#made myself som food!

[unbearableblog]

My Christmas gift for you.

Messages (Carmen Berzatto x reader)

Summary Carmy’s actions towards the reader might eventually lead to consequences.

Word count ~2,8k

Warnings 18+, No use of Y/N (there is rarely a name but it’s just for aesthetics, you are welcome to insert your own name), action set in S2 so possible spoilers, cursing, angst, relationship problems, possible mentions of smut

A/N God this took a lot from me! Legit flew to Copenhagen haha. I am very grateful to each and every one of you who read, liked, commented or reposted and supported this! I would never think that this would happen. I hope you’re not going to crucify me over the plot. Thank you so much for waiting!

Merry Christmas everyone!

Chapter 1 (the one with departure, Denmark, and desserts)

Things were a little different at the Beef lately.

“Richie, shut the fuck up!”

“You first, child!”

Well, maybe not so different. But they certainly were different with you. Amongst the neverending screaming, cursing, and fighting, you somehow survived getting shot at, losing the power, dealing with the IRS, and everything else that constantly went wrong with this cursed place. The amount of experience you had in this short amount of time has topped anything you've done before. You couldn't catch your breath. But that's what you do for the ones you love, right?

It's been some time since you started helping Carmen with the Beef - serving the customers on a particularly busy day, calming down Carmen, sometimes giving Richie a pep talk when he needed to keep his shit together. But mostly you just chatted with Sydney and sat in the kitchen, doing your college assignments while watching Carmen work. You could never get tired of it - he looked so professional and smart. It was his element. Well, when everything was going well.

The entire time, you were there, talking to Carmen as he prepped for the day, giving him a smile and getting one back, just watching him go on about his day and move so swiftly like a well-oiled machine. Seeing him in an apron drove you wild. You'd have to stop yourself from going up to him and touching his god-given curls or rubbing his back through his white T-shirt (but more often you failed to do so). Most of the days you patiently waited to go home and show him everything that was on your mind all day.

One time he caught you staring, mind far away from the Beef. His voice brought you back.

“Are you thinking about my fingers again?” He said while putting his arms at his hips, almost offended.

You bit your lip and looked at him with a guilty smile.

His hand went up to brush through his curls.

“You’re not gonna get any work done if you keep thinking about that. And with the way you look at me, can say the same thing about myself.”

You whine and playfully pout, not wanting to keep studying.

“Come on, princess,” he comes closer to you and whispers in your ear so that his whole voice goes through your body and his lips brush your ear “And when we get home you can tell me all about it while you sit on my ‘pretty’ cock”

Sometimes he would explain what he was doing or why things weren't going the way they were supposed to, sometimes you would share something you found fascinating in your assignment. He would always listen, even if he didn't fully understand, but you knew he was trying to. It made you feel so special - you got the whole attention of this hot 3 Michelin star chef, covered in tattoos and buff, but he looked at you with such care and softness. His muscular arms touched and wrapped around you with strong tenderness and appreciation. Sometimes you saw the same attention to the details in the food he was making - he really cared.

Everything changed after the Beef closed down.

Carmen was a little taken aback when you told him you were going to Copenhagen with Marcus. You were at the restaurant, like any other day, figuring out a thousand things that were wrong before the opening, when you heard Denmark being mentioned amongst the guys.

“Someone's going to Denmark?” you asked, turning around on your chair.

“Marcus is,” Carmen brushed off, and continued having his conversation with him.

“Wait, to Copenhagen? Why?” you felt ignored.

“Uhh, to learn everything about desserts,” Marcus answered. Carmen didn't even look in your direction.

“When? Why didn't you tell me?” you sounded excited because you were, but your heart felt like it was placed into an iron cage. Carmen knew how much that city meant to you, and to not even mention that your friend was going there felt neglectful. But maybe you were overreacting - he was probably busy, he doesn't have to tell you everything, and it surely wasn't for long anyway.

Berzatto shrugged his shoulders. “Why? It's just for some time.”

“I was actually thinking about going there too. I haven't seen my sister in a while. Maybe we could fly together? I know everything there,” you were ready to help Marcus as a bonus. You really appreciated him as a friend, and returning the favor for all those delicious pastries he made at your request would be terrific. You could also use a fucking break from Chiberia.

“For real? That would be awesome!” Marcus exclaimed with his arms, his smile releasing your heart from its prison.

“Uhh… yeah-yeah, sure, I guess,” Carmen squinted his eyes and rubbed his forehead. “I- uhhh, have to go out for a minute. Umm,” he swallowed “-meet that rep for me, yeah?”

An entire work shift of flying has gone by the time you started seeing the bronze-roofed houses sprinkled like decorations on a Red Velvet cake. You made Marcus promise you not to judge the country by its airport, as it usually was surprisingly dirty. Nevertheless, there were hints of what life there was like - a burst of energy, culture, and flavour. You walked what seemed like forever through the endless white halls with blue sections, wondering how many times Carmen had been here and whether you ever crossed paths. You kind of wished he was there. Your excitement rubbed off on your friend - Marcus was beaming with happiness, anticipating your time there. He knew it was going to be life-changing.

The moment you went outside felt like you could breathe again. The weight of The Beef, Carmen, stress, problems problems problems dropped off, was left behind, and never got on the plane. Your chest wasn't encircled by snakes that only pushed until you suffocated. Your mind was clear.

You helped Marcus settle in his awesome boat, and after reading the owner's note to "keep the water in Coco's bowl", searched for the cat for like 20 minutes. Unfortunately, your efforts were fruitless.

Marcus only let you go back alone because you assured him of your safety (you gave him a speech about how it wasn't like Chicago) and experience. Still, he made you text him when you got to your sister's. The two of you were always trying to make your relationship work, but the distance didn't make it easy. That did not mean that you were going to give up - you were used to making a lot of effort for the people you love. She was ecstatic and grateful to see her little sister. The rest of the evening was spent eating, sharing your lives, and talking about your mysterious boyfriend.

“I don’t know, he’s just so… distant. He always leaves somewhere, does god knows what when he knows we don’t have much time! Sometimes it feels like I care about the restaurant more than him. Which is so weird because he was so into it before! He planned the whole thing! And I am so fucking stressed from it all! I never even wanted to work in a restaurant but I was there for him!” you expressed your pain very loudly.

“Have you thought of… breaking up with him?”

You exhale and almost completely give up mentally.

“I don’t know… it feels like we don’t have much of a relationship at all anymore. We don’t go out, all the time is spent on the opening. I swear sometimes I’m there just for our friends and his sister, I can’t just leave them without help while he’s wandering somewhere”.

You couldn’t sleep because being in bed without Carmy by your side felt plain wrong. You were also jetlagged which meant that the peaceful world of Morpheus was avoiding you like a plague. The same thing happened to Marcus, so you both were just texting about what you were doing.

“idk, i gave up and went to get some tea” you typed, a warm mug in your hand as you cozied up on the couch with a blanket.

“yeah, same shit here. bout time to get ready anyway”

Your whole house was asleep, and probably would be so for a while. It was too dark to go out for your liking. Boredom kind of crept in.

“what is it exactly u're gonna do there?”

“uhhh i wish i knew. make some things from the pics i showed u i guess”

“can i watch?” Was it too much of a request? Who even knows if you'll be allowed there?

“yeah i think so. i'd love to not have to do this alone”

You smile, finish your tea, and get up to find some clothes.

You finally reached the place and were met by a tall man in an apron. He introduced himself as Luca, and you heard a very sultry voice softened by an accent. You wondered where he was from.

“I'm Chef Marcus. That's Liv. Is it cool if she just hangs around and watches me?”

“Hi,” you smile at him.

“Hello. You could also join in. What kind of a chef are you?”

“Oh I'm not, I'm -”

“Well, with the amount of time Liv spends in our kitchen listening to every word of the CDC, I'd say she might as well be a chef by now,” Marcus only half-jokes. You give him a look anyway.

Luca prepared everything and soon he and Marcus were working. You were sitting on the other side of the table, able to see everything. Only now you were starting to notice how strong he was, you have to be, you thought, if you stay on your feet all day. His arms were also covered in tattoos that didn't seem to make sense, like Carmy's.

“So who are you?” Luca's question doesn't sound rude, just curious.

“I'm his boss' girlfriend,” you nod as you speak.

“Wow,” he seems to be thinking something, but maybe it's just him being focused on putting the peanuts on dessert, “What are you doing here?”

“Uhh, visiting my sister? It was time and I thought Marcus here could use someone to show him around. As for here, I was really jetlagged and bored.”

Luca was amazing. The way he coached Marcus even when he made mistakes was consistently calm, stern, and leading. Not once did any of you feel berated or hear his voice go louder, all you knew was to just try again. His entire presence excreted stability and equilibrium.

After an extensive lesson, it was Marcus' turn to try. All of you leaned closer to the dessert in hopes of seeing more. You held your breath as you watched Marcus carefully place a tiny piece in the clockwise direction of the dessert when in the blurred background of your vision you felt something change. Instinctively, you looked up from the dish, and your eyes met the gaze of your friend's teacher. There he was, almost lying on the table, looking at you. As if he wasn't busy right now. As if the dessert didn't matter. Hypnotized. “Got it!” Marcus smiled and stood straight up. “Great job, chef,” Luca switched back to Marcus.

Suddenly a firework of spice embraced you in its scent, making your head go round from the all-encompassing desire to taste it.

“Oh my god, are those cinnamon buns?” you had to put your hands on the counter to keep yourself up. “Yeah,” Luca stood straight. “You like them?” “They smell amazing!” you could swear you saw a quick prideful smile brush Luca's lips.

“They are her favourite. And she's very specific about'em too,” Marcus threw you under the bus.

Luca seems interested. “In what way?”

“I'm not, okay? I just believe that cinnamon buns should have a lot of sugar and cinnamon, or else they're just buns. There was this place near the park, and the pastry they sold was like 90% dough. I didn't like that at all” you defend yourself, and Marcus scoffs, having heard you rant about it many times at The Beef.

“Abomination,” Luca shakes his head.

“Exactly! I love it when there is so much sugar that it's oozing out, that's how it'd supposed to be.”

Your lighthearted banter somehow led to Luca opening up and talking about his life and experience. He also shared a couple of stories about determination, his acceptance of not being the best, and some of his failures. Soon all of you were joking around and laughing at your pasts. You felt your heart warm up to him and thought that leaving the house was a good idea.

Marcus stepped outside to check on his mom. He called her sitter as often as he could, and every time you hoped that everything would be alright. Luca was silently doing his work, kneading some dough. It was a demanding process, but so meditative, and you couldn't help but float away watching his big hands grab and squeeze the smooth dough, throwing it back onto the table occasionally, his long fingers dug into it, leaving an impression. “So where is he now?” you ask. “Who?” “The chef who was better than you. Where is he now?” you wondered if Carmen knew him or told you about him. “Well, you tell me. Apparently, opening up a new restaurant,” the chef said, as he threw a careless nod in your direction. Huh? Your heart drops. What? You let out a nervous scoff. “You're saying it was… Carmen??” Your question was met with a simple nod as he kept working. “Carmen Berzatto, the chef that was better than you at everything?” you almost spell out. Luca just takes his eyes off the dough and watches your reaction. He is also confused. “God, he really is the best?” the question sounds more like an exhale. “People keep saying it, but I guess I didn't realize” you sit down, defeated, and stare off. Your mind keeps pacing - what happened to Carmen? How did he go from being the best to being a yelling mess of chaos? Why is someone who looked up to him so calm and collected but still successful? Why can't he be like that? “You sound surprised. What, he doesn't feel like it?” He asks while kneading the dough, this time slower and a little softer. You look at him, then shake your head away and look down. You want to tell him everything about the way Carmen treats you, and how different that is from what your beginning used to be, how he doesn't appreciate you even though you spent so much time in and on The Beef, and how unfair that is, and have his deep voice tell you the answer, but you can't. That would be weird. Luca notices your hesitation. “You know, when we worked together, he would often be… difficult,” there is a pause after he says it because he is reading your face, trying to understand if he's walking on thin ice. He isn't, so he continues. “Partly why I didn't become better than him was because he wouldn't let me.” “Yeah, he shared something like that.” His brows went a little higher, and his grip on the dough hardened and stayed there. “My point is, being with a person like that can't be easy. Man, we only worked together and I already wanted to smother him, can't imagine being in a bloody relationship,” his smile makes you laugh and for a second you forget every bad thing in the world.

Later that day you wanted to call Carmen. “Carm, you free?” You wished to tell him everything - how much you loved the city, how nice his friend was, the fun you were having, and how good this was for you. Kinda wanted to beat his ass for being so mean to Luca too. “not rn, Liv, busy”

Of course.

“Olivia! Come here!” your sister screamed to get your attention. You noticed she was standing at the door, talking to somebody, so you got up and approached her. “What's up?” you asked. She closed the door and turned to you, holding something in her hands. “It's a gift from your boyfriend,” she said in a teasing tone, and you could swear that the last time you saw her that giddy was in high school. “What? How do you know?” A drop of hope celebrated its birth in your chest. “The delivery guy said it's from a chef,” the last word she playfully stretched out, so it came out a little funny, like Tina says it. You couldn't believe it. There it was, a white box carefully tied with a red ribbon. Finally Carmen realised how distracted he was and decided to apologize. Obviously, you were gone, so he missed you. Your heart filled with warmth and you smiled to yourself - you knew things would get better. You take the hefty precious gift from your sister's hands, sit on the couch, and open it with anticipation. Inside, 9 breathtaking gourmet cinnamon rolls with caramelized sugar barely fitting, leaking out of the mouthwatering, well-kneaded dough. And a note.

