans in the story are very much adults too. With calculated cruelty and depravity to match. When The Organization bares its claws for real, this is going to get so brutal.

If Genos has not been standing still, then neither has his enemy. From the manga, even if we hold Drive Knight blameless and independent of all this mess, his besting Nyan told us that cyborgs can indeed come crazy-strong and highlighted how much more work Genos had yet to do. It also highlighted how very clever and calculating cyborgs can be -- well, they’re human, duh! If I was worried for his prospects then, in the webcomic, Genos is nowhere near as psychologically, physically or emotionally ready as his manga version is. And the guys who look to be his enemies aren’t going to be cutting him any slack. They’re very real. They’re not mad. And they’re closer than he ever imagined.

Fighting monsters is barely adequate preparation for whatever it is that’s to come.

Whenever Genos gets dragged into whatever it is those cyborgs are up to -- or runs into it, since he claims he’s still hunting the rampaging cyborg -- ‘rough’ doesn’t begin to describe it.

Extra Stuff

Edited from an answer I gave on Reddit to the question of how much of Genos was still organic about 2 years ago. It’s unexpectedly relevant!

Short answer: by mass, under 10% , assuming he would have weighed approximately 70 kg. By function, quite a bit.

The long answer.

I’m going to write this starting from what is most readily observable and readily inferred to the least. In appreciation of this being a work of fiction that treats physical laws lightly, I too am taking a more-or-less approach and will keep technical terms to a minimum. I'm also not a medic and I don't play one on TV -- assume generous hand-wavium. Items in {curly brackets} are incidental notes you can skip.

Level 0: Canonically observable. The least controversial observation is that Genos does have an organic brain. Genos does not live in a lab, but is able to live largely independently, including being able to eat whatever he likes with no ill-effect. Not just that, but he lives an active and hard-fighting life that appears to do him no permanent harm (I will return to this in a few paragraphs). What can we take from this?

Edit: There is also ONE’s initial settings for Genos, which I quote here from the Hero Data Book

ONE: There's no need to visit Dr. Kuseno's place every time when his wrist break down, because he got his own spare parts at hand. Dr Kuseno's Lab is there In case for a big reparation job, a drastic upgrade or an examination.

It’s tempting to think that because we see that he definitely has a brain that’s all there is – the brain in a jar phenomenon, so to speak. Something a lot of people miss is that the spinal cord proper isn’t optional either -- it’s a core part of the central nervous system. Spinal cords are a lot shorter than most people think they are, averaging 12 inches long for women and 15 inches for men. The rest are nerve processes that can be cut and will regrow (within limits). We’re also happy to allow for nerves and their endings -- there must be an interface for the prosthetics so they're under the fine voluntary control that we see. However, that’s not all that there can be. The Cartesian mind-body duality is completely wrong when it comes to physiology. Our brains are intimately bound with our bodies and our bodies with our brains. So what does one need?

Level 1: Perfusion. This is the most obvious one. Without a blood supply providing oxygen, glucose and removing waste products from our brains, we have 4-5 seconds of consciousness available, 2-3 minutes in which we can escape brain damage and 8-10 minutes in which not to die. So, number one is a reliable blood supply. Absolutely necessary therefore are a means of generating the various blood cells, perfusing and distributing them and disposing of damaged cells (red blood cells have a lifespan of 1-2 months). While not as acutely important, a self-sustaining blood supply is also the basis of a functioning immune system. It's a bit of an oops moment when your super-killer cyborg catches a cold and dies.

Accordingly, bone marrow is essential as a source of hematopoietic (blood-forming) stem cells. A suitably reduced blood vessel and lymphatic vessel system is also needed to run the blood where it needs to go. {An awesome feature of living beings is that new blood vessels will be recruited to where they need to go and redundant branches pruned back, a process known as vascular remodelling}. A reduced liver and possibly spleen will be needed to appropriately destroy worn out blood cells. At least one functional kidney, in the role of producing the hormone erythropoietin, without which red blood cells will not be formed. Not essential: a heart and lungs, which he definitely doesn't have. How much blood is needed? I’ll come to that answer once we’ve tallied how much body is needed.

Additionally, since part of perfusion is getting rid of metabolic waste, a liver and kidney will be absolutely indispensable.

Level 2: Homoeostasis. A living organism has a very narrow range in which its internal environment, such as oxygen saturation, temperature, pH (acidity or alkalinity) amongst other things can vary without harm.

There are around 40 or so hormones, the signalling molecules that keep us going as functional concerns, regulating such things as blood pressure, salt/water balance, available energy, sleep cycle, body temperature, mood, immune system... the list goes on. Each has a stupid number of secondary functions and interacts with others in a ludicrous number of ways (note highly scientific language). Their levels vary and change on the order of seconds to hours. It's a good job that the main organiser of homoeostasis, the hypothalamus, is part of the brain. {Incidentally, this is why a brain-dead cadaver cannot be kept ‘alive’ on life support indefinitely – everything falls out of sync and eventually to pieces.} To do this artificially is to have your cyborg never leave the lab: if you're not constantly monitoring and adjusting levels, then they will die. Fortunately, as mentioned, a living, functional brain has the control network needed to keep everything working without the extensive and expensive effort. Just add air, water and food (in that priority).

At this point, we've already met most of the organs needed to maintain homoeostasis in their capacity of maintaining a blood supply. We need to add some bone, not just to serve as a niche (living environment) for the bone marrow and its stem cells mentioned previously but as a source and sink for minerals, the adrenal glands and the thyroid gland. Finally, one must not forget pancreatic islets -- or it'll be for nothing as he goes into a diabetic coma.

Level 3: Energy. Speaking of food, a brain needs essential fatty acids for turnover and lots and lots of glucose for energy. It’s entirely possible to supply nutrients as total parenteral nutrion (TPN for short). People whose digestive systems have completely failed get individually formulated TPN solutions, which requires that they spend several hours a day feeding it into their blood supply. Not something we see Genos do. And yes, you heard it here: not everyone poops, but everyone sure as hell pees. While a brain only weighs about 1.5 kg, it uses up about 500 calories a day as glucose, so 700 ish calories a day should suffice for all the needs of his live mass. This bears no relationship to the amount of food we see Genos put away on occasion. Why hasn’t he wrecked his liver in a matter of weeks? The answer would appear to lie in the artificial digestive system Dr. Kuseno has given him which turns food into biofuel. It must be patched into a feedback loop which allows it to only supply what’s physiologically necessary at any given time. Lucky for some!

Level 4: So how much body does that add up to exactly? Nothing says you have to keep the necessary organs and blood vessel network the same size. With only a 1.5 kg brain to support, many can be shrunk a good 50% if not more. A total living mass of 7 kg would be quite feasible. We know from organ-on-a-chip experiments (and from unfortunate people who have lost part of their organs) that provided the essential architecture of the tissue is respected, they will work fine. Nothing says you have to keep them in the same place as the original organs were -- you can encapsulate it all in a can and shorten the nerves serving the organs to a more rational, manageable length. It's nice and compact and can be protected as heavily as the brain is.

Now we’re in a position to answer how much blood Genos has. There are about 70 ml of blood per kilogram of body weight, so at ~ 7 kg, we’re talking about 500 ml of blood. For comparison, the typical 70 kg person has 5 litres of blood. Why does this matter? Because it allows us to answer a question many may be curious about: how often does Genos get hurt?

The answer is: Almost Never. With so little body, and with most of that body consisting of aptly named vital organs, even small injuries can turn catastrophic in no time. Genos will bleed out with around 150 ml of blood loss, which is less than half of what is donated in a typical blood donation. Horrible and dramatic as the smashes he gets into are, it’s more akin to a Formula 1 race car tumbling end over end and catching fire, only for the driver to walk out unscathed. His cyborg parts are replaceable and can be sacrificed to protect what’s irreplaceable if need be.

#OPM #cyborg #Genos #meta #ONE hides things in plain sight #because they don't make sense until they do

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kusunogatari · 5 years

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[ ObiRyū October | Day Fifteen: The Other Children ] [ @abyssaldespair ] [ Uchiha Obito, Suigin Ryū, Suigin Reiji ] [ Verse: White Hands of Healing ] [ Previous || Next ]

There’s a noticeable tension in the house this morning. Lying awake in bed long before he needs to be, Reiji stares up at the ceiling, brows wilted and greys flickering as he thinks. He’s never been so nervous in his entire life.

Granted, his life has only lasted about six years so far, but...well, up until this point, nothing has ever had him quite so rattled. It’s this morning that Reiji is to attend his first day of school at the Academy.

At first, it wasn’t even a certainty that he would go. While a bit of a mixture of his parents in appearance, he took an early shine to his mother’s side of things when it came to chakra. Given his age of course, neither Ryū nor Obito had yet to give him any real training in either of their fields. Both, admittedly, had assumed he would follow their path. But as his introductory year loomed closer, they finally sat and had a talk about it.

“What do you think, Reiji?” Ryū had asked, giving her son a smile. “You can do whatever you want to do. You can learn to be a medic, or a shinobi...or anything else! Would you want to go to the Academy?”

Reiji, only five at the time, had glanced between them nervously. While neither of them gave any sign of bias, just looking to him curiously, he still felt a pinch in his gut. If he chose one...would the other be disappointed?

“Can...can I still learn to heal if I go?”

“Of course you can! But we don’t want you to put too much on your plate at once,” Obito advised. “You might wear out.”

“But...I can…?”

“If that’s what you want,” Ryū confirmed with a smile. “We just want you to be happy.”

He’d agonized over it for days, weighing his options. Even at that age, Reiji knew of the scarcity of his bloodlines. There were only two other Uchiha besides his father...that being his uncle Sasuke and his child. And his mother was the very last of her clan, though they had always been rare. If he only learned to be like one...then the other might be lost forever…!

In truth, he wasn’t sure if he was suited to be a shinobi. Like his mother, he was a bit meek, shying from the idea of hurting someone. But...Obito had told of how shinobi weren’t just fighters. They were protectors. And Reiji certainly wanted to protect his family.

So, after nearly a week of thinking, he decided he would go.

Now that the day is here, however...he’s been doing nothing but thinking over his decision again. What if he’s making a mistake?

“Reiji…?”

Broken from his thoughts, he looks to his door, seeing his mother peering through. “Kāchan…?”

“I had a feeling you might be awake.” Stepping into the room, Ryū crosses until she can perch on the edge of his bed. “...nervous?”

He gives a shy nod.

“It’s okay to be nervous. This is something brand new, that you’ve never experienced before. But I promise everything will be just fine. You’ll get to make some new friends, learn new things...it’s going to be great!”

“Really…?”

“Really. And you know your father and I will do all we can to help you.”

That takes a slight edge off of Reiji’s nerves. “...what if I mess up?”

“Messing up is part of life, dear. Everyone makes mistakes, even the best of us. Did you know your father missed the entrance ceremony when he was your age?”

“W-what?!”

Ryū nods, unable to help a smile. “But he still made it into class just fine. And he graduated, and became a shinobi despite making mistakes. He didn’t become a chūnin his first try, either. And...well…” Something falters in her expression, Reiji tilting his head in curiosity. “...your father, as we’ve told you, followed a bad path for a while. But in the end, he chose to make things right. So, as long as you keep trying, and do your best...things will turn out all right in the end. I’m sure of it.”

“So...if I don’t become a shinobi, or...or a medic...will you and tōchan be...angry?”

Ryū’s eyes widen in shock. “Of course not! Reiji, the only thing that matters to us is that you live a happy and healthy life. Maybe you wouldn’t like being a medic, or a shinobi. But that’s just how things are. Everyone is different. You just give it a try, and see how you feel. If you don’t think it’s the right path for you, well...we’ll keep looking until we find it. Okay?”

“...o-okay…”

“Now...it’s about time to get up, so you get dressed, and I’ll go start breakfast. Your father is already up, too.”

“Will you…both come with me?”

“Of course we will.” Gently ruffling his hair, Ryū gives Reiji a smile. “Everything’s going to be fine. No matter what happens, your father and I will always support and protect you.”

