#i swear my mental health has been better overall but. god

[sobsboy]

I'm not joking when I say everything going on in the US makes me want to kill myself

[weirwoodforest]

I’m almost halfway through with Bessel van der Kolk’s well-known book on trauma, The Body Keep The Score (Apple Books tells me I’m 42% done) and I’m taking a break from it for a bit and just wanted to write down some of my thoughts. I don’t really talk much about my own experiences here, just some of my thoughts on the book so far, but TW and CW for trauma (obviously), SA, CSA, child ab*se, inc*st, and mention of animal testing.

- I guess for every 1 (one) “nice” animal test, there are 4534858943834 horrific and unethical tests lol 🫠 (the “nice” test is scientists found out that the rat moms who lick their babies more in the 12 hours after their birth make their babies braver and cause them to have an overall better life experiences than rat moms who don’t lick their babies as much. Idk, I’m not a rodent person but I did think that was cute)

- On the subject of tests, I thought the test that van der Kolk and his colleagues did of the amount of women who had survived inc*st and had an autoimmune disease was so interesting. As an SA survivor myself, I know how we can tend to hate our bodies after the ab*se… I can only imagine that that hatred for your body is tenfold with inc*st. It makes sense that their body starts attacking itself then… I’m summarizing heavily but I thought it was a very interesting study. (Also the recent article by Sarah Zhang about people finding out they were the product of inc*st via ancestry sites is… I don’t really have words. The statistic that AT LEAST 1 out of 7000 people are born from close-relative inc*st is mind boggling. In my home town with a population of 192,366 people, that would be AT LEAST 27 people whose parents were parent and child, sibling and siblings, etc etc. I think about where I grew up, the shopping centers, the parks… that is a lot of people. Unfortunately it seems inc*st is a lot more common than we think, as van der Kolk points out…)

- I know hindsight is 20/20 and I’m in 2024 reading a book published in 2014 that details many cases and studies stretching back to the 70s but man… the lack of insight on childhood trauma these doctors had blows my mind. When van der Kolk talks about being at the Boston mental health center for kids and none of the doctors were interested in trauma but just slapped on labels like ODD, ADHD, etc and just pumped these kids full of medication I was just… wow. (And I say this as someone who is medicated for ADHD, I’m not trying to disparage medication). Of course van der Kolk and his colleagues found out all these kids had suffered horrific trauma. Also, the two and half year old he talked about being labeled as “oppositional” when the doctors later observed his mom actively neglecting him… god. Yeah!! Of COURSE that has nothing to do with his behavior /sarcasm. Also kids younger than 5 being prescribed seroquel is so ??? to me.

- van der Kolk’s criticism of the DSM was really eye-opening and like… I understand that yeah, maybe Developmental Trauma Disorder does appear somewhat niche, but kids and adults like myself with high “adverse childhood experiences” scores would benefit greatly from a diagnosis and treatment that is catered to their specific needs. I’ve been diagnosed and treated for PTSD and at times it does feel so broad. My PTSD is not the same as someone who experienced something like Hurricane Katrina or the Fukushima Disaster or someone who went to war. People kind of swear by the DSM and feel comforted by it, but after reading the criticism of it I honestly have become very critical of it myself.

I think… for now that’s it. There’s a lot of the book that I’ve read so far that I’m still ruminating over in my head, so I’m sure I will come back with more Thoughts… but for now, I’ll leave it here.

(Also if you’re interested, I have a digital copy I can send mutuals.)

[ezekieltobiasfletcher]

"Loneliness does not come from having no people around you, but from being unable to communicate the things that seem important to you."

— Carl Jung

Sonofabitch. It's true. Things are okay in my relationship with my partner, but I'm really working this year to not let my "-isms" overwhelm them. Living in our COVID bubble for a couple years exposed some ways how my anxiety/depression/adhd can put an undue burden on my partner, and I'm working my program to better handle that shit. Things with my "sister" (chosen family whose been in my life for a loooong time) have been complicated lately. While I know that if the chips were down, she'd be there for me in a heartbeat, but there's been a growing list of things that I can't talk about with her for the time being. If I push too much, she'll go radio silent, and that won't be good for either of us. It sucks, but this is just a period of time where she needs me more than I need her, and that's okay. I've had much healthier boundaries with her since I actually started working my program, and that did wonders for our relationship. Still... I've lost her as my everyday, random thoughts/fears/OMG-i-need-to-share-this-with-someone-or-I'm-a-gonna-explode, bestie. The only two other people I have after that are my sponsor, who has long since become a trusted friend, and my therapist, or as I have been jokingly referring to her as, my bi-weekly rent-a-friend. I can't shell out more $$$ for therapy, and while my sponsor is an awesome human being who I feel safe with telling my deepest thoughts to, he and I are just different enough that I don't see us doing more than having coffees and going for walks and bike rides. So, as my overall mental health continues to ebb and flow on an excruciatingly slow yet upward trajectory, I've been pouring my "loneliness" into Tumblr lately. It's a safe place for me since I don't share it with people IRL (like my other social media feeds except reddit), and frankly, Tumblr has always felt like a safer place for LGBTQ+ people, and people who have to work harder at their mental health that all the "normies" take for granted every day. (I swear to the gods, if one more normie gives me toxic positivity vibes, I may have to finally smash my happy-go-lucky mask once and for all and just let it rip. Okay... I'm still too much of a people pleaser to do that, yet. Fuck.) Frankly, I need to find another meeting or an Adult ADHD support group. Not that I can't say what I feel in my home meeting, but the group decided to keep it an electronic meeting after the mask mandates were lifted. I had last Friday off for Veteran's day, and my sponsor invited me to a meeting he goes to during the day. The topic was exactly what I needed, I shared from a depth of my heart that I haven't in a while (I didn't realize I was holding back subconsciously because I wasn't consciously aware that was fearful that someone in my house may overhear me even though I close the door during my e-meeting), and I talked with a person in the parking lot of the church after the meeting for almost as long as the meeting itself. I haven't done that since before COVID, and I haven't had that post-meeting pink cloud feeling in a long time. I guess I need an in-person meeting. So, where do I go from here? Well, I need to search. I am committing to myself that I will find a list of meetings/support groups, and start trying them after the holidays. I have way too much going on between work and the ramp up to the holidays. If I'm not careful, and I try to solve all my problems too soon, this motivation will blow up in my face. I'm not desperate. I am not alone. I'm only feeling a tinge of loneliness every now and then, but always at the worst time with a low mood. One step at a time, one day at time.

[theplaceformusings]

current thoughts about dating and relationships.

welcome.

first post. it's been a while since i have given myself an outlet to write from a personal and reflective lens. while i am deeply passionate about my job, my clinical and nerdy insights have become dominant, making it hard for me to write and reflect from the heart. 

my current circumstances are unlike any place i have been before. 

i am a 28-year-old psychologist, which i never thought i would say. i knew this was where i belonged, but i never believed i would get here. but now that i am here, i can genuinely say that this is what i was meant to do, and i know i can make an impact. 

i am single as fuck. and loving it. i've always craved connection and love and put so much emphasis on finding my person. i love love. i love giving love. i love being loved. 

but the reality of dating has been shocking. and the more i learn about men, the worse i feel about the future of relationships. as i write this, i am acutely aware that i sound "anti-men," and i promise this is not the case. but the reality of things is that the patriarchal structures we live in have resulted in a mass amount of challenges when it comes to dating. 

women have evolved (feminism and shit) to be powerful, successful, and aware of what they want/need in a partner. many of us are seeking partners to show up for us in connected and intimate ways. seems reasonable. but the sad reality of things is that we have raised the vast majority of men to internalize ideals about vulnerability, emotion, and connection that create so many obstacles to forming these kinds of relationships. simply put, i don't think that they often want and crave the same kinds of connection. and even if they do, there is often underlying aversion, discomfort, or shame associated with their own vulnerability, the concept of dependency and intimacy. the truth is that women are the more emotionally evolved gender (fully aware that gender is a complicated topic, but i am speaking strictly based on systemic influences, culture, socialization etc.) 

another realization i have had that has been quite uncomfortable is that i don't think the majority of men like women. like genuinely appreciating the nuances that we often carry. this emotional development that women are (generally speaking) more equipped with is something that men often look down on and think of in a negative light. i often hear (work and personally) men talking about women in reference to what they do for them and how easy it is for them to manage their relationship with these women. 

when a woman challenges a man to expand and grow in this emotional lens that they are often lacking, they can't hold space for it - because they don't value it the same way. 

and i don't want to sound like i am projecting a bunch of shit. i genuinely have read so much research and am coming from a place of logic, not emotion, i swear to god. and i feel like i have to defend this every time i bring it up because it gets associated with me hating on men and dating. but i genuinely love men and care about them so much. i want them to be able to expand and heal the parts of themselves that have been repressed because of the messages they receive about being a man. i think that if they can let down some of these defences and connect with themselves and other men in this way - the world would be a better place. statistically, how we socialize men hurts them and their mental health, leads to violence and crime, issues within relationships, and parenting difficulties, perpetuates generational trauma, influences political and justice systems, and stops overall collective healing and improvement. so i promise, i don't hate men and don't want this to feel like a criticism. to me, it just feels like looking at the reality of things and recognizing how where we are as a society and culture impacts the capacity for meaningful, loving relationships. it's just the way it is, and i really wish that sometimes i couldn't perceive things this deeply. 

the way i like to describe masculinity is that it is like a cage. men have been taught to devalue things that are outside of the scope of masculinity, like certain forms of intimacy and vulnerability. psychologically when they devalue it for themselves, it becomes something that they devalue in others. this is what i mean when i say that many men do not like women. because they have been socialized to consciously or unconsciously view certain things as weak or bad - it can be tough for these people to truly value these traits in their partner. and even if they struggle with it themselves or don't want to work towards something different - it would be nice if they could still find love and appreciation for those traits in others. instead of women being labelled as clingy, needy, emotional, sensitive, dramatic, bitchy etc. 

so i guess getting back to where i am at. 

i have had so many relationships with wonderful men and, generally, men that are more connected with their slowness and softness. as in not the most typical masculine macho men. yet every single relationship has failed because i couldn't get my emotional needs met. fully aware that maybe i am "expecting too much," but no matter how old i am or how much time passes - this continues to be a significant need for me. so i guess what i am struggling with is coming to the acceptance that i am not asking for too much. i am asking for what i genuinely need/value in a relationship. but, simultaneously, i may be asking for something that is far beyond the capacity of the majority. 

so this is where i have gotten into the mentality that it's out there somewhere but might take a fuckin long time to find. which is cool, and i am at peace with it. but i am exhausted and drained of dating and falling in love just to have the same issue pop up time and time again. i am tired of trying to find my needle in a haystack, if you will. 

knowing this, it's evident that part of my journey is reflecting on and being more intentional about the people i select. 

but i can't shake the frustration that i am sitting here, reflecting on my needs, growing to be a better partner, trying to be aware of how to find the right person, and building accountability and awareness

while the vast majority of men and just fucking vibing and not giving a fuck. 

it is exhausting to conceptualize the amount of emotional and mental labour/energy that i (and many other women) are spending trying to lay the groundwork to find, build, or maintain these deep and meaningful relationships. while men are just deeply uninvolved and disinterested in this process. consider how many women say they should just date other women (seriously and not). i think it speaks volumes to the problem that i am trying to describe. we just all want this thing that men are often so distant from being able to provide or work towards. 

so, here i am. happily single because, at this point, this solitude and inner peace are so much more appealing than trying to engage in this process that feels like a bit of a shit show.

anyways. later bitches.

[remindingpersephone]

Returning With Randomness

Good morning, my darlings. My Tumblr mini-break has resulted in me changing the way I utilize the blue hellsite. I'm putting all this babbling under a jump to keep your scrolling aesthetically pleasing.

14 days isn't much of a break, but I was testing out a theory. I felt like I was checking social media, or at least the 4 Biggies: Facebook, Tumblr, Twitter, Instagram, too frequently and in too automated a fashion. Got five minutes between tasks? Check Insta! Need a breather from spreadsheet madness? Log in to Twitter! And on and on. While it is always nice to check in with my mutuals, I would then get sidetracked and the next things I know I've lost 20 minutes to somebody's thread about SCOTUS or lunar eclipse or whatever. Not terrible, in and of itself, but when added to all the other noise and distraction in the world, it has become detrimental.

Life offline these days is busy and stressful. My job is good but hectic, so I have to stay focused and disciplined with my time and attention. Home life is difficult and I'll leave it at that because it involves other people who don't want their shit aired out online. So even if I wanted to read about the latest Kardashian drama (keep your mitts of Marilyn's dress, Kim!) I just don't have the time or the mental bandwidth.

Moreover, reading gossip and useless opinions just isn't good for my mental health. I'd argue it's not good for anyone's mental health, but I believe everyone has to the right to live their life any way they see fit, including but not limited to social media brainrot. You do you, baby.

Which brings me to my point (I have one, I swear): social media may have been an unfortunate mistake. Or at least, 75% of it. The 25% that allows us to meet each other, learn new things, talk to people around the world, share, connect, inspire, is awesome. A truly wonderful gift. But the other 75%: rampant disinformation, bullying, repeated ugliness, echo chamber effect - is an awfully high price to pay. Is it too high? I don't know. I think we need to recognize it now, acknowledge the problem it has become, and find a way to preserve the good and eliminate the bad. There has to be a way. Our society has done some amazing things. We have to find a way to keep trolls from ruining the world.

I think it was @hopefulmisanthrope who said a while back "Do we really need everyone's opinion?" in regards to social media's negative effect. I found myself repeating this sentiment a few days ago. I told someone "We don't need everyone's opinion, all the time."

I must clarify that there is a difference between using Twitter or Tumblr, etc. to express yourself, and using it to spread maliciousness. Use it to write something silly or sad or moving or beautiful. To just put something out into the universe. I wholeheartedly support this for everyone. Remember, a thing isn't free unless it's free for everyone. So follow your bliss and post your heart out if it brings you joy. God knows, I've posted about meaningless shit before, because it made me happy. I just posted on Twitter about wind, for fuck's sake. I'm not contributing to the overall betterment of society with my 479th Instagram picture of orchids. But neither am I harming it buy doing this. It's the thousand mile long thread of echoed hatred and ignorance that worries me. That's the shit we've got to stop. It is not a case of, "Well, who's to say what's hate and what's not?" We are. We all know the difference between what is evil and vicious and what is harmless. I want the people that scream freedom as a way to absolve themselves of responsibility for the things they say and do to shut their mouths. Adults know when they are protecting true freedom and when they are using it to mask discrimination and acrimony.

So, to get back to my original thought when I started writing this post a hundred years ago, is to say that I want to use Tumblr differently. I want to check in on my mutuals by going to their individual blogs. I want to write my own posts when I either have something to capture so I can refer back to it later, or because I want to share something. I don't want to start scrolling mindlessly, miss all the good stuff, while zoning out. So if I don't appear for a while and then suddenly heart bomb the hell out of you, this is why. And if I miss you and you wonder why, drop me a line. I do check messages to see if anyone is trying to reach me directly.

Everything is tumultuous (to put it mildly) in the world these days. I'm looking for ways to maintain equilibrium with my energy, attention, and output. I am responsible for what I allow myself to absorb, and what I put out into the universe. I want both of those to be good, healthy and helpful. So the learning and the adjusting and the analyzing and the changing and the growing never stops. Neither does my rambling, apparently. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

I love you, kittens. Take care of yourselves and be good to each other.

[asexualone]

(pls take the time to read)

Signs I should have known I was aro: Disney edition

I think this topic has been stressed a lot already. But here is my take, anyway.

Of course, romantic love had been, is and will always be one of the main themes in kids' movies. Why, I can never fully understand. I'll explain below how I like other themes more.

Some time ago, I did a post on the kiss/hug scenes in Rapunzel which depicts how much more I value acts of showing love that don't include kissing.

Not only those two. I have a history of hating Disney on-screen smooches. As a kid, I thought, "Well, maybe, I don't like seeing these characters kiss because it's a grownup thing."

Could you blame me? When my parents were in the room and a kissing scene appeared on the screen, they changed the channel. So my toddler brain concluded that the reason I didn't like watching kisses was because I wasn't of age to like it. Or something.

At the time, I had no idea that I was hand-picking my favorite movies by the level of romance they had in. Or lack thereof. And I was a very judgemental kid. Let's go through my original thoughts on some Disney classics.

Snow White — No. Just no. She's a child, fourteen. Marrying an older guy she doesn't even know. After he kisses her corpse. NO.

Cinderella — The age difference is a little better, I guess. So is the age of consent. But they only talked one (1) night and he relied on that slipper to find her instead of asking to meet all women and see for himself. Fairytale logic I guess. I didn't like how she called it love immediately and kissed the prince at least once that same night. Or how they got married immediately.

The Sleeping Beauty — Must I even explain? Aurora didn't even know Philip that much, had only met him once (if you exclude the "dreams"). And yet, he's her true love, the only one who can revive her corpse. Ridiculous. And yes, kissing a comatose body, ew. Also, the arranged marriage trope pisses me off, royalty or not. Aurora was engaged as a newborn baby, come on.

Mulan — Cinematic gold. I didn't know it back then, but the fact that romantic love is such a pushed-aside aspect in this movie gives me life. The songs give me life. Especially when the trio dresses as concubines and "Be a Man" plays in the background. An absolute gem, lmao. The sequel however ruined the story somewhat for me, too much lovey-dovey stuff. I like Mulan more when she's fighting than when she's acting all sappy towards Shang, sorry not sorry.

Peter Pan — Loved it, still do. But I did dislike the mermaids, the image of fangirls who are petty towards other girls. And Pan's brief "relationship" with Tiger Lily was nauseating to me. I couldn't explain it but when Pan blushed at her nose-nuzzling thing, I always pulled a face.

The Princess and the Frog — In my opinion, (remember, always my opinion): Tiana, this hard-working girl who doesn't belong to anyone, was lost to love. Well, not lost. But falling for Naveen in the course of three days? Unrealistic and kinda unnecessary. Sweet, but still. I adored the "relationship" between Ray and Evangeline more. Either way, it's a movie that I enjoyed when love wasn't that prominent on screen.

Aladdin — I love this movie because of the Genie. The relationship between Jasmine and Aladdin is meh. She forgot his face and didn't recognize him until later. Their coming together is a lot like that trope "first guy who treats her right sets the expectations and wins her heart". Usually that's a thing, not only in Disney movies but media in general. The female lead settles for the first guy that treats her right because the bar is that low. A good movie, all in all. Love how Jasmine stands up for herself at least. Not a lot of princesses fight against the objectification of women.

Pocahontas — I used to hate this movie. I didn't sit right with me: the racism in it, the manipulation, the murders. And the romance, yes. Pocahontas fell for the strange man who tickled her curiosity in the span of two days. I also hated how her father just sold her to marry Kocoum like that. I know it's tradition. Heck, that's a tradition that still goes on in my country. Maybe that's why I didn't like seeing it on screen. And Pocahontas doesn't even end up with John Smith. The second movie definitely ruined the story. So yes, she's the first princess who fell for a man in three days, TWICE. Needless to say, only the songs kept me from blacklisting the movie entirely.

The Little Mermaid — I actually loved this movie for some reason. I can't explain why, maybe it was my obsession with mermaids. Yeah, that was probably it. But I was pissed when Ariel exchanged her tail for legs. Not to mention human periods and overall, all the bad in the world, for a man she'd only seen once. As I grew up I realized just how f*cked up that story was: Ariel giving her entire lifestyle, family and identity up for a guy she hadn't even spoken to. I don't know why I loved that movie, alright? Hell I still do a little. The sequel too. Say what you want.

Brave — (I know this is technically Pixar, shut up) Much like the paradox with Ariel, I didn't like this movie. I can't explain it. Maybe because Merida wasn't the typical Disney princess I had been used to seeing. Now though, I ADORE that story. No, it's not because Merida knows archery... Okay, yes maybe a little. I love the aro-arrow word play, alright? Anyway, the way Merida fights against being shipped to a husband like the "tradition" I aforementioned asks her to, has always had my heart, even when I didn't like the movie. The focus on the mother-daughter relationship is special, I love it. Stellar movie.

Tangled — One of my favorite Disney movies, my favorite princess. But her relationship with Eugene.... Well. Again, three days. That's all it takes to fall in love. Classic of Disney. Not only that, but Eugene is literally the first man person Raps has ever since, besides Gothel. The bar is nonexistent for her, she would have fallen for anyone. He lied to her and she still... Well, I won't stress that any longer. Their relationship in the end is sweet, one of the few cases where we are actually shown that they would risk their lives to save each other. Respect that. Mostly, I love her magical hair and Pascal. And the guys of Snuggly Duckling.

Moana — EPIC MOVIE. The story, the culture, the character growth, the plot twist, everything! Loved it at first sight, at second and forever. Even more when I became aware that there's no romance in it. I don't think I need to say more.

Frozen — My opinions on this movie have always been changing, accompanied by mixed feelings. So the relationship between sisters was cute, but Lilo and Stitch made that more realistic. Anna's relationship with Hans, ugh. I think that for a long time I used the fact that he was the antagonist to justify my absolute hate for the way Anna "fell" for him in one evening. Again, Anna sweetheart. This is the first man you've met. The bar is nonexistent for you too. God bless Elsa for forbidding her to marry Hans. And while it's cute to think Elsa as a lesbian, she has aromantic vibes. Sorry not sorry, but she's also a God by the end of Frozen 2. Gods are beyond attraction, I said what I said.

Raya and the Last Dragon — Loved it, still do. Say what you will about "dragon Elsa". Sisu is her own character, and I adore her. And yes, I love the lack of romance in the movie. Make no mistake, I shipped Raya and Namaari from the first moment they smiled at each other. I swear on my name that I paused the movie and screamed, GAYYYY, at the top of my lungs. Luckily, I was home alone. If only Disney directors would do the right fcking thing and give me a queer main couple!! I swear I wouldn't mind the lovey-dovey romance one bit.

Of course, I've left dozens of movies out. This post is already way longer than I wanted it to be. But I think that was enough to make a point.

While I'm not romance-repulsed, seeing animated kisses (and unnecessary relationships) on screen makes me uncomfortable. As a child and as a grownup. It just doesn't sit right with me. Not to mention all these princesses who identify with their princes and specifically their relationships with said princes when they're perfect on their. Wreck it Ralph 2 made them a favor, I think, by making them work together and showing their strengths. Another movie I love.

Friendship just makes an overall better theme to apply to kids shows, my opinion. Family, work, self-discovery, mental health, happiness. These are all better themes to portray in media dedicated for children. Which is, again, my opinion.

And yes, Disney has been getting better. They've fixed the age difference and the age of consent. The female characters no longer depend on the male ones, at least not as often. They understand the assignment, alright. There are still many questionable things about Disney's reputation though, things we all choose to overlook for the sake of the good movies. But who knows? They might change. Hopefully soon we'll also have an obviously queer couple in a movie. Hope dies last.