"You deserve all the best in the world - Luca"

I hope you enjoyed it! Part 2 might come quicker if you comment how you liked it

Snippet from the next chapters

🏷️ Tagged everyone in the comments! If you want to be excluded, just let me know♥️ @carma-fanficaddict @eternallyvenus @sia2raw @helloheyhihowdyheya @soursopsista @m1dnightsnackz @custarrds

Dividers by @saradika

[kamisama1kiss]

don’t mind me, just an anon dropping the idea of Descendants AU Lloyd Garmadon into your head so I’m not the only one suffering with the idea of it

...Wait, this is smart. Since we all know who his father is 🤭 that is so absolutely yummy! I saw this at about 5 am. And had a hard time falling asleep after wanting to see more of this AU. Whoever you are, you're an absolute genius

~~~

Lloyd Garmadon { Rotten to the core }

Platonic headcanons

~

• I can definitely see him wear a lot of dark greens, black and gold details alongside some bone design along his outfit, taking insporation from when he was younger

• He is on the VK island. You can't change my mind

• Being one of the chosen ones to go alongside Mal, Evie, Jay, and Carlose to leave for Arudon (if we follow the storyline)

• It took him a lot longer to get used to all the none stealing, discovery of his new favourite food which would be sweets

• Mostly silent or scoffing at others with a nutural expression, but eventually, when getting closer to actually him considering you a friend som smaller hints of smile will be present

• Let only specific people touch him since he had little to nothing or not at all a good connection with his father and his mother, it made him feel weak which is a big no no

• A ton of stolen candy bars hidden under his pillow from the day

• Had naturally a mystery aura around him, being closest to the four other VK with a few others eventually around the school

• Would use his Oni aspect of him whenever anyone gets on his nerves to scare them off or just intimate the person

• Would constantly be on the move. He is everywhere yet nowhere at the same time

Romantic

~

•Definitely the trope of you fell first he fell harder

• It took MONTHS for him to even know what the things he felt meant. After listening in on Evie and Mals' conversation, he would understand what he was infant having romantic feelings

•Definitely in denial, having never felt it before, which did scare him even more. Pushing you away at all cost

•The only reason why the relationship even started had to be because you asked/told him that you felt romantic twords him

• Still in denying it, but decided to try after thinking a few days in a row about it

"I suppose it can't hurt.. trying? Just be aware that it will not be a walk in the park."

"I understand that very well... even went through the thought many of time, I want this"

• The answer only made him feel more secure about his decision and felt safe to let you in, his heart having never gone this fast before, even from all the danger he has gone through

• He stole things for you just because it reminded him of you and thought you'd like it. Knowing it would make you smile made it worth getting in trouble

• No PDA whatsoever, but if lucky, maybe a little pinky finger holding in the start at least. It took months of resuring and convincing, but now, at least, he'd be willing to hold hand. Maybe even a hand on the small of their back

• If anyone says or looked at his s/o weirdly, he wouldn't hesitate to put the person in their place

• Prefers sitting in silence and just comfortably exist next to one another under the moon and stars

• Playing with his hair would simply put him to sleep within seconds. Any sort of touch from his s/o would immediately relax him. Being on guard and tense from being used to the island

I am tempted to make some sort of fanfiction of this AU 🤭🤭 if there are any suggestions, I'd happily write them of our very beloved evil oni boy.

I've been sat here for an hour, just giggling to myself

[eras-mus]

HIII I HAD A THOIGHT THAT HAS BEEN KILLING MY MIND AND I NEED TO TELL IT TO SOMEONE OTHERWISE IM GNA EXPLODE

get this . everyone chilling at ramshackle dorm doing their own thing, yuu (and grimm by extension), ace and deuce sitting by the table talking about whatever crosses their mind

Eventually the conversation escalates to birthdays and holidays and ace asks how old Yuu is. Azul interjects with saying Yuu's age from the contract they signed a few months ago, but then Yuu pipes up and tells them that they're one year older than that.

Theres a small moment of confusion until it dawns onto Deuce that Yuy's birthday was a month or two ago and they never spoke a peep about it. Not even to grimm!! And when asked, Yuy makes an excuse like "that was when __ was kind of close to overblotting and I didn't want to make it about me because that'd be so nitpicky—"

It was based off an audio i heard and idk if i want to write it into a short drabble for myself i probably cant since im only on book 2 ueue). But like. its a fun prompt methinks. what would all of them do when they find out Yuu deliberately didn't say a thing about their birthday

🎉

THAT WAS YOUR BIRTHDAY???

★Reader is Yuu and is 17 years old

★gender neutral

★takes place after the third book

Sorry it's short, hope you like it!

-

"Can we start yet!" Ace complained, head slamming onto the table.

"I told you we're waiting on a couple more people." The perfect told him "I invited Kalim and Azul to join us since Sebek and Jack couldn't make it"

Tonight was the Ramshackle dorms weekly game night, normally it was just the freshmen but Sebek said that Malleus 'needs' his protection and Jack was just to tired from Spell Drive practice.

"They outta hurry up" Epel started, country accent slightly showing through "don't they know it's rude to be late."

A awkward silence fell over the dorm for a moment before a knock echoes through the dorm.

When y/n opened the dorm they were greeted with a cheerful smile and a hug.

"Thank you so much for inviting me!" Kalim smiled "I hope you don't mind that I brought Jamil, I also brought food, well Jamil did, he made it!"

Y/n blinked for a moment, taking in all the words one guy manged to say so fast. They looked over Kalim's shoulder just in time to see Jamil face plant.

"Thank you for the food Jamil" They smiled, giving him a wave.

"If was the least I could do perfect" he stated, not returning the wave.

Luckily Azul showed up before y/n could shut the door.

Just a few minutes later the group was playing some sort of trivia card game where they would either have to answer a question about someone else playing, a question about themselves, or just a random fact. If they got it wrong the next person would answer the same card, whoever got the most questions right won.

"Who is the most followed person in Magi Cam?" Epel read, "That's easy, Neige"

He revealed the answer to show it was correct.

"Of course you would get that one right" Ace complained "Vil never stops going on about it"

Every one just ignoring him looked over at Deuce, who was next to pick a card.

"How old is the person sitting to your right?" He looked over at y/n. "I'm not sure...18?"

They just shook their head.

"I know this one" Azul butted in, ready to take another point "Our contract from a while ago said that they were 16."

One again y/n shook their head. "I just turn 17 last month"

The room went silent for what seemed like forever.

"WE MISSED YOUR BIRTHDAY!" They all shouted in union.

"Riddle is going to have a heart attack when he finds out" Deuce commented, Ace nodding in agreement.

"You should've said something, we could've had a huge party" Kalim whined.

Y/n scratch the back of their head, "It's not big deal, it was right after one of the overblots, plus where I'm from birthdays aren't that big of a deal."

"Jamil we need to plan a party right now" Kalim said, getting up from his seat.

"We have to too" Ace said "Or get Trey and Riddle to do it for us"

Soon everyone had said something similar and got up and left leaving a confused Ramshackle perfect.

[monikashinswife]

Unexpected Visit (Monika Shin x Artist! Reader)

-The reader is an influential actress/dancer, due to her busy schedule. Their relationship is in jeopardize. How would they fix it?

"Oh babe please?" She said to me almost desperately, "it's been a while since we went out on a date." I sigh as I look at her. Knowing Monika, she usually doesn't do this. She's very independent. And her asking me to go on a date is a huge deal.

I bit my lip as I tried to fight back tears, knowing that I am probably lacking something for her to ask me that herself. I reach for her slowly, "I'm really sorry babe, but this is a huge project for me right now." I explained broken heartedly. I understood that it's been a while since we went out. And it's breaking my heart. As much as I want to take her on a date.

I can't because of my schedule. "Please?" She looked at me with those damn eyes. "Oh God." I groaned as I put my hands on her cheeks. She smiled playfully as she knew the effect that she has on me. I caress her cheeks lovingly.

"As much as I want to, Monika." I said softly, I can feel my heart breaking when I said my next words, "But I can't, babe..." my voice break while saying those words. I continued staring at her beautiful eyes. My heart breaking as I saw the emotion in them. I gave her forehead a lingering kiss.

I close my eyes as I feel her wrap her arms around my waist. I left my lips on her forehead as we cherished this. I tense up when my phone rang. I feel her arms tightening around me. I hugged her back. Giving her head a few kisses.

"I'm really sorry baby. I have to go." I told her. And as much as we both don't want to let go. We had no choice. I have to go film and she also needs to shoot something later.

"I love you okay?" I noticed how she went quiet, but before I could ask her. My phone rang again, I quickly gave her a kiss and gather my things. I hug her for a moment and I hurriedly went to the studio with a heavy heart.

I was greeted by my manager. Luckily the people I'm working with are the people that I knew. And our familiarity with each other resulted to the shoot going smoothly.

"Alright Break!" The head director shouted. I sigh in relief before going back to my trailer. Now feeling the weight of what happened with Monika earlier. I put the script on my vanity, I stare at my phone beside the script.

I bit my nails before looking at myself in the mirror. I gave myself a nod and I messaged Monika.

My hands shaking lightly as I messaged her. For some reason, her message bothered me. Knowing that something is definitely not fine between us.

I gulp as I read her message again. Thinking about her face earlier made me drop everything. I couldn't take it anymore.

I took my things and informed my manager that I am leaving. I quickly messaged the producer of the show that Monika's shooting at the moment.

I asked how many are in the show and bought them foods. I was aware of the show so it didn't surprise me when the producer said the number of participants.

They are filming Street Dance Girls Fighter. I bought Monika a bouquet of her favorite flowers. Still nervous because of what happened. I kept in touch with the producer, asking if I am allowed to enter the studio.

Luckily they allowed me. I toughened as I enter the set. I chatted with the producer for a moment before I was told that the foods that I ordered for them are here.

The producer told me that he would love for me to enter the shoot. And he knew why I came here. I thanked him.

He told the Kang Daniel to introduce a surprise visitor. And when the MC announced it with full energy. The stage door opened. Revealing me.

And the crowd made such a loud noise. Then Dj Som played a hiphop song that is one of my signature dance. And to make it interesting, I gave them a show.

High School girls are different type of fan. They were full of energy and I'm glad that I am able to gave them a worthy impromptu performance with the bouquet in hand as I dance to the rhythm.

The cheers continued after I was introduced. I smiled at the familiar faces of the dancers who are also our friends. They clap at the surprise.

And then I turn to look at the shocked Monika. She's adorable, her stoic facade long gone as genuine shock is written on her face. I smiled sweetly as I approached her.

"Hey..." I said softly. I gave her the flowers. And she looked at them confused. "I'm really sorry love." The people suddenly disappeared and it's just the two of us in this world. I kissed her forehead. "I'm sorry." I whispered, I really wanna make it up to her.

And everyone was surprised to see the strict and intimidating Monika all soft and lovely with you. They awed at the interaction.

After that, the mc continued to explain the next mission for the girls. And the producer told me to sit with PROWDMON in the meantime as the show continued.

The moments of me and Monika were closely watched by the cameras. The way we both would look at each other while talking. The way Monika would scoot closer to me.

Every time I would try to appeal for PROWDMON and Monika's cute reaction as she saw how I could be quite persuasive when I want to. The way I would ask Monika and her members from time to time if they are alright.

The way we would wrap one arm around each other's waist. And how the calm Monika sometimes put her chin on my shoulder as I excitedly watch the girls perform.

The camera captured every interaction we had. And they all felt the love we have for each other. The other crews are very much aware of what's been happening to us and they are just happy that we're alright. And also thanks to this unexpected visit, people saw the serious Monika's other side.

-

(Not proofread, I just finished this rn😭)

[potatomountain]

Mingi Birthday One-shot

Here’s a birthday one-shot for Mingi I had written back during his birthday ^^

Pairing: Mingi x reader

Warnings: nsfw, minors DNI. Smut, reader gets tied up with panties, birthday gift is reader, birthday sex, oral (fem reader receiving), implied reader x mingi relationship, some body worship, Mingi knows to use condoms, rough sex.

It was his birthday, well birthday weekend, and you wanted to give him a surprise he wouldn't forget. Mingi, your lover, had spent a majority of the year quite busy with tours and shows and their new comeback even- which, you had to admit, was hot.

But finally the two of you were going to be able to spend some time in your own apartment, with no immediate plans the next day. So- for at least one guaranteed night, you would have him to yourself. That's why you had spent all week planning this.

Freshly bathed with a full skin and hair care routine, you stared at the options before you. At the store you couldn't decide on just one outfit, so you had narrowed it down to two. One was pretty innocent looking, a baby blue baby doll type with thin see through material and cute fur; the other was a black and red assemble with lace and faux leather straps. You knew Mingi would like either, that wasn't what had you so indecisive; you just weren't sure which he would like more. It was going to be your first time doing anything like this for him after all.

Not that your sex life was boring, far from it, there was just no time to ever plan anything like this. But not this time. You debated on sending pics of the two outfits to him for his opinion but that would ruin the surprise. Still, you pulled out your phone and two a picture of the outfits land out, you just didn't send it to Mingi.

You sent it to Yunho, asking for his opinion on which one Mingi would like best. Of course Yunhoe didn't disappoint, replying with a long paragraph on the pros and cons of each, then a simple follow up text telling you the more racy one.

Yunho hadn't let you down once with all the advice he had given, he was the one who helped get you this far anyways, both you and Mingi had been a bit too shy to go past kisses. Yet here you were, slipping into the recommended lingerie for a birthday surprise; there were other gifts yes but this was the one you were most nervous about.

Examining yourself in the mirror you felt a bit insecure, yet you forced those down knowing Mingi would be upset if you were body shaming yourself. The fact a gorgeous hunk of a man like Mingi thought you were beautiful was a confidence boost already; but the fact it was Mingi who thought so- you didn't want to doubt yourself at all. He never gave you a reason to doubt his attraction to you either.

Humming softly you moved back to the bathroom for some light makeup after checking your phone. Yunho had given you the notice that Mingi just left in a taxi towards your place from the dorms.

Moments later, confident you were ready, you pulled on your house robe and made your way to your living area, staring at your phone for notifications on Mingi's whereabouts.

You saw the text he sent that he had just arrived a mere second before you heard your front door. Excited you rushed to greet him, smiling up at the taller man. "Mingi!" 

Grinning he pulled you into a hug, lifting you temporarily off the ground in the process. "I missed you." He placed a kiss to your cheek, then to your jaw, and was going for your neck when he caught a glimpse of the fabric underneath your robe. "[Name]? What are you wearing?"

You weren't ready to give up the jig just yet, so you pulled away and fixed your robe, a little red around your temples. "Something for later. Food first." You took his hand and gave him a light tug to bring him further inside, letting him kick his shoes off and getting the slippers first.

"But-"

"No buts! I made this cake myself for you so you gotta!" 

"Will you take the robe off first?"

"No. You won't eat then."

"I promise I will." The playful bickering continued for some time as you managed to get him to sit and eat some of the cake. Eventually you were able to get him to change the subject and talk about his birthday with the members. It was so cute when he would talk about them, they were practically his family after all.