A few more of his doubts settled, Reiji nods and rises as his mother takes her leave. A light jacket is pulled on over his shirt and trousers, making his way into the belly of the house.

Obito, seated at the table, immediately notices his son’s entrance. “There he is! Are you excited?”

“I guess so…”

“Ah, don’t worry. It’s okay to be nervous. All the other kids will be, too - it’s the first day for everybody!”

Moving to sit, that gets Reiji to pause. “...yeah…” He hadn’t considered that.

Ryū then brings over their plates, and the little family has their breakfast together.

“Will we have a test the first day?”

“I don’t think your sensei will be that evil,” Obito laughs. “It will probably be mostly getting to know everybody, and asking what you know. You won’t start any real work until tomorrow. And your first year will be easy!”

“And I’m sure you’ll make lots of friends,” Ryū adds with a smile.

“What if nobody likes me…?”

“Impossible,” Obito counters. “You’re too nice not to make friends.”

“Just be yourself, and people will make up their own minds. You’re a very sweet boy, Reiji. You won’t have any trouble, I’m sure.”

Once the meal is done and dishes cleaned up, Reiji’s parents help him pack up his bag and start the trek to the Academy. Ryū takes one hand while Obito takes the other, the three of them leaving the house behind. All the while, butterflies continue to hatch out in Reiji’s stomach. Like his father told him, he tries to remember that everyone else will be nervous, too.

The yard outside the building is filled with both old and new students and their parents, many standing in groups and chatting as they await the sensei for each class. Reiji doesn’t really recognize anyone...he hasn’t had much chance to meet anyone his age yet. Any kids in their neighborhood are a few years older than him.

And it doesn’t take long to notice something...odd.

Though no one directly stares at them, there’s a strange sort of...separation between his family, and everyone else. None of the other children make to approach, or any of the adults, either. Glancing up to his parents, Reiji tries to understand. Ryū’s expression is neutral, eyes scanning the yard. Obito, on the other hand...looks a little tense.

“...tōchan…?”

His father glances down, and then manages a flicker of a smile.

“First year students, this way please!”

Hearing the call, Reiji tenses. But at the same moment, he feels tightening grips on both his hands.

“You’ll be just fine,” Ryū assures him.

“And we’ll be here to pick you up once your classes are done.” Obito takes a knee. “...just remember, no matter what anyone else says...you’re a good boy, Reiji. And we love you.”

Though meant to be reassuring, his father’s words only bring a small spark of worry to his gut. But there’s no time to discuss it as the other first years gather around their new sensei. Slowly slipping from his parents’ grip, Reiji gives them a nod, jaw clenched and chin trembling.

Obito slips an arm around Ryū, the pair of them watching as the children are led into the Academy.

“...do you think this was the right choice? What if someone -?”

“It’s going to happen sooner or later,” Obito murmurs. “We’ve tried to be open at the proper pace. I think he’ll be fine. He knows enough to make that call for himself.”

Brow wilted, Ryū leans against him with a sigh. “...I hope so. I just don’t want someone giving him trouble on our account.”

“You mean my account.”

“You know what I mean.”

“We can’t hide the past from him forever.”

“And I don’t want to! I just...want to tell him when the time’s right. Having him here, around the other children...it might be out of our hands.”

“If he has questions, we’ll answer them. We knew this would happen eventually. Someday, he has to know what I did. And then...he can make up his own mind.”

Ryū glances to her husband, seeing the conflicting emotions in his eyes. “...you’re right. He loves you. You’re his father, and you’ve changed. I’m sure he’ll understand. Just like I did.”

“...I hope so.”

Hhhhh, I'm...not sure I like this one OTL For some reason I just could NOT get into this one. I left and came back several times, and just...phhht. Maybe I'll revisit it later, since I wanted to add a scene IN the classroom, I just...don't feel it today, I guess. Admittedly I've got some burnout going on between irl stuff, and two daily challenges for the month. But I WANNA do these, so...darn it, I'ma do them. Today's just a blegh day. But yes, for now that's all for this one. I'll try and come back to it another time and give it a bit more substance. Thanks for reading~

#obiryū october #abyssaldespair #uchiha obito #suigin ryū #suigin reiji #white hands of healing [ canon verse ]

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minyoongijjangjjangmanboongboong · 6 years

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The Parting Chapter Seven

Description: The only certainty in life is death, and it seems to follow Park Jimin. All his life, the icy shadow of death has hung closely by his side, along with the shadow of…something else. Reapers exist to guide the souls of the living to the world beyond. But what happens when a particular Reaper tampers with the natural order and saves a mortal boy’s life? What will they do once their fates become inextricably linked?

Genre: Supernatural, Drama, Fluff, Angst

Pairing: Jimin x (f) OC

Word Count: 8.8k

Tags: Flower Shop Owner!Jimin, Reaper!OC, Non-Idol!AU, Cop!Yoongi, Supernatural!AU

Warnings: Death, swearing and mentions of alcohol, although infrequently

A/N: HI BABES! How are you all doing? I hope you’re doing well and if you’ve started school already, then I hope you’re not feeling too stressed. I’m still working on all the requests I have, but don’t worry! If you’ve requested something, then I will get through it within the next week or so. I’m sorry for the delay! I just have to juggle a bit between writing this fic and writing requests. As always, I will respond to all asks received within a day of receiving them, so feel free and feel comfortable sending me anything! And please send feedback, criticism, comments or concerns my way so I can address them.

AHH! And please follow @actualsoonshine! She’s such a lovely person, and my IRL friend and she just started her writing blog! If you like Seventeen and BTS, you will LOVE her!

- Mercury

Previous Chapter – Next Chapter

Chapter One

Masterlist

Weekly updates: Sunday, 1PM (PST)

Jimin sat up gently and turned to me, brows furrowed. “Nari, are you alright?”

I sobbed as I looked at him. I could tell from the innocent, fretful expression on his face. He didn’t remember. I felt inside me something altogether new. A nameless frustration that manifested in tears. I never knew I’d become so hungry for answers. I never knew that having those answers appear before me and then suddenly disappear in one fell swoop would be so incredibly infuriating. I wiped my eyes and shook my head as Jimin propped himself upright, eyes scanning me worriedly.

“You don’t remember anything?” I asked, desperation sitting heavy like fog in the air.

He shook his head. “I’m sorry. Sometimes I sleep walk a little and I don’t remember it in the morning,” he said, voice low as he scooted closer to me on his knees, placing his hands on my wet cheeks. “Nari…”

I sniffled, eyes cast on the linoleum. “It wasn’t that,” I said.

He gently guided my face closer to his so I would look at him properly. “What are you talking about? You’re starting to scare me a little.”

I felt more tears brewing in my chest, but became powerless to stop them as I looked at his pure expression. He wasn’t lying. He wasn’t withholding information from me. He simply…didn’t remember. Just like that.

“I had a dream,” I said quietly. “A really strange dream.”

He nodded. “Did you remember something? Is that why you’re crying?” he asked.

I shook my head and shooed his hands off my burning skin. “Forget it,” I said, standing shakily to my feet. “Just…go to bed.” I began towards my room but stopped short as he grabbed for my wrist, fingers tight.

“Wait! We agreed that we’d start trusting each other more. Talk to me,” he said. He was begging me.

I sniffled once more and considered shaking him off again, considered going back to bed and burying my head in the sheets where I could cry and cry and greet him in the morning as if nothing had happened at all. But he spoke again, and when he did his voice broke.

“Please.”

I turned to look at him. Perhaps subconsciously, he wanted to remember too. Perhaps deep down he knew there was something between us that went deeper than either of us imagined. Perhaps we were both the keys to unlocking it. And perhaps…perhaps if I told him what I’d been dreaming, if I let him in just a little…

Perhaps we could solve it together.

I sighed and settled on the small couch, watching the rug as Jimin joined me. “You said you knew who I was,” I said.

He stiffened beside me. “I…I don’t know why I would say something like that.”

“Me either,” I said, then met his eyes. “But you know it means something, right?”

He blinked rapidly a few times before sighing and grabbing at tufts of his hair. “I don’t know, Nari. Earlier, I was mostly playing around. Do you really think there’s something weird between us?”

I nodded. “More than I can even say,” I said. “I’m certain of it.”

He watched me carefully, reading me. He stared at me long enough for Miso to leave his bedroom and pad over to us. Long enough for me to hear the refrigerator kicking on. Long enough for my tears to nearly stop. And, after an eternity, he nodded and his hand fell from his hair to his lap.

“Okay…assuming that’s the case then…what does any of it mean?” he asked.

I sighed, patting my chest and shutting my puffy eyes. There really was a special sense of relief that came from confiding in someone. “I don’t know. But Jimin…I’ve been having really strange dreams.”

Jimin tilted his head to the side as Miso jumped onto the arm of the couch, peering at us with glowing eyes. “What kind of dreams?”

I shook my head and turned to him properly, grabbing his forearm. “Jimin, do you know what shinbyeong is?”

Jimin cocked his head and pursed his lips. “I…I’ve heard of it. It has something to do with old shamanism. Like…when a shaman was becoming a shaman they say that they’d go through shinbyeong. It’s like…,” he paused and glanced into the middle ground, thinking. “I’m trying to remember what I learned about it from high school, but it’s something about the death of the self. Like, assuming a god as yourself.”

“What?” I asked, shaking my head. “That’s impossible.” I’d have known if the spirits of gods were entering the bodies of humans. And, furthermore, I’d never even heard the term before having those dreams. “What happens during this time?”

He shrugged. “I think…it was kind of like out-of-body experiences? Hallucinations or something?”

I sighed. “It doesn’t help much,” I said. “I’ve been having dreams that I was a poor girl a long time ago. I can’t tell exactly when but I can approximate. There were kings and a royal astronomer.”

“Goryeo?” he asked.

“No,” I said. “The language wasn’t so unfamiliar. It was Joseon.”

“Huh,” he said, then shook his head. “I know this is weird, but do you believe in reincarnation?”

I shook my head. “I do not,” I said, releasing his forearm. That much was true. I did not know where souls went after being Reaped, but I knew they didn’t fly off to another body.

“Maybe you should start,” he commented, then sighed and leaned back against the couch, running a hand through his wild, fluffy hair. “Honestly, it sounds like you’re remembering a past life.”

“That’s impossible, Jimin,” I said, meeting his eyes.

He shrugged. “Why?”

Because I was not human. Because I was a Reaper. Because this was the first time I’d ever been in a human body…

Wasn’t it?

I shook my head. “Jimin, it is impossible.”

I watched him swallow roughly before he glanced away and nodded. “Then…I don’t know, Nari. It’s weird. What else did you dream of?”

“I had a family,” I said. “A younger sister and a mother and a grandmother.”

“No men? In the Joseon era?”

I nodded. “We were in the lowest social class. Cheonmin.”

He raised his brows as Miso hopped agilely off the side of the couch and onto his lap. “Not slaves?” he asked.

I shook my head. “Seems like shamanism ran through the family, although my sister was not affected. My mother did not believe in it,” I said, then coughed slightly. “Or…whoever they were.”

Jimin inhaled sharply. “And…you said I woke up saying I knew who you were?” he asked, his eyes tinged silver in the moonlight.

“Yes,” I said, watching his jaw work, clenching and unclenching.

“I…I’m sorry, but I don’t know,” he said, then huffed, causing Miso to startle and jump across the couch to my lap. “I’m so sorry, Nari.”

I shook my head. “It’s not your fault, but…,” I began, them glanced at him. His expression was weak, frustrated. “I wonder if perhaps you also had a strange dream.”

His eyes snapped towards mine. “I…I mentioned that I dream about wearing a hanbok a lot, right? Back at the hospital?”

I conjured the memory and, although it was only a week ago it felt like a lifetime. Sitting in the sterile room. Talking of dreams… I nodded. “I remember.”

“I…Nari, I know you don’t believe in this stuff, but whenever I’d have a dream like that my mom would tell me it was just…deja vu. From my past life,” he said, then scoffed. “It sounds so stupid saying it out loud, but with everything you’ve been dreaming of…it’s the only thing I can think of.”

