#nobody ever said anything but I found out by like typing something into the search bar that was work related so

[shadwife]

One of the worst things to happen to me was I logged into my personal gmail on my work computer that I shared with another coworker and it somehow logged me into chrome and synced my browser history from my phone so all of the fanfiction I’ve ever looked at was there. I didn’t notice for months.

My favorite pastime was once talking with my best friend while we search up messed up stories for whatever media franchise we could think of so we can read them out loud to each other, so my browsing history was… not tame.

[sh0tanzz]

eunseok as a bf pls!! 🫶🏻

imma try to be as unbiased as I can since he's my literal bias 😭

euseok as your boyfriend based on astrology

(reminder that this for fun and astrology is something I study for a hobby, these are all inferences based off of observations and not exact fact unless I knew him myself !!)

warnings: small mention of sexual innuendo but nothing extremely graphic I'll only do NSFW asks if requested.

Pisces Sun: Briize have questioned how Eunseok and Wonbin are both pisces but are sooo different personality wise, this is why it's important to take other placements and aspects into account !! His other placements lead to his sun sign manifesting/presenting differently. He will be super intuitive about how you feel, will tell if you're uncomfortable, excited, scared without having to ask or you telling him. differently. Very willing to accomodate things for you, would be very willing to share and would even have a plan right away if you needed anything. Would want to help you feel better if you were upset IMMEDIATELY especially since his capricorn moon would want to search for solutions over letting you ruminate. Would compare experiences he's had with yours so you never feel isolated.

Capricorn Moon: The moon is uncomfy in capricorn leading to being very restrictive with their emotions, this causes people to stereotype Eunseok as "cold". However Eunseok having a capricorn moon whilst having a pisces sun and mercury (&his moon/saturn is well aspected rather than harshly) could make him have good emotional regulation. He would be more reserved and closed off with his feelings but wouldn't leave you completely in the dark, however he might have a hard time expressing himself but wouldn't lash out his suppressed emotions at you. He'd want to be your rock..like literally. His pisces placements makes him understand your emotional standpoint and cap moon will help aid you with logic. Extreme gentleman type, he'd even want to essentially protect you in a way. Eunseok would be quietly protective, very protective of your emotions/well being and would help you address your feelings. Would tell you what you need to hear not what you want to hear and would have very good advice when you were in emotional dilemmas. Would be very grateful that you can understand him better than others.

Pisces Mercury: yk how nobody ever knows what he's gonna say next. This is why LMAO. His handwriting might be a bit messy or his text would be lowkey vague or random..like he'd randomly tell you he's 5 mins from your house when the convo was a completely diff subject. Or instead of just texting back he'd call ? However he'd be sort of stuck on how to express himself (literally said if he accidentally liked his crush's post on insta he'd delete the account.) When pursuing you he'd be shy to let you know he likes you until he found a fun lighthearted moment to fully confess to you with. He'd surprisingly know what you mean when you aren't making sense at all like you could be spewing nonsense and he'd...get it ? Makes you laugh to the point you tear up a little bit. Would laugh/joke you out of your panties I fear. LOl

Aries Venus: I feel like this (+his mars) is the fuel for the "Eunseok fwb/player/sneaky link" fanfics tbh 😭😭. I've dated an aries venus so I have a personal understanding of the placement. He'd mess with you, A LOTTT omg if you had no haters Eunseok would be dead, but it all comes from him being unable to be sappy with you and only can express his complete fondness for you through teasing you. Wouldn't let people that weren't him mess with you however LOL He'd want to take the lead of the relationship. Would flirt at random 😭 which would leave you so flustered because whereee did that come from ??? the compliments and flirting would be DEEP. Might be into a little push and pull dynamic as long as you understood each others feelings. Would value his independence however and would want/let you indulge in your independence and own time as well. Now there's an observation that aries venus can fall out of love fast once they feel like the spark and energy is gone which can be true but his venus is in retrograde..based on other aspects in his chart it seems like the venus in retrograde neutralizes the flaky energy of his venus in aries making him less likely to just ditch you. Would want lots of passion and exponential energy in the relationship.

Sagittarius Mars: I have this placement HA. I doubt severe arguments would happen or he'd at least not be quick to anger/he wouldn't be mad for that long like aries mars. Would use physical action to exert built up energy (that time he was super excited and started dancing too hard). Super forward and blunt which once again make his flirting so jaw dropping. Is secure the majority of the time but will just have random moments of being jealous. Loves winning like yea you're his s/o but he still loves the taste of sweet victory. Sag rules the hips and thighs (wink wink) so he might be attracted to how your hips look or like when you wear clothes that accentuates yours. Might hold you by your hips or lower waist. May sit you on his lap or would lay his head across your lap. Keeps a hand on your upper leg.

Other Aspects:

Sun/Saturn Sextile: Very responsible and reasonable. When a serious situation unfolds it'll be easier to rely on him with support and trusting him with certain task won't be regrettable.

Mercury/Saturn Square: Even when being honest he might censor some of his feelings for your sake, like if he was upset he'd let you know he was upset but wouldn't go into that much detail.

Potential Toxicity: (reminder that any/everyone is capable of having toxic or negative traits, these could be POTENTIALLY true)

Aries Venus+Sag Mars: Isn't negative or toxic by itself ofc but if expressed negatively he might be super dismissive about his romantic past and carry past worries into the new relationship without fully acknowledging/processing it, can also be a bit too nonchalant to where he can be unintentionally harmful.

[literatureloverx]

To frame this analysis, I want to first point out a letter written by fyodor. For a letter most don't have access to, it puts into perspective a LOT about fyodor's character that was previously only speculated through analysis. It was given out during the manga's 10 year anniversary, you can search it up by typing 'fyodor letter bsd'.

But I will copy it here: "I have nothing to say. There is no one who supported me anyway. That's why there is no word I have to say. To anyone at all. Let alone words of celebration. It is impossible. I have always been alone. And that is fine by me. Has been, and always will be. Well... I felt a little less bored when I was playing chess with Dazai-kun. But that's it."

Now this points out something especially interesting, that out of all the people that served him, all the people who worshipped him through his manipulation, for hundreds and hundreds of his years of living, Fyodor found no substance through any of it. Fyodor is lonely, inevitably lonely not only because he has never let anyone into his mind (and uh. Not many people want to hang out with the guy who straps bombs onto kids), but because near nobody can understand him because, as pretentious as it sounds, he lives in a realm of "genius".

Fyodor lives in a world of sin that he sees himself as above, and wishes to find the book and write a "correct" world under God where there is no sin. And he also lives in a world he is bored of because nobody can challenge him. He explicitly uses the word "bored" in his letter. He is never shown to "like" his servants being completely submissive for pleasure, he just does it because he cannot trust anything straying. Now does this mean Fyodor wants to control those around him? Yes. Does this show that Fyodor finds this obedience engaging? No.

The only person he has shown interest in (not in a romantic way) is Dazai, who is the only one who can level at his playing field. This makes me wonder, is Fyodor's "type" someone far from who he would actually fall for? I feel that to grow interested in someone, Fyodor needs someone who can challenge him. Someone out of his control because they understand him on a level that others cannot, because they are on his equal. Fyodor left his life of boredom through one-sided "companionship" with Dazai.

Note: I find it kinda pathetic of Fyodor to seem so eager about their meet-ups too, since Dazai seems to hate it LMAO

Now I can see Fyodor WANTING to control someone for that safety net and I definitely can't see him going out of his way to get with someone if they're in the way of what he's after, no matter how much he loves them. Bro straight up tries to kill his favorite "chess partner". But it seems that if Fyodor ever wants to pursue a GENUINE relationship, he needs to leave his comfort zone because the only ones who will give him substance will be far outside.

This wasn't meaning any hate or anything, I just wanted to point out traits about Fyodor's character that i've observed, but also to hear your thoughts :D

(Also I can see Fyodor falling for not only someone who can challenge him but someone with a great love for humanity and empathy)

Wow, this was so detailed and awesome to read! Thank you very much for writing this. ❤️

I will break down my perspective on this analysis as you asked me to, but I can say that I agree with most of your points. ❤️

First of all, I know the letter you’re talking about. It actually made me sob for a while when I first read it. I felt the loneliness almost in my own body—the situation he’s in must be so dehumanizing for him.

That being said, I considered many of Asagiri’s explanations about the characters (the letter you cited, the one about White Day, their ideal types, etc.) and formed my interpretation of Fyodor this way.

I absolutely agree with the point that Fyodor is bothered by boredom and that he needs someone who can challenge him.

The question here is, what kind of challenge?

In this case, my point was: someone who can challenge him emotionally (as this is an underdeveloped aspect of his, since he really doesn’t have much opportunity to form meaningful connections with others). Not someone who matches his own mastermind (like Dazai, for example). He values Dazai's ability to read his mind but is not particularly invested in any kind of connection besides that of rivals since he can’t trust him. There is no longing for friendship (a meaningful connection) there. Just Do, Do, Do, and win.

Now, I also believe, like you said, since his motives are not bound to himself but rather the greater good of humanity, the most important thing for him to do is indeed—to win. How is he supposed to cleanse humanity of their sins otherwise?

Where my interpretation differs from yours is that I genuinely think he is very comfortable with being the lead in any kind of situation. What he is uncomfortable with is—guess what? Vulnerability, in general. Just like Dazai. And the most challenging vulnerability to overcome, in my interpretation, would be emotional vulnerability.

In my opinion, he would be interested in someone who can challenge him mentally but not strategically. He knows that feeling. It is true that Dazai quenches his thirst for competence and competition in that sense, but is such a person truly fit for Fyodor?

My main issue with a strategically competent partner is the high possibility of Fyodor never being able to fully trust her. I’ve read many headcanons and fanfictions about him and such a partner, but it never really clicked in my mind.

The aspect of him preferring an intelligent individual over a shallow one is, I think, a very common perception of his character in the fandom, which I wholeheartedly agree with.

But: emotional intelligence is a very powerful aspect of intelligence, as well.

Him wanting to control her for security reasons is absolutely valid in my opinion and interpretation too, since it was what I meant in the first place anyway. He wouldn’t manipulate his partner just for the sake of it—he is too deep of a character for that.

Overall, I hope I haven’t missed any of the aspects you were referring to. I’ll gladly edit my post if anything is missing! ❤️

In conclusion, I LOVED your analysis. I’m very glad when someone makes me think deeper about my own thought process and interpretations. Anything of that kind is deeply welcomed and appreciated! ❤️

To read my other works => MASTERLIST

[notwhatiam]

OKAY.

So.

I was on a call with my parents today.

We were talking about the Inside Job cancellation, because I’ve been really upset about it and they were actually the ones who got me into the show in the first place. I was saying how weird and unfair it was that it just got pulled out of the blue, when my dad chimed in with something along the lines of, “yeah, but it’s not as though this kind of thing hasn’t happened to the show before. Remember that episode from the end of Part 1 that Netflix ended up taking down?”

And I was immediately like

And my mom and dad were like, “yeah, you don’t remember? That episode at the end of the first part of Season 1. The one with Reagan’s childhood friend that Rand erased from her memory.”

I said, yeah, the part where Reagan goes into her own mind and discovers that she had a friend named Orrin that Rand made her forget. At the end of the episode, she goes back to the present and uses his name as the password to shut down Bear-O and save her friends. That episode is still on Netflix. It didn’t go anywhere.

They were like, “no, but then there’s another episode AFTER that. The one where we find out what actually HAPPENED to Orrin.”

According to them, there was a lost eleventh episode after Inside Reagan. This episode revealed that Rand had trapped Orrin in a cartoon-inspired play land where he had been stuck for the last twenty years. Everyone in the real world thought he had died, and his dad had turned into a broken-down shell of a man over the loss of his son. Reagan and Rand ended up going into the cartoon world to try to save him, and they found out that Orrin had been surviving the whole time by breeding with the cartoon creatures and eating their offspring. They said that they were really confused when they went back to rewatch the first season and the episode wasn’t there, but they could also understand why it had been taken down, because it was honestly one of the most disturbing pieces of television that they had ever seen.

At this point in the conversation, I just assumed that they were messing with me. It’s not like they don’t have a history of pulling twisted shit like this (for context: my dad told me to start watching Inside Job in the first place because he relates to Rand and thought I’d relate to Reagan, and he was 100% right), so I asked them straight-up if they were trying to play some kind of prank. A “ha-ha, you made your own Mandela-effect-style conspiracy” type of prank. They swore up and down that they weren’t lying, and that they both distinctly remembered watching this episode together. They were shocked that I had never seen it, and the entire time over the past year and a half that we’ve been talking about the show, they had thought that this was a part of our shared experience.

So commenced the weirdest Googling spree that I have ever been a part of. I looked for “Inside Job lost episode”, “Inside Job episode 11”, and then a lot of stuff like, “kid gets trapped in cartoon world and mates with creatures to eat their offspring” (which provided a LOT of results, but nothing useful for any purpose except probably for sending the FBI to my house). My parents kept searching for stuff based on details that they could recall from the episode (for example: they remembered a specific moment where Reagan jumped off a cliff and discovered that the ground was bouncy), but they couldn’t find anything on their end. I asked them if they were absolutely sure that this was part of Inside Job, and they weren’t just mixing it up with another show. They were both completely certain that it had been Inside Job, and my parents don’t watch that much animation, so it would have been pretty hard for them to draw on anything else. I went through the Tumblr tag for Orrin Carthwait again, and it was all speculation about what COULD have happened to him, which meant that nobody else had seen this mystery episode, either. Besides, I love this show, and I practically live on Inside Job Tumblr, so if a lost episode existed somewhere, I have a really hard time believing that I wouldn’t have come across it. We’ve been on the phone for an hour at this point. My parents are going through their Netflix history trying to figure out what the fuck they watched. Meanwhile, I’m just lying face-down on the floor having a meltdown because I’m convinced that my parents and I live in different realities. The thing was, it wasn’t a totally impossible scenario? The story did seem to fit together fairly well with the parts of the show that I knew. Also, there’s an episode of Gravity Falls (which was made by a lot of the same people who made Inside Job, and contains a lot of similar themes) where Mabel gets trapped in a cartoonish fantasy land that sounds fairly similar:

So, maybe it was possible that Inside Job contained the more adult version? There’s also the fact that Alex Hirsch did that thing where he basically long-form gaslit the GF fandom back in the day by releasing fake footage of a nonexistent spoiler to throw people off the trail when theories started getting too accurate (I’m too lazy to find a post to link; just look it up if you don’t know about this). Maybe the creators were trying to mess with people by releasing an episode to only a handful of viewers and then yanking it, thus creating a conspiracy about the show in itself? Still, it wouldn’t make sense that EVERY trace of the episode would be wiped from existence. You’d think somebody would be talking about it somewhere. I started wondering if maybe it was possible that I HAD actually seen it, and just didn’t remember it. The thing was, it did actually sound really familiar, and some of the details my parents were describing felt way too clear in my mind. Did I just block it out? Where was it, then? I was absolutely losing my fucking mind at this point, so I started a last-ditch effort to just go through any adult animation shows I could think of and read the synopses of every single episode to see if one matched the description. And finally, FINALLY,

I found the bitch.

It’s Rick and Morty, Season 3, Episode 9: “The ABCs of Beth.”

It’s been a long time since I’ve seen it, so I guess I forgot most of the details. Rewatching it back, though, it’s undoubtedly the same story that my parents were describing. The episode is about Beth discovering that Rick trapped her childhood friend, Tommy, in a fantasy play land of his own design called “Froopyland”. She goes back to try to save him, and discovers that he’s been surviving there the whole time by mating with the Froopyland creatures and then eating their kids. The story is basically about Beth coming to terms with the fact that, while her dad is a really fucked-up person, she isn’t entirely unlike him (for better or worse). Honestly, I can understand why my parents’ minds conflated this episode with the ending of Inside Job. The design of Tommy:

Could conceivably be an adult Orrin:

And a lot of the themes about dysfunctional family and fucked-up childhoods (including missing childhood friends) are actually incredibly similar.

Still, I can’t believe that I was actually briefly led to think that there was a lost episode of my favorite show that I had never seen, which was either purged from the collective consciousness or deleted from my own personal memory. This is the worst thing that my parents have ever done. If I ever go to a therapist, they’ll be hearing about this first.

[tmnt-fun]

Blossoms of Betrayal: A Tale of Love and Hanahaki

When Donatello learned that he was coughing up petals, he decided to keep them to himself.

There is no reason to tell his siblings when he has everything under control! The petals hurt a little, but slowly things started to go wrong. It started to get worse, and he learned that he has a sickness that will kill him sooner than later.

The fear gets worse when he learns what caused the sickness and how to fix it.

Word count- 11,972

Day Eleven

The petals have been appearing more frequently since the first time I saw them.

After looking through a few, I discovered that they appear to be perfectly normal. If I did not already know that they originated from within me, it would be as though I had plucked them right off the plant. It appears that they are from the Lamprocapnos spectabilis, also referred to as the bleeding-heart flower. They belong to the fumitory subfamily of the poppy family and are a particular kind of flowering plant.

They are stunningly beautiful; be that as it may, their slight toxicity means that they are only beautiful to the eye, not to the touch. They cause a rash and itchiness, which I have been trying to ignore each and every time that I even breathe. That is obviously a difficult task. Water appears to soothe it, albeit temporarily.

It makes me shiver and causes a very annoying restlessness, making it difficult for me to even type this. I believe I have yet to face the most serious problems because I have not consumed them. 

The isoquinoline alkaloids found in this type of flower can poison both animals and humans. When taken in large quantities, it can harm the liver and cause seizures in humans. Contact may cause a rash and mild skin irritation in the vast majority of people.

Because they are inside of me, I believe my esophagus and other throat tissues are suffering as a result.

It is extremely painful and inflamed. Unfortunately, the petals are causing me to have to cough quite a bit to get them out, and the rash and soreness in my throat are making it worse than it should be.

The reason these plants are growing inside of me is a mystery to me.

I have thoroughly tested my body, including my blood, and, frustratingly, everything appears to be in order. I am not sure how much longer I can keep it hidden from my siblings and our father.  Last night, I had to excuse myself from the dinner table to refill S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N.'s coolant. Despite what I said earlier! Nobody pays attention to what I say. It only requires changing three times per day. Scoff!

That being said, enough of that.

Before I discuss it with my siblings or attempt to remove them myself, I would like to run a few more tests to see if there is anything else going on. I might try searching online for a few things to see if anything like this has ever been documented before. If that were the case, it would be extremely beneficial.

End of note. I will update if I find anything else out.

When Donatello finished writing, he nodded at the screen, saved it, closed the program, leaned back in his chair, and stared at the glowing screen in his darkened room.

Yes, for the last few days, he has had flowers growing inside his lungs, and he isn’t quite sure what was exactly causing that? This was very strange for him, since he knew that that plant grew in late fall or very early spring. The seeds germinate slowly, and they do require moist stratification, but... still. It seems to be something that someone would come up with rather than something that is truly possible! I mean… flowers growing inside of someone? How could that even happen? 

He sighed slowly as he closed his eyes and leaned back in his chair. As a result of the movement, the chair creaked slightly. This was ridiculous; having flowers growing like this made no sense! He was completely perplexed and hated it so much, especially since petals kept appearing and it appeared as though they were only getting worse rather than better.

Being the brightest and most brilliant of his brothers, he disliked it greatly when he was unsure about something. He felt stupid! Despite the fact that he was well aware that he wasn't.

Donatello perked up when he heard a ringing sound, so he opened his website and smiled when he realized who was calling him at this hour—it was 2:56 AM. He would have hated it if someone had messaged him at random (and even more so if they had called him), but with this particular person, he would make an exception. An extremely rare exception.

After reaching over and hitting the answer button, he puts his hands together and places his chin on top of them. “Hello, my dearest friend other than April, Y/n, what are you calling me at this hour for?” Speaking to them, he was hoping they would not notice that his voice was a little raspy from coughing so much earlier.

Thank goodness they didn't! Or, after noticing, they chose to remain silent. They laugh at the other than April part and start to talk themselves: “Hey Donnie, hope you weren’t asleep… I called you since I couldn’t sleep myself, and I really didn’t think you would be. Was I right?” 

“Mayhaps. Would you take any action to compensate me if I were? Say, could you please bring me the cookies you made a few weeks ago? And by that, I mean, please remake the cookies and bring some to me because I really liked them the last time you brought them over."

He felt his own lips curl into a tiny smile as he heard them giggling. For whatever reason, he enjoyed hearing them laugh. It had such a lovely sound. He felt that tingling sensation in his chest once more. It was annoying that it would happen now while he was talking to his friend. He reaches for his water bottle, takes a sip, and clears his throat as he listens to Y/n speak. “Yeah, I’ll bring them next time that I come over. You’re a goof, you know that?”

A goof, huh? Normally, you would call someone that to dismiss their intelligence; despite this, he was well aware that Y/n was not really saying it that way. It is more of a cutesy nickname. They seemed to give him many of those, didn’t they? Instead of calling him Donnie, they called him Don, DD, D-Tel, Nato, or even Deenie at times. Which, to be honest, he did not get. Why were they so opposed to using his name? Making nicknames based on a nickname? Funny.

"Yes, you have told me before," he says, clearing his throat into his fist to try to stop that irksome tickle. “Don’t you have school tomorrow?” he decided to question, curious.

“Ughhh! Don’t remind me! I don’t wanna go back to school.” They whined, and their voice got muffled, so they were probably covering their face. The four turtles had met Y/n—a human—a long time ago, though obviously not as long as April. Although a lot of time had passed since then, Donatello remembered that day as if it had happened yesterday.

Leonardo was thrown by the person they were fighting with, and instead of hitting a nearby wall or water, he was thrown through a window and didn’t come back out until they were done fighting. It turned out that Y/n, upon hearing their window get smashed, hit him over the head with a bat. They broke the bat, leaving Leonardo with a severe headache and Donatello with the task of repairing the window.

And all the while, Y/n was apologizing!

They had thought that Leonardo was trying to rob them, and Raphael was also saying he was sorry for them breaking the window. Y/n made it up to Leonardo by giving him the cookies that they were making when he ‘broke in’ and Donatello swiped one or two, and they were pretty good. Nothing to write home about, only good.

Not only did Y/n give gifts to the four boys, but they also often brought the cookies to Leonardo as a reminder of what had happened.

Donatello thought it was sweet—and very amusing. Leonardo liked to call them a headache as a nickname and joke as well.

“Don? D? Deeeeee ?” He blinks a few times upon hearing the voice and shakes his head before responding. “Right, yes, sorry, I was… distracted. Did you say anything?" Apart from the nicknames, of course.

“Eh, nothing really, just saying that I don’t want to go to school because I have some tests and I haven’t studied ... dooooo you think, maaaayybeeee, you could come and help me out a little? Eh? Eh?” Even though he could not see them, he could tell they were wiggling their eyebrows.