[immaturityofthomasastruc]

IOTA Reviews: Guiltrip

So, my week has been hell. In addition to working night and day on final essays for my classes, I've been really busy at work lately, and the second COVID vaccine shot really took a lot out of me this week. And that's not even getting into the bureaucratic nonsense that comes with applying for the MTEL which is slowly making me wonder if I actually want to teach in the first place.

But, despite all that, there was a single light of hope this week that almost made it all worth it.

STAR WARS: THE BAD BATCH, BABY!

OH MY GOD, THIS SHOW IS AMAZING! I ALWAYS LOVED THE CLONE-CENTRIC EPISODES OF THE CLONE WARS, AND NOW WE GET AN ENTIRE SHOW ABOUT AN ELITE TEAM OF THEM? KICKASS! AND IT TAKES PLACE AFTER ORDER 66 WITH GRAND MOFF TARKIN AS THE MAIN VILLAIN? SWEET MOTHER OF GEORGE LUCAS, I CAN'T WAIT! I DON'T EVEN CARE THAT THEY TRADED IN THE COOL SNIPER CLONE FOR SOME LITTLE GIRL CLONE, I ALREADY WANT TO SEE MORE THAN THE TWO EPISODES WE GOT SO FAR! GOD, I LOVE THIS SHOW!

Oh yeah, there was also a new episode of Miraculous Ladybug that aired on the same day too, I guess. It was pretty good. Hell of a lot better than the past three episodes I've sat through.

Let's get into the fifth (chronologically the eleventh) episode of Miraculous Ladybug's fourth season: Guiltrip

We start off in the middle of class where we see Marinette looking at Adrien lovingly.

Because the writers are still trying to push the Love Square on us as if they were trying to sell us some death sticks. And yes, expect a few Star Wars jokes in this review. This episode did premiere on May 4th after all.

Rose suddenly gets a headache, and asks to go to the nurse, saying that “Miss Dora” is back. While walking there with Marinette, she explains that it's a code name she gives when her head hurts and can tell Miss Bustier without letting everyone know. She probably felt a name like “Maya Grain” would just give it away.

At lunch, Juleka gets a text that really upsets her, so Marinette tries to cheer her up. Keyword being “tries”.

Okay, yes, this is referencing the previous scene, where Rose refers to a certain snack at the nurse's office she eats to recover her health whenever “Miss Dora” visits called “Mr. Coffee”, but it's just bad timing. I get Marinette has a habit of not reading the room, but why did she have to use the term “Miss Dora” when she knows what it's being used for? Sure, she doesn't know that Juleka knows, but did she really have to say “Miss Dora”? She couldn't have used any other name instead? It's like making a chemotherapy joke when you just found out someone close to you has cancer. Even putting the context aside, what is this joke's punchline supposed to be? That “Miss Dora” will visit Juleka if she eats her lunch? Even by the humor standards of this show, the joke fails spectacularly.

Marinette bumps into Adrien, and although she stutters a little with a little exaggerated body movement, she does manage to take things seriously so she can have an actual conversation with Adrien about Juleka, who wants to be alone. She explains that the text she got was from Rose, who was sent to the hospital because of her sickness, and the entire class finds out because Marinette texted everyone to come to check on Juleka.

Goddamn it, Marinette. I usually defend you for getting screwed over by the writing, but you really aren't on your A game today.

Juleka explains that Rose got this sickness when she was little, which naturally worried everyone else. To make things worse, Juleka also says Rose made her swear to not tell anyone about her to worry her. Everyone else swears to not let Rose know that they know, and the act of support is actually enough to drive away an Akuma targeted at Juleka.

Unfortunately, nobody ever said anything about being overly affectionate to Rose, so everyone in the class tries to do things for Rose like carry her bags, giving her a pillow to sit on in school, helping her take notes, letting her cut in line at lunch, and giving her apples.

All of this makes Juleka remorsefully tell Rose that she told everyone else, which worries her because she hates all the special treatment, so she goes to tell them all about her illness. While they seem to accept her, the next time she sneezes, they overreact like, uh... how can I make this joke in a tasteful way?

Rose says she's had enough with all the treatment, which makes Juleka feel guilty. In the bathroom, she gets akumatized into Reflekta (yet again) with a Sentimonster named Guiltrip. And then Reflekta immediately gets sucked into the Sentimonster, which will cause it to go out of control. Nice job, Shadowmoth.

While it might not look like much, this is easily my favorite Sentimonster by far. Granted, that's not saying much, given all we've gotten so far for Sentimonsters is bootleg Mothra, sentient candy, a robotic doll, a frog with a body count, yet another evil doppelganger, and an eye, but my point still stands. Rather than actually confront the heroes, it's basically a portal to another world where it can trap people in bubbles that represent their regrets and despair, and turn them into copies of Reflekta.

It's a really strong metaphor which reminds me of the villains from Kamen Rider Wizard, who tried to drive their victims to despair in order to turn them into monsters. Ironically, that show's main villain is also some asshole in white who was risking countless lives just to save someone close to him. In general, the area inside of Guiltrip is visually stunning, and easily the highlight of the episode. It's just so surreal, and it really sets the tone the episode's going for.

Ladybug and Cat Noir arrive on the scene, and also get sucked into the portal, seeing some of the victims before they also start to fall into despair. And I can't believe I'm saying this, but this is one of the few times where Angstdrien Depreste is thematically appropriate. Cat Noir points out that if they had simply defeated Shadowmoth by now, none of this would be happening, which is a good point. He even attempts to kill himself using his Cataclysm, but unlike RWBY, they don't try to glorify it.

This also leads to Rose managing to fight off Guiltrip's powers with her optimistic personality (so I guess you could say she's A New Hope for the heroes), inspiring Ladybug to compliment Cat Noir. While I'd normally be pissed that this is yet another way to boost his ego, it does fit in with the episode's theme of positive thinking. Well, with the exception of one line where she points out what her time as Ladybug would be like without Cat Noir...

BEING A SUPERHERO IS NOT SUPPOSED TO BE FUN. Yes, there are certain benefits to being a superhero, but it is not a fun game you play when lives are on the line. Why are the writers so dedicated to validate Cat Noir's beliefs that being a hero is just a fun extracurricular activity? Has there ever been a superhero who shares a similar mentality and isn't treated like a complete jackass?

So Ladybug and Cat Noir break free of the bubbles, and after summoning her Lucky Charm, a pickaxe, Ladybug realizes she needs more positivity to break free from Guiltrip. As such, she pulls out the Pig Miraculous and gives it to Rose, who transforms into Pigella. Funny how she forgot her little headache condition when she bangs her head like a death metal singer while transforming.

The design is... wait, she's not wearing a skin-tight jumpsuit? She's actually wearing something different?

Yeah, I really like the Pigella design. There's a good mix of pink and white, and the skirt really brings the whole thing together. It really reflects Rose's optimistic and bubbly personality.

So the three heroes find Reflekta, who has been consumed by tons of bubbles. Pigella uses her superpower, Gift, to show Reflekta what her heart wants the most right now. So it's basically a more specific version of the Fox Miraculous? In fact, what do pigs have to do with optimism?

Whatever reason, it works, which helps Reflekta to break free of Guiltrip's influence, letting Ladybug de-evilize her. But because we need to have a fight scene in this episode, the Reflekta clones start to attack the heroes, but Ladybug uses the pickaxe to climb out of Guiltrip and purify the Amok.

So Rose hands the Pig Miraculous back to Ladybug, and the episode ends with everyone treating Rose normally in class, realizing she isn't as delicate as she thinks she is.

So yeah, I really like this episode. Aside from a few stupid things Marinette said this episode, I honestly don't have a lot of problems with the episode here.

I also really like the lesson this episode is going for. It doesn't shame Rose for rejecting the help, and it doesn't shame the class for being to overprotective of Rose either. It tries to find a middle ground, which is an important lesson to learn, not just for dealing with a loved one who has an illness, but for disabled people and other kinds of situations where someone has a disadvantage. Even as much as I ragged on Marinette for the text, it's clear that she isn't the only one to blame. In fact, nobody really gets blamed for anything this episode. It's more of a misunderstanding, and both sides find a balance on how to treat Rose.

It's overall a really good episode, and the second best one so far this season. And you know what? This episode taught me the importance of staying positive, so with that in mind, maybe I shouldn't be dreading “Queen Banana” when it comes out this week.

Wait, what? It got pushed back two weeks? Oh, THANK GOD! Now I feel like dancing. And I know exactly what song to dance to...

[hellonoblesky]

Happy Saturday it’s past 2am here’s Harbinger Angst. Because I’m up late and I’m havinggg thoughts.

So here’s my hcs about the Harbingers reacting to/dealing with the news of Signora‘s death :)

(CW For like. Mental breakdowns and guilt and general emotional instability because no one is having a good time here. Oh also cussing, anddd some familial angst in Childe’s bit? Also I am so sorry about any misspellings n whatever it is. Very late and I already have two other posts in my drafts collecting dust that are also HCs so.)

Dottore:

So if you don’t follow my art blog or haven’t seen my Harbinger hcs (which are under the process of some change with new info being released and whatnot), you don’t know this but I HC Dot and Signora to be like sorta just evil siblings

Now because death is such a commodity in Dot’s uh… specific line of work, he doesn’t register that Signora is dead until like two days after he hears the news

He picked up the phone (rotary perhaps?) to go call up Signora‘a office to see if she has any good gossip and then stopped halfway through dialing because it hit him that she’s never going to be there to pick up the phone on the other end. Ever.

He usually listens to music when he’s working but with the absence of Signora ranting he has to take up listening to the radio on top of the music

Problem is: the radio doesn’t have the same charm and cadence to it that Signora’s rants did, because normal people are boring and it’s going to drive Dot up the walls if he has to listen to one more commercial or one more anxious ramble about how cool and great the Fatui are from some stupid radio host trying not to overstep the Tasritsa’s favor like she listens to some boring ass radio station in her spare time!!!

HE HATES IT. But is forced to make do because if he shows weakness he will be torn apart (or so he thinks)

So this leads to him locking himself away in his office even more than he already did

Because he was already intrigued by the traveller after their actions in Mond and their victory against Childe, but them beating Signora in a duel before the Shogun? Oh now that kickstarted a whole new line of study

Especially because his only coping mechanisms are Be Destructive and Dive So Far Into Work You Don’t Think so within about three days he has a comprehensive analysis of everything he can possibly get his hands on regarding the Traveler (without interacting with other people) and is about to pass out because he hasn’t slept

Oh and the funeral was absolute hell for him.

Mainly because while he was barely conscious he agreed to play violin at the service and then promptly passed out and forgot about it so he woke up and was hit with the consequences of his own actions in the form of sheet notes

He endured, obviously, he’s not going to back down from playing something at the funeral of one of the few interesting people in the organization, that’s what tools and cowards do and this might be the Fatui but if he’d survived the wrath of dead gods he would make it through this

Went right back to locking himself away after that though

He actually got bad enough that the other Harbingers took notice of his state and MADE him come out of his labs and eat (mainly at demand of the Tsaritsa because she just lost the Crimson Witch as an asset, she wants the rest of her Harbingers in good health god dammit, the Traveler is becoming a genuine threat)

Broke down at dinner a week after the funeral

Swears that if any of the other Harbingers bring it up ever ever again he will kill their bodies and keep their consciousnesses trapped in a machine that he controls forevermore

Really he’s just glad that no one immediately pounced on one of his few shows of weakness

Maybe he’ll risk it again if it means he can cry it out for another hour but he wouldn’t dare say that out loud, won’t even finish the thought

But you know what he will do?

What he does best, of course

Look at an oddity in the world (in this case the traveller) and seek to pick it apart until he can put it back together without looking and still have it work

The only way he can actually get through his grieving is by finding something to take the edge off

And it just so happens that the traveller is a perfect candidate

Childe:

By no means has he ever liked Signora, in regards to personality or method, but her death still hit him

He had to travel back to Snezhnaya for the funeral, and it did absolutely cheer him up to see his family again and get to spoil them all silly, but with a mind whirling with thoughts it was genuinely hard for him to keep a smile up

Mainly thoughts about battle, because that’s really the only way he can interpret the world at this point

Like he keeps thinking about weather the Traveler was holding back with him, or if they had gained the strength to fight off yet another Fatui plot just in the month or so since Liyue? And if they had gained strength, how had they done it so fast? If they’d been holding back against him had he not shown himself to be a fighter worthy of their strength? Had Signora even faced the Traveler‘s full strength?

Overall his head is much too full of too many things, and it wears him out to the point that he ends up sleeping in late enough for his family to actually worry because usually he’s up before dawn training and they don’t see him until the afternoon

But he’s back on track as soon as he can, because the training helps him think, and once he can resolve most of his thoughts (or repress them so they don’t bother him too often) he’s absolutely alright and fine and ready to go! Totally. Fine. It’s fine.

The thoughts were very much There during the funeral, especially as the first harbinger read a (somewhat summarized version) of Signora’s life to the assembly of Fatui

(Oh and Pierro didn’t really care weather or not Signor wanted people to know her life after she died because she was dead now what was she going to do??)

The reveal that Signora had been fighting for the Fatui because her lover had been killed by the actions of the Anemo Archon, and she desired nothing more than to see him again… it got to Childe. It got to Childe more than he’d like to admit

Because suddenly the woman who he had always known as the embodiment of frostbite and frozen barbed wire fencing had someone she had cared about, genuinely cared about, to the point where she had become the Mondstadt legend, the Crimson Witch herself

And she had lost that lover to the actions of a fool of a God

He swore silently to himself that when the Tsaritsa‘s future came to pass he would make a little monument for Signora. Nothing big, probably a plaque on a nice stone where Mondstadt would have been before the Tsaritsa’s success, but a monument nonetheless

This promise was a spur of the moment thing, and later he would be like “Man she was a jerk, lost love or not why did I promise her that?“ but he doesn’t go back on promises

Besides, actually watching Dottore break down in a grief and sleep-depravation induced haze was also something that got to him because of course the two people he happened to simply Hate The Most in the organization were close that makes perfect sense but also wow it is weird to see Dottore cry and it feels Wrong because after murdering and tormenting so many people… Signora is gone and he breaks then??? What the fuck

Avoids most of the Harbingers after that, just heads home to Morepesok to spoil his siblings silly before going back to Liyue

Oh and his siblings can tell something is up, Teucer especially because when his brilliant big brother, the greatest toy salesman in all of Snezhnaya, is suddenly struggling to keep a smile even though they’re at home… he notices

Childe’s other siblings are all avoiding the subject, they heard about the death of Signora and all, they just assume the organization is going through it tight now and frankly most of them are a little afraid of him weather they‘ll admit it or not

Not Teucer though, he’s confused just because he still has grasped how Snezhnaya works yet, so he goes ahead and asks anyway

Childe just says he’s sad because he has to leave again so soon! And he hasn’t even been able to take Teucer fishing this time, isn’t that sad?

Teucer can tell that he’s lying

But Teucer is also beginning to sense the danger that lies behind Childe’s eyes, so for the first time? He doesn’t push it or say that they could go fishing now if they hurry

Just a grin and a “Next time!! Promise?” Makes it all better and he doesn’t have to think about why his big brother feels unnerving to look at sometimes

Childe is oblivious to Teucer’s growing awareness

He heads back to Liyue and makes himself focus on work

Scaramouch:

Now he didn’t particularly like Signora either, and didn’t really care about her life’s story, because blah blah blah we get it lady you lost someone, we all did, cry about it or whatever

But he does feel… he feels guilty for leaving her to face the Shogun

He had the Gnosis, he had finished Signora’s mission for her without even meaning to, and he had thought it would be funny to just let her face the Shogun without knowing that

To some extent, it’s his fault she’s dead

And it’s not the fact that she died because he didn’t go get her that weighs on him, it’s that he left her to the Shogun of all things

I don’t know if puppets like Scara can feel things like people and such do, but considering how the Shogun expressed frustration and stress when Ei disabled the majority of her functions, I’m going to assume they can

And because of the meddling of ‘some eccentric scientists’ his emotions are probably toned down a tad but he can still feel guilt all the same

And leaving Signora to the Shogun makes him feel guilty because he and the Shogun are essentially kin

Disowned and disavowed kin, but you know

He may have been able to easily counter the Shogun, or even help Signora prevail in her duel, but he. Ran. Off.

He happens to think that that was very cowardly of him

It causes a spike in his aggression which everyone unfortunately has to notice every time he walks by because the sheer static electricity that snaps in the air when he’s in the room now? Haha. Ouchie

Fun fact: he has no idea how to cope with guilt

He channels ALL of it into SHEER RAGE

Ever seen a couple hundred year old man go absolutely apeshit in the Harbinger‘s shared training arena? Well now you have!! It’s not a pretty sight!!

He’s crying and can’t tell why, which fuels his anger, which fuels stress as a fun side effect which just makes more tears and now he has to snap someone in half because he needs it to stop he hates it here he hates it here he hates it here

And in the beginning the guilt wasn’t even that severe for him, it was just so immensely magnified by his lack of coping skills that he very nearly broke himself down

He tried going to Dottore to get it disabled but Dottore had his doors all locked so Scara couldn’t even get a word through to him

Oh and the funeral was fine with him he just left early because he didn’t want to deal with looking people in the eye at the time because, again, his lack of coping skills with guilt magnified the whole feeling so it was almost unbearable

It’s a lot of fighting and breaking things before he’s able to resign himself to some semblance of how he was

[missyoumaybank]

I lost a friend

Law of acceptance- I lost  A friend p1.

Not my gif^

Word count- 1.6k

Warnings- mentions of panic attacks, swearing, overall angst

JJ Maybank x Routledge reader!

Ever since John B and Sarah disappeared In the storm, things haven’t been the same for the pogues. They’d still hangout every day and hope that the pair would give some sort of sign or clues that they were still alive, but amongst all the drama circulating with ward and the young teens, things started to fall apart quite easily. It was like a disaster waiting to happen.  

JJ went rogue, his current ways heightening to a point beyond belief. Every second day, you’d be down in the station bailing him out for something stupid. ‘’C’mon, it wasn’t even that bad!’’ He’d say pleadingly, trying to coax you into feeling guilty for him, and you did, every single time. Along the way, your friendship with jj began to fall apart, constantly arguing and avoiding each other when possible, rather than sorting things out. It was getting unbearable and you hated it. The chateau was currently occupied by you and JJ, refusing to go back to his fathers after taking the phantom.

   Although you and J were only friends, there was unacknowledged feelings for one another, you felt a need to care for him and he cared for you more than anything else. It was always you and J against the world. There had been moments between you, such as your firsts, first kiss, first time etc, and some out of the blue moments. It confused you, you didn’t know what you were but every time you asked, it was always ‘’Best friends’’.  John B had encouraged you to shoot your shot, despite jj being your brothers bestfriend.

It was late in the evening, the sun beginning to set and you began getting nervous, taking note of the time and jj still wasn’t back from work. Agonizingly, you sat out on the porch with a blanket wrapped around you, fidgeting at the feeling of the scratchy material.

You didn’t mean to pry, but when you saw jj come home from work with a black eye, and dozens of cuts, questions flew around ‘’Can you please stop being up my ass for 2 seconds? Literally, its like you’ve nothing better to be doing other than being a bitch’’ He huffed, wanting to just shower and sleep, slamming the door behind him. As you stood there in shock, you decided not to follow, settling yourself in the hammocks instead. Tears pooled in your eyes, your heart breaking by the second.  You wanted the old jj to come back , but unless John B came back, there was no way in hell that was happening anytime soon.  

JJ was cursing himself, knowing you hated being called out for caring about others, suffering enough as you grew up with constant worry that one day she might lose someone she loves. She worried too much about others rather than herself and jj would constantly remind her to be selfish once in a while, but she never listened.

In your sleepy state, you felt jj climb in the hammock with you, quiet sniffles coming from the blonde boy. Turning to face him, you saw his blotched face, tears glistening against his skin. You wiped under his eyes, clearing away the tears. Wrapping an arm around him, his face rested in the crook of your neck, cuddling into your side.

‘’Im sorry’’ he mumbled quietly, playing with the string from your top. Nodding without saying anything, you covered the blanket over the two of you and kissed his forehead, soft snores coming from him in an instant.

 As the summer came to an end, one last kegger was thrown and it was deemed to be the best one yet. The gang sat around the fire pit, basking in the ocean breeze and the atmosphere they wouldn’t see until next summer. There were a bunch of kooks who surprisingly weren’t causing any trouble and the last of the remaining tourons as the season came to an end.

J was acting weird with you, not like it was much of a surprise, but none the less , it made you feel uncomfortable. You couldn’t bare his behaviour and outbursts anymore, it took a huge toll on your mental health, but as always, you put JJ and the others before yourself. Kie snapped her fingers in front of you, breaking your train of though. She looked at you with a questionable expression , indirectly asking if you were okay. You nodded at her, but it was a lie. Panic began building up inside of you and you didn’t know what was causing it. JJ gave you a glare, seeing your leg fidgeting and it seemed to annoy him, just like everything seems to nowadays. He knew what was happening but he didn’t seem to give a damn, just as your breath hitched.

You didn’t want to cause a scene in front of the others and you grabbed the person that was closest to you, which happened to be Pope , while you began breathing eratically, feeling as if you couldn’t breathe. Pope was confused as to why you were reacting this way and kept asking what was wrong, but you couldn’t hear him.

For sure, you knew you were having a panic attack, but again you didn’t want pope to worry. ‘’I’m fine nevermind, go back its fine’’ you stuttered, not grasping the feeling in your hands. He sat down beside you, and grabbed your hand, starting to tap his finger tips on yours. As you started to calm down, your breathing regulated itself. ‘’It helps me calm down when I have panic attacks’’ he said sympathetically, wishing everyones pain would disappear. Looking up at him, seeing the sad look on his face, you sobbed and broke down.

The sobbing continued, feeling like the whole world was crumbling around you and awaiting the impact. Pope embraced you, trying to calm you again before getting worked up all over again. Without paying attention to what was going on around you, jj stumbled up to the pair and felt a burning pit in his stomach, seeing you in popes arms.

In that time, jj stormed up and had swung at pope, clearly not in the right head space .’’What the fuck jj? He exclaimed, pushing him, which led to them throwing digs at each other.  ‘’Why are you so loved up around my girl?’’ he slurred, putting extra emphasis on ‘my girl’

You scoffed at his words, him turning to look at you with a narrowed expression.

‘’Your girl?

He nodded at you as if you had said the dumbest thing in the world. Shaking your head, you moved closer to him. ‘’Why are you making ‘your girl’ feel so shit then? ‘’ she pried, finally done with his attitude. He laughed tauntingly. ‘’I’m making you feel shit? Have you seen the way you’ve been treating me y/n?’’

She couldn’t believe the boy in front of her, accusing her of making him feel terrible. ‘’Have you stopped and maybe think for a minute jj, that everything is going to shit because of you?’’ she inquired, genuinely intrigued by what he has to say.  He didn’t answer, but you kept pressing at him, wanting him to own up to his shit.

‘’Fuck you little routledge! It should’ve been you on that boat instead of John B!’’ He screamed, his blood boiling with hatred for the girl he loved.