I furrowed my brow. How did I know for certain that reincarnation was impossible? Just because I didn’t see it myself? I was a Reaper after all. I only dealt in death, not what happens after…

I sighed. “So you think…I’m remembering a past life?”

He nodded. “I don’t understand it, but,” he began, grabbing my hand, “maybe since you lost your memory…different memories are returning.” His words came out quiet, careful, like they were meticulously hand-chosen.

I nodded. “It is the most reasonable conclusion for the time being,” I said, then gave his warm, soft hand a squeeze. “If I remember anything else, can I come to you?”

He nodded eagerly and flashed a bright smile. “Of course! Anytime.”

I forced a smile and glanced away. “Thank you.”

He blinked at me and chuckled, a fluttering, nervous sound. He patted the top of my hand and withdrew his own. “Y-You’re welcome,” he said, laughing once more as he rubbed the back of his neck.

I stared at him for a long moment, scanning his soft features, the kiss of blush in his cheeks. I sighed, long and slow, and nodded. “We’ll figure it out together, then.”

I counted the bills in the cash register quietly the next morning, Jimin retrieving new buds from the greenhouse and placing the pots prettily along the countertops. Jin had Wednesdays off, so the two of us worked quietly alone. As I counted the last of the money I tilted my head to the side, furrowing my brow. Jimin’s shop was surprisingly wealthy for such a small place. I glanced at him as he worked, a soft smile on his lips, lashes brushing against his cheeks as he focused on the pots. I smiled too. There was some relief at least in sharing my burdens.

The front door bells tinkled and a patron entered the shop. I was midway through standing straighter to greet them when I saw who it was. “Oh, Jisoo,” I said with a chuckle.

She approached the desk, her hair pulled back with a delicate floral pin on one side. She leaned forward at the waist and rested her hands on the counter, her chin on her hands. She smiled up at me and, coyly, turned her head to the side slightly, revealing the pin. I glanced at her, placing the money into Jimin’s tackle box, and took a proper look at her new accessory. As I did, my eyebrows raised and I smiled.

“Lilies,” I said.

She grinned and leaned away, popping her hip to the side and resting a hand on her pleated skirt. “Pretty right?” she asked.

I nodded. “It suits you,” I said. “But I get the sense that there’s something more to it.”

She laughed and nodded her head eagerly. “It’s a gift,” she said, flipping her tidy hair behind her shoulder. “From that boy.”

My eyes widened. “You don’t say!”

She nodded. “I do say.”

Jimin approached and stood beside me, easily draping an arm over my shoulders. I felt myself flush and glanced away, back towards the register. “Our Jisoo looks so pretty today!” he exclaimed, laughing.

Jisoo rolled her eyes. “I’m not going to take compliments from any other boys from now own,” she said, then smiled at her hands, clasped around the handle of her book bag. “Since I have someone I like now.”

I grinned. “What progress you’ve made!”

She met my eyes and nodded vigorously. “It’s thanks to you! After we talked yesterday, I realized it was better for me to be there for him like he really needed rather than trying to take care of him without him knowing.”

“And?” I encouraged.

She smiled. “And it turns out he knew it was me all along,” she said, bashfully rubbing the back of her neck. She chuckled. “He was just waiting for me to come and talk to him properly. He bought this for me after I got him that bouquet you recommended, Jimin.”

“Ah, the lilies,” I said, nodding.

Jisoo cocked her head to the side and peered up at me. “But you weren’t there, Nari. How would you know?”

I coughed into the crook of my elbow and shook my head. “I just meant the lilies on your hairpin,” I said.

She furrowed her brow and nodded. “Well, anyway we’ve agreed to eat lunch together now.”

“Good for you, Jisoo. I’m glad things worked out so well,” said Jimin, then chuckled softly. I felt it rumble in his chest, just beside my shoulder. My heart thundered. “Although I don’t really know what you’re talking about exactly.”

Jisoo waved her hand. “I’ll fill you in later,” she said. “For now, I’d better get to class. I just wanted to show Nari the pin.”

I couldn’t help the smile that touched my lips. I met her eyes and gently reached across the counter to smooth her hair down, tucking it behind the pin carefully. “It looks beautiful.”

She beamed at me. “Thank you,” she said. “I’ll be sure to come visit again sometime soon! Maybe I’ll be able to bring him with me this time.”

I nodded. “I’d love to meet him.”

“Me too!” added Jimin, leaning one hand on the counter as Jisoo ran out the door and onto the sidewalk, waving wildly over one shoulder. “She’s cute,” he remarked.

I slipped from beneath his arm and nodded. “She is a good girl.”

Jimin smiled down at me. “You like her don’t you?” he asked.

I glanced away. “Of course not. I’m…fond of her precociousness.” I cleared my throat and ran a hand through my hair.

He flicked the side of my head and shook his own. “You’re allowed to care about people,” he said, then chuckled. “The way I see it, you care a lot more than you realize.”

I stiffened. “How so?” I asked.

He shrugged. “I know you have some information that would’ve put Jungkook in a tougher spot,” he said, turning on his heel as he made his way back towards the greenhouse. He glanced at me over his shoulder and smiled. “But you chose not to share it. I wonder why.”

I blinked at him. “It’s nothing special! Just…,” I began, but by the time I’d composed myself enough to respond, cheeks aflame, he was already walking into the greenhouse, chuckling and waving at me before shutting the door.

I pushed a grocery cart while Jimin piled food items into the basket: breads, meats, packages of ramen and other processed food I didn’t even recognize. We rode through the aisles together, the fuzzy overhead speakers playing a song that was popular ten years ago. Few people were roaming the store in the middle of the day, the aisles sitting pristine before us as we turned down each one. Jimin paused in front of the cereal boxes, causing me to bump his hip with the shopping cart. I backed away and stared at him with wide eyes.

“Sorry,” I said, glancing toward the cereal. “What’s wrong? We need to get back to the store soon.”

Jimin waved his hand at me. “Say, Nari what do you like? Like…food?” he asked.

I stiffened and pursed my lips. “I…wouldn’t really know.”

He sighed and nodded, still stewing over the cereal. “I wanna take good care of you so you can remember something more.”

My cheeks warmed and I smiled at my hands, clamping them around the cart a little tighter. “I’ll be fine regardless of which cereal you purchase, Jimin.”

He pouted slightly and nodded. “You’re right.” He smiled at me and grabbed a box before jerking his head toward the register.

The employee checked our items and stowed them neatly away, and we made our way out towards the exit. We only made it a few paces before a familiar, joyful voice called after us, “Hey!”

I turned towards the back of the store and noticed an older employee smacking the back of another employee’s head. Dark, untidy hair. Red patterned bandana. I smiled. Jungkook had gotten a job? I decided not to bother him while he worked and instead adjusted my hold on the groceries.

Jimin opened the door and held it for me to walk through, but as he did, he stepped back to walk beside me. Our steps were identical as we walked through the empty aisle. Every swaying step we took caused the backs of our hands to brush just slightly. Neither of us moved slightly to prevent it. Neither of us even looked at the other. But there was a strange shift occurring. I’d noticed it particularly in recent days. Jimin was becoming more and more comfortable touching me. Under normal circumstances, perhaps I’d have found it strange. But maybe I was too enamored. Maybe a part of me believed that if I allowed us to move closer…I could figure something out. Capture something elusive about those odd dreams which had been evading me. After all, it seemed we were intertwined somehow.

Or was I just giving myself an excuse to be greedy?

We walked back to the store, chatting idly, each of us holding two pager bags of groceries.The weather was fine and, for a brief moment, I was grateful to have a body to enjoy it with. I felt my senses were rather acute, like my body was anticipating something. I glanced around, down towards the uneven pavement, up towards the bleached buildings, up towards Jimin’s grinning face. We neared the shop, the greenhouse catching sunlight and sending it off in prisms. My steps slowed and Jimin matched me subtly as something caught my eye on the ground. Glittering in the light, fractals of something sat at awkward angles. I could almost swear it was glass…

As we approached the steps up toward the apartment, I paused. Jimin was still engrossed in his story about a middle school soccer game, but my attention was seized. “Wait,” I said, holding my hand up and resting the groceries on the bottom step of the stairs.

Jimin stopped and stared down at me. “What’s wrong?” he asked.

I shook my head and walked, tentative, towards the front of the shop. Something was pooling in my stomach and I recognized it at once. I’d felt it the night I’d saved Jimin.

Dread.

I stopped dead in my tracks as I stared at the front of the shop. I’d been right, this fractals on the ground were shards of broken glass still falling onto the ground from the windowsill as the breeze knocked them around. It must have occurred rather recently, as the door stood swinging on its hinges. I took high, careful steps around them to avoid puncturing the toes left exposed by my sandals and held my hand up behind me as Jimin approached too quickly.

“Hold on,” I said, eyes set on the floor. “There’s glass.”

“What?” he asked, and I heard his steps rushing forward despite my warning. “Wait, why-,” he began, then stopped speaking as he noticed the broken window. “Oh my God.”

I nodded and wrapped my palm in my shirt, trying to preserve any residual DNA, twisting the door handle. “I’ll go look around-,”

“Absolutely not,” said Jimin, grabbing my shoulder and wheeling me backwards.

I stared up at him with wide eyes. “Excuse me?”

He shook his head. “Nari, you could get hurt. What if someone’s still in there?” he asked.

I furrowed my brow and cocked my head. “Then I’ll be able to identify them.”

“Nari,” he said, tone stern and low. My heart raced. “I said you could get hurt.”

I shrugged. “If so, then that’s fine. I’d rather catch the culprit,” I said, then sighed at the damage in front of me. From what I could see in the store, numerous pots had been shoved from the shelves and the cash register had been forcefully pried open. Thank God I’d removed it that morning. “You’ve already been attacked. What will I do if that man isn’t caught?”

He stared down at me with smoldering eyes and a stiff jaw. “Nari, this isn’t something to take lightly. This is damage of property. Someone forced their way into the shop. They might have a weapon.”

I remembered what Yoongi said. If anyone else died, it was on my shoulders. After years of taking lives, why now did the thought of being responsible for someone’s death feel so serious?

I sighed and shook him off. “Jimin, does that matter?” I asked. “What if this is the only chance we get to catch him? To clear Jungkook’s name? To keep you safe?”

He leveled his gaze with mine and set his lips in a straight line. “If you go in there, I won’t forgive you.”

I swallowed hard, catching a hint of that earthy smell he had on the lazy breeze. I glanced away, back towards the ground, and chewed on the inside of my cheek. The day Hyungwon and I had fought, I was certain Jimin would hate me. I was certain that after everything he said, every request of his that I hadn’t heeded, he would surely cast me aside. But he’d forgiven me. Surprisingly easily, at that.

But this time…he wouldn’t. I could see it in his eyes. Normally lustrous and bright, now the endless brown of his eyes seemed dark, troubled, serious. I blinked at him before taking a step back, away from the shop’s front door. I sighed and crossed my arms, shaking his hand off my shoulder, and walked towards the steps beside the shop, sitting down beside the groceries we’d left behind.

Quietly, Jimin approached and pulled his cell phone from his back pocket. He typed a number and pressed it against his ear without looking at me. He was silhouetted beautifully against the radiant sun, and normally I’d have admired it for a moment. But I was frustrated. Frustrated with him.

Just like that day with Hyungwon, it felt suffocatingly familiar.

I rested my head against the railing and sat with crossed arms as Jimin began speaking. “Hey. Someone broke into the shop. I don’t know when, but…,” he paused and listened quietly, voice terse. “Yeah. I’m not comfortable having Nari here, so could she maybe…yeah, that’d be good.”

My eyes snapped towards him and I furrowed my brows. He avoided my gaze. “Jimin,” I said, loud enough for the person on the other end to hear.

He cleared his throat. “Alright. We’ll wait here for you…five minutes? Okay.” He hung up the phone and slid it into his back pocket, coming around to sit beside me on the stairs.

I edged away and leaned against the railing once more. “Sending me away?” I asked.

“It’s safer.”

“I sincerely dislike when you decide things like this for me,” I said, staring out at the stone wall separating the street from the cliff face. “It infuriates me.”

He sighed. “It’s because you are totally incapable of making normal decisions,” he said.

