#I also had to make a separate list on my phone of all the Terrible Characters that are my favorite like Kendall Roy or Izzy Hands
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Hands Where I Can See Them, Part 6
Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5
The days pass like cold mud – slow, uncomfortable, and relentless.
But they do pass.
Eddie had said he could give Steve the time he needed, and he’d meant it; he would wait out the two weeks and be there on the other side to talk to him. To hope for a second chance.
They see each other here and there, mostly in passing: Steve comes to pick a few of the kids up from a gaming session; Eddie stops in at Family Video with Jeff, Gareth, and Oliver to grab a movie (where Jeff and Steve exchange a surprisingly friendly greeting); they occupy separate sides of the room at a group dinner.
Each time, Eddie is sure to at least acknowledge and wave at Steve, in spite of any protective hovering and scowling Robin might be doing if she happens to be present. Steve gives cautious nods in return at first, but as they near the deadline, he’s returning Eddie’s distant greetings with a hesitant smile and that ridiculous little finger-wiggle wave that Eddie had been reluctantly charmed by in the beginning.
And in the meantime, Eddie plots.
He is not, by nature, an optimist (strangely, between the two of them, that’s Steve’s area), but in this instance, he plans for the best: the idea that Steve will say yes and let Eddie take him on a proper date. And as improvisational as Eddie likes to be, he’s also a veteran dungeon master and plotter of all sorts of campaigns; if you want long-term plans to go off without a hitch, it pays to be prepared.
So, he plots.
He brainstorms and makes lists of all of Steve’s favorite things and schemes out elaborate romantic gestures and draws on all the knowledge he’s retained from the romcoms he’d whined about having to watch with Steve but had always given in over when Steve gave him that puppy-eyed look that Eddie has no defense against.
(And somehow, he’d continued to think they were just friends. His lack of awareness should be studied as a scientific anomaly.)
He thinks Steve would be proud of his accumulated work (and Eddie himself isn’t ashamed of it, but all the same, he makes sure to hide the notebook where none of the guys will ever, ever stumble across it, because they would never, ever let Eddie live it down).
In any case, the ticking down of two weeks finally comes to an end, and Eddie stands in front of the phone earlier than he’d normally care to be awake, hoping that his work will pay off.
Steve picks up before the fourth ring, just like he always does, and answers the phone like a dork, just like he always does.
“Harrington residence, Steve speaking.”
This is where Eddie normally makes a joke – says he’d been trying for the funeral home and asks if Steve happens to have a shovel and some time on his hands; says he thought he’d had the number for the Hawkins Gentleman’s Club and asks if Steve is much of a dancer; once, he’d even affected a terrible New York accent and spun some lines about how he’d been trying to call a speakeasy. He can always hear the laughter caught behind Steve’s dry responses to his nonsense, and he always loves it.
But now is not “normally,” and Eddie only just manages to sound like himself as he replies, “Steve. Just the Harrington I was hoping would speak.”
“Eddie,” is all Steve says for a moment; he sounds almost surprised, but not displeased. “Hey.”
“Hey,” Eddie says back. “So, I know punctuality has never been my strong suit, but it’s, uh. It’s been two weeks. Pretty much on the dot. And you said I should come talk to you again, so…”
“Uh, yeah. Yeah, no, did you – You can come over. If you want to talk, still,” Steve says – stammers, really, like he’s been caught off-guard, like he really hadn’t been expecting Eddie to call.
“Well, if I didn’t change my mind in two weeks, I’m not gonna change my mind in the fifteen minutes it takes to get to your house,” Eddie says.
“Sure,” Steve says, a little steadier now. “Yeah, I’ll see you in a bit, I guess.”
“You definitely will,” Eddie assures him. “See you in a bit, Steve.”
“Yeah. Yes. Bye, Eddie.”
It’s awkward, but – it’s something.
The only reason Eddie doesn’t break an egregious number of traffic laws on his way to Steve’s house is because he simply couldn’t bear the irony of getting arrested now, of all times. With his luck, he’d get sent up the river and Steve would be left waiting and waiting at his house before coming to the conclusion that Eddie had never really cared about him after all, only to be found surprised and jaded several years later when Eddie is finally released from prison and makes his first stop the Harrington house and – Christ, Eddie’s had romance on the brain too long. He’s going to have to binge reread Lord of the Rings or something to get his head back on straight.
He pulls his head out of the clouds and his van into the Harrington’s ridiculously massive driveway and heads up to the door with a vibrating surplus of energy sustained entirely by nerves and determination.
It seems like he’s not the only one running on anxiety power, though, based on how quickly the door opens after Eddie rings the bell.
It’s the first time Eddie’s really seen Steve up close since the trailer two weeks ago. He looks– better. He’s still tired, Eddie can tell; he’s got that slightly droopy look around his eyes and an almost painful set to his jaw that’s nearly impossible to spot if you don’t know what to look for – and most people don’t (but Eddie’s spent a lot of time learning Steve, even if he hadn’t picked up all the right tells). But he still looks better, and Eddie finds himself relieved.
“Hey, there,” he says, giving Steve a nod. “Just happened to be in the neighborhood, y’know. Thought I’d drop by.”
Steve shakes his head, a tiny smile quirking up at one corner of his mouth. “Come in, jackass.”
“Fine way to treat your guests,” Eddie drawls in return, gratified when Steve’s smile grows just a tiny bit more.
He takes off his shoes at the entryway (Steve hardly ever asks anyone to take off their shoes, because worrying about the state of your floors isn’t cool, but it bothers him all the same, and so Eddie takes them off) and follows Steve through to the living room, where they both perch awkwardly on the couch and sit in an equally awkward silence for about thirty seconds.
“So… you said I should come talk to you,” Eddie says finally.
“I did, yeah.” Steve nods.
“You said to tell you if this was still something I wanted,” Eddie goes on.
“I did, yeah,” Steve says again. “And… you’re here.”
“I told you I wouldn’t change my mind, Steve.” Eddie’s hand twitches, almost instinctively reaching out for a spot on Steve’s knee, or around his wrist, or threaded through his fingers, but he doesn’t think he can take Steve freezing up or pulling away again. “This – you, us – I still want it. I want to do it right. If you’ll give me the chance, I want to treat you how you should be treated.”
Steve nods. “Okay.”
Eddie blinks. “Okay? As in – just, yeah, okay?” He knows he’s not making much sense, but he’d been sort of prepared to have to make his case – to extol the virtues of the perfect dates he had planned, to sing the praises of all the things he knows now that he should appreciate about Steve, to lament the loss of trust and ease between them, but instead Steve is just sitting there, watching him with a funny sort of smile on his face.
“I was… I was never going to say no, Eddie.” Steve shrugs. “I just really needed you to think about it. To make sure this—a real relationship with… with me—is really what you wanted. Because if it’s not, if you took it back again, I don’t think I’d– I just really needed you to be sure.”
“Steve,” Eddie says, low and serious, “I have never been more sure of anything in my life. A real relationship with you is exactly what I want.”
Steve’s smile twitches, changes into something a little more familiar, a little warmer. “Okay.”
“You’re never gonna regret it, sweetheart,” Eddie says, can’t help bouncing a little in his seat as his nerves turn to excitement, to elation. “I have the corniest, most romantic dates planned, I swear, I’m going to knock your socks off. We’ll unlock your inner Molly Ringwald.”
Rolling his eyes, Steve shakes his head at Eddie. “You really don’t have to do all that. I’m not– putting you through a trial, or whatever, we can just go back to what we were doing, right? Just with… I dunno, more awareness.”
“Noooo, no.” Eddie shakes his head right back. “You said you didn’t want to pretend nothing ever happened, and you shouldn’t have to. I want to do this, Steve. Let me take you on a real date.”
Something unreadable flashes across Steve’s face, and suddenly his smile is wrong again. Sort of plastic – like he’s trying, but it’s not quite reaching his eyes. But before Eddie can ask what’s wrong, Steve is shrugging.
“If you insist…”
“I most certainly do,” Eddie says firmly. “I’m gonna romance the shit out of you.”
At that, Steve releases a helpless snort of laughter, and the plastic smile is gone, blown away by a real one.
“You’re making a super good argument for it,” Steve says, and Eddie grins.
“Aren’t I?” He bats his eyelashes. “So tell me: you free on Friday night?”
“I’m working, actually. Someone has to dole out dumb romances to other people out on dates,” Steve says drily, as if he himself hasn’t seen most of the films he’s maligning.
Eddie hums. “Saturday?”
“I could probably get someone to cover my shift,” Steve hedges, teasing and flirty and everything Eddie’s missed in the last few weeks.
“So you’ll be free?” Eddie asks.
“As a bird – as long as that bird isn’t a robin, considering who’s going to have to cover for me,” Steve says, and Eddie pulls a grimace.
“Yeah, maybe don’t tell her why you need the shift covered. I get the feeling she wouldn’t be as agreeable if she knew I was involved,” he says.
