#i had to tell him my medical doctor and not my therapist told me that before he believed me

[byronicbrit]

be strong everyone, keep living your best you

(combination with recent national events and a coworker calling T “steroids” just makes me nervous and scared for everyone’s safety and well being)

[ts19009]

Hong's Anatomy: Part 2

Pediatrician surgeon!  Joshua x pediatric surgeon!  Female Reader 

Synopsis: Coming to Grey Sloan Memorial Hospital wasn’t on your bucket list, that’s for sure, but when you meet the head of your department, Joshua Hong, it's one of the only things that constantly brightens your day. 

Warnings: swearing, made up medical terms and procedures, i have no idea if any of this is medically accurate it’s just for story, flirting, smut (18+) (fingering, oral: f -receiving, penetrative sex, no protection, aftercare)

Words: 5.4k words

NOT EDITED, SO I MAY GO BACK AND EDIT LATER (teehee)

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You hadn’t been on a date in at least a year. What do you even wear to a non-official date with your co-worker? 

You were going to a fairly fancy restaurant, so casual was out of the question. It was down to two options. The red or black dress.

You had done your hair and makeup nicer than you normally do for work, it was fun getting dressed up like this after work. 

Just like you had planned, Jeonghan rang your doorbell right at eight. To which you opened it to see him in a dress shirt, holding a bouquet of flowers. 

“Good evening Doctor. L/N. These are for you,” he smirked, bowing and then handing the flowers to you. They were beautiful lilies with a few tulips scattered in the bouquet. 

“Come in, I just need a few more things,” you said, opening the door more for him to slip himself in. He immediately darted for the couch and layed down. 

“I had an awful shift today. Someone double booked me and I had to do back-to-back surgeries right at the end. Please tell me you had a better day.” 

“Somewhat. No double surgeries, but I did skip out on my lunch break, so I’m starving,” you said, making sure that your earrings were on correctly and grabbed your purse. “Now, I’ve waited on you long enough.” Jeonghan smiled, and got off of the couch offering his arm. 

“So tell me. Why did you ask me out?” Jeonghan asked, taking a sip of his wine. You took a minute. You didn’t want to say it was to try and “get over” his best friend, so you brought up the other truth. 

“My therapist challenged me to make one new friend by our next session next month,” you admitted. 

“You don’t have any friends here?” He questioned again.

“Well now I do. You, Joshua, Rose, Jake. You’ve all been very nice to me. I would consider you my friend.” 

“Am I just a friend?” 

The question caught you off guard, and made you choke on the wine you had just sipped. You quickly brought your napkin to your mouth to prevent spitting on him and coughed. 

“I’m sorry. I wasn’t expecting that question.” Jeonghand had a smirk on his face, but was patient while you wiped your lips. “To be honest, I didn’t think this was a date until Jake told me. He was eavesdropping on our conversation and told me to “have fun on my date”.” 

“It’s only a date if you want it to be.” He was smooth, putting the ball in your court. 

“I think calling it a date would be fun, but I’m going to be honest. I can’t promise another date,” you warned. 

“I expect nonetheless,” he chuckled, holding up his wine to cheer you with. 

“Cheers?”

“Cheers. To making new friends.” You chuckled at his statement and took a sip of wine before your food came.

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“How was the date?” Joshua asked, walking up to you at the Ped’s desk. You had just finished your rounds and was about to start prepping for your first surgery. 

“Dinner was good, thank you for asking,” you said, Joshua chuckled but nodded. “Just trying to make some friends.” 

“I’m your friend. Am I not?” 

“This is the first time you’ve called me your friend, but I guess you are now,” you said, not looking up from your tablet which caused Joshua to dramatically exhale. 

“What surgery do you have first?” He asked, trying to change the subject. 

“A poor little girl who has 3rd degree burns is looking for a skin graft. Jeonghan and I are going to try and give her a skin graft and then try to get her to generate new skin.” Joshua’s face soured at the mention of his best friend. 

“Good luck. That sounds like a rough case.” You nodded. When doing rounds you saw the poor girl who was in pain by just speaking due to the blistered and bleeding skin. 

“I asked Jeonghan to start without me. Watching her during rounds was awful. I don’t know if I could watch her when she was being put to sleep,” you scoffed. 

“Jeonghan is pretty good at cases like that. He’s good at detaching himself when he needs to,” Joshua said, ‘I gotta get going to my first surgery, but good luck with yours!” 

You nodded and waved goodbye as he hustled down the hallway. What did Joshua mean when he said Jeonghan was good at detaching himself? 

I guess you’d have to find out by being his friend. Or potentially more. 

About an hour passed when you were paged to finally head into surgery. Jeonghan had sedated the girl and had already started the skin grafting. You were kinda just there in case anything went wrong and as an extra hand. 

Plastics is way out of your knowledge. 

“How’d it go?” You asked, as Lia gowned and gloved you. 

“It was hard on her, but she fell asleep fast. Let’s just hope we only have to do this once for her sake,” Jeonghan noted. He hadn’t looked up from her face yet, but you could tell he was pretty focused, so you didn’t say anything else. 

“Okay. I’ve got the burnt and dead skin off. Let’s get that skin graft on and can you start prepping the fluid for the regen process?” Lia nodded and started getting out syringes and brushes. 

“I can help with the grafting,” you offered. 

“Sure,” Jeonghan nodded. You carefully picked up the individual strips of graft and carefully put the piece on her cheek bone. Then Jeonghan quickly took a bowl or solution and a brush and brushed over the graft to ensure it would stay and in hopes that it would spark regeneration underneath. “Perfect. Just like that, good job Doctor. L/N.” 

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“He let me do a skin graft Joshua,” you exclaimed, clearly excited. 

“That’s exciting,” he said, clearly not as excited as you, but trying to be nice about it. 

“And he said that he could already see signs that the regeneration process will go well and that she can grow her own skin!” Joshua smiled and looked up from his tablet. 

“Congratulations on the successful surgery,” he said, before moving away. 

“Wait? Did I do something wrong?” You asked. Confused where his cold attitude was coming from. 

“I lost my patient. She had a stroke and died on the table. So while I am happy that you did something new and saved YOUR patient, I’m trying not to be sad or angry that I lost mine,” he said, not briefly looking at you before looking to the ground and walking away. 

Leaving you to feel like a jerk. 

“What just happened?” Jeonghan asked, taking a seat next to you. He had seen the entire interaction take place. 

“I was just telling Joshua about the skin graft, but he was going through a hard time and had to leave,” you said, not wanting to make Joshua out to be the bad guy or share your interaction entirely. 

“Ahh I see. Joshua tends to bottle up his feelings and then they come crashing down all at once. Maybe he was upset because he hasn’t been in a while,” Jeonghan explained, leaning against the desk. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, of course,” you stuttered, “Just a little shaken up.” 

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“Doctor Y/N!” Jonah exclaimed, as you rushed into your first patient's room. “He’s seizing!” 

“Roll him on his side and push 10 milligrams of diazepam,” you ordered, as Jonah nodded and rolled the boy to his side. You quickly listened to his heart beat before moving to the side so that Jake could push the medication. A few moments later the boy stop seizing and stilled. 

“Can you book a CT scan for him Jake?” He nodded and left the room while you looked at his chart. The CT scan you had was almost three days old. A lot can change in that time. 

When the boy Michael was in the machine, Joshua popped his head into the room. 

“Ah sorry, I’ll come back later.” 

“No, we’re almost done. Just be a minute or two,” you tried to argue.

“No, I was just wanting to copy some scans to study and teach Carter,” he said, pointing to his intern. Kennedy Carter. 

“Well why don’t you both come in and try and help me find out what’s causing the boy’s seizures?” You suggested, as Josua looked to Kennedy, who was nodding. “He’s been having seizures for the past two weeks. One more and I'm scared he won't come back.”

Kennedy looked at the scans as Joshua looked at her charts. 

“Epilepsy?” Kennedy suggested, but Joshua shook his head. 

“His scans eliminate that and his charts say that he’s been in a stable environment for over a week. Did you page Doctor. Xu?” Joshua asked, as you nodded your head. 

“He suggests that we do a removal of the section that stimulates the seizures. That because he’s so young that his brain will adapt and make up for the missing section,” you say, “like a modern day lobotomy.” 

“That sounds crazy,” Kennedy chuckled. 

“It sounds like the best option, because we can’t figure out what’s causing the seizures,” you say, “we’re done now Albert. We’re going to get you back to the room.” 

Albert nodded and closed his eyes as the nurses transported him to another bed and rolled him back to his room. You only stayed a few more moments to finish some charts, but moved out of the way for Joshua and Kennedy. 

“I’m looking forward to the party Friday. Will you be there?” Joshua asked, interrupting your charting. You had gotten the invitation from Vernon, but hadn’t given it much thought, but it was Tuesday, you probably should let him know. 

“I think so, “ you muttered, “I’ll be a little late, I don’t get off till 10.” 

“I’ll save you a drink then,” Joshua grinned, as you looked up from your charting, a light blush spreading across your cheeks. You quickly glanced at Kennedy, who was smirking, but luckily, she didn’t say anything. 

 “Doctor. Xu, are you sure this is the only way we can prevent seizures?” Albert’s mother asked. Mingaho sighed, but nodded. 

“Albert’s condition is quite rare, we can’t get to the bottom of why he’s seizing so often. So we figured that stopping them all together would be better than letting them go on while we think of what’s causing them.” You nodded. 

“I agree with Doctor. Xu. The long we wait, the harder it gets on Albert. He’s lucky to remain as intact as he is,” you admit, “the sooner we act, the better.” 

Alberts mother sighs and looks to her husband. Alberts Stepfather. 

“Alright, just help our boy,” he says as you and Minghao both nod. 

“Of course,” you smiled, “we’re going to go take him up now. If you want to say a few words, now would be the time.” Albert’s mother nodded and darted into his room while her father gathered her purse and coat before going in. 

“Have you ever done this before Minghao?” You asked, watching Albert’s mother and father wrap him in a hug. Minghao looked around and grabbed your elbow before guiding you down a little further, assumingly away from the family. 

“No, but this is our only option,” he whispered, “Doctor. Jeon is the only one who has done it, but only once and he refused to do it again.” You sighed and nodded. This wasn’t going to be easy or fun. 

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Scrubbing in was always the worst part of surgeries. It took, what felt like forever. All any surgeon wanted to do was dive right in and start operating, but sanitization was just as important as anything else. 

So when you were scrubbing in for your surgery you looked up at the gallery to see Joshua and Kennedy. 

Great. Something else to think about. 

“Are you going to the party on Friday?” A voice sounded from beside you, breaking you out of your thoughts. It was Minghao.

“I am. I just told Vernon,” you answered, “what about you?” 

“Yup, I wasn’t going to at first but Joshua convinced me. Told me that there was a new type of spiked tea that he was bringing,” he chuckled. That’s right, Mingaho Xu was a yoga, meditating, tea lover when he wasn’t operating on brains. 

“Then I’ll see you at the tea kettle,” you joked as he chuckled and nodded at you before heading into the OR. 

Maybe making friends wasn’t as hard as you thought. 

Once Mingaho had opened Albert’s brain up, he took a few moments to make sure everything was in order before starting to cut a good section out of the left side of the brain. 

Your job was to make sure that the brain stayed moist so you would spray it with saline and then you would start operating after the section was gone and seal up any brain bleeds. 

You only looked up at Joshua once. He was watching you closely and smiled down at you pretty quickly. Before you could smile back the monitor started beeping rapidly. 

“Brain bleed Doctor. L/N!” Minghao said, not looking up, but pointing to the bleed. It was a medium sized bleed and located right in the center of the cut. You were quickly handed a a suction and irrigation device and started washing away the bleed. 

“Doctor L/N,” Minghao warned, you only had a few minutes before the bleeding would completely kill the brain and leave the patient brain dead. 

“Almost,” you said, very concentrated. A few seconds later the bleed stopped and the machines stopped beeping as well. “All clear Doctor. Xu.” 

Minghao nodded and resumed. After removing the remaining section of the brian Minghao let you close and then checked in on Albert’s vitals that were going steady. 

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“Albert’s out of surgery, he did really well,” you said, to Albert’s mother and stepfather. They both cried out in joy and hugged each other. 

“Can we see him?” You nodded. 

“It’ll just be a few minutes, and we need to keep him in a coma for a few days, but you can sit with him until visiting hours are over.” They nodded and smiled before sitting down and waiting for a nurse to come let them in. 

This was your last scheduled surgery, so you were now just on call. You had been up for a good six hours, with a total of maybe three hours of sleep. 

You needed a nap. 

You had found a fairly quiet on-call room close to the Ped’s unit, and close to the food court if you wanted a snack mid nap. You had only slept there once, but now seemed like a perfect time. So quickly, but quietly made your way to the food court and ordered a sandwich and iced coffee. 

Just as you got to the on-call room, you could hear someone behind the door. 

Shit, someone was in there. 

You knocked on the door, praying that the person was leaving. You could hear the ruffling behind the door before it opened a few seconds later to reveal Joshua, donning a gnarly bedhead. 

“Hey,” he yawned. 

“Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to wake you up,” you apologize as he shakes his head and raises his hands. 

“No, I was getting ready to leave,” he reassured, “were you wanting to sleep here?” You nodded and raised your lunch. 

“I like to eat here then take a power nap. It’s the only fairly quiet place on this side of the hospital.”

“Tell me about it,” he chuckled, “well it’s all yours.” You nod and step in, watching him move around and collect his coat and throw out his can. “You did amazing in your surgery by the way. I didn’t stay for the whole thing, but I watched you fix that brain bleed.” 

You smiled, “thanks. I haven’t done a lot of neuro, so I really enjoyed it.” 

“I’ll keep that in mind,” he smiled, “have a good lunch Y/N.” 

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You indeed were late to the party much later than you hoped for. You got home at ten, and didn’t get back out the door until almost eleven. Luckily, you texted Jeonghan and made sure that the party was going to last longer. It was, so when you pulled up to the party it was almost midnight. 

“Y/N!” Jeonghan exclaimed, opening his door to see you with a bottle of wine. “You made it.” 

“I’m so sorry I’m late. I didn’t get out of work until ten,” you sighed, handing him the wine. He smiled and led you to the living room where everyone was. 

“I’ll get you a glass, just wait a minute,” he smiled. You nodded and took a stand by the fire place. 

“Y/N!” Joshua said, from across the room. You smiled and waved at him as he approached you. “You look great! I don’t often see you out of scrubs.” 

“Hey, we got drinks together twice,” you joked. Joshua chuckled and raised his hands. 

“Sorry. Haven’t seen you out of scrubs in a while,” he corrected as you chuckled but rolled your eyes. 

“You look good too, and I’m sorry I haven’t asked you out after work in a while,” you started but was interrupted by Jeonghan. 

“This is really good wine!” He said, handing you a glass and taking a sip of his. “Oh, hey Shua. Did you want a glass?” 

“No no, I have a glass of whiskey somewhere here,” he answered, “I just promised Y/N that I’d save her a drink and was going to offer her one. But it looks like you beat me to it.” 

Jeonghan smirked, “not my fault you didn’t open the door.” Joshua just smiled and then sent a little glare his way. You could feel the tense atmosphere and looked between the two men glaring at each other before Chan interrupted. 

“Joshua, is this your whiskey? Can I have it?” He said lifting the glass and pointing to it. 

“No Chan..” he sighed, “I’ll be right back,” he smiled at you and sent another little glare at Jeonghan before rushing to save his drink. 

“What was that about?” You asked Jeonghan, who just shrugged. 

“Me and Shua have always gravitated toward similar people. Both friendship wise and romantically, it’s caused a few arguments in the past, but we’ve always come out okay on the other side.”

“You’re interested in me?” You exclaimed. Jeonghan chuckled and nodded his head. 

“Was that not obvious? I mean I did ask if our last date was a date. I mean I can’t speak for Shua, but I can tell he definitely doesn’t just like you as a friend.” 

Hearing the blatant confession made you blush on both cheeks and caused you to look away, not being able to look Jeonghan in the eyes. Two very attractive, hard working, kind men. Interested in you? This doesn’t sound real. 

“Sorry, I managed to get my drink back,” Joshua chuckled before playfully glaring at Chan. “What did I miss?” Jeonghan just smirked and took a sip of his wine before making his way to the patio where Seokmin and Wonwoo were. 

Joshua stayed practically glued to your side the entire night. You would wander to each of the rooms talking with almost every person, but Joshua would wander with you, fetching you new drinks, food, and contributing to conversations. The moment he went to the bathroom Mingyu chuckled. 

“He’s pretty keen on you,” he smiled. 

“So I’ve been told,” you blush, “I don’t mind.”

“I mean, he’s practically waiting on you hand and foot.” 

Right before you could say anything else, Joshua returned from the bathroom looking down at his phone. 

“I just ordered an uber, do you want to ride with me?” He asked, as you looked at the time. It was just hitting three. 

“I better, thanks,” you smiled, as Joshua looked up from his phone and smiled. Everyone was slowly starting to leave, Seungkwan, Chan, Mingyu, and Jun were the only ones left and they were all in the living room watching a rerun of a football game.  You both made your way and took a seat on the couch together before the uber pulled up. It was quite a tight fit for the both of you, your knees were touching and because of the amount of drinks you had, you started leaning your head on his shoulder. 

“Y/N, the uber’s here,” Joshua said, nudging your shoulder and helping you stand up. “Thanks for the party Jeonghan, I had fun.” 

Jeonghan smiled, and gave him a hug, before giving you a hug as well. 

“Let me know when you both get home,” he smiled. You nodded and waved to everyone while Joshua was waiting for you at the door.

“Thank you for the uber I had a good time tonight,” you blushed, at Joshua. He had insisted on walking you to the door. 

“I had fun as well. Let’s do it again sometime,” he smirked, as you playfully rolled your eyes. You were quite close, you leaning against the door and him standing almost a step away. 

He smelled like vanilla and you could hear his steady breathing. You could still feel a light buzz due to the few drinks you had, but he was getting closer. 

“Joshua,” you looked up at him to see his face awfully close to yours. 

“Tell me to stop,” he whispered, leaning in closer. 

“That’s the thing. I don’t want you to stop,” you whispered back, wrapping your arms around his neck and pressing your lips together. He reached up and cupped your cheek with his right hand. “Joshua,” you moaned as you both moved further into your home and he pressed you against the door. “What about the uber?” 

“Should I tell him to go on?” He panted, out of breath from all the kissing. You nodded and Joshua smiled, before kissing you again. “I’ll go tell him that I’ll be staying.” You nodded and watched him quickly run out to the uber. 

You smiled, and fixed your hair in the mirror before Joshua knocked on the door again. You opened it to see no uber and a handsome doctor waiting for you. You wrapped your arms around his neck again and practically pulled him inside. 

“Did. I. Tell you. How. Gorgeous. You look. Tonight?” Joshua confessed in between kisses. 

You giggled, but didn’t stop kissing him, running your fingers through his hair and pulled him towards your couch. The back of his knees hit it and he fell backwards onto it. This was it, you hadn’t slept with anyone in well over a year, let alone kissed anyone. You were extremely nervous, and Joshua could tell by the look of your face. 

“It’s okay, we can go slow if you’d like,” he smiled, pushing his hair out of his face and starting to undo the buttons on his dress shirt prompting you to start undoing your shirt as well. 

You hadn’t worn anything fancy, but luckily it was all matching. When your shirt had hit the ground Joshua was looking up at you, smirking again. You leaned down and connected your lips again sitting on his lap. Joshua’s hand went up to cup your cheek again while the other ran down your side and squeezed your hip, before dipping it into your skirt. He slipped a finger under your panites and snapped the fabric against your hip before moving lower towards your core. 

Before he could go any further, you moved to take your skirt off and throw it right by your shirt. Joshua’s shirt hadn’t been completely discarded, but simply unbuttoned, you quickly pushed it off his shoulders as he slid both his hands to his pants and also discarded them. 

You went back to kissing for a few moments before one of your bra straps started falling off your shoulders. Joshua chuckled and pushed them both off before undoing the clasp in the back and letting it fall off, leaving you almost completely bare. You shuttered as Joshua started pressing kisses down your neck. While he was kissing down your neck to your collarbones and then chest you slid your hands that were in his hair and around his neck to run up and down his chest. He wasn’t ripped to shreds, but he was definitely toned. You ran your hands across his abs before he started kissing your chest more passionately this time. You moaned and pulled his hair a little harder than before, letting Joshua laugh. 

“God, you’re so hot,” he moaned again before he started kissing farther down towards your stomach. Sooner or later he was right in between your thighs.

“Joshua,” you moaned as he kissed along your legs.

“It’s okay babe, just relax and have fun,” he smirked, sliding your panties down your legs and throwing them by the t.v. “Do you have work tomorrow?” He asked, as you shook your head no. “Good,” he said before diving in and attaching his lips to your core. His tongue went straight to licking your clint, causing you to throw your head back and arch your chest. 

Joshua continued to lick and suck at your core while one of his hands went up to massage your breast and the other to hold your hips down. 

“Stop moving so much babe,” he muttered. You whined and pushed his head down. He continued to lick and suck on your clit as you moaned more and started moving your hips into his face more, getting closer to finishing. “Stop moving!” 

“Then make me cum,” you moan, looking down at Joshua. He was smirking. 

“I’m trying, but I can’t if you keep moving,” he said using both his hands to hold you down and went right back between your thighs, this time using his nose to rub your clit while his tongue licks around your hole. “Tongue or fingers babe?” 

“God, your tongue. It was doing so well,” you sighed, taking one of his hands and pressing a kiss to his knuckles. He nodded and started licking and sucking on your clit again, this time faster making you come in a matter of minutes. Just as you finished your climax, Joshua slid two fingers into your hole and started moving as well. “What are you doing?” You cried, still sensitive and watched him slide up and kiss you. 