Everything was quiet, the music was off and a circle had surrounded the 3 of you. JJ’s chest heaved, out of breath from his remark. You looked at him with pure disgust and tears blurring your vision.

‘’I hate you Jesse Jameson Maybank!’’ You roared, rushing towards him to slap him. Kie had grabbed you at your waist, preventing you from making a bigger mistake that you’d regret.

‘’And I fucking hate you too little routledge!’’ Jj smirked, getting the reaction from you that he had expected. Although he had said all that, he didn’t mean it. He did it to protect you.

 The morning after last night’s events, y/n was wallowing in a state of depression, spiralling out of control. She loved jj but by god did she hate him also. She wanted nothing more to be wrapped in his arms, but after that, she doesn’t think she ever would be again.  A loud knock on the door disrupted her thoughts. She pushed herself out of bed to go to the patio door. Immediately, seeing who it was, she turned around not wanting to see him.

‘’Y/n, please im sorry!’’ He pleaded, his voice cracking.

‘’That was the last straw jj, im sick of it and im sick of you’’ she stated, not looking at him. He sighed, running a hand through his hair. ‘’Can I make it up to you somehow?’’ he muttered, knowing full well he could never make it up to her.

‘’The best thing that you could do for me right now is to never speak to me again’’ vocalizing the harsh reality, she felt bad, but she needed to.  His mouth widened in shock, not believing her words.

‘’but what about us? You know? The infamous blondies?’’ His voice wavering at the thought of losing you. He couldn’t believe he was losing you that easy, like a set of keys.

‘’I can’t do this anymore j’’ she cried, wanting things to go back to the way they were at the start of summer. He fidgeted in his spot, not knowing what to do.  ‘’Where am I meant to go?’’ whispering quietly, looking up at you. You could feel the guilt build up but you couldn’t stand down.

‘’I’m sure Ms.Lana would love the company’’

He looked at you, looking for any sign for him to stay, while he saw the pleading look in your eyes for him to stay, he knew he had to do the right thing.

‘’I guess this is it then’’

‘’Bye jj’’.

Taglist!-

@afterglowsb-tch13​ @tomfreakinghollandneedsaoscar​ @lavendersunflower​

 this chapter is a mess im sorry

[hazirah]

13.07.2021, Tuesday.

It's been a year since my last blog so I just wanted to update a little on what has been going on with my life I guess.

Let's start with how have I been doing with my academic studies. I struggled a lot in my final year. There were a lot of challenges that I had to face, from not having transportation to interview my participants to not being able to talk due to social anxiety to the very bad mental health. I have been asked multiple times by the university officials if I wanted to defer/extend a semester or drop out. Fun fact, due to feeling overwhelmed, I have emailed my Professor without thinking that I am dropping out of the uni, hence how the uni's officials involved in my academic situation. I did not attend most of the classes, only two-three classes throughout the semester, I did not submit some of my assignments and even when I submitted, it was past the due date. Overall, it was just dreadful. For my final year project (thesis), we were given 8 months to finish it off, starting from August last year and submission was on May 1st this year. Guess what? due to the issues I was dealing with, and the anxiety of being a failure to everyone, I finally with force, had the motivation to start doing something just one week before the submission date. So yes, I interviewed, did analysis and did my 10K words thesis in just less one week. Now that my final year has ended, results are out and I couldn't be more blessed. I got a B+ for my last minute thesis, and I am actually graduating from Uni!

As for my health overall, it has been very bad. I have been going in and out of the hospital so many times especially this year due to being sick from stress. I had to be admitted overnight multiple times due to fatigue, dehydrated and insomnia all because of stress (and other mental health issues). I have also frequently going back to SH and binge-eating as ways to cope, and it has been getting worse as days goes by. I am also struggling with constant intrusive thoughts and anxiety that I have no control over which keeps me awake at night. But, I am currently trying to better myself by trying new things (this is very difficult to do because of my social anxiety). My friends have brought me to a couple of "talks" or "seminars" on things that are beneficial for our future (e.g. talks on savings; being resilient). I still have a long way to go. I keep coming back to my old habits and drown myself in negativity, but I swear to God, I am trying my best. Besides, I too, for once want to know what it feels like to be okay and happy.

[anotheronechicagobog]

Connor Rhodes x Reader Motherfucking Done

requested prompt:  Hey!😊 Could you write an imagine with Connor Rhodes, like the reader is a doctor, and he is jealous of her friendship with Will? Cute ending maybe. Thank you so much

written by: @anotheronechicagobog​

warnings: swearing, pregnancy complications, this is shit, I’ll probably redo it later, but I’m so tired and stressed, oh and Cornelius Rhodes murdered his wife and no one can tell me otherwise

You and Connor returned to the U.S. as fast as you could. Connor more anxious than you, but then again, he had reason to. Two weeks ago you and your husband were at a party thrown by one of his patients at his penthouse. His massive, over the top, Fast and Furious 7 penthouse. It was three stories with a balcony with a pool. You and Connor always felt out of place at these parties, not even Connor had grown up around such extravagant wealth. But you made do, it was part of doctor-patient culture apparently, so you went. You hadn’t been feeling all that well, nauseous and with a skull-splitting headache. Connor had gotten another email from his sister, so you didn’t want to stress him out more than he already was. You and Connor had mostly stuck to the shade of the indoors, but eventually, you both had to go outside. Connor went to socialize with the host while you went to the third floor to the balcony that hung over the pool. There was a bar there, but you weren’t interested in alcohol. You didn’t think you could stomach it, but you hadn’t been able to stomach anything lately. You’d just sat at a table with a large umbrella and ordered a water.

You’d started feeling dizzy, the heat was suddenly beyond unbearable. You started panting and you knew that stressed out or not, you needed to tell Connor what was going on and leave. Something was very, very wrong. You turned in your seat, waving trying to get his attention. You leaned against the railing while still sitting down and he didn’t notice again. So and flimsy, shaking legs you stood up, clutching the railing. Sweat was pouring down your face and neck, it became so much more difficult to breathe, you were about to try yelling his name over the blaring music when, in a matter of seconds, you felt like you were going to faint, your entire body went limp, and you fell unconscious.

When you woke up you were, not only in a hospital, but the one you worked at. Connor, who was clutching your hand and praying in Hebrew noticed you stirring. “Y/N, sweetheart? Oh thank heavens, how are you feeling?”

“Groggy. What happened?”

“You fell off of the balcony at the top on the penthouse, three stories into the pool. Why didn’t you tell me you weren’t feeling well?”

“It wasn’t bad when we left for the party, for most of the time we were there even. It was just at the end, I tried to wave at you, but looking back on it I probably should have just gotten one of the waiters to get you. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry. Please don’t be. The, uh, the doctors found out what was wrong though.”

“Really? What? Oh please tell me it’s not cancer, you know I’ve got a family history of that.”

“No, you don’t have cancer. You, uh... You’re pregnant.”

“I’m pregnant? Like with a baby?”

“Yeah, heat just doesn’t agree with some women and pregnancy though, so we need to move.”

“I’m pregnant.”

“Yeah, you are... We’re going to be parents.”

“We’re going to be parents.” The dam finally broke and happy tears flooded your face. Connor joined you seconds after, but his tears were a combination of joy and relief, after all, he did watch you fall three stories into a pool.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

You and Will had gone to med school in New York together. You’d been fair acquaintances, but he was a bit too cocky and you were a bit too serious. You both decided to have two specialties, the one you shared was emergency department medicine. You became Facebook friends, but that was about it. Truthfully, you didn’t think you’d see him in person again unless there was a reunion. So you were a bit surprised when you ran into him on your way to your OB appointment. “Y/N? It’s been a while, how are you?”

“I’m doing great. Really, really great, actually. I didn’t know that you came back to Chicago, though. When we were in school you always said you’d never come back.”

“Things changed. Congrats, by the way,” Will gestured to your obviously pregnant belly, “how far along are you? How are the symptoms?”

“Five months. Uh, the symptoms have been really bad. And I’m just on my way to an appointment though so I should get going. But maybe we could get dinner sometime, I’d love for my husband to meet you so that he’ll finally believe all the crazy med school stories I have thanks to you. He works here too, actually.” You weren’t kidding, pregnancy had taken a huge toll on you. You had wretched morning sickness, high blood pressure, gestational diabetes, and a pregnancy-related iron deficiency. It was a quick walk from the entrance to the elevator to the OB ward, so you thought you’d be fine, but you were starting to feel weak and Will noticed. “Hey, are you okay?”

“I need to sit down.” Will whipped around and grabbed a wheelchair for you, helping you to get in. “What’s wrong do I need to call your doctor or husband?”

“Honestly, I already feel better, but would you mind taking me to OB or getting someone else who can? This has just been a difficult pregnancy overall, so feeling faint really isn’t unusual for me.”

“Yeah, I’ll take you, don’t worry.”

“Thanks, I’m just gonna text Connor and let him know, he was going to try to meet me there if he can get away from work for a minute.”

“You don’t happen to mean Connor Rhodes, do you?”

“I do, why?”

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

You found out why when Connor burst through the doors just after you and Will had entered. He kissed you on your forehead and gave you a once over. “Y/N, are you okay?”

“Connor, I’m okay. I just started feeling weak so Will got me a wheelchair. I think that I was just on my feet too long, well too long while pregnant. I really hate that I can’t do what I used to be able to...”

“I know, but you should have just gotten help at the door, here let’s go talk to Dr. Hajjar. Thanks, Halstead, I’ve got it from here.”

“Are you sure about that?”

“Excuse me?”

“Will!”

“You heard me, Rhodes, why didn’t you meet her at the car or entrance? You can’t really think you’re too important to help your pregnant wife.”

“Will that’s not-”

“That’s enough Halstead, you should get back to the ED, where your obnoxious presence is actually required.”

“Okay, that’s more than enough jabs from both of you. Will, thank you for helping me get here after I tried to get here myself when I probably shouldn’t have, Connor, I’m sorry for being so stubborn and I’m glad you had time today to come to another of my appointments which are happening more and more frequently.”

Will and Connor begrudgingly nodded at each other. “Thanks for getting her here safe Halstead.”

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

You decided to hold off on dinner together after seeing how little they got along. Having only realized at that first meeting that the ‘doctor douche’ your husband ranted about so much was your friend from med school. So instead you did what you could to keep the peace whenever you were in the hospital, which was frequent, but their pissing contest was grating on your nerves. It all came to a head the day you went into labour two weeks early. Connor was finishing up a surgery with Dr. Downey so Will was the one in the ED when you were rolled in. “Get Connor, Will.”

“Are you sure Y/N?”

“YES I’M SURE!”

Connor came running into treatment four minutes later and gently kissed you all over your face. “I’m here, Y/N. I love you so much.” Will, who had been holding your hand while you waited for Connor, scoffed.

“ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME WILLIAM?! I AM SO OVER THIS SHITTING CONTEST YOU HAVE WITH CONNOR. YOU ARE BOTH GROWN-ASS MEN GET OVER YOURSELVES. YOU ARE BOTH GOING TO APOLOGIZE TO EACH OTHER AND HUG RIGHT NOW BECAUSE I AM MOTHERFUCKING DONE!”

“Y/N-”

“WILLIAM SEAMUS HALSTEAD I KNOW THAT YOUR MOTHER TAUGHT YOU BETTER THAN TO INCUR THE WRATH OF A PREGNANT WOMAN!”

“I’m sorry, Will.”

“I’m sorry, Connor.”

“Y/N Y/L/N you are officially my favourite person in the world, I was just about to ring their necks!”

“No problem Maggie.” You gave a weak smile as another contraction hit and Dr. Hajjar looked under the blanket before nodding. “Alright, Y/N, it’s time to push. If you’re not her husband or part of the delivery team; get out.”

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Five days later you were still in the hospital, because of all the complications you’d had during pregnancy. Dr. Hajjar wanted to make sure your blood pressure wasn’t a high average before she discharged you. So when Natalie went into labour, you could hear her screams from down the hall. You’d also been where Will briefly went to hide with his tail in between his legs after Helen, Natalie’s mother in law, dressed him down. When you heard her screaming for Will, where he was, you gave Connor one look before he sighed and called Will.

Connor briefly appeared at his father’s ‘I-want-control-as-much-of-my-son’s-life-as-possible-so-I-donated-money-in-my-wife’s-name-for-mental-health-when-it’s-mostl-likely-that-I-murdered-her’ ceremony. He only went for the speech, and when it was over he approached his sister. “Connor, it’s nice to finally see you. You’ve been back in Chicago how long?”

“Almost four months. I, uh, want you to meet my wife and daughter.”

“You- what? Who? How?”

“Well I personally have absolutely no idea how I got lucky enough to have a baby with my wife Y/N, much less have her love me as much as I love her, but I’ve decided not to look a gift horse in the mouth.”

“How old is your daughter?”

“Five days today.”

“Oh my God... When can I-”

“Now. You can meet them now.”

“I’ll get dad-”

“Claire don’t. Please. He’s the reason I left Chicago, you’re the reason I came back. I just don’t want the happiness I feel to end just yet.”

“Okay.” She hooked her arm around his as he led her out to the hall. “Did you really come back for me?”

“Well Y/N couldn’t stand the heat while pregnant, but you’re the reason we came back here and not to Seattle.”

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

You were cradling your bundle of joy and poop, Aviva Nadya Rhodes, in the lounge chair when Connor and Claire came in. “Hi, you must be Claire, I’m Y/N.”

“Hi, it’s nice to meet you too. Is it okay if I hold- Aviva?”

“Sure, here just sit down on the loveseat and I’ll pass her to you.”

“Oh, she’s so tiny. And she looks just like you Y/N. Doesn’t look like she got anything from Connor. You sure are a lucky girl, huh?” Claire had Aviva’s head in the crook of her elbow and was giving the infant an unbridled, beaming smile.

”Hey! Stop trying to turn my daughter against me.”

“Connor don’t worry, you’re going to be an amazing dad and she is going to love you so, so much. I can feel it.”

“Y/N’s right, Connor. You’re going to do great, plus I’m only joking, I promise. Aren’t I, my sweet, sweet girl?”

“She loves my daughter more than she loves me.”

“I’d normally say no and try to reassure you, but she does,”

“And that’s not a bad thing.”

“Yeah, exactly. I love you, Connor.”

“I love you too Y/N.”

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Sorry this was so bad, I’ll probably re-do this at some point cause I really like the whole faint-cause-pregnant-move-to-Chicago storyline I came up with. 

Again, sorry.

[peachy-beomie]

Holding You In My Heart (Until I Can Hold You In My Arms) <KUNTEN>

Genre: Fluff

Pairings: Kunten (Qian Kun x Ten Lee)

Word Count: 1,643

Warnings: None!

Synopsis: COVID AU in which Kun sets up a bunch of cute zoom dates for him and his boyfriend.

A/N: I got bored and I really want to start working on my masterlist so I decided to post this :D

AO3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29410125

From: qiankunprod@gmail.com

To: chittaphonleechaiyapornkul@yahoo.com

Join Zoom Meeting

{zoom link}

I stare quizzically at the email that pops up on my screen, interrupting my FRIENDS marathon. The message comes from none other than my boyfriend Kun, who’s been spending all of quarantine so far looking for ways for us to go on dates.

When COVID hit, Kun and I were forced to confine ourselves in our respective apartments, limiting contact. It hasn’t been too hard thus far, we call and text everyday without fail. Simple good mornings and silly pictures of my cat sufficed for the first month or so. But as the quarantine dragged on, I began missing Kun’s face more and more. We hadn’t been on a proper date in god knows how long, and it was starting to impact my mental health.

Curiosity consumes me as I click the link, awaiting whatever dorky plot Kun had conjured up. Within seconds his lopsided grin filled my screen and drew a small smile from my lips.

“Hi Sunshine!” He greets cheerfully, the familiar pet name bringing warmth to my cheeks.

“Heya baby, what’s this about?”

“Nothing, just missed you.” Kun’s tone has a hint of mischief that doesn’t go unnoticed by me. But playing along with Kun is way more fun than interrogating him.

“Mmm not as much as I missed you. You sure there’s no special reason for this?” I can see Kun’s eyes sparkling despite the low quality graphics.

“Weeeeellllllll I suppose I did want to ask if you’d want to go on a date?”

“A date? How would we do that?”

“Like this!” Kun gestures eagerly at the screen. “Through zoom! I found all kinds of fun things we can do.”

“And when would we do this?”

“I mean I’m free now…” Kun suggests, eliciting a giggle from me. Sometimes Kun’s cuteness is unbelievable.

“That works for me. What’d you have in mind baby?” Kun’s eyes sparkle mischievously.

“Wanna get your ass whooped at Mario Kart?”

“In your d r e a m s Qian.”

⏳

After that initial date, zoom dates with Kun became a frequent occurance. Kun wasn’t kidding when he said he had a lot of ideas. He set up so many dates ranging from movie nights (“You know he comes back in the next movie right?” “TOM HOLLAND IS TOO HOT TO DIE KUN.”) to a talent show consisting mostly of magic and Louis ignoring my attempts to make him do tricks. I began to look forward to each and every one of the meetings. Especially if it’s my turn to plan the date (“It’s more fun playing Just Dance against you cause you’re uncoordinated and I always win.” “Shut up.”). Dates with Kun made quarantine far more tolerable, though I still missed cuddling with Kun. The teddy bear he sent me as a replacement was a kind gesture though.

I hold it close as I watch Kun struggle to repeat the steps I taught him. A small chuckle escapes my lips, and Kun immediately turns to me with a pout.

“Don’t laugh, I think I’m doing alright.”

“Oh yeah at this pace you’ll be in level 2 hiphop in no time,” I joke, only laughing harder at the huff Kun lets out. “I wasn’t laughing at you darling, just thinking about how much I love you.” The older boy looks slightly stunned by my confession but he’s beaming from ear to ear within seconds.

“I love you too Sunshine.”

***

“It’s way too salty.”

“I told you the recipe didn’t call for a cup of salt but you wouldn’t listen!!!” I giggle at my exasperated boyfriend before putting the failed noodle dish in the sink.

“Maybe I should hire a better teacher.”

“Good luck finding someone else who’ll tolerate your bullshit like I do,” We both chuckle at that. “Are you available for another date Friday night?”

I pretend to think it over before shrugging, “I suppose I can fit you into my schedule.” Kun glares cutely at me through the screen. “What do you have planned?”

“It’s a surprise.” Kun wiggles his eyebrows for emphasis.

“Sounds mysterious.”

“Well if I recall correctly you love suspense,” Kun muses, “You in?”

“Of course.”

Kun tries to keep up his mysterious demeanor, but the way he visibly lights up at my confirmation is impossible to miss.

“Then I’ll see you in 3 days sunshine.” And with a final wink, he ends the meeting.

Cheeky fucker.

⏳

Finding the patience to wait for Kun’s surprise proved quite challenging. I couldn’t help but mull over what on earth the older man had planned. The existence of the mystery lifted my previously sour mood, but I couldn’t for the life of me solve for x while Kun’s gleeful words raced through my head.

After nearly an hour of staring at the same math question, I decide planning my outfit would be a better use of my time. Considering I have no idea what Kun is planning, I try to pick an outfit that’s casual but also pretty. I didn’t want to overdo it (it’s only a zoom date after all) but I also wanted Kun to know I tried. I tear my closet apart for about 20 minutes before settling on my favorite white tee and jeans. I also opt to do a little makeup, knowing Kun would appreciate it. Showering, makeup, and hair take up the rest of my time and before I know it, it’s time for our zoom date.

It appears I wasn’t the only one looking forward to the date because even though I logged on a whole 5 minutes early, Kun was already waiting to admit me.

“Someone’s excited.” I tease, proud of the light pink that dusts kun’s cheeks

“I’m the host, what’s your excuse?” He chuckles lightly. “You look gorgeous Sunshine.”

“Not so bad yourself,” my teasing tone barely disguises the obvious want in my voice. Cause Kun. Looks. Adorable. It’s not that he’s dressed up, not at all actually. He’s dressed somewhat similarly to me, drowning in a plain collared long sleeve. The sleeves are long enough to cover his hands, giving him sweater paws that make him appear not only soft, but tiny. His chocolate brown hair is mussed up, only adding to the overall image. To top it all off, he seems to be wearing a little bit of lip balm. I have never wanted to kiss someone so bad in my entire life.

“You frozen there lovebug?” Kun’s amused comment breaks me out of my stupor.

“Nope, just enjoying the view,” I wink nonchalantly once again relishing in the blush rising up Kun’s neck. “So what’s your plan?”

“You should be finding out in about…” He checks his watch dramatically, “5 minutes.” I could only giggle in response as I watched my boyfriend, eyes gleaming with mischief. As I may have mentioned previously: Kun is a dork. He enjoys setting up dates a lot (maybe a bit too much). He likes to come up with weird creative ideas for us to try. It’s one of the things I love most about him. And the way his gaze is flitting every which way and his legs are bouncing all over the place is a clear sign that he’s extremely proud of whatever he’s planned.

A few minutes of mindless chitchat later, I hear the doorbell ring. I give Kun a knowing look as he pretends not to know what’s going on. I open the door to see two boxes of take out from my favorite restaurant. I turn to Kun on the screen.

“You didn’t.”

“Oh, but I did sunshine.”

As I open the delicious smelling box I see that he’d gotten my favorite dish as well. He’d remembered every detail of it. A few tears escape my eyes against my will. Kun seems confused and concerned by my reaction, his beautiful features melting into a frown.

“Did I get something wrong? I swear I checked like 8 times to make sure I just--”

“No Kun it’s perfect,” I smile wetly. “You got everything right baby, I’m just really lucky to have you.” Kun nods understandingly grinning to reveal his dimple, and all of a sudden I’m hit with a wave of sadness and longing. I want nothing more than to be there with Kun, to caress his cheeks and bury my head in his chest and kiss the freckle under his brow that I love so much. I’m hit all at once with the realization that I miss being with Kun, and suddenly the tears are streaming down my cheeks. Kun stays silent, patient as always and it only makes me want to cry more.

“I miss you so fucking much,” I whisper between sobs. My vision is far too blurry to see how Kun is reacting to my outburst. “I hate this stupid quarantine, and the stupid virus, and stupid zoom. I just w-want to hug you so bad kunkun.” My voice breaks at the end of my sobs.

“Aw baby, I know. Any time we do these dates I can’t help but miss everything about you. You mean so much to me and not being able to see you has been torture. But don’t worry too much Sunshine. This is not permanent. I’m confident we’ll be able to see each other again.” Kun’s eyes are practically pouring out affection and genuineness.

“I’m sorry for ruining the date.”

“If you don’t hush right now I’m going to find a way to Zoom slap you,” Kun teased. “You have absolutely nothing to apologize for and you haven’t ruined anything. We can just eat and watch a movie together yeah?”

There on my couch, as I lost count of the hours going by with Kun’s voice in my ears: I realized that despite the unideal situation, we’d be okay.