“I don’t think Robin’s ever been agreeable in her life, and she’d probably resent the accusation.” Steve smirks. “But as long as she doesn’t think I’m sneaking away to see you, and if I take the Monday morning shift she really hates, I don’t think it’ll be a problem. Let’s plan for Saturday?”
“Saturday it is!” Eddie pops up off the couch, both unwilling to sour the mood by overstaying his welcome, and suddenly overflowing with the need to set preparations in motion. “Six o’clock, sharp! I’ll pick you up.”
“Do I get to know where we’re going?” Steve asks, one eyebrow cocked.
“Absolutely not. The surprise is part of the experience,” Eddie says.
“Dress code, at least?” Steve wheedles, and Eddie supposes that’s fair.
“Casual. And bring a jacket,” Eddie says.
Both of Steve’s brows go up now, as he rises from the couch to follow Eddie back out towards the door. “Telling someone to bring outerwear to a date is usually a red flag, man,” he says, watching as Eddie shoves his shoes back on.
“But you love being outside,” Eddie counters, glancing up at Steve with a grin.
“I,” Steve pauses, blinking at him. “I guess.”
“And no more hints,” Eddie says, rising from the floor and reaching for the door handle. “I’ll see you on Saturday?”
“Yeah,” Steve says, his voice warming around a small, pleased smile, “I’ll see you on Saturday.”
“Can’t wait.” Eddie throws one last grin at him before stepping out into the brisk, late fall air.
He doesn’t stop smiling the whole way home.
Part 7
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Tag List (Drop me a line if you'd like off the ride): @bushbees @y0urnewstepp4r3nt @gleek4twd @hellfireone @westifer-dead @anne-bennett-cosplayer @starman-jpg @mugloversonly @swimmingbirdrunningrock @alycatavatar @y4r3luv @rhapsodyinalto @vinteraltus @lilpomelito @tillystealeaves @noctxrn-e @pearynice @giverobinagfbrigade @novacorpsrecruit @hotluncheddie @strangersteddierthings @alongcomesaspider @theheadlessphilosopher @jettestar @rajumat @garden-of-gay @jamieweasley13 @dam28lh @oldwitcheshat @lololol-1234 @perfectlysensiblenonsense @salty-h0e @r0binscript @mavernanche @back2beesness @a-lovely-craziness @paintsplatteredandimperfect @redbullgivescaswings @emmabubbles @heartstarstar-blog @thesuninyaface @thatonebisexualman @fruitandbubbles @erinharvelle @m-owo-n @theystoodandplayedwithsilence @surroundedbyconfusion @luthienstormblessed @3ldr1tchang3l @pansexuality-activated
The tag list is full at this time, but I'll be posting this fic to Ao3 soon, so hopefully people can subscribe there if they want update alerts?
#steddie#eddie munson#steve harrington#stranger things#eddiesteve#things are going to start picking up soon 👀#solar wrote
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Your s classes fics aew so good they've pulled me into the fandom again. Now gonna have to see how far the manwha is along! Hahha
(Also since I love your fics so much, I'm not sure if you read fics for fandom you write (I know some authors don't) but if you have any recs... 👀
Thank you!!!! I'm glad you enjoyed it and I hope you had fun with the current chapters!
And yes, I always have recs for fandoms I write because I usually only start writing once I'm truly obsessed or couldn't find a fic that hit quite the vibe I wanted.
Anyway! Fanfic recs! This list has a little bit of everything, I think!
never leave a trace by armed_teddy_bear
The Han parents haunt Han Yoojin.
Last Forsythia’s Bloom by Lazlo (hinagikuhaven)
Yoojin is hit by a fuck or die curse. Daunted by the knowledge of the cure that will force Yoohyun to make a terrible choice, Yoojin chooses to run away.
warning for incest and dubcon
Slumbering Stars by FeltLikeWritingAndHereIAm
The world ended when Han Yoojin’s brother died between his arms. Nothing will ever be the same, not even with a second chance.
Behind A Smile by Lazlo (hinagikuhaven)
In hindsight, Yoohyun should have long suspected it. The abyss that laid behind his brother’s happy smiles.
does that mean by Frill
Sung Hyunjae and Han Yoojin knew one another before the dungeons.
S-Rank Skill Poison Nullification! by chamsie
Rather than getting famous for his taming skills, Yoojin accidentally becomes infamous for his ability to eat any and all poisons without dying.
and tomorrow may be something to look for by wovenstarlight
Han Yoojin time travels instead of regressing. This causes some problems.
the ghost of you (will never leave me) by Sorbus
Han Yoojin has skills geared towards the mind and lending or borrowing power. It only makes sense that if he has a skill to receive the memories of others alongside their power and skills, he could sacrifice his memories of others in return for some strength.
Han Yoojin has a skill that lets him give up memories of someone he holds dear in exchange for more power. Things change, but ultimately stay the same.
Now We Have by Frill
Han Yoojin can tame monsters. He meets Bak Yerim and Yoo Myeongwoo in a dungeon.
but i have promises to keep (and miles to go before i sleep) by Anonymous
Of all the possible ways the Awakening broker could’ve scammed her, Bak Yerim never considered abandoning her in a dungeon as one of them.
Stealing her money and never actually bringing her to a dungeon? Definitely. Taking her money and then reporting her to the authorities? Yeah. Going through the effort of bringing her here and leaving her? Wasn’t even a thought in her head.
And yet here she was, completely alone in a dungeon.
Well. Fuck.
or, bak yerim ends up stuck in a dungeon and meetings a certain someone
My Sweetheart by armed_teddy_bear
Bak Yerim finds the Han family’s home videos, featuring a young Han Yoojin and baby Han Yoohyun.
Isolation Training by armed_teddy_bear
Han Yoojin kept a diary to deal with the stress of his separation with Yoohyun. While moving his brother’s things, Yoohyun finds it.
The Ghost That Lives With Us by Anonymous
Hatred comes to Yoohyun as unnaturally as love, and just as intensely.
If love is the answer could you please rephrase the question? by theladyofcamelias
Yoojin goes on a date with an old high school acquaintance. Everybody is perfectly normal about this in case you were wondering.
travel logs to you by flyingintherainclouds
In which Han Yoojin has decided to live a quiet life, as requested of him by his dear brother, who anonymously deposits money into his bank account.
He goes traveling two years after Yoohyun left, determined to come back whole.
Still, he can't bear to leave without telling his brother, so he sends recordings of himself on his travels to him.
secondary title: recordings to you, from my heart to yours
love me, love me not (love me) by Yersina
“Hi,” Yoojin croaks into his phone. His stomach had been churning from downing too many healing potions in a row, so he’d been experimenting with just letting the coughs happen. Now he’s starting to regret that a bit. “I’d like to make an appointment.”
He gives the nurse his information and stares out the window of his apartment while she looks up his records. “What are you coming in for?”
“Hanahaki surgery.”
new dog's old tricks by snipsnap
In which Yoojin doesn’t wake up at the broker. This changes everything.
Or: being from the future gives you a lot of strings to pull. Yoojin is studying the harp.
[Final Repayment] by Frill
“I…” Yoohyun let go of Yoojin’s hand. The curly-haired man stood there awkwardly before asking, “May I come in?”
Yoojin stepped to the side quickly. “Come in, Yoohyun-ah. You’re always welcomed.”
Yoojin was very confused when his dongsaeng appeared on his doorstep after 3 months of silence.
convention no. 138 by Yersina
Yoojin strokes through Yoohyun’s hair once, and the clumps of dirt that fall from the action remind him of where they’re currently standing. “Yoohyun, why are you in a crater? What happened?”
At this, Yoohyun untwists himself just enough from Yoojin’s hold to raise a handful of flames in Yoojin’s direction. “Hyung, I think I have magic powers,” he says solemnly.
Yoojin stares for a long moment, long enough that Yoohyun clenches his fist, extinguishing the fire, and looks up at Yoojin worriedly. “Okay,” he manages eventually. “Okay. Sure. Yeah.”
He was attacked by dinosaurs and his eleven year old brother has magic powers. That’s… this is fine.
Fighting with Fear by Turacin (Turacoverdin)
When a raid of an S-class dungeon goes wrong and a conspiracy is revealed, the only option Yoojin has is to take care of it all himself. Unfortunately, he must violently kill fourteen people and an S-class snail boss to do so.
The consequences of this are not what he expected.
You Before Forever by Vehemenace
When Han Yoojin regresses, he isn't sitting in one of Haeyeon Guild's guest rooms. Instead, he finds himself in the middle of the streets of Seoul, disoriented, with the feeling of his brother's corpse imprinted on his hands.
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5, 9, 12!
crab!! hi hi hi hi hi hiiiii~! ty for quastions :3
from fanfic asks for the new year
5. Which WIP is first on your list to complete this year? Will you post a snippet?
aha, well. technically the first is mini heist!au but none of it is written that is in the shape of the final thing that i haven't already posted on here so i'm gonna cheat and say uh. wow huh okay then i kind of have no idea. ah! maybe my arthurcobb fic then! cos it sure won't be narrative!fic, lol!
here is a snippet from the current draft which is uhh three and a half years old (by which i mostly mean to say, there are a couple things in here i would write differently now.):
Arthur brings his coffee up to the counter where Dom has already deposited his onion rings and says, “Excuse me, can I purchase a — a temporary phone?” If he doesn't call it a burner maybe he will come off as more the kind of person he actually is. The cashier puts up a finger in question and Arthur nods but behind him Dom says firmly, “Two.”