“You don’t have work tomorrow, we’re gonna go all night baby,” he flirted, still fingering you. 

“It’s already nearly five in the morning,” you whined as Joshua added a third finger. 

“I’ve never had morning sex before,” he grinned, “and to think, we’re not even in bed.” 

“Morning couch sex. Who woulda thought?” You joked before moaning at a particular spot that Joshua hit with his fingers. 

“I’m not opposed,” he said as you came again. This time Joshua gave you some time to breathe. “That was quite lovely,” he said, sitting up and throwing your legs over his lap. 

“Do you want to keep going?” You asked, as he started massaging your ankles. 

“Again, I’m not opposed to doing more,” he said. 

“Do you want to go to my bedroom?” You asked, as he stopped massaging your ankles and nodded. You smiled and held out your hands and stood up, he took them and you practically pulled him straight off the couch. 

“Your place is really nice for only being here for a month,” he complimented. 

“Thanks, I had to buy new furniture and decorations for a place that I really only sleep in,” you joked, “I guess I’m doing more than sleeping now.” Joshua smirked but didn’t say anything as you opened your bedroom door and flicked on the lightswitch which controlled the bedside lamp. 

Joshua held your hand and guided you to the bed and gently laid you down before laying beside you. He was still holding your hand and started playing with your fingers.

“Do you have any condoms?” He asked, you shook your head. 

“No, but I’m on birth control and I’m clean. I haven’t been with anyone in a long time,” you say as he stops playing with your fingers to look up at you. 

“I’m clean as well, but it seems like Joe already told you,” he joked, referring to your first day after work, when Joe admitted that Joshua hadn’t been on a date in the six years he had lived in Seattle. “Are you sure you don’t want a condom?” 

You nodded and wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled him on top of you. “I’m sure. I just wanna feel you.”

Joshua smiled and grabbed his cock, before lining it up with your entrance. 

“You’re so wet,” he moaned. 

“You did make me cum twice before this,” you joke. 

“Har har,” Joshua jokes back, “works out in our favor though,” he says before pushing himself into you. He didn’t push himself fast, but it was enough to catch you off guard. His one hand reached out and grabbed yours, pinning it above your head, while the other cupped your cheek more and started kissing you to swallow your moans. 

“Oh,” you moaned. 

“That it baby,” Joshua sighed into your mouth as he pressed himself all the way into you.  When he got all the way in, he stopped to let you adjust to him, he could feel you clenching around him and it drove him crazy. About 20 seconds later you finally felt good enough for him to start, so you squeezed his hand for him to start. 

Joshua smiled and started thrusting into you at a steady pace. Everytime he would slam his cock back into you it sent you seeing stars.

“Josh, it feels so good,” you moaned, arching your back, letting your chest and perked nipples brush against his. Joshua smiled and moved his other hand that was holding your leg around his waist to squeeze your nipple. You moaned again, clenching around him harder this time feeling a building pressure in your stomach. “Don’t stop.” 

“I won’t,” he moaned, pressing more kisses against your neck and face before thrusting into you a few more times and then cumming. He let out a groan, but continued to keep thrusting into you, bringing the hand that was holding your hand to rub circles on your clit until you started to feel the pressure in your stomach burst. 

You came hard. 

Joshua smiled and brushed some sweaty hair away from your face as you caught your breath and started kissing you again. You could feel the cum dripping down your thighs, you needed a break. 

“I can’t go again. I need a few minutes,” you whispered, pulling away from the kiss to try and catch your breath again. Joshua nodded and pressed one last kiss to your lips before slowly pulling out of you and reaching over to the bedside table for tissues. 

He carefully opened your legs and started cleaning you up while you took a sip of water. You winced when the cloth hit your core, but Joshua didn’t really flinch and continued to wipe around your legs. 

When Joshua was done, he got off the bed and picked you up, carrying you to the bathroom. Damn, he was good at sex and made sure to provide aftercare, you really know how to pick’em. 

After you peed Joshua carried you back to bed. You lifted the covers and slipped under as Joshua went back to the living room to get some clothes. He came back in his boxers and your underwear. 

“Can you go to my closet and get a sleep shirt? You can grab a shirt too if one looks like it fits,” you asked. Joshua nodded and walked into your closet. A few minutes later he came out in your old oversized band shirt and a new pair of panties and oversized shirt, for you. 

He handed them to you and crawled into bed next to you. 

“I can stay right?” He asked, as you nodded. 

“We’re still drunk. So yeah, you can stay,” you said, snuggling up next to him and nuzzling your face into his shoulder. You both laid there in silence for a while before Joshua looked down to see you fast asleep on his chest. 

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taglist: @asasilentreader , @myjaeyunn, @gaslysainz @itsnotjop

A/N: Omg this is my first ever smut. I looked over it a few time to make sure it all made sense and was fluid, but if there are any weird things about it lmk. Anyways! So happy and excited that they did have sex because it opens up boyfriend Joshua core and I'm excited to dive into that. Don't worry, we're still going to get some love triangle with Jeonghan, but this defiantly adds something to the mix.

Anyways! I hope you enjoyed! And feel free to talk to me in the comments <3

[veronicaphoenix]

zutto — chapter three | wc: 6.5k | series masterpost | prev. chapter

chapter summary: lia goes back to therapy. When Noah takes her back home after her session, lia's withdrawal symptoms worsen.

tags and trigger warnings: best friends to lovers, angst, conflicted feelings, wet dreams that turn into nightmares, lia goes back to therapy, mentions of couples therapy, mentions of medication and use of it, descriptions of both physical and psychological withdrawal symptoms, heated argument between lia and noah, passionate kiss under the rain.

author's note: this is a hard one that might feel uncomfortable to some, so read with caution. It's rewarding at the end, though 💕

general trigger warnings: This work addresses and depicts issues related to addiction, abuse, & violence, contains explicit sexual content, and explores themes of childhood trauma. Reader discretion is advised. +18

“Would you consider my suggestion? It would be very helpful if Noah could join our sessions.”

Lia nodded, still scratching her fingers. She’d been locked in her therapist office for the last hour, and she felt exhausted. With the woman’s unexpected suggestion, her nerves shot up, adding to her distress.

The idea of Noah dealing with her therapist didn’t seem very appealing. He had his own and Lia didn’t want to drag him into this. But again, he was already shit deep into her problems, wasn’t he? 

So, she didn’t lie when she told Dr. Reynolds that she would consider it.

Outside, Noah’s car was parked right at the door, and he waited inside.  

It was the first time since returning to L.A. that they’d been apart for longer than an hour. Matt had picked them up from Lia’s apartment, spending about two minutes hugging her tightly after seeing her. Lia didn’t cry, and although she looked happy to be in Matt’s arms, she assured him she was on the mend and wouldn’t put them through something like this ever again.        After dropping her at the therapist’s office, Noah got out of the car and walked her to the door, squeezing her hand and promising he’d be there to pick her up in an hour. Just as the door of the building opened, Noah called Lia’s name. When she turned back to him one last time, he pulled her into a tight hug and kissed her hair. That was the boost Lia needed to face the next sixty minutes. 

As soon as Noah was alone with Matt in the car, the questions began to pour out. 

“How is she doing? And I mean, for real.”

“What have the doctors said?”

“Is she still taking meds? When can she quit? Why isn’t it that easy?”

“And what about you? How are you coping?”

“Have you talked to her? Have you guys talked about you and… her? About…?”

Noah stopped him there, his face a mixture of fatigue and frustration. 

“I’m dealing with this just like Lia is,” he admitted, his voice strained. He was conflicted, torn between telling her he couldn’t live without her touch, that he needed her in ways he had never thought possible, and keeping quiet and giving her the space she needed. 

Noah looked out of the window; his eyes distant. He was still having nightmares. In fact, it felt they were just getting started. He was worried sick that they would follow him for days, weeks. Months, even. 

Last night, he had dreamt that Lia was straddling him, that his hands were tangled in her hair, pulling her down to him. His grip intensified, perhaps to the point of hurting her, but Lia didn’t complain. Her moans told exactly the opposite. Noah continued devouring her mouth, her lips perfect against his, her tongue slippery against his own. He swallowed her little sounds, hardening against her. When he pressed her down onto his erection, his left hand gripped her waist, marking her. Abruptly, Lia moved away, startled, fear in her eyes. Standing, she lifted the hem of her t-shirt to reveal the marks his fingers had left. With a broken voice, eyes teary, she said, “Noah, you hurt me.” 

Noah woke up in panic, accidentally waking Lia, who was sleeping beside him. She immediately turned on the light, threw the covers away, and reached for him. Her hand softly landed on his arm to steady him, her voice calling out his name gently. He didn’t relax until her hands cupped his face. When his eyes, filled with terror, met hers, he began to ground himself in her presence. He had never been held so tenderly. Only Lia had ever been so caring with him, so sweet and soft.

“Noah, it’s okay.” Her voice was hushed, delicate; her heart broke a little more at the sight of him suffering from nightmares. “I’m here. I’m okay. We’re okay.”  

His breathing slowed. He closed his eyes, tilting his head a little to feel the warmth emanating from her right hand. Needing her, he grabbed her wrist gently and pulled her closer until he was kissing the skin where her veins pulsed. Her fingers caressed his cheek. 

“It’s okay,” she whispered again. 

If she said that, while they were in bed together, in the middle of the night, her hands on him, he would believe her. 

He would have kissed her and laid her back on the bed, this time closing the gap between their bodies, not letting her stray a single inch away. He was tired of pretending this was like any other time, when they were just best friends sharing a bed. But he was scared. What if he really hurt her?

“Noah?” She noticed him straying away, his mind wandering far again. She needed to bring him back. “We’re in my apartment. We were sleeping. We’re in my bed. It’s ok. We’re all right.” 

“Are we?” He couldn’t help and ask.

At the sight of the furrow between his brows, Lia reached her other hand and moved some hair away from his face. 

“We will be,” she replied without hesitation. She wasn’t sure, truth be told, but she trusted that they were on the path to mending, both of them, and being there with him in the middle of the night, sharing a bed, sharing covers and warmth, was a sign of that. “Will you—? Will you let me hold you?”

Was he worthy of the sweetness she looked at him with when she asked that question? Maybe. He knew he was good for her. He’d always been. But he was still not entirely convinced he was exactly what she needed.  

For now, he would let her hold him until all his doubts faded away. 

He fell back asleep with Lia spooning him, her petite frame pressing against his wide back, her breathing caressing the skin at the back of his neck. 

Matt took Noah to his house so that he could pick up his car and some clothes. Jolly and Jesse were home, taking the time to catch up on missed hours of sleep. Noah didn’t want to stay long. He updated them on Lia’s condition, drawing a line whenever the boys tried to get too sweet with him. It felt weird to have Jesse wrapped around him, so when he hugged Noah, Noah simply patted him on the back, thanked him for his concern, and assured him that Lia would drop by soon.

After a cup of coffee and a trivial talk with the boys, Matt inquired about the upcoming tour in Japan. Noah didn’t blame him for his insistence. Organizing a tour overseas had required a big budget and a lot of time, so it was natural for everyone to be concerned. 

“I don’t know,” Noah replied sternly when Matt asked if they would have to cancel the trip. “I can’t think about that yet. I just need her to get through today’s therapy session.”

Matt nodded as if he understood, but in truth, he was getting restless. If the tour had to be canceled, they needed to start making changes and rescheduling flights and hotel bookings before it was too late.  

“Have you talked to her about it?”

Noah lifted his head and shot Matt an almost angry look. “No, I haven’t” he replied sharply. “But I know what she’ll say. She won’t let us cancel the tour, and I’m not ready to have that argument with her. So please, just— Just don’t ask me about Japan for at least a couple of weeks. I know what we have to prepare, but I can’t focus on that right now.” 

“Okay. Sure. We still have time,” Matt said, trying to sound reassuring, “and Lia’s well-being is the main concern now.” 

“She’ll get through this,” Jolly added, a hint of pride in his voice despite his stern expression, still pained by recent events. 

“I’m not giving her any other choice,” Noah concluded. He finished his coffee. 

Fifteen minutes later, he was seated in his car, watching Lia fasten her seatbelt beside him. She hadn’t looked at him when she got in, and the distress on her face was evident. 

“How did it go?” Noah asked, starting the car.  

Lia sighed deeply, letting her head fall back to the headrest for a moment. At her reaction, Noah tried to smile to lift her spirits. “Not so good?”

“No, it was okay,” she admitted, still hesitating to look at him. “She wants to meet you,” she said finally. Her brown eyes met his and Noah’s smile faltered. She didn’t look thrilled about it. “I mean, she wants you to have a session with her, thirty minutes or so, and then she wants us to have a couple of sessions together as…” She struggled to say the words, the feeling evident in the way she drifted her gaze to some focal point on the road ahead. “You know,” she tried, a sigh following her words, her cheeks flushing, “couples therapy.” 

When she uttered those words, Noah noticed her shoulders slumping, as if she had just released a weight she’d been carrying on her shoulders. 

“Only if you want, of course,” she hurried to add. 

“I’d love to.”

Lia’s head turned abruptly towards him, her expression one of surprise. “You would?” 

“Of course,” he affirmed. His own previous therapy sessions had probably been far different from Lia’s, but he was aware it would require patience and courage to do this with her. He was willing to do anything, though. For her, he would. “If it means this will helps us get better and strengthen our bond, I’m up for anything.” The sincerity in his words warmed her. She felt exhausted and sleepy, slightly upset about the things she’d had to recall and mention during her session. She had been scared about asking Noah if he would like to attend sessions with her, as a couple. But now that he seemed so willing, so predisposed, her heart fluttered in her chest. 

“Thank you”, she whispered. “It means a lot.”

Noah took her hand and pressed a kiss to the back of it. “So, one thing’s sorted. Now onto the next. Where would you like to go for lunch today?”

She wasn’t keen on going out, nor did she feel like cooking or letting Noah handle everything, so she let him drive them to the outskirts of the city. They found a cozy restaurant where they could enjoy a healthy meal outside. It reminded her of the times when Noah used to pick her up from school at sixteen. He already had his driver’s license and would collect her every Friday to go somewhere to eat. Back then, he didn’t have his own car, so he borrowed Mike’s, which always smelled weird. Noah would tease her, saying Mike had sex with girls in the backseat, which made her clutch her backpack tightly, worried the stench might cling to her bag.

Sitting at a table outside by the road, Lia tied her hair into a bun while Noah quickly checked his phone before starting to eat. Lia didn’t have much of an appetite, but she made an effort, even reaching for the slices of beetroot in Noah’s salad. Her action earned an offended, playful look from him that managed to coax an honest smile from her. However, after the fourth or fifth bite, her stomach started acting funny. As she tried to understand why, she also noticed it was getting harder to stay present in the moment, her mind wandering away from where it should be. Suddenly, she couldn’t focus on the food. Staring at it for a long minute, she started feeling nauseous and hot. There was a gentle breeze outside, a sign that it was going to rain, but she felt her body’s temperature increasing, her face flushing, which only added to her overall discomfort.

Noah didn’t push her to eat when she told him she her stomach felt weird. Once she confirmed she couldn’t eat anymore, Noah asked for the remainder of her food to be packed away, and they took it home.  As she stood up, she felt a wave of nausea rise. Her legs felt unsteady for a couple of seconds, so she clutched Noah’s arm for support.

Her queasiness only increased by the time they made it back to her apartment. When they door closed behind them, Lia’s head was throbbing with a pounding headache, making it almost unbearable to stand the light coming in from the balcony doors and the windows. 

“I’m fine,” she told Noah as his worried expression deepened. “I’m just having a horrible headache. It started right after I left from therapy. It’s… really bad now.”  

She made her way to the sofa, taking off her jacket, feeling fatigue take over her. She ran the back of her hand across her forehead and noticed sweat beads covering it. She sighed; her vision was getting blurry. She couldn’t focus her eyes—or mind— on anything. 

She didn’t notice Noah’s footsteps and was unaware he had retrieved a cloth from the kitchen and dampened it. He knelt in front of her and placed it on her forehead. Lia shivered, her body temperature fluctuating wildly between hot and cold. 

“We should check if you have a fever.”

“I’ll be fine,” she insisted, suddenly feeling overwhelmed by his attention and his closeness. “Thank you. I’ll go get changed.” She stood up and moved past him.

“Why don’t you take a shower?” He suggested. “It might help.”

Truthfully, she felt too tired to shower. She wanted to lie down anywhere and sleep, conveniently in an open space, but she feared sleep wouldn’t come easily with the headache and nausea.

Telling Noah she would go to her room to change into something comfortable, he let her go, rising from his crouching position and watching her disappear down the hallway. 

It made him feel slightly frustrated, not being able to do anything more to help. 

With a heavy sigh, Noah tried to smooth out the lines on his forehead, his frustration growing palpable.  

He took off his jacket, dropping it onto the sofa, and grabbed his duffel bag to also change into comfier clothes: shorts and a hoodie. Returning from the bathroom to the living room, he waited for Lia, lounging on the sofa with his MacBook open. There were no plans for the rest of the day. Lia needed slow and he would give her slow. If she wanted to spend hours binge-watching a TV show or baking, he was ready to do so with her. But despite what he’d told Matt earlier, Noah couldn’t resist the urge to check his emails. 

Unbeknownst to him, a storm was brewing in Lia’s room; inside of her. 

Oblivious to her escalating affliction, Noah hunched over the screen, typing a reply to an email. Meanwhile, Lia paced inside her room, feeling the walls closing in as withdrawal symptoms tightened their grip. She knew what it was, but couldn’t stop it, which only fueled her panic. Her thoughts scattered like leaves in the wind. Unable to focus, she started to rifle through drawers, tossing clothes aside in a frantic search for something to calm her nerves, her pain. Though Noah kept the bottle of prescribed pills from the hospital, she needed something stronger. The current medication clearly wasn’t enough if she felt this restless, desperate, weak, and anxious.    

There had to be something, somewhere. A forgotten blister hidden under her clothes or at the back of her drawers.  

With no luck, she left her room and entered the small space she liked to call her studio: a cozy corner furnished with a proper desk, a bookshelf, a guitar that Noah and the boys gifted her one Christmas and that she never played, and walls adorned with her paintings, framed dried flowers, and artworks by other artists.

In a frenzy, she bent down, opening one drawer after another, sweat layering her skin. Dizziness added to her throbbing headache threatened to incapacitate her, but she was determined to find one fucking pill because she needed it. Fuck the doctors. Fuck the therapist. She needed a single damn pill to calm her nerves, quiet the voices, and ease the pain coursing through every inch of her body and soul.  

Closing a drawer with a loud noise and muttering curses, she moved to the next one, finding only used notebooks and scattered pens and crayons.  

From the living room, Noah raised his head. 

“Lia?” He called out, his concern mounting. “What’s going on?”

There was no response. Noah set his MacBook aside and strode towards the studio room. He found Lia crouched on the floor, barefoot, still in her clothes, her bun a tangled mess. Her movements were frantic, hands shaking as she ransacked her space.

“Lia, what are you doing?” he asked softly.

He knew. 

Lia avoided his gaze as she stood up, swaying, things moving around her. Ignoring Noah’s extended arm, she moved urgently towards the living room, her eyes wild.

He trailed behind her, his own heart racing at the sight of Lia in that distressed state. He felt a deep sense of fear, a fear not too unfamiliar. 

“Lia—”

“What?” She snapped, but her attention was elsewhere. She opened every cupboard and drawer in the kitchen, then moved on to the furniture in the living room when she couldn’t find any blister pack or scattered pill. 

Noah stood in the midst of her chaos, watching her with growing panic coursing through his veins. He tried to approach her, reaching out to grab her arm and stop her, to make her focus on him, but she shook him off.

“I need a pill. Just one. And I’ll be fine.” 

Noah couldn’t discern if she was talking to him or to herself. She’d already taken her allotted dose for the day; taking more was out of the question. The doctor had warned them about this, explained that withdrawal symptoms would eventually come, varying in severity, and offered advice and coping strategies. 

But facing it now, Noah felt utterly powerless. Lia wore an expression he didn’t recognize—a dangerous determination that had nothing to do with the resilient woman she was. This wasn’t her. It was the distorted craving of her addicted system demanding what wasn’t necessary.  

“Lia, remember what the doctor said,” he began, knowing his words would likely fall on deaf ears. “If you exceed your dose, if you just have one more…”

“Who cares? Just—Fuck. There has to be a blister pack somewhere,” she muttered, moving away from him and checking behind sofa cushions. 

She was losing it. 

“I need to find one. Just one. I need to fucking have it. I can’t deal with this.” Her voice was tinged with desperation, rising. Moments later, seeming defeated, she collapsed onto the sofa, bending forward, her hands clutching her head as if she could physically squeeze the pain away, a vein throbbing on her neck. “Where the fuck are they?!” 

“Not here,” Noah said firmly, not taking his preoccupied gaze from her. “You’re allowed one pill a day. You had it. You have to go through tonight without it, and you will. I know you can do it—”

“For fuck’s sake,” she busted, looking up at him, her eyes red and watery, “cut the bullshit, Noah.” She stood abruptly. “I can’t. I can’t! Can’t you see me?!” she gestured towards herself, frantic. Her face was covered in tears, her cheeks reddened, her chest rising heavily due to her disturbed breathing.

Noah’s heart cracked a little bit more. He swallowed hard. He could see her, yes, but he wished he couldn’t. 

“Where’s your bag?” She demanded, her lips pursed, her nostrils flaring. She was barely blinking. She was shaking.

“You don’t need my bag.”

“I do need it because you’re keeping the bottle I was given at the pharmacy!”

“I’m keeping the bottle for this very reason.”