I scoffed and angled my body away from his. “I am making perfectly rational decisions,” I said, then shrugged. “Seems you prefer to choose emotionally.”

“Do you just, like…not value your life? Or what?” he asked, clearly getting riled up.

I watched a car zoom past and rolled my eyes, although I wasn’t sure when I’d learned to do that. “Nothing would have happened, and if it did that would have helped your case,” I said. “Now the perpetrator is long gone from here. No chance of catching him now.”

Jimin laughed, but it was bitter. “Alright, so it’s my fault for wanting to keep you safe.”

“Yes,” I said. “What value do I have if not to help you?” I asked, then shook my head. I’d said too much.

He huffed. “That’s insane. If you really think that way, then it makes me very uncomfortable,” he said, staring at me with heavy eyes.

I met his gaze and furrowed my brow. “You have no idea what you are talking about,” I said, surprised at the bite in my own words.

He raised a brow. “I don’t? Then explain it.”

How could I? How could I tell him that the only reason I was human was because of him? “Forget it. Just…ignore me,” I said, settling once more against the railing. “This conversation is meaningless.”

“Do you really like me that much?” he asked, a cruel laugh escaping him. “You hardly know me. Please get a handle on your feelings.”

I felt my throat tighten. I tried to remember a time in the years I’d watched over him when he’d said something so unkind. Nothing came to mind. Did he really think all that? Did he truly want me to collect my emotions and settle them somewhere else? After asking me to trust him, after touching me and smiling at me and making himself dear to me? Was that really fair? I glanced at him and saw his gaze was locked far away.

“If that’s what you want,” I said, nodding. I watched two police vehicles slow to a stop on the side of the road and stood to my feet, walking towards them.

Jimin sighed and I turned to watch him kick a bag of groceries harshly, scattering the contents across the cement. I shook my head and walked to the edge of the sidewalk. Namjoon exited the first car while the second one idled. I stiffened as his penetrating eyes landed on me. Was he perhaps still upset with me? Had he not had enough time to cool down? My heart pounded.

Slowly, he offered a small, dimpled smile which set my nerves at ease slightly. I sighed and retuned the gesture. “Hello,” I said.

He bowed his head. “Hi,” he said, then examined the damage over my shoulder. “God…I’m sorry you’ve been through all of this.”

I shrugged as Jimin stood beside me. “I suppose I’m only involved by proxy,” I said with a dismissive shrug. “I shouldn’t be especially bothered, should I?”

Jimin groaned. “Nari!” he exclaimed beside me.

I met his eyes and shrugged. “It’s true isn’t it? They’re your problems after all,” I said, returning my attention to Namjoon. “What should I do? Jimin’s sending me off somewhere, right?”

Namjoon nodded. “Yoongi is waiting in the other patrol car. Please go with him to the station,” he said, smiling at me.

I sighed and felt my shoulders fall. “I think I would prefer the crime scene,” I mumbled, but as I turned to look at Jimin I found his brows lowered and his gaze sturdy, irritated. I swallowed and bowed my head to him. “I’ll be going then.”

I stepped away towards the second patrol car and opened the door. Yoongi stared straight ahead, not so much as making eye contact with me. I settled beside him and latched my seatbelt. “Are you not assisting Namjoon in this investigation?”

Yoongi bristled and his grip on the steering wheel tightened. “He thought it would be better to keep me and Jimin apart for a little while.”

I chuckled as he started the engine. “I suppose that’s best.”

“And you?” he asked with a smirk and a sly glance my way. “You’re being exiled too.”

I stiffened and leaned back in the seat, watching the road before us as it stretched along the cliffside. “Just drive.”

Yoongi had a surprisingly gentle expression while he worked. I sat opposite him at his unruly desk, reclining against the stiff chair he’d given me as he shuffled through papers. Occasionally, a sigh would escape him or he’d work a hand over his jaw. Watching him that way mad a thin sliver of guilt course through me. Of course he was rough and caustic, but I wondered if perhaps he had a reason to be. I wondered if I’d been to quick to write him off. Perhaps, just like Jungkook who looked rather harsh, he was soft inside. Maybe he was like Hyungwon: scaly exterior revealing an innocent heart. I watched him carefully. His eyes stayed steadfast on his papers, scanning then, and now and then his dark hair would slip onto his eyelid and he’d flick it away with a huff and a pout.

Half an hour passed before he spoke.

“Can you stop staring at me?” he asked quietly.

I continued observing his fine motions as he lifted his gaze to meet mine. “What else am I meant to do?”

He sighed and sat upright, folding his arms across his chest. “Why did Jimin send you away?” he asked. “Aren’t you his pet or whatever?”

Indignation rose in my chest and I sat straighter. “I am not,” I said, remembering Jimin’s words. He wanted me to sort out my feelings after all. “I wanted to investigate the shop in case the person responsible was still inside, but he opposed.”

He chuckled. “You sure you’re not his pet?” he asked.

I opened my mouth to retort, but simply sighed and shrugged. I’d grown tired of fighting. “I think I’m worse than a pet,” I said, shaking my head. “Even Miso makes her own choices.”

Yoongi raised a brow. The air between us was different than before, perhaps less acidic. I wondered what could have caused such a shift as he smiled softly and arranged his papers. “Well…for what it’s worth, I think you had the right idea.”

I nodded. “It’s only rational.”

“I agree.”

“And if I got hurt, then at least he would have been caught,” I said. “We gave him every opportunity to get away, and then afforded him extra time for cleanup.”

“It was a critical time period that could have been used to further the investigation,” said Yoongi with a nod as he set the documents aside and laced his fingers, resting his chin atop them as he examined me. “I’m surprised we think alike for once.”

I set my lips thin and glanced away towards the wall beside me. “Perhaps we think alike in more ways than we know,” I said with a shrug.

He chuckled. “You never know.”

“Do you have any hypotheses about who could have done it?” I asked.

He shrugged and leaned back in his cushioned chair. “Well, it’s most likely the same man who stabbed Jimin in the first place. He’s a target now.”

I furrowed my brow. “It seems likely but…,” I began then sighed. “But the reasoning seems strange. You’re watching for him very closely. Why would he make such dangerous moves just for one victim that escaped?”

“Seems like a rookie move,” he said with a nod. “It’s weird.”

“Do you still think it’s Jungkook?” I asked quietly, watching his expression fall slightly.

“I don’t know,” he said. “Truth be told…well, what you said the other day kind of messed with me. Am I looking at this case objectively or am I trying to force the pieces to fit my own narrative? For my ego?”

I raised my brows. “You thought about it?”

He scoffed. “Am I an idiot?” he asked, sighing and averting his eyes. “Of course I thought about it. You had a point anyway.”

I smiled. Humans were pretty charming. “Well I’m glad you’re moving on to other suspects.”

He glanced up at me. “We haven’t yet though,” he said. “And especially after today. Intimidation is usually associated with gang activity. And with the crowd Jungkook runs in-,”

“It wasn’t him,” I said. “This time I’m certain. Jungkook was working.”

Yoongi raised his brows. “Working?”

I nodded. “At the supermarket.”

Yoongi laughed. “He tried to rob the owner and now he’s working there?” he asked, smiling to himself. “That kid…”

“So he has an alibi.”

Yoongi shifted forward to look at me. “Or it’s more elaborate than that,” he said, smirking. “Maybe they did it during his shift to take the heat off of Jungkook’s back.”

I stiffened. “I…I don’t think so,” I said, rubbing my chin. “Hyungwon and Taehyung came with Jungkook to the shop yesterday evening. They were nothing but cordial. Apologetic even.”

Yoongi exhaled slowly. “All I’m saying is that it’s possible this is more complex than we think,” he said.

I nodded. “On that, we agree.”

He smiled, almost mischievous, and glanced at me. “That’s twice today.”

I shrugged. “Please don’t read too much into it.”

He nodded. “Well…I guess you’ve been kinda helpful,” he said with a sigh. He crossed his legs and rested his hand atop his knee. “Talking with you gave me some new ideas.”

I pursed my lips. Again, nobody was in the facility. I supposed in such a small town the police force wasn’t all that large. Distantly, I heard the hum of chatter, perhaps coming from one of the private offices. But in that dim, cold room I couldn’t help but feel slightly sympathetic towards Yoongi. How often was he alone here? “Do you not have anyone else to talk with about the case?”

He shook his head. “Joon’s giving me the cold shoulder lately,” he said, then laughed. “Nobody else in the office likes me all that much, so they’re not options.”

I shook my head. “That doesn’t seem right.”

“Hm?” he asked, eyes round, almost doe-like.

I swallowed and glanced away, disarmed. “Well…you should maintain healthy interpersonal relationships if you intend to live a healthy life.”

He laughed. “Weird way to say I’m antisocial, but…”

I met his eyes and sighed. “You’re not so bad like this,” I said. “If you could show this face to the others…I’m sure they’d like you.”

His high cheeks went slightly pink and he cleared his throat. “Well…anyway, thanks for talking it out with me. You’re…you’re not that bad either, Jane Doe.”

I blinked. “What exactly is this?” I asked, pointing between us. “Are we friends now?”

He sputtered a laugh and leaned into his chair, tilting his head back as he continued laughing. “Where did that come from?” he asked.

I shrugged and pointed at him again. “You were being warmer to me! I only assumed naturally based on the conversation and atmosphere-,”

“Acquaintances,” he said, nodding. He smiled at me. “Acquaintances until we don’t benefit each other anymore.”

I blinked. “Rather…pragmatic.”

He nodded. “Gotta be in life,” he said. “Anyway, you want some coffee? I’ve got some in the back.”

I cringed at the memory of that bitter drink and shook my head. “No thank you.”

He chuckled. “We’ve got some snacks too. How about you come take a look and see if you want anything,” he offered, standing and gesturing towards the break room in the back of the office room.

I followed suit. As I stood to my feet and dusted off my pants, Yoongi turned to me and, with a smirk, added, “Please don’t read too much into it.”

Yoongi offered me a copy of a novel Namjoon had loaned him, Demian, to read while he worked. We sat quietly opposite one another, neither one intruding on the other’s private time. A half-empty cup of sweet orange juice sat in front of me as I reclined against the chair, letting my mind wander as I read the story, scanning the pages easily as a comfortable silence enveloped us. Every now and again, Yoongi would make a sound that would rouse my attention, causing me to move only my eyes to inspect him. Every time, I found him in the same position: gaze downcast, tabbing through papers or typing at the computer, elbows resting firmly on the desk. It was as if his body was making the noises without his knowledge. Little coughs here and there, exhalations that sounded like sighs. I wondered how much stress he was under.

Again, guilt descended upon me. Was I doing the right thing opposing him so steadfastly? Was I defending Jimin by opposing him? Or was I simply being cruel? I was learning every day that the world was not as binary as I used to think. Right and wrong, sympathy and apathy, one side and the other. It seemed everything was separated not by uncrossable roads but thin, transparent, fading lines. My eyes fell again upon the worn pages of Namjoon’s book as Sinclair spoke about the painting of the woman.

“We’re back,” called a voice from the entrance.

I snapped upright and glanced towards the source. Nearly two hours had passed, with noon turning to midday without my notice. Namjoon sighed and removed his light jacket, setting it atop his desk as Jimin followed behind with crossed arms. I watched him, gauging his expression for any sign of regret or apology.

None was present.

I crossed my legs and returned to my book, sparing Namjoon a soft smile as he approached. “Did you find him?”

He sighed. “Unfortunately no,” he said. “Looks like he fled the scene pretty quickly after breaking in. He tried to rob the register and then ran on foot out the back through the workroom.”

I nodded. “Do you have a timeframe for the incident?” I asked.

Namjoon settled in the seat beside me as Jimin lingered to the side, avoiding looking at Yoongi who was avoiding looking at him. “Probably fifteen to twenty minutes before we got there.”

I hummed. “Pretty quick,” I remarked, then met Jimin’s eyes from my seat below him. “I can’t help but feel like I could’ve done more. Since it happened so shortly before we arrived.”

Jimin inhaled as if to speak, but Namjoon beat him to it. “We wouldn’t want you risking getting hurt just to find this guy,” he said, rubbing his forehead. “If it really is the killer, he’s already hurt enough people.”