Alas, once the cake was done he asked once more "what are you wearing under the robe [name]?"

Once again you deflected, pointing to the few gifts you had gotten him. "Open those, then shower, then you can see."

"Can't I open those in the morning?" He leaned forward on the palms.of his hands, giving his best impression of a begging puppy dog: it was too adorable and you felt your resolve slipping.

You shifted, tugging the robe over yourself tighter.  You knew he wasn't going to give up until he got to see, he was like a curious little kid like that. "Do you promise you will shower then? And wash up properly, don't rush?"

He nodded his head vigorously, his whole face lighting up.

Sighing, you gave in. "Okay, you can open them in the morning. Go shower love."

He rushed up and headed down the small hall, nearly slipping in the process. You held back your laughter until he was at least out of sight, deciding to clean up while he showered. You thought maybe you should've waited until this moment to change but then again you might have chickened out if you waited. His eagerness to see what was underneath did help your nerves, so perhaps it was worth it?

Once again humming to yourself with anticipation you finished putting the cake away and cleaning up the few dishes. After cleaning up yourself you made your way to the bedroom, sat on the bed, and waited. The entire time you sat there listening to the running shower, you wondered if you should keep the robe on or not for when he stepped out.

You decided to leave it on- well more like you ran out of time to make a decision since he was stepping out of your bathroom in nothing but a towel a moment after the shower stopped running. Shocked, you stayed where you were, just watching him as he stared back. He was definitely the better sight, hair still wet and dripping water down his body; the towel he wore only covered his waist which you had a feeling he did that deliberately.

"Mingi- ha ha you could dry off a bit more first." You already felt several degrees warmer just looking at him, you hadn't expected him to do this.

"But- you didn't say that-" pouting he advanced, closing the distance between you and him in a couple long strides. "Let me see Angell, I want to."

Ah, he just had to pull out the pet name. Even more flustered, you nodded and undid the tie as you stood up. This was it, the moment of truth. Of course he had known you were wearing something special from the beginning, but that was part of the fun right? "Why don't you take it off the rest of the way?"

No sooner were the words out before hebwas pulling it off your shoulders and letting it fall off your body. His gasp got caught in his throat, mouth hanging open as he blatantly took in every inch of you with his gaze. Every second that passed you grew more and more flustered, embarrassed even, to be on display for him in such an outfit. Not to mention he continued to be silent, well speechless, and time was passing rather quickly without ant improvement of the situation.

"W-well?" You finally squeaked out, taking a step closer. Only when you glanced down did you notice the towel wasn't doing the best job at hiding how excited he was. Giggling with refound confidence you placed both hands on his stomach, leaning up to press a soft kiss to his jaw. "Happy birthday baby."

"Definitely a happy birthday." He was breathless, the words barely above the whisper as he finally touched you; hands on your hips he ran them up, playing with one of the leather straps wrapped around your abdomen. "So beautiful and sexy… how did I get so lucky?"

"I should be asking that." You reached up and cupped the back of his neck, bringing him close enough to capture his lips with yours. "What would you like to do with your gift hm?"

He chuckled nervously against your lips. "Oh I can think of a long list of things. Can I be rough?"

You briefly thought about it before nodding. "Yes, I trust you." He had gone a bit rough before so you thought you can handle it.

You did not expect to be picked up and tossed onto the bed the next second, managing to lean up enough in time to see him yank the towel off and climb over you. There was a wild look in his eyes, more heated than you had ever seen in his gaze before, which caught you off-guard enough you couldn't find any words to speak up. 

You could only squeak as he pushed your thighs far apart, lifting your hips so he could place a kiss to your inner thigh. His eyes stayed locked onto yours as he trailed kisses up to the lacy thong that barely hid anything. It occurred to you his 'Malik' side was making an appearance for the first time here in the bedroom, and that just excited you to new heights. "S-shit Mingi… you weren't kidding."

It was obvious you hadn't seen how rough he could be, but perhaps you were about to. But in Mingi fashion he still included the body worship he so adored; he lifted your hips a bit higher so he could place his hot mouth over the lace, wetting it and teasing your clit simultaneously. His lips lingered only for a moment, leaving your cunt aching for more attention, so you whined.

He didn't disappoint, his hands pulling your thong down your legs in a rough motion, tossing it aside before he moved back between your legs. His lips back onto your stomach, grazing over your navel while his hands tended to your legs. He loved touching you, finding new sensitive spots or even ticklish spots, but right now neither was his objective. He lifted one of your legs to wrap around his waist, one hand running up your hip and side to grope your breast just as his mouth roughly captured the other through the lace. 

Enjoying his ministrations, you let him lead, slipping a hand into his slick hair and catching a whiff of your shampoo in the process; it made you smile. That smile was quickly replaced with a moan escaping your throat from the feeling of not one, but two of his long fingers pushing into your hole and curling to find the spot he knew you liked.

He wasn't gentle, you didn't expect him to be, but it didn't hurt at all. His fingers wiggled and spread you apart to drive you crazy with pleasure while his teeth clasped your peak and tugged with the fabric; his other hand pinched and rolled your other nipple, both hard and sensitive from his teasing. Even the way he fondled the mound was rough, needy.

And you liked it. The thought of how rough he was going to be with his cock got you as excited as everything else he was doing. The anticipation was killer. "Mingiii~" Whining, you tugged at his hair to pull his mouth off of you; it only lasted a second before his lips were moving up your chest with a scattering of kisses and nibbles. 

"Yes my Angel?" He purred against your skin, still finger fucking you ruthlessly.

"N-n-no more fingers." You tugged at his hair again, a bit harder this time, but aside from a low rumble in the back of his throat he didn't react.

Instead he bit down on the soft spot of your neck, sucking slightly to purposely leave a mark. "Why not?"

It was hard to think with all the stimulation he was giving you, but you managed to continue begging. "B-becuse I want your cock inside- please please Mingi."

He lifted his mouth from your neck to look you dead in the eyes with that smoldering heat, a smirk playing on his lips. "But your so close to coming."

You knew he was right, your hips had been moving in tune to his fingers for awhile now, trying to get the most out of them, while the pleasure had been swirling in your lower abdomen just waiting for release. So instead of more words of protest, you held on tighter, nails now digging into his back (you tried to avoid his arms and neck).

He groaned with approval, thrusting his fingers a bit faster with the intention of having you come undone in the palm of his hand: he didn't have to wait long. You cried out, shaking beneath him as you coated his appendages with your own slick.

You barely had time to come down from the high before you were flipped over roughly, but in the air and hands pulled behind your back. You turned your head to protest, or well just see what he was doing, but instead whimpered out impatiently.  

He had grabbed your discarded thong, the straps on it were of a stretchy faux leather material just like the top; you were able to watch him tie your wrists together with them, quite snuggly too. It turned you on quite a bit to be tied up like this and on display for him, which he seemed to happily be indulging in the view- at least until his eyes met yours. "Mingi?" He looked a bit hesitant.

"Sorry- I guess I should have asked."

You shook your head and gave him a reassuring smile. "Mmm it's fine, you know I would tell you to stop if I didn't like it. In fact-" you shook your ass for him, spreading your legs a bit wider for him, "-I really like it. Please continue. Be as rough as you want, I promise I'll tell you to stop if it's too much."

He didn't seem to need any more encouragement, moving to your end table for a condom and quickly slipping it on. He grabbed the thong between your wrists and positioned himself, his other hand squeezing your ass and keeping it spread so he could rub your slick along his length. 

You were about to beg some more when he pushed himself balls deep, groaning from the action; your eyes nearly rolled into the back of your head, walls throbbing and moving to make room for the sudden large rod that spread them apart. Seconds passed, he wasn't moving (probably to let you get used to him first) but you could hardly stand it: once again you wiggled your hips, gasping out at the feeling of him moving inside of you.

"F-fuck, I guess I really can't hold back." The words came out as a low growl just before he slapped your ass. The yelp you gave quickly turned to a moan as he started to ruthlessly pound into you, using his hold on the thong to pull you back to him harder and harder.

You didn't pay attention to the sounds you made that were filling the room, you only cared about the low rumbles and groans that left his lips, deeper than you had heard his voice before. "F-fuck- so good Angel. You feel so good." Those sweet sounds mixing with the pounding he was giving your cunt… you could only give in and come again, quite hard.

You were left shaking as he fucked you through the climax, panting and drooling against the sheets beneath you; even your moans were becoming quite incoherent. He managed to pick out his name, smacking your reddening bum once again. "T-that's it, call out for me. F-fuck your so hot." 

From your position you could only imagine how flustered he looked, his lips parting with each pant and groan, hair falling into his face and sticking to his sweaty forehead- best of all his cock ramming into you from behind over and over. His stamina was really showing, each thrust still as powerful and fast as the last, hitting your g-spot each time to drive you crazy with the white hot ecstasy.

When you came again you were begging for him to do so too, the overstimulation nearly too much and now you just wanted him pleased. "Y-you want me to cum?"

"Ngh-! Mhmm, p-p-p-ple-e-ease." You were a stuttering mess but you forced it out, throat sore from your continuous cries and loud moans. He might have the stamina to keep going- but you didn't. 

"If my Angel wants it-" He leaned forward, grabbing both of your hips tightly and slamming you back further. His breath was on the back of your neck, a sweet low growl tickling your skin before you both heard and felt him reach his end. 

You were left dizzy, the next moment a blur but you felt empty and felt his weight plop into the bed next to you. Slowly you turned to look at him, smiling.

He smiled back, red and hair sticking to his sweaty forehead just as you had imagined. "That was-"

You nodded, knowing what he wanted to say.

"Damn [name], can I do that more often." His tired face lit up waiting for your answer.

"You should- probably- untie me first." You giggled, wiggling your hands. "After care first, then we'll talk?" 

You already knew you were going to say yes. By the time he had you untied and both of you clean with clean sheets, you were asleep.

[bacon-neko]

SoM Day 10

time to contemplate mortality (not that keraunos really knows what that is)

Keraunos hummed, not entirely following what she was getting at but not too keen on catching up. After all, what did it matter what size he was or what kind of bird he looked like?

Alkidike led the way, following landmarks only familiar to her, and stopping every once in a while to investigate her traps. They were simple, basic snares, only big enough to catch rodents or maybe a bird if it happened to be keen on walking around. As it stood, she caught two rabbits, thin from the lean winter, but hopefully enough for now. After each kill, she handed the limp body to Keraunos, telling him to hold it by the legs while she reset the trap.

It felt weird touching those bodies after the girl had cut their throats and their muscles stilled, eyes glazing over. It wasn’t like Ares or the messenger—limp and motionless. It was hollow and empty like whatever made them move was just gone. He didn’t like it. And when they finished and began walking back to the house and Alkidike offered to carry the rabbits for him, he quickly shoved them in her direction and scrubbed his hands clean of the sensation.

With only a bit of a limp and the aching wish that her father’s blood had given her his inhuman healing, Alkidike led the pair home. There, Keraunos took the shadows while Celaeno fussed and chided and blessed her daughter for at least coming home and not getting eaten by some monster.

The girl rolled her eyes and tried not to wince while her mother cleaned her scrapes. “I wasn’t gonna get eaten. It was running scared, I totally coulda killed it.”

“You don’t know that,” Celaeno warned as she pressed a green pulp into her wounds.

Alkidike huffed, “Mama, if I’m gonna be a huntress, I gotta prove myself! I gotta be a monster-slayer, a hero, just like the stories.”

Celaeno seemed ill-content with the thought, but Alkidike was already bouncing in her seat, bored and well-passed the sting of embarrassment. The girl got sent out to fetch water and Celaeno collapsed back in her chair with a sigh.

“I worry for her,” she admitted, peering towards Keraunos. “I worry Fate will not be kind to her.”

Fate seemed to have grand plans for him, so he asked, “Why wouldn’t it be kind?”

She shook her head. “It’s just a feeling. I worry I used up all our good will getting here and the only thing left is to balance it out.” She pursed her lips and asked, “If there is any good left for us, would you make sure it’s used for her? Please?”

Before he could promise, the girl bounded up the stairs again, water in had, pulling the room into motion. Celaeno un-creased her brows, drew her daughter into a crushing hug that made her wiggle and squirm and complain, before releasing her once more. They made food, offering a generous portion to Keraunos which he gobbled up, and then prepared the room for sleep.

The godling took the bed, something Celaeno was unwilling to compromise on, insisting that the side of a hearth was hardly the worst place she’d ever been made to sleep. He took her word for it, lying down alone, while mother and daughter curled up together by the fire, wrapped in wool and tangles of hair. He stared at the ceiling, fingers twitching at his side, until sleep finally swept him away.

[locked-tomb-shenanigans]

OOOH okay I've got a good one. I want some autistic Harrow content, maybe her getting overstimulated at a party or something like that and Gideon takes care of her <3

I wanna preface this by saying that I myself am not autistic, so huge, huge thank you to the wonderful Nick Hopson and Deklan Baker for reading over this for me and making sure I did alright in portraying the experience! Some of it is based on my own experiences with ADD since there’s overlap, which helped while writing, but I was still worried about messing up and having you two give me feedback was super helpful!

Majority of this is under the cut again because I wrote another 1k thing, so oops.

What can I say, hurt/comfort is just fun to do, and as nervous as I was, I honestly adored writing this :)

Also threw some ADHD Gideon in there, I'm predictable on some fronts, sorry XD

Requests are currently closed while I work on some things for the tIt holiday exchange, but I might open them again in January after I finish the ones l've already gotten (if I have time). CW for pretty severe overstimulation, as per the request, as well as some relatively minor references to Harrow’s canonical struggles with food.

Harrow’s noise cancelling headphones were out of battery. This would not have been a problem had she been back at her and Gideon’s apartment, showering, as she always did on weekdays from 10:25 to 10:35 in the evening. After that, she would prepare food for herself, which was a routine she could absolutely not afford to lose. If she didn’t eat routinely at an hour that made her body remember even when her brain did not, Harrow might go the whole day without eating.

But her headphones were out of battery, and she was not in the shower, which would have already caused her huge levels of discomfort if she hadn’t been at a party. As it was, Ianthe had dragged both of them with her when she’d come to pick up Gideon for this Friday’s “start of the semester”-party. 

The place was positively packed with people, the lights were harsh and shone right in her eyes regardless of which way she turned… and then there was the noise.

Harrow had left the headphones in, hoping they’d still help a little, but it didn’t make enough of a difference. The thumping sound of the stereo was beating right into her skull, and all around them people were shouting and laughing and dancing with clacking heels and heavy boots. Harrow couldn’t tune any of it out, she kept catching snippets of conversations from all sides at once, the noises swelling into a nightmare symphony. 