“Noah,” she took a deep breath, attempting to calm herself. The rational part of her that hadn’t yet been swallowed by desperation reminded her of Noah’s care and determination. The man in front of her would do anything to keep her from harm’s way. However, the darker part of her urged her to convince him, to play nice to get him to cave in, to give her what she wanted.  “Please, just one. I beg you. Give it to me. Just today. I promise it won’t be like this tomorrow.”

A nightmare was unfolding right before Noah’s eyes. No, it wasn’t a nightmare; it was a memory: He was fourteen years old. His mother was at his grandparents’ house, desperate and erratic, asking for money to feed her addiction. That had been the first and only time Lia had meet Noah’s mother. Neither of them; not him, not her, nor his grandparents, could have imagined that years later, Noah would be reliving a similar scene, the fear even more intense this time. 

No matter how much this hurt him, he wouldn’t let Lia become like his mother. 

When Lia attempted to move past him towards the room where Noah kept his bag, he blocked her way. Lia looked up at him with wide eyes, as if unable to believe he was denying her something so vital, denying this to her. 

“You don’t need it,” he said.

“But I do, to calm myself, to make everything go away,” she pleaded with a sweet broken voice. “I need it, Noah, please.”

“No. You heard the doctor. You agreed on committing to this. You wanted to get better, remember?” 

“Yes, but you don’t know how it feels—how I’m feeling. Noah, please, I—.”

“No. That’s the end of it, Lia.”

It took a moment for her expression to shift again, her frustration boiling over, evident on her face, in her beautiful, big brown eyes. She tried to maneuver around Noah again, her eyes blazing, but he stood his ground, for hersake. 

“Let me through.”

“No. Sit down. We’ll talk.”

“I don’t want to fucking sit down,” her voice had grown rougher. Where was his sweet Lia? “Move or I’ll move you.”

In another circumstance, Noah might have snorted, raised an eyebrow, or chuckled. But that day, he didn’t flinch.

“Try,” he simply said. 

And try she did. 

Noah maintained his position, blocking her path. She wrestled with him briefly, shouting, until she stumbled back, tripping over her own feet and knocking over a small ceramic figurine on a low shelf next to the TV, which shattered into pieces on the floor. The sound startled Lia, and the fear in her own eyes transferred to Noah. She was hypersensitive, a sign of an impending emotional tsunami that threatened to engulf them both. 

For a moment, Lia stood motionless, staring at the broken figurine as if it had sparked something new inside her. Then, in a sudden shift, she turned back to Noah, her eyes wide open, an ocean of emotion swirling within them. Her anger quickly dissolved into more tears, bigger ones this time. Her desperation remained present; it impregnated the walls of her own home, seeped into Noah’s very soul and heart. 

Then, she shouted at him. 

“Why are you doing this?!” 

She had never raised her voice at him like that before. 

“I’m trying to help you,” he replied, his voice strained with effort as he kept it low. Outside, rain began to pour, as if the universe were mirroring the turmoil inside of the apartment, the chaos in their hearts. 

“You’re not helping me! You’re making it worse!” Lia knew the weight of her words even as she spoke them, but she couldn’t stop herself. She felt lost, as if drowning, unable to reach the surface. Noah’s steady gaze bore down on her, his presence looming large, making her feel small and trapped. Yet, a voice inside her, a remnant of a younger self, insisted that Noah was her anchor, that everything he did was for her sake, for her well-being. This only added to her frustration. 

Why did it have to be this way?

Her tears fell freely, splashing onto the floor. Noah’s heart ached and ached.  

“If you didn’t love me, you wouldn’t care about this and would let me have a fucking pill!” she yelled, tears cascading down her face, her sobs intensifying. She looked utterly miserable, on the brink of collapsing under the weight of everything. 

Noah’s jaw clenched, pain and determination flickering in his eyes. “Exactly. It’s because of what I feel for you that I’m not letting you give up,” he shouted back, stepping closer.

“You can’t save me, Noah. Just—. Stop playing hero. Give me a pill and let me get this over with,” she extended her trembling hand toward him. He moved closer. She moved back. Irony hung heavy in the air. 

Her bare feet were dangerously close to the shattered pieces of the figurine. Noah swiftly grabbed her wrist to prevent her from stepping on them, but it only fueled her anger. She wrenched herself free, determined to continue her search, with or without Noah’s help. 

“Lia, for God’s sake!” Noah voice rose as he made attempt to grab her again. “Will you stop? Look at your feet!”

But she paid him no heed, only shouted back at him to leave her alone as her bare feet navigated through the broken pieces, her focus solely on finding the pills. 

Noah’s frustration reached its peak. He shouted her name, trying to break through her hysteria.

Outside, the rain intensified, as if prompted by their shouting, a torrential downpour that matched the intensity contained in the apartment. Noah knew he had to do something. He strode over to Lia, who was too consumed by her hopeless idea of finding a fucking pill to notice him approaching. In one swift motion, he lifted her, wrapping his arms around her as she struggled against his hold, her back against his chest. Lia’s heart pounded wildly as his embrace caged her in, her protests falling on deaf ears as she kicked and hit him, demanding to be released. 

“What are you doing?! Noah—”

“I’m done with this.”

“Noah, put me down! Put me down, I said!”

Noah held her tighter, his own emotions bubbling over. He pushed open the balcony door, stepping outside with Lia still fighting in his arms. The rain immediately drenched them both, the cold water shocking Lia into stillness.

“Let me go!”

“No!” He shouted at her, the water dripping from his face, drenching his clothes. “You want to scream? Scream now!” Noah said roughly, the rain pouring down, washing over them.

He put Lia on the ground, freeing her only for a moment to force her to turn around and face him. Then, he caged her again against him, forcing her to lift her head to look at him, to see what she did to him, to acknowledge his pain and desperation in the darkness that was starting to shroud the city. 

Lia fought against him, but when she realized it was futile, that she could do nothing against Noah’s strong hold, her sobs mixed with the sound of the rain, her resistance gradually weakening. He kept on holding her close, his voice trembling with emotion as the rain flowed, soaking them both in its chill embrace.  

“I hate seeing you like this, Lia. But I can’t let you do this to yourself. I won’t,” Noah said. His voice dropped, but the pain persisted.

Lia, drenched and pathetic, looked up at him. Her eyes were filled with despair, pushing Noah to his own edge. He tightened his hold on her, their faces inches apart. The eye contact intensified as their heartbeats tried to subside, to sync, struggling to find a rhythm amidst the chaos. 

Just when he thought he had heard everything, her next question caught him off guard. Her voice was weak, sad. So sad. Even the rain could feel it. 

“Why did you fall in love with me?”

Her anger was gone, but now there seemed to be a void that Noah longed to fill. He didn’t want her feeling like this, feeling like she wasn’t worthy.  

No matter how many mistakes she’d committed, how much wrong she’d done; she was worthy. Worthy of entire universes and galaxies.

He couldn’t answer in that moment, though a thousand reasons flooded his mind. 

“Your life would be much easier without me,” she continued, her voice a fragile whisper barely audible over the rain. 

Agony etched Noah’s features as he fought to maintain his composure.  

“Lia… Shut up, please,” he pleaded, exhausted. “Just shut up.”

“Why?” she persisted, her body caged in Noah’s arms, her chest pressed against his. Tears mingling with raindrops streaming down her face. Despite her misery, she looked breathtakingly beautiful to Noah. Her long hair flowed loosely, sticking to her chest and back, framing her face. Her eyelashes held droplets, her lips red and moist, her cheeks flushed. “I’m not worthy of you.” 

No, he wouldn’t have that. 

“I’ll never be worthy of you.”

“Lia, stop.”

“I don’t deserve you.”

She let her head fall on Noah’s chest, weeping like a child, her arms limps at her side, her knees barely supporting her.  

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry for everything. I shouldn’t be here. You shouldn’t have to deal with this. I should have let them take me and keep me away for as long as necessary.”

“No. You’re right where you’re supposed to be, and so am I—” His words came out through clenched teeth, desperate to make her understand, to dispel those thoughts from her mind. 

“There’s so much good for you out there, away from me.”

A vein throbbed in Noah’s neck, her words like knives piercing his heart.  

“I can’t keep hearing you say these things. Everything you’re saying is wrong. You’re wrong, Lia.”

“I’m not! Why do you keep trying to see the good in me? What good is it doing to you?”

If he had to show her the good in her, the beauty and all her magic, her light, he would. But now, he needed her silence. 

“For God’s sake, Lia.”

“I’ve been nothing but a thorn in your side for the last two years. Don’t you even try to say otherw—”

“Lia, I said stop.”

“Why? I’m just telling the truth. Someone has to because you keep glossing over every one of my mistakes. All because you love me!”

Exactly.

He loved her. More than life itself.  

“Lia,” his voice was a warning. “If you don’t stop, I’m going to shut you up.” 

“You can’t. I’m stating the facts that you won’t—”

“I can,” he cut her off. With resolve hardening his features, he said, “I’m going to kiss you.”

She froze, her eyes widening, a crease forming between her brows. Her lips parted slightly, raindrops causing her to blink as they trailed down her face. 

Noah thought that, with all her sorrow and misery, she looked like a nymph, a goddess.  

“Noah,” her voice softened, as if the threat of being kissed stirred something within her. She tried to read his intent in the depths of his warm October eyes. “What if… What if you’re just infatuated with me?”

It was the voice of doubt speaking out, the same one that kept telling her a pill was the solution to all her problems. Deep down, Lia knew Noah wasn’t infatuated with her. He had seen the best and the worst in her. He was dealing with her worst, and yet, here he was, dying to kiss her, to ease her pain. 

“You’re crazy if you think that,” he retorted. Then, after a pause, “And I’m crazy in love with you. I’m going to kiss you now. If you don’t want me to, say it,” he demanded, his voice a blend of softness and intensity. “Right now.” 

Lia’s breath hitched, her words stumbling. But she didn’t refuse him. Noah’s heart raced, overwhelming need to connect with her, driving him forward. With one hand cradling her jaw, the other arm securely holding her close, he lowered his lips to hers. 

“Tell me you don’t want this,” he urged, his breath caressing her face. 

“I—”

“Say it, Lia. No hesitating.”

One intake of breath.  

“Kiss me,” she pleaded, giving in, surrendering. 

His mouth descended on her.

One moment she was hopeless. The next one, she was fighting against Noah’s hold, desperate to free her arms and tangle her fingers in the wet, silky strands of his hair. The kiss stole her breath away from the very start. Noah’s grip tightened as her hands finally found their way around his neck, her body arching towards him, rising onto her tiptoes. She let Noah devour her. 

Despite the cold and the chill of the raindrops on their bodies, Noah’s mouth was warm and inviting as it claimed Lia’s lips. The kiss was fierce and passionate, a tumultuous blend of anger, desperation, and love. Their lips collided repeatedly, caressing, their saliva mingling with the sweet rainwater. 

Under his touch and hold, Lia softened, the storm inside her beginning to calm, all need for a substance that would surely damage her slowly dissipating. All of it was replaced by Noah’s intoxicating kiss. His hunger was evident in the way he kissed her, held her face, and pressed her closer, as if he had been starved for days. Lia clung to him, inadvertently pulling at his hair, eliciting a growl from him that sent a shiver down her spine. He nibbled at her lower lip, igniting a fire within her. 

Their mingling breaths created a rhythm, a dance of longing and need. Lia’s hands explored Noah’s back, tracing the contours of his muscles as they tensed and relaxed under her touch. Each moment forged a connection that surpassed mere physical desire, a connection that had always existed between them. The world around them blurred into obscurity; nothing else mattered but the intensity of their moment.

And as Lia gave in to her desires, to her need of him, to this consuming passion, she felt a pang of fear.

It clawed at her, a dark whisper at the back of her mind. What if this wasn’t real? What if it was all just a fleeting escape from her troubles? The intensity of their connection scared her, the depth of her emotions for Noah something she hadn’t fully understood until now, as his for her. What if he didn’t really feel all these things? What if he was confused? What if this love was mistaken by his role as her protector since childhood?  

She wanted to lose herself in him, but the remnants of doubt lingered, casting a shadow over her euphoria.

She took a moment to breath, her eyes closed, her hands releasing Noah’s hair but remaining at his neck, Noah’s lips lingering on hers, caressing her mouth. 

“What if you regret this?” she whispered. He almost didn’t hear her, but when her words did register, he didn’t react. Instead, he moved the arm around her waist to cup her face in both hands. With a slight shake of his head, his lips brushed against hers as he said softly, “Shut up, Lia. Stop talking nonsense and let me keep kissing you.” 

After a brief kiss, with her upper lip captured between Noah’s, he sensed her hesitation. 

Noah paused, his breath warm against her lips. His eyes, dark and intense, searched hers for any sign of regret. The vulnerability in his gaze mirrored her own, a silent plea for trust and acceptance. Each beat of his racing heart emphasized how much he needed her; how afraid he was of losing this fragile connection.  

“Unless you want to stop.” 

She didn’t answer.  

“Do you want to stop?” he insisted, his fear evident.  

“No,” she said, her eyes full of newfound determination, of love and lust, and Noah felt a rush of warmth, like honey spreading through him, “I don’t want to stop.”

Her affirmation washed over him, soothing the anxiety that had gripped his heart. He could see the sincerity in her eyes, the unspoken promise that she was his as much as he was hers. As he kissed her again, the world could wait. For now, nothing mattered but the two of them, entangled in each other’s arms.

Gradually, their surroundings came back into focus—the chill of the evening air, the distant sounds of traffic and rustling leaves reminding them of the outside world. It was a gentle reminder that life continued around them, indifferent to their shared moment of passionate chaos.  

Reluctantly, Noah rested his forehead against hers with a sigh, immediately missing the taste of her. 

Lia opened her eyes, realizing her panic had subsided. She shivered. 

“We should go inside,” he suggested, “before we catch a cold.” 

“You brought us out here,” she pointed out. There was a hint of teasing in her tone.

Noah’s heart threatened to burst. “Yeah, because it was getting suffocating inside. But I don’t intend for either of us to catch a cold.”

Grabbing her hand, he led them inside, touching his hair as droplets fell onto the floor.

“Shit,” he muttered, freeing her, and noticing the puddles him and Lia created as they moved into the apartment. Lia swallowed, looking around, suddenly feeling lost without Noah’s touch, without his arms around her, with the broken pieces of the figurine on the floor staring back at her. 

Slowly, the realization of everything she had done and said to him in the last fifteen minutes threatened to overwhelm her again. But Noah wouldn’t let that happen. 

“Go shower,” he insisted, “I’ll wait until you’re done and mop the floor in the meantime.”

She hesitated, searching his eyes like a lost puppy. When he didn’t immediately notice, she nodded and started walking to her bedroom. 

Two seconds later, his hand grasped hers, halting her movements and claiming her attention back to him.  

“Lia,” he said. His rain-soaked face was mesmerizing as his eyes gazed at her with utter adoration. “I told you; you could get through this. You’re stronger than you think.”

She shook her head. “I’m strong because of you.” 

“You’re wrong.”

Tilting her head, she sent a heartwarming smile his way. 

“Are you going to kiss me again, then?” 

He let out a soft chuckle.  

“Every time you’re wrong,” he replied.  

“And when I’m right?” 

“Same.”

“And when I’m better?”

“More.”

They stood there, exchanging satisfied smiles, feeling as though the rain had worked some kind of magic. In truth, it had just been their kiss, that press of lips they’d been both longing for, a kiss that grounded Lia and brought her back to the person she was and to where she belonged.

“Go,” he urged tenderly, letting go of her hand, “we’ll talk after.” 

As he watched his girl disappear into the hallway, giving him one last sweetened smile that said, ‘thank you for healing me’, Noah blinked, feeling a relief and ecstasy he hadn’t experienced in over a year.

— prev. chapter | chapter four 🌶️

[nebulablakemurphy]

Moves & Countermoves (Part 19)

Summary: No one ever wins the games, even fourteen years later, Y/N is still playing. Trigger warning: discussions of trauma surrounding ‘desirable’ victors.

Prologue | 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15 | 16 | 17 | 18

“Tell me about the stairs,” Dr. Aurelius says.

Y/N stares at him blankly, the stairs.

He waits a moment, tapping his pen to paper. “At the request of your husband, you will be issued a nightlock pill, to use in the event that you are captured.”

Y/N nods. One of the stipulations to Haymitch agreeing to her deployment, on this mission to rescue Peeta.

‘Show me you can reach it with your mouth.’ He tested the accessibility of her suit’s pill pocket, rigorously. ‘Show me you can still reach it with your hands behind your back.’

It isn’t something he wants her to use, but knowing that whatever Snow has planned for her would make Peeta’s captivity look like child’s play…

“By President Coin’s orders, I cannot release this… medication unless you are of sound mind.”

“You have reason to believe I’m not?” Y/N asks.

“One of your former guards told me you asked if anyone had ever jumped from the elevator.” Aurelius purses his lips.

“It was one time!” Y/N waves a hand, “and it was a joke.”

“You have a dark sense of humor.”

“You would too.”

The therapist affords her a soft smile, “you may be right. Even still, you are my patient. I need to act in your best interest. So please, tell me what happened on the stairs.”

Y/N takes a deep breath, “it’s kind of a blur. Everyone was pushing, yelling, especially after the upper levels were damaged and the rain started coming down.”

“How did you feel?”

“I felt…worried, I guess.”

“In what way?”

“About Haymitch, Madge and the kids. Worried about what was happening to Peeta. Worried about getting Katniss into the bunker.”

He jots this down.

“That was a normal response.” Y/N snaps.

“Very much so,” the doctor agrees, “not every note I make is a bad one.”

Y/N crosses her arms.

“Did you worry for yourself? Your own safety?”

You’re supposed to say yes.

“There is no right answer, Y/N.”

“There’s an answer that gets me to Peeta and one that doesn’t.”

“True,” he shrugs, “but I trust you not to lie.”

“You shouldn’t.” Y/N narrows her eyes. “I’m a good liar, I’ve been doing it since I was fifteen.”

“How do you feel about death? Is it something you long for, or run from?”

“If I die, my kids lose their mother, my husband loses his wife, my sister loses her sister. The list goes on. So it really doesn’t matter how I feel about death. All I know is that I cannot die.”

“Yet you think you could bite down on this pill?” He presents the dark purple capsule.

“As a last resort. If I have fought tooth and nail and I know, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that I can’t get free? I could.” Y/N decides.

Dr. Aurelius nods, holding the nightlock out to her. “Best of luck.”

————————————————————————

Haymitch curses Katniss’ name, as he shuffles through the crawl space she’s gone to hide in, after refusing to make the propo saying thirteen survived Snow’s attack.

Have kids, they said. It will be fun, they said.

Though none of his biological children have forced him to squeeze in such a tight space, parenthood is not for the faint of heart.

He plops down beside her with a sigh, “so this is the end, huh? I guess we’re just gonna hide down here forever.”

“I can’t be the mockingjay,” Katniss chokes out.

“Not the mockingjay,” Haymitch tosses a bit of hair away from her face, “just Katniss.”

She blinks at him, warily.

“Look, I know I’m not good at this pep talk stuff. That’s Y/N’s department.”

“She doesn’t want to see me,” Katniss understands.

“She spent the morning getting cleared by her shrink.”

“Cleared for what?”

“They’re going to rescue Peeta.” Haymitch tells her.

“What?”

“The dam went down in district five, took out most of the power to the Capitol. Knocked out their signal defense, Beetee’s inside their system, reeking all kinds of havoc. The window is open to us, for how much longer? I don’t know, I guess until the Capitol can get the power back on.” Haymitch explains.

“And Coin?”

“I can never fully support that woman. But Plutarch got word that Peeta and the others are in the tribute center. With the power out, Coin sees this as an opportunity. She knows that Peeta is the Capitol’s weapon, the same way you’re ours. And as opposed to having you two pointing at each other, she’s going to get him.”

“I have to go help them.” Katniss springs to life.

“Woah, hey,” Haymitch reaches out a hand to stop her. “What’re you just gonna jump out of the vent and go storm the Capitol? Besides it’s already underway. Six soldiers went in, volunteer only. Y/N, Gale, Boggs and three others.”

“You just let her go?” Katniss frowns.

Haymitch admits, “she’s not the type of person you ‘let’ do things. But you know how that is, sweetheart. Between the two of you,” he lets out a low whistle, “I’m exhausted.”

————————————————————————

Madge breaks her dinner roll in half. Splitting it between Everest and Arista, the same way she’s watched Y/N and Haymitch do since they got here. Making sure little bellies are full, before their own.

Pollux approaches, motioning to the seat across from Madge, at the metal mess hall table. He sets down his tray and pulls out his note pad, to jot a message down. “Is this seat taken?”

“No,” Madge greets him, “please, sit.”

“Hi, I’m Pollux. You’re Y/N’s sister, right?”

Madge nods.

“She keeps your picture in her pocket.” Pollux smiles. “And them.” He points to the oldest children.

Everest’s eyes scan the page. “Our mom told us about you. What happened to you in the Capitol…I’m really sorry.”

“Honey,” Madge runs a hand over his hair.

“Thank you, Everest. It’s nice to meet you. Your mom talks about you all the time, she is so proud.” Pollux turns the page quickly, for more room. “Arista and Daisy too, of course. Your mom loves you all very much.”

With that the children turn back to their meals.

Madge smiles, stabbing at her food with one hand, while patting the baby in the sling. The tray moves and Pollux holds out a hand to stabilize it. “Oh, thank you. It’s ok though, you eat.”

He draws the hand back, long enough to scribble, “I’d offer to hold the baby instead, but I don’t think we’re there yet.”

Madge laughs, “funny.”

“It’s really no trouble.”

Madge shrugs, as he grips the edge of her tray, loosely. Managing his own dinner just fine.

Cressida calls him away, after a while, for Finnick’s live propo, to help jam the Capitol’s airwaves.

“I’ll see you around.”

“I’ll see you.”