I shrugged. “Might’ve helped the investigation at least if I’d gone inside.”

“I agree,” said Yoongi. “Who cares about personal injury when a killer is walking around?” he asked. “Seems like Nari is thinking seriously about all of this.”

“Enough,” said Jimin, sharp eyes scanning me. “Nari wasn’t thinking. That’s the problem. Being brave and being careless are different.”

I glanced at Namjoon who shifted uncomfortably in his seat with a sigh. “Anyway, do you have any leads?” I asked.

He shook his head. “Since Jimin doesn’t keep cameras in the shop, there’s not a lot to go on.”

“Hm,” I said, sipping my orange juice. “I like this book, Namjoon.”

He glanced at the novel in my hands and grinned. “Oh yeah? Yoongi let you borrow it?” he asked, then chuckled. “It’s a good read.”

I smiled and handed it to him. “I like that line — what was it?” I began, flipping through the files of memories in my mind until I landed upon it. “If a person is afraid of someone, it’s because he has allowed that someone to acquire power over him.”

Namjoon’s brows raised. “Funny, I liked that line too,” he said.

I peered up at Jimin as he sighed and crossed his arms. “Nari, we should leave. I’m booking you a hotel room.”

I stood up and scoffed. “When was I going to be informed of this?”

“Just now,” he said, jerking his head towards the exit. “Let’s go. It’s right down the street. I’ll walk with you.”

I rolled my eyes. “No. If you’re going to make me stay someplace, then I may as well stay here,” I said, turning towards Yoongi who watched us bicker with a sly smile. “You operate during the night, right?”

Yoongi shrugged. “Sure do.”

“Nari!” shouted Jimin, setting his jaw firmly. “Let’s go.”

I huffed. “If you continue to insist on being my benefactor, then I have no choice but to refuse!”

“What’s wrong with that? I’m just trying to take care of you since you don’t have anyone else to do it! You seem pretty damn ungrateful to the person who’s been taking responsibility for you,” he said, shaking his head.

I nodded. “Responsibility?” I asked, all anger fleeing from my body, replaced with something far worse. Hurt.

He raked his hands through his hair. “I can’t deal with you right now. Meet me outside or don’t,” he said, waving his hands before turning on his heel and storming out the front door.

I stared after him before sighing and rubbing my forehead. “I’ll go then,” I said.

Yoongi laughed. “After all that?” he asked.

I smiled softly and shrugged. “I never intended to be obstinate until the end,” I said. “I just…I want him to understand me.”

“He’s having a hard time,” said Namjoon gently from below, giving me a smile. Although there was still something odd between us, uncomfortable.

I glanced away. “I know. I will try to be softer with him,” I said, then smiled at Namjoon. “May I come back sometime to finish the book?”

His back went straight and he nodded quickly. “Anytime you want.”

I nodded. “Thank you for keeping me company, Yoongi,” I said, waving at the dark-haired man as he chuckled my way, tossing a lazy hand in the air in response.

I walked outside to find Jimin leaning against the front of the police station, kicking dirt on the ground. It seemed there was still something irreconcilably different about the two of us. Despite promising to figure things out together, I was beginning to wonder if we could. We were both too stubborn, perhaps. I was used to being alone and making my own decisions, so his well-meaning care felt like an imposition. Likewise, Jimin was likely used to caring for himself so caring for another person could be difficult.

And besides, I was nothing more than a responsibility. An obligation.

I was a burden to the one person I valued above anyone else.

He lifted his heavy gaze to meet mine and sighed. “Why fight if you’re gonna do it anyway?” he asked.

I said nothing and simply stood at his side. “If you’ll tell me where the hotel is, I can go alone,” I said, avoiding meeting his eyes.

He groaned and threw his head back. “Jesus Christ, Nari. Enough of the drama!” he said, grabbing my shoulders and forcing me to look at him. “I’m looking out for you.”

“I understand,” I said, nodding. “Now if you’ll just tell me where it is-,”

“God damnit!” he shouted, shoving his hair off his forehead before taking my hand in his and wheeling me down the street.

I struggled against his grip. “No! Jimin, no! I can go alone!” I yelled, writhing backwards.

He was stronger than me, however, and easily overpowered me. He walked ahead, clasping my hand so tightly the blood rushed out of it, and led the way down the sidewalk. After a few moments of protesting, I sighed and simply walked behind him, watching the ground as my feet slapped against it. There was a heavy silence, the kind that you can feel, and I jammed my free hand in the pocket of my slacks.

The hotel came into view at the end of the block and I was thankful for the rather short walk. But my legs were tired from keeping up with his ruthless pace, so once we entered the lavish lobby and Jimin released my hand to speak with the receptionist, I gave my thighs a quick squeeze before massaging my wrist. He’d been too rough — not rough enough to hurt me, but rough enough to make me sad. He’d mentioned that he was scary when he was angry, but I never imagined that anger would be turned on me.

Perhaps I really was a heavy burden.

He turned back to me and, without looking at me, took my hand once more. His grip was softer this time, more yielding. I walked beside him with furrowed brows, watching his face as he stared ahead. He didn’t even spare me a single glance, simply pushing the call button for the gilded elevator and leading us inside silently. He pressed the button for my floor and released my hand to fold his arms over his chest, brow heavy and eyes dark.

I wasn’t going to be the one to break the silence. Not for stubbornness or hurt, but rather because I’d lost the confidence to speak comfortably with him. How long had he been seeing me as a responsibility? How much of what he’d done for me had been done out of obligation? How much had I asked of him without even knowing it? The fact alone that he wished for me to settle my emotions for him was telling enough…

We arrived at the tenth floor and he walked out first, leaving me again to follow. This time, however, I didn’t fight. I simply walked a few paces behind him in silence and when he slid the electronic key through the reader in one of the doors and swung it open, I walked inside after him. He placed the plastic key card on the table in front of the big bed and turned to me, meeting my eyes for the first time since we entered the hotel.

“You’ll stay here until I get the shop cleaned up,” he said.

I swallowed and glanced away, towards the wide windows behind his back overlooking the endless ocean. “I can just…go stay at the police station instead,” I said, rubbing my hands together.

He stiffened and stared at me. “What?” he asked.

My throat felt tight. “I never considered the position I’d been putting you in all this time. I feel like I may have overstayed my welcome and expected too much from you,” I said with a nod.

He sighed. “Is this because of what I sat outside the shop? About sorting out your feelings?” he asked.

I shook my head and met his eyes. “It’s not just that,” I said, forcing a smile. “Of all the people in the world…you’re the last one I want to burden.”

His expression softened as he looked at me, his brows now knitting. “Nari…,” he said.

“It’s okay,” I said with a smile. “Really. We can still…help each other. But I think I was expecting too much.”

“Stop it,” he said, voice gentle as he walked closer. “You know I say stupid shit when I’m mad.”

I nodded. “But even if you don’t realize it, those might be your real thoughts,” I said. “And you have every right to have them.”

“It’s not that, Nari.”

“Back when Hyungwon tried to hit you, you said something similar,” I said softly, wringing my hands. So much guilt was weighing on my shoulders lately. “You said I’d caused you a lot of trouble.”

“You know I didn’t mean that,” he said. “It slipped out because I was mad.”

“I don’t want to cause trouble for you-,”

“Nari!” he shouted, placing both hands on my face, causing me to meet his eyes. As I did, I felt tears brimming over my eyelids and falling onto my hot cheeks. He wiped them away carefully, smoothing his fingers over my skin. “Do you know how worried I was about you?”

I swallowed my tears, but they kept falling. “What?”

He stepped closer and I stepped back. “Back then and today too. I’m so worried about you, every day,” he said, eyes scanning my face as he set his jaw. “You care so much about me that you’re always putting yourself in dangerous situations. Someday, you’re really gonna get hurt because of me.”

I shook my head. “I told you there’s no other reason for me to be here,” I said. “If I’m not protecting you, then it’s all useless.”

He shook his head. “I don’t understand,” he said gently, thumb rubbing softly against my cheek. Unconsciously, I leaned into his touch. “There’s so much that I don’t understand, Nari. But…more than anything I don’t understand why, from the start, I feel this way about you.”

I stiffened and took another small step backwards, countering his forward step. “What are you talking about?”

“Why does the thought of you getting hurt make me so angry? From the very beginning, I couldn’t stand it,” he said. “I don’t care if you hate me, but you can’t get hurt.”

My skin felt hot, especially so beneath his gentle fingers. “I-,”

He took another step, forcing me back against the hotel door. My eyes widened as I stared up at him. His cheeks were pink and his eyes were tender, warm. “You don’t cause trouble for me,” he said. “But having you around makes me so confused. Because every day I care about you more and I don’t understand how.”

“What?”

“I’ve spent my whole life being careful of people,” he said, the puff of breath from his sigh brushing my hair off my forehead. “It’s…it’s so scary to let people close, you know? They could leave so suddenly and then what?” he said, shaking his head. “So I take my time. Always.”

I blinked. “You have so many friends.”

He chuckled, eyes dropping. “That’s not the same,” he said. “You’re the only one who’s seen me like this. You’re the only one who makes me so mad.”

“That’s a bad thing,” I whispered, more tears spilling.

He shook his head and wiped them away. “You don’t get it,” he said, voice breaking. “I shouldn’t care about you this much. We hardly know each other and still…you’re shaking me up every day.”

My heart fluttered and my stomach felt light, as if I’d fallen from a great height. I balled my hands into fists and scanned his features. “Jimin, what are you saying?”

“I don’t know,” he said, moving his face closer to mine. I could see every detail in his eyes, every long dark eyelash. “But you’re not a burden. It’s not you who needs to sort out your feelings. It’s me.”

I swallowed something tight in my throat and watched him carefully as his hand moved to the back of my neck, holding me in place. “I…I think you’re confused,” I said, but my words were weak like my resolve. I could feel my knees shaking at his proximity. Every centimeter between us was charged, and I was hyperaware of his chest heaving so close to mine.

“Then let me try to clear it up,” he said, nodding at me with worried eyes, as if asking permission.

I could say nothing more. It took everything I had within me to stand erect without falling. He was frustratingly handsome, even up close. Since when had I found him so beautiful? The delicate curve of his lips, the smooth rosiness in his full cheeks, the softness of his hands on my skin. It was inexplicable. And as he moved closer, I didn’t turn away. I was not naive. I knew what he was doing to clear up his emotions. I knew what was coming, even before his lips touched mine.

But when they did, I could no longer keep my eyes open and my hands, holding all the tension in my body, released against my thighs. His lips were soft and gentle against mine, almost pleading, and very warm. I felt his nose brush against my cheek and flush as he eased my lips apart. I didn’t protest. I didn’t want to. The sensation of it was not only intoxicating, it was…familiar.

He took my lower lip between his own, eliciting a gasp from me that made his grip on my neck tighten. Without meaning to, my hands found their way to his wrists, holding tightly to his forearms until one slipped down to my waist, pulling my body flush against his. I was feeling hot, and as he embraced me I felt even hotter. My stomach did flips and my heart was pounding loudly in my ears. He pulled away and unwittingly I followed, only to crash his lips against mine again, forcing me back against the door once more. His hand roamed my lower back and my own raised to clutch his shoulders, fingers digging into his skin. I ran a hand through his soft hair, pushing it back from his forehead as I’d watched him do countless times. He sighed against my lips and chills ran up my spine.

“Nari,” he whispered against me, pulling back once more and opening his eyes. “I…”

I blinked up at him, my face flushed and my hands starting to shake. My knees felt unsteady and I had to hold onto his shoulders to remain standing. As I took in his unruly hair, his reddened lips, and his tender eyes my vision began to blur, darkness encroaching from the sides. I began to feel lightheaded. Was this what happened when humans kissed? Was that why they wrote so many songs about it? He scanned my features, eyes hooded as if he may kiss me again. But as he leaned in once more, the darkness overtook my vision and the last thing I felt was my body collapsing against his.

And the last thing I heard was Jimin’s panicked voice calling, “Nari!”