She wasn’t sure what in the God’s name had possessed her to step onto the dance floor with her girlfriend, but it was just too much. People kept brushing past her, and at some point even pressing her nails into her palms repeatedly (left hand for three seconds, right hand for five, left hand for three again) stopped helping. Her senses were overflowing, and when she looked up again Gideon was gone from her sight, lost among the waves of people dancing around her. It was just too much. 

Harrow felt nauseous and her vision was swimming, tears blurring the people around her into one colorful mass. There were rational thoughts somewhere in her brain, but she couldn’t reach them. The only thing that remained was a sort of animal panic, a quiet, persistent scream of ‘outoutout.’

The act of fighting herself out of the crowd was a blur of noises and lights and hands, and Harrow only briefly came back into herself when she stumbled and became acquainted with the black tile floor.

The voices around her swelled unbearably and someone reached out to touch her. Harrow feared she might scream, but the next snippet she caught was Gideon’s voice. People stepped back. Gideon didn’t touch her. She knew when not to. She just stepped into Harrow’s field of view and waited for her to get up on her own before she walked, purposefully slowly, towards the back door. Harrow scrambled after her, vision swirling so badly that she nearly knocked something over and then bumped against the doorframe.

Gideon stayed calmingly quiet while she accompanied Harrow back to the car. She just walked with her in silence, half a step behind, and did what Harrow only realized later was shielding her from view.

The car’s smells were mild and comforting in their dull familiarity, and Gideon let her sit on the left side of the backseat with all the doors open so she could feel the cold. Gideon left her briefly, returning with a weighted vest and Harrow’s favorite pillow, placing them down next to her before sitting at a respectful distance at the other end of the backseat. Harrow could do nothing but to look at her girlfriend and hope she understood, because no words in any known language would suffice to adequately express her gratitude—and even if there had been words, her throat refused to form any.

There was immediate relief in the vest and the ability to curl around the pillow, nails digging into the smooth fabric (left hand for three seconds, right hand for five, left hand for three again). She pressed her head back into the seat, eyes closed and knees pulled up to her chest and just breathed slowly for a full five minutes. She felt less like she was about to vibrate out of her skin after.

Over the next twenty minutes, she slowly worked herself all the way over to Gideon’s side of the backseat, first barely touching a single finger until she finally buried herself in her girlfriend’s side. Gideon was her safe person, and the only one whose touch she not just tolerated but genuinely enjoyed a lot of the time. But when her senses were already worn so thin, it would just push her even further over the edge. She and Gideon were opposite in that way—when Gideon’s senses were overwhelmed like this, touch was the only thing that helped.

But when Harrow’s senses weren’t all screaming at her at once, this did help her, too. 

“Is it okay if I…” Gideon lifted an arm and trailed off, not making any further movements before Harrow confirmed that it was, in fact, okay. 

“Thank you, Gideon,” Harrow whispered into her girlfriend’s chest, still sniffling quietly, “for thinking ahead and bringing the things I needed even when I didn’t admit I would. And for being here with me when you could be inside with your friends.” She had a terrible desire to apologize, but they had rules for situations like this. If Gideon was forbidden from unproductive self-blaming for situations out of her control, it only made sense that Harrow was, too.

“Are you kidding? Fact aside that I’d be with you regardless, that party was a fucking nightmare. The lights were so bad that my sunglasses barely helped. By all means, thank you for giving me an excuse to leave.” She looked at her for permission, and, once granted, pressed a gentle kiss to Harrow's forehead. “Let’s just stay home next time, okay?”

“Gladly.”

“And Harrow?”

“Yes?”

“Don’t let people drag you into doing things you know are likely to set you off. It’s reasonable to do that. I know I’m one to talk, but I’m working on it, and the point still stands. Your well-being is more important than someone’s desire to hang out with you.”

“And if I just wanted to spend the evening with my girlfriend?” Harrow asked quietly, lacing her trembling fingers through Gideon’s, index finger drumming incessantly against her girlfriend’s second knuckle.

“Then tell her that next time, and maybe you’ll even give her a decent excuse to skip out on something she’s only choosing to go to because of peer pressure.” She smiled down at Harrow. “Let’s go home, yeah? Unless you still need a moment, of course. No rush.”

“I should be alright, so long as I’m not forced to drive,” Harrow said dryly, both of them well aware that she didn’t even have a license to begin with. She buried her head in Gideon’s chest, just for another moment.

“No way in hell am I letting you drive my car, Nonagesimus.” Gideon chuckled lightly. “You should probably also eat something when we get home. How’s mashed potatoes sound?”

Harrow lit up immediately. Mush food was her favorite, especially when it was so mushed that it barely had any texture and didn’t require her to chew, just swallow. It was inarguably better than soup—though soup was also an acceptable choice on most occasions—because of the just perfectly comfortable amount of stimulation the mashed potatoes provided in their slight solidity. Harrow enjoyed the feeling of moving the mass around in her mouth, liked the feel of it against her cheeks.

Gideon always made the mashed potatoes unseasoned, and didn’t serve the food until it was lukewarm, and like that, it was as good as any comfort food got.

“Please know that you are my favorite person in the vasts of the universe.”

“I do,” Gideon said, and looked like she might cry. Her free hand flapped against her thigh, like it always happened when Gideon was happy. “But I’ll never get sick of hearing it. And I’m not gonna say it as weirdly as you just did, but I love you, too, Gloom Princess.”

Harrow knew she would marry her, then.

[allieebobo]

Hi Allie!! The update was really gooooodddddd! Anw, ive been stalking and reading through the asks & while I’m enjoying those, i don’t think anyone has asked u about urself yet. Or maybe i miss it but I’m interested to know more about the author who wrote 2 of my fave IFs. Just general questions like;

1. which part of SG were you from?

2. Fav food?

3. Fav place to lepak?

4. Pri/sec school (if you were educated in sg)

5. What made you migrated to USA?

6. Where are u currently based in?

7. Are u still a student or a full-fledged career womann

8. One place in sg that will always carry beautiful memories for you, now that u’ve moved abroad.

9. What sparked your interest in writing these IFs?

Hehehe. If some of the questions are abit personal, you don’t have to share ur answers. Have a good day ahead 🤍

Ooh!! Anon, these are great questions hehe!! Sure, we can do a get-to-know-me session!

I will answer a couple, and get back to the rest at some point, OK? If there's a question that I didn't answer that y'all are really curious about, you can send me an ask with the number and I'll get to it sooner rather than later.

(P.S. no, none of them are too personal, I just think it'd take me a gajillion years to reply if I tried to answer them all!)

Got long, so the answers are below the cut!

1. which part of SG were you from?

Redhill/Bukit Merah! There's a moment in Merry Crisis where MC talks about it, and that's directly from my life! West side, best side! If me and my partner were entitled to a subsidized public housing flat (we aren't, for so many reasons including we're queer and she's not Singaporean), I'd absolutely buy a flat in the exact same neighbourhood.

2. Fav food

Wow... I can't really choose one, but if I could cheat and pick a whole cuisine then Peranakan food, hands down. Petai (stinky bean) with ikan bilis is one of my fave dishes—and it reminds me of my grandma. Otherwise, ban mian is a big comfort food for me, and so are red chili oil dumplings. I also love kaya toast with eggs for breakfast. Herbal bak kut teh and teochew fish are things I love but wouldn't eat every day... All of these might show up (the fish already has I guess!) in the game at some point!

For non-Singaporean food, I could eat udon, all kinds of pasta, and som tum all day every day.

3. Fav place to lepak

<Lepak is Singaporean/Malaysian(? I think) slang for like, 'chill' or 'hang', btw.> As you can already tell I added a lot of my own experiences/things I love into Merry Crisis already, so I'm going to have to go with Labrador Park and Sentosa. As a kid my mom would bring me and my brother to the rocky coast in Labrador after school with a box of Sarpino's pizza and we'd play in the water and eat and get really sandy. Sentosa back in the day was less commercial/touristy, and we'd just park in the carpark for $2, and spend the entire Sunday just chilling on the beach (yes, I'm a huge beach person haha), and my dad (not a big beach person) would be napping under a big tree probably wishing his wife weren't such a big beach person because it's been inherited by his kids and now this is how he'll spend his weekends for the rest of his life.

6. Where are you based in? 7. Are u still a student or a full-fledged career woman

Have a full-time job, sadly. I've been working as an urban planner in Singapore for three years now. (Think that answers both questions at the same time.) So yeah, I plan the city. Mostly I make sure future generations have enough housing, even though I'm not entitled to one myself. 🤷‍♀️ I enjoy my work and I think it's fulfilling, but it's also tough and my hours are too long. One day I hope to write full-time but I really don't think it'll pay the bills. Maybe if I live somewhere cheaper than Singapore!

Quite excited to answer 8, 9 as well, but maybe those are for another day?

[coochiequeens]

I knew using a surrogate was the only way I'd have a child. I saw what women would go through to carry a baby, and it just wasn't something that I was prepared to do.“ If she wanted to be a parent but had no desire to go through pregnancy and birth why not just adopt ?

I never had the desire to have a baby physically. The idea of using a surrogatestarted before I ever considered the process. I was young and married, and at the time, my husband wanted a baby—but I didn't.

Unfortunately, that relationship didn't work out. But when I met my now husband, I loved him tremendously; it was a different type of love. With him, I wanted to have a kid. So, at 36, I froze my eggs and embryos.

After a few years, we started talking about it seriously. In my heart, I knew using a surrogate was the only way I'd have a child. I saw what women would go through to carry a baby, and it just wasn't something that I was prepared to do.

I have a lot of admiration and respect for women who have children and work, but I never thought that was for me.

I didn't judge myself. I allowed myself to say hey, giving birth is just not for me. I did, on the other hand, know the traditional surrogacy route was for me—but not for health reasons. Instead, my reason, which probably isn't popular, was a life decision that worked best for us.

Choosing a surrogate

We used a surrogacy agency recommended by a friend and found a mother of two who'd given birth before. She was also very honest about why she was interested in being a surrogate.

As a single mom originally from Cuba, she had been in the States for eight years trying to make enough money to feed and provide for her family—and it wasn't easy. I knew the money meant a lot, but also, I'm originally from Columbia, and we're both Hispanic. I felt a connection and kinship with her.

Plus, I felt she would do a good job.

The cost of surrogacy

Looking back, we didn't expect or think about the cost upfront. The surrogacy costs can be a lot for many families. Ours ended up around $120,000 $140,000 USD.

Our surrogate worked the night shift at the hospital, so we paid her salary for the final three months of pregnancy. We wanted to make sure those long nights didn't take as much of a physical or emotional toll on her. We also paid for her food to ensure a great diet. That alone became really expensive over the nine months.

Our doctors said age wouldn't be an issue, so we didn't factor it into the final cost. When we met her, she was 39; by the time she had our baby, she was 41. Some medical issues arose during labor and delivery, leading to more costs than we expected. We learned there are a lot of possible health risks involved with age that can increase expenses before and after birth.

The emotional impact of hiring a surrogate

The hardest part is having faith that everything will work out since you're trusting a person you've barely met to carry your child. As much as you try to get to know and build a connection with them, you may still live in different states and come from diverse backgrounds. It's tough to establish that deep level of connection.

Being comfortable with using a surrogate and taking that chance helps ease the experience and anxiety. You'll have some negative thoughts about not completely controlling the situation—I did. But I leaned on my faith and I prayed everything would go well. I wholeheartedly prayed our baby would be healthy.

One thing that helped was speaking to our surrogate at least once a week. We also virtually attended her doctor's appointments via Zoom. Because we lived in different states, being a part of the journey felt nice.

The most comforting part was that our surrogate was very responsible and caring. She knew what to do already since she had two kids—pregnancy made sense to her. Knowing this helped us build trust and confidence in the process.

We had a really good relationship with her; I'm grateful for that.

What I wish I had known before

We knew what she did but didn't realize how challenging the job would be on her body toward the end of the pregnancy. If you're going to go the surrogate route, I recommend digging deep into what the surrogate does for work and making sure it's manageable. The additional costs also add up, putting more pressure on your relationship.

It also might've been easier (and perhaps less costly) if the surrogate's dietary choices aligned with ours.

Lastly, you want to be comfortable with their age. There will most likely be fewer health risks during and after the pregnancy for a younger surrogate. To be a surrogate, you need to have already had children. With our surrogate being older, it meant she was responsible, but carrying the baby and being pregnant was a little more difficult on her body.

Those are concerns in both tangible and emotional ways.

Seeing our baby for the first time

People always say it, but our baby was the best gift ever. It's hard to understand what that means until you have your own little bundle. As a person who wants to impact the world, I quickly realized that creating a baby that will benefit society is one of the most significant impacts you can have and one of the best gifts you can give. It was a real mind shift.

Sharing that utopian level of love with my son, Rio, is like seeing 3-D your whole life, and suddenly you see 4-D. It's the epitome of what life is and re-establishes your belief in the potential and pure magic of everything.

Ultimately, having Rio and our surrogacy journey was one of the most profound and humbling, exhilarating love-feeling experiences I have ever (and will ever) have. Our family is now complete, and we're forever grateful to the woman who so generously lent us her womb.

If it was about money she could adopt a child for $1,000 to $50,000

[rukkiya]

Hello hello !! I'm just dropping by to tell you to drink plenty of water and eat well (be it snacks or full meals, whatever fits your liking) !! Take a break too !! Or go outside, get a breather and some fresh air, and maybe even som exercise !!

I hope you're doing great but if it happens to be only an "just alright" , "I'm fine" , or "I'm okay" , I'm sending virtual hugs to (hopefully) make it into an "I'm doing better" !!! - ✎

THIS MEANS SO MUCH SWEETIE YOU DONT EVEN KNOW T^T <3

small rant ahead SORRY but I’ve been struggling a bit lately with slowly healing with some issues I’ve been having and it’s been rough with the changes. I’ve had so much brain fog latley so I’ve been isolating and keeping to myself and it’s just been a lot, seeing this sweet message made me genuinely tear up so hon let me say thank you so much for checking up on me(｡´ ‿｀♡) I actually went out today and had some of my fav food ꒰´꒳`∗꒱ (some bread/pastries ) after not having it for some time and it made me happy bc I haven’t enjoyed something like that in some time!

I hope you’re taking care too sweetie! I hope you eat your fave yummy foods/snacks as well, hydrate drink your fave yummy drinks and sleep well! Take a breather and take some time for yourself take care ok! Please stay safe your loved and your not alone! If u ever and I mean ever need to talk or just chat you can always message me, though we don’t know eachother I’ll reply and try to help you the best of I can ok! I hope you have a lovely day/night, thank you once again you’ve made me so happy ✧( ु•⌄• )◞◟( •⌄• ू )✧

[itsgenevieve]

We are just people // Chapter 2