KUNTEN PIC OF THE DAY:

[hollyhomburg]

Butterfly (Part 3)(BTS x Reader)

Summary: You’d always imagined that your relationship would be over if your seven boyfriends found out you self-harmed. But after a slip up involving Namjoon, everyone finds out about your bad habit. To your surprise, they make it clear that they’re not going anywhere.  

Warnings: Panic attacks, Graphic depictions of self-harm, , suicide attempt, hospitals, panic attacks, breakdowns, horror, blood

W/c: 13.6k

Song rec: Make it right ~ BTS

A/N: I know it's been a long time but I hope people enjoy this installment of Butterfly! warning- it’s pretty heavy, but it ends well. As I've stated before, it’s not my intent to romanticize mental illness, prompt someone into a negative headspace, or make light of any mental health issues. This work has been cathartic and sometimes difficult to write. 

Please, if you feel like you are not in a good place, reach out to someone, I promise you people care more than you think they do- Even if it doesn't feel that way. 

National Suicide Prevention hotline: 1-800-273-8255

*** This chapter contains graphic content of a that may trigger some readers, Please take note of the warnings and Read at your own discretion ***

The day is soft and leisurely- almost euphoric, people running around the Han river and the sun shining somehow brighter. Of course, the humidity outside is an oppressive weight that stops everything from being completely enjoyable and keeps clothes sticky. But it fails to put a damper on the overall incandescent mood that all of the boys feel. 

As Practice finishes earlier than expected, a rarity in itself; the boys feel the giddiness of summer making any exhaustion dissipate. What is rarer is that they have no plans for the next day or the day after that- a rare stretch of free time a respite from their constantly full schedules, and they don’t want to waste a moment of it

The ac unit is pumping freely into the air as they step into their apartment, the same place where all farce falls away. Suddenly hands get heavy and tender and Shoulders lean into arms that will gladly support them. Kisses pressed to hot sun warmed lips that linger in the safety of things known and mutually cherished. Hoseok trips over Jungkook’s shoes but only laughs instead of scolds Hoseok gives him a playful nibbling kiss in retaliation. Everything is good- nothing stressful. Idyllic.

Jungkook claims the largest shower to a chorus of groans from the others who are also sticky with sweat from the dance practice.  The 3 other bathrooms are  steadily claimed, eyebrows raised and questions asked with raised eyebrows, “want to join?” 

Jungkook takes off his clothes and puts them right into the washing machine. He grins when Yoongi tells him that he shouldn’t be a tease. And licks his lips in answer to the wandering hungry eyes, Tae already has Jimin pressed up against the counter in the kitchen, neither of them caring much that they’re both sweaty. But they won’t waste the day doing this here, there will be time for that later. 

Jungkook giggles and walks in the direction of the largest bathroom. The one just off of Namjoon’s room. The blinds drawn against the sun is the first indication that something might be wrong- that and, your clothes are folded there, neatly, on the bed, your wallet on top. 

You must have left it. He doesn’t remember you leaving in their clothes this morning, but maybe they’re clean and Namjoon just folded them for you. You do that sometimes, leave wearing their clothes claiming that theirs are so much more comfortable, only to forget half your wardrobe here. 

Jungkook smiles, thinking of how forgetful you can be, the countless times that you've gotten somewhere looked up and said “oh I forgot my phone!” and Namjoon would look over his shoulder and shake his head sometimes saying, “We spend too much time together you’re starting to act like me.” Hoseok slinging his arms around your shoulders from behind, frog walking with you for a few feet until it gets too inconvenient, making noises in time with your steps. Hoseok can’t see it but you're smiling but the rest of them can.  

“She’s just distracted by our handsomeness~” he sings, the same moment you join in. And Jungkook finds himself impossibly endeared, tipping his head into Hoseok's shoulder and grabbing your shoulders at the same time.

“Help- she’s been consumed by a junghope sandwich, someone get me a plate” Seokjin deadpans, making everyone erupt into laughter.

The memory is sweet and fond on jungkook's tongue. He misses you, he want you here right now to enjoy this day with them. He feels your absence as keenly as he would with any of the others. The clothes are a reminder that there is 1/8th of them missing. Though you were there that morning when they woke up (You’d slept between Jimin and Taehyung last night). You’ve probably gone back to your own apartment to get some work done. Sometimes Jungkook wonders why you even still live apart from them at all. 

“Hey has someone called Y/n? She should come over today!” his request is answered by a few muted agreements. Words swallowed by the largeness of the house.

Things have been so much better between you and Jungkook recently. Not quite the best, but he’s coming around and you’re letting him in again. Namjoon had given Jungkook a mountain of articles to read about helping people with your type of problems, and it’s safe to say he’s dedicated himself fully to the mantle of being an understanding boyfriend. understanding and not helpful- because it was irrational to think that they could fix your mental health (Namjoon’s words not his- Jungkook swears he’s an expert on this). 

The lingering awkwardness felt between you two had disappeared after he’d done the hard thing and apologized. 

The night Jungkook finally man’s up, You’re in Jimin’s room. Fiddling around with something on his computer trying a find a new drama for the two of you to watch having finished the previous one the night before. Jimin’s hair is curly and floppy and bleach fried. He reclines on his bed in a baggy set of blue pajamas and prattles to you about things on twitter when Jungkook had come in, propping up his shoulder on the door frame. 

“Hey, do you mind if i um- talk to you for a minute?” Jimin looks up from his phone, sending a concerned look in your direction, almost looking like he might want to stay to mediate. The fact that Jimin thinks he might need too only makes Jungkook feels worse. But he swallows down the feelings shame, because this isn’t about him or how he feels- this is about how he’d hurt you and owning up to it.

So he can’t take it personally, Jungkook knows Jimin doesn't want to risk another incident like the one a few days ago where Jungkook yelled at you in the hallway and inadvertently made you go… hurt yourself. No mincing words. Of course, that hadn’t been his intent, but that had been the effect of his actions. 

Whatever look you give Jimin must make him decide that it’s okay to leave the two of you alone together, “I’ll go get the popcorn.” Jimin says as he gets up off his bed, brushing Jungkook’s hip affectionately with the tips of his fingers in passing as he slips by and gives you both privacy. Jungkook shifts from foot to foot. Until your eyes flicker up from the computer. 

“You can just sit Kookie.” Jungkook squishes down on the edge of Jimin’s bed, feet on the floor, elbows on his knees As you forgo the computer and turn the rolly chair in his direction. He runs his hands through his hair. 

Jungkook looks at the ground, unable to meet your eyes,  “I don’t know where to start.” You don’t respond, and when he looks up he finds you not looking at him either. Your hands clenched together in your lap, twining over each other in the way he knows you do when you get nervous.

Are you thinking about indulging in your bad habit right now? Is that why you look so distracted? Is it like a notification on your phone? Dragging your attention away from the present? How does it feel? Are you okay? Would you even tell me if you weren’t? Tell me love - tell me please- I only want to-

This isn’t about me, he reminds himself.  

“I want to apologize to you- I know that I didn’t make enough effort when you first told us about your…your self-harm” Jungkook barely manages to get the words out, but it’s a start to being more forward at least. He doesn’t want to tip-toeing around it, especially when he knows you have more open discussions about it with the others. You finally look up at him, at jungkook’s words falling uncontained and unfiltered “But I want to be someone you can rely on- like you rely on the others. Like I should have been in the beginning. God do you know I would get jealous?” 

That prompts a little quirk of your lips. Small and barely there, and he feels the tension in his shoulder break. Jealousy is never something that any of you really get in this giant poly relationship as impossible as that sounds. There is always so much love to go around, everyone spoils each other so that it’s easier to ask for more space than for less. There is very little room for jealousy and even less time for it. “I can’t imagine why.” 

“When I would see you with Yoongi or Namjoon, and you guys would go all quiet when I walked into the room because I knew you were talking about mental health stuff- Jesus, I just wanted to be a part of it- but I let my stupid preconceived notions get in the way of that.” Jungkook swallows. “But what I’m trying to say is that- I’m sorry for treating you so terribly, and I’m going to change so that You don’t have to walk on eggshells around me anymore- and I know you can’t forgive me but-“ 

Jungkook is knocked out of his reverie by your hands, soft and delicate, cup his cheeks, and he realizes he was looking at his feet again. Thumbs come up to brush across his cheeks affectionately. “Jungkook it’s okay- I know it’s not easy,” your lips quirk down at the side, eyes getting a little shadowed, a little distracted by whatever internal monologue it is that makes you sad, the opposite of what he wants,“I know I’m not easy-“

“No don’t-don’t excuse what I did.” Jungkook says with a shake of his head, grabbing your hands in his and holding onto them tight.  “It doesn’t have to be easy, you should never feel like you need to be perfect like you have to sacrifice yourself and your happiness to be perfect for us. If I was a good boyfriend I would have accepted you for you and not demanded you change without a reason. I want to try to be better- to understand you better- If you still want me.” 

His voice tapering off into an unsure hush. In the weeks since everything blew up in between you two, it’s been a little off-kilter. It’s not like you and Jungkook had broken up and he and the other boys were still affectionate. But you could both admit that it had sort of feeling like you’d broken up. And you realize as you look down at him, his eyes wide, the chiseled jaw that you love so much and the kind man in your arms that you know never meant to hurt you, you don’t want to stay in limbo. 

You slot yourself more fully between his legs, standing and tilting his head up to look at you his hands clenched on either of your thighs, Your nose traces his as you whisper, “bunny” chiding and delicate, Jungkook hates the nickname from anyone but you. Your breath a warm soothing wave over his skin. “I’ll always want you.” you kiss him, soft and sweet, and before Jungkook realizes it he’s crying a little breaking the kiss and burying his face again in your stomach. 

“I’m sorry,” he huffs through the tears, holding onto you tightly like you're going to leave, but you aren’t going anywhere. 

you run your fingers through his long hair, curling the ends around your fingers. “I forgive you Jungkook.”

Jimin and Taehyung watch through the crack in the door, munching on the popcorn as Seokjin walks by with his sugar glider on his shoulder. “What are you two meddlers up too.” He whispers if he listens closely he can hear you and…is that Jungkook? Talking softly. His hand hovers on Tae’s hip. 

“Just listening to the show hyung,” Taehyung says through a mouthful of popcorn. Grin boxy and happy. 

Inside you and Jungkook are too. His hand running up and down your back, face buried in your stomach, as he promises you that he will never dismiss you so terribly again, that he’ll treat you better, that he’ll treasure you every day. 

He wanted to fix it.  

Fix it so badly. 

When Jungkook opens up the door to the bathroom, on that hot day in June, he realizes that he might not get the chance.

Is this another bad dream? An intrusive thought, Jungkook stands there frozen. 

How many times had he had nightmares about this happening, how many times had he dreamt of finding you like this? how many times had the others had the same fear?

This has to be another bad dream. A piercing scream, half shout of anguish, Jungkook’s disconnected from the sound even though he knows it comes from his own mouth. 

But the image of you, lying eyes closed and prone in the bathtub, lips blue and skin ashen, the cold water blood red, your hand dangling over the side and a puddle on the tile, won’t go away no matter how many times he blinks. 

A still life. A painting, 

His knees hit the floor with a crack but he pulls himself over to you, lifting himself up on the edge of the bathtub, his breathing ragged and tearing through him, “please please don’t- be- don’t” he chants as he presses his fingers to your throat, and nearly sags to the floor when he finds a heartbeat there, beating unevenly but strong, still there, and still alive.

“Fuck Y/n!” he sobs, hauling your body up and out of the water, not caring about the blood that splatters against his bare chest or soaks into his grey track pants. “Someone! Please! Someone Call-“ but his choking sobs cut him off. He screams for his hyung’s, voice shrill, breaking. He shouts again and again and again for Namjoon, for Seokjin or anyone of his hyungs, for his loves, the people that have always helped him and loved him.  

Jungkook shakes and sobs as he pulls you up against his chest. Small and limp and unmoving. And someone must here him because all of a sudden Jungkook hears a voice on the phone with police and paramedics rattling off their address. Seokjin’s shaking hands on his cellphone, choking back something in his throat as he looks into the bathroom and can’t- can’t handle it, turns away to steady himself and talk to the operator.  

And someone is telling Jungkook to let you go- “Let go jungkook please”, Namjoon climbing over Jungkook to push him back- what’s going on- Namjoon why are you- what could they even- his back hits the wall after Namjoons shove. He looks up, Namjoon lying you out flat so that he can put his full weight on your wrists which are still gushing blood a little bit- but they seem to mostly have stopped with the added pressure.

Someone’s sobbing in the other room. Jungkook has your head in his lap tears drip onto your chest as he grits his teeth, and all Jungkook can say is your name, like a record that’s stuck on a loop. Namjoon holds your wrists down and keeps you from bleeding out- if you haven’t already. 

A few Minutes drip by, like the leaky faucet in the tub, like the blood on the bathroom floor soaking into the grout of the tile. 

The apartment is a flush with activity and everything hazy through panic, the idyllic world disturbed by all this red, and you and your limp body. The pill bottle clatters as Namjoon accidentally knocks it off of the side of the tub, though now it’s empty- Hoseok’s sleeping pills? didn’t he just fill his prescription last week? Why is the bottle empty?

Namjoon and Yoongi talk to the paramedics because Jungkook can’t, can’t see anything other than your face, your lips turned blue, the same ones he kisses whenever he gets the chance. The ones he could never kiss enough- maybe would never kiss again. The paramedics drag him back, get him out of the bathroom as they rush because there simply isn’t room. 

Namjoon and Jungkook are the ones who get to pile into the ambulance with you. Though they’re originally only going to let Namjoon in, Jungkook won't leave your side, won't have anything come through the haze- not the words of the paramedic telling him to get out before they clothes the doors- not Namjoon who insists he comes. Both of them pile into the spot in the ambulance that’s meant for one person and not two above average size young men. 

The others will follow a short time later. The ambulance door closes against Jimin’s nearly shrieking sobs as Taehyung tries to hold him up, almost unable to under the weight of all this panic- just as week with fear his teeth gritted. 

You have to be alright- have to- they can’t lose you, not like this. Not when they should just be starting building a future with you. Yoongi drives everyone to the hospital and he does not speed and risk crashing. Though he does have to wipe away his tears whenever they have a stop light. And his whole body shaking too much to hold onto the steering wheel as well as he normally would- should- if he wants to make sure his family gets to the hospital unscathed. 

Jungkook and Namjoon arrive at the hospital and watch as you are loaded into the gurney, doctors in blue-green scrubs shout statistics and numbers like a separate language that makes little sense to either Namjoon or Jungkook. A nurse tugs Namjoon along asking about your allergies and getting a clearer story of what happened. 

Hoseok’s empty pill bottle is handed over as they push your hospital bed at a breakneck pace, disappearing behind doors that clearly state “operation gallery: doctors only” in red lettering. An orderly is pulling Jungkook back behind that line. But Jungkook can’t hear him, can’t hear anything beyond the ringing in his ears. 

Eventually, he gives up and leaves Jungkook watching those doors, waiting for you to come through it, someone put a sweatshirt on him at some point and it’s half zipped over his bare chest. Jungkook looks at his bloodstained hands for a second before his eyes go back to the doors, waiting for you to hop out and say “sorry just a bad prank!” but it doesn’t come, it doesn’t happen. 

He’s dimly aware of Namjoon talking a few feet away arguing with the nurse at the front desk. His low and panicked words, his begging “please- please is there anything you can tell us- how she’s doing- anything-“

The first flash of a camera startles Jungkook. 

He turns, someone in a facemask a cell phone out, another flash as his face. And then someone else, with another more professional camera who came from who knows where takes a photo of Jungkook. They must have been waiting outside of their apartment and followed them. 

After all, they do live in a complex known for their celebrity clientele. It’s a good bet that they didn’t even know who was in the ambulance and only hoped it was someone famous. And then Namjoon is there tugging Jungkook’s hood up and over his face with shaking hands as well as his own. He turns to the nurse asking for a private room to wait in. 

The hospital is already scrambling with activity by the time the others pull up. All in varying states of distress. The sun just barely setting. Seokjin supporting Jimin while Yoongi rushes through the paparazzi trying to remain stoic but unable to conceal his puffy eyes from them without a face mask. 

By the turn of the hour the internet and the news are roiling with questions. What was Bangtan doing at a hospital? Was one of their family members hurt? Was one of them hurt, why was the youngest covered with blood? Who was the young woman who came in just before them? The internet was abuzz with activity while the others filed in, intercepted by Namjoon, the only one who's somewhat steady because he has to be right now. 

Jungkook is still standing by the door, still watching it and waiting for you to reappear. The cameras flash regardless. By the end of the night, there will be enough photos that no one will be able to deny that yes it was him and the rest of Bts there. Was the youngest hurt? Why wasn’t anyone seeing to him?  

“Jungkook come on-“ Seokjin tries to grab his arm but Jungkook flings it off of them.

“No! She has to be okay hyung, she has too-“ he breaks off, a sob silencing him. The adrenaline is fading- His chest is breaking open like a cracked egg without anything to hold it in place. legs shaking and nearly giving out. 

“Jungkook- please” 

“No I’m not leaving-“ he gets out through gritted teeth. 

“There’s nothing more we can do Jungkook, we just have to wait,” Yoongi says, voice low, blinking away tears his shoulders shaking, hands fisted in the arms of Jungkook's sweatshirt. Through the glass, the cacophony of reporters is flashing, photographing their every movement. 

Though the hospital staff has quickly moved not to let people in. and keep a barricade at the door. They can still capture the way Yoongi’s fist is clenched around the bloody sleeve of Jungkook’s sweatshirt.

Yoongi puts himself in front of Jungkook, blocking his view of the door. 

“Jungkook,” Yoongi begs, just his name, and Jungkook takes it as some sort of permission to break. His hyungs are here together, they’ll keep him afloat under the tidal wave of all of this. Sobs tumble uncontained from the cavern that is his chest, the kind of sobbing that comes from fear and desperation. His face buried in Yoongi’s shoulder, hands coming up to cover his face, to feel the shuddering breaths that manage to escape from his lungs even though Jungkook feels like he can’t breathe. 

Together Seokjin and Yoongi lead Jungkook towards the private room guiding him away from prying eyes to hide his breakdown. One of the nurses watches them with something that looks like pain- like she knows something about grief like this because she sees it every day. Yoongi feels anger flare in his chest at the look- though it’s extinguished almost instantly by the maknae’s next shaky sob. 

Inside the room, Jimin, finally calmed down enough to try and stop crying- tips his head back against the wall. He’s only partially successful as he’s breathing heavy enough to call it a panic attack and he’s not the only one- Hoseok is shaking that way too. Hands digging into his sides. None of them can seem to stop crying. 

The only one who doesn’t take a chair is Namjoon. He tries to but can’t, instead standing by the door, knee shaking in an anxious jerk, scanning the hallway for anyone, anything that might help. 

His phone in his pocket rings and the others watch as he lets it. Taehyung looking up from where he’d pressed his face into Yoongi’s shoulder. But only after the third call does he answer. “yeah uhm- Mr. Bang, it’s Y/n- she’s- she“ 

And he breaks off, covering his mouth with his hand to try to keep his sobs contained, tears finally consuming him when he has to explain what he just saw- what he just witnessed- The trauma finally hitting him.

Jimin’s breath stops coming in gasps the second Namjoon needs him, standing just in time to grab under his arms as Namjoon’s knees give out and steer him into the chair he just vacated. taking in a deep breath as namjoon shatter, half in-between his legs and half still holding him, picking the phone from namjoons hands. 

“I’m sorry.” Jimin starts, and then it's hard for him to stop talking. His voice the only one in the room, as he spills the contents to their boss- why, the how- everything. 

“I don’t understand. I don’t fucking understand this.” Hoseok sobs, pulling at his freshly dyed hair, as he makes these offal-wrenching gasps. The way that Hoseok cries- almost tearless, that makes it sound like his lungs are rattling around his rib cage. 

No one has an answer for him. Seokjin’s shaking hands fist in his pant leg next to him.  The others silently watch the door, straightening up every time a nurse or doctor passes it. 

Around the end of the first hour, The PR team starts doing real damage control. More protection is set up in the hospital, noticed by them only because of the two guards that come to stand outside their door. though their faces are recognizable only vaguely (there have been so many new guards recently).

Mr. Bang is there too. Talks to Jimin and Seokjin and manages to get a word through to Taehyung, who only answers with a shake of his head when he’s asked if he wants food. If there’s anything he can do. While the others just sob or stare blankly after he clarifies that there is no news about your condition yet. No one asks about what’s online. No one checks their phones to see the photos or the theories; half of them don’t even have their cellphones or left them in the car. 

Mr. Bang and another manager leaves to get them food, which no one touches. Jungkook stares down at his hands. Stained with your blood but drying- flaking off onto the floor. 

Seokjin kneels down in front of him, a wet wipe in his hands, stretching out carefully to clean them off, finger by finger, slowly and gently. Taking care of Jungkook like he has since he was fifteen.

Jungkook doesn’t mention the fact that Seokjin is sobbing himself. But when the elder finishes, Jungkook doesn’t hesitate to pull him close. Needing something to hold onto, and it’s the saddest Seokjin has ever felt with someone’s arms around him. 

It’s almost midnight by the time someone comes by to tell them anything at all. the doctor is still wearing her scrubs, the sleeve of her shirt blotted with blood. The boys, still life at one moment and then a flurry with movement when she appears at the door- asking about you, swarming her, asking If you were okay, how you were doing. If there was anything they could do. 

taehyung stays in the back, breath held, as he waits for the words he dreads. Doesn’t let himself feel anything until he knows. Knows for sure. He waits to hear the words come from the female surgeon's mouth. I’m sorry, but there wasn’t anything we could do she was too far gone.

The doctor inhales. 

“We managed to seal the lacerations on her arms after a few hours of surgery, she had to get her stomach pumped due to the medication she took. She’s very lucky that you found her when you did, she would have overdosed and gone into multiple organ failure if she had gotten here 5 minutes later-” They fall silent, waiting for the shoe to drop. And then in the back again, Taehyung letting out a jagged sob in relife, holding onto the windowsill for support. 

“-We need to monitor her overnight to make sure there isn’t any damage to her organs and probably for the next few days, she might not wake up right away either.” 

“So she’s- she’s okay? She’s not going to die.” Taehyung almost doesn’t want to know the answer. 

“For now yes, the chances are slim.” The nurse purses her lips, almost about to ask another question. Before Hoseok pipes up, voice raspy and quiet. 

“Can we see her?”  

Namjoon didn’t know what the hardest part was going to be, he’d thought the hardest part was going to be when he’d held your wrists in the bathroom to stop you from bleeding out, but this- somehow this was worse. 

Your body underneath the sterile white blanket, your hair tangled in places, your purple lips, tube going into your nose, your hands above the blanket, everything from your hands to your elbows wrapped in thick white gauze, the heart monitor beeping steadily but slowly. Calmly even. 

The nurses realized quickly that none of them were going to obey the “only 3 people at a time” rule. The manager talked to the head orderly and gave them special privileges, these continued when visiting hours ended. They knew it might be a little while before you woke up after anesthesia. The doctor had come by to talk again, about how personal drive had a lot to do with it. 