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takesuhigher · 7 years

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okay, i can’t sleep and i was thinking what if i have another crazy dream and don’t remember this one, so i’m just gonna do this now.

i’m in a car with my parents and brother and we all work at lowe’s. we’re all wearing blue vests (why blue? i’m pretty sure i’ve seen my dad in a red vest before?? guess i’m not sure) and we pull into the parking lot. my dad tells me my results are going to be delivered today and they’ll need to know if i wear satin underwear or cotton. apparently they were going to deliver these results to my dad at work and this was vital information somehow. i get really angry because that’s nobody’s business but then i decide it isn’t that big of a deal and the results are more important. “cotton!” i yell. the doctor’s office is right next door though. there didn’t seem to be any conversation about it, we’re just going directly to the doctor instead. not sure where my mom went but now it’s just me, my dad and my brother. my dad gives me $10 so i can pay. i tell them to go away because i don’t want them hearing my results. this waiting area was the exam room though so that was weird because there’s a patient about to be seen facing my dad and brother. i go over to the doctor (who, irl, is actually the lady at the dentist office who takes the payment. i thought nothing of her working in a gynecologist office in my dream) and ask her for my results.

“it says you don’t want kids because you can’t decide between a girl or a boy.”

huh? i look at the computer screen and it says that i can’t decide between “26 and 21.”

my jaw dropped, i’m stunned. i’m pissed. i can’t believe what i’m seeing and i think, “that’s not true! i chose 21.”

she doesn’t ask for payment so i keep the money. i don’t tell my dad.

now we’re outside walking to work but it’s not lowe’s anymore. there’s a display in the window. there are boxers with miz’s face on them. “i want underwear with miz’s face on them,” i say. then i go inside, but i think i must’ve walked through the window because i’m walking over the stuff on display. notebooks with miz on them! gotta have them but when i picked one up, it wasn’t miz so i put it back. now i’m not sure where my brother is but my parents go to one of the clothes sections. we’re in a department store, like jc penny or something. i step in the main aisle - no longer a department store, i’m in walmart - and i see a lady on my right heading in my direction. she’s got a bag of groceries in her left hand and she’s holding a big bag of corkscrew noodles in her right arm. kinda holding it like it’s a baby. she doesn’t have a very good grip on it. it’s slippery and i think, “i hope she doesn’t lose it.” there was absolutely nothing between that and me now carrying the bag of pasta. “i have to turn this into someone because this lady is gonna relize she dropped it and is gonna come back for it.” this has now become my mission.

i take the bag to where my parents are. we’re in a department store again. i look at the clothes. nothing good. i go over to the checkout area and there’s a woman already talking to the kid at the counter. she’s holding a single uncooked corkscrew noodle and is concerned. wants to make sure it gets back to its owner. my turn. i explain to this guy how the lady will be coming back for these noodles. it’s very important. he doesn’t care at all. i keep pleading my case and he gives in, probably just to get me to leave. he scans the bag with one of those handheld scanners and immediately sees that the bag has been reported missing. now he sees just how important it is.

i ask my dad where i should take the noodles.

“there was a guy in a vest when we first walked in. he’s the manager. take it to him.”

it’s a pretty short walk, though my surroundings are walmart again. turns out he’s not the manager and directs me to another person. i don’t trust these people. i decide i’m just going to go to customer service and turn the bag in.

so, i’m walking down the main aisle. everything on my left is walmart. everything on my right are stores, like you’d see in a mall. i walk and walk and walk. it feels like i’m walking forever. i go into a restaurant. it’s a bunch of wooden booths. it’s empty except for a black mom with her little boy. i approach and the little boy goes to sit with his mom. i took a wrong turn. i gotta get outta here. i climb over their booth, which is in the shadows and i think, “i can barely see them.” i step over the wall of this booth and walk back towards the main aisle. turn right, continue on. so much walking. i’m not tired from the walking, but i’m very aware of how long this is taking. there’s customer service. “there’s no way they’re gonna be able to help me,” i decide, and so i keep walking. so much fucking walking. i get to the end. it’s a giant food court. i’m starving. all the menus are on the ceiling, big print. everything sounds so good. but i’ll stick with the safe bet, what i know i’ll like and it’s quick and easy. i approach a guy eating pizza in front of the pizza place counter. i avoid eye contact and then i look at him and say, “i’d like a slice of pepperoni pizza…please.” he goes behind the counter, gives me the pizza and i pay with the $10.

okay, i made a mistake. i have to go back to customer service. so, i begin walking again. eating my pizza. i finish and finally, i can see customer service. but then, about twenty feet in front of me to my left, a man walks out of a door. there’s a man behind him with a gun. i think this asshole is gonna rob the place. the jewelry department is to my right, i head over there to hide. a male shopper sees the man with a gun and pulls out his own gun. he’s gonna stop him. a second shopper pulls out his gun and i think, okay, they’ll deal with this. it’ll be over in a second.

the bad guy ends up running through the jewelry department, shooting his gun. i get down low to hide. no big deal, i’ll just move out of the way. “it’s so easy NOT to get shot,” i think. luckily he doesn’t see me, runs right past me. everyone is panicking and evacuating. the bad guy, being chased by the two other guys runs towards the food court… and people run in the same direction. why is everyone freaking out? i don’t really understand the chaos. my parents are way on the other side of this place, so they should be safe. let me just turn these noodles in and then i’ll go find them.

so many people running. ugh. i get pretty close to customer service and then i’m outside. it’s nighttime. i’m on the left side of the road, walking. cars zipping past me, trying to get out of harm’s way. i don’t recall holding any noodles. i start running. faster and faster. there’s a car next to me. i can see the speedometer. 80…90…100 mph. I’m running so fast. “I’m like The Flash,” i say. (very strange, me running. i can never run in dreams.) my energy runs out. not because i’m tired though. it’s like i lost the speed force. can’t run anymore. now i’m on the right side of this road. it’s light out.

fuck, the bad guy is right behind me in a car, being pursued by the two men in their own cars. i run into a clearing on the right hand side to get out of the way but the bad guy sees me. he’s on an ATV with a shotgun. he’s not as thin as he was when i first saw him. he’s a bit porky, white guy, wearing sporty sunglasses. he sees me and i know exactly what he’s thinking. his plan failed so he might as well kill me. i run. he fires. it wasn’t a bullet. it was the size of a softball, maybe a bit bigger. brown. it’s gonna explode in a second and shrapnel will hit me. i hunker down behind a dirt mound. i wasn’t hit. i get up, turn around and he’s coming right at me, aiming his gun at my face. i grab the barrel and push it away but he’s stronger than me. he’s gonna blow my head off. just as he was pulling the trigger i wake up and proceed to try and catch my breath for almost an hour.

#bullshit #dreams #vivid af #*it was rotini #sp?

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eurekakinginc · 7 years

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"VR Is Going to be Like *Nothing* the World has Ever Known - It Will be Utterly Transformative"- Detail: There has been plenty of back and forth about what the impact of this or that technology was going to be. From radio to television we have argued over how these innovations have changed the world for better or worse. But regardless of how exceptionally amazing each technology has been in turn, they all have one thing in common, even advances like the internet and VR/AR. When you are done with them, you return back to "real" reality and continue to live your life in "actual" reality. A place where you have to submit to your biology and the laws of physics, for better or worse. Also "real" reality just looks and feels a heck of a lot better (Hopefully that is. It can be pretty hellish at times too.) than VR. For now.Within less than 10 years I am confident our computing power, AI and VR technology (I'm sure AR will advance too, but that is not really my point here.) will advance to a point where my VR experience is far and away better than your "actual" reality experience. We see a primitive hint of this in the soon opening "Ready, Player One" motion picture. The special effects in that movie look truly amazing! What a universe awaits us!I would imagine that by the year 2045 or when this movie takes place that such a technology as envisioned in the year 2016-2017 will appear laughably quaint and limited to us. Think "Lawnmower Man" CGI.Today VR is large bulky, facially abrasive, sweaty and claustrophobically isolating hmds. And the lenses smudge easy. Well goodness, VR has been commercially available for what, about 2 years now? Think of the first commercially available mobiles in the 1980s. The concept of such a device being a supercomputer in our pockets was over 30 years in the future then. We still had 10 to 20 years of making a decent phone out of it yet.Todays VR is so far from our ideal. The resolution is abysmal. The FOV is like a ski mask or a diver's mask. If you really want to see decent VR you have to be tethered. If you have not experienced "tethered" VR, not counting the PSVR, then you have not experienced VR. I have an Oculus Rift and I know. I also have an abundance of mobile VR devices I can stick my IPhone X into. It's keen, but in no way constitutes the presence and immersion of tethered VR.But new gens are on the way. Resolution and FOV are at the top of the list of things to improve. The content itself is a bit more subjective. It depends what you want to see in VR. But I would state that right now it is "limited". What I would really, really like to see for example are some of my alt rock songs presented with VR imagery like a sort of VR MTV. I was able to pretty comfortably piss away most of my "1980's" watching MTV. BTW if you did not personally experience MTV in the 1980's, you do not know what MTV was. There has never, ever been anything like it since. MTV permanently lost my interest by the early 1990s. Diversification (Ugly, but true. It is a human problem that society must learn to see with better eyes. Something I believe our arc towards a VR future may render irrelevant) and replacing videos with programming=MTV death. What a godsend phenomena that was in it's heyday though. I think such an application to VR alone would make a true "killer app". Heavily balkanized to each individual taste I guess. And of course with better resolution and FOV. Hollywood is making tentative, year 1889 style steps towards making motion pictures for VR.But earlier on I stated my VR would be far superior to your RL. I want to expand on that and what it means. The technology to bring the rest of our senses to VR to include removing the urge to vomit from "sim" sickness are all in the works as well. Humans are a clever species and we shall quickly make convincing tactile sensations a reality. Easily less than 10 years. Already gloves and suits are close to commercial release within a year or two. You know, for all of it's laughable CGI and screenplay "Lawnmower Man"( A motion picture adaptation of "Flowers for Algernon" with a twist.) was dead on right. In the 1980s it precisely knew what the future held when it came to the VR. I think we shall be smart like him too, but that is a topic for another text post day. I think the more difficult aspects will be enabling convincing senses of smell and taste. And how we would be able to experience proprioception and orientation in true virtual worlds to me falls under the auspices of "magick" rather than engineering at this time. But I think we will figure even that out too. Every teeny tiny detail of reality we shall figure out how to simulate and exploit within VR. Tour the world in far better detail than ever possible IRL and need never leave your living pod, or in my case, apartment. My personal belief is that it will just take minor resolution and FOV improvement to make VR a potential severe societal "addiction" issue.Because my VR world will be far superior to your RL world, you will also seek my VR world. So will everybody else. And this to me is what will mark the change in humanity. Also bear in mind that there will be some pretty awesome AI in various forms in existence too by this point. Remember that nothing is in a vacuum and everything tends to synergize everything else. Our forms of computing, our forms of energy generation or exploitation and the AI that I suspect will be part of us by then will have a tremendous influence on what happens next.I believe that in the next 50-100 years that we shall reach a critical mass of humanity or what humans may already be starting to derive into, that we shall figure out how put VR into our heads without going anywhere or doing anything. I try to think of dreams where I actually am running or driving or swimming or flying to get a sense of what that would be like. A sort of "structured" lucid dream experience, wherein you remain fully "reality" conscious. The virtual world or even universe of that point would allow among other things, true magic, within a given realm. Things like X-men and vampires and zombies and fireballs don't exist IRL because they are not supported by physics as we currently understand it. In a screenplay or videogame that sort of thing exists just fine. Now extrapolate that into virtual worlds. In a very real sense, all of that could actually "exist" in their own realities of our digital making. If our coding (if we can still call it that) says it can exist, it can exist. On top of that we would have true "superpowers" of our own. The ability to "fly" being prime. To inspect a given scanned structure from any angle or distance. We can already do that a little bit even today in GoogleEarth VR or "High Fidelity". I already discussed that at length in an earlier commentary if you are interested.http://ift.tt/2DGkqHL this point, it becomes difficult even for the brilliant likes of me to prophesy-- I see our science today in the year 2018 learning to understand ever finer "grains" of what makes reality, reality. Observing that is one thing. Exploiting such is yet in the realm of the impossible. Well, by 2018 standards anyway. Will we one day be able to fool with the quantum probability waveform? Our time-space? "Other" dimensions? (I mean like travel to other dimensions like in that show "Fringe". I mean if they actually even exist.) Not the "curled up" teeny stuff "dimensions" that may yet constitute our reality. Those are two very different concepts of "dimensions".--But I will try anyway. The first thing I see falling by the wayside is biology itself. It is true that we realistically do not have a clue how consciousness works today. And we may not even 20 years from now. But the thing about humans is how clever we are and how we figure out workarounds for different things. Also don't forget about that darned AI and the soon to debut quantum computers. They are totally looming over all of this. Oh I almost forgot! The exponentially improving "classical" computer processing power alone!How we would move my "self" to a "nonliving" substrate, but I would still theoretically be able to have fun all the time, is thinking that is way over my pay grade. Oh yeah, and it has to be "me" too. Otherwise it is a lucky copy of me and I'm stuck in my ratty old biology still. Man, that would be for the existential birds, wouldn't it! Nevertheless since our brains are made of atoms and non-living substrates are made of atoms, well, I'd bet it is probably physically possible. In say like one or two hundred years or so. We'd need some new discoveries and insights between now and then I'm sure. The concept and early development of the BMI (brain machine interface) even today gives me confidence that we shall succeed in this. We are making humanoid robots today that are pretty stiff yet, but they are getting better quickly. Remember all those suspension harnesses and "wrist thick" cables from a few years back? Where did they all go?? I seen the other day that they are getting ol' "Sophia" walking even. Pretty soon she will be running. And jumping. And backflipping like all the other robots are going to.We will merge our minds with those forms.This gif is a bit primitive in concept, but just extrapolate it into about 10 or 20 years into the future..."Holy Shit! I Caught It!" http://ift.tt/2DdSdHq the interim sees us as "conscious robots", for lack of a better term, that may yet explore "reality" like space and stuff, but pretend we are biology still in our virtual worlds. This is kind of the part I'm looking forward to. As in I am a god in this VR universe, but I can self limit myself to be a lowly little human and just experience humanity and simulated history and stuff. But I can't get hurt and I'm comfortable all the time. And "flying" as a superpower would be the tip of an incomprehensibly immense "iceberg". By this point, without getting too sacrilegious, we would be approaching the omniscient, omnipotent and omnipresent. Unlike this crappy real life reality where I actually am a lowly little human who had to get a root canal yesterday for crying out loud. Blecch. (Major props to my awesome endodontist and 21st century technology though!) Unfortunately I am looking at all of this through the "smudgy" lens of a 57 year old life in the year 2018. That "AI mixing with humans business" may make us beyond anything I can fathom or even imagine. For example we might have VR universes all right, but to 2018 me it would all look like math or fractals or TV static or some other weird thing that does not make sense to me. But would make perfect sense to 2518 me. Yes, That soon. Yes. And in the meantime plenty of cool, interesting and entertaining VR stuff to keep us occupied. Just the arguments in r/futurology alone..!I would add some more predictions like us turning into a fully hive minded non-corporeal sentient energy that can exist outside of what we think of time and space, but that is getting too far from what science can do for us today and more meta than anything. (Although, I think this is how it's actually going to go. Maybe in less than a 1000 years too!)TL;DR OMG! The VR is going to rock! It is going to be beyond anything you can imagine in less than 20 years. It is going to become a societal addiction problem. Everybody is going to want it so much that we are going to engineer our minds to live within it. We will derive into VR and VR will derive into us.. Title by: izumi3682 Posted By: www.eurekaking.com