«That didn't go so well.» I said to myself, pulling out a cigarette; smoking was a bad habit I picked up in my training years. But then I put it back, realizing I was craving something else. I needed food.

I headed to the small restaurant I visited every time I worked. I sat at the counter, ordering everything I liked. I opened the file and started reading about the meeting point. The agency rented an apartment in the suburbs. Seemed private enough.

«Yakedo?» a familiar voice called my name.

I turned around and saw Kirishima, Bakugo and Mina. They were still wearing their uniforms.

«Hi, guys. What a coincidence.» I closed the file and gave them a friendly smile.

«Want to join us?» Kirishima asked.

«I don't want to eat with another extra.» Bakugo complained but Kirishima didn't mind.

«I wouldn't want to intrude.»

«Come on, it'll be fun!» Mina smiled and sat on the chair next to me.

I guess I didn't have a choice.

«What were you reading?»

«Just work stuff, extremely boring.»

«Oh, I forgot you're an adult.» Kirishima said, Mina kicked him on the leg. That hit a nerve. Did I seem that old?

«I'm 18, technically not an adult.» I smiled, letting him know I didn't mind.

The conversation flowed smoothly; Mina and Kirishima were very nice, and Bakugo made me laugh with his stubborn and angry temperament.

Bakugo and Kirishima left at the end of the evening. it was only me and Mina.

«So... what about that ride?» I gave her my spare helmet and hopped on my bike.

«Still interested?» I winked at her.

Mina agreed eagerly. In no time, she was on the back of my motorcycle.

«Hope you're not afraid of speed.» holding me tightly, she just nodded.

I slowly increased the bike's speed, taking the panoramic route across the bridge. Luckily, there weren't many cars and I could go as fast as I wanted. We traveled in silence, enjoying the sound of the engine. We reached the destination in less than fifteen minutes.

«That was so cool!» she screamed excitedly. She suddenly hugged me and started jumping with enthusiasm. She was so ecstatic. The adrenaline rush of the first time is unforgettable. Riding might be dangerous, but it's the quintessence of freedom.

«Thank you! You're amazing! See you tomorrow!»

I rode back home, feeling happier. She was like a ray of sunshine

(...)

«I'm telling you, she was so incredible! It was so fast, the wind almost cut me!»

The next day, I stepped into the classroom and sat at my desk; the very last one, next to Todoroki.

«Hey.» I said, taking off my black sunglasses. Mina stopped talking and blushed a bit.

She tried to say something but Aizawa interrupted us, letting us know the lesson was starting.

«Today we'll do a special activity. Wear your hero costumes.»

Oh boy... I completely forgot about that part, so it surprised me to see a hero costume. It was very similar to what I wore during missions. I had all my accessories, knives, swords, and personalized combat boots. I wore a black leather suit that fit wonderfully. It was sleeveless on the right arm, letting me easily touch other people.

«Wow! You look just like a spy!»

«Really? Do I?»

«A hot spy!» the short kid said, drooling. Everyone ignored him.

«You look very... intimidating.» Momo said, scared by my weapons.

«I'll divide you into seven teams. You'll have to find all the objectives in the building. The team who will find more of them will win. You can obstacle each other and steal objectives from other teams.»

I was with Todoroki and Koda, a strong team. We had a high chance of winning.

«Let's clear this floor. Considering there are 4 floors, there might be another team here. Let's be careful and check every room we go in.» We didn't know the members of the other teams.

We started searching and after a few minutes; we found one of the objects.

«A doll? Interesting choice.» I took it and put it in the bag Aizawa gave us.

The movement behind me was sudden. I turned around and saw tape heading towards us.

«Watch out!» I slashed most of the tape with my sword but some of it took todoroki by the leg and make him fall. I heard a crack when he fell on the floor.

«Are you okay?» I asked, but I still scanned the room for the others. I looked up and saw it, a ventilation duct.

«Koda, monitor the ventilation duct. »I slowly moved closer to Todoroki and kneeled next to him. He had a broken ankle.

«Can I?» After he nodded, I slowly lifted the fabric of his pants, making him flinch. A bruise was already forming on his ankle. Nothing too difficult to heal. I touched his skin and used my quirk, healing his wound.

«I would have never expected a healing quirk... thanks.» After I helped him get up, I confirmed that his wound healed, and we left the room.

«Let's get their object.»

The other team must have been close; considering that the tape was able to move so easily in the duct. We were careful as we moved through the hallways.

«Todoroki, freeze this room. It's the last one. I suspect they might have the invisible girl with them. Let's be careful.»

Todoroki did as I said and when we entered the room, we found Mineta and Sero. Their legs were frozen. I looked around and realized that even the invisible girl was frozen. We immobilized them and took their object. That was easy.

We were just about to move to another floor when the alarm warned us that the challenge was over. I stared at the two dolls in our bag. Will they be enough?

«That didn't go as planned. Almost no one went looking for the objects. You preferred fighting against each other as soon as possible. That was not the point of the challenge.» Aizawa sighed, disappointed by us.

«The team made up of Todoroki, Yakedo and Koda won since they had two objects. I hope next time you'll listen to my instructions.»

«Oh, we won.» I said to Todoroki, but he didn't answer me.

Teens these days...

(...)

He was late. I had been pacing around the room for at least thirty minutes.

«Villains are so annoying.» I let myself fall on the comfiest sofa I had ever been on.

«I'll take that as a compliment.» a deep voice scared me.

What I saw made me shiver. He was tall, his long coat almost touched the floor but his scars caught my eyes. The skin of his face, neck and arms was purple and seemed to be connected by staples. His presence scared me a bit and I've had my share of horrible criminals. His eyes were the worst part, so blue yet so empty.

«Didn't expect to see a kid. »

Why did all villains have an attitude?

«We should get to business.» I said, ignoring his comment. For the sake of the mission, I needed to be serious and professional.

«I'm making a few rules first; I won't tell you anything that will harm civilians. If I realize that something I said armed innocent people I will stop this, have I made myself clear?»

«They didn't say you were a bitch.» he said, lighting a cigarette with his quirk.

«Clear?» I asked again, growing a bit irritated.

«Crystal.» he rolled his eyes and started walking around the house.

«Do you live here?» he asked after a bit.

«Do you think I would meet you at my house?» I followed him into the kitchen.

«Bummer, that's a nice place.» he sat on the counter and stared at me. His gaze suddenly turned serious. It sent shivers down my spine.

«What's in it for you? Why do you want to help me?»

What I was going to ask him was a bad idea, probably the worst one I've ever had. But I couldn't let this opportunity pass.

«I'm looking for information on a crime that happened eleven years ago. Someone killed my parents, and the heroes did nothing to solve this. I'm looking for the culprit.»

«And what will you do after you find the culprit?»

I considered what I should have said. To gain his trust I needed to show him I'm not a hero.

«I want revenge.»

«Fair enough, I'll look into it.» he inhaled deeply from his cigarette. It surprised me how quickly he agreed. Maybe he was expecting something different.

«I need to know the transport routes of this company. Contact me on this number when you have everything I requested.» he gave me a paper with everything that I needed.

I skimmed the paper. Of course, it was a bank, a typical villain.

«See you.» he opened the window and left from the fire escape. How dramatic.

«You could have used the door.» I rolled my eyes and after making sure he left; I called my boss.

«I have news.» I said as soon as he picked up

[larissa-the-scribe]

Terrarium Lights, Part 2.4

Last time on Terrarium Lights: Gail and the ghost get to better know and understand each other. (Next part >>here)

"Living things do seem to liven things up." He paused. "I suppose that is rather obvious, but I mean, like, something about life being nearby seems to somehow contribute a feeling of life…? I'm… not quite sure what I'm trying to say, but… you know?"

Gail chuckled. "Yes. Plants do seem to bring a kind of life with them. So can other people, but that can depend sometimes on who they are. For all that they're living, some people people seem rather… not lively."

"Exactly.” He frowned. “I don't really remember people, but, well, I know I feel more alive around you, I think. At least more aware. I assume the principle is applicable elsewhere, as well."

"Glad to hear it." Gail smiled at him, and pricked her finger. "But yes, I suppose, I like the creation and art that goes into terrariums, and the quiet life that goes with them.” She took a moment to suck on her thumb. “They can be like glimpses into a small little world crafted in moss and stone."

"That does sound nice." He sounded wistful.

"Usually, I wait to make one with Michael," Gail explained, "but I had plenty of time on my hands, and someone who I felt wanted a gift, so I made it my project for while he was gone. He helped, drew out some ideas for me. I'll probably take it to Mrs. Oberson next week, about."

He wandered over to where it sat on the table and poked at it. "Have you ever thought about adding light to it?"

"What do you mean?" She squinted at him over top of her socks.

"Like… a small lightbulb inside it. Like a terrarium and a lamp. And depending on the kinds of rocks, it could add some color and sparkle, to it, or if you had some way to color the glass."

Gail had not, in fact, thought about this. She did so now, setting down her needle. "Well, I suppose that would look pretty if you could get it sorted proper. Though you'd have to reckon with the moss not doing so well with a lot of direct light. I know there are new types of lights they’ve made, fit for indoor plants—my Timothy has told me they’re trying something related to food in winter—but I’m not sure as I’ve seen any around here. Also the plants do need water, and as I understand, electricity and water don't do so well together. Some folks these days know how to reconcile steam and spark, as you can see in the world around us, but I don’t know how easy it would be for a lady of advanced years, such as myself, to figure it out. Perhaps with Michael, but I don’t know as that would happen soon."

"Hmmm. I suppose that’s fair." He leaned over it, practically sticking his face in the terrarium’s opening. "I… I almost feel like I could do something to help with it, but… I’m not quite sure. It…. reminds me of something, though."

"The terrariums or the lights?" Gail asked, returning to her needlework.

"I… I don't know." He straightened up and frowned. "Maybe… it was about working on something. I'm not sure."

"Hmmmm." She carefully slid her needle into its next stitch. "Do you think it was something recent?"

"Maybe… maybe it was. I can’t tell."

"Could it have been part of… whatever you were doing in all those strange place? The ones you can sort of remember?"

He furrowed his brow, picking at the hem of his waistcoat. "I… I'm not sure. I…" He winced, and his eyes looked very pale.

"That's alright, then," she said. Her needle slipped but she didn’t notice. "I'm sure it will come when it's ready. No need to force yourself." This was similar to the other day. He didn't seem as distraught, but, it didn't strike her as good to get riled up. Didn’t seem healthy, disappearing from reality. Perhaps it would be alright in the long run, but, well… he was just a lad, trying to find his way.

"What if it's important?" He looked down at his hands. "I… I want to be able to know who I am. But… it hurts to think about, to look at, but even when I try I can’t see the faintest bit of it, and sometimes I can’t see at all, and—"

"I'd imagine if it is as important as it seems to be, it won't escape you," she replied, focusing on keeping calm and normal for his sake. "Some views of life take more time to shape, and that includes views of yourself—with or without memory loss. Sometimes… sometimes the moss can't settle in right away on a new rock. Roots take time to grow, before they can be strong and take the weather." She wished she could think of something more adequate to say, in a situation she knew nothing about.

His head turned towards her, but his eyes could not find her.

"It will take shape," she said, and it felt like a promise that spoke inside her. "The pieces must be gathered before the whole of it can be formed."

Maybe she was thinking of puzzles, maybe cooking, maybe terrariums, maybe remembering what it was like to be young and uncertain and desperately wanting something that could be understood and held on to, how it felt to yearn and push too fast and too hard when she got glimpses in the distance.

He nodded, vacantly, and stumbled over to where she was. "I just… I want to be able to figure this out. I don't want to just… haunt you forever." He slid slowly down into a sitting position and leaned back against her chair. "I have to live somewhere, right?"

Gail faltered. It was an opening to speak, to tell him that he was haunting her, that he wasn’t alive at all, but… the timing seemed too abrupt, too cruel, too likely to send him over the edge. And what did happen with a ghost that got too upset? Would that make their condition, their regrets and their attachments, worse? Harder to break off? Peace harder to find? She didn't know. "You will have all the time you need," she said quietly. "Sometimes it doesn't seem that way, but… the things that matter, they take time, and Time allows them to. I know it is frustrating, but rushing things can make things hurt more than they need to. When the pieces are gathered, we will be put together. We have an Artist looking out for us."

His shoulders sank with the force of his sigh. She could feel the static warmth and memory of form clinging to her skirts, making them move as if they had gained a life of their own and decided to dance solemnly.

"I… I suppose I can wait, and try to remember more. Maybe my friend… maybe he can find me and tell me what happened."

"That would be nice, wouldn't it?" Somehow, the mechanical movements of her hands had produced decent results as far as darning went. She found her thread running out. "Maybe he will. Seeing as there's a chance you might be from around here."

"I hope he will."

His voice was very young, in a lost kind of way.

Gail wished she could hug him. Instead, she continued with her needlework.

He didn't say a word for the rest of the evening.

Previous

Next

[assbutt-writes]

A Heart Of Iron Chapter 1

Chapter below the cut

TONY

"If it's all the same to you, I'll have that drink now," Loki said, looking up at the horde of superheros standing over him, their weapons drawn. His eyes locked on Tony's, setting him on edge. Loki was up to something, and it scared Tony that he couldn't figure it out.

Deciding to ignore that for now, Tony shook it off and said, "Alright, get him on his feet. We can all stand around posing up a storm later. By the way, feel free to clean up!"

"Who gets the, uh, magic wand?" Nat asked, carrying the scepter.

Steve replied, "STRIKE team's coming to secure it."

Then, an elevator opened, and the STRIKE team walked out. Sitwell walked up to Natasha, and she handed him the scepter.

"By all means," she replied, eager to get rid of it, and started to walk away.

Sitwell examined it, and started to touch the tip, when Nat called back at him, "Careful with that thing."

"Yeah, unless you want your mind erased," Clint joked, probably referencing Loki possessing him, "and not in a fun way."

"We promise to be careful," Rumlow assured.

As they gathered up the gear, Steve walked past, talking into his com, saying "On my way down to coordinate search and rescue."

Loki shape-shifted into Steve, mockingly repeating what he said while cross-eyed and doing robot arms. He then transformed back into himself, saying, "I mean, honestly, how do you keep your food down?"

Tony had to fake a cough to hide his amusement. Thor then slapped an Asgardian muzzle over Loki's mouth, saying, "Shut up."

Tony packed up the Tesseract and headed into the elevator with the rest of the Avengers. Hulk tried to join them, but it was already full.

"Hey, hey, buddy! What do you think? Maximum occupancy has been reached," Tony said.

"Take the stairs," Thor suggested.

After a bit of negotiating, everyone agreed that Tony should be the one to show Loki his cell, as he was the only one immune to Loki's mind-control.

"So, this is where you'll be staying. Toilet's over there- Wait, do Asgardians need to use the toilet? Never mind. It doesn't really matter. Bed's over there- It's more like a cot, really- sink's over there, and here's where your food will come through. Oh, and we can take off that stupid muzzle." Tony explained to Loki, who immediately tried to teleport.

"Don't bother. Thor set up some weird kind of force-field that nullifies your powers," he said.

Loki froze up, and instantly his expression became guarded.

"Thank you for showing me around, but I think I can take care of myself. You may go now," he said, his face remaining expressionless. The only sign that he wasn't as calm and collected as he acted was his hand, which was starting to fidget with the hem of his cape. Tony instantly recognized the movement as something he did when he was on the verge of a panic attack.