Namjoon knew what they meant- they meant that if you didn’t want to wake up you might not, but didn’t say it outloud for fear of what it would do to the others. A look in Yoongi and Seokjin direction lets him know that he’s not the only one who understands what this might mean. But the maknae’s are still so hopeful. Looking at you like they haven’t given up yet. 

Hoseok is still- still half not there. He moved from the waiting room to your room like a ghost, where he chooses a chair and just stares into empty space. The rasping sobs have subsided and now-now he just sits and watches. Shrugging off any hand that might touch him with the intent of wanting comfort or giving it. 

Hoseok grits his teeth in anguish, able to keep the sobs in his throat, his eyebrows knit together as he tries to keep himself from breaking down.  his breaths coming out short and labored. as he locks the part of himself away that’s panicking. His eyes sting, and he knows his face is looking pinched and severe. “you always look so angry when you cry.” You’d teased him before, after their last award show when they’d come home and Hoseok and Taehyung had been admittedly a wreck. 

Hoseok can’t forget the conversation he had with you almost a month ago. He should have asked again- he should have told someone. Blame sits on his shoulders, heavy. 

The night had started with a win from an award show, and ended with Hoseok falling giggly into bed next to you. He doesn’t often reach the right amount of drunk vs sleepy, but tonight- everyone had let loose more than usual, high off the win and rush of getting an award and beating another record. Even though he usually doesn’t like alcohol, it sings like a special kind of caffeine in his veins tonight and he almost dosent want it to end. 

You are equally as trashed, and equally as soft looking in his bed. You’d been waiting at home after the award show. Food and glasses of champagne ready and waiting for them. Ready to celebrate and dance around your living room. 

Hoseok doesn’t know how he got so lucky in his life, the liquid gold threading it’s way through his heart like some kind of magic, he smiles at you and leans over to press his lips to yours. You can taste the happiness in it and the delightful cinnamon and spice taste that is Hoseok. 

“Hey,” he whispers, trying to be serious for about a quarter of a second before he fails, falling into giggles again, hiding his face in your shoulder hand fisted in the sleeve of your shirt. Suddenly dizzy with all the excitement. He keeps his tone joking “Want to have angsty conversations until two in the morning and drink wine?”

“That’s what me and Yoongi do!” you cry, for some reason indignant, kicking your socks off. 

“Yeah but I can be that way too! We could even, like- invite him!”  

You snort “like he’d ever get out from under Namjoon right now- not even for all the wine in the world” as if on queue, a high-pitched breathy moan and a muted ‘yes Joon right there’ is heard echoing from across the hall. Someone- jin from the sound of it- bangs on a wall crying something like “stop being nasty!” 

“A min Yoongi venting sesh without min Yoongi” both of you giggle at the thought. unlike other nights, when you might be interested in more of a supine eventing, tonight you just strip off your clothes to the barest forms without being truly naked, falling asleep in Hoseok's favorite way, your skin pressed against his. 

He’s drunk enough that he doesn't stop to wonder about what tracery the darkness hides on your skin instead settling into your arms like a ship would at port. Your hand running up and over his lithe shoulders tempting groans of pleasure from his throat. Hoseok has always always loved being touched, and being touched by you makes him feel like his very soul is shivering. Falling easily asleep in each others arms, the alcohol sending you into a spiral towards sleep.  

When you wake up, your head is pounding, and Hoseok is warm next to you, his fingers stroking through your hair, a look at him confirms that he’s awake and watching you. You know the wetness in his eyes as he looks down at you. You wonder if his head feels as bad as yours. 

“What’s wrong baby,” you say, reaching up to wipe the tears off his cheeks. 

“Bad dream,” he says. His eyes searching your body, his hands holding on a little too tightly. Hoseok doesn’t dream often, but whatever he must have dreamed about is clearly weighing on him. 

“Want to have that venting sesh now?” you pry gently, pulling yourself up so that you’re at his level and not snuggled in near his chest. His breath brushed over your cheeks when he breathes out. And in this lighting of very early morning, all of the red is diluted in Hoseok’s hair, making it look almost grey. 

You wonder what he’ll look like when it turns grey with age, you wonder even more if you’ll get to see it. In the dark, Hoseok looks like he’s wondering the same thing. He shakes his head, and your hands tighten on the back of his neck. “I don’t know if you want me to Y/n.” 

You stuck in a bated breath “what did you dream about Hobi?” 

He didn’t want to ask, maybe he didn’t want to know. All of the last weeks have been burning that question through him and he knows- all of them know what you said to Yoongi in the bathroom a few weeks ago when he caught you. Hoseok hears the words as good as if he was there himself - ‘I’m not going to kill myself’- But Yoongi- Yoongi wasn’t asking the right questions. “it’s just-“ he breaks off, swallowing a thick breath. “Do you ever think about dying? Do you want to die?”

You smile at him- or try too at least, the answer you give him isn’t what he wants not by a long shot. “I don’t want to make you sad Hobi,” your smile, your smile isn’t sad, regardless of what your words hint at, or the horror that wells up in Hoseok’s throat at how hopeless you look. 

Hoseok doesn’t want that.  You shouldn’t be resigned to this, this sadness that’s consuming you. You should be trying to fight at it. You try to give him a tired smile, a little stronger than before. Tugging him to turn onto his side so that you can put your arms around him. Hoseok doesn’t know what to say, what to do for that matter, his head pounds with the after-effects of the alcohol. “Let's just go back to bed okay?” 

Hoseok curls up against your throat and listens, hearing your heartbeat, and is lulled into a thankfully dreamless sleep, not realizing that later- he would wish he wouldn’t have, he would wish he had stayed up and asked you what you meant by that. If you really wanted to.  

“Do I ever make it better? Do any of us?” he murmurs, nearly asleep.

“Of course you do.”

If they had thought finding you in that bathroom was bad- it was nothing to compare to the pain of you waking up. 

Sometime in the early morning, muted grey yellow light filtering through the cracks in the blinds, some of the boys had collapsed into the so-called “parent cots” that the hospital staff had been nice enough to bring around.

The two smallest curl up swathed in Seokjin’s arms, with Jungkook and Namjoon in the other cot. Jungkook shaking through a nightmare in Namjoon’s arms at one point in the night, though by that time everyone is losing track of time. 

While every beat of the heart monitor had everyone feels a little better- because At least you were alive. 

Taehyung is propped up against the wall, coming to sit by you when he gives up on sleeping. After the first few hours of emotionally exhausted listlessness, Jimin couldn’t sleep either. Shifting out of Seokjin’s arms going to join Taehyung in the slightly larger seat probably not meant for two people. Hoseok is in a haze, half asleep and half awake, and never totally present.

From their side of your bed, Taehyung and Jimin watch and wait for him to fall apart. 

Hoseok has been awake the whole night, the only one who at one point hadn’t fallen asleep or at least tried. Hoseok looks like he might fall over, the bags under his eyes and the coldness in the room making his shoulders shiver uncomfortably, he watches you and he waits.

At one point in the night, Taehyung leans forward, taking his hand in yours, your hands are cold, but maybe a tiny bit warm on the palm, Taehyung warms it with both of his, careful not to jostle your bandages as he kisses your fingers. If he had any more tears left he would cry. 

“I promise, one day- we’re going to take a trip together, leave this whole city and everything that bothers you behind, and it will be just the 8 of us, maybe you and I could take day trips on our own, and I’ll make your life so happy and full that you’ll forget this ever happened, that you’ll forget you ever where sad.” Taehyung looks up when he senses Hoseok’s heavy eyes on him, his lower lip shaking. But he says nothing.  

Hoseok does reach forward and take your other hand in his. Thumb rubbing along the back of your hand slowly and gently. Eventually, Tae pulls back, leaning into Jimin’s shoulder, and drifts a little, not truly asleep and not truly awake. leaving Hoseok and Jimin to stand vigil. 

Jimin watches Hoseok almost as much as he watches you, he watches so hard he almost doesn’t realize when your eyes are fluttering open, he’s imagined it so many times over the last few hours he’s half-convinced it's not real. There is stillness for half a moment. The heartbeat monitor beeping unconvincingly in the corner.  

Your eyes are hazy and unfocused; Hoseok lets out a choked noise in relief, maybe your name, hand tightening over yours. “Y/n! Thank you- oh fuck thank god, thank you for not fucking dying- holy shit-“ Hoseok sobs, holding your hand so tight as he collapses forward onto the bed, knees sliding to the floor as he breaks uncontrollably. 

You blink through the cloudiness in your eyes as those sleeping stir awake. Seokjin blinks sleepily, unintentionally shifting Yoongi in his arms. On the other side, Namjoon stirs as Jungkook bolts awake. Jimin has never moved quicker in his life moving to your bedside. Taehyung jerks awake without Jimin's shoulder to lean on almost falling out of the chair. 

Hoseok is right- thank god for waking up. A god that Jimin has never believed in but might now just for this. He wants to collapse in exhaustion as all the fear leaves him and relife takes its place, he feels like he might just with how his legs feel like jelly. 

“What,” you say, voice small and rough, but it’s the most beautiful word Yoongi has ever heard in his life, more beautiful than any melody or rhythm. Eyes darting around the room taking in them: your family sprawled out in the grey hospital room. 

The heartbeat monitor kicks up beating faster, uneven. Your breath comes out worse. Suddenly taking everything in and understanding what it means. blood rushing through your head.

fuck- fuck you didn’t- you didn’t succeed when all you wanted to was- and now- and now they’re here and you’re- The white bandages on your arms are cumbersome, don't allow your arms to bend at all when Jimin and Hoseok take your hands in theirs. 

And Jimin’s expression is absolutely painful- painfully happy. 

It doesn’t make sense, not when the blackness in your lungs is sticky and suffocating- your treacherous heart hurts in your chest pumping despite everything. The dysphoria at living feels- it feels god awful. Worse than the pain that laces up your arms like gauntlets, worse than the swirling nausea lurking in your empty stomach.

Hoseok smiles at you through happy thankful tears. Jimin too- Looks so happy that you’re alive. It doesn’t make sense at all why he would be happy- not to your brain with everything- everything harsh and biting to your very being- god your head hurts. You’re dimly aware of Namjoon letting out a half laugh half sob in relief. Jungkook standing, his long hair half ruffled, his bunny eyes wide and tear-filled, looking so stunned, a smile slowly painting his face. 

It doesn't feel real, nothing does. The only thing you’re really aware of is the thunder in your ears of your own heartbeat, you can’t take it all in fast enough, everything- nothing you see makes its way through the fog in your mind and yet you’re overwhelmed with stimulus. 

The thunder of the heart monitor, Jimin’s and Hoseok’s hands holding yours, skin on skin warm but you feel so cold. Yoongi sitting up looking sleep ruffled but his eyes screwed closed with tears, back bending with the weight of it all as he holds his head with his elbows on his knees. Namjoon smiling at you tearfully with his dimples that you love so much on display, looking thankful. The sluggish pull of painkillers in your veins makes everything startling off-kilter like a ride at an amusement park. Taehyung crumpling into Jungkook’s side, falling to pieces in his arms. It’s all so much- too much. 

You give a shaky breath, pulling your hand out of Jimin’s and Hoseok’s hands, Jimin tries to hold on- but it’s almost violent how quickly you retract your hand from his, pulling at the iv drip there too so that it dangles out of the back of your hand. Pulling both of them to your chest, placing them there like you're guarding yourself against them. The heart rate monitor kicks up to the point that a warning tone sounds. A nurse opens the door as Yoongi stands. Not sure what to say- even less sure what to do. 

“Please- please why are you- why.” 

What are you begging for, what do you need? Just tell me how to make you better love, just let me help heal you. Tell me why you did it- why did you do it- why why why. There isn’t enough air in the room for your lungs to breathe easily. you can’t handle this- all of their eyes on you. Black spots start to dance in your vision  

The nurse strong-arms her way next to you in the bed, shining a flashlight into your dilated eyes “Miss do you know where you are? Are you in any pain?” Your breath still comes too fast-to-fast. 

“Please- why- what’s going on- why am I-“ your words are strangled by your breath, the panic all-consuming. The nurse hits the blue button; Seokjin utters your name- still blinking away the sleep in his eyes. Everything harsh and slanting and doesn’t feel real. 

“Miss you need to breathe, you need to calm down, you’re in the hospital.” 

There is another nurse at the door now, their hand on Yoongi’s side. Taehyung’s and Jungkook’s too. The room is full of people at this point. “You need to give her some space.” 

“No” Tae growls out, watching as you push away an oxygen mask, panic picking up again from the way you’re pushing everything away not just them. How afraid you look of everything, especially the hands that only want to help. 

The beeping from the heart rate monitor reaching a fevers pitch. The surgeon from before shoves her way past the guard at the door. Followed by another orderly who quickly tries to lay hands on Jungkook, who throws them off. 

“Someone gets them out of here- and pump 3 cc’s of Midazolam, she will tear her stitches if she keeps moving around- someone gets these boys out of here!” 

“Fuck off we're not leaving.” Jimin spits. The surgeons head whips up to look at him, her eyes narrowing at him, and Jimin has the good sense to look absolutely terrified. They all do.

“I do not care who you boys are. if you put the health of my patient at risk more than you already have I will ban you from her room and this hospital.” You still fight against their arms, even as the nurse shoots something into your resecured iv, another nurse holding your arm down to make sure you don’t try to tear it away. 

“Let me go. Let me go- please-please” you plead; the orderlies have to grip Jungkook around the waist before the door to your room closes behind them. sealing all the panic inside. 

Hoseok runs his fingers through his hair sagging against the wall, pulling at it harshly- and doesn’t know if he wants to punch a wall or be punched himself. 

“Okay- this is- that was. This whole thing is so fucked up.” 

He’s not wrong.

Food is unanimously decided on, a separate office room that one of the nurses leads them too. Namjoon doesn’t know what kind of strings Mr. Bang must have pulled to get them special treatment, but he makes a mental note to thank his boss later. 

For once, they’re all lost for words as they eat. Though Jimin doesn’t touch the food in front of him. And for once, no one forces him. This might have to do with the fact that he’d thrown up when they’d walked into the room. Yoongi and Seokjin both only nurse a coffee not feeling up to solid food just yet.

It’s around an hour before the same surgeon finds her way back into their room. “She’s okay.” She opens with, glaring at them like a hawk, Taking in the visible sigh of relief from all of them. 

“Why was she-” Seokjin swallows against the lump in his throat, “why did she push us away? why was she so-” he breaks off. Looking up at the doctor imploringly for answers to soothe the ache in his chest. 

“She was in distress, with all the painkillers and medication lingering in her system it’s likely she didn’t even know what she was doing.” everyone in the room sags in that. The doctor crosses her arms, giving everyone a warning glare. “If you put her in distress like that again I will have you banned from this hospital until she becomes more stable,” 

For the first time, everyone pays attention to what she’s saying. “You are not to touch her wrists or her stomach. We’re running tests right now to make sure she’s not in any immediate risk for acute organ failure, we’ve given her a sedative to keep her from potentially hurting herself or panicking the way you all made her but I swear if.-” 

“Is she awake? Is she still talking? Is she-“ Namjoon starts the same moment Yoongi says “let us see her.”

The surgeon snorts, rolling her eyes at the rapper. And Yoongi finds himself wishing that he were just a little bit taller so that he could stare down at her and intimidate her the way he’s trying too. Not that it looks like it’s doing anything other than piss her off. 

It was worth a shot anyway, and next to him, Taehyung is crossing his arms, looking at her with that unsettling blank look that seems to be doing enough. “If it were up to me you all would have been thrown out already.” Her hand hovers on the door, eyes going softer after a second “But she’s been asking for you- so follow me.”

You’re sitting up in the bed when they walk in. The yellow hospital gown clings to your shoulders- far too big. Hands lying on top of the covers your arms are bound in fresh white bandages From wrist to elbow. 

Someone’s opened the blinds of the window. And the morning light spills across your face. Looking much calmer and put together than when you woke up it’s almost startling. You try to smile at them, and say a muted ‘hey guys’, but it comes out so strangled it’s almost not a word. 

The bags under your eyes are almost purple. In the hospital bed- you look worn. The very soul of you looking like someone had washed a rag too many times and still hung it out in the sun to dry, leaving it crumbling and crusty and oh so delicate. You look a little sleepy too- must be the drugs, hell Seokjin could actually go for a sedative right now too. 

One of the beds has been removed. Seokjin, Yoongi, and Jungkook sit on the other. Jimin looks so unsteady on his feet that Namjoon immediately yanks him into the chair. Hoseok takes a seat at the end of your bed. Tae stands.

“I’m-I’m so sorry guys.” You say, a little tear coming out of your eyes as Jimin thoughtlessly takes one of your hands, realizing what he’s done the second he did and how you reacted before. But thankfully You don’t pull away this time. And he sees wetness sparking in your eyes. “I didn’t mean- I never wanted you all to-“ you look from boy to boy hunting for absolution, for forgiveness for something that none of them know how to give. 

“Are you sorry you tried? Or because you didn’t succeed? or was that even your intention? did you just go too deep?” Taehyung asks, not bothering to wipe away the tears that haven’t stopped falling since he saw you sitting alive in the hospital bed, calmer than before. There is nothing accusatory in his tone, he just wants to know. 

You don’t answer. Jimin takes the silence as his own, clamping down on the nausea.  

“You know I thought there’d be a sign if you were really going to do it?” he says, and you turn from Tae to focus on Jimin. Your fingers holding onto his hand weekly. And like before, once he starts talking he just can't stop, the words tumbling from his lips like a confession. 

“I thought that maybe we’d be able to anticipate it and be enough of a support system to catch you before this point. I even- fuck- you don’t know this but I even checked your phone? Even though I knew it was a breach of privacy? I thought ‘she’s definitely the type to leave a note and she’d probably draft it before she sent it out or something’ so I’ll be able to know before she does it. I’ll be able to stop her.” 

Jimin is trying so hard not to break down, you can see it in every twitch of a muscle that he makes, every single deliberate word. His collarbones look incredibly sharp under the collar of his t-shirt. And his other hand bites into his shoulder, holding on tightly while the one in your hand grips gently. As gently as you would touch something soft and newborn. Jimin’s lips are red bitten, his eyes puffy but clear. “But you know what the last words you said to me where?” you shake your head, trying not to cry yourself. 

“You said ‘see you in a little bit’ yesterday morning before we left for practice. like it was just going to be any other day- and after we found you all I could think about what that. That I’d see you when” his voice cracks, but he presses on the ache in his lungs, needing to get the words out. “That I’d only see you when we both died, and maybe that was what you meant. Maybe I’d have to wait my whole life before I saw you again in whatever what comes next.” Jimin is sobbing now, openly, doing nothing to stop the halting trail that they carve down his cheeks. Over cheeks and over lips that you’d kissed a thousand times. 

And almost never got to kiss again.  

“But I don’t want to see you then- I want to be with you every single morning, every single time I wake up I want to see your face, from this day on until the day I die I want to be able to see you every single fucking day.”

He’s crying too hard to let the words get through towards the end. You reach up, your hand stopping when it tugs on the iv but Jimin is already falling into you taking your reaching as permission,  already burying his face in your shoulder as much as he dares, worried like that you would disappear with too much force. And you cry, the weight settling on you like blame- because you’ve hurt this man, this lover of yours who wanted nothing more than the tenderest of lives for you. 

A life that you have never wanted. And you wish you did, you wish you had. If not for anything else than to avoid this mess that you’ve made, the pain you’ve caused in the people you love so much.  

You’ve hurt him so much by tearing yourself apart that now he is falling in shambles. You wish you could move your hand to run them through his bleach fried yet greasy hair, you wish that you had any soothing words for him- but you don’t. 

You’d tried to kill yourself, nothing more than that and nothing less.

You’d tried and failed and you were still here, and now you had to deal with the consequences. Jimin won’t move, won't stop running his hands over your throat to feel the pulse there, nose pressed to your neck to hide his tears. to reassure himself that you’re alive, that he still has time with you. 

On the cot pulled next to you, Yoongi sits, his hands shaking around a coffee that he doesn’t sip it. He’s the next to speak, the next one who has enough courage, “you know what I thought when I came into the bathroom and found Namjoon and Jungkook there with you?” Yoongi’s voice shakes, his hands in fists at his sides, he looks so so small there, his teeth gritted against the emotional pain in his throat. “I thought fuck- how are they going to survive this, how are they going to put up with losing both of us.” 

Jungkook lurches to his side, “Yoongi no-“ he says, as the others look on horrified, Yoongi bites his lip and brushes the tears out of his cheeks angrily as Seokjin fists a hand in the back of his jacket. “I know I wouldn’t have done it- I know it was just a passing thought, but also- fuck, I would have been a ghost had you not come back to us- a part of me would have died if you had, and I don’t want you to think that I’m holding onto you just to hold onto myself- but fuck, fuck I need you. I need you every day. Every moment like Jimin said every day that doesn’t have all of us in it is hell for me.” 

Taehyung pipes in, teeth gritted against his tears, “I want you to be here, and I want to you want to be here- I want you to get better. I don’t know what would be good for you.” Taehyung’s lower lip trembles as he tries not to cry, in taking several shallow breaths, “we’re not enough to properly take care of, and I know that now” Taehyung sees how your crying anew and rushes over his own words. 

You don’t want to admit it- none of them do, but the fact of the situation is that no one would be here if they were enough to keep you alive. “I know, I know you try really hard, and I know that all of us do too, but-but we couldn’t stop you, we couldn’t help you in the right way, and I know you need a better safety net than us. Do you think-” 

Taehyung pauses, closing his eyes for a moment- he knows he won't be able to go back from his next words, his next suggestion, once he says them you’ll act regardless of what he wants, but it might be what you need to keep this from happening again. 

 “Do you think that it might be better if you went to a recovery center? Or a mental hospital for a little while? Just to make sure you’re okay and safe?”  Seokjin and Jimin stiffen, but no one protests, no one tells you that you shouldn’t- even if they don’t want you too, they all know it might be best if you do go. 

“I don’t know-I don’t think that i-” you shudder and shiver, eyes darting from each of them, waiting to see if any of them are going to jump up and say that they don’t want you to be admitted to a hospital. Don’t want you to go somewhere that they can’t follow. 

Seokjin grabs your hand from where he sits folded over your right side, winding his knobby hands with yours, “you don’t have to decide now” the words you’d needed to here, a tense breath released from all of them.

“You can think it over and we can try to figure something out that works.”

The next few hours are marginally less sucky. You meet with doctors, they check your stitches and run a few more tests. There is a tenser meeting with the police. But everything goes smoothly- probably because of a stack of cash slid to them by one of the managers to keep it quiet. Always focused on containing scandals. 

By the end of the day, some of the boys need to go home and at least shower and change clothes if not get some sleep. Though Jungkook straight up refuses too until Namjoon gives him a look. Yoongi and Tae go to retrieve dinner from somewhere better than the cafeteria to get food. 