Arthur turns, surprised. “Why — we don’t need two?” They’re traveling together, after all. Arthur’s not about to leave Dom alone, so it’s not like Dom will need his own phone. It’s not like Dom’s super functional, anyway. The three days he’d spent on Arthur’s couch before they read the news and had to leave town extremely suspiciously, he’d really just spent on the couch. “We don’t need two phones, Dom,” Arthur repeats.
“What if we get separated,” Dom points out. “How would we get in contact with each other again? You should have your own phone, too.” Arthur would rather not think about circumstances that would separate them. Dom says, “Arthur,” and it feels pointed.
Something like panic hollows Arthur’s chest. Things are already out of control, apparently. Two days into being on the run and apparently Dom can call these shots but he can’t be on the run by himself.
9. Short term goals… what do you hope to complete this week or in January?
ahaha actually, getting this ask made me decide that i'm going to try my absolute best to finish the project i've been calling "mini heist!au" (which ... at this point ... is just an au of heist!au without any heists in it, lmao) this month! i used answering this ask as my bribe for reading through all the existing material and drawing up a revision plan / new fic story structure actually. i'm not sure i'll be able to, i suspect there are 2-4 drafts and i simply do not write that fast (at least one from scratch based on a new outline, possibly a second from scratch, and then a second/third that's just like. content/theme/cadence/character arcs etc revisions. though that might get complex enough to be two drafts). but we'll see! there are still 24 days so at this current moment i am optimistic :3
12. Will you change anything about the way you edit or rewrite this year?
YES I SURE FUCKING WILL. I HAVE BEGUN IT ACTUALLY, mostly i'm continuing to test a thing i tried in december 2023 to see if it still works for projects that aren't the specific situation of the beginning of devotion (so far, yes!) anyway the way that process goes is like this (recipe below):
first, write a terrible draft. some scenes can just be a note of what needs to happen. ideally: expend as little fucking effort on this as possible bc like. almost none of this will stay. just write enough to get the vibes of what you're going for.
second, read through that draft taking notes of what you like or don't like (or, the way i phrase it for myself to make the goal clearer "what feels like it is aligned with my vision for the fic vs what isn't") but most importantly. WHY.
for me doing this second step has 2/2 turned into "here is a rough outline of the story, completely restructured" but also, with no ending (which is fine, i just have to trust that the ending will appear when more of the draft is written).
third, compile those notes on a new draft into a narrative-order outline (linear for me).
fourth, write the new draft.
fifth, try to do step 2 again. but what i found for the beginning of devotion and therefore what i'm to a certain extent expecting, is that i will just have a bunch of Ns/dislikes and then go. ah. because the things i dislike are too granular to require big-picture story structure changes now.
sixth, copy the most recent draft into a new doc. and read through and revise directly on the page. maybe title at some point so that revision stuff is aligned with the mood/tone/content/vibes/whatever of the title. and maybe come up with initial tags and a summary here also to make sure the vibes are all aligned. hopefully the content of the ending will become clear at this point and you'll draft that for the first or second time.
seventh, idk i like to do an out-loud readthrough bc reading cadence is important to me personally. and also i am scared to lose the skill of reading aloud considering i do it about zero times a year other than this.
that's it basically.
#hidey speaks#ask game#hidey talks fic#is that my tag lol#man my paragraphs used to be so chonkyyy#but also wow im kind of emotional ... some of my older writing is so fucking beautiful#in a way i tried to train myself out of pretty hard the last two years. and now mmm. i'm better at structure but#i'm not sure i know how to get some of that lyricism back
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Missed orientation for my course today. The information announcing the date was in an email titled 'Internship Planning: Course Updates' or something of the sort, and only came after a list of dot points about the internship forms we are supposed to be working on, and not as a dot point itself either, which very much failed to draw attention to itself, I felt. Felt terrible this morning anyhow and was in no shape to go, but anyway - I missed it.
Completely unplanned aside - realise that I have become inured to messages and completely ignore them because of the constant expectation of being available to respond 24/7 with technology these days, or what I am now terming 'availability fatigue'.
I don't think there has ever been a time in human history where we have been expected to be immediately available all of the time, nor have had such wide and instant demand for responses. Now with mobile phones and the internet, there are text messages, emails, calls, from literally anywhere in the world pretty much, and you're expected to be available for dealing with such an influx 8 hours a day 5 days a week for work, and all the hours of the day outside of and to some extent including that in your personal life too. I think I have communication fatigue. I don't think there has ever been this much readily accessible communication before. But as things get faster, so does the requirement to communicate faster.
Suddenly I am stoppered with how many things there are that I want to say. And the same with how many things I want to do. And I realise that a significant amount of the choke is a not-felt but nevertheless effectively acting paralysis of fear or at least apprehension and tremulousness at the implications and energy that comes with having to face them.
They made me an email account of my own at the unpaid private practice clinic. Another email, that they suggested we route to our inboxes to make sure we don't miss anything.
I understand the benefit and necessity even of having separate accounts for each organisation and role and so on, but it also is so... many. Personal email, work email, other work email if you have a second job - and we have two placement locations, so - school email maybe if applicable (and it is to me), and really as many work emails as you have different jobs, including 'side hustles'.
When you go to fill out a form, there's Personal Phone, Work Phone, Home Phone, just the same.
.
Sigh. I came on here to say something else entirely.
Log.
Have been working on the apartment with the little bit of energy I've managed to recoup and accumulate during this break. Difficult to believe it's already the end of January. But reworking the apartment has been good.
... -
I am almost afraid to say it is good in case something jumps on that, that fear of speaking happiness like an invitation to have it be spoiled. But then I think that is why, perhaps, we so rarely speak of happiness and joy - not only that it is harder to pin down, nor that we are in the moment of experiencing it, but also that we fear that should we write it down as a record, that it would be an invitation to the fates to recant it, jinx it. We never fear that our sadness or misery be taken away by writing it down, and indeed writing it out or expressing it in any form is a way of letting it out, and lessens the burden - but it is the exact opposite we want of happiness and joy.
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His Queen Pt7- Battle Of The Smithsonian
I wake up and throw the box lid off me
"Lawrence! Good to see you, lad!"
"Yeah, you too, Teddy"
"The Guardian of Brooklyn has returned!" I get out of my box and run to Ahk
"Hey, Ahk. Look, McPhee told me
what's going on around here. How can they separate you both? I had no idea"
"Indeed. A lot has transpired, Lawrence, since your last visit. One would say that..."
"Just..." Larrys phone rings
"Hey, Bocephus! Little help over here!" Larry puts his phone away and walks over to a smaller box, opening it up
"Hey, fellas. How you doing?"
"Well, lookee here. If it ain't Mr. Big-in-the-Britches himself, come back just in time to see us off"
"Yeah, Jed, I heard. Look, I don't even know how this happened" Larrys phone begins to ring again
"Yeah. Yeah, real mystery how this happened. Maybe the answer's on that magic buzzing box there in your hand!"
"Larry you weren't here. We lost our voice" I sadly say "we have no one to speak for us"
"None, none, dum-dum" the Easter island head says also sadly
Hey, guys! It's okay. I'll call the board in the morning, all right? I got some pull now. I'll handle this. We're gonna be okay here"
"We. Did you hear that? you hear Daydream Johnny? there ain't been a "we" ever since you put us on the "pay no mind" list. And that's a cold place to be, boy" we can all tell Jed is struggling the most with this
"Larry, what's done is done. Even the glory of Rome had to come to an end" Octavius looks off into the distance dramatically
"Would you please not look dramatically
off into the middle distance when you say that. It makes me feel worse"
"I don't know what you're talking about"
"Where are you looking? I'm over here"
"Just a bit of wall"
"Look, guys, maybe it won't be so bad"
"Larry if you'll excuse Ahk and I, but we would like to spend our last evening together, just the two of us" I take Ahk's hand and we head over to the Egyptology Department.
The evening ends way to quickly. If I could cry I would have tears running down my face
"I'm going to miss you Ahk" I stroke his face with my hand while stood next to my box
"And I will miss you my Queen. I love you Amunet"
"I love you Ahkmnerah fourth king of the fourth kings" we both laugh before I get into my box. I lay down and Ahk places a kiss on my forehead before closing my box. My eyes close and I'm asleep.