"Um, are you okay?" he asked hesitantly.

"Yes. I suggest you leave now. You've finished showing me around, and I'm assuming that your fellow Defenders-" Loki started to say.

"Avengers," Tony corrected before he could stop himself. Great. Based on Loki's face, he just made things even worse.

"Avengers are waiting for you. Besides, why would the great Iron Man want to be around a murderer like myself? Surely you have better things to do than make conversation with the person who just tried to invade your planet," Loki hissed, the look on his face looking more like self-hatred than anger, with his eyes starting to water.

For now, the most Tony could do was give Loki some space. He knew firsthand how it felt when someone tried to forcefully "help" you when you're in that place.

JARVIS suddenly started talking, which made both Tony and Loki jump.

"I apologize for startling you, but Dr. Banner is requesting you in the common area to go over the security camera footage," he informed Tony.

"Sorry. I gotta go, but maybe we can continue this later?" he told Loki, who's face somehow became even more expressionless.

Loki didn't respond, and, not wanting to mess things up even more, Tony left.

When he arrived at the common area, he found that Bruce had an image from the security cam footage from when Loki tried to brainwash him with the scepter pulled up on his screen with another one next to it from the camera in Loki's cell.

"Tony! Come here! Take a look at this!" Bruce said hurriedly.

"Okay? What exactly am I supposed to be seeing?" Tony asked confusedly.

"Look at his eyes!" Bruce exclaimed.

"I'm looking? I don't get it," Tony said.

"In the one from earlier, his eyes are blue, but in the one from his cell, they're green!" Bruce explained.

"So? Maybe he was using magic to change his eye color or something," Tony said, exasperated.

"Maybe, but look at this photo from when Clint was possessed," Bruce said, pulling up another image. The eye colors from the earlier Loki one and the one of Clint were the exact same.

"Holy shit! So you're thinking that Loki was possessed too?" Tony exclaimed, completely shocked.

"Language, Tony," Steve reprimanded as he walked into the room, "And what did you say about Loki being possessed?"

"Steve! Come over here! Take a look at this! His eyes were the same shade of blue as Clint's during the battle, but when he went into the cell, which nullifies all magic, by the way, they turned green!" Tony said excitedly.

Steve froze.

"Okay. Have you talked with Thor? The eye color change could've been because he was using his magic to make them blue," Steve asked.

"That's exactly what I thought, but it would be a huge coincidence for it to be the same shade," Tony explained, "JARVIS, can you call Point Break down here? We need to get to the bottom of this."

[freefallthoughtless]

12 days ago, I overdosed massively. On my prescription medication. I have zero memory of it. I was high on sleeping meds. The last thing I remember is sitting in my bed watching a movie and taking that sleeping pill. The next thing I remember is waking up in the hospital at 4am, 2 days later, in absolute panic because I could feel my body was fucked. And I had no memory of why I was in hospital, why I felt so awful. A nurse held my hand through a panic attack, but didn’t explain anything. I fought with panic for hours before I passed out again. I woke up around noon. I couldn’t walk or sit up without fainting. A doctor came in and told me they had a room ready for me at the psych ward. And I asked him “am I not already at S5?”. I thought I was, but I also knew I wasn’t, cause the room I was in didn’t look like the psych ward rooms. I asked him why they had painted the doors black and why the bathroom tiles were different than usually.

I asked him why I felt so bad, and he said it was because of the OD. I said “I haven’t od’ed”

But I had. He said it was clearly a suicide attempt but I couldn’t make that make sense, cause I had no memory of feeling suicidal.

He left and I asked a nurse for a charger because my phone battery was dead. And then I passed out again.

When I woke up and checked my phone, I had several messages from my friend Laura, asking me if I was okay. She was the one who had caught on to me not being okay, and she had contacted my support time, and they rang for an ambulance.

I replied saying I was okay. To ease her anxiety. I didn’t feel even close to fine. I was confused, scared and in physical distress still.

Different doctors and nurses came and went, I had trouble talking and thinking, which made communication with them difficult. I was so out of it. I couldn’t pee which they were very concerned about, they thought my kidneys were damaged.

Yet despite me not being able to even sit up, despite me not being able to talk properly, despite me being emotionally fucked as well, they allowed me to discharge myself. I knew I wasn’t ready, but I couldn’t stop worrying because my cat had been alone at home for two days.

My support team came and picked me up, I was in a wheelchair and even then I felt incredibly faint.

I came home. Charlie was perfectly fine. So I went straight to bed and slept for 14 hours. I was still unable to stand for long or walk more than a couple of steps without getting faint the next day. And my pee was dark brown even though I had hydrated myself plenty in hospital.

The daylight hours were okay at home and I spent they day piecing together what had happened. I found the packages from the medication I had od’ed on. I had taken 200mg’s of zolpedim (max dosage a day is 10mg) and 8000mgs of Seroquel (max dosage a day is 1200mg). It’s not the biggest OD I’ve taken, but I’ve never felt worse physically.

In the evening I began feeling suicidal and I got scared.

I ended up getting a doctor out to my apartment to assess me for being admitted to psych. But he said they didn’t have room so I should just take som PRN and relax.

I texted a friend saying I didn’t know what to do about it. She said her and her mom could come pick me up and I could stay with them.

So they did. I felt awful but I finally got some food, the first thing I had eaten in almost 4 days. And then we went to bed. I didn’t sleep a single second, but my friend was next to me, and a dog she was dog-sitting in the bed as well. And I felt okay.

She woke up at 8am the next day and we talked for a few hours, got breakfast and then we decided to nap for a bit and I finally got 4 hours of sleep.

At 3pm I went home. The walk to the bus stop was difficult and I felt so bad physically.

I was stilling peeing dark brown and decided with my support team to go see my doctor the next day to get my kidney function checked. But that evening my pee began getting clearer so I decided not to the next morning.

The next many days I was only in my bed. I slept or daydreamed for a whole week before I got a bit of energy back. I thought I’d never feel energy again.

My cat Charlie was so patient with me. She’s normally very active and vocal, but she just relaxed with me, cuddled with me and slept when I did. And she was so much more affectionate. I’ve never believed cats where that emotionally intuitive, but for that whole week she really was.

The past 3 days I’ve gotten more and more energy by the day, and I feel a lot better, physically and emotionally. It’s a big relief.

I’ve thought a lot about what would’ve happened if Laura hadn’t picked up on me being off when we texted that night.

When I was at my friends house we woke up to the winters first snow. And I thought “I’m lucky I’m around to see this snow”

When Charlie cuddled close to me and let me tuck my arm around her for the first time ever, and I had my head buried in her fur I thought “what would’ve happened to my little cat if I had died at home and she was alone like that”

When I told my closest friend group what had happened I remembered that they once had a talk about me, a few years ago, where they were mentally preparing themselves for losing me and I thought “I’m letting them down and making them feel like that again” and I didn’t bother telling them not to worry about me because how could they not?

When my little brother called and asked why I hadn’t responded for days I lied and said I had just needed good rest. And I remembered how he got PTSD and severe substance abuse issues when our foster mom committed suicide in 2012. And how he would be so alone if I wasn’t around, how I would’ve abandoned him too and I’d never know if he was okay or not.

I remembered I would’ve missed out on Christmas Eve, and how the day after Christmas eve last year was the best day I had had I so long, just laying on mattresses on the floor with my nieces watching tv, our limbs entangled, our fingers in each others hair and sleeping on and off together with Disney movies playing in the background.

I thought of my family and friends at my funeral and I had to stop thinking.

And then I felt so much grief. Because no matter how much I love my life, I still feel like I wasn’t ever meant for being alive. No matter how much I fight, no matter how many good times I have, I’ll always be mentally ill. I’ll always have so much trauma weighing me down. I can’t promise this will never happen again. I’ll always have to toe the line between keeping myself in check and being undeniably sick.

I get better. And then I get worse. Then I fight my way back and feel better. And then I get bad again. And it’s been like that for 15 years.

“I’m getting tired even for a phoenix; always rising from the ashes, mending all her gashes, you might just have dealt the final blow”

It’s strange and incredibly heartbreaking to be so in love with my life, but not thinking I should actually be alive.

I’m not actively suicidal. But I’m also feeling like that’s how I’ll die, tomorrow or in 20 years.

Charlie has come up to me for kisses right now. She’s too intelligent for an orange cat. I love her dearly.

I’ve been trying to process all of this. It’s scary. It hurts. It’s confusing. It makes me want my mom but I don’t have a mom. I’ve never had a real mom. Just pain from the people who had that real role.

That’s a pain like nothing I can explain. Feeling like a little kid, missing something so intensely, but not knowing why cause I’ve never felt like I had that, I can’t put a face to it, a scent to it, a memory to it, a real feeling to it. But it doesn’t stop the longing from saturating me.

I have so many incredible, loving and supportive people in my life. I’m rich on people. But the real deep feelings I always take care of myself. I’m best at taking in love when I’m okay. The bad stuff can only go away when I tough it out or daydream of being loved.

And why daydream of being loved to pieces like I’m not? Because I am. I can think of maybe 40 or 50 people who would be heartbroken that I’m gone. There’s so so many people in this world who can’t even think of 1. I’m devastatingly lucky in that sense, like I can’t even believe. I don’t feel lonely. I’m never more than a text or a phone call from so many people who would drop everything to help. But I rarely ask for help with anything emotional unless I’m piss drunk. Call it foster kid damage. But that’s an entirely different subject.

So. Truth is I could’ve very well died. And I can’t even remember why.

It’s almost Christmas, almost new years. And I feel horrible and relived at the same time. And doomed. More than anything, I feel doomed.

What happens now? Who am I now? Why does it feel like something important has shifted that I can’t define?

I want to live. But something in me has already given up.

[notgonnashutup]

The caregiving I received as an infant was: good. Mom and dad and sis and Mary babysitting, rocking me, holding me, playing with me. Playing soccer with me. Walking with me. Taking me to other kids so I could make friends and play, getting to play and have fun and feel confident, swimming and liking it, eating good food my dad mushed for me, drinking milk I loved it was in my first sentence just me asking for milk I liked instead of water. My mom scared I was a baby with a birth defect, probably everyone around me a bit scared for my health and maybe overly concerned I was okay, my sister with me all the time if my parents weren't, being treasured, playing and being cherished

How my mother felt about being my mother was: she wanted me. She wanted a baby, she made a baby room and got excited before having me. She was so worried about me being okay she had my sister go with me when they took me to icu. She was a hard worker balancing a new baby with work and did a good job. She was haply to be my mom, likes being my mom, loves me. She feels guilty now like she's the reason I had so many health issues like it's her genetics or mistakes when pregnant, but it's not her fault it's just life and luck. It's bigger than someone's fault. She did a good job when I was a baby. When I was a teenager I think she struggled with not being like her mom but Like her mom she felt Doing Anything even cruel things would be for My Own Good if it kept me safe in her mind. So I felt scared, and threatened, and controlled, and broken and wrong, for being my normal self and her responding extremely. I don't think she knew how to be a better parent, I know in retrospect she was trying. I wish instead she had asked me how I felt and let me cried and just held me. I wish when I struggled she had said is there anything she can do for me, and listened to me vent. I wish when I was in demographics she considered less safe like woman or queer or just weird, she had responded by being mad at the world with me and wanting the world to be better, instead of trying to push me into being a person I wasn't if that person was "safer." I know how to lie and act and keep myself safe. I can keep myself safe. But at home, with my mom, I felt like I wasn't safe and wasn't accepted and couldn't just be a regular flawed person with my own traits. I wish I could've felt safe to just be me. All of regular me. Safe to fail, to cry, to complain, to be tired, to frown.

In college when my mom was sick and I helped caretake her, I think she felt guilty and like a burden. I think she wanted to kill herself. I think she felt worthless and awful for not being able to work more, not bringing in more money, for needing to ask me to do stuff around the house and simple stuff like get her drinks. I think part of her lashed out at me so she'd feel like the badguy everyone Should hate. So I'd be mad at her so she could justify feeling she deserved to be hated. I think she also didn't know how to cope emotionally with her own pain and worthless feelings except lash out in frustration. And because I was her kid, I took it personally as my fault, my responsibility, my failing for not making her happier and fixing her sadness and suffering and self hate. Now I realize it wasn't my responsibility. Maybe a smarter more mature me would have confronted her directly and told her to respect me and treat me fairly or I'd leave. Would tell her I'm happy to do chores and get her things when she's in pain and can't walk, but I need a few minutes to do it and to NOT be yelled at if it takes me a few minutes. I need to be forgiven if I spill something and it's not a big deal if I need to clean up. And it's not a burden if I cry as well, it's stressful for everyone and I deserve to let my emotions out too. But I wasn't there yet in self realizations. Instead I felt guilty I couldn't make my mom happier, I felt worthless for spilling water, evil for crying or frowning or thinking my own thoughts. And somewhere through all that I got it into my head that I don't deserve to live just for being Me. I went down a wild path where I thought my purpose in life was to please others, make them happier when I'm around (even tho i dont control other peoples emotions they do), and if they're sadder or upset or they want more and I Don't do it then I'm awful and evil and deserve to die. Somewhetei forgot I deserve to be loved, cradled, comforted, to ask for things and want things qnd like things FOR ME

How my father felt about being my father was: he wanted me. He loved teaching me. He likes me for whatever I am, even if I'm an utter failure or destructive. He doesn't get how I think and I don't always get how he thinks, but he did mostly a good job and tried his best. I always felt safe with him. He won't abandon me if I have a panic attack lol, and he won't hurt me during one or ever, although he might say something I really don't need to hear lol when I have one because he thinks the things to say that help are what He'd need and not what I actually need lol. But he tries. And he tries to make sure I understand mom loves me, and mom doesn't want to lose me, even when sometimes she sounds like she wants me to go away and she says she's hurt Cause of me.