Weirdo.

Help them out? With a slight grin, he looks at their profile picture while leaning his head against his fist. He could feel his tail swaying back and forth behind him. “Oh? You want Donatello, the genius, to come and help you study for the tests that you decided to leave for the last minute?”

Their laughter filled his ears, which he would not mind if it was the last sound he ever heard before they told him, amusement lacing their voice. "Yes, please, Mr. Genius Donatello. I would love the help of studying for my tests. There is no one better for me to ask than you."

Oh, yeah, that rubbed his ego just right.

He starts to let out soft churring sounds before he perks up, his eyes widening. Ah, there was a strange, tingling, and painful sensation that suddenly appeared in his chest and throat. He quickly mutes himself on the call and reaches for his trash can, where he starts to hack and cough. Petal after petal fell out like a waterfall, some catching in his throat or dripping with the spit past his sharpened teeth. Most of them, fortunately, fall out from the force of his coughs. He had to hack a few more times before clenching his eyes shut. Ew, ew, ew! That bothered him. He hated this so much.

Reaching up, he pulls out the petals that were lodged in his throat, discarding them along with the others. He then swishes his water from his bottle back and forth in his cheeks before spitting that out as well.

The tingly sharp feeling was already forming in the back of his throat, and he knew that he would be spending the next hour or so coughing and clearing his throat to try to get that out.

Something he knew he wouldn't be able to do.

He sniffles and wipes his snout before leaning back in his chair and re-grabbing his headphones to put them back on. "Donnie? Are you all right? What happened?" The sound of Y/n's voice filled his ears once more; their voice sounded worried.

He hated making them worry. Even more so because they were worried about him .

With a shake of his head, he unmutes himself and replies, "I'm alright. I wanted to spare you the unpleasantness of hearing that something got knocked over. It was… very loud." He really hoped that that sounded like a good lie... even though he hated lying because he sucked at it.

Y/n didn't respond for a few moments before they hummed. "Alright, whatever you say... when would you like to come over? I'll make you those special cookies—a whole batch all for yourself." And even though his throat was burning, his chest hurt, and everything ached... his tail started to wag again, knowing that they would do that for him.

They made plans that he would come by the next day.

With that, he removed his headphones, grabbed his bottle, tossed it into the trash with the rest of the petals, and stood up from his chair to go get himself another bottle of water. He's been drinking a lot more water, which both Michelangelo and Raphael told him that they were proud of since, you know, water was very important.

And just because he doesn't like eating much doesn't mean that he doesn't drink enough water... I mean, he doesn't, except that that's not his fault.

Don't ask whose fault it was.

He didn't have an answer.

Donatello yawns and stretches his arms above his head as he leaves his lab to head to the kitchen. It was exhausting for him to cough so much! And painful.

Normally, he could go a few days without feeling the effect of staying awake for so long.

So the fact that he did feel it already, well, that was pretty disagreeable.

He made his way into the kitchen and opened the fridge door, his eyes scanning to look at all of the things that they had. A bowl was covered in a silver sheet, and when he moved it slightly, he saw that it was the pudding. Michelangelo made it for the banana pudding that he was going to make special.

Shockingly, Leonardo hasn't messed with it yet.

After looking for a few moments, he grabbed a bottle of water and opened it, starting to sip from the bottle. The feeling of itchiness deep in his throat was making it hard to drink or eat anything . Water was easy, at least, although anything else was painful, and he already had a hard time eating, so this was very discouraging.

Michelangelo seemed worried that he's been avoiding eating all over again, though he has done that for such a long time now that it shouldn't be that shocking. Sure, now it was for a different reason than him just not wanting to eat… not that his brother would know that.

Admittedly, Donatello would much rather them not finding out about it. Explaining that he didn't want to eat or wasn't hungry was easier than trying to explain that he was in a lot of pain.

It's only been getting worse.

"Dontron!" He heard, causing him to pause, he then sighs after swallowing his water. He looks over his shoulder to see that it was Leonardo!

Of course it was Leonardo, as they were both the ones who had a hard time sleeping in their household. Raphael also did at times, but that was because his kind of turtle normally stayed awake during the night to hunt and slept during the day.

The word for that is nocturnal.

They often went out during the night as well, today they decided to stay in. Donatello would check the cameras later to make sure nothing was going on.

Bad, he meant.

Sometimes he liked to watch the cameras to see stupid people do stupid things. It made him laugh. When people thought that they were alone, they would often do things that they wouldn't normally do. Or, you know, most of the time, they slip on ice. He has seen some drug deals and then police cars driving fast. Other times, he saw people spray painting, sneaking around, or even things worse than that.

He liked it when people slipped.

Leonardo was more than just his brother; he was also his twin. It was something that they decided on when they were much much younger. Did he regret it? No, no, he didn't. Leonardo was his twin, and he loved him... Even if he could be annoying at times. Always times, pretty much.

"What do you want, Nardo? It's late—have you not slept again?" Ugh! His voice was all raspy. He takes a sip from his bottle while looking at Leonardo. You know, it might be making him need to drink more water so the plants would have enough water to grow. Would it be better for him to not water it so it wouldn't be able to grow as well? Would that help at all? That could be a good test for him to run later.

His dearest twin smiles and laughs, putting his hands on his hips as he answers, "Nope! And I know you didn't either. What are you up to?" He turns his head to the side, seeming interested. Leonardo was a red-eared slider, as most people already knew, and he was the younger of the twins.

When they were younger, Donatello won the game.

They played rock, paper, scissors, and Donatello won, so he was given the honor of being the oldest twin of the two.

Because he didn’t think it was fair, Leonardo always complains about it. Donatello thought it was completely fair. Donatello just happened to win the game based on the rules they agreed upon when they were younger. If he had to be completely honest, he didn’t see how that would be unfair.

Anyhow.

His eyes were a brilliant yellow and green, piercingly bright. They had both colors, but yellow on top and green on the bottom, while Donatello’s eyes were one red and one blue. Michelangelo liked to say that they were color palettes! Because the primary colors are blue, yellow, and red. Red, green, and blue are additive color models. Typical RGB input devices are color TVs and video cameras, image scanners, and digital cameras. Raphael laughed when Michelangelo said that, as he thought it was a bit silly.

“I’m not really doing anything; I was planning on heading to bed soon. I’m pretty tired.” The flowers were taking up a lot of his energy, and he wanted to wake up early enough to do some tests on them. Mostly, he wanted to get some of the petals and figure out if they had anything different about them. The last ones didn’t, but these might? Maybe…

Almost certainly not. Sigh .

Leonardo turns his head to the side. “Huh? You’re gonna go to bed earlier? That’s a first.” He laughs and walks over, swinging his arm around Donatello’s shoulders, tugging him closer, and continuing, “Aw, come on, we should hang out! We never hang out one on one anymore.”

Never hang out one-on-one anymore? Well… he guessed that Leonardo was right about that; they hadn’t really had the chance to hang out with just the two of them for a while. He lets out a hum, then nods and mumbles. “We can hang out; what do you want to do?” Leonardo gets a big grin on his face and starts to drag Donatello to his bedroom so they can sit together and do whatever he wants to do.

Maybe paint nails. That is something that they used to do together pretty often.

Oh man…

This was something he was going to have to deal with now, huh? Oh well, this might be interesting and just what he needs to get his mind off the fact that he has flowers growing in his lungs.

Hm…

That sounded really bad.

The twin turtles headed to Leonardo’s room, and he fell back onto the bed, bouncing on it before putting his arms behind his head and shutting his eyes. They both had some bad insomnia, for two different reasons. Donatello sits on the edge and leans back on his hands. 

“So, Don, you said that you weren’t doing anything, right?” When he nodded to show that yes, that’s what he said, Leonardo continued. His eyes were shut. “I don’t remember the last time that you weren’t doing anything… so, tell me the truth: were you really not doing anything or were you doing stuff that you didn’t wanna say?”

Donatello paused at that, his eyes widening slightly, then squinted and reached over to grab one of Leonardo’s, way too many pillows, and smacked him with it. “Shut up! You’re starting to sound like Angelo.” Leonardo yelps, then starts to laugh and covers his face with his arms. “Nooo! Don’t attack me!” Donatello, not listening to his brother's pleas, continued to hit him with the feather-filled pillow.

He hated it whenever people poked holes through whatever he said. He said it, so they should accept what he said! He didn’t want to talk about the other thing right now. It wasn’t bad enough to worry him yet. Sure, it was hard to breathe at times, and he had been coughing more, but he had a feeling he knew how to stop it!

If not, then… he would try other things. He didn’t want to worry his brothers, as he knew that they would worry too much. They would probably panic, and then that would cause more issues than they could ever hope to solve. Plus, you know, the humans would figure it out, and he didn’t want to worry April or Y/n.

April would get mad at him for not telling them earlier, and Y/n… oh Y/n… they would be so worried about him. He could already see the worry in their eyes and the fear in their voice as they asked him why he didn’t tell them.

Luckily, he was knocked out of his thoughts before they got too dark when he felt something soft hit the side of his head. He blinks a few times to see Leonardo sticking his tongue out at him and laughing. “Ha! Sneak attack.” It's not really a sneak attack if you shout sneak attack after it, but he narrows his eyes and leans over, starting to hit him again.

“You are such a brat!” Donatello says this while Leonardo rolls out of the way to not get hit too many times and grabs his own pillow to hit him back.

Thinking of Y/n and April before, it started to cause that tingle in the back of his throat and the tightness in his chest. His throat burned as though he had swallowed burning coal, and he could tell that it was swollen. Maybe that’s why he couldn’t breathe as easily as he used to?

It would explain a lot.

They played like that for a bit until Donatello couldn't anymore. He sets the pillow down, breathing a bit harder than normal, and coughs. "G...Give me a moment." He covers his mouth with his fist, holding up a finger to silently add that. The coughs didn't stop, and luckily no flower petals came up this time.

Leonardo looks at him and frowns. "Huh?" He sets the pillow down and scoots closer, asking, "Dude, are you okay? You sound like you're hacking up a lung." He reaches out and rubs him on the back.

That's what it felt like.

A soreness that shot through his arms, and even his shell felt the ache. It's crazy that a few little flowers could have this bad of an effect on him.

What should he say?

Should he tell the truth?

Should he lie?

Donatello was never the best at lying; that was something everyone knew about him. Donatello was a genius, but Donatello wasn't a very good liar! Pretty much everyone could tell if he was telling the truth or not.

It is such a big part of his character that it has been brought up a few times already.

He darted his tongue out to wet his lips and was about to respond when Leonardo reached out to grab his cheeks and studied him closer, causing his eyes to widen. Panic shot through him for just a moment, then he pulled back harshly, shaking his head fast. "What are you doing?!" He didn't mean to snap!

He really didn't.

Somebody grabbing his face like that? What the hell!? Who wouldn't panic, at least a little?

"You're bleeding..." Leonardo's voice cut through the air faster than any blade could, and it made Donatello's skin chill like he had stepped out into a blizzard.

He was bleeding?

He reaches up and touches his lip, then pulls his hand back to see the redness that was coating his fingers. It was only a little, and that explained the foul taste of iron that tainted his tongue.

His eyes shoot up to see Leonardo looking at him with a frown on his face. He rests his hands down on the bed and asks, unease lacing his words. "Donnie, why are you bleeding? Have you been coughing that bad for a bit? For how long?"

Damn his twin for being the medic. He could probably tell that something was wrong—having said that, probably anyone would be able to tell that something was wrong if the person was coughing so badly as to cause blood, but I digress. 

"Long enough that I have been able to find the issue, and I'm working on fixing it. Don't worry." He told his twin, cursing the way his voice broke on a few words. Damn his raspy, rough voice! It felt so strained and uncomfortable.

Leonardo's eyes would close slightly each time his voice broke. He was flinching without showing it, wasn't he? Man... this was why he didn't want his siblings to figure it out. "Promise?" Leonardo asks, and he simply nods, his eyes darting away. 

Unfortunately, he knew he could not make any such promises.

After that, their joyful mirth had, accidentally, been ruined by him and not too long later, Donatello left to go to his room to get some rest. In the morning, he was planning on running a few tests as well as maybe going to the Hidden City Library, where, on the off chance, he could find something about this sickness.

Learning about it meant he could fix it.

He made Leonardo swear not to tell Raphael or Michelangelo. He knew that telling them would not help them and would actually hurt him and his ability to figure it out on his own.

They would say that they had to come with him to make sure he was safe, and then they would get themselves locked in the kid room.

Again .

When he enters his room, he places his hand on his chest and takes a deep breath, or as deep as he can, before lying back in his bed and closing his eyes to try to relax. He would try to sleep and, in the morning, go before having to go and see Y/n.

Hopefully, he will find something when he goes.

He wanted to find something? Oh, yes, he did find something!

An annoyance !

Michelangelo had already been awake when he got up to go to the Hidden City Library, and he looked over at him before smiling. "Dee! Hey, I was just about to get started on breakfast. Do you want any? I'm making pancakes—your favorite." He sounded excited and hopeful.

It had been a bit since they had pancakes, and yes, they were a good comfort food for the soft-shelled turtle. They almost always turned out the same, and he never had syrup with them.

Honestly, if he got sticky, he would die. "Ah... I'm not hungry. I’m planning on going out for a little while anyway."

"Aww, what? Come on, pretty please Donnie? I'm worried about you. You’ve been avoiding eating again ." Michelangelo told him, a whine in his voice.

Gosh, he had whiny brothers, didn’t he? 

"The physical appearance of the please makes no difference to me." He replies, seeing Michelangelo giving him a look, so he sighs and continues. "I'm fine. When I get home, I will join you for lunch AND dinner." He holds up his hand, resting the other on his chest. "I promise."

Never did he like to promise things like that—he just knew that it would help Michelangelo feel better. 

Once again, the youngest gives him a look before he sighs and shakes his head. "Alright, but I'm holding you to that, even if I have to get rope." That was, hopefully, a joke. Donatello always had a hard time telling! Even more so with Michelangelo, because, well, he was strange.

And now he was in the library.

He wanted to do the tests today, as he has stated numerous times already, and he did! He put the petals into the machine to scan them and look for anything strange about them, and then he decided to go and try to find a book about it.

When he walked in, the bat lady squinted and placed her finger to her lips. He looks at her and smiles, raising his hand in a wave and whispering shouts. "Good morning, Ivah. You look amazing as usual." To not get scolded for that slight raise of voice, he hurries off.

It was not even that loud.

He walked through the pathways, having to use his staff as a cane. Walking was becoming unusually difficult, and he was having a hard time breathing without coughing or gagging because of the tingle in his throat.

This was strange and upsetting, so he was really hoping to find out what was causing this before he had to leave to go and spend time with Y/n. They were supposed to be meeting up today at five, and it was already two.

Dufus woke up late.

It was now four, and he has yet to find anything that spoke about his illness. He sighs, sitting at one of the tables and flipping through the pages of the book, his head resting on his fist. This was so annoying.

This book spoke about many different illnesses and the treatments for those illnesses. The title was ‘Whispers of affliction: a chronicle of ailments and cures’

Okay, this one was called 'Harmonic Resonance Disorder,' and it causes people to have an increased sensitivity to certain frequencies of sound. It’s caused by a rare combination of genetic predispositions and prolonged exposure to specific ambient noises. It disrupts the normal auditory processing in the affected individuals, and it causes dizziness, headaches, and difficulty focusing in noisy environments. That didn't help him at all, so he flipped to the next page.

The following page was titled 'Chrono-Phase Misalignment,' and it refers to the disruption of an individual's internal biological clock's synchronization with the natural day-night cycle. The causes are a genetic predisposition as well as irregular sleep patterns, which result in symptoms such as insomnia, fatigue, dizziness, heart palpitations, and cognitive difficulties. The cure is a special liquid made in the light of a full moon. Once again, it was ineffective.

Next page!

‘Quantum Flux Disorientation,’ that is an intriguing term... exposure to an anomalous quantum field causes this strange illness. It causes temporary disorientation in affected individuals, leading to spatial perception shifts, nausea or vomiting, mild hallucinations, and the sensation of existing in multiple places at once. The cause of this is still a mystery, and the cure is time.

Heh, yeah, he's glad that he doesn't have that one.

"Where is the one I am looking for?" he murmurs under his breath as he begins to flip through the pages quickly, squinting at the words he could see. This is so inconvenient! He wanted to find out what was going on with the flowers.

He perks up when he gets to a few certain pages. Oh, huh, one with just flowers and plants... good. He stops at one of the pages and looks at the writing. 'Petalosis Syndrome' this one results from an unusual interaction between a specific set of airborne flower particles and an individual's immune system. Some people develop colorful petal-like patterns on their skin as a result of it. It is a harmless illness that is frequently accompanied by a floral fragrance emanating from the person suffering from it.

Startlingly, there didn’t seem to be a cure for that one.

Then the next page.

This page describes a condition known as "Luminafication," which is caused by a specific flower whose petals release blue pollen. When inhaled, this pollen disrupts the body's energy flow, resulting in the formation of vivid, luminescent patterns on the skin. As the affliction progresses, these patterns spread, causing fatigue and eventually weakening the affected person's life force. The only known treatment is nectar from a different flower that grows only in Japan. He squints at the page and mumbles to himself. "That is not going to help me." That sickness doesn't make sense to Donatello, and he was very happy that he didn't have that one.

It would be problematic to have to go to Japan.

Next page... once more. 

The following one on the page was titled 'Aurora Veil Syndrome.' This illness is caused by the pollen of the rare Aurora Veil flower. Individuals who become infected begin to have vivid dreams in which their emotions manifest as colorful auroras. If these emotional auroras become too intense, they manifest as physical luminescence around the infected. It causes a range of symptoms, from temporary paralysis to uncomfortable bursts of emotion. Ignoring it will cause it to spread and consume so much energy from the infected that they will be unable to get out of bed.

Of course that would then lead to death.

And then the one on the next page caught his eye.

The pulmonary disorder 'Hanahaki Disease' is characterized by abnormal floral growth within the respiratory tract. The condition is usually caused by unrequited romantic affection, which causes an abnormal physiological response. As the emotional distress intensifies, the affected individual experiences coughing episodes expelling botanical matter, such as petals or flowers. 

The longer the feelings go unspoken, the more the flowers grow until they fill the affected person's lungs and cannot be removed due to the roots.

The only known treatment for this disease is 'Floral Extraction Surgery,' in which skilled surgeons use advanced technology to carefully extract the floral growth from the affected person's respiratory system. The surgery aims to restore normal pulmonary function while addressing the emotional roots of the condition. Alternatively, successful reciprocation of romantic feelings acts as a non-invasive remedy, causing the flowers to naturally recede. It's important to note that the surgery will remove the romantic feelings as well as the memories of the affected individual's crush.

Hanahaki Disease? That doesn't make sense to Donatello. He has no way of having a crush on anyone! Even if everything else on the page made sense and was exactly what was going on.

He knew that he didn't have a crush.

He purses his lips and looks at the page, then shakes his head and resumes flipping through the pages. No way, no how! He was going to find something else that made more sense than this! He would have to find something.

Who could he possibly have feelings for? He could not imagine himself dating anyone in his life.

Most of the people that they knew were much older than them, or evil, or both. Maybe one of the Purple Dragon people, but no, he didn't want that.

No matter how exciting it would be... It would be like one of the bad fanfics that his brother always read that he thought nobody knew about. Of course Donatello knew about it! He was the only reason that they had internet access and the ability to see stuff like that in the first place.

Over the next two hours, he continued looking through books to try to find something, anything, but once more, he couldn’t find anything that helped him.

Donatello lets out a groan and drops his head down onto the table. How stupid! It's absurd for a book to try to convince him that he had a crush on someone when, in reality, he knew that he didn't. What sort of person could he possibly be crushing on, anyway? 

A loud ringing echoed throughout the library, making him jump. He quickly picks up his phone, hits the answer button, and gives the bat woman a silent "I'm sorry" gesture before placing the phone to his head and responding. "Hello?" Who could be calling him now? He’s busy!

"Um..." He heard a voice start to speak—a familiar voice. "Hey, Donnie, it's Y/n, hi. I was wondering if you were still planning on coming over? I didn't message you or anything for a while in case you were busy doing something, but I know it would have bugged you if you forgot to tell me you weren't coming by.”

Y/n was calling him? He blinks a few times, confused. What were they talking about? It was still too early, right? He pulls his phone back to look at the time, and his eyes widen. What the hell happened? Where did the time go? He hops up and hurries to replace the book where it was supposed to be. "I lost track of time; I will be coming over right now to help you with your studying. You should get everything set up and ready for me when I get there."

He heard them laugh, and they told him that they would be right on that before they hung up. He looks down at the phone and mumbles, "How did it get so late so fast?" He shakes his head at himself and looks forward. In any case, that book was stupid—a sickness caused by love gone wrong?

Hilarious.

There is no way; if it were, people would talk about it more, wouldn't they?

Unless it was some kind of mutant/yokai thing?

That would account for a few things...

He bites the inside of his cheek at the thought and shakes his head to try to get his mind off that. Yeah, no, he didn't want to even think about that, as he still had no idea who the person was that he had a crush on! He considered April to be a sister, and Y/n...

No.

It could not possibly be them. They were a friend, and only a friend. He knew that they were just friends, and it would be stupid to think otherwise.

With that thought in mind, he started to head to their building so he could help them out. It felt kind of nice to know that they would ask him to help them with something as important as a test! And it's been a bit since they were able to spend time together. The thought of being alone with them caused his heart to flutter, followed by a shooting pain through his chest as if caused by a bullet ripping through him.

He stumbles and falls down onto his knees on top of one of the buildings, starting to cough hard. Petals poured out of his mouth, and he had to continue hacking to try to get them all out.

No matter how many times he coughed, more and more just kept coming. It made him want to vomit, even though he knew he had nothing left in his stomach to spare for it. The only thing that would come up would be bile.

The pain in his throat, which had already been excruciating, worsened, and he gasped for air between each furious expulsion of his lungs. Each convulsion wrenched his chest, making it impossible for him to catch the air that he needed.

Donatello wondered, as the corners of his eyes started to fade to black, what he had done to deserve this? Why was he hurting so badly? To him, it made no sense! Why would he be in such pain because he loves someone? 

The surroundings around him became hazy, with colors shifting into a muted palette and lights that appeared to be swirling. All he had to support himself were his limbs, which felt heavy. The loud noises of sirens and beeping horns grew muted and far away, as though a fog was enveloping him.

Despite the pain he was experiencing, he managed to draw in a breath before slipping into the darkness and using his arm to wipe his mouth in an effort to catch his breath. His muscles screamed at him, his head was hurting, and he had a crazy sensation of tingling going through him.