I wake up in my box. My mind goes straight to Ahkmenrah and how I will not see him tonight. Wait I'm awake? we aren't meant to be. I push the box off me and see Sacagawea. I help Dexter out of his
"Hey bud" he climbs on my shoulder and nuzzles his head into my neck. I then see the tablet of Ahkmenrah in his crate
"Amunet, how are you?" Sacagawea asks
"Terrible. If we're to be apart I'd rather not wake up at all. Speaking of we aren't meant to be awake" I look at Dexter who looks down sad "I guess at least Ahk isn't feeling this pain right now"
"Where is it!" I hear someone yelling. A voice I recognise
"No"
"Amunet what is it? what's wrong?" Sacagawea asks
"It can't be" I look at my friend, fear ridden in my eyes "it's Kahmunrah. Ahk's older brother. He killed their parents, then when I was pregnant he killed my baby, I miscarried, then he killed me and then Ahk. He's evil. We must hide the tablet. Sacagawea take it, go" I hand her the tablet but before she can hide it Kahmunrah and his guards find us
"My beautiful Amunet. It's good to see you again, you look radiant as ever. Now I don't see your husband anywhere"
"Go to Duat" Kahmunrah tuts me as he places a hand around my neck
"Amunet"
"It's ok" I say to Sacagawea who looks terrified
"Guards hold her" he pushes me and I'm held back as he pushes my friends into a large containing unit. Before we know it we all freeze and go to sleep.
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This is a very long and self indulgent vent post. Feel free to disregard and tw for sucidial ideation. I am currently seeking help but I needed to vent.
So 2023 I think is the official worst year of my life. I thought as the years went on life would like.... get easier??? But no lmao it somehow gets progressively harder and I feel like I am completely drowning and suffering at every turn. I will essentially plan a little treat for myself and that treat will then turn into like a comical death trap of some sort. I feel like whoever is controlling my sim is trying to torture me.
I'm just going to list the terrible things that I've had to deal with since I have what 5 months left of this year to claw my way through?
My cat was diagnosed with cancer. That cancer spread so rapidly in the span of one week, I got her diagnosis on her last day on earth.
Prior to this, she was puking 3 times a day and so I was cleaning up puke and sobbing over her for a month striaght
Vet bills
The doctor who did the biopsy of my cats cancer didn't relay how severe her cancer was causing me to have to spend 5 hours in the the ER. I was separated from my cat during those 5 hours. My phone was on 1%. Ready player one was my only entertainment. Many dogs got checked before my blood puking cancer ridden cat. The person at the front desk said "we only treat several emergencies first." Meaning vomiting blood isn't urget............. wild.
Obviously I had to put my cat down. She was 7 years old. I miss Pirate everyday. I used to call her an angel from outerspace, now she's really sailing around up there.
I had to do this without my husband present because he was at.... his grandma's funeral in England. I couldn't go because I was taking care of our dying cat. I find this to be an especially twisted fate since he left right before I had a psychotic break due to all the stress
I got covid. And I got it like a month ago in the middle of the summer. This ate away at my travel time making it so I couldn't see one of my friends in portland.
I got exposed to covid over the weekend and if I get sick again my job will take my remaining 3 days off. This is my last year in America and if those days are taken from me I won't be able to see my family for the holidays
I dont get to leave this hell country this year after excitedly telling everyone I was out of here. Embaressing.
Every single trip I have planned this year has been a complete disaster
I either didn't get to see the friend I planned to see, or my time with that friend was limited to reasons outside of either of our control leaving me to feel completely isolated, lonely and like nobody's priority or important friend (even though that's irrational)
I've had an issue with almost every single flight I've taken this year. Will it be delayed or canceled making me have to take the flight that makes it so arrive home at 4am? The answer is always yes!
My job had revealed itself to be a toxic work enviornement before but it continues to worsen.
My job makes me want to kill myself, like actively. I've had the worst suicidal ideation of life since I was 13 and having to visit my abusive and neglectful father
Somehow, at 27, all of my trauma seems to be bubbling up in the worst possible way and nobody in my support system is close to me right now/alive.
Guess what? In an ironic twist of fate applying to jobs also makes me want to kill myself and I find to be a dramatic waste of time.
My husband and I set up trips around this time of year which made it so when his grandmother died, he will have seen me once in the span of 4 weeks. Meaning the only person who I can mourn the loss of my cat with is gone. I will be coming home to an empty house when I return tomorrow and my depression is not making it easy to take care of myself
Living in America has never seemed more dystopian. My rights are simply withering away while inflation stacks up. It's been an expensive year by itself but the recession isn't helping
I feel completely lost on what I want to do with the rest of my life. I want to be financially stable (as I am lucky enough to be now) but I'm unsure of my future in england. I don't know if I really should pursue my masters because I feel my entire body aching to do something I enjoy and I have no idea if I'll ever be able to work in a field that improves people's lives and doesn't make me want to kill myself
I will never be mentally emotionally or financially stable enough to have kids. Having them seems terrifying to me. I cry for my younger self imagining her life and how unfair the world was to her, and wondering why I was born if not to suffer
I can barely focus on anything in my life anymore. I feel like my attention span has stopped working and I can only do a task for 15 minutes before feeling exhausted
Crippling weed dependency
I can't remember the last time I felt geniunely happy. If I spend anytime not listening to something or distracting myself my brain is essentially torturing and harassing me and telling me the many ways in which I should kill myself
I cannot afford a grippy sock vacation to make me not kill myself. I feel like I'd want to be there for a whole month and that's probably like 800k and would mean losong my job lmao
Having to wait for life to improve slowly on its own is agonizing to me as I really just want to leave America as quickly as I can to get away from it all. And then I remember all the things and people and places I will miss and I get this unearthly ache of sadness.
I'm also not blind and know terf island (england) is also doing remarkably terrible and I will be moving to a very xenophobic country far away from the familiar.
Everything that happens on the news now makes me fully believe I'm living in a dark comedy about a species that is run by a group of people so greedy that they are racing to extinction
*gestures widely at the state of everything*
I visited my dad's side of the family without nick (husband) present and not only did they bully and antagonize me the entire time, but they also said the most off the wall insanely racist shit I've ever heard in my life. So vile i was physcially ill after interacting with them. But I have to keep up appearances for my future wedding.
I want to cut them out of my life so fucking bad it's unreal. My mom is begging and pleading with me to not do it but being around such vile people makes me physically ill.
This things I used to love now feel distant and boring to me now. I feel like it's so hard to laugh at anything anymore
The real kicker for this is I always pack period items just in case, and I didn't for once and now I am dealing with painful cramps at 3am away from ibprofin and like all of civilization
Okay that's it. I hope none of you read this it's incredibly self indulgent and pitying. I feel as though I've never been allowed to be sad and it's all bubbling up this year and suffocating me. And then people keep telling me to not kill myself which makes me feel guilty for wanting to end it all in the first place. I've always hated asking for help, I hate people feeling sorry for me, I hate struggling. I've never even attempted because im too chickenshit.
Can't wait to share this post in therapy. Which I won't be able to afford for awhile.
I miss feeling joy.
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Lots of blathering about my upcoming NYC trip under the break.
I have this big trip coming up on Tuesday. I've written a bit about it. I won this specific award to meet with publishing people in NYC. I'm taking my baby. My mom is coming too.
I've been a bit of a wreck over it--very, very anxious. I haven't traveled much since 2019, and I definitely haven't traveled by myself since then. I'm worried about traveling with a small baby and being able to handle any contingencies that may arise. I keep coming back to whether his stroller is going to be too big to navigate a city like New York. I think I'm going to rent an umbrella stroller, to maybe help alleviate my worry about it.
Normally when things give me anxiety I'm avoidant. This is NOT a great strategy and has given me lots of trouble over the years. I've heard that a lot of the pleasure of traveling is the planning that happens beforehand, but that very planning drives me bonkers with anxiety. I don't enjoy it one bit. It's very stressful, but for this particular trip I've had to plan like I've never planned in my life because little babies come with GEAR and LIMITATIONS, and you can travel with them, but you have to be prepared. I have a Word doc with like five different lists that I've been adding to for weeks. Here's one. It's all the things I needed to either buy or make sure they're packed because they're nonnegotiable for this trip:
I've had to think a lot about pumping. I'll be separated from Baby R periodically throughout the trip, and I don't want my very hard-won milk supply to suffer (or to get mastitis), so I've had to think about how to pump in potentially crowded spaces without having to sit in a small, dirty, potentially crowded, or in-demand bathroom for 15 minutes at a time. My solution was to buy a small wearable pump and nursing cover and to just...use it in front of people?
I've had to accept that everyone I'm around on this trip is going to see my boobs as I nurse.
I've also had to train for this trip like I'm running a marathon or something. Here's a list of all the things I need to do beforehand to prepare:
I'm terrible about keeping up with tech and making sure my phone and computer are updated. I try not to ever use apps if I can help it. I just don't like tech that much. But with this trip I need to use tech! I need to use the airline apps! They need to be on my phone and working! Dominic had bought me an Apple Watch to use on runs a couple years ago, and I really didn't care for it very much. But if I have the watch on my trip I won't have to have my phone out when I'm using Apple Maps to find my way around the city. So the past few days, I've been "practicing" around my neighborhood with my watch and with wearing Baby R in a carrier so we can both get used to it. This is so dorky! But I need to be prepared!