The others will be back soon, Seokjin stays with you, the others promising to bring back a change of clothes- he’ll just shower in the small bathroom attached to your room. He leans up against the door, the tv droning in the corner on some drama. Watching your face silhouetted against the yellow light. indulging in the image of you for a moment. 

You’re quiet just watching the tv going in and out of sleep. They’re going to try and wean you off the painkillers in an hour or so, and the doctor had warned you to try and get some sleep while you can. After a moment, you notice Seokjin by the door, giving him a small tired smile. 

Seokjin struggles to find something to say, but doesn’t, putting his hands in his pockets. You scoot over a little, patting the bed next to you. “Want to sit and wait for food with me?” neither of you mention that you probably won't be able to eat any of it. You’re on a liquid diet until they get your second-day labs back. But one of the nurses did promise you a very tasty strawberry and watermelon shake, so there’s that to look forward too. 

Seokjin nods and carefully gets into bed next to you, on top of the covers while you’re underneath, careful to leave some distance between the two of you in case you want it. His heart fluttering when you don’t instead turning onto your side and reaching to set your arm over his chest gently. Seokjin shifts, letting you tuck your shoulder under his arm. 

The television changes to a news briefing. a car pileup, and then before Seokjin can change it, “No news yet on the most recent celebrity news. What were the members of Bangtan Sonyeodan doing at Asan Medical Center and why aren’t the police saying anything- more on what we know during our celebrity bulletin at 8.” 

“I really made a mess of things for you guys didn’t I.”

“Don’t worry about it please” Seokjin begs, running his hand down your arm and kissing the top of your head. Reaching for a moment, for the clicker to shut the television off before they play anything else. 

“But you-” 

“I’m serious Y/n” Seokjin cuts you off, looking down at you, a bone-deep exhaustion in him as he reaches a hand to brush at your cheeks, hooking a hand under your jaw to turn your face up so he can see you better. 

“The managers have dealt with it, and we’ll see if any of the doctors breach doctor-patient confidentiality- and none of us care, we’re all just relieved that you’re still alright now.” the thudding truth of that last statement makes Jin feel like he’s gonna cry again, but he doesn't want to- he’s tired of crying. 

“You should get some sleep before the others get back.” You nod, seeming to accept his words for now at least before you snuggle further into his side. you’ve lost a little bit of your ashen tint to your body, but you’re still a little bit cold, a little weak from the blood loss (though they did have to give you infusions during surgery. Seokjin rubs a hand up and down your back rapidly to warm you up. 

“Can you...” you start for a second, cutting off, looking shy. cheek against his chest. 

“Yes, sweetheart?” Seokjin asks murmuring the words into the top of your head (even if your hair is a little greasy)

“Can you sing for me?” you ask quietly. 

“Of course,” Seokjin smiles, you’ve asked him to do that before, in the kitchen in your house, before you go to sleep, you love the sound of his voice, of all of theirs really. “Any requests?” 

“Whatever makes you happiest.” Seokjin swallows, turning it over in his head for a moment before he decides on it. He starts up, the words falling from his lips the way they’ve done 1,000 times. 

“Will you stay by my side will you promise me~” he continues the rest of the verse of butterfly until he gets to the rap part. Slipping into Yoongi’s lines with a slightly more joking tone, changing the words to puns as he sees fit. “butter cake~ butter cake~”

 Even after all these years- Seokjin still can’t rap. But he does his best switching around the lyrics and making them goofier while keeping the rhyme, swaying side to side with you in his arms as much as he can in the hospital bed. The giggle you let out is soft and rippling, coming from your belly. Making the first real smile he’s had today appear on Seokjin's face, his hands holding onto you a little tighter as he breaks off “You’re going to make me lose tempo ~” he whines. 

Outside the door, Yoongi and Taehyung pause, listening to the sound of your and Seokjin's laughter. Looking at each other, the bags of food in their hands, just soaking in the sound for a second, even as it fades. You start singing too. your voice gentler and quieter, sleep-roughened, joining in with Seokjin's. 

Taehyungs hand squeezes his roughly, the younger taking in a shaky breath.  And for the first time since they got home and found you, Yoongi lets himself believe for a moment that everything is going to be okay. 

4 WEEKS LATER 

“So,” Mr. Bang says as he makes his way around the edge of the table, it’s only him, their manager Sejin, and boys in the conference room today, this decision is purely between the head of the company and them really. “We’re here to discuss which one of you should go public with Y/n as your significant other.” 

The room erupts with the conversation, Jimin and Seokjin actually sit up, everyone simultaneously volunteering themselves for the position. It wasn’t really a position, they knew that whoever went public with Y/n would undergo severe scrutiny and probably a hit to their popularity; it would incur the wrath of the fans, several trending hashtags of twitter. And make everything much more difficult for them in general. 

They didn’t care at all of course, how many times had they each wanted to take you to a party or an award show with the company’s blessing- or have you sit in on an episode of run BTS or star in a Vlive. Being your official boyfriend in the company’s eyes was just permission in general to do just that. 

The only reason why none of them were jumping out of their skin in anxiety about having you not in the room with them was that you were currently exactly 3 floors below them, in the practice room- Soobin had invited you to watch their practice for their upcoming first concert. 

None of them knew their juniors all that well yet. But they knew there would be enough staff around to keep an eye on you. No one had come out and told any of them what had happened, or even knew the nature of your relationship with the boys. But all of them knew that you were somehow special to them, though only the managers knew anything more to speculate about your relationship- Mr. Bang and Sejin where the only who knew the full story. 

You hung around so often that you knew all of the staff by name, had brought doughnuts to the break room often enough and volunteered to help many times, enough that the staff liked you. In the first week after the hospital stay, one of the makeup noonas had even asked Jimin where you where, tensely asking, “is she- still in the hospital?”

Jimin had been able to choke out “She came home last night.” while he barely managed not to burst into tears. Taehyung had stepped in, stepping in with a hand on Jimin's shoulder, and comforting words in his ear, gripping his hand hard. 

“it’s okay Jimin, she’s fine at home, Namjoon is with her now- we don’t have anything to worry about.” 

So at the moment, they had nothing to worry about. And as much as they all hated to admit it, it wasn’t because they trusted you- no- it was because The staff was under explicit instructions from Namjoon at this moment not to let you leave the company building without texting Namjoon first. 

Your hospital stay had been all over the news for weeks even if no one had ever figured out your identity. A small miracle in its self. Some talk shows were still speculating about it- and hopefully, this business with them coming out with you as their official S/o would put the matter to rest. 

You understood why it was necessary, even if it meant lying about what had really happened. Saying that you had fallen into a glass table, would be your official story, the youngest member finding you first which was why Jungkook had been so dazed, why there were more than 400 photos floating around on the internet of him half shirtless and bloody. 

An accident- even if it was anything but. 

This particular discussion had come out of a few tense weeks- following your…attempt. When the boys had decided that hiding you were doing more harm than good. They’d initially intended to draw straws for it- pure luck was the only way to do it fairly. And they’d alerted the company more as a courtesy than anything else. 

The company hadn’t like that one bit. None of the management, Accept for Mr. Bang, who had sat back on his thighs, given them a tired smile and said, “you really love to give me a headache don’t you?” 

So now they did it the company’s way, with statistical evidence to who it would affect the least, who was most likely to not cause too many waves. It was an ineffectual and unemotional approach to it, and all of them hated it. To Taehyung especially- it seemed like the statistical information in front of them discounted on fact. 

The facts being that they where all in this relationship together, every party an equal piece of the love that you shared, even if the nature of that love and the way it was felt and received was different for each member. 

Everyone needed different things and from each other- they got it. Tae needed companionship more than anything, someone to be there- but not necessarily to speak, simple enjoyment of each others company which was why sometimes he was content to sit back and let the others be loud for him. 

It was different than the way that the others showed and receive love the same way Jimin needed physical affection like it was air, and Yoongi- Yoongi only really needed it on the bad days like Tae. Whereas Namjoon- wasn’t exactly the most affectionate of the bunch but was always okay with receiving even if he wasn’t initiating it- different then the way that Seokjin sometimes needed his space and needed that to be physical- Seokjin who got just as much satisfaction from caring for others as he got from being cared for. Which was why he and Jungkook had a symbiotic relationship, Jungkook needed to feel snuggled down and smothered with love to feel secure. 

And you, the way that you needed understanding and care without enabling your worst habits. Care and gentleness without accommodation. That in itself a challenge that they were slowly conquering together, though your therapist was helping them in no small way. 

They were all a puzzle piece fitting perfectly with the ones around them. And this- this arguing and analysis of them- it felt like management was trying to shave down a piece to fit better when in reality- they already all fit perfectly together. 

So the others might shout and ask questions- but Taehyung just sat back, and waited. 

“Before you try to speak your case, you should know that both of you have been eliminated from consideration.” Yoongi has to grip Jimin’s hands to stop him from sitting up, he can feel the rage underneath the younger skin as Jimin’s whole body tightens. 

“Would you at least tell us why?” Seokjin asks scalding, never one to take the company’s wishes into account. 

“It’s simple,” Sejin says, shuffling the papers on the conference table in front of him. “You’re the most popular domestically, and Jimin is the most popular abroad by a number of twitter engagements- statistically the group would take too much of a hit if either of you was viewed negatively.” 

The members don’t comment on this, rolling their eyes if anything.  They’d long since stopped being jealous over each other being more or less popular that each other- since just after their debut. Seokjin slumps back in his chair rubbing his lower lip with his finger. And surprisingly, doesn’t protest. 

He’s thinking of all of us, Yoongi realizes with a start- his heartstrings pulling, Seokjin might have tried time and time again to piss off the company as much as possible with his hair dying, hair cutting and liberal style opinions. But this time- he’s not just accountable for himself.  

“Because of this Hoseok is also out.” 

“What the actual F-“

On the other side of the table, Seokjin forcefully pulls the redhead down. Taehyung looks like he might laugh if it wouldn’t make him sick. 

“We also believe that the fans will think it’s strange if the youngest member is in a relationship before his hyung’s” Jungkook’s jaw tightens but he waves his hands for Mr. Bang to continue. 

“Which leaves us with Namjoon, Yoongi, and Taehyung as possibilities.” The three are rim rod silent. Taehyung looks tired, blinkingly lazily, Namjoon’s tapping the table agitatedly. Mr. Bang turns to Namjoon first, leaving no room for preamble. “We’ve come to the conclusion that Namjoon would be the best pick, we believe that next to him, Y/n will leave a favorable impression. Namjoon is best equipped to deal with all of the stress as the leader.” 

“But won't this also add to this stress?” Taehyung asks, leaning forward, his eyes dart to Namjoon’s “I’m not trying to advocate for myself it’s just-“ Taehyung makes eye contact with Namjoon. “this is going to be…a lot” 

Besides Namjoon, Yoongi nods, “it is- but it’s going to be worth it.”  

“Are there any objections?” Mr. Bang asks.

Inside the practice room, you watch the members of txt perfect the ending of one of their songs- Soobin is the only one who you really have any interaction with, as he’s not that much younger than you or Jungkook. But you’re slowly starting to get to know the other members better, even if the age difference is a little more insurmountable. 

They’d offered you an in on this practice more as a courteously to their hyung’s than anything else. Here at the company- no one knew exactly how to place you. Most of them taking bets on who were you dating this week, which was a subject of constant debate at the beginning after a makeup unnie had walked in on you kissing Namjoon and Yoongi in the same week (in the same closet no less). The unnie had even tried to tell Namjoon after a little while- not that it hadn’t already made it around the rumor mill. 

“Wouldn’t it be a shame if they broke up? But she distracts all the boys when she comes around and they do have an even busier schedule coming up.” Imagine her surprise when her confession, what she had seen was greeted with an understanding laugh from Namjoon and a flushed face by Yoongi. “So that’s where you went off too when you were supposed to be working on your mixtape- you asshole! I waited for 30 minutes for you!” 

Now, most of the staff knew you by name- and knew not to ask what kind of weird relationship you had with the boys, not that they’d ever believed the truth of the matter. You were all good at hiding it and dodging any questions. But they did notice the marked shift since the hospital stay. 

Everyone could put two and two together. Especially given how the boys were with you now compared to before.

They’ve been treating you so gently the last few weeks, so tenderly, even in front of the staff. Yoongi had brushed a hand across your cheek when they left for the meeting, and Jimin hadn’t seemed to want to let go of your hand. If any of the staff was watching the 8 of you, when you’d looked up- you hadn’t noticed. The assistant that usually babysat you when you were without one of your boyfriends (not without good reason- you’d gotten lost on more than one occasion wandering around the company before) gesturing you towards the leather couch in the corner where you could sit and watch the practice without fear of disturbing them.

You have another week until you can get the stitches out of your arms but the scars will stay for a while- if not for good. Your light blue sweatshirt is tight at the wrist; there isn’t a risk of your sleeve slipping up and any of them seeing. Before the Txt members can finish their current song the door to the training room opens. And a mask-clad Jungkook pokes his head in. You shoot up and gather your stuff.

You cast a quick glance around making sure that there aren’t any cameras around to record or microphones- it’s just a general practice so you shout. “Thanks for letting me kill some time cucumber!” before you hurry out the door. 

Soobin’s reply comes with the start of “yah! Noona-“ but you don’t hear the rest of his protest at your weird nickname for him as the door closes behind you and Jungkook. 

“How was the meeting?” you ask sweetly as you follow Jungkook, and you can see his eyes crinkle and know he’s smiling at you under his mask. The tips of his fingers brush yours after you’re done hooking your mask over your face. You’ll enter the car through the underground parking garage, but it never hurts to be extra safe in the face of paparazzi. “You guys figure out which one of you is going to be my fake boyfriend yet?” 

“Yeah, there isn’t anything fake about me you brat,” Yoongi says as he exits his studio as you pass flicking you on the shoulder before running his fingertips down your arms gently, joining you and Jungkook on your way down the hall to the lounge room where the others wait. Yoongi like Jungkook only brushes fingers with yours though he does playfully tug on one of the strings of your hoodie- he’s in a good mood- but the heaviness in his eyes tells you that whomever they’ve decided for you it isn’t Jungkook or Yoongi. 

At the same moment, Jimin passes on his way out too and almost stumbles when he sees you, that same heartbreaking boyish smile that makes his eyes disappear erupting on his face when he sees you. 

Pulling you away from Yoongi and Jungkook and giving a careful glance around to make sure there aren’t any unwanted prying eyes. Pressing his lips to yours in hello when he realizes there aren’t. His plush lips sucking yours in a passionate kiss, one that seems a little resigned though. 

“So it’s not you either,” you ask when you break apart. Jimin giggles, and shakes his head. “No, but I wanted to see you before I left, just wanted to let you know that I’ll be back later,”

“What are you doing?” you ask shyly, as Jimin kisses your fingertips, his fingers lingering on your rings you have there, small and perfect, a small red stone at the center of a delicately thin band. He slides one off your ring finger and puts it on his own, though it’s a tight fit. “This is pretty- who gave it to you?”

“Namjoon” you smile, letting him take it, you and Jimin are the type of couple who share jewelry all the time. “You never answered my question” 

His answering smile is mischievous, “you’ll find out later,” he says, kisses you again quickly, letting his forehead rest against yours for a second.

“Number sweetheart?”

2 weeks earlier was when you’d devised the number system.

 “If you’re not going to go to the hospital, then I think we should set up some rules- or just some things that could help you.”  

You suck in your lower lip, hands tightening on the blanket in front of you. and Namjoon is already soothing a hand over yours. It’s a comfy night in, take out, your staple these days and everyone in pajamas. You yourself are in a cooky themed top and tata themed bottoms. All the others are piled around you likewise swathed in fluffy blankets propped up against pillows. 

Someone had the bright idea of dragging two king-sized mattresses out into the living room a few days ago and you’ve all been sleeping out here, like a massive sleepover every night. It’s more out of necessity than anything else, after the second night that you’d slept home, you’d woken up to Yoongi sleeping in Namjoon’s chair again for the third night in a row, just to keep an eye on you. and this might not have been an ideal arrangement (everyone was woken up whenever someone stirred to use the restroom) it was better than that alternative. 

You play with Seokjin's fingers in your lap, tracing along the double joints and the lines of his palms as he talks. “you promised you’d be more open with us Y/n. And you’ve tried before- you’ve tried to tell us how and I know it’s too hard for you. But maybe it will be better if we’re not all comparing notes and you give us something to jump off of.” 

“And you know I’m not sure it if-if I can give you that.” you have to be open with them, even if it’s hard but sometimes, it’s just impossible for you to be open. When you say this, some of them look tired, some of them look a little angry. But what’s best is Jungkook leaning forward to take your hand, your feet in his lap  “I understand,” he says, nodding a little, his fingers smooth over your knuckles in admonishment, His long curly hair falling in his eyes. 

it’s Taehyung who suggests it, curled on his side, head half in Namjoon’s lap. “What if we devised something easier, some way that we can check in without feeling like we’re going to make you close off, kind of like the colors system.” You nod, as do the others. You’re all familiar with the stop light system for your more intimate encounters, enough that you all understand what he’s is getting at. 

“So like- numbers you’re thinking?” Namjoon clarifies, sucking in his chin and mulling over the words in his head. his fingers absentmindedly trailing along Taehyung's jaw. below him, Tae basks in the affection, it looks like he would purr if he was a cat, but Namjoon is so thoughtful that he doesn't notice. “So like, 10 for like, needing to be checked into the hospital, and 1 for like, so happy I think everything could be okay?” he clarifies. 

“I feel like it should go the other way maybe like 10 is happy, and 1 is sad,” it seems almost too simple to use those words but the others know what you mean. Sometimes it comes down to something just that simple. 

“We should write it out,” Jimin says, standing up and almost falling over as he steps over bodies to get a nicer marker and a clean sheet of paper, switching back and forth with Namjoon, scrawling in elegant Hangul as you bounce things back and forth. Eventually coming up with this:

10- So happy that I think everything’s okay from now on. 9-  A really really good day, 8- I’m gonna be okay probably for a few days after this, Cuz I feel so nice, 7- happy, (the feeling like when you get a hug and the warmth stays for a long time) 6-  happy, might feel a little meh, but it’s nothing that’s getting in the way of everything. 5- I’m okay. 4- I’m not okay but I might be in a little bit. Be gentle with me, maybe don’t leave me alone. 3- Don’t leave me alone. Bug me to talk until I do (even if I don’t want to). 2- Don’t leave me alone, get everyone together, cancel whatever needs to be canceled. 1- Check me into the hospital.

Jimin is careful as he pens the last line. Thinking about the possibility of a one. The list gets pinned to the refrigerator, alongside a picture of the 7 of you (minus Seokjin who was behind the camera) all sprawled out and sleepy in the living room after a movie night.

It’s a few days until it’s used. But Jimin is surprised how much better it makes him feel when Taehyung asks you “number?” and you sit and think about it for a second, looking at the list on the fridge. “Probably a 4.5,” you say in a quiet voice, a little bit worried how it will be received,  But it’s honest, and that’s all you promised to be with them. You’re feeling just the slightest edge towards delicate today. 

Taehyung and Jimin spend the rest of their free time snuggling you and running their fingers through your hair until they have to go record. And throughout the evening and most of the afternoon, you sit in the corner of the recording booth watching the seven of them record a chorus until their throats hurt. Flashing them smiles and thumbs up whenever one of them turns to look at you.

“Number sweetheart?” Jimin asks, in the hallway after they’ve decided which of them will go public with your relationship. 

You think for a moment, “probably a 6 or so.” Jungkook still lingering nearby, nods, then gestures you to follow. Jimin’s heart a little lighter after checking in that and making you’re okay, knowing that even if you weren’t the others knew and would take care of you. He takes a moment, Kissing you again, making it deeper this time, his hand on the small of your back, tongue licking at your lower lip hotly, before he’s breaking away again leaving you a little breathless and flustered. 

“See you tonight!” he calls, dancing away, at the same moment you yell “Park Jimin you are a tease!”

It’s isn’t until you’re all back home that they tell you, Namjoon shyly looking down- trying to hide his dimples. As you shout “Joonie!” and hug him. His hands slipping over your shoulders, holding you tightly. His dimples and his smile incandescent. 

“Ah I’m so jealous,” Seokjin comments behind you at one of the bar stools, though he doesn’t look all that upset with a lap full of Hoseok who seems to barely be paying attention, almost asleep in Seokjin’s lap. 

He didn’t get a good night sleep last night- and you try not to think about why that is, and why he crawled into bed with you and Jungkook so early this morning either, all of them have a hard time leaving you alone- or going to sleep in general these days, especially since you’d taken apart the group bedroom in the living room and switched back into your usual sleeping arrangements.

“Your knees are so boney” he comments, shifting to sit better on Seokjin’s thighs. “Yah! Like your ass is any better!” Seokjin replies, but there’s no bite to any of it. Especially when Hoseok slumps against Seokjin’s shoulder. Tipping his head into Seokjin’s neck, a safe harbor despite the teasing, looking small and in need of protection in a way that he rarely asks for but sometimes needs.  

At the same moment across the city, Jimin sits in the expensive and plush chair, the room is private enough where he can take off his bucket hat and his facemask, running his fingers through his hair before the manager enters his office after having left Jimin alone for a moment. “We’ve had it altered of course to your specifications. And changed the color as you specified in your last email.” 

“Thank you for that, and for allowing me to respond via email.” they usually don't allow that, preferring in-person meetings for non-overseas clients. The manager nods, he knows who Jimin is, and has seen the copious amount of media coverage in the last few weeks. Enough to suspect why Jimin might be busy, and also might have put a rush on this. But the jewelry designer is one he picked particularly for Its anonymity as well as for its high-end designers. 

The manager opens the velvet box carefully, and Jimin almost wants to sigh when he sees the engagement ring in the center, it’s hexagonal cut stones surrounded by a flurry of rose cuts in the shades of lightest pink. Glimmering in the lights. Jimin takes it, barely hesitating to feel the coolness of the stones. Already imagining it on your finger. Jimin nods, showing his approval before he slides your ring out of his pocket. 

“This is exactly what I had in mind, when can I have it sized?” 

(Please comment and reblog! Likes are nice, but they do little to support content creators!)

[thebestestboyo]

How Remus Started Working For Patton: Part Three

Masterpost

Tw: eating? I mean it mentions fries/Remus being Remus/Swearing/Panic attack

After these nights out, Remus usually enjoyed the feeling of being in control of his body. But this time, all he felt was sore. He had forgot all the stuff he did before he decided to flirt with a gang member. Several of which left bruises.

"I knew I shouldn't have picked a fight with that seagull."

"Which one is it that you hate again?" Virgil piped up from his spot on the couch, one of his earbuds out to listen for Remus. Ree couldn't see much of his face from how his dark bangs covered his eyes, the roots beginning to return to their natural blonde.

"That one with the black markings on it's back. It has a personal vendetta against me, I can FEEL IT."

"Or maybe you just keep provoking it? I keep telling you to stop trying to steal it's french fries, it's unsanitary, and, the french fries are cold and those are gross."

"But cold french fries are my favoriteeeeee."