Sharp shutters were dancing along his spine.

Donatello stared down at the petals on the roof in front of him, noticing the bright red speckles covering them. The same crimson liquid was all over his arm; he was bleeding, and it hurt considerably more this time. He wondered exactly how long this would go before it turned into too much for him, considering that there were also a lot more petals than before.

Even now, he feels so weak.

His eyes burned from the tears that forced their way out while he was coughing, and his hands trembled. This... he had that stupid flower sickness, and if he was right, then he knew the cause of it.

He was in love with Y/n.

He should have realized it by now! How much of an idiot is he, actually? It is, of course, on Y/n! Who else could it possibly be? On top of that, he would be thinking about them each time he coughed. Or, at the very least, the coughing got worse in response to the thoughts of them.

Sitting on his knees, staring down at the bloodied petals, Donatello thought. He liked to think he was the smartest person in his family, and he was, but not when it came to emotions. What was he supposed to do in this situation? Is he supposed to tell them? What would he tell them?

Oh, yes, hello, Y/n, I came to help you with your studies, but I have a crush on you, and if you don't return my feelings, I may die because I am coughing up petals that are blocking my airways. I almost passed out on the way here! Yeah, I’m bleeding a lot.

Yeah, that would be the best idea!

Donatello sniffles and wipes his eyes before taking out his phone and typing a message to Y/n. 'Something came up. I can't come over. If you send me the problems, I will give you the answers amd help you study later' and with that, he slowly got to his feet, stumbled, and started to head home. He needed to figure this out before it got worse.

He's sure that he could figure out a way to stop himself from dying, and nobody has to know what he went through.

At least... that's what he wanted to have happen, but as he made his way back into the area that they knew as their home, his vision, which had been fading in and out, finally went black, and he felt himself fall forward before hitting the ground.

Then he was out.

When Donatello started to come through, everything felt numb. He didn't feel pain anymore, and he had to wonder if maybe he died right there.

Of course not.

It wouldn't be that easy.

Luckily 

His eyes scanned around lazily to see that he was lying in the medical station; a tube was connected to his arm, and he knew that that was probably the strongest thing that they could give him. They were immune to most medicine, so Donatello had to get very good stuff.

Very expensive stuff.

Raphael often asked him how he got it, but he always told the oldest not to worry about that. There was no reason for him to do it. Question it, he meant.

Raphael muttered that that didn't make him feel any better. Yeah, well, sometimes they had to steal some stuff. Not everyone has such an amazing moral compass, dear brother. They would be—pardon his language—fucked if Donatello had one.

Anyway, that makes sense. He probably passed out when he came in, and the others found him and took him in here. They then saw that he was in pain, so they gave him medicine. Troublesome, as he really didn’t want them to know about it.

Once he figured that out, he opened his mouth to try to say something to tell them that hey, he was awake, except that no noise came out.

Well…

Nothing other than a soft croak.

Wrong! He was a turtle, not a frog.

That’s… not what he wanted to have happen. He gulps, feeling a strange sensation in his throat, and he drags his tongue across his lips to wet them before trying again. “G-Guys?” Still not very good, albeit better than before, at least. Now he could talk. 

Geez, his mouth felt so dry.

Leonardo pokes his head in, then looks over his shoulder, shouting, "Guys! He's awake." He rushes into the room and looks at him with a deep frown on his face. "You always gotta be dramatic, huh? You should leave that to me; you're the dancy dancy guy… what happened?" When Donatello only gave him a stare, he sighed, putting his hand on the side of his head with his eyes shut. "Geez..." he mumbles under his breath.

Donatello knew that he could answer that, but also, you know, he was kind of offended? He's known more than just as the dancy dancy guy! He's the plant, smart, dancy guy! Scoff? Just the dancy dancy guy… what the hell, Leonardo?

That's like saying you're just a medic!

Raphael and Michelangelo came into the room, and Raphael looked at him, frowned, then asked, "Donnie, what happened?" his voice held worry and confusion. He was probably the one who had to carry Donatello in here.

Aw… that makes him feel bad.

At the moment, he didn’t feel the weight of his battleshell on his back, so that was probably taken off of him before they laid him down. Man, he hated it whenever he didn’t have that on; it made him feel kind of strange.

Unprotected.

Unsafe.

He breathes out a breath that he didn't realize he was holding and leans back. The bed in here was never that comfortable; it always made him want to move the pillow.

The feathers in it would often poke out through the fabric and poke him. Only enough to annoy him, not enough to cause any real pain. "I... have a type of sickness, a-and it's not the easiest to deal with." As he spoke, his voice was hoarse, and it was hard to get the words out.

Slight spikes of pain appeared too, only to disappear before he could really focus on them. Was it good? He wasn't 100% sure.

"What do you mean by sickness?" Michelangelo questions while Leonardo jumps in by adding, "Is it connected to when you coughed earlier?" Donatello only nods to show that yes, it was connected. At least Leonardo could explain it a little.

His dear twin, in all probability, had no idea what the sickness was, and he didn’t want to tell them that yet. He didn’t want them to know that he was probably dying because of Y/n—not that he would blame them for it.

It would be his own fault if he died from this.

And the idea of that… the idea of that scared him.

Being only 14, Donatello wasn’t ready to die. He wasn’t ready to feel all of the pain these flowers were causing him, and he wasn’t ready to say goodbye or tell Y/n that he liked them! He only found out himself earlier, and now if he didn’t, it might be too late. How is this fair? How is any of this fair ?

Raphael asked what exactly Leonardo was talking about, and he started to explain all of what he knew, which sadly wasn't a lot. Since that was being handled, Donatello shut his eyes, thinking about this. Would it be a good idea for him to tell Y/n? Also, how long has it been since he passed out? Probably an hour, maybe a tiny bit less? He could feel sick from it already—a gross nausea that made him unable to turn his head around too fast.

Telling them would help him feel better, maybe, and hey, maybe he would get a partner? Gosh, the idea of dating them made him feel... good.

Ah, what to do, what to do—the hardest question to answer.

It had to do with 100% emotions, and everyone knew that Donatello was never the best at emotions. They were just chemicals! He should be able to figure it out, then he can't, and he hated it.

Over the next few days, Leonardo kept Donatello in the medical room. He said it was so he could keep an eye on him and his healing process.

When he argued, or at least tried to, Leonardo shook his head and told him. "Dude, you're never gonna get better if you don't let me try to help you. You're gonna need water, and Mikey's making you soup broth to help you a little.” he moved to sit beside the bed while he spoke. “And if I let you out of this room, Raph might just kill me. You should have seen how freaked out he got when he saw you!” He laughs.

Even Donatello could tell that he was nervous, even if he was laughing.

So, to not make his twin worry even more, he agreed to lay in bed and accept the liquid pumping into him as well as the broth that the youngest tried to give him. Raphael changed out the pillows, since he knew that Donatello didn’t like the pillows in this place.

He appreciated that.

What he didn't appreciate, on the other hand, was the fact that he knew they wouldn’t be able to help him with this. The only way he could get better from it was to get the surgery, which he knew he wouldn’t be able to do, or to tell Y/n that he liked them.

Fortunately, he hasn’t coughed up the flowers around them. He knew that April and Y/n knew that he was sick; April had come and seen him already, but so far, Y/n hasn’t. They did send him the cookies that they had promised him.

The ones that he couldn't eat.

They said that they got in trouble for failing the quiz— oops .

Leonardo was checking his vitals with a small frown on his face, humming under his breath. Donatello turns his head to look at him and asks. “Are you guys going to let me get up soon? I have stuff that I want to work on.” Ah, his voice still sounds bad, although not as bad as before. Right now, he was just feeling very weak and tired.

It was an annoying feeling.

“The stuff you want to work on can wait. You’re gonna have to stay here until you feel better… you’re still coughing, and you seem to have a shortness of breath. You said you had chest pain, an aching body, you feel tired, I could tell you have a slight fever, and I can't tell if the loss of appetite is from what you're doing or if you're just you." He had to let out a little laugh after saying that, which made Donatello roll his eyes. "The inside of your throat seems red and inflamed, so I'm going to try to find something to help with that. Your dehydration is being fixed because of this." He taps his pen against the bag that was connected to the tube that was leading to his arm. “And you’d tell me if you feel light-headed or dizzy, right?”

Alright, well, this was awesome. He sighs, shuts his eyes, and rests his head down against the pillow again, his mind wandering with many different thoughts.

The meds were helping him not feel pain anymore, and the soup was helping him out too, but... he felt so tired.

He had been sleeping more than usual, which irritated him. Being able to sleep was nice; it really was. In any case, he wanted to do other things! He wanted to go back to work; he wanted to be able to think about Y/n without coughing. He wanted to feel okay, or at least sick because of his own stupid decision, rather than the fact that he was probably dying.

“Oh! By the way, Y/n's coming over to see you. Aren't you special?" His brother teased him, making his eyes widen. Were they on their way over?  His heartbeat, which the machine was monitoring, began to pick up, and he felt that dreadful tingle appearing in his throat all over again.

Crap, crap, crap.

"When?" he asks quickly, trying hard not to cough. His eyes watered, and his throat was feeling sore again, even through the medicine that he was given.

The reply said maybe 20ish minutes? So Donatello asked him to bring him some honey tea since his throat was starting to feel sore again. Leonardo nodded and went off to ask Raphael to make it... he was better at making that fancy tea than Leonardo was. Oh! Maybe he would ask Raphael to make chamomile tea since Leonardo liked that too and he wanted some. Their dad would likely try to get some too.

Once Leonardo left, Donatello leans over and starts to cough into the trash can near him. This time, however, something felt different.

It was worse.

It felt so much worse .

Each cough made him feel as though he was being stabbed, even with the medicine that he had been given. Petals were coming out, luckily, but there was something else stuck in his throat, so he had to reach up to pull the other parts out.

Alright, now it seemed like he pulled it off the plant 100%. It was more than just petals; it was the full flower in his grip.

He rests his head down against his arm, panting hard to try to catch his breath once all of the flowers have been expelled from inside him. He could feel the soreness and tension, and he knew that he was bleeding all over again. That disgusting taste tainted his tongue and made him want water to gargle. Having said that, he knew better than to try to get up.

One because he had a tube in his arm, and two because he knew that they would get upset with him for getting up rather than asking one of them for help.

They were protective, and it was honestly a bit much at times. Mostly Raphael, as most would expect from him being the oldest.

He understood their worry and fear, though. Donatello was a soft-shelled turtle, which meant his shell was, of course, soft and leather-like. That, plus his ability to not exactly take very good care of himself, would all add up at times. This was, sadly, one of those times.

He remembered that he used to get sick fairly often when he was younger as well. Stupid considering the fact that he was a mutant turtle who was supposed to be immune to most sicknesses.

Not this one, he guessed!

Ugh, stupid Draxum... wait...

Donatello's eyes widened as he sat up slightly. He wouldn't have to tell Y/n! He could ask Draxum for help! He's sure that maybe, just maybe, he would know a cure other than surgery or confession.

Frankly, he didn't think that he was ready for it... confessing ones emotions should be done when they want to, not because they have to. Though he figured some people would wait forever and not be able to confess, no matter what.

And with this, you'd, well, you'd doubtlessly die because of it.

The idea of that made his skin crawl. 

"Okay! Raph's making your tea." Leonardo said as he walked in, then paused, looking at him. "Oh, gross, did you puke? I can empty that." he points at the trash can.

"N-No... it's... it's alright." He replied, letting out a small cough while he spoke. Damn his body for betraying him like this! At least no petals came out? He was expecting Leonardo to take longer.

Getting a wave of the hand back as a silent 'don't worry about it', Leonardo walks over to grab the bag from the trash can so he could throw it out, yet pauses once more. "Huh?" he stares at the petals, then looks at him with confusion clear on his face. "D, what are these? Why are they covered in blood?"

Well, that was... the opposite of what he wanted to have happen, so he shut his mouth in a tight line, staring at his brother. Couldn't call him a liar if he didn't say anything!

What the heck was he supposed to say? The truth? Ha! Hysterical! As if.

Man, Michelangelo would be so disappointed in him if he knew. None of them really spoke about their issues, and he didn't want to be the one to start it.

"Donnie, I know you can talk. Tell me what's going on. Why are there flowers in the trash that have blood on them?" Leonardo raised his voice a little as he spoke. Ah, that's not a good sign. He gulps, feeling his head throbbing with pain that was fading in and out.

One that he knew would be worse if it wasn't for the medications he was given.

Should he say something?

What should he say?

He lets out a shaky breath and starts to talk. "Do you remember t...the sickness that I told you about?" When he got a nod, he continued, letting out a soft wheeze. "Well, this is it. I keep... coughing up the petals, and it's getting worse." guess he was telling the truth after all. "I found out the way to fix it, but... I don't... I don't know." Man, normally he liked to talk, and yet just getting those words out made him tired.

"You found out a way to fix it? Then why aren't you doing it?" Leonardo questions again, holding up his hand. "Do you have any idea how worried I am? You look like these flowers are going to be on your grave or something!" It must be bad if even Leonardo was acting like this. Donatello knew he felt bad, still, did he really look that bad?

Before he could respond to try to calm his brother or make a joke about it to get him to try to calm down, they heard the curtain open, and Raphael pokes his head in. "Hey guys, I'm done with the tea that you asked for." He walks over and sets the little plate down with the tea cup on top of it.

The steam was rising off of the hot liquid, looking like tendrils gracefully dancing with the light shining through it. His eyes shoot over to look at Leonardo, who was frowning, then he looks down and picks up the cup, mumbling a thank you. He looks down at the cup and sips from it with his eyes shut.

It was hot.

He slightly burned his tongue, though he would rather that than have to talk about his issues.

"And Y/n's here; should I tell them to come on in?" Raphael continued, turning his head to the side.

The drinking paused as Donatello heard that. Damn it, why did they have to come? There was too much happening at once! First he felt strange because of the soreness in his throat, then Leonardo found out about the sickness, and now Y/n was here!

The cause of all of this, even if they didn't know.

He breathes out slowly through his nose and reaches over to set the cup down. The warmth helped soothe the soreness in his throat, and he nodded. "They can come in... I would like some alone time with them, please." Leonardo opens his mouth, then shuts it, and sighs out slowly. "Alright." He reaches over to take Raphael's hand, leading him out of the room.

Since Leonardo didn’t make a joke, Donatello knew he was upset and he didn’t blame him at all.

This was going against his plan.

Donatello didn't... like that.

He hated it whenever things went against the plans that he had in his head. In the morning, he woke up and made a plan most of the time. He would work on his creations, check on his plants, then deal with whatever happened the rest of that day, but this? This was going against everything!

Because of the sickness, he has yet to be able to work on his creations, check on his plants, or anything! You know what he had to do? He had to let Michelangelo handle his plants. He hated anyone else messing with them because the plants were his. 

His and only his.

While he was rambling in his head, he heard footsteps, so he lifted his head to see that Y/n came in, brushing the curtain out of the way, and they looked at him.

They exchanged glances for a few moments before Y/n smiled slightly and raised their hand, waving at him, saying, "Hey Donnie... sorry it took me so long to come and see you." They came over and sat beside the bed.

Gosh. They were thoughtful to come and see him, even though he did not particularly want them to. Nothing against them; as you are aware, he really likes them! The PROBLEM is that he really likes them. 

Ugh.

He looks down to avoid looking at them and picks up his tea cup, slowly sipping from it to relieve the tingle in his throat. He didn't think he had any more petals to cough up now, or at least he hoped not. Maybe they would grow back, but he's been coughing a lot lately.

Much more than usual.

The normal amount of coughing should be zero, if he had to be honest. Coughing was so irritating! Something that would give you headaches, a sore back, arm, or anything else like that. “You got in trouble; it isn’t your fault.” When he saw them flinch at his voice, he had to purse his lips. Aw man, it was that bad.

They sat in silence together; the only sounds were the sounds of Donatello sipping from the cup and the machine beeping to show his heartbeat. It was going a bit faster than normal—faster than before too, honestly. Y/n being around made him nervous, which he thought was a bit amusing.

Now that he figured out he enjoyed their company more than a normal person would, he was feeling strangely nervous. Did Y/n have feelings for him? Would they like him? He knew that they were his friend, though being in a relationship is different than being friends.

Y/n turns their head down to mess with their sleeves, then they sigh and look at him with a small frown on their face, and they ask. "Hey Donnie, that message you sent me before—was that when something went wrong? What happened?"

Everyone kept asking him questions that he didn't exactly want to answer, so he sighs out through his nose. It was, strangely, easier to do that than with his mouth.

How much did he want to tell Y/n? Lying in person was even harder than on the computer in voice! He taps his claw against the cup, pursing his lips, before he starts to talk. "I started to cough. It became worse than I first expected, and..." he shakes his head, looking away. "It doesn't matter."

Y/n seems to perk up at that and frowns, moving to rest their hands on his leg that was under the blanket, and they say a bit loudly. "Of course it matters! You're a really important person to me, and if you're hurt, then I want to help you the best that I can. How can you say that it doesn't matter?"

Donatello looks at them with wide eyes, his mouth opening slightly, then shuts it again and gulps. Aw man, there was that feeling again, and so much stronger than before. The sensation of something tickling the back of his throat was awful; he felt like gagging. "T..." he started to try to say, though he couldn't get the words out because the petals kept trying to push their way out. He stands up and holds up his hand in a silent way of saying he would be right back, and hurries over to the bathroom to throw up the petals into the toilet.

Gross.

Coughing like this was something that he should have gotten used to already. He's been coughing so much for 12 days now! But it was getting worse—even worse than just a few minutes ago.

Did he wait too long?

What was going to happen to him? It was strange; he never thought about dying like this before. I mean, sure, he’s thought about it, at any rate he knew that he was strong, so he could handle a lot. It is insane to think that flowers could kill him. The coughs made loud rings spread out in his head, as if there were bells swinging back and forth against each other. Yeah, there were.

Alarm bells!

Were they trying to tell him to stop being such a jerk and tell Y/n how he felt? I mean, the worst that could happen is that they reject him, and if they do that, then he could try to get the surgery or talk to Draxum about it.

The worst that could happen is that Y/n decides he is gross and tells him that they would rather die than date him, then never speaks to him again and even stops speaking to his brothers, which would upset them as well.

Would they blame him for it? No, he knew that his brothers wouldn’t, then again he would still feel strangely guilty.

At the very least, he was aware that Y/n would not do such a thing! If they didn’t return his feelings, they would tell him that, and they would probably go back to normal… at least, that’s what he hoped would happen. They go back to normal, Y/n is still his friend, and everything’s happy.

As he finally finished coughing up the petals and flowers, he looked down and reached up to rub at his throat. God, that is… that is a lot of blood. He heard knocking on the door that he hadn’t heard before because of how hard he had been coughing and convulsing because of the coughs. He turns his head to look at the door, trying to listen through the ringing that was trying to fill his head. Y/n’s voice was cutting through the wood of the door as they were speaking. “Donnie? Donnie, should I get Leo or the others?” Well, at least they didn’t try to open the door. He would have had to shut it so they wouldn’t see anything that they shouldn’t have.

With a breath that he regretted not even a second later, he moved the toilet seat down to hide the blood covered flowers floating in the gross water. “Come in.” his voice shook and crackled like an old TV, which made him groan on the inside.

There was no movement for a moment, then the door slowly creaked open, and Y/n looked at him, then frowned and walked over to crouch beside him. “Aw Donnie...” They reach out and start to gently rub their hands on his shell.

Look, normally, honestly, he wouldn’t let anyone touch his shell when he didn’t have his battleshell on, and he was already feeling bad. Despite everything he said, their hands were warm and soft, so he leaned into them, shutting his eyes.

“Should I go get Leo? I think you need the tube fixed.” They continue; nevertheless, he sighs and shakes his head. Right now, he knew that he needed to do this. 

Yes, Donatello said earlier that he didn’t want to confess because he wasn’t ready, nonetheless he had a feeling that if he didn’t do it now, he would end up getting too sick to do it.

This was it.

“Y/n.” he starts, and he feels them perk up, then hum to show that they heard him. He takes a shaky breath before continuing. “I... I have found that my feelings for you are less than friendly . Of course not in th...the bad way; more in the other. I have learned that I have a... a bit of a crush a-and-” he stops for a moment to catch his breath. “I would like to know if you, mayhaps, would share the feelings.” his eyes shoot up to look at them, then away, waiting for the response.

His heart was pounding, his cheeks flushed, and his body shaking a little. This was crazy, man.

…

……

………

“Years and years have passed since that day—when we learned what that disease was and how dangerous it could be. Now, it is always taught to children and teens of all ages to understand what the disease is, what the cause is, and how to fix it.” an older human was explaining to two younger humans who were sitting on the ground with their legs crossed. One was a boy, and one was a girl!

The boy was a boy known as Casey Jr.! Child of Cassandra and Raphael Hamato!

He was nodding along, holding his hands together in his lap with big eyes. He seemed very interested, while the girl was focusing on other things. Why? Well, because she was a lot younger.

The human laughed and snapped their fingers a few times to get the younger girl's attention, while Casey Jr. asked, "What happened after that?”

The question was about to be answered, though before they could, the human got scooped up in large arms, making them yelp. “They returned my feelings; we ended up getting married a few years later, and I created you two in my lab.” Donatello says, then nuzzles his snout against Y/n’s cheek. Y/n laughed, pushing on his cheek gently to try to get him to lean away while the girl squeals with enjoyment, holding out her little nubby arms. “Dada!”

“Hello to you too, Betto.” He walks closer and picks up the baby too, pecking a kiss on her chubby cheek, which causes her to giggle. She grabbed his visor from in front of his scarred eyes and put them over her own. Of course, Donatello allowed it, not minding too much. As long as she didn’t break it, he didn’t mind not being able to see for a little while.

“I thought that you were going to be taking longer to get home; that’s what I was told by Cass?” Y/n asks, and Donatello shakes his head. He then responded. “No, we finished early and told them that we were going to be home sooner; she most likely told you that so you would be surprised. How kind.” Yes, Y/n and Donatello got married a little while after they got together. It was a sweet moment for them, and Raphael cried.

They got closer, then the Krang appeared, and since then, they’ve stuck together through thick and thin. When Raphael came to Donatello, asking him to create a child for him and Cassandra, Donatello realized that hey, he could make one for himself and Y/n as well! And yes, that’s what he did! A little while after, of course. Taking care of one baby was more than enough.

He was excited for when the Krang were beaten to show Casey Jr. and Betto around and tell them even more stories. It would happen sooner or later, he was sure… and sure, Raphael wouldn’t be with them anymore, but Casey Jr. is here, and they were going to keep them both alive.

No matter what it took.

After all… they were the children of the apocalypse.