In response, I felt: when I was little I felt confident and supported the way I think you are supposed to. I did whatever I wanted, I got any material object or food I asked for within reason, I got to see my many friends. I got to be me fully. I felt secure I think. I felt like maybe I had to be the Best, the golden child, for my mom sometimes and my dad who wanted a Great Child. A child smart as them, so I had to be smart. Beautiful like them. Confident and popular. I was smart. And beautiful. And confident and popular so when I was little it wasn't too hard to be what they wanted. I didn't get held when I cried I mostly ran to my room and screamed and threw a fit alone. So no one really was around to comfort me when I was sad, so I don't remember it much. I think maybe my friends gave me that support and acceptance when I was weak and imperfect and sad and angry. I think acting Gave me that outlet too, because I could feel anything and blame it on a character instead of me being imperfect. I could act out and get what I needed from a friend acting, without having to ask the friend Raw and Honestly I'm X sad please help me. So I guess I felt lonely. Not lonely as in no people. Lonely as in no one to hold me, hug me, let me cry, no one to hear me scream why I was mad or sad or hurting. No one to sit with me and ask what's wrong, what might help, and give it to me. Baby mejo had to not cry when I got cuts scrapes pain. Baby mejo had to pull herself together and fix it herself, I could ask for help but my parents wanted to teach me to do it myself quickly and pushed Me to help myself more than I was ready. I had to soothe myself alone if I cried, and I wasn't good at it, I'd just scream and hit myself because I'd be in trouble for breaking other things or being too loud or cryingvat all. I wasn't supposed to cry. I guess I wasn't supposed to be cranky, sad, mad, upset, afraid. Baby mejo can't be scared of things. She had to go just be brave. Alone. I still do and it makes me so fucking sad. I think my friends emotionally supported me a little. But I couldn't open up to them totally, I probably felt too "guilty" for feeling bad emotions at all.

The ways in which these feelings affect me today are: I am so used to helping myself, protecting myself, doing things alone. I'm used to processing emotions alone, taking care of myself alone, assuming I can't rely on anyone else. Assuming other people don't want me when I'm sad, or even if they like me they'd rather wait to see or hear from me until I'm doing good and can talk and act pleasantly. I really trained myself to self sacrifice and hurt myself to help others, to the point of damaging myself, and to please others... and I know I don't want to be that anymore, but I still instinctively do it and have to catch myself and make myself stop doing it when I notice. I'm still scared to cry in front of people. I still don't ask for help from anyone else very much. It probably also made me pretty sick, who knows. I got panic attacks for a while cause of all this emotionally bottling.

I am able to trust others when: if I cry they are nice to me and don't yell or want me to go away. If they see me have a panic attack and they are safe, rather than an active danger during one. If I can tell them my sad or angry feelings or thoughts and they listen and remain my friend, keep talking to me. If they answer my calls or texts on the occasions I do ask someone for help or for something I want. It means so MUCH to me if someone picks me up when I need a ride, helps me get groceries when I need help, takes me for a walk when I need to scream and vent. If someone called me regularly and offered to come listen to me, take me out to escape, when I sounded sad to them or like I needed it, even if they were guessing and weren't sure, I'd feel so safe. I'd feel so loved, if someone proactively cared about me and if I needed something and was offering to help before I asked.

If I start gushing about what I like, I'm more likely to trust them if they respond positively. Maybe it's because my parents didn't always support my regular me with goth friends or queerness or weird style, so someone simply liking when I share my likes means they're more likely to accept rhe basic real surface level me and treat me nicely just for me. Rather than just parts of me.

I am unable to trust others when: they yell at me, they say they'll destroy something or insult. They say nice things but then do actions that contradict what they say, like saying they care about me then blowing me off. When they express interest in my surface accomplishments but avoid me whrn I express things I like or my emotions. I practice sharing my interests and at least shallow honest emotions "I had a rough week, I'm tired I'm sick, I'm a bit sad lately" so I do notice if people can or can't handle at least that.

My last romantic partner was like my initial caregiver(s) in: she probably saw me as smart, confident, beautiful, put together, a caretaker a responsible person. She didn't see me much when I was being messy emotionally but I think a lot of that had to do with me hiding that part of me so much out of fear. Even during the hardest conversation, our breakup, she cried and shared how she really felt and to be fair it was probably the most emotionally vulnerable she'd been with me. But I was not vulnerable then. I didnt tell her I was hurt, that I was angry. I didn't cry a ton and let it all out. I just pushed through like a business transaction, like a cold iron samurai soldier type, I just was logically accepting the truth and accepting that she didn't care for me and didn't want to feel emotions. Maybe I just avoid feeling my emotions a lot, bury them. Hide them from people, avoid acting on them.

What's the real flawed me I want to be loved? The me who cries, who's angry and shouts, who wears clothes I pick out. Who wears no makeup, who hates cooking, who spills food and drinks, who stains carpets and clothes, who loses it emotionally when I bottle too long and starts screaming and hyperventilating, who's a good person even though I am writing things I care about and making art I like even if it's Not Important to someone else. Someone who likes me if I cancel plans, who comes and gets me to check on if I'm sad even if I don't ask. Who I can disappoint once in a while who doesn't reject me for that.

My last partner i also did a lot for. As in I tried to contact her enough to make her happy, visit her and go out with her to make her happy, say yes to her. I tried to please her like my parents by being a Good Partner who Does enough and im not sure if I did it cause i cared about her or just because I felt I should and Ought to and wanted to Prove I was good at it.

My last romantic partner was different from my initial caregiver(s) in: she was safe to have panic attacks around, she didn't reject me for it. She was safe to cry around (although she didn't support me much during it). She liked things I liked mostly.

The similarities between the care I received as a child and my relationships today are: I people please. I try to present myself as The Better version of me who is beautiful, smart, put together, responsible, thoughtful of others and proactive in caring for them, proactive in doing things for them, drops things to help others even if maybe they haven't shown that investment in me yet (or ever). I am scared to be messy me, flawed me. I am scared people won't love me if I'm the person who spills food and stains clothes, or cries in public or asks them to hold me. I am scared no one wants to hold me when I need it, and even if they do then I'm scared they won't even offer to hold me unless I go ask for it.

[simpingwriter]

Jerome Valeska

x

Faith Wayne/Phoenix

'All you need

is a bit of Faith'

pt.3

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Playing 20 Questions, what better way is there to bond with each other!

Enjoy! :)

Word Count: approx. 4.706 Words

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"I don't know what the fuck you mean, Carrotboy." Was that really the best your stupid fucking brain came up with?! Bruce would be disappointed hearing your pathetic attempt at talking yourself out of this situation.

Almost as bad as the day Gordon deduced you as being the girl behind Phoenix and all you said was: "Wha? Me? Phoenix? Nah, old man." All while standing right next to Batman as casual as you unfortunately could be for an apparently all normal Gothamite. But today was really one of the days you could've used your brain to work for you and not against you.

Sometimes it felt like your brain was a mini version of Jason, throwing a set of Tim's DnD dice every morning just to decide whether or not it would be helpful or a menace/bother to you.

"Sure. And I am blonde." Yeah yeah, you get it, you really weren't good at lying sometimes, shut up buddy-boy. "Why do you care if I am or not?" You ask back instead, without explicitly confirming or denying his question either way, coughing a bit from the dust on the floor you disturbed by letting yourself fall onto your knees. All other cells beside yours and his were empty once more…the guard really decided to lock you two away. This felt like a less terrible Solidary.

You really shouldn't have thought too soon when you saw that Solidary Holding Sign last time…this is all dragging your time for this investigation out. This is going to take foreverrrrrrrr. You feel yourself go insane already, alone at the fact that you're here already for one and a half days and you hadn't made ANY progress.

"I just…it's weird. I have been here since a whole hellish month now and no one gave a fuck about me, except if they could steal my lunch or push my head into it." It's not like the food here is very missable, you bet. But it would explain why he looked a bit…thin…for his age and height. "Hungry then, I'm guessing?" "Fuckin' starving, girly."

You hum at that, placing your forehead against the rough gray bricks of the wall that was between you two. "If they at least wouldn't have locked me in here as well – after all its not like I can't stand up for myself –, I could have gotten us something. Doubt it's worth it though? Tastes like dog food?" The ginger on the other side chuckles, wincing out audibly due to some of his healing facial wounds though, "You betcha, but if it's the only thing you get here and you got no connections to the guards, it's gonna taste at least mediocre very soon."

Let's hope you're not here for too long to test out his assumptions on the food.

"So if you're not an inmate…who are you? A guard they snuck in? To hear us out? Are they perhaps suspecting a breach?" Guessing you as a guard wasn't too far off. You didn't know him, you didn't know if one of your siblings or even Bruce caught him and threw him in here, so you would definitely not reveal your identity as Phoenix to him. That would be so fucking stupid either damn way, you didn't reveal that to even your best friends. After all it was an incredibly important rule next to the "Do not kill your enemy." Rule. A rule you and Jason regularly acted like it doesn't exist. Oops.

Never reveal your identity to ANYONE without Bruce's explicit permission. Not just for the protection of the Family's secret and their safety but also for the safety of the people you're all close to, both those that knew you all as the masked heroes/vigilantes or as the normal citizens you're outside of Patrols or missions.

"Not a guard. Don't you think you would've seen me before then?" While you continued talking to him, your eyes scanned the surroundings a second time, hoping you missed something but you got the sense you would have to use some of the things you sneaked into the Asylum. The positives of being a female "Inmate" while only men were on shift for registration? They couldn't legally frisk you, even at Arkham. "I don't know. As said, been here for a month only now…you could've been on vacation beforehand." "Trust me, what I actually …my job doesn't even know what month-long vacations are. A weekend...maybe." You stand up from your dusty, dirty spot on the floor, brushing your now cement-dusted hands off on your already nasty looking prisoner uniform before slipping a small black plastic object from your cleavage. Big tits had their various perks on various occasions, like great hiding spots for small tools. Like your trusty, assorted lockpicks in the form similar to a pocket knife. Never going anywhere without it.

"...Are you still-" He stops himself when he hears a small click from the side of your cell, then the "quiet" sliding of a metal door. And when he turned his head, you were already outside his own cell, crouching over to work on the lock of his cell door. His eyes widened at how quiet your footwork seemed to be that he didn't even hear you walk out of yours and over to his cell. "How did…how are you not afr- " "Shhh, I watched their pattern yesterday, that of the guards. They periodically take 20 minute breaks while the cells are empty and are usually gone for another extra 15 because why the hell should they watch empty cells after all, right?"

He watches you pick the lock with no sweat caused, nodding a bit unsure at your explanation, not knowing any better himself as he crawls backwards slowly once you slid his cell door open as well, not shutting it fully behind you as well to get out again more quickly once you had to.

"Yeah no…you're definitely not a guard. Fucking hell…who are you!?" You squint at his defensive position, looking up at you from his small, almost curled up spot on the ground. His black eye was healing better than you expected for the fact that he seems to be missing the important minerals and vitamins to have his body heal his wounds at a normal rate. Depending on how long you're stuck here as well, you had to somehow get him something to eat…perhaps you could bribe a guard to get him actual food. Not the other…"food". Eh, disgusting.

"Fine, I'll tell ya. But first of all, get off the damn floor, you look at me like you think I would stomp your head in. Why should I beat you up after I stopped that SUV-build of a man from taking care of that job? Makes no sense at all." He must've realized so too, looking to the side in embarrassment before using the wall next to him to stand up and move over to the "bed" in the left corner of the room, next to the wall of your cell.

After one night on them already, your comfort-spoiled back cracked like a nightlight stick this morning, you were way too used to the comfy, perfect mattress of your bed at home…hmm, not too soft, not too hard…

You snap out of your daydream when you see the confused tilt of his head, waiting for your reveal and your explanation. First though, you had to make something sure. "How are the wounds?" He frowns a bit, yet shrugs, "Nothing I didn't have to deal with before…" Was he a street kid before he was taken here? You then would expect him to be just slightly better at defending himself, or at least at avoiding the grudge of others.

"Street kid?" "...Well, no. I was able to avoid that at least. I uh…nevermind." "Fine, then I'll keep my secret as well." You claim boldly, throwing yourself next to him onto the hard bed, nearly touching him at how close you came by accident.

Sitting this close, you were able to look at his bandaged face much better, his suddenly wide open eyes revealing what a beautiful shade of dark green they were. What a shame that he was probably absolutely nuts, the slight sign of usually probably very obvious freckles on his face would almost melt away your first opinion of him: Inmate in Arkham, hands off.

"W-what? No! I wanna know…" "How 'bout a game then? 20 Questions." "That...is not a game."

It was to you and your adoptive siblings, well, when you all were still younger at least. It was the best game next to 'I spy with my little eye' to pass the time with on Patrol and to you it was the early bonding time you often missed out on with them back then in your own opinion. It was a good trick to make them be a bit more open about themselves, maybe it worked with the Ginger too. "It is, you just don't have enough imagination i guess. 20 Questions, no lying. Deal?" Stretching your hand out towards the pale one in his lap, you smile sweetly at him. If all of Arkham already hates you two, why shouldn't you two team up at least?

"...Deal. But I ask the first one." Sure, why shouldn't he, if it makes him happy.

"If you're not a guard, who are you then?" Didn't expect any other question, to be fair. But you made the rules yourself, no lying. Well, to a degree with this question, you definitely wouldn't reveal your identity THIS easily, to an Arkham inmate even less. "A Detective Aide." It wasn't a complete lie, you're technically under questionable contract with Jim, in case the media ever wondered how you, a normal citizen, ended up at so many of the crime scenes, seemingly helping the real Detectives with their jobs.

"...wait. You're with the GCPD??" Seems like you struck a sensitive spot with that already, even his bruised eye opening a bit alongside his other one from the shock as he scoots away from you by a few inches. "I'm guessing the GCPD then caught you for whomever you killed?" His green eye caught your dark blue ones, he looked like a deer in headlights, "Y-you could say that. Yeah…I was finally free and they threw me back into a new cage…"

Finally free?

"My turn. What the hell is your name anyway, I don't want to keep calling you Ginger or Carrotboy for all eternity." "Well, unlike me, if you're working with these corrupt dickwads, you aren't exactly stuck an eternity here, are ya?" Well, it heavily depends on how long they would let you simmer in the cells and nothing else. Might as well become an eternity with your usual amount of luck.

"...oh…and it's Jerome. Jerome Valeska. Yours?" Huh. You swore you heard that name somewhere before, you just didn't know exactly where. If he killed someone, he might've been in the news that day? Though this was Gotham's newspapers you're thinking about here, if they'd waste even an inch of paper for one measly murder case, it'd be really fucking odd.

But a mass murder caused by the Joker's Laughing Gas? Yeah. That would probably manage to find a spot. Somewhere.

"I take that as your second question, Jerome. My name…well, first I need you to promise to not utter it to anyone in here." "Do you realize that they'd punch my teeth out before I could even mention it?" Point taken at that, yeah, who even knew if they would believe him if they already wanted him dead for some reason.

"My undercover name is Magdalena…but my real name is Faith Wayne."

Till now, all your answers already sent some kind of fresh shock anew through him, so once more he stared at you in disbelief, "Faith…Wayne?! You're a-" "Wayne isn't an uncommon surname, mind you." He pulls his brows up, having a hard time believing you, not that 'Wayne' is common for a surname. But that you're not A Wayne.