"Then get some that aren't from a deranged seagull?"

"Ugh. That's no challenge though!" He hopped over the back of the couch, collapsing over Virg's legs. "I need to feel the rush of running away from an angry flock! Natural instincts! We as humans were made to hunt!"

"Not in this day and age. Species develop over time, and as far as I can remember, you can get french fries at any fast food joint." It was clear Virgil was humoring him, prodding at his face. "Though, I suppose it's better than you chasing after people for their french fries. I remember you used to do that when we were younger."

"Ugh, I would, but I got away with so much more things when I was small. Nowadays it's less like 'oh a rambunctious boy!' and more like 'what are you doing??? Why are you wearing a toga covered in marmalade and trying to take my fries?'"

Snickering, Virgil merely tweaked Remus's nose, before turning serious. Ree had expected this coming, it wasn't like Virg to let things go that easily. "As much as I love discussing how much of a gremlin you are, I still wanna talk to you about last night."

"Ughhhh but we were having such a nice timeeeeee."

"Remus."

"Fine. Its not like we can change anything about it! It already happened! And I got this weird-ass earring from it which may have brought me into a cult or whatever. And now I have to wear a different earring in the new piercing and clean it because otherwise will get infected!"

"..." Virgil merely raised an eyebrow, not amused at Remus's usual shenanigans.

"Okay I know I'm not taking this seriously, but come on. You have piercings. You know how new piercings are."

"This is serious though! What if they're planning to kidnap you or something??? What do we do then??"

This whole matter was clearly bothering him, and when Virgil got too stressed, it didn't exactly do wonders for his mental health.

"Hey. Its gonna be alright. Let's just..." Remus wracked his brain for something that might soothe him, finally coming upon a phrase he remembered Logan using when he was stuck on one of his experiments. "Think things through logically?"

Surprisingly, it did not end in Remus's ass getting kicked, and instead on a quiet Virgil, who simply nodded as he messed with his earbuds, trying to keep calm.

"So. What do we know."

"We know that these are dangerous people who know where we live."

"Ok, and we also know one of them is an absolute candied vescular organ!"

"You don't know for a fact that they're a sweetheart Remus." He wasn't even thrown off by Ree calling it that, clearly more anxious than he originally thought.

"I do! He was very..." Remus tried to think back to some of the phrases Roman used, since he couldn't use his own and have it sound good. "Charming. If you will."

"Oh boy, this gang member must be something if he has you borrowing words."

"Hey! I can use words like charming! It's not borrowing!"

"Uh huh sure. Next you'll be saying-"

He was cut off by the buzzing of their apartment's old doorbell, an outdated thing that sounded like drunk and angry hornets. Virgil absolutely hated it, resorting to knocking if he ever got locked out, while Remus delighted in it, annoying the other with the horrid sound whenever he came home.

"Who the fuck could that be?" Curious, Virgil gently pushed Remus off of him, going up to the door and attempting to see through the peephole, even though the glass was cloudy and cracked.

Ree saw him begin to fuss with his headphone wires, mouth pursing as he began to overthink who was on the other side. This always happened when they weren't expecting someone, and even when they were, it wasn't much better unless Remus got up and checked whoever it was first.

"Don't worry Virgy! I'll get the door."

"Oh thank god."

Unlatching the lock, he made sure to have Virgil move out of the way, joking that 'if you're standing right behind it, I might make your body into a pancake!' He was expecting their landlord, or perhaps a neighbor, and maybe even Logan or his brother, though that was doubtful. What he most certainly didn't expect, was-

"Patton?"

Pat was standing beside...someone? He wasn't exactly sure, but this guy was pretty tall, even considering Remus's own height. Tall, a little lanky, but there was something in Ree's instincts that told him that he'd lose to this guy in a fight, not even including that splotchy looking scar on his face.

But back to Patton, why was he here?

"Sorry for the sudden visit Remus, I just wanted to make sure you were doing okay after last night." Pat was fiddling with his hands as he spoke, delicate fingers picking at stray pieces of lint or something.

"Oh! Yeah, I had a bit of a hangover earlier, but otherwise I'm as right as a guy without his left hand!"

Oops. Tall dude was looking a little more sour at that. Maybe he should-

"Ha! Is it because he's got nothing left?" Patton giggled, cheeks flushing a little at his clever pun.

Ok, scratch that, whatever keeps Pat smiling was worth whatever that other guy was cooking up. To his surprise though, tall bro seemed pleased, glancing between them.

"Remus...." Virgil called from inside, voice shaking. That was a bad sign.

As much as he wanted to figure out the mystery man, and to talk with Pat, he knew that if he left Virgil alone right now, it wouldn't be good. Leaving the door open for the other two, he turned to see Virgil attempting to ground himself at the thought of these two strangers.

"Hey. Hey tarantula. Its all cool. Is touch good right now?"

A nod was the only response he got, which was better than nothing. Remus lifted Virgil up into his arms, letting him rest his head on his chest to hear his heartbeat.

"Can you try and match my breathing? 4-7-8 right?"

Another nod, and the clench of Virgil holding onto Remus's wrist.

It took a while, but eventually Virgil was calm enough to mumble to be let down from Remus's arms. Vee clearly wanted to rest after that, so he took him to his room, letting him lie down on the mattress before he went back to the other two, who he had forgotten to take care of beforehand.

"I had to take care of him." He wasn't about to apologise for watching after Vee, even if the big guy expected him to. "How about we talk outside? I wanna let him get some quiet after that."

Patton seemed stunned at this stark change, but nodded, and let Remus lock up the apartment before leading them down to the complex's garden. The other one didn't say anything, just wordlessly followed after.

When they were finally settled down in the outside seats, Patton burst out immediately. "I'm so sorry! We didn't mean to make your friend scared!"

"He'll be ok. He's never been especially good with new people. You're okay though Pat and...you are?"

Turning his head to glance over at the other guy, he was surprised to find that his eyes were different colors, one more of a dark brown, and the other yellow.

"Demetrius. But you know me as Dee."

"Ohhhhh you're that guy! That guy who lifted me!"

He seemed surprised that Remus remembered him, or maybe just that he wasn't pointing out the obvious here, that because of Dee and Pat, Remus was apperantly part of their gang.

"Yes, I am...that guy."

Patton stopped fussing with his overalls to look over at Dee, perking up at that answer. Did he even know how cute he was?? Sure, Virgil had said that he and this Dee guy were part of a gang, but he did not have the rights to be so impossibly pretty.

"You're probably wondering why you now have a tag in your ear, am I correct?" Dee cut into Remus's thoughts with his voice, stern.

"I assumed it wasn't just a kink thing." Winking at him, Ree leaned back against his chair, legs propped up on the table.

"No, it was not a 'kink thing.' It was to give you clearance into our home of sorts. Since Patton clearly-"

Remus couldn't tell exactly, but he though he saw Patton jabbed his arm into Dee's side? Or something?

"-wanted to talk to you more."

"Oh! Alright. I have no idea where you live."

"In hindsight, we should have told you about it. But first-" Dee pulled down the collar of his shirt, showing the beginning of a tattoo. An anaconda, wrapping around his neck and disappearing into his shirt. "-I assume you know who we are."

"Dee! That really isn't necessary!" Patton frowned, pinching at Dee's cheek like a mother would to a naughty child.

"We need to make sure he doesn't tell anyone!"

Rolling his eyes, Pat leaned over the small table, clasping Remus's hands in his. "We're not exactly on the police's good side you could say. We'd really appreciate it if you didn't tell them where we live?"

Was he making puppy eyes? And, were those sparkles on his cheeks or was Remus just seeing things??? He couldn't tell, the image of dissapointing Patton was too much for him either way. "Yeah, yeah sure."

"Wonderful!!!"

The sight of his smile was dizzying, god it felt more intoxicating than the strongest drug. Was this that heaven Roman was always going off about?

Dee cleared his throat, throwing Ree off again. How many times was he gonna interrupt his inner monologues??? "If you wouldn't mind, I'd like to hurry this moment up. I have a meeting later, and watching you two stare into each other's eyes isn't the best use of my time."

"Dee!"

"Not much of a voyager huh?" Remus wasted no time clearing the air, attempting to ignore the way his own face was beginning to turn red.

"Considering it's my brother, no."

While both him and Virgil had confirmed it, it was difficult for Remus to accept it. There was a couple similarities, sure, the way that their jaws sloped into soft lines, their hands, both worn with use, and their curly brown hair. But the glint in their eyes was different, not to mention the scars that seemed to line Dee more frequently than Pat, at least from what Remus could see.

"Can I grab my phone?"

"...grab your roommate too."

"What?"

"So he knows where you are."

"I'll see if he's okay, but it's not a guarantee."

Surprisingly, Virgil was already calm enough to answer Remus. "What the fuck would they want with me???"

"The big guy, Dee, said it's so you know where I am. I guess they'll want to suck out our brains together!"

"...as if they'd get anything from you. Your head is empty."

It was surprising that Virgil didn't fight about it, by his reaction earlier, Ree was almost certain that he wouldn't come.

The four met back up downstairs, Patton already chatting up a storm with Remus, leaving Virgil and Dee walking beside each other.

"What do you want with Remus?" Hushed, Virgil watched his friend and...Patton, walking ahead, the two already gushing to each other about who knows what.

"Oh I want nothing with Remus. My brother on the other hand has taken a liking to him."

"And that's enough to straight up make him part of your gang???"

Virgil couldn't believe this guy. Who the fuck does that??? Shoving his hands into his hoodie pocket, he continued staring ahead, not wanting to have to look at him.

"Well, I'd like to see you try and resist him. He can be very...persuasive."

"Oh am I gonna have to worry about him threatening me too?"

Demetrius (he felt weird thinking of him with the informal title of 'Dee,' when he already hated this guy's guts) seemed to bristle at that, and from the corner of his eye Virgil could tell he was glaring at him.

"Patton would never threaten someone!"

"Listen, considering your guys' jobs, I wouldn't be surprised if he did."

"Well if you're such a smart-ass, then why did you come along?"

"To make sure my friend didn't turn up on the news by the end of the day, why else?"

Demetrius shrugged off his leather jacket as they all walked, probably due to the afternoon heat. Virgil snuck a look over at him, about to make fun of him before he noticed that Oh Lord He Was Fit. He looked so lanky before though??? Where did those arms come from???

Demetrius didn't seem to notice Virgil's stare, or if he did, he ignored it, tying the jacket around his waist. "I doubt he'd be dead. You on the other hand, would not fare well under the gang."

"Oh you think I'd be useless???"

"No, just your pretty-boy ass would get torn to shreds."

"Oh so now you're saying I'm pretty." It was mocking, but he couldn't help a twinge of curiosity. Demetrius was handsome after all, even if he was a gang leader. But that was no excuse for him to fantasize! He probably killed people!

"Wha- no!!!"

"Mmhm sure."

The two continued bickering behind Patton and Remus's backs, the odd group traversing the city until they reached...well...home.

It certainly was going to be interesting...

[gibberingcultist]

The Forgotten Age

We think we know the history of the Earth, but there are secrets that lie beyond our reckoning and truths that could undo our entire understanding of the universe. When renowned historian Alejandro Vela discovers one of these secrets, the ruins of an ancient and forgotten Aztec city, it sets into motion a plot that could unravel the very fabric of time.

Designers: Matthew Newman Artists: Andreas Adamek, Justin Adams, W. T. Arnold, Borja Pindado Arribas, Cristi Balanescu (cover), + 55 more! Players: 1-4 (best at 3 per BGG). But I would say Arkham Horror LCG is always best at 2 players. Playtime: 60-120 minutes per scenario. BGG Weight: 3.86 / 5 Mechanisms: Action Point Allowance System, Cooperative Play, Deck / Pool Building, Hand Management, Role Playing, Variable Player Powers

I am so far behind schedule on all these Arkham Horror LCG expansions and mythos pack reviews. The Dream-Eaters Cycle was recently released and already FFG has two more Arkham Horror LCG box expansions planned for the near future. The Innsmouth Conspiracy and potentially something called The War of the Outer Gods. We shall see if that second title is accurate or not in due time. Either way I can already see the money draining from my wallet like venom from a serpent’s fangs.

This will actually be my second time playing through The Forgotten Age expansion. The first time was with a party of three and we had no idea what we were getting ourselves into. I found my first overall experience with TFA to be a incredibly frustrating. It was a grueling, torturous journey through the Mexican rain forest. We picked all the wrong supplies for all the wrong characters it seemed.

So after it was all said and done, I was pretty sure that I wasn’t ever going to play this expansion again. But with recently finishing The Circle Undone and not having all the mythos packs for the Dream-Eaters Cycle in my possession, I caved and returned to base camp to go on the expedition all over again. This time with a better idea of what will be needed. Characters with very high agility and well…. blankets. Why didn’t my first expedition group take basic bedding with them?! I’m surprised we even had boots on our feet, we were so unprepared for survival in the outdoors. Hopefully the second time through will be a little smoother.

We think we know the history of the Earth, but there are secrets that lie beyond our reckoning and truths that could undo our entire understanding of the universe. When renowned historian Alejandro Vela discovers one of these secrets, the ruins of an ancient and forgotten Aztec city, it sets into motion a plot that could unravel the very fabric of time.

So as I already mentioned, knowing how important agility is for your investigators; my girlfriend and I selected the two investigators from the The Forgotten Age campaign with the highest agility (feetsies). These two also seemed to have the highest potential for the most bonus actions in a round, which is always a good thing to have in this god-forsaken game. We chose Ursula Downs and Finn Edwards. We can’t help but think that Finn is really just allowing himself to be employed by Ursula to get himself away from some sort of shady business dealings back home. Or to make a hefty profit selling all of our equipment and provisions. Because why else wouldn’t we have blankets?! I swear that stuff is getting stolen from under us.

“I have had it with these motherfucking snakes in this motherfucking jungle!” The pit vipers aren’t too bad as long as you are as spry and nimble as Ursula and Finn. We were able to stay ahead of the sneks by constantly moving and clearing each location of clues as quickly as possible. The Boa was a bigger concern as he was hunting us through most the scenario. We don’t plan on killing anything with vengeance points. IF we can help it that is. Neither of us really had any weapons readied during this scenario anyway. Just the trench coat on our backs and the track shoes on our feet. We were bouncing all over the jungle like gummy bears hopped up on Ayahuasca juice (is that a thing?).

Once confronted by Ichtaca, Keeper of the Etzli, we really had no choice but to parlay with her. I’m not sure why Alejandro Vela is so opposed to working with the locals (at this point in the game). Sounds like he’s part of the White Savior Industrial Complex. We discovered the Etzli ruins, thanks to Ichtaca and left behind a wake of snakes (very much alive mind you) and watchful Guardians. Rushing exploration and clue gathering was the way to go for this scenario. Very thematic and fun.

In this first scenario, one gets introduced to the exploration deck. Where one could potentially lose his/her movement actions based on what cards are randomly drawn from a small shuffled deck. A deck consisting of a handful of treacheries mixed in with a variety of potentially discoverable locations. I guess I don’t mind the exploration deck mechanic. More times than not, we will unluckily draw all the treachery cards rather quickly. So we take the explore action early knowing full well that we are going to draw treachery cards. After all the treachery cards have been randomly drawn and discarded, THEN we can explore without fear or consequence. And that’s a great feeling.

Welp. So much for trying to maintain zero vengeance points. Yig’s fury went from 0 to 5 in just one scenario. We were rapidly overwhelmed with serpent humanoids and barely got out of the Etzli temple with the Relic of Ages in hand. It’s almost as if investigators were meant to die/lose this scenario. Ursula suffered a mental trauma after being hounded by Yig’s minions every step of the way. Her treachery card was what did her in though. She was unable to heed the Call of the Unknown after taking such a beating from the treachery filled exploration deck.

We both found this scenario too frustrating. The difficulty ramped up to 11 and we were still ill prepared for such things. None of our weapons were even drawn during this game, so once again we just had to keep moving. Trying our best to stay ahead of the wave of snake creatures. The only reason Finn was able to get out of the temple, after snagging the Relic of Ages, was because he was lucky enough to draw his I’m outta here! card right when he needed it most. There was no way he was going to make it past the 7 or 8 monsters in his linear path. This relic better be worth it.

….Aaand it’s gone. We lost the relic. Or Harlan did. Whoever the fuck he is. We chose to keep the relic safe by giving it to some rando in passing. Then we are shocked when the supposedly trusty vagabond up and leaves town. Great.

Threads of Fate was another rather frustrating scenario with a ungodly amount of enemies. The moment we were able to eliminate just one of the Haunting Nightgaunts terrorizing us, we would advance the agenda deck, reshuffle the discard pile, only to draw the very same Haunting Nightguant! GAH! These guys are tough as well, 4HP, running away from them is hard due to doubling the negative modifiers. Terrifying creatures.

It was neat that there were multiple Acts or multiple storylines (threads) to follow and investigate. We were only able to fully complete one of the three but at least the scenario still rewarded us for making an attempt at the others. In that you receive some bonus experience points for just getting past Act 1 of each deck. Alejandro Vela was rescued and now resides in one of our decks. I would have preferred to have the Relic but circumstances prevented us from making it so.

Wait, it was all a dream?! But I consumed actual gas in driving to this fever dream. I want my gas supply point back. The Boundary Beyond would be strike 3 for us. Another overly frustrating scenario with too many monsters and a damn near impossible end goal. We were suppose to lose weren’t we? Considering we only managed to get 3 out of the 6 locations explored correctly, and then wiped of clues before being overwhelmed by enemies. The added penalties for exploring was very rough and we felt it… hard. Like for instance, one location forced you to take a physical damage to take the explore action. Which inevitably resulted in drawing a treachery card, making the damage you received to draw the treachery even more painful. So consume another precious action, take another physical damage, and try your luck again!

The Harbinger of Valusia once again made his appearance known. A damn near impossible enemy to combat while also trying to achieve your necessary win condition. With Alert and Retaliate active even when exhausted, the Harbinger is going to just decimate anyone interested in doing any amount of damage to him. Especially book nerds like us. We were able to inflict 2 damage on him though before getting TKO’ed. 2 damage out of his 20hp! I feel like we should be further down on his health track. Ugh.

During set-up, players are instructed to set aside the Agenda 3 and Act 3 cards. I imagine this is to mislead the players about the intended length of the scenario? And well… it worked! During what we thought was our very last turn (before the agenda would advance), we both made some hail mary plays to try and acquire as many clues/locations as possible before ending the scenario. Only to find out, the scenario wasn’t over. By the time we realized we had more rounds at our disposal, we were either already eliminated or stuck in some impossible situation. I can see that designers are looking to subvert players expectations in whatever means possible, but this ended up just frustrating my girlfriend to the point that she considered quitting the campaign all together. She is calling AH-LCG an abusive relationship. Wondering why we keep going back to it.

The Story So Far

Wait. Why are we back in the jungle again?! Let’s recap. Going back a few scenarios, we uncovered information on a secret cabal, called the Brotherhood, who had interests in the Eztli relic (missing!). This Brotherhood also had a great deal of information on Alejandro’s previous expedition into the Mexican rain forest. According to Ichtaca, the Brotherhood is seeking a place called the Nexus of N’kai. OK fine. So without any other bit of information given by Ichtaca, we set off on another expedition back to the relic’s original location. For what I imagine is to seek out additional clues in regards to the power behind the relic.

During our road trip to Mexico City, Alejandro voices his opinion that the documented symbols adorning the relic is not of Mayan or Aztec heritage. Hmm…ok.

We putz around Mexico for a while, eating lots of fish tacos and drinking lots of margaritas (or so I imagine), but doing not much else. A week later, Ichtaca FINALLY decides it’s time perform some sort of cryptic incantation, alone in her room. An event that results in a dream like scenario which gives us some insight. Insight into (Tenochtitlan locations?) a cave that Ichtaca believes is the path that leads to the Nexus. She wants us to go with. Do we have time to grab some Pozole before we go? I think so.

Part 1

The first half of the Heart of the Elder’s mythos pack seems more of a catch-up scenario. Because we only received insight on 3 of the 6 paths/stone pillars outside the cave, we had to spend some days trying to decode the other 3. The stone pillars are essentially the lock tumblers allowing access to the cave maw.

I find it hard to believe Ichtaca had been running all over this jungle, secretly protecting the relic from outsiders, and never once discovered or learned about this cave. And if she did know of it, why did it take so long for her to explore it? And it she did explore it, why didn’t she know the 6 paths from the start?! Gah!

We did not like this part of the scenario. It felt like another throw away scenario that really wasn’t needed. It took two attempts at it to get the remaining 3 paths. Our first day/attempt resulted in no additional paths and Ursula ended up dying to the snake monsters. On the second day, a replay of the same scenario mind you, we had much better luck in not drawing snake monsters to hound us the entire time. So that helped us focus on clue gathering. The whole idea of playing the same scenario over and over again until you achieve some specific goal, rubs me the wrong way. Repetition in this regard is no fun. We also were annoyed that progressing the Act deck, which is normally a good thing to advance, significantly hampered our overall goal. So on the second day, knowing that it would be detriment to advance the Act deck, we advanced it only when we were ready to take on the additional headache.

Part II

After we gained access to the cave, we had a good spelunking time getting clues and discovering locations. It’s as if clue gathering is what we excel at. We lucked out on drawing a minimal amount of enemies during the mythos phase. Which helped us deal with everything else thrown at us. We felt like we had plenty of time to achieve the overall objective and we got a heck of a lot of XP from this scenario (both parts 1 and 2). Which makes the sting of part 1 a little less so. Part 2’s flavor text alludes to a Journey to the Center of the Earth type inner world, taking place below ours. Which is kind of neat.

The end of the scenario was a little confusing. Alejandro betrayed us?! He was working in unison or is commanding some sort of alien race to find and gain access to Yoth, cavern of the serpents? Why? I take it Alejandro is a member of the Brotherhood, which would explain why they had information on Alejandro’s expedition. It was information of the inside variety lols. My girlfriend thought the entire campaign was over after reading “It is your last human memory.” So we just died?! Not quite.

Alejandro was working with scientific, alien creatures? Hah! So we got mind-swapped with a couple Yithians and mentally transported to some unknown location beyond space and time that acts as a mass-information compiler. What are the aliens doing with our physical bodies right now? The other aliens didn’t seem to mind us wandering around their utopian society. That is until we fucked with their experiments. I suppose we would be the real aliens at this point. We had a lot of fun playing this scenario. This would be the first time, in publication order, that your investigator’s card gets swapped out for another scenario specific one. The next instance of this taking place during the prologue of The Circle Undone campaign. Both enjoyable experiences.

We slithered around, doing our best to hold on to our items with our noodly appendages. We did manage to perform all six of the necessary intellectual pursuits before mind-melding back into our original bodies. AKA we were a rightful pains in the ass. 9 xp from this scenario! So that’s very nice. This scenario required a lot of card-play. Mostly we used our cards just for the modifier icons to pass tests. As your Yithian character card allowed for the doubling of icons for one card per test. This coupled with our ever reducing max-hand size, made the end goal of holding 10 cards at once a rather tricky puzzle to figure out. We would not have achieved this goal had it not been for our new pen-pal, the Custodian, and the best room in the house, the Yithian Orrery.