[moviegroovies]

of all the movies i believed might warrant a moviegroovies revival, i think i speak for all of us when i say that this one was... not at the top of the list. nevertheless: unexpected, unwanted, and unsung: dream a little dream (1989).

mmmmm... i liked it. more than i expected to, anyway. to be honest, this was one i probably wouldn’t have picked up on my own, even for the “two coreys” phenomenon and its tangential connection back to the lost boys (my beloved)--as i’ve indicated before, while i’ll do anything for love (of the lost boys), i won’t do that (watch corey feldman movies)--but my dad got some kind of meredith salenger itch this week, and this was the result. all in all, it was pretty solid? kind of dragged for me, but there were no scenes i’d point to in particular and say “cut this.” plus, they did some interesting things with the bodyswap concept... and, if we’re being honest, i found myself pretty impressed by feldman’s performance.

(said nobody ever. i know, i know.)

what i liked: the body swap is a fairly standard stock plot (although, as i type this, i can’t call to mind NEARLY as many examples as i thought i could. i’ve extolled the virtues of vince vaugn in freaky on this blog before, haven’t i?), but dream a little dream had a fairly unique take on it; most of the movie is corey feldman acting as jason robbards’ character coleman, but we never see robbards as bobby. the justification for the plot is given a lot more screentime than the handwavey explanation which typically accompanies such a story (although i’m not necessarily sure that this is a good thing--sometimes the plot does NOT demand explanation; groundhog day & etc.), too--we devote a substantial amount of the exposition to coleman’s obsession with dreams and the idea that, as we don’t really know what dreams “are,” therein lies the path to eternal life, eternal youth...

sometimes it really is better just to say a wizard did it and have done, i think.

what really stood out to me, though, was whose movie it really was. don’t let the smokescreen of the two coreys fool you--dream a little dream is coleman’s movie, through and through. coleman, not the delinquent teenagers, is the one with a problem to be solved. it’s coleman, and apparently coleman alone, who has to learn a lesson, and while “this was what being young was like--and it wasn’t easy” is a pretty standard one for this genre, it feels... different, as presented. i searched a while for the big why, until it hit me: dream a little dream is a teen comedy about an old man.

bobby, on his own, has plenty of problems, and the introduction, cutting between title cards and a seinfeldian conversation between coreys feldman and haim, serves as something of a red herring in that respect. we gear up for a movie about teenage ne’er-do-wells coming of age, finding themselves, and presumably getting the girl. the thing is, though--that’s not the movie we get. quickly after we’re presented with our presumed protagonists, we’re introduced to another figure: a grumpy old man searching, to the detriment of his relationship with his friends and wife, even, for more. he has a good life, and he’s still deeply in love with gena, but he’s restless and ill-content. it’s already a departure from the role of older figures in such movies (because if our teenage protagonists represent youth and chaos, then older characters, especially much older characters like coleman and gena, are stability, stagnation--they’ve already figured it all out, and are liable to be trapped in their ways)... and then his obsession pays off, with a little help from fate, and he ends up occupying the body of bobby keller, with gena taking up a more backseat role possessing his female counterpart, lainie diamond.

like i said, the reverse is never true. bobby still exists in a spiritual form during coleman’s escapade, making the occasional cameo in coleman’s dreams (and one has to wonder about the influence of a nightmare on elm street on this movie’s final form; at one point, bobby even quips “you were expecting, maybe... freddy krueger?”, the dreams are shot in a similar, fuzzy way to nancy’s, and in the last act not falling asleep becomes an apparently life-or-death matter for gena), but he’s not walking around in coleman’s body, which i do believe the movie is stronger for. bobby might have a takeaway lesson from all of this, but it’s coleman we follow, navigating his way through high school and first love and the mortifying ordeal of trying to pull his wife’s consciousness up through a teenage girl’s mind. and i like that the delineation between lainie and gena and even bobby and coleman isn’t always clear; they’re sharing the bodies. as coleman points out at one point, “we’re them.” there isn’t quite a point where one stops and the other starts--coleman takes on more of bobby’s mannerisms and speech patterns the longer he plays his part, and lainie, when she’s around coleman, acts more and more in accordance to gena’s personal quirks. it’s surprisingly heartfelt, in a way. the end product is sometimes messy, because it’s juggling the body-swapping a-plot with a romantic triangle subplot involving an angry boy with a gun and a minor gang war between rival delinquent groups at the school (although, i will say that the culmination of THAT, the confrontation where coleman urges joel to shoot HIM, was pretty satisfying), but it’s mature in a way you don’t see in a lot of its contemporaries. ultimately, we’re watching an old man face the consequences of his monomania and realize what really matters to him is love. the rest is set dressing.

and as for the rest, hm. corey haim’s role didn’t pan out nearly as much as i expected it to. he sticks around for most of the movie to make faces at coleman when he does out of character shit in bobby’s body, but doesn’t even make it into the final scene when coleman and bobby (in their respective bodies again) come to a final understanding. it was already a pretty long movie, but i can’t help feeling like more could have been done with their friendship, especially with dinger making it onto the cover of the movie (unlike robbards) and into all of the promotional material. toward the end, coleman-as-bobby genuinely thanks dinger for looking out for him during the ordeal, only for dinger to ask if he’s “going fag” for his trouble. (as an aside: was this a thing people said? i’d never really heard it before i watched the warriors last week, but here it popped up again. whatever.) dinger’s character also continuously brought weird, sexualized racial comments to the table (first referring to apache women, then hawai’ian), which served no purpose but white supremacy’s. this, along with the ease with which lainie’s mother makes the decision to have her second husband drug her teenage daughter with a sleeping pill mixed into a glass of wine, can be explained (but not excused) as products of their time, but, y’know, come on. even in 1989, these scenes were written, greenlit, and parroted by people who should have known better.

hey, killer soundtrack, though. all in all, i could watch it again.

[babaleshy]

This is a TMI post. Read at your own risk.

It has been a long while since I last talked about my sexuality and libido and stuff on this site. In fact, I believe it was long before the big migration in 2018 from this site. And since you've clicked on "keep reading," I just want you to know you may know a little more about me and what I'm into than what you'd like to know (especially if you know me irl). I say this because sex stuff isn't something I always post on tumblr.

So let's get started..

First off: my libido... I haven't had it this bad in a few years ever since my health took a massive tank. It didn't help that after surgery, nobody instructed me on how to gain weight. I wanted to see a dietitian who knew about endometriosis and what foods would be best to avoid. But that was a horrible, waste-of-time dead-end, and I've had to do shit on my own. So far, it's working, but my high metabolism isn't making it easy.

I finally tried that Ensure drink and it's definitely helped. But that was a couple days ago. Without that, it has taken me from June to now to get close to gaining ten pounds. That's discouraging when you have two "professionals" judge you based on someone with a normal metabolism and not a high one. I was being treated as if I wasn't eating anything and told me to go with smoothies before "getting me started on solids." To them, everything I said was a lie. That caused a mental health spiral for a few months.

I'm doing better now, and now that I have a more carbs and fats-based diet plus that drink, my libido has roared back. I've worn my husband out, but his job and stresses have affected his health after several years, so that's understandable.

The only blips of libido I had between when my health took a shit and finally gaining some weight was discovering a fetish/kink: monster fucking.

Of course, I have ethics: the monster(s) must be intelligent, self-aware, etc. Also: definitely capable of talking. But being greysexual, I'm "picky" about my monsters, too. For example: werewolves of the wolf-man variety are what do it for me. And of course, I like it when they talk. (Particular kinds of dirty-talk do it for me, though I'm not sure I'll get into that in this post as of writing). Some demon designs can hit the appeal-spot just right while others are just "meh" to look at. I do have a "type" which tend to be brutes, but even then, I'm picky on designs that I find.

This brings me to a dilemma: I'm an artist, so I should be fully capable of drawing my ideal monsters. The issue is that I suck at drawing people; I'm shit with proportions and faces. Humans and humanoids are incredibly hard for me, yet I can draw animals and fungi like nobody's business. (Of course, it's been a long while since I last tried, so I might try again.)

Another thing I'd like to bring up is during my little "solo sessions," I like to immerse myself a little bit. The best way to do this is to figure out what kind of scene/setting I'm into, and find ambiance videos on YouTube regarding that. From thunderstorms to ancient libraries to haunted castles and caves and haunted forests to a large chunk of hour-or-so-long videos regarding sounds for scenes specially designed for D&D. I've even dabbled in pseudo-exhibitionism by having searched "public ambiance" a few times, as it is the safest way to explore that while not actually being around other people (and that's as far as I'm willing to take it, too). Seriously, ambiance videos on YouTube are a fucking blessing for me. The only shit part is that I don't always get the privacy for it.

I also like layering the videos in different tabs. Maybe I want to faintly hear the crowd of a busy place as if they're right outside of an old library, or make it sound like there's a crowd in a dungeon. I also have found a few monster noise sounds that are about an hour long that I layer with other settings to get creative. This is why I like doing this on my desktop computer and not on a console or something, since apps don't allow you to open different tabs.

I share those little tips in case anybody else is looking for better immersion, of course. you also don't necessarily have to do it for sex reasons. If you're wanting better, more tailored immersion audio for your D&D campaign, and you have access to a computer, use the browser and open different tabs of different videos and see what works for you and your group!

Embracing (after finally finding the term) the fact that I'm a monster fucker kind of person helps me feel a little bit better about my fantasies, largely because the majority of them are usually fictional characters and they tend to be not fully human or not fully human-looking. There are a few monster fucker pride flags floating about, but the one I like tend to have what I call the "horror punk colors" (black, purple, orange, and green and sometimes red or pink), so I haven't really found any singular flags that I fully like (and might just make my own). I figured if there are some kink pride flags, I'm allowed to like the idea of a monster fucker pride flag.

That doesn't mean I'm gonna parade it around, of course. It would be more of an online signifier, or some way of indicating "that's what we're about" if I'm having trouble with some ideas of my own and need some inspiration.

According to my husband, I am very good at writing smut, including monster fucker ones. One day, I might write a smut anthology. If such a project ends up existing and is a WIP sort of thing, I may contribute to it. If I try to write a full-on novel, it might not ever see the light of day because I've tried for years to write a novel/story and I just simply run out of steam.

Outside of kinks and fetishes that I'm into, I need to invest in a good vibrator. I've broken several cheap ones, and the last one I bought was a few years ago (which is also broken and didn't last long). So I've resorted to, when desperate on days that I don't shower (so I could use the showerhead), nitrile gloves. This is largely because of a sensory thing where if I finger myself, my brain focuses more on what my fingers are feeling rather than my genitalia. This sucks because I have always taken FOREVER; quickies are not a thing my body can do. It doesn't matter how turned on I am. This means my hand or my wrist (or both!) hurt like hell afterwards. But this has caused me to get desperate enough to finally start internally finger myself instead of sticking with just the clit. It's taken me a long time in my life to comfortably due this thanks to having vaginismus.

For now, I just want a decent vibrator, and will get one ordered a few weeks from now. However, the second toy I'll eventually get is my very first dildo. And, of course, it'll be monster-based. I've found one that is quite small for my first one, so I'm looking forward to getting it!

All of this means that I'm getting my health back on track, but there's one little issue: I haven't had a period all October, and was supposed to start one around the time of NOW and it still hasn't happened. I have no symptoms of any sort, so I got no idea what's up with this other than climate change REALLY fucking with the seasons, especially transitional ones like spring and autumn. My periods since my surgery have been marginally better; I don't need my husband to carry me to the bathroom. I rarely have him cook for me, too! But now? I don't know why I haven't had my period yet. I'm 33 as of this writing, and being down one ovary and two fallopian tubes, I'd imagine I'm "getting to be that age." If I don't have one by December, I may have to see a gyno about this. I've never had irregular periods before. I've missed a few in my life, but that's due to other factors such as far too much caffeine, stress, and the change of seasons (not always on that last part!).

I should've looked up monster porn on tumblr years ago and saved up a nice little spank-bank for myself. I'm mad that I didn't. So I'm likely gonna look around on the internet for some.

Now that I think of it, I should find some damn way to draw images of monsters watching the viewer, perhaps even doing stuff to themselves could even help with the immersion. Can't exactly do much with my husband due to a lack of privacy living with my parents and all. It sucks. :/

I think I'm done rambling about explicit, adult stuff too weird for normal adults, now.

[therenlover]

One Last Night In Madripoor (An 18+ Helmut Zemo/Reader Oneshot)

Synopsis: Baron Helmut Zemo is a lonely, wanted man looking for some fun, you’re a piss-poor bounty hunter in search of a connection before leaving your life of crime behind, and fate has brought you together at a party the likes of which has never been seen before. You only have one night left in Madripoor, so why not take a chance?

Tags: Smut, SoftDom!Zemo, Hook Up, Semi-Public Sex, Drinking, Safe Sex, Explicit Consent, First Meeting, Wall Sex, Blow Jobs, Cunnilingus

Rating: 18+

Warnings: Swearing, Explicit Sexual Content

Word Count: 4200~

This fic has been crossposted under the same title to my AO3!

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Madripoor was a place like nothing you had ever seen.

It wasn’t that the sights were anything special. You could find seedy criminal underbellies lined with neon where the streets ran red with blood anywhere if you looked hard enough. Even the ocean view didn’t do much to set it apart from any other place visually. No, Madripoor’s scenery and architecture weren’t what kept your eyes wide with wonder whenever you found yourself wandering through the winding back-alleys without a purpose. It was the people that kept you around.

Thieves, pirates, and miscreants had been taking shelter at the docks since before anyone there could remember. It was a city borne of the underbelly of society, the people nobody sees, but you saw them. You saw them every day when you stood in the main market waiting for an easy bounty. There were faces everywhere; big and small, tall and short, scarred and flawless. No two people in the streets of Madripoor were ever exactly alike. If you needed to remember someone, their unique face was right there waiting in your mind.

After living on the island for almost 6 months, most people were already cataloged neatly in your mind as friend or foe. This man, though, he was new. He was different.

The night was still young. There was some trouble at the Princess Bar that ended with Selby dead and a few murderers loose in the streets with a price on their heads, but you steered clear. Going after the killers meant going up against hundreds if not thousands of trained bounty hunters and assassins and no amount of money was worth dying over now, not while you were so close to freedom. Instead of chasing your doom, you decided to head to your room, get dressed up, and head out to wherever the music was loudest in search of a place to forget about your problems for the night. The thudding sounds of poorly DJ-ed club remixes led you to Leonardo’s Place. That’s where you found him.

You were two drinks in and sticking close to the wall when he stumbled into your line of sight. What initially caught your eye was his dancing. He couldn’t move for shit. What kept your attention, though, was his face.

There was transience to him, like at any moment someone could bump into him and he would disappear without a trace at their touch. Despite that he was gaudy. Everything about his clothing screamed wealth and fine taste from the thread count of his obnoxious purple turtleneck to the shine on his boots. He was strange, a walking contradiction, and one who had never had the pleasure of gracing your presence or screwing you over in the past. In the simplest of terms, he intrigued you. With nothing left to lose you downed the last of your cocktail and made your way to the gap in the crowd where the stranger had staked his claim. It was game time.

“You come here alone?” You asked. Your voice was barely a whisper above the heavy thrumming of the music.

He gave you a long look up and down before answering as if he were trying to size you up. Something about having his gaze linger on your body made your heartbeat soar. “I’m not looking for company,” His accented tone was gruff but left a sliver of room for reconsideration. You took the chance. What could go wrong?

With as much tact and grace as you could muster you let yourself slip a little closer to him. “What, do I look too expensive for you?” you teased, before backing off with a grin, “Thanks for the compliment, but I’m not here for that. My job is a little more… dangerous.” As you danced, the hem of your dress rode up your thigh just enough to reveal the knife holster in your garter belt. It pleased you greatly to see this handsome stranger do a double-take; that meant he was looking at your upper thigh in the first place. “I just liked what I saw in you… do you like what you see in me?”

Somehow, your little joke had endeared him to you, however minutely. Instead of brushing you off the man paused his jerky dancing for a moment to really take you in. Then, he caved. “Would you like a drink?” He asked.

You smirked. “Who would I be if I turned down a free drink from a handsome stranger,”

He met you in the middle as he offered you his hand. “I never promised it would be free,”

So, the two of you found yourselves at the bar, bodies leaned into each other and away from the rest of the sweltering crowd as the bartender slid you your order. The stranger was drinking a brandy straight while you opted for a sidecar. It was enough alcohol that you were starting to feel pretty buzzed, but you still felt in full control of yourself. You took a long sip before speaking. “So, what should I call you?”

It took him a moment to respond but once he did, he seemed sure of himself. “You can call me Helmut, but Baron is fine as well,”

You cocked up an eyebrow. “Is that a nickname?”

“More of a title,”

He took a drink as you gawked. “Like royalty?”

“Not like. I am,”

Your cheeks flushed. The rational part of your mind was so stunned by the ease with which Helmut lied that it seemed to short circuit completely, leaving you very puzzled and more than a little intrigued. “Well, pardon me, Mr. Baron. What’s royalty like you doing in a place like this?”

“There are plenty of reasons a man like me would have business here. A woman as beautiful as you, though… not so much,” he waved his hand in loose gestures as he spoke, “Why risk your life and beauty for this? A life living in the underground where you cannot so much as dream of seeing the stars?”

You finished your drink in one large swig. It burned down your throat but you relished in the pain. “Not all of us are lucky enough to be born in a place where we can see the stars. Funny enough, though, I’m just about to get out,”

“Is that right?”

“I finally saved up enough money from small jobs to buy my way out from under the Power Broker’s thumb,” Something about the way Helmut smiled at you made you feel safe. It was like you could tell him your worst, darkest secrets and not feel an ounce of fear or guilt. “I’m nothing special here, a small-time bounty hunter, and I kept it that way for a reason. I’m not valuable and I don’t know much. If I just pay my dues and keep the money coming until I can get their claws out of my back, I should be free to leave with a freighter tomorrow morning,”

Helmut was quick to respond. “Ah, travel by freighter. It’s terribly dangerous to be a stowaway, you know? Impossible to predict quite what the seas will be like,”

“Well, that’s just a risk I’ll have to take to get out of here and stop… what was it that you said I was doing? Risking my life and beauty?”

The two of you chuckled as Helmut took one last drink to empty his glass. Then, the conversation stilled. Around you people were alive, gyrating to the music as their pulses thumped to the beat, but it was like they weren’t even there. Instead, your whole being was focused on the strange man in front of you who had stolen away your sensibilities with his cool tone and thick accent. He made you feel alive. No, more than alive. Every color was brighter, every sound was sharper, every sip of your drink was crisper. He was a once-in-a-lifetime man, and this was a once-in-a-lifetime night. Oh, to hell with it!

“I like you, Baron,” you purred, pressing yourself close to him. His breath hitched the moment you touched him. He acted as if it had been a very long time since he was last touched like that. “And I think you like me too. In fact, I think you like me enough that we should take this conversation somewhere a little more private. What do you say?”

He didn’t respond. Instead, his gloved hand made its way around your wrist, and in a moment’s time, he was pulling you across the crowded dance floor towards a small, secluded hallway. You assumed that meant yes.

The instant you made it to the shelter of the shadows Helmut was on you like a man starved. One of his hands was quick to explore the skin just above the hem of your dress as the other pressed against the wall, caging you in and holding you as a more than willing hostage to his affections. He didn’t kiss your face, and you weren’t complaining about that, but he did put his mouth to good use sucking a dark bruise into your collarbone. His ministrations only stopped when a high, keening sound escaped your lips.

“You like that, don’t you, meine kleine schlampe?” he growled through gritted teeth. Something about his tone turned your already weak legs to jelly. The second you went limp in his grip, though, he pulled back. Straightening himself out, he offered you a steadying arm. You took it without hesitation. “I’m terribly sorry to be so rude. I assure you that I am not usually the type of man to hook up with someone on a whim, I’ve simply been… indisposed for many years and haven’t had many opportunities for pleasure, especially not with a woman as beautiful as you,”

His compliment was enough to have you blushing like a schoolgirl. You had killed more people than you could reasonably count, and probably fucked even more, but something about the way Helmut looked and sounded and acted made you feel almost innocent to his advances. He was a drug and you needed to get your fix before he disappeared forever.

“Does that mean you think I’m special?” You asked, all doe eyes with an innocent smile. Helmut ate it right up.

“Yes, schatzi. Very special,”

You hitched a leg up, letting your heel dig into his expensive dress pants and drag him closer to you once again. “First your little slut and now your little treasure? Which one is it, Helmut?”

“And so smart,”

“Move, Baron!”

At your insistence, Helmut was on you once again, leaving a trail of hot, wet kisses down your neck as he fiddled with his gloves, yanking them off and shoving them in his back pocket before he continued. “So demanding,” he chided, and yet he continued to lavish you with affection, his hand climbing higher and higher up your thigh. Your back was pressed flush to the wall now, and you were painfully aware of just how warm Helmut was. He smelled like a rich man’s cologne and yet his skin tasted of cheap soap when you leaned in to give him a bruise of his own.

“You love it,” you replied. He let out a husky laugh.

“I suppose I do,” he chuckled, and then his fingers brushed over your core. Your knees buckled. Helmut kept you upright with his body as he continued to taunt you through your underwear, but he seemed more confident now, almost cocky. “My needy schatzi, have you no patience?”

Your response was breathless; a confession.

“Not with you,”

Something about your words lit a fire in Helmut’s eyes. In an instant he had your leg hiked up while he ground his hardened length against your clothed wetness. Your mind went blank. He felt big. A mindless whimper fell from your lips.

“How do you want me?” Helmut asked. As he spoke he ran a light finger down your elevated thigh. You offered up another whimper. “I’ll need you to use your words and tell me what you want or I can’t give it to you,” His tone had you wet enough that you worried you were dripping.

With a gulp, you managed to fumble out the words. “I’ll blow you first if you promise to fuck me,”

That had him grinning like a wolf. “Perhaps you are my little schlampe, so eager to get down on your knees for me…” And you were. Even on shaky legs, you found yourself happily falling to your knees as the Baron fumbled with his fly. It was only then that you found yourself gazing down the hall towards the cacophony of lights and sounds and people maybe 20 feet away from your hiding place in the shadows. As if he could sense your discomfort, Helmut paused. “Are you alright?”

You nodded quickly. “I just forgot we were out in the open for a second,”

“Do you want to stop? If the location is the problem, I would gladly pause so we can find a new hideaway,” he stopped short, looking down and meeting your heavily lidded gaze, “or perhaps the idea of putting on a show excites you?” Your heart jumped out of your chest. Helmut noticed. “Well, if my little schlampe is so keen on putting on a show, she should get a move on,”

That was your cue to get to work. In a swift motion, you finished unzipping his fly and shifted his boxers, letting his lovely cock spring free. It was a pleasant penis and far as they went, average in length but thick with a leaking purple tip at half-mast. Just looking at it made you clamp your legs together.