Another thing that gives me a lot of anxiety about this trip, and any trip to a big city, is that I have a lot of ridiculous and irrational shame about my discomfort with metropolitan areas. I am not used to using public transit. Crowded places give me a lot of anxiety. I get lost easily. These things make me feel unforgivably unsophisticated. I will always be country-come-to-town. When I'm kind to myself I realize that's charming, but when I'm unkind to myself it makes me feel so small and unforgivably naive, inexperienced, and rural.
(Also, my baby's sleep is going to be CRAZY. My mom and I will be sharing a queen-size bed, and Baby R will be in a pack and play. He's used to the Snoo, so I think I'm going to be up with him a lot. I also think he's going to end up in the bed with me a lot too. I don't think I'm going to get much sleep.)
Anyway, probably this trip is going to be fine. I'm sure there will be some harrowing things about it. I'll be covered in spit-up because Baby R will throw up all over me every day because that's what he does at home. He'll probably have a diaper blowout at an inconvenient time. I'll get lost. I will be very sweaty from nerves and from baby-wearing. Strangers will be mean to me about traveling with a baby (this happens a lot, which is ridiculous). But also strangers will be really nice (this also happens a lot). I will have to be adaptable and calm, two things I struggle with, but I can do it.
And then hopefully, hopefully I will meet some new people and see some old friends and be a fancy writer in New York City for three days. And then after that I will catch a train to Boston and see my brother and sister-in-law and meet my new nephew. AND THEN FINALLY I WILL FLY HOME.
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Excerpt from my Steddie proposal fic. It's so close to being done I can taste it.
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“Robbie! Robster! The Robbiest!”
“What do you want, Eddie?” Robin asked as she let him into her house two weeks after the Byers-Hopper wedding. Eddie shot her an affronted look as he flopped onto her couch. “Don’t give me that look. The nicknames only come out when you need something.”
“Not true,” Eddie countered. “I call you Robs all the time.”
Robin waved her hand. “Yeah but you picked that up from Steve so it doesn’t count. Besides, you’re avoiding the subject, which means it’s something serious.”
“You know me too well, Robs,” Eddie said with a grin. When she simply crossed her arms and stared at him, he huffed out a sigh, dropping his dramatics. “Okay fine, there’s some big news with me and Steve.”
Robin’s eyes widened comically and she finally sat down, bouncing up and down in her excitement. “You’re getting married? Who proposed? And how–”
“Whoa there Roberoo–” Robin made a face at that one and Eddie almost agreed with her there. “–not yet. That’s kind of why I’m here. Joyce figured out a way for us to be official and when I told Steve…well, long story short is we’re in a competition to see who’s proposing first.”
Robin squinted at him as she processed what he was saying, almost waiting for the reveal that it was all a joke. Seconds later, she scoffed and rolled her eyes. “You’re both ridiculous. But you’re also made for each other. So I’m assuming you want help so you’re first?”
“Got it in one!” Eddie said, pointing finger-guns at her.
“Okay, so what’s the plan?”
“No idea!” the finger guns were much less enthusiastic this time. He dropped the act suddenly and added seriously, “I might have implied that it was going to be big and dramatic but that also requires money that I don’t have…so, you know.”
Robin got serious as well. She grabbed his hand. “Eddie,” she said softly, “he won’t care, he just wants something genuine. He knows you love him, no matter how much money you have.”
“I know all that,” Eddie huffed. He took his hand back to rub his face in frustration. “It’s just, like, I want to–I don’t know–shout it from the tallest building in the world that I want to marry him. And obviously that’s out, but getting some shitty ring from a pawn shop and asking him in his living room is…nothing.”
“Okay, I’m just gonna take a second to note how adorable that confession was,” Robin said before actually pausing for a second as Eddie shoved her playfully. “And now, I’m going to argue that the second option is not as terrible as you’re making it seem–don’t give me that look–you just need to dress it up a bit, by which I mean: make it meaningful. Which I’m sure if why you have come to your dear friend Robin, your boyfriend’s bestie, who is going to help you plan this.”
Eddie nodded in agreement, but before he could say anything, Robin stood up.
“But see, the thing is, I’m not the best planner. But you know who is?”
They both answered at the same time. “Nancy.”
Three weeks, ten separate phone calls, and one neatly mailed itemized list later, Eddie had a plan.
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🎶 and 📚!
📚 [Books] Is this WIP part of a series or standalone?
All the fics I am currently writing are standalones. But I am planning to write sequels for the two fics that I have already posted. There's more about potential sunrise laughing sequels in the next question, and I want to write a sequel for Fucking ghosts but it would be Ryan Graves/Brandon Tanev and neither fic would need to be read to understand the other. Just Ryan "ghost fucker" Graves, and Brandon sees ghosts, so the fic needs to exist.
(next question under the cut because it's long)
🎶 [Notes] Do you have any other WIP related things, like moodboards, character portraits, playlists or similar?
Playlists
Yes! I have playlists (I almost forgot I had them😂). One of them is for a specific fic and the others are character based. Actually looking back on them, I have one for a fic that I haven't written. I basically listened to a bunch of tv show songs (Hazbin Hotel and My Little Pony, two very different shows) and my brain was stuck on hockey players, so I made more and more playlists for players that I will probably not write for.
Here's a list of the players/fics I have playlists for:
Jeremy Swayman (6 songs)
Matthew Tkachuk (6 songs)
a fic I started for Pens Angst Fest but obviously didn't finish (3 songs)
Dylan Strome (1 song)
Nolan Patrick (1 song)
this was the runner up idea for Pens Angst Fest that I couldn't help brainstorm, in the notes I wrote "not the changeling one but the stalker one" (1 song)
Auston Matthews (1 song)
Alex Ovechkin (2 songs)
I also have one song that i haven't added to a playlist/made playlist for, but I heard for the first time "The Fine Print" by The Stupenium, and I was just making connections to the NHL and how hockey players basically sell their bodies to the NHL (and all the discussion of CTE recently).
Brainstorms & Lists
I have a doc with some fic ideas that I'm interested in writing, some that I will probably drop, some I might get to. Some are fleshed out with a couple paragraphs, and some are just a sentence. Some of these start out in my phone's notes app, like in the case that it's late at night and I need to get it down.
I have a doc specific for sequel ideas for sunrise laughing with them broken into four separate ideas/fics. Two of them I'm very solid on, and two fluffier, shorter ideas (i'm terrible at guessing length so don't trust that) that I don't have brainrot for but I am interested in writing.
I also have lists of prompts that I found interesting in different fic fests, which two of the fics I'm writing were inspired by prompts (the Pens Angst Fest fic and the Not a Cow Fest- which is actually based on a prompt from There's Only One You Fest).
Tumblr Inspo
I also use tags so I can save stuff that I can use for inspo. Some player names (but also that's just anything I find interesting). I have "fic idea" tag, and I have some tags for some specific fics, some started some not. Those are "nesting swaymark", "pearls fic", "mpreg fic", and "vore fic".
#thank you for the ask!!#If you want to know more feel free to ask. I just can't talk to much about the fic for Not a Cow Fest of Puck Luck Fest because they'll be#anon when revealed for a bit. though the likelihood i'll finish in time is... probably low.#again i cannot judge fic length when i start writing (both for word count and how long it will take me to finish)#asks
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another week and i've still got it so Xmen 97 ep4 time
ok this one is interesting as it's listed as having 2 separate stories. the original did not do that; sure we had multiple plots running at the same time, but we didn't break it up into 15 min parts.
from the title i thought Mojo might be our main villain (of at least half of this), but the description might be Arcade...
the opening clips are Mojo and Shi'ar. huh. also ponytail!Jean
heh Gambit and Erik fighting over Rogue
Longshot plushie neat! i know Mojo left it obviously, so yeah we're Mojo not Arcade. nice, lets see how much fun they make of the Disney execs (since he originally was used to make fun of the Fox execs)
the phone booth ate them Matrix...oooo is each level a different season/plot point? ok i'm into this. "Hot Topic stalker" was that a thing in the 90s? but wow the Mojo voice isn't right but it's not bad. "If you die in the game, you die in real life" ah so it's Stay Alive.
Days of Future past wall! and it wants to be the 8-bit game so bad lol. ok kinda loving this. "I am Magneto" but he didn't say "Master of magnet" or call Jubes an 'X-chicken"!! there's still time...oh no she killed him. drats
oh, Hot Topic reject is digital Old Lady Jubilee. huh. yeah it's the physical representation of the fact that she has to grow up, and that she can but not loose herself, but also can't keep clinging to the past, she gotta grow. good character stuff.
and the love birds kiss to end the half-isode. yeah that was not enough for a full episode, but it wasn't terrible, so i guess i'll give it to them. it was also a good physical metaphor about all us fans watching this and being reminded that the old show is still there bit it is never changing. gotta move forward to keep growing. (if the modern comics would think that way maybe we'd get something good...but i'm not gonna rant about that right now don't worry)
onto the B-story! which has a second half in another episode later? uh...we'll wait to see if that's dumb or not i guess...
oh and i did remember that Forge was in modern times in the original; he was in X-Factor with Polaris and Havoc. he wasn't just in Bishop's future, so that was my bad.
huh, this is like the first time i've ever had Forge's powers explained, aside from Evo that had him be technokinetic.
oh is Shadow King back to tempt Storm to the dark side with powers? The Adversary? is...that a vampire; are we getting Bloodstorm? oh, no that is a character i've never heard of before, huh. ok.
so this too wasn't a full episode worthy, so i get the split-isode...so long as the 2nd part doesn't pick right up at the left off point and we have a time skip. overall this was "what's Storm doing without everyone" and meh, that's ok i guess. it works.
overall, i'd say this is the weakest episode out of the 4 so far, but it's by no means bad. it's still good, we're progressing plot points a bit. dunno why the Shi'ar clips were there at the start, but whatever. the 97 ride is still doing strong.