————————————————————————

“This is Finnick Odair, winner of the sixty-fifth Hunger Games, coming to you from district thirteen, alive and well. We survived an attack by the Capitol, but I’m not here to give you recent news.”

“Why is Finnick doing a propo?” Katniss wonders, watching the split screen of the control room. The large, right panel is an image of Finnick. Just outside the rubble, where they asked her to film earlier, the sun has set and the lights are trained on him. The left hand side is home to six smaller panels, with the soldier’s helmet cam footage.

“It’s a lot more than that,” Haymitch informs her.

“Beetee’s commandeered the system,” Coin says, proudly.

“They’re down to generator power, so there’s a more limited range of frequencies available to them. I’m filling them all up with Y/N and Finnick. It looks like they’re both live.” Beetee assures Katniss.

“Snow will think she’s still here?” That’s brilliant.

“Not many will see it, but those who do will assume they’re just propos.”

“What they don’t know is that these broadcasts are jamming their entire system with noise. Early defense warnings, internal communications, everything. As long as one or both of the broadcasts are going through, our team should be able to get in and out without being detected.” Beetee assures her.

“You can survive the arena, but the moment you leave, you’re a slave.” Finnick narrates. “President Snow used to sell me, or my body, at least.”

“Mockingjay one, you are twenty seconds from perimeter defense.”

“I wasn’t the only one. If a victor is considered desirable, the president gives them as a reward, or allows people to buy them. If you refuse, he kills someone you love.” Finnick presses on, looking straight at camera.

“Ten seconds.” The hovercraft pilot begins counting down. “Nine, eight, seven, six.”

“Just because a victor is married doesn’t mean they’re safe.”

“Five, four, three…”

“The Capitol’s more generous patrons paid dearly to watch the wedding night, even more to witness the conception of the most beloved children in Panem.”

“Two, one.”

Katniss freezes, surely he doesn’t mean- it couldn’t be. The dress, that stupid dress they crammed her in. Why it upset Y/N so badly. Snow was taunting her.

“No response from perimeter defense, we’re inside Capitol airspace.”

“Yes,” Beetee rejoices.

Haymitch is watching the smaller screen, his jaw tense, doing his best to ignore the eyes that fall on him. Twisting his wedding band around and around. It doesn’t matter what secrets Finnick reveals, so long as he keeps jamming the signal. Keep Y/N safe.

“To make themselves feel better, patrons will offer presents of money or jewelry. But I found secrets to be a much more valuable form of payment.”

“Gear up,” Boggs orders the soldiers on the hovercraft. They are just seconds away from the tribute center. “Masks on.”

Their lenses are tinted for night vision, the red light inside makes Y/N’s heartbeat faster.

“Open the door.” Boggs says, his voice echoing through her headset. “Command, this is team leader, preparing to deploy gas. We will confirm once inside.”

“Such a young man when he rose to power, such a clever one to keep it. How, you may ask, did he do it?” Finnick is captivating, well spoken.

Katniss is hanging off every word.

“One word, poison.”

The timer for the gas grenadines finishes, on Bogg’s stop watch, “get ready to drop.”

Y/N secures her harness to the wire, giving it a firm tug. Descending through the open loading dock, releasing the wires as they reach ground.

“Clear.” Boggs, informs the team. “We’re inside, headed for target number one. Cell B forty-five, lower level two C.”

“So many deaths to well known adversaries, even allies who were deemed as threats.”

It’s dizzying, giving equal attention to Finnick’s message and the feed from inside the tribute center.

Haymitch is glued to that screen, her screen. Like he wants to reach through and bring her back with him.

Once Peeta’s holding cell is gassed, they are cleared to enter.

“Snow would drink from the same cup, to deflect suspicion. But antidotes don’t always work, which is why he wears roses that reek of perfume. To help cover the scent of sores, in his mouth, that will never heal.”

Poison, Katniss shakes her head to clear it. He’s still talking about poison.

Inside the room is a lab, full of jars, experiments. Cages. Medical equipment, some with blood still visible.

“What the fuck?” Y/N whispers, reaching out to try and make sense of it.

“Abernathy, on me.” Boggs warns, they need to stay focused.

“What is this place?” Gale asks, venturing deeper.

Their screens lights up, all of them at once. Too bright to see.

“Ahh.”

There is a collective hiss, from those in the tribute center. The power’s back on.

“Beetee?” Katniss has a hand flat against her belly, where the worry eats her alive.

“Ma’am, the Capitol air defense is rebooting. It’s coming back online.”

“They must be diverting power from another source, filtering transmissions. Another sixty seconds and we’ll be cut off.” Beetee scowls, typing furiously at the control panel.

“Get them outta there,” Haymitch demands.

“Madame President, should we call back the hovercraft?”

“Broadcast me,” Katniss decides, “if Snow’s watching this, maybe he’ll let the signal in, if he sees me. Put me on the air so he can see me.”

“Yes,” Plutarch snaps a finger. “Yes.”

“Put her on,” Coin agrees.

“Can we still do this?” Haymitch’s hands are shaking as he positions the camera in front of her. “Can we still get in?” Can we still save her?

“Yes, for the moment,” Beetee replies. “The line’s open, he will only see you.”

“Ok, Katniss,” Haymitch steps away. “Go.”

“President Snow.” Katniss says, “President Snow, it’s Katniss.”

The static continues to crackle. No more Finnick, no more footage from the tribute center. Just her.

“President Snow, can you hear me?” Katniss repeats, hoping for a miracle. “I need to speak with you, are you there? President Snow.”

“Miss Everdeen,” his voice is distorted for a moment, until the signal hones in. “What an honor. I don’t imagine you’re calling to thank me for the roses.”

“I never asked for this. I never asked to be in the games.” Katniss reminds him. “I just wanted to save my sister and keep Peeta alive. Let him go and I will stop being the mockingjay. I will disappear and you’ll never have to see me again.”

“You couldn’t run from this anymore than you could’ve run from the games.”

“Please, you’ve won.” Katniss says, “release Peeta and take me instead.”

Snow shakes his head with a smirk. “We are long past the opportunity for noble sacrifice.”

“Then tell me what to do, I’ve always kept my promises. Haven’t I?”

“You said you didn’t want a war, and that’s just what happened. I told you what a fragile thing peace was and still, like a child, you took pleasure in breaking it. I know what you are, I know you can’t see past your narrowest concerns. But please, Miss Everdeen, I doubt you know what honesty is anymore.”

“You asked me to convince you that I was in love with Peeta,” Katniss challenges. “Haven’t I at least done that?”

Snow takes great pleasure in what he’s about to say, it’s written all over his twisted features. “It’s the things we love most that destroy us. I want you to remember I said that.” He pauses. “Don’t you think I know Y/N and your friends are in the tribute center?”

Katniss feels the floor fall out from under her.

“Cut them off.” Snow says, turning away from the screen. It returns to the static hum of nothing.

They had comms back, but now Beetee’s lost them again.

“What happened?” Katniss sobs.

“Boggs, do you read me? Boggs, come in.”

“He knows they’re in there,” Katniss calls to Haymitch. “It’s a trap.”

“Katniss, calm down.” Haymitch whispers.

“We have to get ahold of them, tell them to get out. He knows.”

“There’s no signal, we can’t contact them,” Plutarch sighs.

“No, Haymitch.” Katniss crumbles, “he knew the whole time, he was taunting me! No, Haymitch-”

“No, no, we don’t know that.” Haymitch hushes her, because he has to be strong. He has to be steady, even with his world falling to pieces.

“Did I lose them all tonight? Did I lose them all?”

Haymitch pulls her into a hug. “Shhh,” he smooths down her dark waves, the same way he would his other daughters.

She holds fast, allowing him to comfort her. “Did I lose them?” The cry is muffled against his shoulder.

“Shh,” he sways them, gently.

“No, no.”

“Katniss,” Haymitch breathes, “listen to me. I need you to listen.”

She nods, unable to calm her erratic breathing.

“If Y/N died, I would feel it. I would feel it in my heart, if she was gone and I don’t. If she’s alive, Peeta is alive, Gale is alive. All we have to do is wait.”

————————————————————————

“Systems are back online.” The pilot informs them.

There’s nothing they can do. Communication with thirteen is shut down, no way to get through to Beetee. They’ll either shoot them out of the sky or they won’t. The only way out is through.

Y/N doesn’t mean to, but she holds her breath. Waiting until they clear Capitol airspace to resume a normal pattern.

Of the five other soldiers on this rescue mission, there is one medic. She begins tending Annie, Johanna and Peeta in turn. Starting IV fluids, as they are all dehydrated; unconscious from the gas.

Annie looks like herself, maybe a bit gaunt, but recognizable. Peeta is thin, so thin and covered in bruises. Johanna’s head has been shaved, cheeks hollow and ribs showing. Y/N tosses off her helmet, running both hands over her face.

“Soldier.” Boggs puts a hand to her shoulder. “You did good. We accomplished our goal. Now we can all go home.”

Y/N nods, blinking away tears.

“Take a breather, there’s a separate compartment through there,” he motions to the rear doors. “He’ll need you when he comes to.”

Peeta does not wake for some time, beginning to struggle at his bindings. No, he realizes, it’s not a binding that holds him. It’s a hand. Just one wrapped loosely around his.

It feels familiar, soft. Someone he knew once, it smells of artificial air. She is warm, the space around her is warm, gentle and kind. A second hand strokes his hair, the way he once wished his mother would.

His eyelids begin to flutter open, daring to reveal that he is conscious. If he’s wrong…if it’s not her and they’ve tricked him again, it will be his own fault.

“Peeta,” Y/N says, staring down at him.

He blinks up at her, in the too bright light. His breathing heavy as she tries to move away, to give him space, but he holds her. Squeezing her fingers.

“Peeta, do you know who I am?”

His throat is sore, voice hoarse, from screaming. “Y-yes.”

“Good,” Y/N smiles.

“Where am I?”

“We’re in a hovercraft, on the way to district thirteen.”

Peeta studies her face. There was something…something is missing, something’s wrong. “What happened to the baby?”

“She’s fine.” Y/N assures him. “Keeping her siblings and Haymitch company.”

“You’re all ok?”

Y/N nods, “yeah, honey, we’re all ok. Now we focus on getting you healthy. Ok?”

He doesn’t flee from her touch, only the occasional flinch when he forgets where he is, until she reminds him that he is safe. “You came back for me.”

“Of course I did.”

Y/N leaves him briefly, with the doctors, upon arrival in thirteen. She needs to find Haymitch, tell him she’s ok. And she is running, searching, colliding into him, with such force that they are both sent off balance.

Down to the floor, the dirty, cold floor. But no place has ever felt better. To hold him, for him to hold her and inhale the scent at the crook of his neck.

“Never again.” He pleads, massaging the back of her scalp, like he does when she’s falling asleep. “Never do that to me again.”

“I’m sorry, Haymitch.” She nuzzles the delicate skin of his throat.

“Don’t make me live in a world where you don’t exist.”

‘All I know is that I cannot die.’

Part 20

Series Taglist: @praline357 @flowercrowns-goodvibes @justheretoparty420 @avocadotoastwithegg @treehouse-mouse @emo-markie @spilled-mi1k @magical-spit @greaser9902 @jessicamellarky @yourebuckingkiddingme @smuha2004 @sendhelplease @ninimackbrews @wittiestrain184 @r1dd1kulus @erenluvr69 @helpimhyperfixating @jackierose902109 @jellybear455 @dreammgc @dadbodfanatic-x @ftdtcmlovr @inky-sun @ms-brek-ker @undercover55655 @mischiefmanaged21 @avoxrising @koiphisch @drwho-ess @daisydaisybilly

[olderthannetfic]

re: anon who got people mad at them for referring to rape as sex

That happens all the time IRL. I've had therapists chide me for referring to it as sex and tell me I'm a virgin even though 1. I'm not and 2. I hate the way that erases my actual lived reality, it's super common to hear people in support groups say it's not sex/doesn't count/you're still a pure virginal thing uwu, and I recently had to argue with my doctor that yes, it is okay to say I had sex, as putting 'I've never had sex' and 'I've had a miscarriage' on medical forms seems, to me, to be a pretty stupid thing to do. He asked if I would consider crossing out 'sexual intercourse' on the form and writing in 'rape', and I told him no, I would not, because then everyone who handles my medical files gets a very personal piece of information about me that they did not consent to receiving and did not ask for, which is kinda shitty towards them. He still seemed to regard me with the oh-you-poor-victim eyes afterwards, as if acknowledging that sex was involved = hating myself, blaming myself, being a bad victim, not being a strong badass proudly declaring it didn't effect me, etc.

People get very angry if you acknowledge that there's anything sexual about someone having sex with you against your will. The hardened cock, the orgasm, all of it is reclassified not as sex but as violence, as if those are two circles on a Venn diagram that are never allowed to touch and there's zero overlap.

I don't get how their minds work and I never have. I don't become less traumatized if I pretend there was nothing sexual about what happened. I guess it makes them personally feel comfy? And that seems to be the thing prioritized over the survivor's happiness in this context, because that's what's prioritized in most contexts, but it feels incredibly pedantic. It's like when people refer to periods as "ladies days" or "shark week" and then look at me funny when I call it a period. Sorry if I made you uncomfy but the facts remain the facts by any other name.

--

Yeah. It's from the "rape is about power, not desire" thing, which, okay, fair. But this particular imposing of power on another person still takes the form of sex.

[justmeinadaze]

"I'm Just a F**ked Up Girl Looking For Her Own Peace of Mind"

I'm currently experience this and struggling with it so I wrote a little thing here. *sighs*

TW: Mental health (anxiety and depression), child abuse, mentions of suicidal thoughts. Reader has a breakdown and the guys help her through.

Eddie firmly barreled open the front door as he powerwalked into the house. Steve had texted those two words he dreaded every time he got a text from the former jock. 

“Bad day.”

When they started dating you, you told them about your past. About the hospital stay and medication… the depressive lows and manic anxiety episodes… the thoughts that pushed through your head from time to time even though your life was so much better now than where it had been. 

“I’m not…easy…to be with.”

“That’s ok, honey, neither are we.”

You three had laughed at that at the time. 

The first time they experienced it broke their hearts for you. People always mentioned “feeling depressed” or “oh I’m so anxious about this thing!” but they discovered the true meaning of those words during your first break in front of them.

They hadn’t moved in with you yet so you were able to hide the fact that you hadn’t been sleeping. Your mind constantly reminding you of things that needed to be done and how you were a failure for not doing them. Nightmares plagued your dreams at all hours so you just gave up, scrolling through your phone instead as the mental illness continued to whisper.

“Do better. You’re lazy. May as well just get it over with and end the burden you put on people.”

That following evening you had a date night with them at their place and you couldn’t cancel. You genuinely wanted to see them but you were so tired…

“A good girlfriend goes out on dates. Go ahead. Cancel. Let’s see how quick they leave you for someone better.”

Through the first half of the movie they put on, your leg never stopped moving. Steve watched as your eyes never stayed focus in one place. Eddie felt your erratic energy radiate off you as you switched from holding his hand to letting go every few minutes. 

“Baby? Is everything ok?”

“Yeah.”, you responded a bit too enthusiastically. “Yeah, Ed, I’m fine. I’m just…I’m just a bit tired. It’s ok. I’ll get over it.”

Steve paused the film and as his hand petted your head you broke down. 

“I’m sorry. Fuck! Why can’t I be normal?! I’m ruining everything. You should just leave me and find someone better.”

“Hey, hey. No. Sweetheart, no one is better than you.”

“Talk to us, honey. What’s going on?”

You sobbed as you told them what had been happening over the last few days. The listened intently, comforting you anyway they could think of in that moment. 

“They don’t go away, Steve. Those thoughts never go away. Most days I can manage them but they are always there. W-Who can I tell? If I tell a therapist or a doctor they will put me back in the hospital even though I’m not going to do anything… I can’t tell my friends because I feel like I’m burdening them or they just don’t care. I can’t tell people in general because then I’m being ‘overdramatic’. I can’t take time to heal because I’m supposed to ‘suck it up’. So I do… Eddie, I want my brain to just stop telling me I want to die because I really don’t. Some days, though, on bad days…it’s so loud…”

The metalhead yanked you to his chest as you cried, crying with you as he tightened his grip as if he could squeeze all your broken pieces back together. He’d give anything to take your pain away, they both would. 

Today was a manic day and Steve picked up on it fast. Today was his day off and as soon as you woke up, you barely said a word. He asked you if you wanted breakfast and you shot him an angry look as you walked away. Turning on the tv, he put on the game but after a few minutes you came around the corner snapping at him to turn the noise down. Even when he muted the sound, he could hear you growling and swearing under your breath as you moved around the bedroom. 

Other people would see it as you being a brat; causing drama for the sake of drama. 

You wished you could make the world understand that was the opposite of what you wanted. In an episode like this everything was just…amplified…and for some reason your brain insisted it was on purpose. Steve was purposely turning up the volume to get under skin. The birds chirping outside knew you were on the edge so they gathered outside your window with intent. Even the clock on the bed side table was mocking you. 

Both men tried to handle days like this by themselves but when it got to a certain point, they knew they needed to come together to help you. That point came when you abruptly screamed and threw something hard against the wall. 

When Eddie entered the bedroom, Steve was off to the side watching you as you angrily paced, fluttering your fingers with eyes squeezed tightly closed. 

“What happened?”

Your eyes open at the sound of his voice as you shrugged and threw your hands in the air. 

“What happened? What the fuck happened?! Oh, I don’t know. Where do we start, Eddie?! This house is a fucking mess. I tell you guys all the time I need fucking help! I’m not a maid! I’m your girlfriend! But who fucking cares right?! We can just live in trash and be unhappy!”

They knew better than to respond. Before you three moved in together, you had suggested they come to therapy with you and they were surprised with some of the things they learned. They and even you knew they were more than accommodating when it came to housework and splitting household chores. When you were growing up, however, it was never enough.

“Jesus Christ, Y/N, look at this mess! Did you do anything today?!”

Little you looked around at the immaculate living room wondering what else you could have missed. 

“I work and I slave all day at a job I hate so you can have food and a roof! The least you could do is fucking get off your ass and clean a bit!”

“I-I’m sorry, mama.”

“Don’t be sorry. Just do your job! We’re a team remember? I need you to pull your weight.”

They could almost see interactions like that replaying through your eyes and it killed them. They also saw how fast the logic brain took over as you realized what you were doing before the depressive brain abruptly took over.

“I’m sorry. I-I don’t mean to… I know I’m being crazy…I just…” You lean your back against the wall and slide to the floor with your hands over your ears. 

Both men descend with you, crawling closer to you and as soon as Steve’s hand touches your bicep you head shoots up with eyes full of tears. 

“I’m sorry. You two don’t deserve this. I’m a terrible girlfriend.”

“No, baby, you’re not terrible. Everything’s ok.”

“I-I-I appreciate…e-e-every…everything you guys do. Fuck. Everything is so loud, Eddie. I can’t… I couldn’t…I just wanted to scream…”

“Then scream.” You laughed at his response as you wiped your eyes but he insisted. “I’m serious, sweetheart. Just let go.”

“What about…about the neighbors?”

“Like they don’t get an earful almost every night.”, he jokes, grinning when you laugh again. “Go ahead. Just lean back and let loose.”

You roll your eyes as you do what he says but it’s a small shout that barely echoes in the room. 

“Wow. That was both adorable and pathetic. Come on now. Steve, why don’t you try?”

Chuckling, he struggles to stop smiling making you giggle harder before finally closing his eyes and letting out a good scream that makes the metalhead clap. 

“That’s the king of Hawkins right there! Now try again princess.”

Sighing at his antics, you do as he says actually letting go while they scrunch their face and cover their ears. 

“Woo! That was like Banshee from X-Men! Way to go!”

“What about you, nerd?”, you ask as he smirks.

Eddie doesn’t even hesitate as he leans his head back and howls loudly like a wolf. 

“I love you both.”, you softly grin as you reach for both boy’s hands. “I’m sorry for being…me.”

Wrapping his arms around your shoulders, Steve tilts you closer to him and kisses the top of your head. 

“Don’t ever apologize for being you, honey. We love you. Every part of you.”

“We know everyday you’re trying, baby. Unlike your mother who insists on being an evil little gremlin.” You giggle at Eddie’s interpretation. “Like your wizard of a therapist said, healing takes time and we’ll be with you every step of the way.”

“Jesus, Munson, you ARE a nerd.”, Steve jests. “But the other stuff he said I agree with.”

“Oh please! Tell me her doctor doesn’t sound like Gandalf from time to time.”

“I still have no idea who that is.”

After rising to his feet, the metalhead grabs your hands and pulls you off the floor. 

“Well, I know what we’re doing tonight.”, he announces with a mischievous smirk before kissing your lips and running back towards the living room. 

“I’ll make dinner.”, Steve murmurs as he leans down to kiss your lips as well. 

“Oh, you know he won’t allow that. He’s going to want you in front of the tv so you don’t miss anything.”

“True. Hm. How about Enzos delivered?”

When you nod, he caresses your cheek before disappearing after his friend. 

As your eyes glance around the room again everything seems different than it did before. Instead of seeing a mess ridden, dark empty area, you saw a bright room filled with memories of the men you loved making you laugh and feel loved unconditionally. 

“But for how long? It’s only a matter of time.”

“No, it’s not.”, you whisper. 

Taking a deep breath, you head towards the living room where Eddie and Steve greet you with a comforting smile. 

[katzmultiverse]

i’ve realized recently how lucky i am that i was raised in a very open-minded, spiritual household.

while we went to church every week, no one told me about God or any sort of religious theology, because i was a child. i was sent to play in the nursery rather than listen and watch people cry on the stage about different religions and how they hope God or whoever they believe in gives them a break. i’m not describing it well, it was a while ago at our Unitarian Universalist church.