Slowly, you gave a tentative lick up the underside of his length. He felt heavy on your tongue in the best of ways. Helmut jerked upward, a man possessed. You couldn’t help but laugh. “It’s been a long time, huh?”

“Less talking, more working little schlam-” you cut Helmut off quickly by taking most of his length into his mouth. That seemed to shut him up. His wolf-like grin had dissolved into a slack-jawed mess the second you started to suck him off. Oh, this was going to be fun.

For the most part, the Baron let you set the pace, bobbing your head and taking as much of his length as you comfortably could, but after a short while his hands were buried in your hair as he fought the urge to buck into your throat, hard. With a particularly rough snap of his hips, Helmut pulled away.

“You are an angel from heaven, schatzi,” he groaned, pulling himself slowly from your mouth as you got your first good deep breath in a while, “but a deal is a deal, and it wouldn’t be quite fair if I got to have all the fun, now would it?” Your breath hitched in your throat. Finally time for the main event.

Helmut was surprisingly gentle with you as he offered you a hand and helped you back up, only pausing to wipe a line of dribble off your chin with his thumb. With anyone else, it would have felt wholly humiliating but with Helmut… well, it did things to you you would rather not admit. You quirked up an eyebrow, though, when he got on his knees in turn, mirroring your past position. “What are you doing, Baron?”

“I simply assumed my sweet schatzi would enjoy a reward for taking my cock so well,” his words had you biting your lip as your cheeks flushed, “now be a good girl and take what I give you. I want to hear those pretty noises you made earlier,” With that, his face disappeared under your skirt. He pulled down your panties and… snickered?

“What now?” you groaned, squirming as his hot breath hit your exposed nub.

“You’re sopping wet,” he replied. Out of habit, you moved to shut your legs but found Helmut’s large hand was holding them open. “I do enjoy being sandwiched between your thighs, but you shouldn’t hide yourself from me. Take your pleasure. You’ve earned it,” That was when he began his assault on your folds.

You had been with plenty of partners over the years, all with varying proficiencies when it came to giving pleasure, but no one had ever made you feel quite as good as Helmut did while you gripped his hair and rode his face with reckless abandon. He always hit just the right spot, alternating between sucking on your sensitive clit and running his rough tongue in sloppy circles against it. In no time flat your pleasure was building toward’s its peak as your knees trembled.

“Helmut,” you squeaked, “Helmut I’m gonna cuuuUUOH!”

You were suddenly thrown over the edge of pleasure as the Baron worked you open with his fingers, pressing that spot inside of you just right. It was a revelation. Nothing would ever compare to him and you hadn’t even fucked yet. Once you had regained some semblance of stability he emerged from his place between your thighs, face slick with your juices, wearing the expression of a cat that got the cream.

“You make such lovely sounds for me, schatzi,” Helmut groaned, rising from his place at your feet and reaching into his pocket. While he fumbled for a condom you took the time to actually remove your panties, lifting one shaky leg at a time before balling them up and tossing them on the ground. You could grab them later. Or not! In all honesty, your ruined undies were the last thing on your mind as your watched Helmut roll the condom onto his proud cock, pumping himself a few times. “Now, are you sure you want this?”

You had never felt more sober in your whole life despite the drinks you’d downed earlier.

“God, yes,”

“Wonderful,”

He caged you into his body once again, lining himself up on your slick folds, and then with a pronounced bite against your collarbone, he was entering you. It wasn’t painful or uncomfortable, you just felt full, like a missing piece of your body had been completed. For the first few thrusts, you were too blissed out to really take note of anything around you, but once you tuned back into the world of the living you realized Helmut was talking. Well, babbling was more like it. He seemed to simply be speaking his stream of consciousness into your ear as he pistoned in and out of you like a madman. There was a jilted rhythm to it, but the abnormality kept you on your toes.

“I won’t be letting you go any time soon, schatzi, and definitely not on some dank freighter like a rat from the gutters. No, you will travel with me. Once I help my friends and slip away from the front lines I can take you anywhere your little heart desires. Paris, Vienna, Australia… Mein Gott, what a sweet cunt,”

Any sane woman, after hearing his sex-drunken musings, would have run. They would have heard the wild ramblings of a madman and left after their little fling was done to never see him again. It was only rational. He didn’t even know your real name. Sane women didn’t run away with strangers claiming to be barons they hooked up with in a seedy club selling stolen Van Goghs in a hub of the criminal underworld.

The only thing was, though, that you weren’t a sane woman.

You were a killer, a child left in the streets to live or die who had scraped themselves together and dragged themselves towards life. So what if the idea of some rich mysterious benefactor with a good dick coming in to save the day sounded fantastic? It was fantastic. Like your own personal version of Pretty Woman. Even if he wasn’t as rich as he claimed to be, being poor and getting dicked down by him was better than being poor and alone.

For just a moment, and with no regrets, you let yourself get lost in the fantasy and just let go.

It was as if Helmut could sense a difference.

“Are you close, little schlampe?” He gasped, letting his thrusts take on a faster staccato rhythm.

You could do little more than moan and nod as he pounded you into the wall. That seemed to be enough for him to get the message, though.

“What a good girl,” he purred. His mouth was so close to your ear, his hot breath tickling the sensitive flesh with each heaving breath he took. As he chased his own climax, he brought a hand between your bodies and rubbed tight, wet circles around your clit. It was already sensitive, your body was only barely recovering from your first orgasm, and yet something about the overstimulation was thrilling, like racing towards an impossible dream. With a shout, you came for the second time, melting into Baron Helmut’s arms as he quickly followed.

The two of you stayed there, slumped against the cool wall and still connected by your dripping sexes, for a few moments, breathing heavy. Surprisingly, you were the first to speak.

“Wow,” you breathed, letting a soft laugh escape your lips.

Helmut returned the sentiment. “You were wonderful,” In a strange moment of intimacy, he pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead, but then he pulled out, tying off the full condom and tossing it to the ground as he tucked himself back into his boxers and zipped up his fly.

“Are you just gonna leave that there?” you made a gesture towards his litter.

“They have janitors,”

A burbling laugh escaped from your lips. “That they do,”

Back in the main room of the party, the crowd had only grown larger as the night progressed. Nobody had seen you, nor had they noticed your cries as they danced and drank and made merry under the neon lights. You were, for all intents and purposes, invisible at Helmut’s side. Within and without. There was something exhilarating about knowing he was the only one that truly saw you in a room packed with hundreds. It was like something out of a twisted fairytale.

“So…” you broached the subject gently while you pulled down your dress to protect your modesty, “Did you mean what you said back there about Paris and Vienna, or…”

“Oh, you heard that?”

You snickered. “It was pretty hard not to with you breathing in my ear,”

“I apologize,” he leaned against the wall beside you, shoulder to shoulder in the darkness, “but yes, I meant what I said. I-”

Suddenly, from down the hall, a booming voice interrupted your moment.

“There you are!”

“Goddamnit, Zemo, I thought we told you to stay low not hire an escort,”

There, at the mouth of the hallway, stood two massive men. They were obviously displeased, and though their faces were obscured by the lights you could tell you weren’t the one they were after.

They called him Zemo… where had you heard that name before?

Helmut stepped away from the wall with a shrug. “At least I didn’t cause a scene by forgetting to put my phone on silent,”

The larger of the two men stayed where he was, while the other walked to meet the Baron in the middle.

“I swear to God, man, you’ve gotten ten times more insufferable since I learned you were rich.

The Baron shrugged. “It comes with the territory,”

“But you don’t have to be such a jackass about it,”

You felt it was a good time to chime in.

“Thank you so much for that, Helmut, but I think I should give you guys some privacy,” you said, straightening out your dress and walking deeper into the hallway. There had to be an exit somewhere…

“Wait!” When you turned, you found Helmut rushing to meet you. The men in the background looked shocked and almost smug. “Save your money. Meet me out at the airstrip tomorrow afternoon if you feel like seeing me again. If not, know that the Power Broker doesn’t let go of assets cheap, and you just slept with a man with a million dollar bounty, so buying your freedom isn’t an option. If you want to go without me, you’ll have to hitch a ride on a cargo ship but not as a stowaway. Working for your keep is the best way to stay under the radar. Nobody can touch you once you’r-”

You cut him off by pressing a finger to his lips. “I’ll see you at your private jet, Baron,”

He smirked. “So you will,” With as much gusto as a man could muster, he returned to his companions but not before offering one last goodbye. “Farewell, schatzi, until tomorrow,”

As you leaned up against the wall once more, you watched them go with a twinkle in your eye.

“Who was that?”

“None of your business, James,”

“Guys, what the hell did I just step on?”

“I believe that was my used rubber,”

“ZEMO!”

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a/n: I hope you enjoyed the filth! I haven’t written for Zemo before, even though I’ve loved him for years, but he’s definitely going into my main rotation now. If you have any ideas, send them my way! I’d love to fill the void, because there just aren’t very many Zemo x reader fics out there. If you enjoyed this, maybe reblog or leave a comment! I’d love to hear your thoughts. Thanks again!

Please do not post my works to any other sites, thanks! <3

[thebibliosphere]

I had a question.

So, just an hour or two ago, I was going through some sort of “manic high”, sorta like how somebody with bipolar disorder would have (I don’t have BPD). It felt like a bullet train at max speed and completely derailing, and it was incredibly draining. It also got me wondering.

Do people with severe enough ADHD deal with ADHD episodes like this? My search attempts are often futile because all of it is just talking about how to differentiate between BPD and ADHD and BPD manic episodes, but nobody ever mentions ADHD episodes; the only time I’ve seen it mentioned ever was when somebody made a clip of crankgameplays to show what an ADHD episode looked like.

Do they even exist? I’ve got no idea, so I was just wondering if you knew.

Hey! Sorry, I saw your other ask a while ago, but I wanted to talk to my ADHD specialist before I answered because I’d never heard of the term “episode” being used to describe ADHD. I’m also going to splice both questions together here and answer them in segments in the hope it helps :)

So like I said, I’d never heard of the term “episode” with ADHD, and neither has my specialist. Part of ADHD is having a natural ebb and flow between inattention and hyperactivity, sometimes skewed toward one or the other, depending on your ADHD type. (What are the different types of ADHD?)

Your type of ADHD may also fluctuate because of other factors, such as stress, changes in medication, hormonal fluctuations, lack of sleep, overstimulation, or even under-stimulation, to name a few. Another overlooked part of ADHD is emotional dysregulation, which may cause rapid cycling emotions that may look like an “episode” to someone unfamiliar with what that actually qualifies. The way my therapist explained it and using your example of bipolar disorder, “episode” is used in diagnostic criteria to categorize manic or depressive episodes that last X amount of time, are usually severe, potentially requiring hospitalization, and are accompanied by other symptoms not found in ADHD.

Our “bursts” of energy or lack thereof typically don’t last long enough to be considered episodes. This isn’t to say they are not severe or debilitating, especially if you suffer from things like anxiety or depression that ADHD can feed into. Merely that “episode” is not used as part of the language used to discuss ADHD, which is likely why you’re not finding anything.

So, do ADHDers experience intense bursts of energy that are draining afterward? Yeah, we can do, especially if we lean more toward hyperactive than inattentive. (And again, it's normal to fluctuate and also for things to be affected or worsened by secondary factors.)

And I'm going to put the rest under the cut because this is hella long.

I’ve seen some people think that all hyperactivity has to come with fixation, but that’s not how ADHD works. It’s true if something gets us excited or gives us a dopamine boost, we might be more prone to becoming hyperfixated and burn all our energy up on that. But you don’t need something to fixate on to experience hyperactivity. Some of us are just wired to the moon sometimes, and yes, it can be very draining when it ends. Some people find medication helpful in regulating their hyperactivity/preventing it from coming in such big swings and dips.

Speaking personally, when I'm hyper and nothing is grabbing my attention, the world and people around me can feel painfully slow. It's like I'm going a mile a minute doing everything but achieving nothing. The crash that comes after can also be particularly bad, as I also have dysthymia, which can tip over into a major depressive episode depending on other factors in my life at that time. For years I was misdiagnosed as having "probably Bipolar Type II" by a doctor who didn't believe teenage girls could "get" ADHD* and convinced my parents I needed psychoactive drugs. The drugs I was on didn't help, in fact, they made me worse so I was taken off them.

It wasn't until I found an ADHD specialist as an adult a few years ago that I made any real progress. And I'll be honest, I was shocked when she diagnosed me with ADHD, I really didn't think I had it. Right up until we started doing the work and slowly but surely my mental health began to improve and my understanding of myself with it.

Sometimes there are days when I will be wired to the moon and it will derail my entire day because I can't focus on a single thing/I'll focus too much on a single thing. Other times, like when I am closer to my menstrual cycle, I'll crash into inattentiveness and depression because of how my hormones affect my various different conditions, including my ADHD. Medication would likely help with this, but due to medical reasons, that's currently not an option for me so I do the best I can.

That said, if you’re experiencing something more than hyperactivity but it's not mania, you may be experiencing a form of hypomania and you should talk to a doctor about your concerns.

Hypomania typically occurs in Bipolar Type II disorder, which is less severe than the manic episodes in Bipolar I. I’ve experienced both manic and hypomanic episodes in my life due to medication interactions, and they felt very different from ADHD hyperactivity. It's not just derailing mile-a-minute thoughts, it's something usually completely mood-altering and out of control feeling followed by devastating crashes.

If you're on any medications and are worried you are experiencing something like this, you need to talk to your doctor. You might just need a dosage tweak, or you might be better off on a different medication altogether. Also, make a thorough check of any and all medications you are taking to check for any interactions.

I'm on a cocktail of meds for my MCAS, which if I were to combine them with the SSRI one of my doctors wants me to try, would result in serotonin syndrome. The doctor didn't notice this, but the pharmacist sure as shit did!

Some people (ask me how I know) even develop mild hypomania from overusing the sunlamps used to treat SAD (link), which is why brands like Verilux now include warnings in their leaflets about not using the lamps for more than X amount of time a day. Thankfully it goes away once you stop overusing the lamps.

Which actually brings me to something you asked last time about being unable to sleep at night. Insomnia and delayed sleep phase cycles are not uncommon in ADHD. This is likely because our circadian rhythm is thought to be out of whack (link).

You also mentioned having racing thoughts at night too, which is not uncommon either with hyperactivity. I find if I get overstimulated before trying to sleep, I’ll end up lying there awake with what I like to call “radio ADHD” playing in my head. It can range from snippets of songs stuck on repeat, conversations, things I’ve watched on TV, arguments, or if something is happening the next day, fixating on not being late for it. Hence, I end up getting no sleep because you can’t accidentally sleep in if you don’t sleep. *jazz hands of despair.*

Sometimes I find Radio ADHD soothing if it’s fixating on something chill, but it can get annoying fast and even distressing if I’m tired and can’t “change the station.” (I’d say “shut it off,” but as of yet, I’ve never been able to do that. Medication helps some people with this, as can looking into “sleep hygiene” if you haven’t already.) Conversely, if I’m bored or something is too stressful, I will 100% fall asleep because my brain would literally rather just turn off than do something I don’t want to do or is a low dopamine reward task.

Brains are fun.

Anyway, I uh, I am not sure if any of this is useful to you, but I hope it helps. Mostly I'm just repeating back what my specialist said when I asked her about it lol. Good luck, and I hope you figure things out.

----

*NB: It's important to note that ADHD and Bipolar Disorder can be comorbid. It's not a one or the other situation. I’m just throwing it out there in case hearing that helps someone else pursue the proper diagnosis!

[delimeful]

Snapshot: Release

new WIBAR Snapshot! 

warnings: mention of trafficking, PTSD, mentions of funeral rites, catharsis, crying, sad hours

-

Patton liked to think himself an optimist, but even he could admit that there were some days where things were bad.

He didn’t like to, of course. Gratitude was a virtue in Ampen culture, and he had carried it with him gladly when he first started spacefaring. It was easy, most days, to find something to be grateful for and thank the sea’s tidings.

Most days.

Though it had taken time, Patton had learned to loosen his grip on the idea of the foam edge, the bright side to a bad situation. He still found the cup half-full, of course, but he also knew that sometimes things were hard, and it was okay to be sad about that.

He was still getting to the part where he told others when he was sad, but that was okay! He was working on it, and as Logan always said, growth took time.

A few rotations after Virgil and him were reunited with his best friends, Virgil had one of those days.

It had started innocuously enough. Patton had been sprawled over Virgil’s legs, continuing his not-so-secret agenda to show Roman and Logan exactly what kind of Human Virgil was. Not harmless, certainly, but-- what was the Common word? Disciplined.

They both knew how easily Virgil could hurt him, could hurt any of them. Patton had been there watching while they escaped, when Virgil slammed into aliens much stronger than an Ampen with unforgiving force. There was no question of his capability for violence, when faced with a threat.

But that was just it. Virgil knew he could hurt them, even through simple carelessness, and he worked so hard not to.

It was clear in every movement. How could Patton feel the subtle tremor in Virgil’s hands when he held him, the attentive stillness of his body when Patton perched on him, the careful softness of his fingers carding through feathers, and feel anything but treasured?

Virgil had protected Patton with everything he had, and Patton was going to return the favor however he could. That’s what friends were for, after all.

So, Patton was nestled into the crook of Virgil’s legs, listening intently as he told a story from back home, occasionally piping in with questions or a story of his own.

Logan would have metaphorically killed for the opportunity to even just listen in on these firsthand Deathworlder anecdotes, but Virgil was still avoiding the Ulgorian with skillful determination. It was a little saddening, but Patton knew better than to push.

Everything was still settling down from their last incident; he didn’t want to disrupt the delicate balance again by shoving Virgil out of his comfort zone.

Instead, he just listened, happy to see the little differences that had overcome his friend since they’d finally gotten free of that horrible cell.

This was far from the first time they’d sat around storytelling.

There was little else to do in their cell, and besides, it was one of the fastest ways to share words, telling tales tall and small and only pausing whenever a word didn’t quite translate or their voices went out. Back then, though, Virgil had shared his stories with an almost bittersweet air about him.

It reminded Patton of the way Crav’n held wakes, long stretches of time spent gathered around their pyre, sharing stories, remembering and honoring the deceased in every way they could. It was as though Virgil was giving up those little pieces of himself in advance, for someone to remember after he was gone. As though he was performing his own funerary rites.

His coatfeathers fluffed up sharply at the thought, and he shuddered a few times to try and settle them back into place. That time was past, Virgil was safe, and so it bore no further thought.

Unaware of the way Patton’s attention had strayed, Virgil ran a hand over his back, shifting feathers back into alignment with surprising delicacy for such a large being. Patton trilled lowly in pleased gratitude, wishing wholeheartedly that Roman would stop glaring long enough to notice this aspect of the Mindscape’s newest resident. They could get along so well if they gave each other a chance, he just knew it…

“Hey, Patton?” Virgil asked, shifting from the bright, long vowels of Patton’s native language to the lower register he used for his own home tongue. Patton perked his antennae up to show his friend that he had his undivided attention; Virgil usually only used English when he was asking something he didn’t want anyone else to overhear.

Nobody was nearby to listen, but that didn’t stop Virgil from casting a guilty look over his shoulder when he admitted, “I snuck into the map room yesterday.”

The ‘map room’ must have been referring to the nav room, where they plotted courses. It had a manual pilot control station as well, which was why Roman had been safeguarding it from Virgil as though he thought the Human would suddenly take up space piracy and seize control of their vessel.

Patton certainly didn’t have any problem with trusting Virgil in there, so he didn’t even twitch at the confession, only narrowing his eyes in silent encouragement for his friend to continue.

Just as Patton no longer shied away from bared teeth, Virgil no longer assumed narrowed eyes signified anger or doubt. He had picked up on a fair amount of Ampen body language during the course of their friendship, and so his lips quirked to the side slightly before he took the invitation to explain.

“I just wanted to know where we were, I guess. It was difficult to make sense of the maps-- It’s not like I’ve had a lot of opportunities to check them out on any of the other ships I’ve been on,” he said, and only the way his eyes rolled up slightly told Patton he was mostly-joking, the hesitant way he did sometimes.

Patton knew their time spent with the smugglers was something everyone on the ship would prefer to forget, including them, but things like that changed a person. They couldn’t be denied. If small, slightly-bitter jokes like this one were how Virgil honored that change, Patton could support it.

“I’d be mappalled with their terrible hosting skills, if I were you,” he chimed in, and he couldn’t help the way his feathers’ glow increased at the sight of Virgil’s smile, even muffled behind a hand. “Do you want to learn how to read the maps?”

“Yes,” Virgil answered, unable to conceal the too-quick way he leapt on the opportunity. There was a pause, his face going slightly pink, but Patton didn’t comment, feeling a swell of sympathy in his upper heart. It was hard to remember sometimes, with how adjusted Patton was to the wayfarer lifestyle, that Virgil was immeasurably far from everything he’d ever known.

“I mean, yeah,” he corrected, clearing his throat in a way that Patton had once mistaken for a growl, “but that’s not actually-- I was trying to see if I could recognize anything. Any stars, or-- or planets, y’know?”

He was avoiding eye contact now, staring at a distant point. He hadn’t moved his hand, which meant that Patton could feel the tremble in it when he butted his head into the point of contact. He crooned soothingly, the type of sound a parent would use to soothe a hatchling.

“I, um. Well, I figured if I knew how far it was, I could figure out how much it would cost to make that sort of…,” he fumbled for a word Patton would know, slipping back into Common for a few words, “extra trip. But I couldn’t find anything familiar. So, I... I thought I’d ask. Like I probably should have in the first place.”

Patton waited, but that seemed to be all Virgil could manage. “Ask what?” he prompted gently. “Space is big, but if there’s certain skysights you miss, I’m sure we can get started on finding them! What are you looking for?”

Virgil’s attention dropped down to him and then flitted away again, not a single sign that he’d even heard Patton’s pun. He clenched and unclenched his fists, and then dragged his gaze back to meet Patton’s.

“... Earth?” he managed, in one of the smallest voices Patton had ever heard from him.

Oh.

Oh.

Patton’s antennae flicked back in dread before he could stop them, and Virgil’s face twitched slightly, making an expression that he’d never seen before. His chin had dimpled, his jaw clenched, tense as though waiting for a blow.

Waiting for Patton to tell him he couldn’t go home.

This wasn’t the first time he’d thought about it, Patton realized. Far from it, it seemed as though Virgil had been cradling this question like an egg surrounded by downy feathers, keeping it tucked away, waiting desperately to be secure enough, safe enough to ask. To try hoping for a future again.

He was so afraid to want, and Patton couldn’t help but whine slightly, because this time, he was right to fear the worst.

They couldn’t go to Earth. Patton knew, because it was the first thing he’d talked to Roman and Logan about, that first day, as soon as Virgil had retired to his new room.