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I love your spreadsheet because it gives
Character & character
I wish it had Character vs character. Like these characters have a significant scene together but it's negative. Trying to kill each other etc
You were able to say whether some characters were badass, excellent etc. But some characters that you don't really care for, you don't really know whether they're great or not, because they kind of just exist to you. Like for example when you said excellent Sam content to me it was just "eh" because Sam is not important to me
So it got me thinking if any of us have favourite characters that you don't have, can we send in a suggestion?
For example I don't know 100% the characters you don't care about so I will google Spn characters and use the first 10 results as hypothetical examples
For example lets say hypothetically you don't care for Dean, Sam, Cas, Crowley, Bobby, Lucifer, Ruby, John, Meg and Gabriel
But what if stans of any of those characters messaged you like I love x character and think y episode is top tier for them, really rounds out their character or they are central or significant in the episode. In the description you might write x character stans think this episode has great content for x character or they think x character has is central to or significant in the episode but that's separate from my opinion
Maybe if someone is curious like why do people love this character? Or what episodes are central to this character? Or I love the character but it's been awhile what episode of theirs should I rewatch first? They can look at the descriptions and see which descriptions have ( name of character stans ) really love x character scenes in this episode
Sorry if that's a silly or offensive idea
Thank you for your hard work it must have been so much effort
hi!! man it actually took me a minute to figure out which spreadsheet you meant, i have so many. but it's this one! i'm really glad you like it bc knowing people like and use it is basically my only reward, lol.
not to sound like tumblr staff, but even though your ideas aren't bad ones, i seriously doubt i have the capacity to pull them off. "character vs character" as opposed to "character & character" can be a blurry line at times, what with shifting loyalties and general antagonism. and i'd have to go through all 327 episodes from the beginning to pull it off, when i haven't even finished the detailed writeups for season 15 yet 💀 (someday...)
crowdsourcing it isn't a terrible idea either, but then it becomes a "community" project rather than "my" project, and at that rate i'll never be able to call it finished, because everyone would wanna add their 2 cents, and all of that would conflict a lot too, PLUS make the description boxes really long. it's a subjective list by design, and if i added everyone's opinion i think it would be too much information to stay concise and useful.
(that being said i DO accept crowdsourcing for content warnings...those are all so objective and there's so many i'm bound to miss because certain things don't ping for me or because there are certain episodes i don't remember that well bc i just don't like them enough to rewatch them over and over. so i'm always taking suggestions about any content warnings i've missed.)
the good news is a lot of what you want can be found with ctrl+f if you're on a computer. (phones have a similar "find" function.) i tried to list recurring characters, so if you are for example looking for all the bobby episodes, you can ctrl+f "bobby." if you want sam & mary scenes, i tried to write "sam & mary" every time instead of "mary & sam" so you can ctrl+f those. if you're looking for episodes with certain characters, monsters, or written by certain people, the wiki can also help you out, as it was vital to me during the creation of the list.
i DID consider, a long time ago, adding lists to a third tab in the spreadsheet - "essential sam episodes" "funny episodes" "lgbt+ episodes" etc - but i never got around to it bc i gradually made a tiny space in my brain for things besides supernatural and also i got super busy. i think if i ever feel like messing with this spreadsheet again (AFTER i finally finish s15) that's what i'll do, and i MAY take suggestions for list ideas or episodes that should be on that list, but that would be a long time from now, or possibly maybe never.
however, if you have the desire to make such content, you can write a post listing the top 10 mary episodes or whatever, i'm not the final authority on this sort of thing!! have fun with it, yk?
thanks again for loving the spreadsheet <3
#liz answers asks#anonymous#liz watches spn#i am so sad you dont care about sam tho :( what a bummer :(((
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NYE
New year’s eve, Raven and I decided we were driving separately. That worked well for me, because I had made a custom playlist for the drive again, and it was kind of personal and I didn’t really want him and Dolphin to hear it. Falcon came to my house, and I drove us over to Raven’s family’s house. NYE is my favorite holiday with them. It’s just us and one other family, and the adults stay in one room and the kids in another. We make our own pizzas. The kids played games in the back room for a while. Last year we had done a manifestations list of the good things we wanted to happen for 2022. We decided to pull that out and read them. Most people had their manifestations happen, which was really cool. We read them and cheered each time someone accomplished one of their goals. Mine weren’t terrible, which I had kind of anticipated them to be, so that was a win. Then we started working on the burn list. That’s where we write down all the shitty things that happened in the last year, then light it on fire. Normally, we do this as a group activity - where we each shout things out and Koala writes them down. This year I brought my own notebook, because I had a lot of shitty things to write down. I filled two pages, which was about the same as everyone else collectively. I spent several minutes writing mine all down, then read them out to everyone. I also secretly included 3 people - Raven, Dolphin, and #5. Then we did manifestations. We each chose around 3-4 things to manifest for the upcoming year. I manifested: Money, buying a house, healthy relationships, and more tattoos. Falcon manifested: Getting into grad school, getting a new job, and something else that I can’t remember anymore. We burned last year’s manifestations list, and the burn lists.
It was about midnight by then, so we went inside to watch the count down. We each had a glass of champagne and did a toast. Falcon didn’t lean in for a kiss at midnight, and I didn’t know what to do, so I didn’t either. I saw his watch light up as #1 and #5 both texted him - #5 sending two kiss face emojis. He glanced at his watch, but didn’t pull out his phone, but didn’t kiss me then either. We left shortly after that and went back to my house. He came inside for a while, and we laid on my bed and talked. He didn’t want to have sex. I asked and he said he wasn’t going to spend the night. We did kiss then, so I still got his first kiss of the new year, it just wasn’t when or how I expected.
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Favorite Characters Tag Game
Rules: List your favorite character from 10 different fandoms and then tag 10 people.
Tagged by: @aseaofhoney I LOVE exhibiting behavior thank you
I have so much to say bc they altered my brain chemistry
Ianto Jones from Torchwood: All time favorite character for as long as I can remember. The blueprint. I’ve visited his shrine in Cardiff and I will again. Soul-bonded with him when I watched him discover his sexuality while I was struggling with my own like ten years ago... He makes mistakes and cares deeply and is impeccably sarcastic and I could cry but anyways
Jack Rackham from Black Sails: THE man in my phone case <3 On Fathoms Deep (Black Sails Podcast), they asked which character loves the best. And one person said EXACTLY what I was thinking when she answered with Jack's iconic, “Darling? I can understand why you wouldn’t want to tell me about this, but please know that all I have ever wanted for you is to be happy" line. I'm infatuated
Jem Carstairs from The Infernal Devices: Genuinely set the standard for love and love interests in any book ever. The scene where he punches Will in the face is on loop in my brain + I have his proposal speech memorized
Magnus Bane from The Mortal Instruments: Specifically, Book Magnus. He is such a FUN character, while being dynamic and complex. Eccentric bisexual warlock of all time. On my mind since like .. idk 2011? I miss him maybe I'll reread
Richard Gansey III from The Raven Cycle: He put their refrigerator in the bathroom. He loves his friends but didn't even notice that one of them was a ghost the whole time bc he was distracted by hyperfixations. I feel so normal and sane
Donna Noble from Doctor Who: THE companion of all time. Has impeccable platonic chemistry with 10. Not only is she the funniest, but she’s also got an incredible arc ?? Her season 4 ending was the most impactful moment in DW for me, I rewatch Journey’s End so often I love agony
Diego Hargreeves from The Umbrella Academy: A dramatic petty bitch who loves his mom and his siblings so much, but has a hard time expressing love!!! He is such a dork but also hot
Aziraphale from Good Omens: They rly created a nervous angel with ethical dilemmas, an appreciation for humanity, identity crises, a flare for the dramatic, and a cute book store. for me.
Wanda (Wanderer) from The Host: My Alien Girlfriend. She is the reason this book is THE scifi of all time. Her perspective is so genuine but never boring. she cares so much. anyways Mel should have just fucked off and let Wanda have her body idc
Wolfgang from Sense8: It was so hard to pick just one from this show bc I love them all a LOT but I get so excited when he’s on screen. he’s either gonna be goofy and in love OR he’s going to blow someone up with a rocket launcher <3
Tagging: @adamfaerish @starlessaints @enjolrac @1327-1 @kindred-aquarian @tokillamockinjay and anyone else who wants to do it!