Mom and Dad only told me about how our family is pagan about a couple years ago, until then i hardly knew what religion i was supposed to follow, because Mom only talked about how i am the one who will change things for myself. i am the one who has to take action, even if i’ve blessed everything i own, i have to begin the changes myself, the rocks can’t do that for me.

anyways, about a year ago i told my mom about shifting, and it turns out she actually had already known about it. before that even, my therapist asked about it because another client was talking about it. i really wanted to ask who but, i knew she wouldn’t be able to tell me. i’ve even talked to my sister about shifting, she’s a bit weirded out by it, but she’s still open to the idea. i haven’t told Dad about it though, even though i tell him quite literally everything, i’m nervous to bring it up.

mom thinks about it as a sort of timeline type of thing, which is mildly confusing, but she still encourages me. it’s a bit awkward when she brings it up when the doctor talks about hallucinations, but she clarifies that it’s not a hallucination, and it seems like the psychiatrists believe us when we say it’s real.

when i see anti-shifters say that it’s just us being delusional, i’m reminded of how literally every medical professional that i’ve told about shifting, haven’t verbally questioned that it’s real.

i dunno where i was going with this. sorry guys, another ramble. i’m not good at long posts 😕 i’m gonna go to bed now, goodnight y’all 🤍

[the-guilty-writer]

Valid

Spencer Reid x Reader

Summary: After experiencing a non-epileptic seizure, Spencer refuses to leave your side.

A/N: Oh you know… just me writing to try to help heal from medical trauma.

CW: reader experiences a non-epileptic seizure, mentions of medical gaslighting.

---

For once, you found a doctor that you didn’t hate. Of course, most of the doctors you hated were MDs and Spencer had three PhDs, so he wasn’t a medical doctor, but sometimes just the Dr. abbreviation in front of the name was enough to make you upset.

You wondered, sometimes, if those doctors would have a different opinion about the cause of your so-called “psychogenic” seizure condition if they knew that you didn’t have seizures when you thought about how angry you were at them, despite their insistence that strong emotions were surely the cause of your episodes. If it wasn’t that, then they’d say it was repressed trauma, despite having therapists and psychological evaluators tell you that they didn’t see anything concerning. In the early days, you’d kept track of everything, hoping to find a trigger that was avoidable or something that you could work through, but you never did. And medical professionals never believed you.

There was nothing they could do.

You worked at the BAU, but not on the team. Your job was all about VICAP- analyzing the data to help look for any serial crimes that crossed state lines to give the FBI jurisdiction, and to evaluate if any of them required the expertise of the BAU. As soon as your position was added to the unit, Spencer had become intrigued with your job.

“You’re doing a geographical profile on the whole nation, essentially,” he had said.

“Essentially,” you had replied.

Because of safety reasons, everyone you worked with knew about your condition, but you didn’t make a big deal out of it. If anything, you tried to hide it as much as possible. When you did have seizures, you usually caught an aura in time that you could close your office door, lay down to make sure you were safe, and recover in peace. That was the only reason you were thankful that your office, which was previously JJ’s, wasn’t in the bullpen.

Most of the time, however, you were in the bullpen- sitting at a spare desk with at least two computers and a stack of spreadsheets. That’s exactly where you were today.

“Anything interesting?” Spencer asked as he came by your desk, leaning against it and taking a sip of his coffee.

“Possibly,” you replied. “And by possibly I mean there is about a-” you typed in a few numbers on your computer. “0.0032% chance that there’s a serial killer crossing between Texas, Oklahoma, and Kansas.”

“You know,” Spencer started. You probably did know, but you let him keep talking anyway. “For an organized killer that would be a great way to evade detection considering all the jurisdiction lines that would be crossed.”

“That’s why I check it every week,” you told him. “I might not be a profiler, but I do know my statistics and geography.”

“Oh, that reminds me of…” Spencer began to ramble on about a new paper that had just been published. “I’ll bring it to you tomorrow.”

“Thanks,” you went to smile, but it faltered slightly as the wave of an aura washed over you. And this time it was the kind that you knew was coming hard and fast. “I’ll be back-”

You got out of your chair and began to walk towards the bathroom. You wouldn’t make it to your office, but maybe you could save yourself the embarrassment of having to explain your unexplainable condition. Weakly, you opened up the bathroom door and stumbled inside.

Even thought it hadn’t stopped a seizure in the past, you leaned over the sink and splashed cold water on your face with the hope that it might work just this once. You felt the aura get stronger, more intense, and your body began to give out.

You crumbled to the bathroom floor- your vision leaving you and your control over your body gone. It felt like your brain had turned to mush. There was a faint sound of a door opening, but you weren’t sure if it was real or not, because the next thing you knew, you were out cold.

---

When you started to come too- the liquified world becoming solid once again- you smelled Spencer. It was his cardigan, balled up under your head. The next thing that cleared up was your hearing, but the only thing you could hear was the soft buzzing of the bathroom lights that needed to be replaced. And then there was your vision. It always came back last and was the slowest to clear, but when it did come back to you, you were met by the sight of Spencer.

There was a sort of panicked calm about him- his eyes wide with worry, but his voice soothing as he talked.

“Hey,” Spencer said calmly. “It’s Spencer. You had a seizure. Just relax.”

You took a deep breath. It could be hard to speak after a seizure sometimes, but you were able to get some words out. You started to focus on your breathing, letting the world come back to you slowly. “I’m fine.”

“You had a seizure,” Spencer said again. “Please relax. I don’t think you’re fully coherent yet.”

“I’m fine, Spencer,” you said. You carefully tried to sit up, but your head was still fuzzy and your body was still weak. Slowly, you pulled your torso upward and leaned against the wall for support before handing Spencer’s cardigan back to him and closing your eyes. “Please, just leave.” You felt heavy with embarrassment.

“I’m not going to leave you,” Spencer said gently. He sat down next to you on the floor. “You shouldn’t be alone after that.”

You opened your eyes a bit, trying to get used to the lights. “Spencer, please-”

“No,” this time he said it far more firmly. “I’m going to stay with you until you’ve recovered.”

Tears began to well in your eyes and you felt yourself wanting to sob. “They’re not even real,” you whispered. Those were the words the doctors had told you. Even after years of trying everything from CBT to biofeedback to mediation… they all just believed you were hysterical or looking for attention. “They’re not a big deal.”

“I saw it,” Spencer said, his voice taking on a higher tone. “It was real, and it was scary, and it is a big deal.”

“Then why don’t the doctors think it’s real? Why do they say it’s all in my head?” you said quietly. A tear slipped down your cheek, but you weren’t sure why. Maybe it was the humiliating feeling that a coworker had seen you at your worst, or the echoes of the voices of all the specialists that told you that you were crazy over and over again.

Spencer took your hand gently, trying to comfort you. “It’s not all in your head. There’s so much about the brain that we don’t know- it’s possible that what causes your seizures scientists don’t even know exist yet. Just because they can’t see it doesn’t mean it isn’t real. It isn’t your fault that medical professionals feel the need to blame things they can’t see on psychiatric issues instead of being open minded,” Spencer tripped over his words just a little. You hadn’t spent months hanging around profilers to have caught onto nothing.

“You sound like you speak from experience,” you said quietly. There was a pause. “But you don’t have to tell me.”

“No, I-” Spencer said. “I want to tell you.” He sighed. “A few years ago I was having headaches. They’d last days at a time. I couldn’t focus at work and it cut my reading speed in half.” If you had the strength you would have laughed at that- even at half the speed, Spencer could still read about five times as fast as the average person. “And I got every test and image done imaginable, but the doctors told me it was all in my head.”

His hand was still in yours and you squeezed it gently in support. He smiled gently. “I ended up finding a geneticist that helped me. She had me superdosing with a few vitamins at certain intervals and they cleared up eventually.”

“I’m happy for you,” you told him. It was sincere. As hard as it was to watch other people get better while you still suffered, you were always glad they didn’t have to continually experience pain.

“I wish I could help you,” he said.

“You’re the only doctor I know who hasn’t minimized my experience and told me that yoga and therapy will make it go away. That’s more help than an MD has given me in years.” You opened your eyes fully, having started to recover more.

Spencer’s eyes were wide and longing, like if he looked at you with enough sympathy it would take all the trauma of being gaslit for years taken away. “You’re not crazy. Your condition is real, No matter what anyone says.” He squeezed your hand again. “You’re valid.”

There weren’t words to express the relief his words gave you, so you had to settle and hope that he could feel, through the touch of your hands, how impactful his acknowledgement was.

“Thank you,” you whispered. “Really. Thank you.”

[cinnaminyoons]

LIAR, LIAR !!

!!   ksj x m!reader

!!   wc | 5.7k

!!  tags | guns, threats, mentions of violence/sex work, drinking, reader has an older sister

[ event masterlist ]

petty thief/mob boss

stuck in interrogation rooms across from one another 

“i’ve been waiting to kick your ass all week.”

“i’m telling you, the guy’s innocent. just look at his file – look at his face. nobody that young and anxious can lead the country’s most notorious crime syndicate.”

the two officers glance into the plain white room. a dark-haired man sits inside, hands in his lap. he wears scuffed white sneakers and ripped blue jeans, and he shivers in a plain t-shirt. he’s staring across the hall into another room, where a younger man lazes with handcuffs around his wrists and a bored, dangerously calm expression – his head rolls in his direction and their supposed gang leader snaps his gaze quickly away, eyes wide as his knee bounces rapidly.

the older officer scoffs. “looks can be deceiving, junior. his handsomeness doesn’t make him innocent.” he shares a glance with another officer on the other side of the bullpen and claps a hand on his shoulder, herding him towards their suspect. the cadet fumbles with the manilla folder and clutches it to his chest.

“now,” he says assertively, “don’t speak to him. let me do the talking. guard the door in case he makes a run for it.”

the cadet isn’t sure that’s exactly protocol, but the senior officer has several major cases under his belt, and he’d be damned if he told an expert how to conduct himself. he nods, passing it over, and opens the door for him.

the officer takes a seat opposite the man, who watches them rigidly. he opens the folder and shuffles through the stapled and free sheets of paper silently, letting the room stew in uncomfortable tightness.

he whistles, impressed. “you’re a sky university graduate and student, mr kim? already one doctorate under your belt and you’re still studying?”

seokjin smiles tightly. “yes, sir.”

“what in, if you don’t mind me asking?”

“radiopathology. i’m going for a medical degree this round. sir,” he adds as an afterthought.

the officer locks his fingers together on the table. “studies like this – must cost you a fortune. how are you, financially?”

his gaze flicks to the younger officer by the door. he shrugs, small and tight, and his shoes scuff against the floor. he sighs, a haunted look in his eyes. “fine, i guess, but i’ll die before i pay off my student debt.”

the cadet snorts and covers it up with a cough. the senior officer gives him a sharp glance.

“then why continue?” he flicks through the pages, more for appearance than any mental refreshment. “your academic records tell me you could get a hefty paycheck, even fresh out of university, with your current doctorate. seems like overkill to me.”

something flickers over seokjin’s features. he drops his gaze and sits straighter, as if bracing himself. “my father developed cancer. an occupational hazard. with both degrees, i’ll gain the ability to not only prevent such deaths, but also to treat those in suffering, alleviating their pain.”

the officer eyes him with an unreadable smile. “you’ve practiced that.”

“yeah. i’ve had lots of experience with therapists and applying for tertiary grants. it gets easier to say every time.”

the officer leans in. seokjin leans away.

"so, will i be free to go anytime soon? i'm not trying to obstruct justice or anything, but i have a tutorial tomorrow at eight in the morning and i really need to get my affairs in order." seokjin frowns, mostly to himself. "i haven't even started my flashcards. i'm so screwed..."

"you'll be right to leave when i say so," he says sharply. "i've got a couple more questions for you, mr kim."

across the hall, a young woman in a blue pencil skirt and black heels enters the interrogation room. she shuts the door gently, sharp eyes raking the young man's figure, and shifts the folders against her chest.

"eyes up, little brother."

your gaze flickers upwards, following her without raising your head as she takes a seat across from you, smoothing her skirt beneath her legs.

"hello, yn," she murmurs, clasping neatly manicured hands over the files. "i haven't found you here since you were twelve. what would father say?"

"that i'm a terrible son. now everyone knows that i failed to get the job done."

she sighs, pursing her lips. "don't joke like this. what were you thinking? you're here for charges of petty theft and assault and battery. you're a better man than that."

"i fucked up, okay? it should've been a clean job – in and out without so much as a whisper. how the hell was i supposed to know that the lady had a side bitch? and," you lean forward, chains clinking as you press your palms against the table, "and, he threw the first punch. all i did was defend myself."

her eyes narrow into a glare. "you nearly killed the man! you're lucky he's not going to the media with this. there's only so much i can do for you, idiot, and i've only got two choices for you."

"jail time or – let me guess – community service?"

"no. jail time or help me find evidence for a case."

you blink. "what?"

she glances up at the camera in the corner of the room and sighs. "do you see the man across from you? white shirt."

you don't need to look over. "yeah. why, he your boyfriend?"

"he's the leader of an international crime syndicate. i know it. i just don't have the legal proof of it." she drums her fingers against the table. "this is where you come in. i need you to get close to him, grab some irrefutable audio recordings, and return to me. that's all i need."

you lean back in your chair, which creaks. you rub your eyes and wince. "fuck, noona, i'm not a grifter. i don't do long-cons. i like jewellery and shitty safes."

"it's either this or jail," she says firmly. "i can clean these charges off your record if i get him. let's just say that some very important people are banking on his arrest. please, yn – do it for me."

you shake your head incredulously, pressing your lips together. "you're asking cats to bark, noona. even if i wanted to, i don't have the right skillset – i'm no actor. and besides, what the fuck can someone like me do to get into a gang leader's inner circle?"

"i don't care how you get it done. if my intel serves, then he's partial to men like you," she emphasises, widening her eyes meaningfully. "get him chatty in bed if you have to; i don't give a shit. i believe in you, yn – you've got a solid history of excelling at everything you set your mind to. you could've been a brain surgeon, if you really wanted it."

you glance over at the man himself. your tongue darts over your lower lip. you turn back to the sergeant, slumping back in your chair. "there's no way that he's got any experience. he looks like a prude. he'll probably be asleep before i close his legs."

she makes a face. "i don't ever want to hear about that. listen, just try. for me? maybe you can get by with a little flirting – finally put that face of yours to good use. you didn't suffer through our family pinching your cheeks and telling you how you'd be a heartbreaker when you grew up to do absolutely nothing with it, right?"

"noona, i don't know..."

"oh, come on. it's not like he's hideous. can't be too hard to tell him he has nice eyes, can it?"

you sneak another glance, doubt written all over your features. it crumbles and you grimace, lifting a hand to rub the back of your neck. the other arm dangles from the cuffs. "fine! fine. i'll do it. for you. if i die, it's entirely your fault."

she lights up. "thank you! you've got this. stop by my apartment tonight, alright? i'll fill you in on the details, and you can get started in the morning. you can crash on my couch if you want to – i'm sure i've got enough of your clothes in a box somewhere to last you until you leave."

"yeah, yeah." you lift your hands towards her. "just get these fucking things off me, noona."

—

"what is this?"

"a good time, hyung!" taehyung grabs seokjin's elbow and drags him out of the sleek black car. he grins, bright and giddy, with a childish charm that suits his face but not the price tag of his suit. he wears burgundy, and if one looks closely, his glossy black shoes carry scars and scuffs from many tumbles. a surprising number of people have been close enough to notice – taehyung's carefree demeanour always masks his brutality.

seokjin's face twists, lightly peeved, as taehyung breezes past security without so much as a glance. "you told me you needed to pick something up. you lied to me."

he lifts a finger as the heavy bass music squeezes his lungs. "nuh-uh. i didn't lie – i do need to pick something up! i'll grab you something on the way in, too."

"can't you go one night without getting your rocks off?" seokjin nearly shouts. he can barely hear himself over the music. it is, however, satisfying to raise his voice, especially as taehyung flaps a dismissive hand in his direction.

"of course i can! but would i like to? no! oh – is that a new dancer? he's cute."

seokjin lets taehyung reel him through the club, blinking against the blue strobe lights. someone brushes against him and the hard steel lump in seokjin's jacket gives him pause, but seokjin meets his eyes unflinchingly and he drops his own, pushing his way through the crowds.

"i have better things to spend my time on," seokjin says, rather crossly. taehyung sits him down at an empty booth, firm hands on his shoulders. "not even a private room? i didn't raise you this way!"

taehyung huffs. "come on, hyung. it's not like it'll kill you. you deserve a little rest, especially after that fiasco with the mole! private rooms are quiet, and quiet means space to think, and space to think means that you'll be grumpy for the next two days. just let the music drown out the stresses of everyday life."

as he speaks, arms animated and dramatic, a good-looking man sashays over, wearing nothing but a pair of tight black shorts that leave little to the imagination. he sets down a beer in front of taehyung, who pushes the glass across the table towards seokjin.

then, when taehyung's mouth opens to continue his lecture, the man crawls onto the table with a seductive smile and begins to dance – or grind, really, against the air.

he's good. seokjin notices the snappy, controlled edge to his smooth, rolling movements more than his nakedness, and he wonders if he's a dancer. he wouldn't be surprised – with a body like that, he's bound to do well in such a place.

"are those moccasins?"

evidently, taehyung has different priorities.

taehyung prods at the dancer's ankles and he slides into a neat perch on the table's edge, his thighs trapping taehyung in the booth. he tilts taehyung's chin upwards with a flirty smile.

seokjin half-expects taehyung to vanish into a bathroom with him, but to his surprise, he shakes his head and gently places his legs aside.

"we're here for you," taehyung explains in response to seokjin's raised eyebrow as the dancer sways away. "plus, you're my ride home; my car's still being fixed up, can you believe it?"

"it's been a day, taehyung. give them time." seokjin glances around, hands resting almost mechanically on his thighs. if it wasn't for the frown on his face, he would look at home on set and in front of a camera. "so, your plan was to get me drunk? i'm not going to drink this."

"why not? you're getting paranoid again."

"someone could've spiked it," he argues. "and it's not paranoia – it's called vigilance and helps me stay alive. do you know how many times you would've died if i wasn't there? more times than i can count."

"oh, please. you're holding air above my head. i can take perfectly good care of myself. you just like to feel important."

if he were anyone but his little brother, he would no longer have a tongue to wag.

taehyung shrugs and reaches for seokjin's untouched beer. he lifts it to his lips, sipping delicately, and his face screws up in disgust. he gags, pushing it back towards seokjin. "no. still gross. ew."

he shakes his head like a dog ridding itself of water before his expression clears. he leans forward. "anybody here catch your eye?"

"no."

"come on. someone here has to at least touch your impossibly high standards."

seokjin rolls his eyes. his gaze sweeps over the dark club. "the bartender."

"bold move." he squints harder at the bartender through the strobe lights. he purses his lips. "you know what? i don't think i know him. damn. but finders keepers, i suppose – i'll go find out who he is."

"taehyung," seokjin says sharply. "he's working. don't make it harder than it needs to be."

he blows a raspberry, settling back down in his seat. "buzzkill. fine – you go talk to him, then. give him your number, or something."

"and do what everyone else does? present myself as desperate? absurd."

taehyung groans. "you are making my job way too hard. i am trying to get you laid. you're as good-looking as me – this should be easy!"

"as good-looking," seokjin mutters disdainfully. he raises his voice slightly. "i was just accused of a myriad of crimes, embezzlement and racketeering included. forgive me if i'm a little wary of strangers."

"you're fine," taehyung drawls. "you played the good boy so well. i barely recognised you in cuffed levi's." he casts an appreciative glance in the bartender's direction and begins to stand. "i'm gonna shoot my shot with smiley over there. my dear, he's a sight for sore eyes. wish me luck!"

"i'll break your legs."

"it's 'break a leg', generally."

"sit," he demands.

taehyung whines, "i'm not a dog," but sits anyway.

seokjin rises to his feet. "stay," he says, as if he hadn't heard his last words at all.

taehyung wiggles a finger. "that's the kind of attitude that makes people dislike you, hyung." he starts to sway. "be open-minded. easy as the ocean waves. light as a sea breeze."

"are you drunk from one sip of beer?"

he stops swaying. "you're so cruel! you'd be nicer if you just shot me in the head. since you care about your stupid reputation so much, i'm gonna go have my fun, and you can sit here and brood like the handsome and emotionally-unavailable man that you are. good-fucking-bye."

he stomps off – far too suavely, so that it looks more like a catwalk stride than a temper tantrum. however, once his grumpy gaze catches sight of a familiar head of blond hair sitting at a booth with three equally-familiar friends, he brightens and waves his arms, shouting over the music in frantic german.

the woman turns, her arm linked with a pretty korean girl. she grabs taehyung's hand and pulls him down next to her, squishing the three of them into the wall, and the beaming grins and laughter around the table suggests to seokjin that taehyung has been rather well-received.

a small smile tugs at seokjin's lips. at least he has his friends.

he sighs and stands, dusting off his trousers. he pauses by the end of the booth's table, his attention caught by the bartender. he's smiling, chatting to a co-worker as he shakes a mixer. he wears a bowtie and a waistcoat, the sleeves of a crisp white dress shirt rolled up tight at the elbows – same as the other bartender. but he seems to glow in it: everything around him appears brighter, sharper, more vivid.

maybe taehyung was right. maybe he does need to loosen up.

"hey. what can i get for you?"

seokjin slides onto a bar stool. "just a rum and coke, please. thanks."

the bartender grins. nods. he looks better up close. "not a problem. shall i open up a tab for you?"

seokjin hums in thought. he shakes his head. "i'll just take this one. you have a nice smile."

it takes a half-second for the bartender to register the compliment. that smile grows slightly flustered. "oh! thank you. one rum and coke."

he bustles away. seokjin thinks it's a shame that he wears no name tag.

he returns quickly with seokjin's drink in his hand, and seokjin almost smiles at the fact that he skipped over all the other waiting patrons to complete his drink first. he hides his amusement with the chilled rim of the glass.