It wasn’t a matter of should or would. They couldn’t, not even if they all agreed to try, not even if they were willing to go directly against the council’s edicts. They didn’t have the equipment to get past the barricade undetected, they didn’t have the knowledge to slip between patrols, they didn’t even have the cloaking capabilities they’d need to land on an uninformed planet. They didn’t have enough funds to try and obtain any of those.

Honestly, they were barely scraping by as it was. Roman and Logan had halted their normal cargo runs to search for him, and their savings had suffered as a result. It was part of the reason they had been taking more jobs, any they could find that wouldn’t put them in the sights of any potential Human-hunters.

He’d done his best to shield Virgil from realizing just how much his presence had changed their routine, but going by the way he thought he’d have to pay them just to get back to a home he never should have been stolen from in the first place, he hadn’t been successful.

Patton glanced to the door with a half-formed desire to go get Logan, who had patiently walked Patton through every possible scenario until it sunk in that they really, truly couldn’t do it.

It wasn’t fair. Patton had chosen this life, and he could still go home, and see his family, and greet the ocean breeze. Virgil hadn’t had a choice in anything, hadn’t had the freedom that spacefaring brought so many, and now he didn’t have the option to return home, either.

“It’s not— I don’t want to leave you,” Virgil forced out, looking a little frantic. “I mean, we’re friends, right?”

He used the Ampen version of the word, the one that translated literally to ‘treasured one’, and could be used by any who had bonded closely, blood or nest-sharing aside. Patton nodded firmly, mouth clamped shut to keep from sobbing.

“Right,” Virgil continued, near-pleading, “so it’s not you, I promise, and I can find a way to pay back my debts, I know Roman wants me gone and Logan wants s-samples, and I can do that. It’s fine, it’s worth it, just… I miss home. So bad. Even the parts I used to hate.”

“I’m sorry,” Patton said in the most honorable way he had, the low, agonized call of I repent and I regret. “If we could— I promise we would, Virgil. It’s not your fault, you have no debts here. You deserve to go home.”

Virgil’s face was miserable to even witness, the way faltering hope had been crushed under the weight of his worst suspicions being confirmed. Patton reached for him automatically, his attempts to comfort his friend coming out as a soft empathetic cry instead, and that wounded sound was all it took for Virgil’s self-control to finally break.

He crumpled all at once, a breezecatcher with its tether cut, crashing to the sand below. The top of his head butted gently against Patton’s side, a mirror of the way Patton so often sought comfort from him, and he began to cry in earnest, as though releasing months of built-up misery.

Disciplined, Patton remembered with a pang of bitter sorrow, and let his Deathworlder finally weep for everything that had been taken from him.

[hanazuma-inactive]

Are you fine with top beta mreader and bottom alpha iwaizumi? Reader is model student in school and rumor tells that he is better than most alpha. Iwai who never interested about that kind of thing suddenly changed his mind when his inner beast screamed out for reader when he saw him in the library. That caught reader attention. So they have sex there, with Iwai trying hard to holding back his voice and he can only knotting at nothing when climax. After they were done, Iwai kinda light headed and Reader bridal carry him outside. I just think it will be cute 🐽

That's all 🛁

out of the ordinary (nsfw) top beta!reader x bottom alpha!iwaizumi

pronouns: he/him (FEMALE ORIENTED DNI!!)

warnings: slight degrading, omegaverse, reverse roles, knotting (not really), public sex (sex in library), slight overstimming

a/n: i can't find any,,,good iwa panels help. but this was an interesting concept especially the last part. i also love iwa with my entire life please 🧎‍♂️ sorry this took so long because it's pretty long around 1.8k words

_____

you were an exception, someone who's out of the ordinary. being born a beta, people didn't expect much from you. they had no reason to believe that someone who was a part of 90% of the world population was capable of doing anything extraordinary. however you were there to prove them wrong. ever since elementary going into highschool your grades were always at the top of the class and in some cases in the district. everyone was surprised to find out that you were only a beta instead of an alpha.

your achievements were spread all of the school board and among your classmates. most people respected you and some wanted to be you. your grades weren't the only thing you had, your looks were at least above average and nearly everyone who saw you wanted to fuck you, or get fucked by you. except for one person, iwaizumi hajime.

the spiky haired boy was never interested in this type of stuff. in fact he is the only alpha in the entire school that hasn't tried to hit on you or asked you out yet. unfortunately this just so happens to be the one person you were somewhat interested in. unlike the other betas and omegas you weren't exactly submissive. sure you were nice and friendly towards other people but in the bedroom? all you wanted was to make an alpha cry out your name and cum from your cock. it was an unrealistic fantasy due to how your society functions but you've seen it happen before and you wanted to experience it yourself.

the more iwa didn't notice you, the more frustrated you became. you tried all sorts of things to grab his attention. "helping" him with homework, which he denied many times. inviting him to hangout afterschool, also denied. and even as far as behaving unlike yourself, none of the above worked and you were quite upset about it.

until one day, when you were just walking to the gym you overheard iwa and his friend oikawa qtalking about something.

"c'mon iwa we all know you were head over heels for him when he was performing that day."

"shut up, it doesn't matter even if i do, he has enough alphas and omegas on his dick, he doesn't need another one. so what if i want to fuck him, who doesn't? you did too at one point but he turned you down almost immediately."

"jeez! calm down you freaking porcupine. all i'm saying is, next time you two are alone, maybe give it a shot instead of avoiding him. he's the first person that ever got you feeling like this and it would be too good of a chance to pass by, don't you think?"

"yah yah whatever i got it."

so the two were… talking about you?. there was no way right?! the one person you wanted attention finally gave it to you. it might not have been directly but he admitted it, and that's all you needed to know. so all the things you were doing did work after all. you were excited but you needed to keep your cool for now, and figure out a way to get you two alone. little did you know he was going to come to you all by himself without you even lifting a finger.

you strolled to the library afterschool to borrow to borrow a book your friend told you to check out that you know you won't be reading. while searching for the novel, you heard someone open the door of the empty library. it was pretty rare for anyone to be in the library except during class time so you wondered who it could've been. you peeked over the bookshelves to find a spiky haired male trying to find a book as well. it was iwa, looking for a book in the dystopia section.

this situation couldn't have been better. you and iwa were alone in a place where nobody usually comes. it was the perfect opportunity to do what you always wanted to do. you walked over to the other section to greet him.

"yo! how's it going iwaizumi?"

"it's going fine… thank you, i'm surprised to see you here though."

"oh yeah haha, just checking out a book."

iwaizumi looked away and directed his attention back to the bookshelf. you were a little upset and while thinking about something to talk about, he spoke again.

"h-hajime, is fine...by the way." iwa said while his face flashed a bright red.

hajime? his first name? we barely talked ever and now you guys are on a first name basis? you didn't mind of course, you a little surprised that's all.

"alright hajime! same goes for you too!"

he looked away again, gripping the book in his hand.

"alright, fuck it." he murmured under his breath. hajime turned around to you and pushed on onto the bookshelf behind you. his hand holding onto yours and his face red as a cherry. you were a little startled but this stuff wasn't exactly new to you so it wasn't as flustering to you as it was to him.

"uhh, hajime? y-you alright there?"

"i wanna fuck you alright?! there i said it. i'm not expecting anything because i'm the last alpha you haven't rejected. but still, i want to try. so…what do you say?"

it was all going better than expected. all the things you've done to attract iwa was finally paying off! you were excited but you needed to keep your cool before completely losing it on him.

"sure! i don't see the reason not to~ but…we are going to switch it up a little bit." you said with a smirk on your face. iwa looked confused about what you meant by switching up, but now that the person he liked agreed to have sex with him, he didn't care about what's about to happen.

you grabbed iwa's arms and pushed them behind his back as you turned him around, reversing the positions of you two.

"w-woah, what are you doing…y/n."

"i've always wanted to do this hehe, fucking an alpha and making him beg to cum as a beta, someone who is supposed to be below him in society standards. what do you say hajime? is this still the sex you were looking forward to? or are you gonna leave me here all by myself?"

there was fear and anticipation in iwa's eyes, eager to find out what happens next. as much as he wished it was the opposite way around he didn't want to lose the opportunity in his hand right now. reluctantly, he nodded and agreed, gesturing to get on with what you wanted to do.

gaining the signal to start, you aggressively pushed your lips onto iwa's, reaching into his mouth and soon intertwining your tongue with his. the other male let out stubborn whimpers as the kiss grew to be more sloppy. soon you broke it, leaving him panting for breath and a dirty smile on your face.

you licked your fingers and reached into the back of iwaizumi's pants. at first he jolted a little, not being used to his ass being touched as an alpha. you then started to move your fingers into his asshole. going deeper inside, hajime struggled with the pain that no alpha in this school will ever experience. hajime's grunts started to become moans, you put in more fingers as you found his pleasure point. massaging it and doing all the tricks you knew on it to make him feel as good as possible.

it didn't take long till a wet spot started to form on his pants and his eyes became hazy. you took out the finger and let hajime catch his breath before preparing him for the real thing.

"w-what's next…" hajime asked

"just close your eyes, i promise i'll make you feel good~"

he trusted you and shut his eyes, latching on to your shoulder. you revealed your cock and lifted iwa up so that his face would be facing you and his plump asshole would be right above cock. iwa was nervous, you could tell and that was the best part about it. gently you put your cock into his ass. it was still rather difficult even with all the preparation from earlier. iwa let out a small cry as you entered him, not used to anything so big inside him, or anything at all really.

"f-fuck that hurts…"

"i know, it'll feel good in a bit, alright? bare with me here a little. i'm gonna start moving."

you didn't even put into consideration that this was iwa's first time. you went at a moderate speed, sometimes slowing down and speeding up. iwa's hard cock leaking with precum and bouncing up and down on yours. it was such a pretty sight seeing the alpha cry pretty tears from all the pain and pleasure. of course you felt amazing too, iwa's virgin hole felt better than your hand or anything your dick had ever fucked.

iwa used one of his hands to cover his mouth. attempting to stop the people outside of the library to hear his moans.

"hajime~ people are gonna hear us if you keep being naughty like this~" you said with a cocky smile on your face.

he didn't say anything in response, barely being able to comprehend anything while getting fucked.

"c'mon...look at you, an alpha? being fucked by a beta in a library. moaning like a slut in heat, i might as well knot you while i'm at it hm?"

speaking of knots, the alpha was getting closed with nothing around his cock. nothing for him to knot. his cock enlarged in size as he reached his climax but a face of disappointment appeared because of the empty area around iwa's dick. he didn't even think it was physically possible until today looking at it right now in front of him.

hajime had his fun but you weren't done yet. right after he came you continued to fuck him and stroke his cock to overstimulate him. after you came inside you noticed that iwaizumi had already passed out from the pleasure. his own cum spilled on his stomach and his ass filled with yours. you stood still for a while, enjoying the view of the sleeping prince in front of you. to make this more fun for the both of you, you decided to carry the alpha in your arms as if he was your bride.

you got a bunch of weird stares and murmurs from the students around you but you didn't care. all the reputation that you built up could fall into shreds but you could not have cared less. now, the only thing that matters is the one person you wanted attention from gave it to you and is sleep soundly in your arms.

[narabea06]

Huntlow Oneshot bc I love them-

(A/N: Btw, the first part took place like a week or two before the Day of Unity- Also spoiler warning-)

---------

"Captain, I love you."

The rushed words were a lot for Willow to take in, especially when they came from a certain flustered blonde. Hunter exhaled a breathe he seemed to have been holding in after he sputtered the words, a small whistle sounding when he did due to his tooth gap.

Willow found herself staring at the floor as Hunter watched intently for a response, though slowly he realized he wasn't getting one. This...This was not the reaction he was hoping for... Had he messed everything up? Perhaps he never should've said anything in the first place-

Goddamnit Hunter, now she probably hates you- No! No, the Captain would never hate him...Then again, from the looks of it, it looks like he disappointed her, or just made a huge mistake.

Searching for any words to say, he quickly straightened up, looking away from Willow. "I-I'm sorry, I shouldn't have said that, especially given the situation we're in. I shouldn't have let my emotions get in the way of things, please forgive me-"

"What, no, Hunter, you're fine! I just...don't know how to respond to that," Willow said, sitting up and reaching to patting Hunter's shoulder briefly, before shrinking back. She pulled her arm back close to her chest as she started rubbing circles on her own arm in hope it would help her think clearer. After a confession like that, what was she supposed to say? 'Thank you'? 'No thank you'? 'Why?'-

Everything was so confusing.

Willow knew for awhile that Hunter at least cared or looked up to her, specifically because of the way he talked to her, him calling her 'Captain' and all. And she will admit, she cared an awful lot about him too. He took her seriously, he was always trying to be there for her and had her back, he was able to help Gus- He was a great guy.

But she had no idea that his idolization had shifted into something like this- Not that she was upset by it or anything, she just didn't see it coming. Should she have seen this coming? Did she feel the same? Ugh, this was all so confusing!

She had only had to deal with a crush once, and back then, it was way easier to handle since they just kids and it basically remained a childish puppy love type thing, but now? Now when she finally understood the full extent of what love like this was like? It was a lot more difficult.

"Look, Hunter, I've never dealt with this before... Hell, up until the past year, nobody would really talk to me, not to mention admit to-...Loving me- Nobody has really liked me like this before-"

"But why not?! You're amazing, who wouldn't like you?" Hunter said, turning around immediately looking over to her, trying to reassure her. Willow felt her cheeks go a little red at that.

Hunter has always done stuff like that, always defended her, and made sure she felt cared about, even when she was just bringing up stuff from the past, or when she wasn't even in major danger or even actually doubting herself, he always made sure she knew her worth. Usually, she thought that was just him being supportive, but now that she knew the thought that went behind it, it made it appear in a different light now..

"Well- I'm just not used to it- I guess the only time I've ever actually had or ever encountered this was-...Well, it was a very long time ago, back when I was really young and it sorta stayed as just a mutual crush, and that person ended up leaving a little bit afterwards anyway-" Willow started.

"But I won't do that, I won't leave you like that, I swear, I-" Hunter stopped himself again. "...I'm sorry, I'll stop, I shouldn't pressure you into saying or doing anything you don't want to do if you don't reciprocate the feelings."

Willow sighed, shaking her head. "No, Hunter, I just- This isn't me rejecting you...But it also isn't me saying I love you back, or me saying I want to try going out or anything, I just need some time to think." She turned to him then, shifting to actually face him on the bench they were sitting on. "I swear, I will give you an answer at one point, so please, be patient with me?"

Hunter paused, until he finally nodded, his blonde hair shifting in the wind, as Flapjack nudged his cheek from his shoulder, urging him to say something.

"I..understand, Captain."

Looking up at her, he tried to give her an awkward smile, only to find it difficult to meet her eyes, but when she gave him a bright understanding smile back, he felt his heart warm up. Maybe, he could just wait. As long as she knew his feelings, and as long as he's still able to stay by her side, whether it was as a friend or more, he would be content. She was enough, he was willing to wait for an answer.

---------

As the days past, Willow began to notice the things Hunter did more often. The way that he always made sure none of their enemies even got close enough to get to her, or the the times when she got close to him or hugged him that his face would flush, or when he immediately would move to shield her when things went wrong-

She also noticed what she did more. The way she immediately wanted to get Hunter back after she thought he was captured, or when she always ended up being the one to save him when he was in trouble. Or when she always went to Hunter first to make sure he was okay after battles.

And with each of these passing moments, she started to realize how she had began to treasure their relationship.

While Hunter's confession hadn't made her suddenly have feelings for him, it helped her open her eyes more to both his emotions, and her own. If he didn't say anything, she probably would have continued to ignore her feelings, given their situation, but now that he did, it was becoming harder and harder to ignore...

---------

"Hunter?"

The blonde jumped at the sudden voice, spinning around to face it, immediately going into a defensive stance, only to find himself face-to-face with Willow. Slowly he relaxed, standing up, calming down. "Oh- Hey Captain-"

Rubbing her eyes under her rimmed glasses, the teen reached over to the switch on the wall next to her, flooding the kitchen with the fluorescent light. Hunter flinched as the light blinded him for a second, causing him to squint to try and see the girl in front of him. Unlucky for him, the light made his bags under his eyes a lot more visible, which didn't help Willow's worry.

"What are you doing up still? It's like-" Willow glanced over to the digital clock on the counter, freezing as she tried to read it. "...2:00? That's late right?"

It had only been a week after the Day of Unity, and being in the human realm was still hard on everyone, especially on Luz who had been trying everything to getting them back so they could make sure Eda, King, and their families were still okay, and on Hunter, who had been mostly trying to keep himself sane during their time there, given the new location. They were all thankful for Camila in letting them stay though.

Though along with everyone's fear and worry about the Boiling Isles and their families, they were all still having a hard time figuring out human stuff, one of them being figuring out the time system humans created. While Gus seemed to have it memorized, it was still difficult on everyone else.

"Well, I would ask you same! What are you doing up?" Hunter countered, smoothing his yellow hoodie out. Vee and Luz had let them all borrow some clothes when they had gotten back thankfully, though it has lead to Hunter clinging to that certain hoodie for dear life. Luz referred to it as a "comfort hoodie" type scenario. Willow knew though that Hunter was just clinging onto the only things he had right now that he had control over.

"Checking on you." Willow playfully grinned, running her figures through her damp hair. In reality, she was just in the shower, and was about to head to bed assuming that Hunter was asleep since she had calmed him down enough beforehand so he could lay down, until she heard shuffling in the kitchen. Low and behold, Hunter was not able to get any sleep.

Hunter sighed, "I'm fine, just go get some rest, I'll be there later." He turned his back to Willow, reaching into a cabinet and pulling out a frying pan.

Ever since they joined the human realm, all of them tried their best to figure out what they actually liked food-wise. Camila soon learned that most of them had different foods that slowly shifted into their new safe foods, and tried her best not to limit them too much on them.

Hunter's was pancakes, mostly because Luz pointing out that flapjacks used to be what pancakes were called.

They were also the only things Hunter knew how to make on his own.

Willow sighed, before sitting at the table, watching Hunter prep the stuff for his late night snack.

The blonde paused his actions, realizing she had just moved further into the room, narrowing his eyes at her. "...Captain-"

"I'm not going to bed until you do," they responded back stubbornly, crossing their arms and raising a brow.

Hunter huffed, but turning around to continue grabbing something from the fridge. "...How many pancakes do you want?" 

Willow perked up. "Wait, no, Hunter, that's okay, you don't need to do that, I'm just doing this because I wanted to. You don't need to give me something in return-"

"And I'm doing this because I want to. So how many pancakes? Or do you just not want any?" Hunter asked again.

"...Can I have two?"

" Of course Captain."

---------

"Hunter, can I ask you a question?" the girl asked, stuffing a forkful of food into her mouth.

A muffled noise of confirmation came from Hunter as he ate as well from where she sat next to her.

They had originally been sitting at the table, until they opted to sitting in the floor of the kitchen, balancing their plates on their laps. They didn't know what it was, but for some reason, the tiled kitchen floor always just seemed much more comforting, or as Luz says, it's way more 'grounding'.

...Nobody except Amity liked that pun when she first said it.

"Why do you still call me Captain? We're not in the Demon Realm, so Im technically not the captain of the Grudgby Team anymore, and even then, you kinda stopped being part of the team after-...You know-" Willow slowly asked, trying her best to be vague about the last part, which Hunter appreciated.

Despite how much time has passed, he still regretted his actions from before when he was still the Golden Guard, especially the time that he betrayed Willow. Even when Camila asked about it, he refused to talk about it. It was getting way too difficult to confront it again and again, especially since he had already had to relive the memory briefly when the illusion stuff with Gus happened.

"...I guess it's just a force of habit? And also a show of respect, y'know?...But do you want me to stop calling you that? I will if you do!-" Hunter started, sitting up way to look over to her.

"Well...Just know that you can call me Willow if you want! Like I'm okay with you calling me Captain as well, but just now, I'm not above you Hunter."

He paused at that.

"We're equals. Nothing will change that. I'm not better than you or in charge of you, unless we're on that field and even then, we still have that mutual respect and trust with each other. Just like how you aren't better than or in charge of me." Willow looked up then, realizing the silence from Hunter, only to see him staring back at her.

"Hunter?"

They blinked, looking back at their food. It felt odd thinking of such things, thinking that even one of the only people he looks up to thinks of him as his equal. As his friend.

...Friend.

Friend.

"Hunter? Did I say something wrong?" Willow asked, seeming to panic a bit, trying to replay the words she said to make sure she didn't say anything to upset him.

"What? Oh, no, Capt- Willow, it's nothing for you to worry about-"

Hunter tried to reassure her with a strained smile, but quickly realized she didn't buy it. Instead though, he turned away again, shoving more pancakes in his mouth.

Willow sighed, scraping some whipped cream from her plate with her fork.

There had still been something on her mind even since they got here. It felt a little stupid, considering how much stuff was still going on, but ever since they started staying in the human realm, it felt a lot more...safe. It felt so much calmer here, like they were finally able to catch a break. Sure, things still weren't good for them since King and Eda were still stuck alone who knows where in the demon realm, but it felt nicer to finally relax for a second in a world where she could feel safe enough not to get worried about getting caught or killed in any second.

This world was confusing, but hey, at least it wasn't nearly as dangerous as the demon realm.

But with all this time calming down, Willow was finally able to think through things again. Things like the confession Hunter gave her almost a month ago...

She sighed. It was best to say it now rather than never...

"Hunter?"

"One sec-" They started to stand up, reaching to grab Willow's empty plate from her to stack on top of his so he could go wash them off, only for Willow to grab the sleeve of his hoodie instead. Hunter froze immediately at the gesture, looking from her hand to her once before he blushed a little. "Yes? What's wrong?"

Willow smiled at him with her kind eyes, and Hunter put his place on the counter above them before sitting back down next to her with his knees to his chest. She finally let go of his arm then, placed the plate on the ground next to her, and took a deep breath.

"I took I have my answer now."

---------

Amity yawned as she walked through the house with Luz clung to her arm. The two were chatting quietly, though Luz ran most of the conversation due to her seemingly having neverending energy at this point despite her both staying up late and waking up early to brainstorm ideas to figure out a way back. (Though Amity was 99% sure she's just been drinking caffeine to stay up.)

It was about 8 AM when she felt Luz start to get up, and decided that this time, she'd get up as well to make sure Luz didn't overwork herself and to see if she was right about the caffeine (She found out later that she was-)

She tried her best to pay attention to everything her girlfriend was saying, but found herself distracted when they entered the kitchen. Luz didn't seem to see it at first though until Amity elbowed her gently.

Luz stopped talking for a second giving her pink haired partner a confused look. "Hermosa, what's wrong-"

She stopped abruptly when she saw what the girl was looking at though, and felt a grin plaster across her face.