#future #prediction #technology #trending #breaking #science #scientist #engineer

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dailytechnologynews · 7 years

Photo

VR Is Going to be Like *Nothing* the World has Ever Known - It Will be Utterly Transformative

There has been plenty of back and forth about what the impact of this or that technology was going to be. From radio to television we have argued over how these innovations have changed the world for better or worse. But regardless of how exceptionally amazing each technology has been in turn, they all have one thing in common, even advances like the internet and VR/AR. When you are done with them, you return back to "real" reality and continue to live your life in "actual" reality. A place where you have to submit to your biology and the laws of physics, for better or worse. Also "real" reality just looks and feels a heck of a lot better (Hopefully that is. It can be pretty hellish at times too.) than VR. For now.

Within less than 10 years I am confident our computing power, AI and VR technology (I'm sure AR will advance too, but that is not really my point here.) will advance to a point where my VR experience is far and away better than your "actual" reality experience. We see a primitive hint of this in the soon opening "Ready, Player One" motion picture. The special effects in that movie look truly amazing! What a universe awaits us!

I would imagine that by the year 2045 or when this movie takes place that such a technology as envisioned in the year 2016-2017 will appear laughably quaint and limited to us. Think "Lawnmower Man" CGI.

Today VR is large bulky, facially abrasive, sweaty and claustrophobically isolating hmds. And the lenses smudge easy. Well goodness, VR has been commercially available for what, about 2 years now? Think of the first commercially available mobiles in the 1980s. The concept of such a device being a supercomputer in our pockets was over 30 years in the future then. We still had 10 to 20 years of making a decent phone out of it yet.

Todays VR is so far from our ideal. The resolution is abysmal. The FOV is like a ski mask or a diver's mask. If you really want to see decent VR you have to be tethered. If you have not experienced "tethered" VR, not counting the PSVR, then you have not experienced VR. I have an Oculus Rift and I know. I also have an abundance of mobile VR devices I can stick my IPhone X into. It's keen, but in no way constitutes the presence and immersion of tethered VR.

But new gens are on the way. Resolution and FOV are at the top of the list of things to improve. The content itself is a bit more subjective. It depends what you want to see in VR. But I would state that right now it is "limited". What I would really, really like to see for example are some of my alt rock songs presented with VR imagery like a sort of VR MTV. I was able to pretty comfortably piss away most of my "1980's" watching MTV. BTW if you did not personally experience MTV in the 1980's, you do not know what MTV was. There has never, ever been anything like it since. MTV permanently lost my interest by the early 1990s. Diversification (Ugly, but true. It is a human problem that society must learn to see with better eyes. Something I believe our arc towards a VR future may render irrelevant) and replacing videos with programming=MTV death. What a godsend phenomena that was in it's heyday though. I think such an application to VR alone would make a true "killer app". Heavily balkanized to each individual taste I guess. And of course with better resolution and FOV. Hollywood is making tentative, year 1889 style steps towards making motion pictures for VR.

But earlier on I stated my VR would be far superior to your RL. I want to expand on that and what it means. The technology to bring the rest of our senses to VR to include removing the urge to vomit from "sim" sickness are all in the works as well. Humans are a clever species and we shall quickly make convincing tactile sensations a reality. Easily less than 10 years. Already gloves and suits are close to commercial release within a year or two. You know, for all of it's laughable CGI and screenplay "Lawnmower Man"( A motion picture adaptation of "Flowers for Algernon" with a twist.) was dead on right. In the 1980s it precisely knew what the future held when it came to the VR. I think we shall be smart like him too, but that is a topic for another text post day. I think the more difficult aspects will be enabling convincing senses of smell and taste. And how we would be able to experience proprioception and orientation in true virtual worlds to me falls under the auspices of "magick" rather than engineering at this time. But I think we will figure even that out too. Every teeny tiny detail of reality we shall figure out how to simulate and exploit within VR. Tour the world in far better detail than ever possible IRL and need never leave your living pod, or in my case, apartment. My personal belief is that it will just take minor resolution and FOV improvement to make VR a potential severe societal "addiction" issue.

Because my VR world will be far superior to your RL world, you will also seek my VR world. So will everybody else. And this to me is what will mark the change in humanity. Also bear in mind that there will be some pretty awesome AI in various forms in existence too by this point. Remember that nothing is in a vacuum and everything tends to synergize everything else. Our forms of computing, our forms of energy generation or exploitation and the AI that I suspect will be part of us by then will have a tremendous influence on what happens next.

I believe that in the next 50-100 years that we shall reach a critical mass of humanity or what humans may already be starting to derive into, that we shall figure out how put VR into our heads without going anywhere or doing anything. I try to think of dreams where I actually am running or driving or swimming or flying to get a sense of what that would be like. A sort of "structured" lucid dream experience, wherein you remain fully "reality" conscious. The virtual world or even universe of that point would allow among other things, true magic, within a given realm. Things like X-men and vampires and zombies and fireballs don't exist IRL because they are not supported by physics as we currently understand it. In a screenplay or videogame that sort of thing exists just fine. Now extrapolate that into virtual worlds. In a very real sense, all of that could actually "exist" in their own realities of our digital making. If our coding (if we can still call it that) says it can exist, it can exist. On top of that we would have true "superpowers" of our own. The ability to "fly" being prime. To inspect a given scanned structure from any angle or distance. We can already do that a little bit even today in GoogleEarth VR or "High Fidelity". I already discussed that at length in an earlier commentary if you are interested.

http://ift.tt/2AIC1kf

Beyond this point, it becomes difficult even for the brilliant likes of me to prophesy-- I see our science today in the year 2018 learning to understand ever finer "grains" of what makes reality, reality. Observing that is one thing. Exploiting such is yet in the realm of the impossible. Well, by 2018 standards anyway. Will we one day be able to fool with the quantum probability waveform? Our time-space? "Other" dimensions? (I mean like travel to other dimensions like in that show "Fringe". I mean if they actually even exist.) Not the "curled up" teeny stuff "dimensions" that may yet constitute our reality. Those are two very different concepts of "dimensions".

--But I will try anyway. The first thing I see falling by the wayside is biology itself. It is true that we realistically do not have a clue how consciousness works today. And we may not even 20 years from now. But the thing about humans is how clever we are and how we figure out workarounds for different things. Also don't forget about that darned AI and the soon to debut quantum computers. They are totally looming over all of this. Oh I almost forgot! The exponentially improving "classical" computer processing power alone!

How we would move my "self" to a "nonliving" substrate, but I would still theoretically be able to have fun all the time, is thinking that is way over my pay grade. Oh yeah, and it has to be "me" too. Otherwise it is a lucky copy of me and I'm stuck in my ratty old biology still. Man, that would be for the existential birds, wouldn't it! Nevertheless since our brains are made of atoms and non-living substrates are made of atoms, well, I'd bet it is probably physically possible. In say like one or two hundred years or so. We'd need some new discoveries and insights between now and then I'm sure. The concept and early development of the BMI (brain machine interface) even today gives me confidence that we shall succeed in this. We are making humanoid robots today that are pretty stiff yet, but they are getting better quickly. Remember all those suspension harnesses and "wrist thick" cables from a few years back? Where did they all go?? I seen the other day that they are getting ol' "Sophia" walking even. Pretty soon she will be running. And jumping. And backflipping like all the other robots are going to.

We will merge our minds with those forms.

This gif is a bit primitive in concept, but just extrapolate it into about 10 or 20 years into the future...

"Holy Shit! I Caught It!" http://ift.tt/2FlqAxB

So the interim sees us as "conscious robots", for lack of a better term, that may yet explore "reality" like space and stuff, but pretend we are biology still in our virtual worlds. This is kind of the part I'm looking forward to. As in I am a god in this VR universe, but I can self limit myself to be a lowly little human and just experience humanity and simulated history and stuff. But I can't get hurt and I'm comfortable all the time. And "flying" as a superpower would be the tip of an incomprehensibly immense "iceberg". By this point, without getting too sacrilegious, we would be approaching the omniscient, omnipotent and omnipresent. Unlike this crappy real life reality where I actually am a lowly little human who had to get a root canal yesterday for crying out loud. Blecch. (Major props to my awesome endodontist and 21st century technology though!) Unfortunately I am looking at all of this through the "smudgy" lens of a 57 year old life in the year 2018. That "AI mixing with humans business" may make us beyond anything I can fathom or even imagine. For example we might have VR universes all right, but to 2018 me it would all look like math or fractals or TV static or some other weird thing that does not make sense to me. But would make perfect sense to 2518 me. Yes, That soon. Yes. And in the meantime plenty of cool, interesting and entertaining VR stuff to keep us occupied. Just the arguments in r/futurology alone..!