"so, handsome... when does your shift end?"

the bartender grins. "half an hour. is there any reason in particular you're asking?"

"i'm not so ill-mannered as to take your attention off the other lovely patrons just to compliment your arms or the way that bowtie looks on you. i can appreciate a strong work ethic."

"you're starting to sound like my boss," the bartender laughs. "but for you, handsome, i can make it twenty minutes. think you can nurse a rum and coke for that long?"

"for you?" he raises the glass. "as long as you need."

—

seokjin's waist fits in your hand ever so perfectly. when you'd first met him, you'd played it so safe that you'd almost forgotten to give him your name. you gave yourself a new last name and a subtle accent, but that was as far as the changes went. sure, you were well-known for being in the drama club in high school, but it wasn't your... passion. nothing quite hit the spot like black gloves and diamonds.

"you look lovely tonight," you comment with a smile, leaning in to keep the waitress out of it. she slows to a stop beside a table set for two and bows before taking her leave.

"as do you," seokjin says gently, a smile lighting up his face when you pull his chair out for him. if it's not the candlelight throwing shadows, you think there's a warm blush on his cheekbones. "i adore the way you dress. i can appreciate a taste for the finer things."

you finger the diamond choker around your neck, set with white gold. it sits above the deep v of your black shirt, accentuating just how deep it falls, and provides a nice contrast. it matches the chopard watch and its woven steel bracelet on your wrist.

"finer things?" you tease, stroking the collar of your shirt. his eyes flicker from the diamonds to the split of your chest. "it's more of a... bad habit, to be truthful. but when i heard where we were headed tonight, i was afraid i'd be wildly underdressed, and then overdressed."

he laughs softly – a sweetly unique sound that has your lips curving up automatically. "you don't have anything to be worried about. you look like you were born for this life. actually, you make me self-conscious – i should've tried something more avant-garde than a suit."

you shake your head with a laugh. "it's a learned skill. you've found something you look ravishing in; why not exploit it?"

"you're too kind." he's had a thousand people compliment the cut of his jacket and tailoring of his pants, but none felt quite so heart-fluttering as yours. he hides his smile with his slender fingers and averts his eyes to escape the alluring heat of your gaze. "but, truly – those diamonds do look stunning on you. do you have much of a collection?"

"oh, no; i couldn't afford it if i tried. it's such a shame. i feel like they're calling for me to touch them, and sometimes the desire is simply too strong to resist, you know? i indulge myself terribly."

he brushes his fingers over his plush lower lip. "it's alright. i know the feeling. i really do love the way you look with them, so would you mind bringing me the next time you go to a jeweller's? anything that catches your eye, you can have. anything at all. it'd be a sin to deprive you of them when i've seen you in these simple ones – i can't imagine what i'd do with myself if you wore something a little more... eye-catching."

you pause. your eyes widen. "oh – oh, no, seokjin – i couldn't ask that of you."

"that's why i'm offering, love." he smiles sweetly.

"you'd really buy such expensive things for me? i'm flattered, truly, but i wouldn't want our relationship to become... transactional." you reach across the table and place your hand on his. his bright smile turns shy. "i've loved our time together, seokjin. i don't want to lose that."

it takes a second longer than usual for him to compose himself and find his words. "you wouldn't lose it. they'd just be gifts – you wouldn't have to do anything in return. don't worry," he emphasises, squeezing your hand gently, "about the money. i have lifetimes of it. i'd be glad to know where it's going."

you squeeze his hand as well, turning your palm up to grasp his knuckles as if you're about to kiss them. your thumb runs over his joints and the curves of his knuckles, and chuckle. "you really are too good to me, seokjin."

the hum of the restaurant fades away into a low murmuring ripple. the lights fade to dull spots. everything but him vanishes, pushed to the furthest extremities of your consciousness, and you lean in. he follows.

the kiss is soft and silky. his lips tingle where they press to yours, like the gentle tang of a teaspoon of lime juice. you sip on him slowly, like mezcal, and relish in the sweet sting, as rich and bright as an amaretto sour.

he tilts his head, and the kiss deepens to something more appropriate for the bedroom. he catches himself before it goes too far with a soft gasp, pulling away. his dark eyes flutter open, flicking up to yours.

he clears his throat. "so, are you hungry?"

"of course," you reply, matching his nonchalance. you shrug with an embarrassed, lopsided grin. "i've just never been to a restaurant that doesn't offer their menu anywhere..."

seokjin's eyes widen slightly. a flush remains on his cheeks – the memory of your lips on his sticks to the forefront of his mind, crowding out much else. "oh! it's a fixed menu, love. it's why i asked for your dietary requirements the other day. they base the size on how many people there are. i'm so sorry – i'd forgotten all about it the moment i saw you." he giggles at himself endearingly. that severe, revenge-served-cold persona at the bar seems entirely removed. he even sits differently – a little more open, relaxed.

you watch him with a soft smile. "you're quite the charmer, did you know that? i could sit here and listen to your voice the whole night long."

"well," he laughs again, "i think that's how dinner dates work, so you’re in luck."

a waitress, different to the one who seated you, stops by with a polite smile and the entrees. you thank her and glance back down at each other, smiling when your eyes meet.

this might not be so hard, after all.

—

it doesn't take much to slide into seokjin's 'inner circle' – and not the one he lets you into in the bedroom. that one came first. after that, it was simply existing by his side, practically living in his luxurious penthouse apartment and massaging his shoulders when work became rough, until he grew comfortable enough not to flip over his classified papers when you leant over his chair to kiss him on the cheek.

you have yet to find anything incriminating in those glances; it's all reasonable numbers in those financial year statements. he takes his work with him – not just between work and home, but even to the bedroom. he sets his messenger bag on a chair with his tie next to the wardrobe, which means that you can't creep away and take a late-night sneak peek at anything under those superficial numbers.

one night, you're milling around the living room directly in front of the entrance, your shoes patient by the front door. the apartment is oddly shaped, as far as apartments go. maybe they're different for rich people, but you haven't seen one quite like it before. the living room branches out like a capital 't' and hooks around in a loop, with a staircase on the right leading up to a mezzanine containing the bedroom, office, and bathroom. in the day, it's brightly lit; huge panels of glass stretching across the walls from floor to ceiling display downtown seoul's skyline. at night, spots of light glimmer in the darkness, and a slow, blinking red dot will sometimes make its way over the roofs. before you, seokjin says, he kept the curtains closed as soon as the sun went down, but that you've shown him a beauty in the night that he can no longer ignore.

you lie along the leather couch, a pillow folded beneath your head. your eyes are closed. conventional, inoffensive radio songs float through speakers inset in the ceiling. despite those speakers in every room – so that he doesn't have to carry one around with him – he still has a dedicated movie setup, complete with atmos speakers. somehow, he'd found the sweet spot for the audio, despite his open-plan home being a noticeable springboard for sound.

the door opens, and a set of footsteps enters. the door closes behind them. your brow furrows and you're on your feet in half a second – those aren't seokjin's steps.

the young man in front of you instinctively reaches for something at the back of his belt. you've watched enough movies to know what it is that he's got his fingers around.

"well, he-llo, gorgeous," he greets flirtatiously in a deep, smooth voice. he wears a peach-coloured three-piece with a matching tie and a black shirt. a lock of dark hair curls romantically over his eyebrow, and you wonder how long he took in the bathroom to get it right. "you look familiar. have we met?"

you don't relax. neither does he. you smile politely. "i don't believe we have. i imagine someone like you would be hard to forget."

"hm." his lips curve up. "then allow me to introduce myself. kim taehyung: art aficionado, music connoisseur, and lover of many. i decorated this place – do you like what i've done with it?"

"it's better than most apartments i've been to."

he hums and moves towards the bar on the corner. he moves behind it to pour himself a glass of cherry cola – he's not as clueless as he looks, then. he'll keep an eye on you this way. he adds ice, and it clinks in his glass. 

he begins, "my brother... he's not one for aesthetics. i'm certain he'd live in a cement box if it had everything he needed in it. i've made it my personal mission to fill his homes with as many useless objects as i can before he becomes suspicious. take this, for example."

he points to a white vase of lilacs on the end of the bar and fixes it, brushing his knuckles over the flowers. "this vase... it's beautiful, but it cost as much as a car. i haven't the slightest idea why. i could go to the nearest department store and get something identical for a handful of spare change."

he lifts his glacial gaze, staring at you from the corner of his eyes. he's not talking about vases.

you scoff and sit back down, turning your back to him. he's not going to do anything – not when he's assuming such things about you. "you don't even know my name, but you're already insulting me."

"i've been pushing him to release some stress. he takes himself too seriously – someone needs to loosen the stick up his ass, maybe replace it with something better." he pops a blue umbrella in his glass with a twirly pink straw and lifts it to his lips. "i've had this conversation with three other men before you, did you know? you're the first to understand it." he tilts his glass in your direction, almost a toast. "i like you."

"what are you here for, kim taehyung?" you ask bluntly. you rest your arm over the backrest and watch him over your shoulder. his sad little glass of cola makes your fingers itch – you need to make him a proper drink.

he gestures vaguely at the city skyline with the cola. it sloshes dangerously close to the rim. "what we're all here for. a good time. that, and i wanted to know who had my stoic brother wrapped around their pinky finger. seeing you now – i can see why."

"thought he wasn't one for aesthetics," you comment drily.

he laughs at that, full and animable. "oh, attractive and witty. that must be the reason why my brother can't think straight anymore – as soon as someone has a sharp tongue, he's completely enamoured. do you like him as much as he likes you?"

you rise to your feet, finally unable to hold back the carnal desire to make him a drink of the clothes he's wearing – that little party glass won't do. smoothly, he moves around the bar, keeping to the opposite side at all times as you slip off your white jacket and drape it over the bench you wouldn't notice the action if you weren't looking for it. you already had seokjin in the palm of your hand – it was this boy you needed to worry about. his suspicion might brush against something it shouldn't.

you reach for a coca-cola and the bottle of grenadine syrup. "i keep his company because i enjoy our conversations."

"sounding more and more like an escort," he comments blithely. "there's no need to be so tense around me, big boy. i just want to know if my big brother is in good hands. yours seem very capable."

plucking a couple of maraschino cherries out of the fridge, you balance them on the ice in the tall glass. you turn, and you bite back a smirk as taehyung's brow twitches upwards.

"thank you," you say, setting the glass down and sliding it across the bar. "i didn't poison it, if you're wondering. just a simple roy rogers. a man of your standing deserves better than a can of coke garnished with an umbrella."

he watches you move around the bar, whipping up a pisco sour. he plucks the cherries off their stems with his teeth and chews slowly, savouring the sweetness. "huh. you're ticking all the boxes – hyung might have to share you with me. that – or you can tell me why you're really after him. you're not an escort, so it's not about money. you don't fuck him nearly as often as he needs to be, so it's not about sex."

a dull, steely thump. you turn around, the shaker in your hands.

his fingers slide off of the silver handgun on the bar. he raises the roy rogers to his lips, his eyes fixed on yours.

he's seen a lot of reactions to a gun. he's seen fear, he's seen hysteria – hell, he's even seen lust. the drink pauses halfway to the bar when you laugh boisterously.

"you can't intimidate me, kim taehyung," you chuckle, shaking it dry. "you wouldn't believe the number of people who've pulled a weapon on me. some were twice your size – ex-military types, far too trigger-happy to continue shooting and call it patriotism. i'm not going to hurt you or your brother, and i won't tell the cops that you're packing. pleased?"

you pop open the shaker and drop in the ice. you resume shaking.

the front door opens. those are seokjin's footsteps.

you turn around with bright eyes, grabbing a glass. "oh, seokjin! how was your day? i've been waiting to kick your ass all week – my mario kart skills are getting better."

"my day was boring, but much better now that i've seen you. you'll have to show me your new moves." he looks up from digging around in his messenger bag and halts at the sight of taehyung in his peach-coloured suit and platform boots. his gaze hones in on the glint of steel taehyung didn't quite manage to hide.

his eyes narrow and his expression hardens. his voice snaps their consonants, arctic-cold. "are you threatening my partner, taehyung?"

"of course not," you interrupt, sending taehyung a candied grin. "your little brother was just making himself comfortable. it'd be hard to be at ease with that digging into your back, wouldn't it?"

the thick silence between them is palpable.

"come now, darling," you hum, pouring the cocktail. you add the garnishes and hold it out with an inviting smile. "you're at home. relax."

after a pause, he steps forward. another step. he dumps his bag on the couch as he passes it and accepts the drink with a grateful sigh.

"you're too good to me, love," he murmurs, tilting his head to allow you better access with your kisses. "i'm sorry i didn't introduce you to taehyung earlier. he's always so busy with the family business. did he play nice with you?"

"mm, of course," you whisper sweetly, sliding your hands up over his thighs and hips. you press a kiss to his jaw and lift your eyes to taehyung's – he glares daggers back, and his mouth thin into a tight line. "we're getting along well. a few initial speed bumps, yes, but all relationships have their rocks and pitfalls. even if we didn't," you nibble on his earlobe just to see taehyung divert his gaze, "he'd have to get used to me, sooner or later."

[thebastardgerard]

Recently, after reading my friend @metalheadsforblacklivesmatter ‘s posts, I thought it was finally time to share my own story experiencing medical racism, transphobia and sexism.

TW: MEDICAL TOPICS, RACISM, TRANSPHOBIA, SEXISM AND EDS.

Somethings about me and disclaimers:

For those who don’t know me, hi hello, what’s the dealio? My name is Kuco, I’m a two-spirit black-indigenous mixed person. I am light-skinned, but most people can tell I’m mixed or assume I’m Latino, to the point where my medical documents mark me as Hispanic despite myself telling them to change it. I’m also AFAB.

While my experience is bad, it’s not unique to just me. Other people who are apart of the BIPOC community have faced the same or much worse. Regardless, please listen those in the community with darker skin. They often face much worse. If you’re only comfortable listening to those with lighter skin and feel more comfortable while claiming you’re an ally, you’re wrong and need to do better.

My story:

In 2021, I was experiencing nausea and vomiting after I ate. After a week of this continuously happening while working, I went to see a doctor who sent me to a surgeon, who sent me to a gastroenterologist to see what could be done without surgery.

This doctor was a cis white man in his late 60s who was apparently “retired.” After pointing out my symptoms and how they were getting worse, he looked through my medical history and noticed I had anxiety. He immediately went to the conclusion of a “brain-to-gut” connection, saying it was often found in woman. (Shock to no one, that wasn’t the case. Also, the issue was not my anxiety. My anxiety has progressive gone down and was at the lowest it had been in YEARS. My therapist at the time even confirmed this himself.) During this time, he also repeatedly referred to me using she/her pronouns, despite that my medical record points out that I am transgender and went by he/him pronouns at the time. (Despite me pointing this out, he continued to ignore this.) He gave me medications that were supposed to help, a doctor’s note (as I worked at the time) and sent me on my way.

Things only got worse. After 6 months of my symptoms getting worse and worse (to the point I could not eat solid food and started vomiting liquid) and several tests, he still believed it was a brain to gut issue. I had lost a lot of weight, to the point my own family noticed.

One of the last appointments I had with this doctor involved what’s called a gastric emptying test. For this test, a radioactive isotope (which isn’t harmful to humans) is put into some eggs and ingested. Pictures are taken of your stomach to track how long the isotope stays in your stomach after 2 hours, 3 hours, and 4 hours. Normally, your stomach is meant to empty at the 2 1/2 to 3 1/2 hour mark. (By what I was told, mind you.)

My stomach emptied finally at the ladder end of 4 hours. This was considered on the way lower end of normal.

Once my doctor got this result, this was his response: The test says that your empty is at the lower end of what was normal, so that’s normal. Just keep taking your meds. It’s more common for Caucasian (white) people to have more serious gastric problems. Just so you know, I’m not writing you another note for your work, it’s not what I do.

This is what broke the camel’s back.

I called my primary care doctor and let her know that I wanted a different doctor who was a woman to see. I told her that he wasn’t listening to me nor taking me seriously and I refused to see him again. I also let her know that he was refusing to write me anymore work notes, despite the issue not being resolved. (A small time after this, my job let me go due to not having a return date. They said I was allowed to reapply afterwards, but I didn’t for different reasons. That’s another story for a different day.)

My primary care doctor sent me to a different doctor who was a woman and also happened to be a POC.

I had an appointment a week later, in which I told her all my symptoms and how I was barely able to eat it drink anything without being nauseous and vomiting. She listened to me while looking at my previous results from previous tests, in which she saw my gastric emptying test.

Her response was: Your test says your emptying is on the lower end of what’s normal, but by what you’re saying, it’s only gotten worse. Why didn’t he give you anything? I’m surprised you’re even talking to me right now.

I told her that he had said that due to my anxiety, it was a brain to gut issue, which was common for “woman” and continually insisted on that, as well as his other comments. She concluded I have a condition called Gastroparesis, or delayed gastric emptying. This is a condition that affects the stomach muscles and prevents proper stomach emptying. While there isn’t a certain idea of why it happens, it’s thought that those who previously suffered from EDs and have diabetes contract it more. (I had suffered from EDs when I was younger and have a history of diabetes that runs in my family, which is where I believe my causes came from.)

I suffered 9 months with this condition without proper treatment, in which my symptoms were prolonged, got worse, and almost passed, all because if ONE doctor.