On the floor of the kitchen, Willow and Hunter were sitting with their knees to their chests, curled up next to each other. They were both leaning on each other, fast asleep. But the main thing that caught their attention was the that their hands were interlocked.

Luz covered their mouth and whispered to Amity, "Maybe we should let them sleep."

Amity nodded, and the two walked out, leaving their two sleeping friends.

[golden-barnes]

Plum tarts and red carnations

Pairing: Florist! Bucky Barnes x F! Reader

Summary: Bucky is enamored with one of the employees of the bakery in front of his store.

Category: Fluff

Warning:s some self-doubting thoughts and cursing .

Word count: 2.5k

Author’s note: I have been thinking about this since that one anon and thank you @buckycuddlebuddy because you helped to inspire me further with this. Also think of Bucky as Beefy because I'm a softy for a gentle giant. Comment and reblog pls and thank you!

“Damn Jerry. You’ve been growing nicely. A little bit more, and you will be ready to find a new home, bud.” Bucky whispered to the little sprout he was watering. Bucky loved his morning routine.

Before opening up his shop, he would check on his nursery. Water the plants in his greenhouse, checking them to see how they have grown. He liked talking to them; they never judged him or ignored him. He even named them. Sam would help, too, though he treated it more as a joke.

After checking on the nursery, he would focus on making bouquets and arrangements for the store. Nobody knew he was the one who made those beautiful arrangements, and he liked it.

It was like therapy for him. Matching the flowers and creating bouquets with meaning was a talent Bucky didn’t know he had. By this point, the shop was opened and ready for business.

While preparing a rose bouquet, he saw a woman in an apron running out of the new coffee shop from the table next to the cash register. Oh shit, she’s pretty. He thought. He kept staring at her and forgot the fresh roses next to him, grabbed one carelessly.

“Fuck.” He accidentally pricked his finger with a thorn. He applied pressure to his wounded finger.

“Oh, are you okay, sir?” The pretty woman from the bakery asked. Bucky didn’t notice her entering the shop, and now she was here. Looking disheveled but incredibly beautiful.

“Yeah, happens all the time. What can I help you with?” He said, trying to sound as composed as possible. He could hear Sam’s voice in his head. “Play it cool, Buck.”The woman let out a sigh.

“I’m co-owner of the coffee shop, and it’s our opening day. I was encharged of the decorations, and I ordered some flowers from this other place, but when they got here, they were horrible. Like really bad. And oh god, I’m rambling, but I need a brand new arrangement.” She said all in one breath. Bucky had to fight a smile from appearing. Adorable.

“It’s okay. What colors did you want?” Bucky asked. The woman smiled at him.

“We wanted white and purples. Something simple. But honestly, I know nothing of flowers. I don’t understand why Wanda put me up with this? Now we are late, and I still have to finish decorating the cupcakes.” She explained while Bucky started to search for the flowers in his shop.

“Lilacs, with white peonies and lavender roses, would make a nice bouquet. How does that sound?” Bucky showed her the flowers he was referring to. The woman gasped.

“Oh, they are so pretty! You, sir, are a genius.” She gushed, still looking at the flowers. Bucky felt his cheeks getting red from receiving praise.

“I can bring it to you,” Buckywhispered, afraid that she might not like that idea. “You know, because you still have some stuff to finish, so you can do it, and I’ll bring it to you in less than 10 minutes.” She looked at him and went to hug him. Bucky tensed, not expecting the hug, but soon relaxed.

“You are literally my hero. Just ask for Y/N,” She said, walking towards the exit. “Wait, what’s your name?” She added, opening the door to leave.

“Bucky.” Y/N smiled at him. “See you later, Bucky.”

Bucky has never worked on an arrangement as hard as this one. He was already meticulous, but he really wanted to impress Y/N. Can you blame him? The pretty girl needed his help, and he wanted her to be happy. He even added some baby’s breath and this new white ribbon that had come in for weddings. He was very proud of it but also very nervous.

With a deep breath, Bucky entered the coffee shop. A brunette was at the door, cleaning the tables.

“Sorry, Sir. We are still aren’t open.” She said. Bucky gulped.

“Uhm. I’m looking for Y/N.” He told her; she looked at the flowers in his hands and understood. She yelled for Y/N, who came out of the kitchen with icing on her check, giving him the brightest smile.

“Hey, Bucky! That’s beautiful! How did you make such a pretty arrangement in less than 20 minutes?” She grabbed the vase out of his hands and set it on the counter. Bucky blushed and scratched his neck, shying away.

“It’s nothing.. I’m just happy you liked it.”

“How much do I owe you?” She asked. Bucky put his hands up.

“Oh, it’s on the house. Don’t worry. Call it a welcome gift.” He explained; Y/N jumped and gave him another hug. This time Bucky wrapped his arms around her.

“You are the nicest person on this fucking planet. I have to make it up to you. What’s your favorite fruit?” She pulled away from him and looked at Bucky in the eye. Bucky felt his breath hitch, and his palms get sweaty.

“I-I like plums.” He stuttered. She gave him a big smile and handed him a cookie.

“Hmm, I can make something with that.” She winked at him.

-

“I still haven’t named you, but honestly, I don’t know. You look like a Janelle, but also, I feel like that doesn’t fit.” Bucky said to the new cactus that arrived yesterday, in the afternoon.

“I think she looks like a Lucille.” Bucky turned around and saw Y/N with a box in hand.

“Oh, hi.” He felt embarrassed. She had heard him talk to his plants. Not even Steve had seen that. It was his private thing.

“She’s cute. What type of cactus is it?” She looked at it, not looking weirded out or anything.

“It’s called a Bishop’s cap. They grow to be very pretty and sprout a yellow flower. Not very popular in the shop, but there’s this new cactus crazy going on, and I thought to stock up.” Bucky explained, putting the cactus down next to the others.

“Do you name all your plants?” Bucky gulped and turned around to face her.

“Yeah, and talk to them too.” Bucky fought the urge to punch himself. Why would he say that? Fuck, now she is gonna think he is a fucking weirdo.

Much to his surprise, she smiled at him. She suddenly remembered the box she brought and opened it.

“For saving me yesterday, I made you a plum tart.” She opened it and pulled out the tart. Bucky felt his heart beating faster, and his hands get clammy.

“You didn’t have to.” “Ah! I beg to differ. Everyone that walked into our shop loved the flowers. They were really something. Like I couldn’t stop looking at them. So I had to show you my gratitude the only way I know how. With treats.”

“I couldn’t possibly eat that all alone. Want to share?” Bucky asked, giving her puppy eyes so she wouldn’t say no.

“You drive a hard bargain, Bucky. Has anyone ever told you can get away with murder with those eyes?” Y/N joked.

“I think my grandma’ probably said it. I have some silverware in the shop’s kitchen. When you have to be at your shop?” Bucky said, signaling her to follow him.

“I’m on break—perks of being the boss.” She explained while Bucky grabbed a few paper plates, forks, and a knife. She grabbed the knife and cut a big piece, and gave it to Bucky. Then she cut a piece for herself.

Bucky took a bite and accidentally let out a moan.

“I take it; you like it.” She winked at Bucky. He diverted his gaze from her. Why the fuck did I do that? Bucky screamed internally.

“It’s delicious. I can see why your shop has been packed since yesterday. Reminds me of my ma’s.” Bucky admitted.

“I’m glad, but I can’t take all the credit. You should see the coffee mixes Wanda came up with. They are the real star.” Bucky smiled at her. Nice and pretty… She let out a cough.

“How did you get really good with plants? Like sorry for the personal question, but you have a talent.” She inquired.

“Well, uhm. After getting discharged, my friend Sam suggested that I take classes to handle stress and PTSD. One of the classes was gardening, and I just found it so calming. So I started taking more courses and learning ‘till I decided to start my own business. I don’t think I could ever work anywhere else.” Bucky noticed her staring at him. “What?” He said, smiling awkwardly at her.

“Nothing. Just thinking about how you are the nicest man I’ve ever meet.” She said nonchalantly. Bucky chuckled.

“It’s nothing major. I just found my calling.” Bucky stated.

“I feel the same. I baked a lot in college, and then suddenly I was like fuck, this is what I want to do for the rest of my life.” She recalled. Her eyes glowed under the light of the kitchen.

“I felt the same way when I started this shop.” Bucky admitted, she bit back a smile.

“By the way, I like the name—Howling’s flowers. Oh, and how pretty this store is, it looks like I walked in a magical forest.” She complimented.

“I- thanks. I named my store after my squad and the decor well; that’s kind of an embarrassing story.” Bucky chuckled nervously. She rolled her eyes.

“Oh, please. I own a coffee shop named Magic café, and all of our items are named after magical things. I am the last person to judge.” Bucky bit his lip nervously while listening to her.

“I based it on The Hobbit. It was my favorite book when I was younger, and I just couldn’t imagine decoring this store anyway else.” Y/N looked at him with an open mouth.

“Okay, are you government android? Because you are friendly, great with plants and well-read. You are too good to be true.” She laughed. Bucky needs to find a way to blush less in her presence because this is like the fourth or fifth time it has happened.

They finished eating their pieces of tart and talking for a while. Y/N decided to go back to the shop, not realizing how much time she spent there. Before leaving, Bucky gave her some more lavender roses.

“Oh, Bucky, you don’t have to.” She protested.

“It’s just to add to the arrangement. I feel like it was missing a few more roses. You’ll be doing me a favor.” He assured. She grabbed the flowers and smelt them before smiling and giving him a small thanks.

Little did she know that lavender Roses mean love at first sight.

They played that little game for weeks, almost 2 months. Y/N would take her lunch break at Bucky’s shop. Feed him some food and pastries that she was experimenting with, and he would give her flowers.

“To put on the counter. Your store deserves fresh flowers every day.” Bucky claimed. But in actuality, all the flowers meant something. The white camellias? He was telling her that he admired her. The amaryllis? That he found you beautiful. The white and purple stocks? A silent plea for bonds of affection from your part. But he couldn’t bring himself to say these things out loud.

Speaking to Y/N in flowers was much easier. Maybe because she didn’t know and couldn’t reject him.

“Bucky, you gotta tell her, man.” Steve would try to reason with him. “She likes you; you like her. Just tell her that you like her or ask her out on a date.”

“You don’t get it, Steve.” Bucky would argue, which led to an entire discussion on how Bucky is being a coward that ended with him telling Steve and Sam to fuck off.

But they were right; it was simple. She has been an absolute doll with him. She doesn’t mind hearing his rants about the new book he read and helped him water his plants. She even bought waterproof labels to put their names on their planters. She even asked (more like demanded) Bucky to send her the pictures of every bouquet and arrangement he made. She loved seen his creations.

And he loved being her test subject. She would bring him new pastries to try. He was her official taste tester. Anything new in the store, Bucky had already tried it in every one of its variations. Y/N would speak to him of all of her special interests and all of her new hobbies. He had even met all her friends, and they loved him.

So why was this so difficult? Bucky groaned while arranging the flowers at the front of the shop.

“What’s got you all groaning and gloomy, Bucky-bear?” Y/N asked him. She looked radiant in her work clothes. Ugh, Bucky had it bad.

“Nothing, j-just thinking.” He nervously replied.

“Don’t overthink. You might over-heat your brain, bubs.” She joked, entering Bucky’s shop. And like the hopeless romantic he is, he followed.

“Soooooooo I have been trying out this new pasta recipe, and you are the only one I trust to give me the truth.” She said, opening the Tupperware she brought. Bucky’s heart fluttered at her words. He felt light-headed; maybe that’s why he couldn’t stop himself from opening his mouth.

“I like you.” He blurted out. He slapped his hand over his mouth. Y/N turned to him, widen eyes, and mouth gaped.

“Bucky, do you mean that? Because if you are playing with me, I will fight you with this.” She warned Bucky, threatening with a spoon.

“I like you a lot. Actually love you. I- that’s what those flowers meant.” Bucky explained. Y/N put down the spoon.

“What flowers?” She asked, in the softest tone he has ever heard her speak in. Bucky turned his gaze to the floor, embarrassed that this was his confession.

“All of them. They all meant love in one form or the other.” He admitted. Y/N stood in front of him and put her hand on his cheek. He felt his heart do backflips.

“What flower means I’m in love with you, Bucky?” She asked, caressing his cheek.

“Maybe red carnations.” He joked, leaning into her touch.

“I’ll ask this handsome florist with a heart of gold to make me a bouquet to give you.” Bucky chuckled while she let out a little giggle.

“I would love a bouquet, but I would much rather have a plum tart from the sexy baker on the store out front.” Y/N hummed.

“I think I can make that happen.” She said, pulling him closer. “Can I kiss you, Bucky?” She asked; Bucky could only nod.

She grabbed his face and pressed her lips against his. Bucky wrapped his arms around her, pulling her even closer, molding her body against him. Their lips gliding over each other smoothly, as if they were made for each other.

They pulled away to take a breath, and they both had the same dopey smile. Tarts and carnations. Who knew they mixed so well?

[mindofasupernova]

Mr. Sandman

Kaz Brekker x reader

Inspired by the song "Mr. Sandman" from SYML.

Description: Mr. Sandman, bring me a dream. A beautiful illusion of when they were younger, when things were good. A dream where Kaz hadn't shattered her heart into a million pieces, one where Kaz still cared.

Warnings: angst

Mr. Sandman, bring me a dream.

A beautiful illusion of when they were younger, when it was just the two of them against the world.

Y/N met Kaz Brekker before he earned the name "Dirtyhands" when he was still inexperienced, seeking a way to make fame in the criminal underworld.

Their introduction wasn't a conventional one, the first time he'd laid eyes upon Y/N, Kaz was surveilling a new bank's vault he wanted to crack. Back at the time, Kaz Brekker was just beginning to refine his lock picking abilities, he was more careful, taking longer at figuring out the ways around safe.

Kaz Brekker was attentively watching a vault demonstration the bank was giving in hopes of acquiring new wealthy customers when his bitter coffee eyes landed on Y/N.

She was leaning against a door that led to the bank's depository, eyes closed as if straining to hear the sounds on the other side. A frown upon her face, concentrating, and a few minutes before an employee opened the door she was leaning on, she pushed herself out of the way and left the bank.

The next day, news had spread around the Barrel like wildfire that someone had stolen the diamonds that resided in the new safe that belonged to the bank's depository. That was no coincidence, somehow Y/N had done it. Kaz dedicated his whole afternoon tracking the girl down until he had found her working as a dishwasher in a popular restaurant.

"How did you do it? How did you manage to open the safe?"

Y/N stared back at Kaz, terrified eyes fearing someone might overhear them. Y/N tried to lie about it but he could see straight through them.

"I like memorizing things. I remembered the sounds, every click the locks gave when the vault was being opened." Y/N answered reluctantly

"What kind of things do you like to memorize?" the raven-haired boy prompted.

"Anything that leaves good money."

"I have a job offer for you. "

And just like that, the promise of a very odd friendship began.

____________

Make him the cutest that I've ever seen, give him two lips like roses and clover. Then tell him that his lonesome nights are over.

The truth was that Kaz Brekker wasn't gentle in any way. He was selfish, logically cold, and unafraid of danger if it was for the right price.

Their friendship had bloomed in the blood-stained streets, finding solace in each other to survive the hungry beast that was Ketterdam.

Y/N's memory had proven useful, she was Kaz's little library of secrets. Her mind was the vault that safely guarded all types of information; transactions, blueprints, deals that Kaz couldn't risk to curious eyes. Every word was imprinted into Y/N's mind.

Y/N had lied when she said she only memorized things that brought money. She remembered all of Kaz's little ticks: The way he ran his hand through his hair when he was tired, the grip that tightened on his cane when stressed, the joyous glint in his eyes after a successful job, the almost imperceptible tug of his lips during their late-night talks and the shape of his lips when he proudly explained his plans to her.

Y/N knew it was foolish to fall for someone like Kaz, but her heart couldn't stop racing every time they talked. Couldn't stop her gaze searching for him amongst a crowd, the way her breath hitched every time Kaz looked out for her. It was a childish wish and yet, sometimes she could have sworn Kaz cared deeply for her too.

__________

Sandman, I'm so alone, don't have nobody to call my own.

Where had it all gone wrong? What had she done to Kaz for him to shatter her heart the way he did?

One moment she was getting ready to go on a heist, it was supposed to be easy, gather intel, and escape before anyone knew they had been there. It didn't end well.

Y/N had been given the task to distract their target's bodyguards, pretend to be an injured scared girl in need of assistance, but someone had told them the Dregs would be there. A guard had grabbed her harshly and forced her to give away her crew's location, but when she refused he'd beaten her unconscious.

The next morning she had woken up at the Slat, everyone was worried she might have not woken up. However, as soon as she was healed, Kaz called her to his office.

"Why?" Y/N's broken words were met with silence.

"Have I ever failed you? Have I not done everything you asked for?!" she questioned, tears threatening to fall. "Why are you kicking me out?! This is my home too, my family!"

"You won't have to worry about searching for a place to stay. I've already made arrangements, a small apartment is waiting for you." Kaz spoke, expression unreadable.

Y/N wanted to throttle Kaz, shake him up and demand a reason for his sudden decision. He hadn't even visited when she was injured and now he was kicking her out. He had no right, no right to strip away her found family. Had all those night talks meant nothing to him? Were all those small gestures and tiny smiles a ruse?

"You can't do this! I have all your secrets! I have stood by your side longer than anyone", Y/N screamed at Kaz, eyes begging him to say something. To tell her to stay, to tell her he cared.

She never heard those words instead she received a bitter response that mercilessly ripped her heart out. "Do not think that just because I have kept you around for this long you're irreplaceable."

This time Y/N didn't suppress the tears, silently gliding down her cheeks when she walked out of Kaz's office and away from the Slat.

____________

Please turn on your magic beam, Mr. Sandman, bring me a dream.

A beautiful dream where she wasn't tied to a chair, broken ribs, and blood pouring from a large gauge in her stomach. The Dime Lions had captured her, knowing full well she was one of Kaz's most trusted allies, they decided to torture her until she spilled Brekker's secrets. But Y/N wasn't a traitor and even though Kaz had crushed her heart, she still loved him and would rather die than betray him.

Eyes barely open, black spots clouding her vision, she was fading away. Oh, how she wished that Kaz would come to save her, take her back to the Slat, tell her he was sorry and that he needed her by his side. But dreams were for children, Kaz wouldn't come because he simply did not care, because she was replaceable.

She wanted a dream, one where the punches thrown at her were tender glances. One where the sounds of bones breaking were quiet caring words she'd shared with Kaz once upon a time. Where the coppery taste of blood staining her tongue was the one of hot chocolate she and Kaz used to drink in his office.

Please, bring her a marvelous dream, back where things were good. A dream when Kaz still cared for her. One where he loved her.

Mr. Sandman, please bring me a dream.

@getawayfrommewerewolf, @princessleah129, @rika90, @lady1505

[multiplefandomsblog]

Makoto NSFW head-canons

request; Makoto NSFW headcanons?? nobody wants to lewd the poor boy and it sucks bc I simp hard for him

warnings; i tried to make the reader as gender neutral as possible, begging, pegging, kinda aural kink? Punishments, pet-play, dress up, skirts, reader either has a dick or a strap, depends how you want to see it, anal, switch!makoto, mention of collars, hickeys, light choking, just your regular ol’ basic sex, praise kink, gender neutral pronouns for reader.

note; don’t worry anon, i share a mutual simpery for Makoto as well, i love the baby boy sm <3 i tried making makoto a switch as to be more exclusive for everyone but as you can see, i am biased :’)

◊ I head-canon Makoto to be a switch, but more leaning on the sub side. If you ever said you wanted to top, he wouldn’t know what you meant, but would still let you. When you explained it to him however, he definitely got a bit defensive. “I-I can top!” Then proceed to try and make out with you roughly, only to very shyly and lightly kiss you, just disproving his point.

◊ When Makoto tops, he’s very awkward but very gentle with you, he’s always asking if you’re alright and if you want to stop. He’s afraid to make you uncomfortable; that’s something he never wants you to experience from him.

◊ He’s pretty slow, and won’t pick up the pace unless you asked him to- well more like beg. Not because he wants you to beg, but because he’s afraid you’re just saying that for his benefit. So you really have to sob for him if you want him to go faster; it sounds sadistic, but Makoto’s true intention is to make sure you really want it before he gives it to you. Like I said earlier, he’s very afraid of hurting you.

◊ When Makoto fucks you, he’s always whispering in your ear praises and reassurances, he loves comfort sex- whether it’s he whom is receiving it or you, he just loves it. “S/o, it’s f-feels so good-! Please, s/o!”

◊ I think he’s definitely the type to whine a lot during sex, most of his barely comprehendible mutters, your name or countless praises he repeats over and over. I head-canon he’s the type to say his partner’s name a ton, as he’s being fucked or the other way around. 

◊^^ Even though he can be very loud, he tries to keep his moans quiet by clamping his mouth shut(he has a reputation as the ultimate hope!! >:0), the small whines that erupt in his throat betraying him. I think he’d be kind of shy of his moans- which wouldn’t make sense at all, because when I tell you,, His moans are incredibly adorable and pitchy, he literally screams like a hentai star; point is, it’s so cute and please make sure he doesn’t cover them up.

◊ If you ever felt a bit insecure, or were just having a bad day, he won’t pressure you but he’d kiss you gently if you asked for some physical comfort. Eventually it leads to sex, the praises he whispers in you ears turning you on(downright adorable), unless, of course, you tell him you’re not in the mood; then he’ll immediately stop and cuddle you instead.

◊ Though he does start off pretty slow and gentle, but eventually gets a bit desperate and starts moving faster unintentionally. He’s already too immersed in it before he could even think about slowing down. Though, he still has some self-control; he doesn’t go that fast.

◊ Now then, Makoto as a bottom :)

◊ If you ever wanted to peg him, or just try out butt sex(with him receiving), he would deny at first, but then as days pass, the thought of being pegged was all he could think of. Eventually he brings it back up, and very, very shyly(and awkwardly) asks if maybe… you could fuck his ass? owo(im sorry-)

◊ A scenario I can very vividly imagine is- You know, I’ll just type it out.

You pounded into Makoto’s hole that was barely able to take your size, taking him missionary style. His legs are widely spread, shaking from the force of your thrusts and how close he was. As you hit his prostate, he brings his hands up to his mouth, muffling screams of your name he couldn’t hold in. 

As Makoto arched his back, he bared his neck to you, giving you access to hold onto his pretty neck. You brought his head back up towards yours to kiss him, hips unrelentingly hitting his sweet spot each time. His whole body was quaking, eyes barely able to look at you properly as you kissed him. He tried kissing back, you could feel it, but he was too busy trying to stay quiet- Catching his bottom lip in between your teeth, you tugged at it lightly, releasing the moans and sobs he tried so hard to keep in. 