#this took me all day bc it was so hard to choose but it was so fun#not being able to choose every single Black Sails character was excruciating#I also had to make a separate list on my phone of all the Terrible Characters that are my favorite like Kendall Roy or Izzy Hands#bc the VIBE is so different for my favorite Worst Guys .. to put them on the same list as Ianto Jones? I don't think so#tag games#mine#long post#tbh Gansey and Noah are tied as my faves but I had to choose the boy thats been on my mind the most lately
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greedy | myg x reader | chapter five: do we look like recruiters to you?
summary: being a loner has never bothered yoongi until now. until you.
pairing: yoongi x reader
genre: mafia AU, pining, eventual smut
rating: 18+
word count: 6.7K
notes: thank you all so much for rolling with the changes to my posting schedule. it’s been a while since i posted an update and i really wanted to give you guys a chapter. plus it makes more sense, in my mind to break it out like this. in this chapter, you’ll notice that ko starts calling OC “jagiya.” thank you to the korean reader who brought to my attention that my previous nickname for her didn’t fit as well as this one!
anyway, you guys make me endlessly happy with your feedback on this story. i’d love to hear what you think of this chapter. beta read by @hobi-gif because i would wither away without her analysis. also beta’d by the awesome @btsarmy9593 who has been so awesome to give me her feedback. thank you to @augustbutwinter for the words of encouragement. and of course, the boos @ladyartemesia and @untaemedqueen pitched in to help me in this journey as well.
Chapter 01 | 02 | 03 | 04 | 05 | 06 | EPILOGUE
*************************
Min Yoongi wakes up with a problem. Well a few problems, actually.
The first is that he has to pee.
The second is the head-to-toe pain that starts to register the moment his sluggish brain kicks into gear. He starts from the bottom -- gingerly wiggling his toes, carefully stretching his legs -- and slowly works his way up, taking mental inventory of what hurts and what doesn’t.
A lot of shit is landing on the hurts list right now.
The third problem -- and perhaps the most pressing -- is the problem pressing into his side right now.
Your hair is still damp.
Yoongi noses into it and lies in the quiet for a while, breathing you in while you sleep. You smell like his shampoo and his soap. You’re wearing his t-shirt and basketball shorts. You are covered in him; fitted to him. Solid and warm and real.
Which brings him to his next problem.
This is the kind of feeling that’s way too easy to become addicted to. The kind of feeling that makes you do stupid shit. Take away the mangled body and the looming safety concerns and this is easily the best morning of his life.
That’s why when you stir and burrow a bit deeper into his side, Yoongi ignores the pain radiating from his sore ribs. He ignores the way his arm has fallen asleep under you, ignores the intermittent buzzing of his phone from the nightstand warning of missed texts.
He ignores the tiny voice in his head that says don’t get attached to this feeling.
Yoongi ignores everything but you and this because right now, it’s the only thing he wants to think about.
And then he’s drifting off again.
***************************
This time, Yoongi wakes up alone.
The deep steadying breath he takes while he’s trying to work up the nerve to get out of bed hurts like hell.
Everything hurts like hell, actually -- the back of his head where he can feel scrapes left behind by the brick wall, his jaw from where he took that driller to the face. His knee from where he jammed it into that fucking goon’s stomach.
But his shoulder is what’s really fucking everything up right now.
He can’t remember telling you where to find the sling or how you got it on. Can’t remember you positioning his pillows around his injured arm or slipping into bed beside him. He’d been so fucked up by the pain and the adrenaline withdrawal that he’s pretty sure he blacked out at some point.
So Yoongi lies there for a minute, trying to piece together what he can remember of last night.
The memories come back to him blurred and disjointed, out of order.
He remembers feeling like he might vomit when you shoved his shoulder back into place. Awkwardly accepting your help taking off his jeans so he could shower. Nearly falling to his knees under the hot water. Pulling himself together long enough to stash his gun in a drawer when you’d stepped away.
And it’s that last memory that makes his chest go tight.
Last night, hiding his gun seemed like the right thing to do. A way to keep you separate from the ugliness he normalized a long time ago. But this morning the half-assed lie of omission makes him feel guilty as hell. A pathetic attempt to delay the inevitable. Chewing gum jammed into the crack of a dam.
He has to tell you about that gun.
So he gets to work on dragging his ass out of bed. It takes him way too damned long to sit upright, way too damned long to slide himself off the edge of the mattress. Longer than that to slowly limp his way into the bathroom where he pees for what feels like a solid ten minutes.
He’s still rubbing the sleep from his eyes when he spots the bright red toothbrush sitting in the cup on his sink.
It’s just some cheap throwaway he brought home after his last visit to the dentist -- a long-forgotten backup that’s been stashed in the cabinet under the bathroom counter for months. But now it’s sitting out in the open, in that cup. Right next to his own blue one.
Yoongi stares at it and scrubs a hand over his face.
And that tiny voice in his head gets a bit louder.
************************
He finds you seated at his piano, bare-faced and hair tousled. Fingers tracing light patterns across the keys of his custom instrument, gaze taking in all of the tiny details he paid a small fortune for.
He could have stayed there for a while, just appreciating the view had you not caught him staring.
Your dark eyes flick up to find his and Yoongi’s pulse quickens at the warmth in them. At the soft, shy smile that comes over you just before you clear your throat and lower your eyes back to the keys.
“Beautiful,” you sigh.
No kidding, Yoongi thinks.
He crosses the room slowly. Tries his hardest not to limp but the throb in his knee makes that nearly impossible. Sadness flashes across your face as you watch him sink heavily onto the bench beside you.
“I can help you, you know,” you admonish softly.
Yoongi shrugs, motioning to the sling. “You already have.”
He stills when you reach one hand out to brush your fingertips across the redness on his jaw. You stroke your thumb across his aching cheek and Yoongi leans into the touch, savoring the feeling of your skin against his.
“Yoongi,” you whisper, “I’m so sorry you’re hurt, and -- ” you pause to shake your head sadly, “-- and I’m so sorry it’s because I put you in this position.”
Yoongi sucks in a deep breath.
He can’t bring himself to tell you that he can’t think straight when he imagines what could have happened if that fucking goon had gotten you alone. Can’t bring himself to admit out loud that he could have pulled his gun and ended that piece of shit without losing a second of sleep.
Would have, had you not been there.
“Better me than you, Doc,” he says thickly. “You made the right call.”
You press a gentle kiss to his throbbing jaw.
“You still mad at me?”
You whisper the words into the shell of Yoongi’s ear and a slow heat builds in his gut.
“Yeah,” he lies, dropping a kiss on the delicate skin below your jaw. He ghosts the tip of his nose against the curve of your neck and you shudder under his touch. He’s forced to check himself, leaning back for a few inches of badly-needed space.
On the bright side, at least his dick isn’t broken, too.
He clears his throat. “If that guy had brought backup -- ”
“ -- If that guy had brought backup, he’d have been out of the car long before you left his buddy in a pile on the floor,” you interrupt gently.
Yoongi chuckles. “Just admit you’re terrible at following directions.”
“You happen to have your MRI results around here anywhere? I’d be interested to see what they say about that shoulder.”
You raise one brow when Yoongi narrows his eyes at you in response. “No? Well, then I guess I’m not the only one who’s bad at following directions.”
“Guess not,” Yoongi admits with a smile.
Your turn your attention back to his piano, touch reverent as you slide one hand across the rich black lacquer.
“When you first walked in, I was going to say something really dumb like do you play?” you admit with a laugh. “But no one owns something this magnificent unless they have a passion for it.”
“Yeah, I play,” Yoongi murmurs. “When I have two functioning arms.”
He’d intended to earn a laugh with that tease, but the joke falls flat. Sadness creeps back into your features.
“Yoongi,” you say quietly, gaze dropping into your lap. “I honestly don’t know what would have happened to me last night without you. And all I can think about this morning is why? Why did you do this for me?”
Fuck, that’s a loaded question.
If Yoongi had the balls, he’d tell you straight up that he fell for you the moment he laid eyes on you at Songdo . That you feel like his chance at something more. But Yoongi doesn’t say any of that.
Instead, he coughs up a weak white lie.
“We’re both out here flying solo Doc. We have to look out for each other. Besides -- ” he tips your chin up with a gentle press of his fingers and finds your dark eyes glassy with unshed tears. “ -- I have a thing for that smart mouth of yours.”
He earns a tiny smile from you then, just the slightest curve of your lips. And he’s this close to kissing the soft, sad expression right off your face when that voice in his mind fucks everything up again.
Tell her about the gun.
The thought is like a bucket of cold water over his head, jarring him from the intimacy of this moment. Yoongi swallows thickly before opening his mouth to tell you the truth. But before he can speak, you do.
“I have something of yours,” you say, reaching into the pocket of your borrowed basketball shorts. Yoongi watches you produce a worn handmade bracelet and holds his palm open to accept it. “It fell out of your jacket last night,” you explain.
He rubs his thumb over the smooth metal corners of the cross that dangles from aged leather. It brings back the memory of his baptism -- of the day Mrs. Bak proudly gifted it to him while he was still damp from the ceremony. It also brings back the memory of last night -- when he’d clutched it between his fingers and sent a silent plea for protection skyward.