I would add some more predictions like us turning into a fully hive minded non-corporeal sentient energy that can exist outside of what we think of time and space, but that is getting too far from what science can do for us today and more meta than anything. (Although, I think this is how it's actually going to go. Maybe in less than a 1000 years too!)

TL;DR OMG! The VR is going to rock! It is going to be beyond anything you can imagine in less than 20 years. It is going to become a societal addiction problem. Everybody is going to want it so much that we are going to engineer our minds to live within it. We will derive into VR and VR will derive into us.

#Futurology #Technology #Tech #Studies #Humanity #Development #New #Gadgets

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williamalderwick-blog · 7 years

Text

Love in the age of Facefuck: Iphigenia Baal’s Merced es Benz

Original unedited text; a poorly edited version appeared in Real Review issue 4, Summer 2017. I guess I always was a little bit in love with Iphigenia Baal. I remember seeing glimpses of a whirlwind careening through parties, pubs, gigs, the backstages of shows with all of London’s seedy nightlife scrolling behind her as if the rolling backdrop of a private theatre, moving like a comet burning its own path through the heavens, a singular orbit governed by laws all its own and beware all those that fall within its thrall. I recall a hazy cloud of curling hair, gap toothed, cheekbones, eyes that I now want to say were green, deepest hazel green flecked gems. Eyes that burned right through you, unforgivingly. Contemptuously. They had an intensity, a holding you to something, whatever it was. That’s what I remember most, a kind of smouldering raging intensity to truth — the kind that no one can really live with. She was staff writer at Dazed at a time when, on the dole in a band and sleeping on friends couches or at the studio, I thought being on staff to write was just about the greatest job anyone could have. Somethings never change. And she was simply beautiful. Beauty like in a Greek myth, with something timeless to it, otherworldly, at once raw and serene. All carried with such attitude, an always more hardcore than you kinda attitude. I guess I was struck. Intimidated. From afar, a distance. I never really knew her, of course, friends of friends of an acquaintance, the occasional party, a couple of words here or there, nodded acknowledgement outside an opening, doorways, corridors, street-level passings by. Stories and rumours and gossips…I guess I was a little bit in love with the idea of Iphigenia Baal. I’m probably wrong about the eyes. And so a decade later, in another life, Miss Baal’s second novel arrives in a package for me at the office sent by her publisher. Merced es Benz is a love story, a non-fiction novel charting the relationship between the author and one Ben Thomas — seemingly the love of her life. Bookended by Baal’s own reflective prose, we’re witness to the relationship through a little over eight months of Facebook posts and chats, SMS, BBM, email, and google searches. It’s an exhaustive record of every digital exchange between them. From SMS setting up a date or time to meet, likes on each other’s posts or updates, arguments raging across different handsets, emails, sponsored posts, Merced Es’ google search results into drug networks, police informants, flights to Australia. A transcript of all the links and communiques between them logged in the system run out in chronological order. Objet trouvé. Print All. It’s all text-speak dialogue, slanged abbreviations, the ping-pong chat messaging we’re conditioned to now. Bite-sized fluid snippets. Situated in the media that now frame our social exchanges, it feels utterly modern. And it reads quickly. Pages are scanned, scrolled rather than read. The layout echoes user interfaces — like the wireframes used to blueprint a webpage design. And yet it’s also antiquated, a rolling-back to an archaic version — Facefuck v1.3.2 circa 2011. The drama is often in the details. You find yourself checking the timestamps of text exchanges, noting the gaps, the jumps, the ellipses. Merced Es traveling across London to meet Benz, only to be stood up, the messages repeating, ten minutes, twenty minutes, two hours no response, ‘where are you’s turning to anger then rage towards the other who only resurfaces the next morning. Everything feels real, and these are conversations, relationships, exchanges, acts of dickishness and inconsolable rejection that everyone can relate to, has been, played out. It’s London love baby, utterly relatable stories as old as the hills and bitched across spilling pints in pub corners across the capital forevermore. As a teen, Baal was nicknamed ‘that Mercedes chic’ by her friends for wearing one of the iconic three-pointed-star-in-a-circle emblems snatched from the hood of a fancy MB motor around her neck. In Benz, she finds her completing half. Star-crossed lovers, a real-life Romeo and Juliette for the digital age. Merced es Benz has that touch of fate about it. Love is a fiction, a story we weave, to entwine us together. After opening with their first exchange online, Benz responding to a characteristically disdainful ‘Facefuck’ status update from Merced Es, the book jumps ahead to the immediate aftermath of Thomas’s untimely death from a drug overdose in July 2012. Everything unfolds under the shadow of this tragedy — a death that perhaps if not accidental, if not a suicide, might awfully be wilful. Heartbreak even. A deep sadness pervades the reading of the couple’s exchanges. A constricting fatality born of the knowledge of what is to come. The whole book is a looking back, involving both a deciphering and an occlusion. You read searching for clues why, as well as vainly attempting to forget what you know so as to experience the couple’s shared moments in something approaching an authentic innocence. But death shadows, a constant companion inexorably pulling us back towards the curtain closed. It’s a story of a doomed love told from the surviving half. A story of survival, of the telling required to ensure the other half lives on, can become full again once more. No longer simply that Mercedes chic. There is of course the gap here between the author and her avatar or handle, between Ben Thomas and Benz. Merced Es both is and is not Baal. They elide, and this layering, merging, pulling away, leaving out, this différence, is dynamic. In the same way, all the events and action of their relationship are absent. In between texts or emails we have to guess and imagine what transpired. Read between the lines, and project our own experiences into their exchanges, in order to make sense of the trace. A deciphering of what-must-have-to-have-happened to provoke this. Thus as one looks for the source, for the reasons why, all we have are the traces of events that have always already happened elsewhere. Events that have been removed, isolated, quarantined. What we read is reductive — reduced to a trace that itself is raw, it’s copy itself, a copy of a copy, and we’re left with the bare bones. We see the outlines of rich media, image boxes with no filler, YouTube links vacant. Absentia in media res. Just like the object of love (Benz) himself. Severed from both real life and the interconnecting digital web, the printed page is a mausoleum, but doubly here, triply even. Perhaps the only true archive or resting place of our online conversations is precisely offline — otherwise they are still live, active, full of potential to change, be rewritten, re-skinned. I toy with the idea of looking up the video links on YouTube, copying the URLs out verbatim, for veracity, to establish the mood, to listen to the same track by The Rutts. But somehow that’s not the point. Memory, clouded and somewhat made up, filled in over the gaps, feels more authentic to this story. Across the transposed Facebook group patter names are scratched out, effaced for anonymity but still recognisable, half legible, if you know what or who you’re looking for. Photographers, stylists, former colleagues from one magazine masthead to another, public house heroines and pinups. It’s a familiar world, that London of the turn of the decade. Perhaps always in negative, Baal captures the nihilistic decadence of modern urban twenty-something living. Our protagonists are neurotic, directionless within a drifting affluence, never short of a party full of people they loath who are their best friends. Alienation for the trust-fund generation at the end of history. All this… and nowhere to go, nothing to do. Baal’s unforgiving cynicism and rejection of this scene shines through. The tawdry sub-gossip milieu of rich kids idling the world from party to party to beach to island to who cares where next with the touch of overly perfumed Louis XIV court intrigues in their drama and tousling themselves up with all the braggadocio of a rap promo. This centrifugal star-lit social scene is contrasted with hints of stunning dawn views from her 15th floor flat in a Bow housing estate tower block out in deepest East London. But how much of all this is true I ask myself, is this real? I certainly remember seeing some of these posts on Baal’s Facebook, the letter that got her fired from Dazed, the ‘I fucked… and all I got was this petty vendetta’ t-shirt. Maybe one of those anonymous likes is mine. Who was Ben? Did the author make him up? If not, what would his friends or family make of who you read about here? Did she write/ make all of this up? Within a couple of quick searches Benz is revealed in the tabloid daily reports of his death. But even these always by a kind of second degree, headlines that the friend of so and so rock star kid it boy died. His death simply isn’t the story, isn’t the news, it’s his associates. Even here we miss him. I think perhaps Merced es Benz is an attempt to reclaim part of this person lost. A way of saying it did happen, that for all of everything else he was/is/was this, at least to me. The idea and love of a person is surpassed on all sides by them, until that love is all we have left. How much of this is a transcript? Untouched, unedited, unwritten? To read is to be invited in to be a witness, but of what? All the events here, everything that happens, happens elsewhere, IRL somewhere, off read, off piste, off script. Merced es Benz is an account from the aftermath of a cataclysm. It’s the act of piecing together how we got here, a looking back and re-reading of archives. It’s the act of the bereft that Baal puts us as readers into, into her shoes. It’s also the act of writing today. Through technology tracing our every move, thought, exchange, calorie burnt, website visited, link clicked, the great book of being is being written by machines in a language we can’t read. What we mean is our trace, the trail we leave behind through the systems we traverse. In this way the writer is effaced from the writing. Baal tries to take herself out of the equation, effacing herself, by instead reaching towards becoming a pure conduit to this trace of her past. It’s an act of carrying that trace forward — an act of not acting, of not writing but rather of reading — the writer in negative. In absentia. But in this way we become her — recalling and returning to the aftermath, trying to make sense of the event(s) of our lives. This non-writing — this archaeology, this digging up — this is ours, perhaps all that we have ultimately. There is a great vulnerability and honesty in Baal’s non-fiction novel. It pulls no punches, about anyone, least of all herself. If we’re sympathetic to her characters, they’re not faultless. We’re welcomed inside the expressions of their neuroses, doubts and rages to each other just as much as any love between them. And here’s the thing, thinking back I wonder if there is really love in this story, in so far as it’s a story of a failed, doomed romantic encounter. Almost as if the love each of our protagonists held for the other, living outside the book, the traces of its expression and thus their ability to communicate it to each other, couldn’t navigate these mediums between them — perhaps it’s a warning about love being innately atrophied in the age of Facefuck. You’ll only find love in the real world. Recently I’ve been seeing clips of scorpions and crabs shredding their shells recur on my social feed. There’s something strangely satisfying in watching the disconnecting, withdrawing and pulling away under the hard surface, the reveal of the soft vulnerable pink fresh skin exposed underneath and then the empty husk left behind. The hollow shape of the thing, there but without substance, without content. I think of this husk in relation to Merced es Benz. There is bravery in letting oneself be so laid bare, opening out the vulnerability and shape of oneself. An affirmation to say a kind of, I once was this. To be a writer is to share of yourself, invite others to step inside this externalised piece of you. You can only really write what you know, or write to unlearn yourself. Perhaps in reaching for an already externalised trace of herself at the intersections with another person, Baal finds something that enables an authentic intimate encounter with an other for a reader, a kind of genericity that everyone can reach towards. Ultimately, I think Baal suggests that writing today is neither simply the digital trace nor using that trace as a medium of expression, but lies beyond, within a composition or choreography that primes the possibility for encounter. And against the comforting alienation of our self-reinforcing media bubbles, her book asks how one can encounter the other, perhaps even how can one love today? Told almost entirely through social media posts and digital communications, about love and about death, Merced es Benz is an uncovering of the past and a trying to come to terms with it; it addressing the nature, and thus future, of writing itself as confronted with technology and the mediations of today; and, for the old Badiouian in me, it is about fidelity to an event, twice over, that of their love encounter, and that of his death; the one nested in the other, for only by faithfully expressing the truth of the first can one face that of the second. I guess I’m still a little bit in love with Iphigenia Baal, but not in the way I was before. Now, perhaps on her terms, in the way that she invites us readers all into a love that is forever lost, to step into these moments, and feel and watch and recall through the moments of our own lives, what it is to know, to love someone — if not the writer then perhaps her Benz.

Merced Es Benz by Iphgenia Baal is published by Book Works as part of the Semina series guest edited by Stewart Home. Order a copy here.

#bookworks #iphgenia baal #stewart home #merced es benz #real review #literature #essay

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