What were we suppose to do with the Out of Body Experience treachery cards? I was never instructed in the setup but I feel like these should have been shuffled into our decks at some point. The backside of the Yithian investigator cards have Do you remember…? in the Deckbuilding Requirements section. So maybe it was a mistake in that these treachery cards should have been included in our decks to start. Not sure. We didn’t utilize them. This will probably be corrected in the Return to.

Now lets see what Alejandro and his alien buds were up to while we took a mental holiday.

I hear people play this scenario just to see how far down into the depths they can get before they are torn to shreds. We got to level 5 (the bare minimum) and immediately got the hell out of there! One could get a significant amount of XP on this scenario though. If everyone is well suited for fighting monsters and dealing with the ever growing pain that is the chaos bag. We on the other hand are NOT well suited for dealing with monsters. Besides running away from them. Finn Edwards recently purchased a Ornate Bow which has been pretty damn effective at eliminating a bunch of annoying or persistent enemies. Enemies with the Hunter trait mostly. Lets hope the next scenario is more about getting clues and not fighting a Boss of some kind.

The Depths of Yoth is an alright concept for a scenario but just like in a previous scenario (The Heart of the Elders Part 1) you essentially just play the same mini-game multiple times. At least with this scenario, with the reset between floors/levels, the locations are randomized. Your starting location and which locations are available will be slightly different between floors. We quickly learned which icon to look for in order to find the Steps of Yoth (how to progress). And I’m so confused on what’s going on in the over-arching story that we don’t even care anymore. Both Ichtaca and Alejandro have turned on us and want the Relic of Ages for different reasons. Ichtaca, I believe wants to awaken Yoth for some terrible reason. Hopefully it will all make more sense after the next scenario.

We finished! …thank God/Yig. We did get an above-average ending. Resolution 1 if that does anything for you. We lost the original Relic of Ages so we didn’t get the best ending but we refused the tempting offers from both Ichtaca and Alejandro Vela and went about mending the tear in the fabric of time…ourselves somehow. Luckily for us, The Relic of Ages was rediscovered in A Pocket of Time which I suppose makes sense that we traveled through time and found a earlier/later version of the one we lost. I’m always impressed with the final scenarios of each of the major campaigns. This one was no different. The story seemed to come together. Both Ichtaca (Yig worshiper) and Alejandro (Yithian in disguise) had ulterior motives which is understandable. I liked that we could have sided with either of them to change the world as we know it forever.

We didn’t kill a single enemy this scenario. Besides those EZ-PZ cultists. So we were once again dogged by a myriad of serpent & elite enemies. We were use to though after the sixth or seventh scenario where that happened this campaign. Finn Edwards handled running away from 5 different monster enemies himself, each round for two or three rounds. One free evade, three normal evade actions, and a Leo De Luca evade action. While Ursula Downs worked vigorously at exploring and clearing clues from as many shattered locations as possible. Taking damage and horror when necessary. It worked. I can’t wait to go back to playing some Guardian and Survivor class characters. Or really anyone with dynamite

We don’t officially get to play the bonus, secret mission because we lost the Relic of Ages from our timeline but we will play it anyway just to see what it’s like. Going on the assumption that we didn’t hand a complete stranger one of the most powerful objects in the known universe. So we will play that next and I will report on it here.

Man, fuck this game. We got devoured by Yig pretty quickly in our attempt to undo our past mistakes. Turn Back Time has a cool concept but this scenario is not designed with pacifists like us in mind. It’s tough! Arm yourself to the teeth before entering the Eztli Ruins again! We didn’t REALLY deserve to unlock this scenario and we are going to continue acting like this scenario never happened. Our own form of time travel.

Now that we are done with this campaign we will play a Return To… or start The Dream-Eaters cycle and hope that our last Mythos pack gets delivered very soon.

In Summary

Of all the Arkham Horror campaigns that I’ve played, The Forgotten Age is and will remain my least favorite. With that said I was impressed by how many of the scenarios ended up having a decently high personal rating. This tells me that the scenarios themselves aren’t bad but the over-arching story and mechanisms introduced are what leaves a foul malignancy festering in my mind when contemplating The Forgotten Age. Mainly due to the frustrations with the exploration deck, the supply point system (never having what you need), and having to suffer the ridiculous amount of serpent creatures all looking to settle their poisonous fangs into your meaty neck. The Harbinger of Valusia is still out there, slithering around the jungle with a whopping 18 HP! Good luck with that Mexico.

Final Score (Avg)

[negasonicimagines]

I Led the Revolution in my Bedroom (And I Set all the Zippers Free)

request: ellie x reader hate sex that turns to love PLEASEEEEE it’s such a hot trope pls

synopsis: When Ellie’s paired up with her worst enemy for a school project, things go a bit differently than expected. | Hurricane by Panic! at the Disco

warnings & details: smut (duh), daddy kink, hate sex, swearing, degradation, choking, consent is implied but not as explicit as I usually write it and that is later discussed; however, this is NOT noncon (or even dubcon as far as I know), I just thought it was worth mentioning in the context of a hatesex fic. (However, it is discussed later when Ellie worries she might have gone too far in hindsight.) Overall, this fic just isn’t for the faint of heart when it comes to kink and sexual content and mental health issues.

author’s note: there’s something wrong with us, my thirsty Ellie thots… Also, sorry the ending is rushed. I wanted to get this out and didn’t know how to end it.

There’s just something about you that makes her fucking burn. It hasn’t been literal for a while, but as Ellie watches you flirt with some dorky chick who doesn’t know better, it nearly becomes that way. 

Ellie is against slut-shaming, truly, but there’s something about the way you womanize - something about it that makes her so goddamn angry - that she just can’t put her finger on. Maybe it’s that you already get whatever you want because of your mutation that pisses Ellie off to no end: your own room with an attached bathroom (those are typically reserved for people who share a room), money, perfect grades, perfect anything without effort. It’s not fair that you get whoever you want, too. 

She knows better than to think you’d influence someone to consent with your powers, of course, you’re not that much of a fucking scumbag, but you have your ways of using them to your advantage. Ellie has first-hand experience, from when you flirt with her to make her uncomfortable. (Well, you’ve never outright said it’s to do that… But she can connect the dots. You look… You’re objectively attractive, and Ellie doesn’t see herself as such.) 

“Alright, to your seats, everyone,” the teacher requests, and the girl you were flirting with finally scrams. That was an additionally confusing thing; when you flirt with these unsuspecting girls, Ellie is also frustrated with them for being flirted with. Ellie hates being confused - so she hates you even more for this. 

“It’s Monday, which sucks, I know, but I have an exciting announcement to make! You’re going to be creating a project this week, in partners! I will be picking them for you, but the partnerships are based on who I think will make a good team, so you shouldn’t be too disappointed. When I call you and your partner, the two of you can get your rubrics - and your story or poem - and sit together, so no one get too comfortable.” She begins to call the different partnerships, and Ellie’s head perks up at her own name, but it’s followed by yours.

“What the fuck?” She blurts, and the teacher gives her a wary look, but says nothing to her when she approaches. 

“Well, this is interesting,” you note, and Ellie scoffs. The teacher explains that the assignment is for each pair to read the short story or poem they were assigned and create a piece of art based on the story, as well as write an essay explaining how the art piece relates to the story. 

“So, maybe we could each do half the assignment?” you suggest once the teacher’s done explaining. 

“That’s a stupid fucking idea, how are you supposed to know how the artwork relates to the story for the essay if you didn’t make the work yourself?” 

“Yeah, I guess you’re right. Unless the person making the artwork took notes,” you argue.

“Seriously? More work for me? Nice try,” Ellie remarks with another scoff. You’re not as smooth as you think you are.

“I never said you’d have to make the art,” you retort.

”What? Did you think you’d get to paint another monstrosity like the one outside of Mr. Rasputin’s classroom and screw this up for both of us? Look, I’m not in the mood to fail. I’ll do both parts if you just shut the fuck up,” Ellie snarks, not in the mood to deal with you today. She gets a weird pang of hurt that doesn’t seem to fit in with anything, and your posture suddenly straightens. The teacher eyes you for a moment. Ellie doesn’t know why, so she ignores it.

“Oh, so you can tell the teacher you did all the work and I’ll get a zero? No thanks. I guess we’ll have to figure something out after reading the story and independently brainstorming, which I’d like to do for the rest of the class so I don’t have to listen to your bitching. Just meet me at my dorm later.” 

“No, you meet me at mine.”

“Whatever, I don’t care! You’re such a fucking brat, jeez,” you insult, picking up the paper the story’s printed on and looking it over. Ellie, also wanting to read it, yanks it away from you. “Hey!”

“Hi,” Ellie coldly replies. 

“Hi,” you mock in a low, goofy tone. “I’m Ellie and I think I’m so cool because I’m mean.”

“What are you, twelve?” 

“If I was, some people would be in a lot of trouble,” you respond with a snicker. “Including you.”

“Ew,” is all she says in reply as she looks over the poem. A Poison Tree by William Blake. 

“It’s one of my favorites,” you comment off-handedly.

“What, you read poetry?”

“I read Blake, Poe, and Sappho, yeah, but that’s about it.”

“I’m supposed to believe you read Edgar Allan Poe?” 

“He’s not exactly an undiscovered genius, and I do have hobbies other than flirting with pretty girls like you. Calm your fucking tits.”

“My tits are plenty calm,” Ellie - rather dorkily, upon second thought - retorts with a glare, putting the paper down between you both. 

You just chuckle, afterwards getting out some notebook paper and jotting down notes. Ellie does the same, but waits a while before doing so - so that you don’t say anything about her copying you.The rest of the class is just the two of you shooting bitchy looks at each other and scribbling. She gets up before you do when the bell rings, stomping out. 

Later, after school, her anger continues to simmer on the back burner. After she slams her door and tosses her backpack onto her bed, there’s a knock on her door.

“What?” she groans, plopping down on the edge of her bed and slouching.

“We kinda have a project to work on, and you said I had to come to your room. Remember?”

“Of course I remember, I’m not stupid like you,” Ellie insults. “Just come in.”

“And yet I’m the one who has an idea of what to do for the art piece…” You comment as you enter, closing the door behind you and leaning against it. She straightens her posture before you can remark on it.

“Who says I don’t have an idea?” 

“Well, do you?” You wonder, smirking at Ellie’s loss for words. 

“No, but I bet nothing’s better than whatever horseshit you came up with,” Ellie doesn’t hold back now that it’s just the two of you. 

“I think it’d be interesting if we made a short comic where the narrator and the subject of the narrator’s hatred were the same person, but the reader doesn’t know until the end.”

Well, that actually is a pretty good idea… Ellie thinks. No!

“That is the dumbest thing I’ve heard in my fucking life. God, I bet you’re not even a mutant. You’re just a succubus who had your brain removed on the same contract that cost you your soul,” Ellie remarks, and you scoff. 

“At least you’re clever, even if you’re an asshole who doesn’t know how to have fun,” you argue.

“You’re so immature.”

“And you’re so pretentious.”

“You’re a fucking idiot.”

“You’re a rude fucking prick.”

“You’re a bastard!”

“I bet you’re still a virgin,” you remark, pushing off the door and ambling the short distance towards her, getting close before finishing: “And it’s only because of your personality.”

“And I bet the reason you stay home during summer break is only because you’re so annoying that your family doesn’t think it’s worth it to fly you out of state,” Ellie spats back, hoping she’s not blushing as hard as she feels like she is at your proximity, your words.

“Bitch,” you curse, and Ellie rises up. You stumble back, and that fills her with just a little more confidence than it should.

“Whore.”

“Oh, wow! Everybody, gather ‘round, feminist crusader Ellie Phimister herself just fucking slut-shamed. God, you are such a hypocritical fucking cunt!” You wander backwards to where you were standing before as you rant, not taking into account the fact that Ellie’s following you. She shoves you into the door, lips hard against yours and hands grabbing at your face, grabbing again a little further back so that they’re in your hair. 

She’s so rough - too rough, in the best way. 

“Finally,” you breathe once she’s no longer holding your lips captive. 

“Shut up,” Ellie replies, and that’s something you can do. She grabs you by the shoulders and turns you, pushing you onto her bed before straddling you and kissing you again… And again… And again… She gropes your chest greedily, unfiltered want surging between the both of you. 

It’s rather lackluster foreplay, but somehow her just ripping and groping and taking what she wants from you makes it even better, she doesn’t even care to butter you up before harshly unbuttoning your jeans and-

“Oh,” you moan softly. She curls her fingers experimentally, and you can’t help but admire the focused expression on her face before you remember that you’re supposed to hate her, too. She continues to curl them and your head falls back onto the pillow. 

She slides her fingers out of you and circles the tips of a couple on your clit. Your own digits curl into the sheets and when her hand wraps around your neck you can’t help yourself.

“Daddy,” you keen.

“Daddy, seriously? What the fuck is wrong with you?”

“S-sorry, ha, Ellie,” you moan as she slides her fingers in deeper, your right knee lifting to take her in some more.

“Did I say to stop?” She squeezes your throat - only minimally restricting airflow (so far) and creating the most delightful ache - and you shake your head. “God, I could just squeeze the fucking life out of you.”

“You didn’t- Ugh, please, Daddy,” you whine as she clenches harder with her statement and keeps fucking you with those - despite their thinness and shortness - enjoyable digits of hers. “Harder, Daddy, oh god, fuck, don’t stop.” 

“I won’t fucking stop, you dirty fucking slut, take my fucking fingers.” 

Your hips rock against her hand and you paw at her shoulders, eventually clutching her trademark jacket as you gasp and squirm. 

If Ellie wasn’t enjoying herself before - she totally was - she definitely is now as you lose control of your powers, giving her two perceptions of the event taking place: she maintains her own, but experiences yours dually. It’s overwhelming in more ways than one, far more intimate than either of you anticipated this being - not to mention it’s intense in a sensory aspect. 

She tightens her grip on your throat to get her bearings as she swears and moans, curling her fingers inside of you and experiencing just how fucking good it feels as well. The world is dancing in and out of your shared sight due to your asphyxiation, but Ellie needs this as she continues to clench those appendages so deep and feel it like it’s happening to her as well. 

Ellie moves her fingers to your swollen clit on instinct, feeling just how close you are and stroking fast. She moans before you do when the orgasm hits, clutching your neck for purchase and moaning with you; your name, her name, curses and apologies and gratified fragments. She continues to tease your clit until she squeaks with overstimulation, tearing her hands from you before you pass out due to oxygen deprivation. 

Your perception slips away from hers quickly as you come down and Ellie feels so fucking empty without it, without your pain on her neck and the feeling of being absolutely fucked inside of her. You pant out more apologies with drooping eyes. 

“No, no, that was…” Ellie offers a trembling sigh. You weakly nod in understanding.

Ellie finds herself studying your flesh a little more: tracing her fingertips on the clearly sore parts of your neck, touching at the strip of stomach and hint of your mound visible due to both your shirt riding up and your pants being unbuttoned. 

“Just a second, I’ll- I’ll take care of you,” you offer.

“No, uh… I’m taken care of,” Ellie reassures with a nervous bit of scoffing. 

And then it hits her why she doesn’t like you flirting with other girls; why your flirting with her made her stomach do a flip. Why she expressed her anger by shoving her fingers inside your most delicate place as opposed to shoving her fist into your face. 

She likes you. A lot. She wants to do this again and again, gentler and rougher and feeling it the whole time.

The next thing to hit her is a wave of guilt, crashing over her as she continues to examine your spent body. You almost fainted.

“You sure? I- I won’t choke you or anything, I’m not really a sadist, uh, physically,” you extend the offer again with some reassurance.

“Physically?” Ellie can’t help but wonder. 

“Well, I don’t mind the thought of edging someone, or teasing them ‘til they just can’t take it anymore, obviously, but… What’s it matter to you, anyway?” 

“Just curious. In case this happens again or something,” Ellie plays it off.

“Oh, I don’t think I could ever top that, I just wanted to at least get you off in return,” you confess. 

“You do know what happened, right?” She questions.

“Well, yeah, but it wasn’t real for you,” you tell her, and there’s a certain sort of sadness there in your tone. It flickers within her as well, and she recognizes it from earlier in the day. 

“Are you okay?” Ellie honestly wonders. She’s always been envious of your powers, never realizing just how difficult it must be to constantly keep your reality from seeping into the minds of everyone else; how torturous it must be in that room by yourself when your nightmares are just a little more real than the dreams of everyone else…

How lonely you must be, different from everyone else, even the people who are supposed to be like you. No wonder you’re such a flirt, you must be desperate to make a connection, to be less isolated. 

“Umm… Sure?” No one ever asks you that.

“Are you?” With such a strange answer, Ellie can’t help but push. 

“Yeah, just- Nothing.” You’re smiling, though, as you head to the bathroom. 

Ellie thinks some more, sitting on the edge of her bed. Has she ruined her chances by doing what she did with you? You’re the opposite of unhappy about it, but maybe that’s because it was - as far as you know - with no strings attached? 

She feels so stupid that she didn’t notice it before, the way your smile makes her cheeks burn and how she can’t even look at you in that one skirt. How when you toss your hair and giggle at another girl, envy is what pools in her chest, not fury. 

When you come out, she says your name. 

“What?” you ask, and it makes her feel raw how you suddenly look and act like nothing’s happened, disguising those forming bruises on your neck and having fixed your bedhead. You look like she didn’t just feel all of you as herself, like you weren’t just shaking underneath her and calling her that, like… 

“Y/N,” she repeats. 

“I- I didn’t break you, did I? Let me-” Your hands outstretch prematurely, you’re ready to touch at her temples to peer inside and she’s almost tempted to let you just to make the connection again, but...

Ellie shakes her head. Have you broken someone? Have you broken yourself? It would explain the way you float from girl to girl saying things that mean nothing to either of you. You wouldn’t want to risk hurting or being hurt. 

“You didn’t.” 

“Then why aren’t you calling me stupid or telling me to get out?” you wonder. 

“Because I don’t think you’re stupid, and I don’t want you to leave,” Ellie says. 

“You’re kidding,” you state rather than joke. She shakes her head. “What do you want, then?” 

“You.”

“Oh… So you’ve finally embraced it.” She wants to kiss that smirk off your face again. You take a seat next to her.

“Didn’t realize there was anything to embrace, until…” Ellie admits, lifting her hand - which she should probably go wash. 

“Oh- Oh my gods, Eleanor Phimister!” you playfully scold with a scoff.

She nods, a bit ashamed of her level of dumbassery while you giggle. 

“And you call me stupid…” 

“To be fair, I thought you were flirting with me just to piss me off.”

“Oh my god, you think you were pissed off. That’s adorable.” It’s almost infuriating to her how genuinely endearing you seem to find that. 

“What was I, then?” Ellie asks in a sort of protest. 

“Flustered,” you tell her. Like it was obvious. Oh, it was so obvious, she realizes. 

“That does make more sense, but- But…” 

“But what? With all the pent-up sexual frustration in your eyes, It’s honestly surprising you didn’t jump my bones sooner. Do you even jerk off?”

Ellie scoffs, but can’t help but feel more than a little embarrassed. 

“Not really… Some of us have to train and stuff, and it’s tiring Can’t all have perfect control of our powers.”

“You of all people should know my control isn’t perfect,” you retort, seemingly always able to dismantle her defenses. You seem more somber now, Ellie realizes she probably made a mistake in calling your control perfect, reminding you of the times it wasn’t.

“True,” Ellie admits. “Um, so… What are we now?”

You shrug. 

“What’s that mean?” She wonders. You just shrug again. “Y/N. Seriously.” 

“I don’t know. I don’t really care.”

“You don’t… Care? But we just…”

“And that was your decision.”

“Wait, you’re not saying…? I didn’t... Um, did I, um-?” Ellie thinks she might be sick, not bothering to hold back the horror on her face. Her dark eyes are wide and glittering more than usual with almost-tears, mouth slightly agape and bottom lip trembling. Her iconic eyebrows are furrowed slightly and you quickly take her shaking hands. 

“No!” you quickly shut that train of thought down. “No, of course not, I’m sorry, that’s not what I meant at all. I just meant… It never would’ve happened if you hadn’t initiated things. You didn’t do anything wrong.”

“I choked you with my bare hands and called you a slut and whore and-”

“And I liked it a lot, sweetie, no need to brag,” you laugh it off, squeezing her hands. 

“But- It wasn’t right, not like that. It wasn’t a scene or anything like that.”

“Ooh, look who’s brushed up on her BDSM vocabulary...” you tease.

“Stop making jokes!” she snaps, and you flinch, ripping your hands from hers. “I’m... Y/N.” Her expression softens, but you’ve tucked into yourself, to be as far from her as possible without getting up from where you sit on the edge of the bed with her. “I’m sorry. I have… Anger issues. Clearly. I’m working on them. I’m really sorry.”

“It’s fine, I just overreacted,” you brush off her apology, which is even more frustrating, but she just brushes off the brushing off in hopes of getting back on topic. 

“The reason I wanna talk about this stuff is ‘cause- Because I don’t want to be enemies anymore. I like you, a lot. I get it if you only wanted this whole whatever to be just a one-time thing, but-”

“Ellie, I’m not the only person with my abilities. I’m not even the only girl. I mean, that is the only reason you want me, isn’t it?” Ellie shakes her head, throat tightening in sympathy - a feeling she’s steadily getting used to the more she talks to you. “Then what could it possibly be?”

“You’re funny, you clearly know me better than I know myself, you’re Y/N fucking L/N, A.K.A- non-literally -the hottest girl in school… The real question is, what could you possibly want to do with me?”

“Well, I mean, you’re a challenge. Not just that, but… I mean, you could probably beat me up, even though you’re really tiny and adorable. I find that attractive in a woman. And… You’re not so boring yourself, either. Like, Quentin, at lunch last week?  Impressive. And you’re smart as a whip, too. And-”

“That’s enough,” Ellie half-heartedly chuckles, flustered at the outpouring of compliments. 

“Right.” You smile knowingly.

“So, uh… What now?” Ellie wonders.  

“I don’t know. Whatever you want, I guess.”

“I already said I like you, that I want you,” Ellie says - and it’s true that she did - but this time it feels stronger. 

“Yeah, well, I’ve heard that a lot of different times with a lot of different meanings, so, if you don’t mind being a little more clear? Like, do you want to just hate-fuck regularly? Or be friends with benefits? Or just do it sometimes when we’re bored, or?”

“Um… I want you to be my girlfriend,” Ellie says, hurting even more for you that you think when someone says they want you, they just want your body.

“Oh! Okay,” you agree, like it’s simple, like you didn’t hate-fuck and then partially unpack some weird emotional shit on both sides, and then decide this.

“Okay?!”

“Yeah. Okay. I’ll be your girlfriend,” you confirm. 

“Well, okay…”

“Okay,” you reply brightly. “That’s settled then. Wanna make out?”

“Sure.”