While I got better for a time, I’m still battling with this condition, as well as other conditions that came along.

~~~~~~~~~

When those in the BIPOC community tell you we don’t trust white people, especially doctors, it’s because we’ve been shown time and time again the complete disregard for our care and safety.

Use your allyship for good and protect us.

I would like to thank my friends for your help, but especially with my partners and my friend @metalheadsforblacklivesmatter . They helped me so much through those 9 months, and even now continue to help and support me. I love you guys so so much. 🩵🩵🩵

[rainbow-fairylandsystem]

god, i can't tell recently if i'm processing my trauma properly or if i'm just blocking everything out. all my trauma and my system just feel... gone, i guess. none of it feels like its real anymore, and if i do remember any of it, it doesn't feel like it matters in any meaningful way

one of my system members told my therapist that my brother used to beat on me as a kid, but all the memories i have of times like that are times that my mom saw it as an acceptable level of sibling disagreement. she says we just had a sibling rivalry, but like... idk, i never hit him or locked him in closets or anything like he did to me. i just called him names and yelled at him and stuff, which i feel like is more normal

i told her last session that i used to have a scar on my forehead from when he threw a pole at me, and she asked me if i needed stitches or anything, and i said no, but i also have to admit that i don't remember the incident at all. like, no memory whatsoever, i just know what people told me. i'm pretty sure everyone just kind of brushed it off once they determined i wasn't bleeding. but also like... i had a scar for years after that? i don't know how i get a scar that deep and it doesn't draw any blood

my therapist said it was my parent's job to make sure i didn't get a concussion or at least get me looked at by a doctor, especially since he hit me hard enough to leave a scar. and i don't know what to do with that, because i definitely didn't get any medical attention afterwards

[veronicaphoenix]

Chapter tags & trigger warnings: Japanese folklore, implied mentions of depression + substance intake. Basically angst, a confused Noah, a cryptic grandmother, and Jolly and Jesse trying to be good friends. | Word count: 3.1k | Cross posted on AO3. | Series masterpost. ✧.*

General trigger warnings: This work addresses and depicts issues related to addiction and violence, contains explicit sexual content, and explores themes of childhood trauma. Reader discretion is advised. +18

Four days. 

            I spent four days in bed, wondering if it was ever going to end. 

            Four days with a fever that came and went.

            Four days coughing-up all kinds of flowers.

            Jolly joked that we could make bouquets and sell them, make a living out of it. That was the second day, right before he decided he was going to call the doctor. When I tried to rise my voice to complain, he told me to fuck off. 

            Four days with Lia ignoring my calls and replying to my texts with single words.  

            The doctor came on a grey afternoon —to make it any more dramatic, sure— and checked me up, only to tell me what we all already knew: My condition was very strange, he had never seen something like it, and he could only prescribe some more medicines or take me to the hospital so that they could run more tests. That’s what had happened last time, and things didn’t get any better until Lia appeared through the door, breathing hard because Jesse had just called her and told her that I had been admitted in the hospital. She spent a few hours with me in the hospital room. Then, once I was cleared, she came home with me, kept me company for a while, and when she went back to Mitch’s apartment, he bruised her. I didn’t know then. If I had known, I would have taken her out of that Hell much before, when it was still not too late. 

            With the constant high fever came the hallucinations. Sometimes I could see Lia by my side. She would place her hand on my forehead and look at me apprehensively, worry flooding her eyes. Then she would move my hair out of my face, trace my eyebrows with the tip of her fingers, and tell me I would be alright. 

            And I would. I really got better the times it’d happened before. Lia believed it was the medication I was taking, just as the doctors and Jolly and the rest of the boys believed, but I knew better. 

            Jolly also told me that I would call for her in my sleep.

            I was a mess.

            The day after she left, Jolly called her and she didn’t pick up, as expected, so he took my car keys and drove to her apartment. He knocked on her door three times before she let him in.             She looked as if she had just woken up, but her eyes told a different story. 

            Jolly didn’t tell her what was going on with me. Not needed, for she knew. She gave him some tea leaves and raw ginger that would help with the dry and itchy throat, but I didn’t take any of it. 

            One week after, Jolly was sure that she was not sleeping at all. He had been keeping an eye on her, visiting her every couple of days, trying to take her out and go to do some shopping, maybe go to the cinema while Jesse stayed with me to make sure I didn’t choke on a coughing fit, but Lia was tired and depressed. She wanted to stay home and take care of her plants. Her fridge was full of beer, and every time Jolly entered her apartment, he would find empty blisters everywhere. He drove her to her two therapy appointments and waited for her outside, worried that she would just throw a rock to the therapist window on the way out or something. At some point, Jolly told her off for being so reckless, for not looking after herself first. He told her he didn’t want to lose her friend, and she started crying. 

            Lia, in Jolly’s arms, told him she missed me, and that she was sorry for everything, but she didn’t want to see me. She didn’t know how to stop it all. She couldn’t go on with her day without taking pills, and the ones she had been prescribed to help her sleep were not working anymore. A couple of times, Jolly had taken all the bottles of alcohol away from her, much to her dismay and ignoring her tantrums. 

            Towards the end of the second week, Lia’s attitude seemed to change. She agreed on going out with Jolly and Folio to buy some stuff we were missing for the upcoming tour, and she managed to regain some focus and get some work done. She had always been super hard working. It was only during her breakdowns that she wouldn’t be able to get anything done. Jolly came home one morning after spending a couple of hours with her and Bryan. They’d gone out for breakfast and then followed Bryan to a Canon shop to get new lens and accessories for his cameras. 

I had started feeling better a few days prior, and when I woke up one morning and I didn’t feel any soreness in my throat and didn’t find any flowers on my bed and on the floor, I stood up abruptly, fucking worried. 

            “Jolly!”

            It was around eight in the morning, and Jolly was still asleep. I had to shout his name three times and knock on his door before he managed to get out of the bed. He looked exhausted, and me and Lia were to blame. He had been playing nurse for us and that was far from being his favorite game. Jesse appeared at the end of the hallway. He’d been up since earlier and got startled with my screams.

            “What’s going on?” He asked, looking at me with a furrowed brow. 

            Jolly was probably thankful that Jesse asked that question because he wasn’t sure he could speak yet. Half of him was still dreaming. 

            “Can any of you call Lia? You need to call her right now.”

            “Noah, she must be sleeping. It’s…” Jesse checked the watch on his wrist. “Ten to eight. What’s up?”

            “I’m fucking fine, that’s what happens. She’s either on her way here or… or…” I don’t know. Something worse. “Please, call her right now.”

            “Okay, dude, chill,” Jolly put a hand to my chest. His hair was a mess, and he hadn’t even opened his eyes fully yet. He looked like the dude with the wax mask from House of Wax.

            The house smelt like coffee. Jesse had probably been preparing it in the kitchen. 

            “Nothing has happened to Lia,” Jolly continued. “I was with her yesterday. She had her therapy appointment and later we went to KFC with Bryan and Jesse. She was fine, right?” He asked Jesse, who nodded. Jolly narrowed his eyes and used a hand to shade his eyes from the bright light in the corridor. “Can you put that light off? It’s fucking killing me, man.”

            Jesse switched off the light and told him to get back to bed. He would call Lia. 

            I followed him to the kitchen and ushered him to call before something happened. I had never recovered without Lia’s presence. I was afraid that something bad had happened this time.           Fucking Jesse made me wait until he made coffee. He put a hot mug in my hands and told me to sit down, but I didn’t. I waited with the steaming hot black coffee in my hands until I heard Lia’s soft voice on the other side of Jesse’s phone. 

            “Is everything alright?” He asked after greeting her with a cheerful ‘good morning, girly’.

            I tried to catch her words, but the sound was too faint, and the looks that Jesse was sending me didn’t help. 

            “Where are you?”

            I couldn’t hear her voice and my fingers were itching, desperate to grab Jesse’s phone and hear Lia’s morning voice on the other side of the line. 

            “Nothing. Mister Noah Sebastian here had a nightmare or something and got up very worried about you, as per usual.” Jesse laughed, but the sound faded too quickly, and I sensed something was wrong. “Lia?”

            She spoke again. I heard her tone getting louder for a couple of seconds, then it faded again.

            “You sure you’re alright?” Jesse asked one more time. 

            He nodded to the phone, as if Lia could see him.

            “Okay, I’ll see in you three days, yeah? Be good, and text us if you need anything. Bye.”

            I walked two steps closer to Jesse, leaving the coffee mug on the kitchen isle. 

            “What did she say?”

            “She said it’s the first night she’s been able to sleep properly, and I woke her up.” He tried to sound condescending. I wasn’t having any of it.

            “But she’s okay?”

            “She’s okay as she can be. She’s at home and she plans on spending the day working. She did sound a bit off when I told her you were worried, other than that, she’s doing well,” he opened his arms, a gesture to prove that my worry was unfounded. “She’ll be here in a few days to start sorting out the new merch and loading the trucks.”

            A wave of relief spread through my chest. I decided to take a sip from that coffee and give myself a break. From all the times I had texted Lia through those weeks, she had always given me plain answers, and it was obvious she was lying every time she told me she was okay. She asked about my condition a few times, too, but the conversation didn’t go further than a few “don’t forget to take your meds”, “keep drinking hot tea”, and “take care of yourself”, as if she was my fucking doctor and not my best friend.

            I decided to take a shower before breakfast, change my bedsheets, clean my room, and start prepping for tour. We were set to start off in less than two weeks, and it felt like everything was out of place. I had missed a few phone calls during the week, and I had loaded the boys with the work that I was supposed to manage. I had to check my voice, make sure that was in perfect condition. The new merch that Lia had ordered was meant to arrive anytime now, and she would have to go through it and do all the paperwork pending. 

            Before Nick and Folio arrived and we all sat down to discuss band stuff, I dropped in the armchair in my room, the one by the window where Lia used to read books and called grandma. 

            Her sweet old voice at the other end made me feel some kind of happiness that I only found in knowing she was still there with me, even though we had seas and oceans between us.    After grandpa died seven years ago, grandma decided to move back to Japan. She wanted to spend her old days there, in the house she grew up in, and given that by then Lia and I were already settled on our own, she was free to go. We visited her once a year, if money allowed us, and this year we were all scheduled to travel to Japan in a couple of months for a short tour of four shows. 

            “I’m sorry I didn’t call these past few days,” I started. My fingers softly scratched the fabric of the armrest, and I quickly noticed a black stain on it. Lia had been painting her nails there after finishing a compilation of stories by Angela Carter last week, and the remnants of her clumsiness were still there. “I was ill and…”

            “I know, dear.” 

            Of course she knew. She’d always had that sort of sixth sense, and I never understood how, or where it came from, but it was there. Grandma was a special kind.

            “How did…?” I started asking, nevertheless. 

            “It’s the flowers again, isn’t it?” She didn’t sound worried. It must have been the normalcy of my voice. 

            “Yeah, but I still don’t get it. I don’t get how you can…”

            “You were never a kid prone to get sick, except for when you used to go to the lake and be in the water for hours at the end of summer…” Grandma’s voice carried a subtle note of reproach, but it was more reminiscent of concern than criticism. She’d had to look after me whenever I got sick because I spent too many hours in the water, with Lia swimming around me. “For the last two years it seems this disease has set its sights on you.”

            Yeah, no joke. 

            “I’m okay now,” I reassured her. “The first four days were the worst, though.”

            I could picture her nodding very slowly, sat in her favorite rocking chair in her living room.   The smell of sandalwood all around her.

            It was her next question that took me by surprise.

            “So, is Lia there?” 

            Her tone implied that she knew more than she let on. She was aware of my condition from the very beginning, and she had her own theories. She once told Lia and me about that red string I found stuck in my bike’s pedal after the first time I met her, some random stuff about it being the string of fate or some similar bullshit. Neither of us had believed her story. We dismissed all of grandma’s beliefs and superstitions as whimsical tales, unaware of the deeper truths they held.      Yet, in this moment, grandma’s question carried a weight that hinted that she knew more about Lia and me that we ourselves knew… 

            “No,” I answered. 

            “No?”

            “That’s what’s so strange. I don’t understand,” I admitted. There was no point in hiding anything from that old lady. 

            Grandma went silent. The weight of it pressed upon me, and a sense of unease reached my bones. The room seemed to hold its breath. 

            “Grandma?”

            “Yes, Noah,” her voice was confident but soft. Her tone had gone neutral. I knew she was thinking. “It is indeed strange.”

            I could almost see the strokes of contemplation shaping her features; her frown, her wrinkles dancing as her expression shifted. 

            “You know,” I started saying after a few seconds that I spent looking through the window.   “You’re the only one that believed me when I said that whenever Lia was around the cough stopped. I know I barely believed you and those legends you used to tell us but… I can’t help to think maybe there’s something I’m missing. Whatever this is, there’s a difference this time, and I don’t know what it is. She’s not here. I haven’t seen her in more than eight days.”

            “What’s wrong, Noah?”

            She would know there’s something wrong even if I tried to hide it. She had seen us grow together, me and Lia. She knew our dynamic. She knew when we were upset, angry and disappointed with each other. The first time Lia and I had a real argument was when I told her I was dropping out of school. She felt betrayed and abandoned. She feared the years ahead that she would have to face on her own. She thought I was also going to leave town and leave her for once and for all. She was not used to people staying in her life, not for long anyway. I tried to reassure her that it wasn’t as bad as it seemed, but she was so angry that she ignored me for days, heartbroken, and as soon as I entered my grandparents’ house that evening, grandma knew something had happened between us.

            I let out a heavy sigh. 

            “Lia is going through something and… Things are complicated, grandma. I wish I could explain it to you. She’s in her apartment right now. The guys have been checking in on her. She’ll be fine, I guess.”

            “She’s strong, your Lia, that I know.” 

            My Lia. 

            “I’m trying my best, grandma.”

            “I know you are, darling. And there is, in fact, a reason why you’ve healed on your own.”

            “Why is that?” It was driving me insane. I knew something had changed but I still couldn’t put my finger on it. 

            A moment of hesitation lingered on the line before grandma spoke again. 

            “I’m not sure you want me to tell you over the phone…”

            I closed my eyes and pinched the bridge of my nose, fatigue tugging at my consciousness. 

            She sensed it. She knew I couldn’t probably deal with it now. 

            “We can talk about it when I travel to Tokyo in two months. That’d be better.” 

            I envisioned the city, a distant dream waiting patiently. Last time Lia and I had traveled there we had done it alone, without friends, and Lia had slept most of the flight with her head on my shoulder. Now, that felt like an opportunity that had slipped through my fingers. We had spent nights whispering to each other in my room in grandma’s house until grandma came to tell us to be quiet and Lia had had to retreat to the guest room. What I would give to have that right now and have the fucking courage to make things better. 

            “Right now… We have to get ready for the tour in the States.” 

            “I understand,” She went silent again, and I knew there was something else she wanted to say. “Noah, it’s a good sign that Lia is not there and that you’ve recovered.”

            “How is that a good sign?” I asked. 

            I wanted to scream that Lia should be here, that I fucking wanted her here.

            “That means she knows now.”

            “What does she know?” I hated it when she got so cryptic. It drove me crazy. She had been doing that more and more lately since I turned into a teenager and started questioning everything: the system, religion, friendships, love… “She doesn’t know,” I cut her off immediately. “She doesn’t know because Jolly told me he didn’t tell her.”

            She doesn’t know that I love her.

            “It’s not about your feelings,” she replied. I had never told her what I felt about Lia because I myself had been rejecting the sole idea. Grandma probably knew since before I even knew myself. 

            Now, it felt like the most normal thing to talk about, as if we had been talking about it for years when, in fact, it was the first time I was alluding to the fact that I loved my best friend beyond a platonic way. Grandma didn’t question it because she had known it hadn’t been like that for years. 

            “It’s about hers,” she finished.

            I slugged my shoulders, defeated, exhausted. 

            “Grandma, you’re going to have to be more specific. Otherwise, I’m going to get a headache that I definitely do not need right now.”

            “She’ll come around; you’ll see.”

            I prayed she would. I clung to those words and wished grandma well. I was eager to see her, eat her food, feel the comfort of her home in Japan, the scent of the incense she lighted up every evening, and spend teatime by her side listening to her childhood memories and all those myths she was such a believer in. 

            Lia and I saw each other again three days later. 

            Something had indeed changed, but only she knew what it was, and grandma, too, of course.  

[klm-zoflorr]

Incorrect quotes..... Parthogenesis

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

Eren: This revenge shit is very unrewarding it turns out. I have lost all my friends and am devoid of the sweet sweet burn of anger now that I've accomplished my goal. Everybody hates me. I'm not allowed less than 50 meters from a government building. Help.

Armin: I TOLD YOU SO!

Eren: Well, good for you!

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

Commander Magath: *driving down the road*

Hange, driving up the same road: *yelling out the window as she passes him* PIG!

Commander Magath: *yelling back at Hange* BITCH!

Commander Magath: *rounding next curb, he crashes into a hug pig in the middle of the road and dies*

Ymir Fritz, watching on: Ah, if men would just listen

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

Sasha: "sex" literally isn't real. "ohhh i just had sex" you "had" sex? where did it go? did it grow legs and run away?? idiot

Marcoco: Stop saying sex when what you mean is gender!!

Connie: I had gender with your mom

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

Mikasa: Are you sure this is legal?

Annie: Why, are you taping this?

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

Hange: God I do not like a single thing about you

Zeke: Tell me more

Hange: This isn't sexting

Zeke: It's better than sexting tbh

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

*Mikasa getting ready for her date with Eren*

Levi: Tell him if he breaks your heart, I'll nail gun his.

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

Eren: Your future self is talking shit about you right now.

Annie: Joke's on her. I'll ruin her fucking life.

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

Jean: Connie, Sasha! How could you possibly have gotten into this much trouble in one day?!

Connie: It... It didn't take us the whole day...

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

Hange: The bad news is you've lost a lot of blood

Sasha: What's the good news?

Hange: Well we've found most of it!

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

Grisha: *Calling the doctor* My wife is going into labor what do I do I have forgotten all of my medical training

Doctor on the other end of the call: Is this her first child?

Grisha: No this is her husband

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

Kuchel: You are so incredibly full of issues, you should do something about it! Go see a shrink, I don't know!

Kenny Ackerman: Oh yes!

Kenny: I've always been a big fan of head shrinking!

Kuchel: That's not-... That's not what it means...

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

Falco: Why is "dark" spelled with a K and not a C?

Zofia: Why not?

Falco: Because you can't "C" in the dark...

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

Kenny, at the therapist: Well, that is disappointing

Therapist: What is?

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

Levi, at Mikasa's funeral: I need a moment with her... Alone. Please.

Everyone: Of course. *They leave*

Levi, leaning over Mikasa′s coffin: Okay, listen here you little shit. I'm not fooled by your cadaver palor and unnatural stillness. I know you’re not dead.

Mikasa: Yeah, no shit.

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

Connie: Me and Annie, we get along fine in my beat up honda civic. We just don't have room to disagree.

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

Sasha: It's been hard not having Ymir around. I never thought I'd miss being waterboarded so much.

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

*Annie and Porco on their first day as coast guards*

Boss: 7 people died on your watch today

Annie, looking off into the distance: Yes but the coast is fine

Porco:

Boss:

Porco: They were all very mean and refused to tip. So, we just threw them back in the water.

Annie: Also you only found seven. We killed a lot more.

Porco: Yeah, but you didn't have to mention that tho

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

Therapist: Kenny, you have a problem verbalising your emotions

Kenny: Can't say I'm surprised

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

Hange: Love the train so much.... ...... I sit... ..... It goes........ ........ We arrive!!!!!

Connie: I understand that, but it still doesn't explain why we get to carry all the rails in 40 degree* weather while you sit in the shade and drink a monster energy on the rocks

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

Carla: Can I have a private talk with you?

Grisha: Sure, as long as it’s not about tampons, because I just don’t understand them.

Hannes, wearing tampons as earplugs: How? It's so obvious what they're used for!

Carla: I asked for a PRIVATE talk with him!

Grisha: Oh, you just can't separate me and Hannes. We're a package deal!

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

Eren: Don't you think you're being a little dramatic about me letting your cactus die?

Floch: Dramatic? Perhaps a little.

Floch: Now if you'll excuse me, I'm going to look out the window with a grimly satisfied expression.

Floch: I paid this skywriter a lot of money to write “Eren likes pineapple on pizza” in the clouds.

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

Levi: The sexual tension between me and self-destruction

Kenny: Nothing has sexual tension with you, kid

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

Eren: You can diffuse any situation by saying, "are we about to kiss, right now?"

Historia: Eren, not only is that completely false and a ridiculous concept, but it's also not appropriate at all, we are at your trial for global genocide for fuck's sake-

Eren, leaning towards her: Are we about to kiss, right now?

Historia:

Historia, beet red: Nevermind.

Gabi: Can we PLEASE find another judge for this?!

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

Jean: I've got a joke for you. What's "Ereh" short for?

Armin: What for?

Jean: He's got little legs

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

Annie: Im a lesbiab

Annie: Lesbiam

Annie: Less bien

Mikasa: Its okay take ur time

Annie: Girls

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

Mikasa: Annie and me buried the hatchet, figured you could try doing the same?

Ymir: I don't bury hatchets

Ymir: I sharpen them.

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

Eren: I don't like being an adult

Carla: Yup I told you

Eren: You remember how you told me you put me in this world and you can take me out?

Eren: Take me out.

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

Mikasa: So, you want to be the Sun in my life?

Jean: Yes.

Mikasa: Good, then stay 92,935,700 miles away from me

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

Mikasa: Eren, stop! This isn't you, you've gone mad with power!

Eren: Well of course I have.

Eren: Have you ever tried going mad without power?

Eren: It's boring.

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

Ymir: Before you embark on a journey of revenge, dig two graves. One for your foe, one for yourself.

Zeke: What a stupid fucking quote. I'm killing way more than two people idiot

Eren: Don't even bury them. Let them rot.

Zeke: Plus it's not like I'm gonna bury myself anyways? Why would I provide free cleaning labor like that

Eren: Maybe you're supposed to die in the grave?

Zeke: I'm not gonna dig myself a grave so someone can push me in and I can die as the biggest idiot that ever walked this Earth

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

Udo, watching Gabi: If you were religious, that would be straight-to-hell behavior...

Gabi, putting scorpions in Zeke's dresser after he called her a shitty little kid: I don't believe in heaven or hell, but I do believe in Revenge

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

Armin, about Eren: If karma doesn't hit you real quick, I fucking will.

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

Falco: You know how in greek myths the people that die tragically sometimes get placed among the stars by the gods?

Colt: Yeah?

Falco: Call that a constellation prize.

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

Sasha, taking care of Reiner after he got injured: It's okay Braus, stay calm, stay calm

Reiner: My name isn't Braus, it's Braun

Sasha: I know, I'm talking to myself.

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

*Pieck sliding $5 to the zookeeper*

Pieck: Maybe one of those penguins ends up in my car?

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

Historia: Fun fact: Blueberries are the only fruit named after a color

Armin: Starfruit

Historia: So close! That's a shape <33

Mikasa: Orange

Historia: Try again! <3 The color orange is named after the fruit.

Connie: Grape! "Gra" for gray! 🍇🤲😊

Historia:

Jean: You also forgot blackberries

Sasha: You idiot, black isn't a color.

Gabi: What about raspberries

Ymir: Green beans?

Falco: Lemons!! ♥️🥰☺️

Reiner: Wait aren't berries not fruit?

Historia: You all are so fucking stupid.

Zeke: What about dragon fruit

Historia: I am going to stone you

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

Mikasa: Are oranges named orange because oranges are orange or is orange called orange because oranges are orange?

Connie: Which came first, the orange or the orange?

Historia: Orange was first used to refer to the fruit 1280 years ago but was not used as a color until around 1000 years ago.

Eren: What was the color called before then?

Sasha: There was no color, duh! Everything was black and white!

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