"But are-" "Yeah." "Damn. …How did a Wayne end up as an Aide? I would expect you to someday get your father's company…or at least work there by now." And be hated by all of Gotham, not just its mass of criminals!? HA. NO!

"I...would rather not…too much work, which I already got enough of on most days." Cleary your answer only spawned more fresh question marks in Jerome's head as he kept looking at you just as lost as before. "Adopted or…"

"Biological."

"So…with you knowing that I am a Wayne, yay, you basically know where I live alread-" "Some extremely extravagant old-money house I am guessing." Nail on the head, yeah. You nod at that, in a 'More or less' way before you pick your interrupted sentence back up, "Where did you live before your address was changed into Arkham?" He had started picking at his fingers, especially the dry skin around his nails as he pulls his lips into a grimace. His home didn't give him good memories then, like most people that were here now. You doubt there is even one Inmate in Arkham that didn't have at least one bad or even terrible memory of their old homes.

"A…a traveling Circus. Does Haly's Circus ring a bell?" Ring a bell?! It was etched into your mind from your brother's childhood stories. Of course you did. "I…I actually know very well what Circus you mean…one of my adopted brothers lived and worked there with his parents as well." His mouth formed an O at that, surprise even more evident even with his still aching wounds keeping his facial expressions on the low pretty much, but he definitely didn't look like he wanted to be left in the dark about your Brother now. "Does the name Grayson ring a bell to you then?"

He was unsurprisingly quick to nod at that, "The flying Graysons. I heard of the "incident" that killed them back then from some talk I overheard while working, I was only 3 then yet though, when they died. So I fortunately didn't witness it, even if, I wouldn’t remember I guess…" You couldn't believe it, of course they most likely never met, but Dick was in the same Circus as the ginger next to you. It was shocking how small the world sometimes really was, but not all that weird if your own whole life circled around nothing but Gotham and the surrounding area…

For a few moments, both of you sat quietly, working on digesting and processing the new information: For you it was the Circus that connected you to two people now, for Jerome the fact that your a Wayne.

He would've expected anything but that.

He was first to continue though, turning more towards you so he didn't have to crane his neck to the side the whole time, leaning against the wall as he pulled his legs against his chest, mustering you more thoroughly, "So…how is it living with a billionaire dad?" Yeah, how was such a life?

"Pretty damn boring sometimes. Not even because I can have or do have everything I would possibly want, nah, he didn't raise us like that must I add. But…the fucking events, the gala about every. second. month. They make us want to bash our heads in, to put it bluntly but honest. My second oldest brother was close to making it a reality once because he hates formal suits like the plague." It was something you rarely confessed to other people, as you promised to keep a somewhat good impression in front of strangers for Bruce, so it felt a bit weird feeling so at ease with sharing your distaste for your boring ass rich kid life with the boy in front of you.

Maybe because there was an incredibly low chance he would ever see the world beyond the gates of Arkham again to talk about your deeply personal feelings…

Why did that idea sound so…terrible to you? He killed someone for God's sake! ...He still didn't look the part either way, his ginger hair, crusted over even now with his own blood, one stray, unruly lock of it hanging away and over his forehead, the dimmed freckles on his face, nose and even going down his neck, probably continuing on his shoulders...and the rest of his body. The deep interest buried into his unbruised eye at all the things he got to know about you and all it made him want to know more about you.

Had you met him outside of Arkham, he would've never come to your mind as the subject of probably cold blooded murder. And from all of Batman's "Robins", you're the one that could see through the many masks of your fellow humans the best. So why, if there was one, could you not see through his? "Do...do I have something on my face?" Wait, have you been staring at his face the whole time of your stupid inner monologue!? Oh great, not weird at all, Faith. But you're literally here as a crazy person, undercover, but either way: you were allowed to stare.

"A few freckles are saying hi. But other than that, no."

"Don't start with them now…I can't even count as far for how often I was bullied for them at that stupid fucking shithole of a Circus before! I hate them!" He hates his...freckles? Why? They aren't even that prominent on him, which might be due to the current lack of daily sunlight in Arkham. But how can anybody bully someone for them, you wished you had freckles but noooo, your Dad's stupid genes made you look so damn basic, black hair, blue eyes, wohoo baby... "I think they look really nice on you, though I think you need to get out into the sun a bit more again…" "...Nice!? I doubt anyone ever even thought about complimenting them…" Jerome laments, first caught off guard, then in thought, brushing with his non-bandaged hand over said few still visible patches of them on his cheeks. It was very obvious that he was badly self-conscious about them, a random girl telling him that she liked them wouldn't be able to fix years of negative comments about them like magic.

Sometimes you wished insecurities worked that way though, that all a person needs is ONE compliment and everything is forgotten. But nothing is ever that easy.

"Well, you were surrounded by cunts then. I doubt you will ever have to see any of these people again though, so forget what they said about you. The past is the past, live in the present, and always keep planning ahead for the future." A short, melancholic chuckle shook his body for a moment as he also shook his head, letting the hand fall back onto his knees as he toyed with the pillow in his other hand. As much as the bandage let him at least. "What future…this cell is my only future, where they will let me rot and decay if need be. I will die in here, either from malnutrition, the other nutcases here…or myself. Whoever or whatever is quicker." He tried to hide it, but you saw his eyes both glaze over, quick to soak the threatening tears up with the bandage around his right hand.

He knew his most likely fate. So did you.

So why did you tell him about all this, knowing it would only hurt him further? Were you that detached from reality sometimes?

"I'm sorr-" "It's okay." "No it isn't, I…I forget my manners or to think through my words, especially now. I can't help it..." The last time you took your medication was two days ago now, the afternoon before this Undercover Mission began. This is exactly what you wanted to avoid, had the accident yesterday not happened – would you be able to investigate now instead of being stuck in the cell blocks because otherwise your head would be attempted to be smashed into pancake batter – you could've managed with the steady decline of the meds missing in your system.

"Why?" Asks the actual inmate, yeah thanks. "Impulsivity Disorder, a bit like ADHD but without all the other shtick connected to that. So even if I am not a real Inmate…I have a bit of a crack running through my noggin too. Ha…ironic sometimes…" Phoenix, a vigilante hunting down the insane and crazy of Gotham…is one of them. Well, your condition is still much more mild than whatever is wrong with some of the women and men in here, you don't violently rip the head of Squirrels off to eat them like Cocoa Puffs, for a quite brutal but unfortunately not made-up and gruesome example. "And you? Has anyone ever told you what made you…you?" He shook his head yes, but didn't immediately come out with the words, instead he felt his eyes wander up to the ceiling of the cell. Just as boring and plain as everything else around the two of you – the only interesting aspects right now.

"..."Diagnosed" as a psychopath…if they only knew how long it took for me to get pushed this far…too far." Air quotes added to the word 'Diagnosed' woke your curiosity anew as you used the fact of the beds being slightly wider than a normal single bed format to lie down with your head at the opposite end of it, slightly tilted to position your now propped up legs, one folded over the other, next to his. He looked caught off guard how even after, especially after, he confessed his own condition, his reason for being in Arkham and not a normal prison, you kept being so close to him on your own free will. Hell, you even got more comfortable.

...Psychopathy.

Psychopaths are good at hiding their true selves, but as you mentioned earlier, you were uncannily good at seeing through such masks as well. And yes, that included those of Psychopaths and Sociopaths. So when your first thought of "Shit, he is probably only acting shy, he might be manipulating you." crossed your mind, moments after you heard of his diagnosis, "diagnosis", it was just as quickly rubbed away again by that comically large mental eraser when you realized that you would've most certainly noticed if that werethe damn case. If he would've had lied till now.

But he took this game of questions as serious as you hoped he would. Unlike your unruly siblings sometimes, especially your youngest brother, that little Garden Gnome with an attitude.

"Why the air quotes?" You ask the question that burned you the most of all he just said, wanting to know how it came to said diagnosis. "You're gonna laugh…a Detective just wrote it down. Arkham accepted it as a real diagnosis, didn't question it at all. They didn't even call for a "second assessment". Air quotes this time because there wasn't a first one in the first place of fucking course…" So…it might be some other mental problem…or none at all. But the GCPD wanted to make their job easier, or that one Detective at least…

Even after everything you and your family are trying to do, everything the Commissioner is trying to do…corruption is eating up even the Police to this very day. Will Gotham ever see the day that the innocent and the rightful, the law abiding citizens win? Well, Jerome still killed someone, he wasn't really all that innocent. But he had been helpless either way in that moment, his fate was left in the hands of the Detectives and Officers taking care of his file, his case. In the hands one was supposed to be able to trust.

"...You mentioned that you were…pushed too far. If it's not too personal, who…was your victim? One of your bullies?" The pillow was gripped very tightly suddenly at your question, a dark look overshadowing his own curiosity as you realized he was about to lose to his tears again, angry ones this time. "No." "Then-" "I killed my mother." Oh. Oh damn.

And that was the same thing and only thing that you managed to form with your IQ of impressive 160. "Oh. Oh damn."

"Yeah, I doubt you want to hear that. They didn't listen either."

Because they don't care. All they saw was a crazy, probably insane boy that killed his poor mother, they didn't care to dig any further, you don't doubt that with these underpaid fuckwits sometimes. As often as you had to work with them, you wished you didn't have to, but it was a deal made with Jim. As your Patrols didn't often end all that calmly, much like Jason's. The two of you were only "Robins" not turned off by the idea of "accidentally" dragging a criminal across the asphalt with your cars or motorcycles. And Jim knew that. Being the closest to you of all of Batman's Sidekicks, he also was much more lenient.

Help the GCPD every once in a while with something too difficult for their normal Detectives and your own "crimes" don't make it into the files. Sometimes you could throw in a good word for Jason as well.

You had to work with people whose work ethics made you question even the system you were supposed to protect with your family. If anything, it needed to be reformed, not the people alone. Desperately.

"No. I do. I'm not the police, I do want to know." "Didn't you just say you're an Aide for them?" Well... yeah. You did. So what.

You lift your head to lock eyes with him, eyebrows knitted together at him in some way or another for calling out your one half-lie between all your truthfulness until now. You definitely wouldn't acknowledge it this time, he would have to believe either the first or the latter version. But only you knew that both are right in a way. "You have the chance to tell your side of the story to someone who promises to listen and you begin questioning that person's occupation?"

He returned the same irritated expression, as much as he could without wincing out again, holding the bandage over his cheek before grumbling out at you, since not only you knew that you're right. "...all…all of it?" "If it is needed to explain your reasoning of going with such a brutal decision of killing your own mother, yes. All of it."

His mother forced him to take care of nearly all chores around their small, crammed trailer that 3 people had to live in. If he wasn't fast enough or she found the smallest something to complain about in how he did it, and he told you that she found a reason basically every damn time, Lila, he said was her name, would beat him. Often, regularly and routinely even, to the point he wouldn't just bruise but also bleed or have to limp for weeks from how hard she would hit him, naturally with help of other objects than her hands as well.

The last ten minutes of your sneaked in stay in his own bleak cell were spent with him telling you about his childhood, of growing up at Haly's ever since he could remember. Of course all that while you made sure to analyze every twitch of a muscle and any non present one, the movements of his hands. Everything. He begins with the fact that he even had a twin brother, named Jeremiah. Of the cruel way the other residents and workers of the Circus treated him as a kid. All he was used for by the Circus was to dispose of the dung and shit all the Circus' animals left behind after the shows and feeding or cleaning routines.

All the while, she fucked a new man every second day, right in the next room or trailer, depending on who the newest man was. Clowns, Acrobats, Lion-Tamers…everything.

Then he told you about what his brother did to him, how their mother only turned her punishments and beating up a notch of extreme…because his twin told their mother that Jerome wanted to kill him in his sleep. Jerome was adamant towards you about that having been a blatant lie, as he couldn't have even done so, he was locked in a literal animal's travel cage that winter night, by his own mother as well, so she could've denied it too.

And one night, Jerome confessed, he could no longer hold onto his rage, his anger that build for all these years…he just couldn't hold it back any longer. He let his vile, dark thoughts become real and he killed her, but he waited until she touched him again, when she came in to beat him for forgetting to clean the beer cans up. With an axe, he explained, his eyes unfocused as he stared at his hands, those that held the murder weapon. His uncle, he said that fact with a sour tone, helped him try to cover it up but as he was here now, it clearly didn't work.

But she didn't, she simply used that event as an incentive to "discipline" the "black sheep of her family" even further.

You could only imagine the amount of nights Jerome spent trying to find any spot of his body he cpuld lie on without putting pressure on his bruised skin. The tears that must've fallen in all these hellish nights...

And then you were all caught up to his situation, eyes wide the whole time, your continuous follow up questions, for everything he told you with a knot in throat, just as choked out as his answers. You simply couldn't or didn't want to believe that he went through all these things…and he defended himself…he wanted…freedom.

And Arkham is what he got in return…

"Jerome, I-" you just wanted to give him your honest opinion on it all when you hear it in the distance: the jingling of two heavy key rings. The guards are coming back! "What?" Your hearing seems to be better than his as you hushed him, quickly sitting up on the bed to push a finger against his lips, getting incredibly close to the now unhindered crying boy. Again, an action from your side that happened without much thought from your end as you motioned him to either be quiet or to whisper now.

You didn’t want to leave his side already, especially not now! He looked like he was about to fall in on himself like an old building with you causing him to dig back up all of this past trauma, having given up to hold back the tears. His eyes puffy, they look into yours like a kicked puppy,

"Please don't leave me now…"

In that moment you realize that you're probably the first person he told about his abuse, about everything…a stranger he met yesterday was kinder and more understanding than any adult or other person he came across in his poor excuse of a life. He deserves to have at least one person to listen to him.

To hear him out.

But you had to leave for now, get back to your own cell before the guard saw that you had the tools to open them yourself. With a bitter, apologetic smile, you slowly get off his bed, nodding slowly at him when he keeps silent. But you couldn't give a promise without words either way, so, when you slide the cell door open as quietly as even possible, you turn towards the now absolutely miserable looking ginger one last time for today it seemed.

"We will talk more…I promise, just have some Faith."