You could hear the adorable pleas of your name as you continued to thrust into him until he saw stars. “S-s/o! Pl-please don’t stop, I’m gonna-!” And not only does this boy have the cutest moans, he also has the cutest expressions(it’s not fucking fair-), his nose scrunches up as he gets closer, and you could see his entire face melt into pleasure, mouth wide open and not even trying to hide the moans of your name.

“S/oooooo!” He’d bring his hands up to cover his face when he cums, not wanting you to see his fucked out face; so always make sure to have his hands pinned down so he doesn’t even get the chance to hide it.

◊ He’s pretty vanilla when it comes to kinks- LMFAO YOU THOUGHT

◊ No, he only acts vanilla, as if he doesn’t search online for collars he wants you to buy for him. If you ever found out about the pet-play fantasies he has, wow, he would lose it. He would get extremely embarrassed, but kind of eager at the same time- He hopes that now you know, you might actually take advantage of his kink? I mean, only if you want- :eyes:

◊ A thing I can see Makoto doing is buying a maid’s costume, or just a slutty cat costume(all pink because it’s his colour, jus saying-), and waiting for you to come back home as he sits on his knees in front of the door. 

◊ When you finally come back, he doesn’t say anything, no, he just stares at you with those innocent eyes that held a lust only you knew of. As you shrug off your jacket, you get ready to take your adorable boyfriend, a smirk adorning your face as an excited grin on his.

◊ He secretly really likes wearing pink frilly skirts, especially wearing them when he’s bouncing on your lap, your length hitting the deepest parts of him as he clings desperately onto you.

◊ But yeah, he gets all shy(although he doesn’t deny it), and probably apologizes for thinking such filthy things, only for you to take that as an excuse for punishment.

◊ I don’t think Makoto would ever be a brat however; so punishment doesn’t come often as he’s always good- Except for the times he tries to cover up his moans, in which you lightly slap his thighs, causing him to whimper even louder <3

◊ I think Makoto would probably really like hickeys, I just feel like he enjoys the feeling of looking at the memories of yesterday night littered all over his usual pale skin, now covered in mauve. It thrills him to know that under his sweater, lies a clutter of hickeys leading up from his thighs to his chest, all from you.

[dreamwritesimagines]

Twisted 14 - Sinking Deeper [Spencer Reid x Reader]

A.N.: Thank you so much for your wonderful support my loves! Here’s the next chapter, I hope you will like it as well, and please let me know what you think of it! ❤❤ Ily, kisses! ❤❤❤ 

Ps: Special thanks to Bea for helping me!

Series Masterlist

Warnings: Murder, serial killers, violence, manipulation, mentions of sex, drinking, smoking.

Word Count: 4180

Summary: Not every night is for sleeping.

All things considered, you were sure that you were supposed to be more stressed out than you were right now. The FBI still had nothing on the copycat killer that had sent you flowers, or any of the others that were running wild all over the country. BAU was working nonstop because there was more and more pressure coming from the supervisors and higher ups, and Spencer had told you something about the profile evolving but hadn’t gotten into details.

Not that you would ever ask him to, what you heard was more than enough.

Despite all that, whenever you were with him, you managed to feel almost…peaceful. It was so unfamiliar to you that it had taken you a moment to acknowledge what it was.

Happiness. Pure happiness, enough to get rid of the mind-numbing panic and worries about the future.

Or, as your sister had so eloquently put it, you were so, so screwed.

You took a sip of your mimosa, texting Spencer under the table, barely aware of the conversation taking place but you had to look up when you heard your name being called.

“Would you want to, Y/N?” your mother asked and you frowned.

“Hm?” you asked, your eyes stopping on Lily playing with her dolls by the corner of the huge living room before you looked at Mina and Kenzie, “Sorry, what were we talking about?”

“There’s this opera—“

“Nope,” you shook your head fervently, “No way. It’s Mina’s turn.”

Mina let out a whine, “I hate you so much right now.”

“She has a point,” your mother pointed at Mina, “Your sister was the one who came to the charity ball, you can come to this one.”

Mina heaved a sigh while Kenzie reached out to hold her hand.

“Babe come on, it could be fun.”

“Exactly!” your mother said, “Thank you, Kenzie. Besides, Nolan is coming as well, so we will be two couples there. Y/N, of course if you want you can bring Spencer—“

“I’m not exaggerating when I say I’d rather spend an hour in my serial killer father’s cell with Spencer.”

Your mother rolled her eyes and Mina tilted her head.

“Nolan Yates is coming too?” she asked, pinching the bridge of her nose, “I’m spending a whole night with the boss of my boss?”

“You two should get to know each other!” Your mother said, “Besides, there’s no harm in telling your bosses that you should become a partner already—“

“Mom,” Mina cut her off, “We talked about this. I will earn that position by myself, not because of anyone’s influence. Including yours.”

Your mother sipped her drink, “It’s as if you like struggling, Mina.”

Kenzie looked between them and smiled brightly, trying to diffuse the situation. “I’m actually pretty curious about him,” she said, “Since you’re a couple now, I just need to see what kind of a person he is.”

“There’s nothing to see, babe.” Mina murmured, “The guy looks like he spends millions alone on his beard care and wears bowties to bed.”

“Yeah but bowties are cool,” you grinned and a silence fell upon the table.

“I will get back to you sleeping with my boss’ boss in a minute mom but—“ Mina cleared her throat and turned to you, “I’m sorry, was that a Doctor Who reference?”

“Yeah,” you nodded, “I started watching it because Spencer likes it so much. It’s actually pretty fun, he said we could go to Sonic-Con next year if I want.”

“Comic-Con.” Kenzie corrected you helpfully and Mina blinked a couple of times.

“Jesus Christ.”

“I don’t get it,” Kenzie said, “I told you to watch it with me and you said, and I quote It has like one billion episodes Kenz, I don’t have time for that.”

Mina stole a look at Lily to make sure she couldn’t hear you before she turned to Kenzie, “Yeah, the difference is that you weren’t dicking her down.”

“Nobody is dicking me down!” you whispered, and your mother gasped, putting her mimosa glass down.

“Girls, not at the breakfast table!” she insisted, “Not that this kind of language is acceptable anywhere…”

“Yeah Mina, leave her alone,” Kenzie said, “I think it’s sweet.”

“What’s next? You will want to get a doctorate as well because he likes them so much?”

“That wouldn’t be so bad,” your mother mused out loud, “Y/N, I know the lovely dean of—“

“No!” you pointed at them, “No to both of you. And thank you Kenzie.”

Before your mother could say anything, Lily ran to you to climb into your lap.

“Hi there bug.”

“Can we play after brunch?” she looked up at you, making you smile at her before you pinched her chubby cheek, making her giggle.

“Of course,” you said, “Dibs on green unicorn.”

“I like pink better,” she nicked a piece of cheese from your plate, “Are you talking about your prince?”

Mina smiled into her glass, “Something like that sweetheart.”

“Lily, why don’t you ask auntie what you asked me the other day?” Kenzie told her and Lily nodded fervently.

“Can I wear pink on your wedding?”

“Whoa-“ you cleared your throat, “Lily, baby, there’s no wedding.”

Kenzie and your mother grinned at each other and turned to you and Lily but she looked as if she was confused.

“But if he’s your prince…” she trailed off and Kenzie cleared her throat.

“I would like to come up with a tamer version of that question,” she said, “When do we get to meet him?”

“Mom and Mina already have,” you said but your mother shook her head.

“That doesn’t count.”

“Because you treated him like you were going to hire him?”

“Oh you did the same to him as well?” Kenzie asked your mother, “I thought Mina would have a heart attack when you did that to me.”

“I honestly thought you would break up with me after that.”

You fixed the huge bow on top of Lily’s hair while she sat still in your lap, listening to the conversation.

“How about dinner?” your mother said, “It’d help us to get to know him better.”

“Nope,” you shook your head, “It’s too early.”

“Oh come on Y/N!”

“I will introduce him to you guys when I’m sure you can behave.”

“He has spent hours with dad, you do realize that?” Mina asked with a small laugh, “You think he behaves? The guy is a—“

“Mina.” Kenzie nodded at Lily and Mina stopped herself immediately but Lily had already heard it.

“I thought your dad was a bad man, mommy.”

“He is, baby,” she nodded, “That’s why he’s far away, remember?”

“Then why is auntie Y/N’s prince talking to him?”

“Because he catches bad people, bug.”

Lily gasped and looked up at you, her eyes shining with excitement, “Like a superhero?!”

“Mm hm, like a superhero,” you grinned at her and she fidgeted in your lap.

“When will I meet him?”

“Yeah Y/N, when will we meet him?” Kenzie batted her lashes and you pointed at her.

“That’s evil, you know that right?” you asked, ignoring Mina’s laughter, “Low blow.”

                                                 ***

Towards the evening, right before it was time to meet Spencer he had texted you, saying that they would be doing overtime at work. You were bummed, but you still texted back to tell him it was alright, that you would be going home and he could drop by whenever he was done.

After having dinner, you went to the couch with a bottle of wine and turned your laptop on to take a look at the files your assistant had sent you. Campbell wedding was almost done, Vincent had sent you a couple of new ideas to add into the theme, and you had to email back two pastry shops to confirm the wedding cake orders.

You were so lost in work that you had barely realized downing the half of the bottle and it was only when your phone started buzzing on the coffee table that you looked away from the screen of the laptop.

“Hi Lincoln,” you answered the phone, still typing your replies to your assistant and he took a deep breath.

“Hey,” he said, “Are you watching it?”

“Watching what?”

“TV. They’re talking about the copycat killers.”

“What?” you grabbed the remote to turn on the TV and of course, the first TV channel you found was already covering the story.

“The FBI has confirmed that the body that was found dead earlier today belonged to one of the copycat killers that has been—“

“What the fuck?” you murmured, keeping your eyes on the screen and he cleared his throat.

“Yeah,” he said, “I know it’s creepy but I mean…I don’t know, isn’t that a good thing?”

“Someone killed one of the copycat killers?” you asked, “That makes no sense at all.”

“Do you think it’s the same one?” he asked, “From the charity ball?”

“I don’t know,” you muttered, “Jesus Christ.”

“Are you okay?” he asked, “I didn’t know if I should call, but…”

“No no, I’m glad you did.” You muted the TV, then filled your glass again, “What’re you doing?”

“Just leaving work,” he said and you raised your brows.

“Linc, it’s eleven p.m.”

“I had to attend a meeting overseas.”

“Workaholic.”

“I prefer the term hard working,” he chuckled, “How about you? You weren’t sleeping, right?”

“Nah, I was waiting for my boyfriend,” you said, making him pause for a moment, “And checking client files. And drinking.”

“You’re lucky you can deal with your job while drinking, these sharks would pounce on me if they ever saw me like that.”

You took a look at the TV and typed in the copycat killer’s name into the search bar, sipping your wine.

“You’re being safe, right?” he asked you, “I haven’t heard from you for like a week or so, you’re alright?”

You pressed your lips together, trying to decide whether to tell him about the flowers or not, but in the end you decided not to.

“Family drama,” you said, “I’ve been running everywhere, and what with work and everything…Sorry about that.”

“Don’t be silly,” he chuckled, “Just wanted to make sure you were alright, that’s all.”

“I’m alright—“ you started but then looked over your shoulder when you heard the doorbell ring, “Gotta go. I’ll call you tomorrow?”

“Sure thing, see you,” he said and hung up, so you jumped over the couch to rush to the door before you opened it to see Spencer standing there.

“Hey,” you smiled at him, standing on your tiptoes to kiss him, “Long day?”

He nodded silently and wrapped his arms around you, pressing you closer to inhale your scent.

“Hi,” he muttered into your hair, “Yeah. Long day.”

“I have wine?” you said as you pulled back, and closed the door after he stepped in, “I also have a bathtub even you could lose yourself in.”

“It’s fine, don’t worry,” he said and hesitated for a moment, “On second thought, do you have coffee?”

“Are you sure you want to drink coffee at eleven at night?”

“I still have some reports to go over,” he said, stepping into the living room while you put the coffee on and his eyes stopped on the huge screen that was still giving details about the copycat killer.

“You saw that huh?”

“Mm hm,” you watched him as he dropped his satchel and you went to sit down next to him on the couch. “I was checking the other news. That’s why you had to work overtime?”

He rubbed at his eyes and ran a hand through his fluffy hair as if it would help, “We thought the profile was changing but this whole thing just proves someone is trying to keep it stable.”

You pulled your brows together, “What?”

“The victimology didn’t match with the last two victims, and now one of the copycats ended up dead, probably the one who went rogue.”

“How did it not match?” you blinked a couple of times, “They all left a flower in the crime scene, no?”

“Well yeah, but the rest—“ he stopped for a moment, staring at you, “You never actually checked his victimology?”

“I never watched any of those interviews he gave after he was imprisoned, if that’s what you’re asking.”

“Yeah, and those interviews are the reason why we still don’t have a specific suspect because everyone knows everything about him, and most of your family life,” he heaved a sigh, “But you know what his victims had in common?”

“They all bled out while he watched,” you crossed your arms, leaning back to the arm of the couch, “I know that. He liked watching that.”

“Your father never killed anyone outside his social circle,” he reminded you, “They were all wealthy and overly successful people, remember? That’s why it took FBI so long to find him, because the previous profile was wrong. They thought it was someone who didn’t have access to the same resources, the same wealth and status, and it was for revenge.”

“Yeah but Spencer, he killed those people because he is evil.”

“He killed those people because in his mind, he was creating this…perfect business environment. Most of the people who got murdered were either failing business people or people who failed to meet his expectations. He was very successful, he expected the same from everyone. That’s his victimology. The flowers on the crime scene, they were just his signature. Well, his signature and his small offering to you.”

You thought for a moment, then went to the kitchen to pour him a cup of coffee before walking back to the couch.

“I still think this is a bad idea professor,” you muttered as you gave him the cup and he smiled at you, then took a sip while you lit up a cigarette.

“So then,” you crossed your legs, “His victims were the cream of society and that means something? Other than the fact that he was a psychopath?”

“That means a lot of things,” he said, “So far, most of the victims had a higher status in society, it means that the copycats actually wanted to continue his legacy from where he left off. Maybe not the people who disappointed them per se, but until these last two victims, they all had higher financial status, either family money or with their own successful companies but last month, someone first killed a bartender and then a social worker. The only thing that told us it was remotely connected was the flower in the crime scene.”

“That’s why the profile was changing,” you muttered to yourself, “Okay. Is that normal?”

“No, not at all,” he shook his head, “It’s very unfamiliar. It did prove our multiple copycat killers theory but other than that, it was going to make things incredibly harder until…” he nodded at the TV and you pulled your brows together.

“Hold on,” you sat up straighter, your mind working nonstop, “Multiple copycats who are trying to continue that monster’s legacy, and one happens to taint that legacy by going rogue…”

“And he gets killed,” he finished your sentence for you, “Exactly.”

“It was one of the copycats who killed him?”

“That’s my theory.”

“So they’re not actually working together then?” you asked, exhaling the smoke, “Or- or- wait, you said there could be one copycat that was controlling the others, maybe they did it?”

Spencer took a sip of his coffee, “It could also mean that the leader wouldn’t want to take chances like this again,” he said, “Someone tainted the legacy, he might begin to believe he cannot trust anyone with that again.”

You let out a breath, stubbing the cigarette, “What does that mean then? For…all of this?”

“It means that someone cares so much about your father’s legacy that they’re ready to kill anyone and everyone over it, even their partners,” he said, “It also means that their whole operation is starting to crack. It’s only a matter of time someone makes a mistake and ends up getting caught.”

You massaged your temples, “Well, at least one of us can see the light at the end of this psycho murder tunnel.”

“You can’t?”

You shrugged your shoulders, “It feels like it won’t stop,” you croaked out, “It’s like… It’s like I can’t wake up without dread filling me. It’s always there, at some corner of my mind. The more I think about it, the more I feel like—“ you stopped yourself and Spencer frowned, putting his coffee down.

“What?”

“You don’t want to hear that, trust me.”

“Try me.”

“The more I feel like it will go on until the day I die.”

“It’s impossible for this case to take that long, Y/N—“

“I didn’t say it’d take long,” you took a sip of your wine and heaved a sigh before you looked up at him, the expression on his face almost hurting your heart physically, “Told you that you didn’t want to hear it.”

“Don’t say that.”

You forced a small laugh and got up from the couch, suddenly restless.

“You said it yourself,” you said, pacing in the living room, “His victimology. He went after the people who disappointed him, right? Can you guess who’s disappointing him right now by not turning into the monster that he is?”

“That’s not what I—“ he shook his head fervently and stood up from the couch as well, “No. No way. It’s his victimology, but none of the psychiatric evaluations or anything on his file, including the list of his victims suggest that he would go after his family. There was a reason why he never tried to hurt you or Mina or your mother even back then—“

“No I’m sure they’re safe,” you said, “But Mina didn’t get flowers, professor. I have.”

“If our theory of him being in contact with the copycat is right, it means that your father is involved as well—hey,” he stopped you from pacing, reaching out to hold your hands in his, “Listen to me. Whoever it is, they will never, ever touch you. I’ll make sure of that.”

A painful smile pulled at your lips, “Spencer, that’s not your responsibility.”

“It is.”

“FBI can’t—“

“I’m not talking about the FBI, I’m talking about me.”

You took a shaky breath and wrapped your arms around his middle, burying your face into his chest as you swayed slightly.

“Is it okay if we stay like this for a moment?” you muttered, shifting your weight from one foot to another “I don’t— I can’t sit still, I don’t know why.”

“Do you want to hear the reason why?” he ran his fingertips over your spine up and down, as if trying to soothe you and you nodded.

“Yes please.”

“You feel threatened, so your brain is trying to understand where the danger is coming from. It’s telling you to either stand or run away, so it’s pumping adrenaline into your system. We call that nervous energy.”

“That could be my stripper name,” you mumbled, making a chuckle vibrate deeply in his chest, “Tell me more.”

“The nervous energy happens when you’re under stress,” he said, “Our primitive brain is used to physical threats and it created this system in order to protect us. The threat you’re afraid of is not here, not physical, but your brain is still sending that energy to your limbs so that you can attack that physical threat, or run away to somewhere safe. It’s all a part of your defense mechanism.”

You hmmed into his chest, still holding him tight as if someone would take him away from you before you sniffled and pulled back to look up at him.

“You know, I think I got something you can’t explain with science.”

He raised his brows, “Debatable.”

“Do you want to bet? If I win, you’ll tell me what you planned for the next date.”

“What if I win?”

You wiped at your nose, “Tell me your price, professor.”

“There’s this conference on smoking and its effects on health next week, if I win you will attend that with me.”

“That’s a very indirect way to say that you hate my smoking.”

“I mean, it’s better if you see the effects in that conference, I think it’ll be good for you. It has five sessions, so it’s around….7 hours, including breaks.”

You blinked a couple of times, then nodded. “7 hours? That’s— okay. Yeah, I’m sure— I’m sure it’ll be fun.”  

A smile pulled at his lips, “Okay,” he said, “What is it?”

“It’s just,” you nibbled on your lip, trying to find the right words, “I was thinking and I realized something. I— I think it’s instinctual somehow, you can’t really explain it with science but when you’re here…” you paused, “With me, I mean, this whole panic dissolves. I feel safe, and it’s so unfamiliar that I don’t—“ you let out a small laugh, “I don’t know how to deal with that. I normally don’t feel safe, ever.”

A small smile pulled at his lips and he tilted his head, his warm gaze focused on you. You scrunched up your nose.

“Don’t tell me science can explain that.”

“Oxytocin.”

“God damn it!” you exclaimed, making him laugh, “Oxytocin?”

“Yeah, oxytocin. It’s a hormone that ensures that you trust people along with everything else. Basically, your brain— when you’re attracted to someone, your brain releases dopamine, so your serotonin levels rise and it produces oxytocin. It’s a big part of romantic attachment, it’s released during sex as well.”

You arched a brow, a small smirk flashing over your face and he pressed his lips together, a look of mischief appearing on his face.

“It strengthens fidelity as well,” he explained, “Seeing your partner as more attractive than others, and preferring to interact more with your partner than strangers.”

You clicked your tongue, “7 hours of conference, here we come.”

“It’ll be fun, I heard they’re bringing a real lung.”

“Can’t wait,” you muttered and entwined your fingers with his, “Well for what it’s worth professor, I have a lot of oxytocin for you.”

He cleared his throat, “Scientifically, one of the most important aspects of it is reproduction, in females it triggers labor and in males it moves sperm so having a lot of oxytocin can be—“

“Spencer, I’m trying to talk dirty in a scientific way!” you groaned, a fire spreading over your face because of embarrassment and you took a step to walk away from him but he grabbed your hand to turn you around and tug you closer to him, making you let out a whine.

“I feel like an idiot,” you murmured and he shook his head fervently,

“No, of course not,” he said, pushing your hair behind your ear, “Hey. I don’t know anything about weddings. So we complete each other if you ask me.”

You scoffed a laugh and looked up at him, your brows furrowed together, “You really think that?”

He nodded and you heaved a sigh.

“Okay.”

“And…for your information,” he swallowed thickly, “I have a lot of oxytocin for you too.”

A giggle you couldn’t stop escaped from you as he leaned in to capture your lips in a kiss, making your stomach do a pleasant flip. You wrapped your arms around his neck, your lungs full of his scent, making you dizzy.

“They’ll take away your doctorates for that joke, professor,” you breathed out as he pulled back, resting his forehead on yours while you raked your nails over the back of his neck gently.

“Worth it,” he murmured to your lips, leaning in to kiss you again, this time pressing you closer to his body and your heart started beating in your throat, a whine climbing up to your throat, desire filling your system faster than any other drug.

“Would you like to stay the night?” you whispered, and his eyes shot up to yours, both of you aware what you were really asking. He looked almost hypnotized by the sight of you in his arms and he blinked a couple of times, as if trying to focus before he nodded.

“Are you sure?” he asked, his voice hoarse and you took a shaky breath.

“Yeah,” you managed to say, your whole being consumed by this moment. “Yeah, I’ve never been more sure of anything.”

You could swear he could hear your heartbeat echoing through the room,

“No scientific explanation this time, professor?” you whispered against his lips and his fingers caressed the sensitive skin of your neck, sending a pleasant shiver from there to your whole body.

“No,” he murmured, leaning in to brush his lips against yours, “Not this time. Not for the lady who imparadises my mind.”

The lady who imparadises my mind.

That was how Dante described Beatrice in Paradise.

You stood on your tiptoes to pull him into a kiss, then tugged at his hand to lead him into your bedroom.

Chapter 15