Hitch: "I'm kind of in a weird mental place right now" I say, as if there are times when I am not in a weird mental place

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

Erwin, bleary eyed at 7am: Why are you opening all the windows?

Levi: We have to let air in

Erwin: But it's raining!

Levi: You're not made out of sugar, are you?!

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

*Eren getting into Mikasa's car*

Eren: Let's go

Mikasa: Uh... Uh... Hi? Nice to see you too?

*Armin getting into the backseat*

Armin: Wait, she's our Uber driver?

Mikasa: Uber driver? I thought we were going on a date, Eren!

Armin: I thought this was a guy's night out!

Eren: There's been a change of plans.

Mikasa: You could have just asked?? You didn't have to trick us?

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

Porco: I'm not a 🚩 i'm more like a ⚠️ cause I do warn you, you just don't be listening

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

Pieck: I'm not a 🚩 I'm a 🏁 cause you winnin' over there

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

Hange: I don’t know the first thing about fashion. Pretty much all I can do is look at something and tell you if it’s clothes or not. This titan? Not clothes.

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

*Thru the phone*

Erwin: Hey, I need your help, can you come back?

Hange: Uh, I can't, I'm buying clothes.

Erwin: Alright, well hurry up and come back to base.

Hange: I can't find them.

Erwin: What do you mean you can't find them?

Hange: I can't find them, there's only soup.

Erwin: What do you mean there's only soup?

Hange: It means there's only soup!

Erwin: Well then get out of the soup aisle!

Hange: Alright you don't have to shout at me!

*Silence*

Hange: There's more soup!

Erwin: What do you mean there's more soup?

Hange: There's just more soup!

Erwin: Go into the next aisle!

Hange: There's still soup!

Erwin: Where are you right now?

Hange: I'm at soup!

Erwin: What do you mean you're "at soup?"

Hange: I mean I'm at soup!

Erwin: What store are you in?

Hange: I'm at the soup store!

Erwin: Why are you buying clothes at the soup store?!

Hange: Fuck you!

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

Zeke: And then we'll be transported to the Paths dimension, and we'll meet Ymir Fritz, that's our long-dead ancestor...

Eren: I can barely tolerate the living, why would I want to commute with the dead?

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

Armin: Does necromancy only work on animals? What do you do if you accidentally necromancy a fence and then it starts growing branches?

Armin: WHAT DO YOU DO IF YOU NECROMANCY A BOTTLE OF SHAMPOO AND IT TURNS INTO AN ENTIRE PILE OF LIMES?

Armin: What if I accidentally necromancy a vaccine and then someone gets an armful of very live pathogen?

Armin: WHAT'S THE LIMIT ON DEADNESS? HOW RECENTLY DOES SOMETHING HAVE TO BE DEAD? COULD I NECROMANCY A DINOSAUR FOSSIL? WHAT IF I NECROMANCIED THE GROUND AND THEN DINOSAURS STARTED APPEARING?

Armin: WHAT IF I NECROMANCIED A LIMESTONE WALL AND IT JUST TURNED INTO A PILE OF MOLLUSCS? WHAT IF I MOLLUSCED A BUILDING? A MOUNTAIN?

Annie: Armin.

Annie: are u ok

Armin: NO

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

Colt's contributions to meetings: What about the impact on civilian populations? Do we have enough ammunition, provisions in storage to not rely on outside help?

Falco's contributions to meetings: Do you think stars have feelings?

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

Grisha: It's been ten year since my beloved son Zeke died...

Zeke: I was never your beloved son! And quit telling people I'm dead!

Grisha: Sometimes it feels like I can still hear his voice...

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

Historia: *wearing a shirt reading "cunt era"*

Eren: *wearing a shirt reading "I'm high as fuck and have a gun in my backpack"*

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

Grisha: The bad news is that you have a really rare disease

Rod Reiss: Oh, no. What's the good news?

Grisha: Well, you get to name it!

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

Eren: What's a good starter vice for someone who wants to get into ruining their life?

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

Gabi: Smarties

Yelena: Heroin and mass murder

Levi: You're both at very different ends of the spectrum yet I don't think either of you understood the question

Levi: The real answer is Erwin Smith

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

Zeke, getting up in the middle of a meeting: Pieck and I are not longer dating

Pieck: Zeke, that's a horrible way to tell people that we got married

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

Zeke: My mother and I spent some quality time together. Got our hands dirty.

Pieck: Gardening?

Zeke: Grave-digging.

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

Historia: Food trucks but instead of food, it's therapy and they're called automofeels

Rod Reiss: I know you're my last living descendant but with that kind of suggestions, I feel like I'd be better off picking a manged rat off the street

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

Floch: If I didn't know any better, I'd say you're impressed.

Yelena: But you do know better.

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

Eren: I wanna be a reverse tooth fairy where I rob people and then scatter human teeth on their bed

Sasha: a dentist

Eren: I don't know what your dentist is doing to you but I think you need to go to the police

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

*Pieck is coming back with McDonalds*

Zeke, reaching for his happy meal: Sorry, but there's no "we" in "fries"

Pieck: But there is an "I" *she steals all of his fries*

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

Jean: Well, if you're not at least a little bit gay for your friends, then what kind of friend are you?

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

Mikasa: The feminine urge to be ominous & terrifying...

Hange: Mood

Mikasa: You are like if a moth was wearing clown shoes.

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

Eren: A fun fact about me is i have never forgiven anyone for anything

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

Bertholt: Have you ever been told you can be a bit intimidating?

Annie: Yes, every day of my life since kindergarten.

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

Sasha: Being alive is great because there are so many different great vegetables you can sauté. But then there are also The Horrors

Falco: So true

Falco: Actually no. This is weird.

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

Uri Reiss: What is a sex drive where is the sex going does it even have a licence

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

Levi, to Erwin: You're gay because you like men

Levi: I'm gay because I hate women just a tiny bit more than I hate men. We are not the same.

Hange: Yaoi vs shounen

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

Annie: What’s it like being tall?

Historia: Is it nice?

Armin: Can you reach comfortably for the cupboards?

Reiner: I live in constant fear of the short people, who, in my experience, will climb four chairs, two boxes, a small coffee table, and six oddly placed stools to get what they want.

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

Eren: I don't know whether to bail you out, Mikasa, you've been in jail three times.

Zeke: Dad, Eren is cheating.

Grisha: Calm down, son.

Zeke: You are supporting him just because he bought you a hotel on Park Place

Eren: Someone has to take care of him in his old age? Who is going to do it but me? You?

Mikasa: *slyly knocks the Monopoly board off the table😼*

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

Reiner: Hey girl ive been yearning for you the normal amount

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

Grisha: Great. Here comes the woke mob to cancel me for killing and eating several people.

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

The 104th, Hange, Erwin, Levi, Grisha, Carla, Hannes wearing party hats, popping confetti cannons and cheering: HAPPY BIRTHDAY!

Eren: Uh. Thanks I guess?

Historia: You don't like being celebrated?

Eren: I prefer to be villified, my name invoking fear over a great cloud of darkness...

Carla: Muffins, Overlord?

Eren: Thamk you

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

Connie: I like you lets go to hell together

Sasha: Hell? More like HELL P!! Ahah

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

Rod Reiss: We need back-up with the military police!! Are you free?

Kenny: No actually, I am very expensive.

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

Connie: Since when are drapes flammable?

Historia: Since always, Connie! Drapes have ALWAYS BEEN FLAMMABLE!

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

Mikasa: I have yet to encounter a problem where a sword didn't factor into the solution at least in some way.

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

Parental figure: Don't go into the forest, it's full of lemon-stealing whores!

Teenage Hange: Ooh, spooky!

Teenhange: What specific parts of the woods are they in, so I can avoid them extra hard?

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

Reiner, in front of Sasha's grave: Rip i was always into you

Sasha, popping out from behind a tree: ? Worst confession ever

Reiner: You're not dead??

Reiner: I lied

Reiner: You are nothing to me

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

*Gabi and Falco looking over the bones of Rod Reiss*

Falco: What happened to him?

Historia: Ah well, he tried to outpizza the Hut

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

Falco: I heard it's supposed to rain

Colt: Oh, yeah? But look at this sun!

Zeke:

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

Pieck: Brr, getting a bit cold, uh?

Gabi: Yeah, it's supposed to rain later

Zeke:

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

*Zeke passing through next to Magath adressing the kids*

Commander Magath: We're not gonna do the lesson outside today, it's supposed to rain

Zeke:

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

Annie: Galliard, mind helping me set up the tables outside for my mind reading scam?

Porco: Don't start this now, it's supposed to rain this afternoon!

Zeke: I heard it's never going to rain again.

Porco: What is the fucking matter with you

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

Pieck: I decided I'm actually not gonna break up with you over your corny jokes, Porco convinced me otherwise.

Zeke: What a re-LEAF. I should get you flowers. I know it STEMS from a place of love, now our relationship can BURGEON out of bounds.

Pieck: I changed my mind.

Zeke: Ok, but Porco avocated for me?? Really?

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

Annie: Zeke? What was that message you sent me?

*Shows him the phone, with a garbled texting mess on it that reads as follows: pleusr bereing qi 2 auffce chabi goht pik 🏹. shi went hair glleiteur pin. kiuk houry aim worrded*

Zeke: "Please bring the key to the office back, Gabi is threatening Pieck at gunpoint, she wants her glitter pen back and I seem to be the only one worried about it."

Annie: I read serial killer diaries with better punctuation than this

Zeke: But do you have the keys?

Annie: No.

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

Annie: What about the bow emoji?

Zeke: They censored the gun on my phone

Annie: No, look there's the little water gun...

Zeke: It doesn't convey the urgency of the situation

Annie: Nothing in your message conveys the urgency of the situation since you need a degree in foreign languages to understand it

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

Commander Magath: Do you have any children?

Dina Fritz: Yes, I have one that's just under two.

Commander Magath: I know how many one is

Commander Magath: Is he big enough to man a cannon yet

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

Yelena: Blackmail is such an ugly word. I prefer extortion. The X makes it sound cool.

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

Reiner: Be myself?? The person who got me into this mess???

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

Ymir: Will I find a purpose?

Annie, posing as a fortune teller: No.

Ymir: u didn't do the thing with the cards

Annie: *flips one card, maintaining eye contact* No.

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

Pieck: *unbuttoning shirt* Oh my god, it's hot as hell in here.

Yelena: Yes, but why are you unbuttoning my shirt?

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

Connie: You into cars?

Ymir: Yes, it truly was a masterpiece of a film

Connie: No i mean are you a cars person

Ymir: I'm a human.

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

Connie: I tried making my own Red Bull with crushed up caffeine pills, twenty-one shots of expresso, carbonated licorice water and gummy vitamins. The doctor said I'm lucky to be alive.

Connie, 24 hours before: I can perceive twenty-three spatial dimensions and am fighting my own soul. I'm winning by the way.

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

Levi: i am at a loss for words to describe how absolutely stupid this plan was!

Sasha, narrating: Despite being at a loss for words, the Captain yelled at us for the next thirty minutes.

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

*Hange getting ready to go on an expedition in the titan forest*

Hange: If you hear me screaming bloody murder, there's a good chance I'm enjoying myself.

Levi: ...figured that one out

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

Mikasa, when Eren leaves for Zeke's side: You're leaving me? I'm coming with you.

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

Gabi: What's the difference between Reiner and a magnet?

Gabi: A magnet has a positive side!

Reiner: Ah-Ah. Very funny.

Falco: A magnet would have laughed at this quality joke!

Reiner: I wish I were an household item

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

Hange: You know, you look pretty fit yourself. What do you play?

Erwin: Anybody that gets close enough.

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

Mr. Xaver: I'm sorry Zeke, your dad was pronounced dead

Zeke: *tearing up*

Zeke: I've been pronouncing it wrong this whole time??!

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

Historia: I tried your "salad" thing today, and Ew. I only ate one of those red and white nasty apple things, and I couldn't handle it after.

Pieck: Radishes, Historia

Historia: Mini dirt apples

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

Kenny the Boomer, looking at his dead phone: How do we bring this thing back to life? Magic? Live sacrifice? I know a guy in town-

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

Floch, lovingly, to Eren: You inspire me to be so much worse

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

Floch, interviewing people: What do you want for Christmas?

Annie: Uhhh... for me to be alive

Levi: You know those microfibers cloths they have at big stores?

Historia: I just want Captain Levi to have a great time. Cause, he's been really really sad and angry lately. And you know, that's all I really need, more happiness in the world.

Connie: I'll say I want a big booty hoe, sitting on my face right now. Blrrr!

Sasha: Free weed!

Eren: Uhhhh.... World peace

Mikasa: Dick

Hange: *Pouring everyone a big glass of her special cocktail* Mental stabilityyyy baby!

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

Jean: I'd roast you, but my mom says you can't burn trash.

Jean: *moon-walks out of the room*

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

Annie: I'm not sure whose twisted idea it was to put hundreds of adolescents in underfunded dilapidated training camps, taught by people whose dreams were crushed years ago, but I admire the sadism.

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

Yelena: I've tried some eyeliner, thoughts?

Floch: Sorry but someone already has swag in this enimity and it's ME

Yelena: You? Cool? You are like if a moth was wearing clown shoes.

Floch: Where did you even hear that expression

Yelena: Idk

Floch: Well you look like you could stab someone with these anyways

Yelena: The clown shoes?

Floch: The eyeliner.

Yelena: That's the goal

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

Zeke organising a play about his life: Porco, I think you should play the role of my father.

Porco: I don't want to be your father??

Zeke: That's perfect, you already know your lines!

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

Marcel: I don’t know why I do the things I do. Never did. I’m a damn mystery to myself. It makes my existence... Exciting, you know. You never know what's gonna happen. Am I going to jail, am I getting a medal for bravery? Am I driving on the highway at three in the morning to ruin my life and everybody in this town's again??

Ymir: Are you gonna get caught, cooked and eaten by a random girl in the woods?? Who the hell knows.

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

*Porco, in his jock attire, yelling at the tv*

Bertholt: You're yelling like the players are actually gonna listen to you

Porco: You're in love with a girl who doesn't even know you exist

Bertholt:

Bertholt: Never talk to me again

*Bertholt goes to his room to try and glue back the shattered remains of his ego*

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

Historia: I think my dad never loved me.

Zeke: HA! Loser. I always KNEW my dad never loved me.

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

Sasha, leaving the Training Corps in s2 to go save her family: There I go side questing again!

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

Flight attendant: Is there a doctor on the plane?

Armin: Yes, but I'm not that kind of...

Flight attendant: The pilots are debating the merits of the terminologies of "the dark ages" vs. "late antiquity" vs. "the early middle ages".

Armin: Okay. I'm here.

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

Bertholt: Annie... I need to tell you something.

Annie: Alright?

Bertholt: You're hot then you're cold, you're yes then you're no, you're in and you're out, you're up then you're down, you're right when it's wrong, you... I guess what I want to say is you're incredible and I care about you. You're so good... At everything. I deeply admire you. I could get lost in the blue of your eyes, I feel like I'm flying when I look at you. Your hair is a golden crown, which you deserve because you are a queen. Your laugh is rare and dry like an oasis in the desert, it's the only thing in the world that can quench my thirst. What I'm trying to say is... I love you.

Annie: Alright.

Bertholt:

Annie: Thanks. You... Uh... You always fill a room with your presence... Like a stately sequoia tree.

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

Sasha: *sees a ghost* omg are you dead

Ghost Gabi: Of corpse

Ghost Gabi: The other ghosts said they'll beat my ass because of this joke. Grave mistake.

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

Levi: Oh yes, my uncle is out of town, said something about tying up loose ends?

Uri Reiss:

Kenny: *tying up the ends of a black bag filled with a dead body*

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

Falco: Is that a gun in your pocket or are you just happy to see me?

Gabi:

Gabi: I don't think you know what this sentence means

Gabi: But yes, it's a gun.

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

Connie: Are you alright?

Historia: I'm fine.

Connie: No, but really?

Historia: I mean yeah i carry around an immense sadness that destroys my will to live more and more everyday but like im fine

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

Erwin: I rarely find cocaine jokes funny.

Erwin: But occasionally, an one-liner makes me snort.

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

Annie: We have an issue. Most of your bleeding is internal.

Marcel: Well, isn't that good news?! That's where the blood is supposed to be anyways!

Pieck: I don't think it's in the benefit of humanity as a whole to try to save him...

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

Mikasa: I act as if I don't care if people dislike me. But deep down? I secretly enjoy it.

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

Yes, do believe good cop/bad cop is the essence of the MikAnnie dynamic

Yes, I know titans aren't supposed to leave bones behind. I'm gonna need you to get allll the way off my back about this!

Yes, I did watch the Wednesday series recently. It's a good show, innit? Full of punchy one-liners!

Yes, this end note is getting entirely too repetitive.

Yes, there's more?

*: 104° F for you eagle people

[dontmakemewake]

i got to speak about something that wasn't the weather, mom, but nobody believed me.

i have no idea who found me, or how they did, because it was so, so dark. they didn't give me their names, just pulled me from the rail and sat me down and called 911 while i cried. i'm pretty sure i stained whatever shirt they were wearing with ink. of fucking course.

i don't remember much, but they asked where it had come from. and, for once, i told the truth. because i'm an idiot, i guess.

of course none of them believed me. i can't believe i thought any of them would. i don't remember what exactly they said, but one of them asked me about drugs. i didn't bring up the weed, because obviously they were going to assume that i smoked too much, or got something that was laced, and i needed someone to believe me.

the doctors asked about it, too, but it's not like i could hide it from a drug test, so i told them. they asked if i was trying to take my life, and i didn't have an answer to give them. it wasn't a "no", though, so they kept me there.

i probably could have left after a few days, but they suggested i stay, and after that taste of what could have almost been understanding, i agreed.

withdrawals sucked. group therapy sucked. talking about the weather (or what i could experience of it during our 15 minute outings) sucked. sharing a room with a guy who snored the loudest i've ever heard sucked. not having my phone might have been the worst, though, because i had no way to reach out to him.

my psych appointments sucked the worst, though, because no, i'm not seeing stuff that isn't there. i'm not losing my hold on reality. in fact, without the weed, i felt more lucid than ever. and it sucked.

they kept suggesting medication. i let them give me something for my anxiety (mostly because i didn't have my weed), but i had to keep refusing anything else they wanted to give me, because i knew it wouldn't make a difference. those meds are only for getting rid of stuff that isn't there. i don't know how they could see the stains and tell me that it was all in my head.

and now i'm out. as soon as i stopped telling the truth, and started talking about shit that doesn't matter, talking about the weather, they were talking about how much i've "improved" and how "the meds must be working". honestly, i'm going to stop taking them. i haven't really noticed a difference, and the side effects are more annoying than the fear, and smoking works just as good when the panic hits. faster, too.

they gave me a bunch of numbers, for a therapy office and a few local psychiatrists. i haven't called them. i think i might have lost the discharge paperwork, actually. i guess it doesn't matter, because talking about my problems won't make them go away if nobody believes me.

after all, nobody you spoke to believed you, either. nobody i could speak to who could help would believe me. except for him, but he's not a therapist, and he has his own shit to deal with, and he's not even always around to talk to.

i guess it's back to talking about how hot it's been lately, or the humidity, or the wind, or the fog, or the rain.

i'm so fucking sick of talking about the weather, mamyte. so, so sick.

[gardenianoire]

I'm thinking of all the medical professionals that dedicate their careers to working with the poor I remember a few years back I went to urgent care because I thought I had the flu or covid or something (I didn't the doctor told me what I had but I forgot it's not super important to my point) but he suggested I take a few days off to recover and slow the risk of passing it on but then sighed and acknowledged that my job probably didn't off paid sick days and I probably wouldn't be able to afford to miss work. I remember the the brief relief in his eyes shen I told him I had a few sick days and could stay home. But this particular urgent care is one of the few in the city that can take same day appointments and walk ins for medicaid so I knew exactly what he meant because I've had to tell doctors I can't miss work and have gone in sick or injured because it was either that or not eat. I grew up watching my parents do the same. My dad had a stroke and didn't go to the hospital until after his shift ended because he had 30 years of going to work feeling like hell. Here's to the psychiatrist that looked me in the eyes and told me working 2 jobs was bad for mental health but then acknowledge if I could afford to quit I wouldn't have had 2 jobs. here's to the therapist that added 'low income' to my diagnosis chart. here's to the primary care doctor that suggested long walks in the park on nice days because it's free and then remembered it's over 110 in the shade in the summer and not a safe place to exercise and relax. here's social workers on the pysch ward visits relieved to find that I had a permanent home even if I can't always afford it on my own. here's the dentist hoping my wisdom teeth won't come into play because I can't afford the surgery. you're fighting a losing battle but we need you we need you

[valentijnsstuff]

This has been such a volatile week, this is mostly for myself to recount events but holy shit

Me almost making an attempt last sunday evening and then finding out there actually IS accessible help for my suicide issues after scrambling to find any for weeks

being able to sit and eat pizza on a busy terrace with a friend on monday

starting the tuesday with the most insanely tense session with two therapists where I could barely speak but HAD to tell them that they were just not helping, hanging out at a besties house to calm down, reaching out to my ex out of desperation, going to sleep in the haunted house

waking up wednesday feeling like shit and to a check in from my dad, who doesn't know what to say to my worsening depression, feeling sick and spiraling the rest of the day from medication side effects, to the point of not being able to eat and sleep and having to call a medical professional for a panic attack

Calling the docters office thursday morning because I felt so sick I wasn't sure I could drive myself to the doctors, being completely out and in an intense panic in front of a doctor that I don't quite trust, but miraculously being able to get a prescription for sleep medication, having my mental coach look at me with a very focused concerned face for a whole hour as I try to explain how bad the situation has gotten inbetween sobbing, her being actually helpful in telling me how to carry my pain, having a long conversation with a 113 professional when I come home, crying uncontrolably in a way I thought only children could, meeting up with my ex to ask him for help, having to sit and listen to him boast how good he is doing now he is finally making his own life choices, getting told by him 'count your blessings', having to sleep over at the besties house to calm down again after dragging myself through all that, gathering enough courage to cancel a date that I clearly couldn't go on in this state

Rushing home friday to have my sister come eat brunch, calling my ex to tell him that some of the things he said didn't sit right with me, bring my sister to her therapy meeting, get called by my ex that he wants an apology for hurting him before he considers helping me, being forced to have the conversation in what ways I was actually hurt by him in the middle of a busy street, having my intake for a suicidal prevention counseling right after, having a good time chilling out with my sister and going swimming with her and her bestie, not being able to focus on the swimming because of all the anger and hurt caused by my ex's treatment flooding back, being on the phone with him for an infuriating half hour, being told 'this is the last time we're talking', I could barely start to tell him what he did to make me as broken as I am, crying in the hallway of the swimmingpool, calling my friends to tell them I made the mistake of trying to trust my ex

Being in company of a bestie on saturday all day, driving 5 cities over to keep an eye on the expo there and being exhausted the whole time, slipping away to have a scream crying session in my car because of how much hurt my inner child still feels from the shit my ex pulled on me, finally being able to aknowledge how conditional his love was, having to stop by the haunted house with my bestie on the way back bc I left a roof window open, having to manage the water damage bc of said window, eating kfc in the parking lot absolutely knackered together, panic planning how to convert my car into a mini camper bc of how anxious I felt at going back to my house alone

Being able to go on a shopping tour to big stores with another bestie today, but having a meltdown at the busy restaurant, spiraling about how I will never be able to live in my home by myself because the weird cptsd that is connected to the place, my bestie inviting me over for sleepover to calm me down and help me trough another night

As I'm writing this I'm noticing so many patterns, I constantly need to be affirmed that there will be a way out of being alone, my medication is definitely starting to work and I can finally handle more situations, but the sleeping in my own home by myself is too triggering, I would rather sleep in my car in this point than be home by myself