It’s been a long time since he’s prayed. It’s been a long time since he had anything to pray for.
“Are you religious?” you ask softly.
Yoongi shakes his head. “Honestly? I don’t know.” A self-conscious heat creeps up his neck. “Just makes me feel better, I guess. Is that dumb?”
“No,” you reassure quietly, bringing one warm hand up to cup his cheek. Yoongi covers your hand with his, laces his fingers in between yours. “Not dumb at all.”
Tell her about the gun.
“Doc,” Yoongi whispers thickly, “We need to talk about something.”
Your hand falls away from his face and your spine goes stiff with tension and Yoongi almost loses his nerve.
Almost.
“Okay, so I was, uh -- carrying a gun last night,” he starts, rubbing awkwardly at the back of his neck, “I carry a gun all the time, actually. I hid it because I didn’t want to freak you out.”
You say nothing, expression unreadable. And Yoongi keeps talking.
“But I don’t want to keep things from you,” he says quietly. “I want you to know exactly who I am. No half-truths.”
Your eyes drop back down to the piano. You pluck at one of the keys and a somber note rings out, lingers in the air between you before you speak.
“You have a gunshot wound in your back, Yoongi,” you murmur. “It’s not exactly a leap of logic. Besides, I already saw your gun. It was in your drawer last night when I got you a change of clothes.”
Yoongi nods slowly, processing the fact that you’d discovered the gleaming silver piece and hadn’t written him off right away. You’d still slept in the crook of his arm last night. You’re still here right now.
“And yeah, maybe it does freak me out a bit,” you admit. “But after what I saw last night, maybe I can understand a bit, too.”
Yoongi lets go of the breath he’s been holding and takes your hand in his. Maybe is as good as he could have hoped for at this point. Maybe is not a dead end.
“I have something to tell you, too,” you admit after a moment. “I’m due at the hospital in a few hours.”
“Doc,” Yoongi groans, hand tightening reflexively around yours. “You can’t go back there.”
“I don’t have a choice,” you insist, pulling away. “This isn’t just some job I fell into, Yoongi. This is years of my life.”
Yoongi is quiet for a few seconds, willing his rising agitation to subside. He’s careful to check his tone before he speaks.
“You’re not safe there.”
“I have to go back. I don’t have a choice,” you repeat. “I can’t afford to get blacklisted and Lee is still my boss. And if he’s already got wind of what happened last night, he’s going to be gunning for me even harder than he already has been. I have to tread carefully.”
Yoongi shoves a hand through his hair.
“You have to meet me in the middle here, Doc,” he exhales. “There’s got to be something halfway between you walking right back into that hellhole and you losing your job. Take a couple of sick days. Give me some time to figure out who your boss is working with and what I can do about it. Can you do that?”
You’re quiet for a moment as you consider his proposal.
“Yeah,” you concede softly. “I can do that.”
You lift a hand to brush a lock of hair out of his face and press your mouth to his.
Every cell in Yoongi’s body stands at attention. He cards his fingers into the soft mass of your hair and kisses you slowly -- carefully -- all too aware of the way he’d manhandled you last night.
Not even the pain in his jaw could take away from how good it feels to touch you like this. Not even the ache in his ribs could stop him from leaning into you. He slips his tongue past your lips and you whimper, fingers curling into his sore knee.
He could not give a shit.
Yoongi leaves your mouth to trail kisses down your jaw, and you tip your head back, offering him the soft expanse of your neck. He accepts it gladly, mouth hot and open on your skin, savoring your scent and taste -- enjoying the way he can feel your pulse fluttering wildly under his lips.
He’s enjoying it all so much that he gets careless. The elbow of his injured arm connects with the sharp edge of the piano and he recoils instantly.
“Dammit,” he groans. “Fuck.”
“Oh, shit,” you gasp, clapping a hand over your mouth.
The pain is so potent it seems to radiate all the way from his arm to his temples. Yoongi squeezes his eyes shut as he waits for the ringing in his ears to subside.
“Yoongi, your shoulder, it's -- it’s really bad,” you admonish quietly. “If you keep going like this, the damage is going to be permanent.”
“Trust me, I know,” he sighs. “I’m going to get this looked at, I just haven’t.”
“I want you to see a friend of mine at Asan today,” you urge. “He’s a good doctor. He can get you some pain relief. Get you back to working condition.”
Yoongi nods weakly, pain still ebbing from his arm.
“But it’s not a substitute for an MRI and it’s not a substitute for surgery,” you warn. “This is just a temporary fix. You have to be careful. Whatever you’re planning, just please be careful.”
Yoongi skates the pad of his thumb over your lips before kissing you just one more time.
“Don’t worry about me, Doc,” he murmurs. “I’m going to have some help.”
**************************
It’s amazing what a pair of high-powered steroid shots and a bottle of industrial-strength painkillers can do for a guy.
Yoongi pulls into the parking lot at Maekju feeling almost human again.
If the text messages that have been blowing up his phone all afternoon are any indication, everyone is here tonight. Everyone with the exception of Namjoon, of course. He doesn’t drink anymore and even when he did, he always preferred to drink alone.
Jungkook is the first person Yoongi spots, leaned up against a pool table, beer in hand. He’s watching Jimin and Taehyung face off at billiards while Seokjin and Hoseok sit side-by-side at the bar, deep in conversation.
The maknae’s eyes go a bit wide when he takes in Yoongi’s unusual gait and immobilized arm.
“Holy shit, hyung,” he breathes as Yoongi approaches. “What the hell happened to you?”
Seokjin whips around in his barstool at the sound of Jungkook’s greeting, but Hoseok doesn’t take the bait. He stiffens in his seat but refuses to turn around. Stubborn bastard.
“Yoga accident,” Yoongi mutters, stepping up to the bar next to Seokjin. The older man smirks as he takes a long pull of his beer.
“How’d you drive with that thing on?” Seokjin asks, motioning to Yoongi’s sling.
“Carefully,” Yoongi says dryly. “Listen, can you give me a minute with Jung here?”
Seokjin’s critical gaze bounces back and forth between Yoongi and Hoseok, who is still resolutely pretending not to notice the conversation taking place just inches from his face. He stares into a television mounted high above the bar and sips his whiskey with feigned indifference.
“You two need couple’s counseling, I swear,” Seokjin groans, rolling his eyes. He stands to his feet to relinquish his barstool and claps a hand over Yoongi’s good shoulder. “I’ll leave you to it, then.”
Hoseok, the fucking infant, grabs a newspaper abandoned on the bartop and proceeds to pretend to read it. Yoongi slides into the stool next to him anyway.
“Miss me?”
Hoseok doesn’t answer.
“You’re not gonna say hello? Not gonna ask me why it looks like I spent all night falling off a cliff?”
“Nope.”
Yoongi waves off the bartender who starts walking in his direction. The last thing he needs is a drink. He’s got so many painkillers in his system right now that one sip of booze would probably have him under the bar in seconds.
“Come on Hoseok,” Yoongi sighs. “Don’t be a dick. I’ve literally never seen you read a newspaper.”
“I like to stay informed,” Hoseok shrugs.
“Well, I’m trying to talk to you.”
“Oh, so you talk to me now?” Hoseok snickers. “That’s new.”
Hoseok’s probably earned the right to his petulance, but that doesn’t make it any less annoying. Yoongi starts to reconsider that drink.
“Jung,” he groans. “I’m trying to apologize here.”
“So apologize then.”
“Fine,” Yoongi mutters. “I’m sorry I’ve been an asshole lately. I’ve been twisted up over some shit that has nothing to do with you or family business.”
Hoseok grabs his whiskey off the bar and finally -- finally -- pivots to face him.
“A giant asshole,” he corrects dryly.
“Yes. A giant asshole,” Yoongi repeats. “We good now?”
Hoseok sips his whiskey slowly, eyes narrowed at Yoongi over the lip of his glass.
“Buy me a drink.”
“Fine,” Yoongi hisses, flagging the bartender.
Hoseok leans back in his barstool, looking a bit smug.
“Now this shit you’ve been twisted up about,” he starts, brow cocked. “Would this have anything to do with your secret doctor friend?”
“Maybe,” Yoongi admits, scratching at the back of his neck. His injured shoulder is tired from carrying the extra weight of the sling. He rolls it gingerly as Hoseok looks on.
“Would this have anything to do with why you look like you got jumped on your way in here tonight?”
Yoongi’s cheeks warm at his partner’s blunt observation. “Maybe.”
Hoseok drains his whiskey just as the bartender arrives with a fresh one. He takes a long drink before setting his glass back down on the bar. His lips purse thoughtfully as he levels Yoongi with a long, assessing look.
“Okay,” he says calmly. “So who do we have to go fuck up?”
**************************
Dr. Lee Geon just looks like a fucking weasel.
Yoongi glares at the man as he strolls into the coffee shop a few blocks from Songdo with just minutes to spare to his shift.
Lee bears little resemblance to his photos on the hospital website.
He’s thin -- just this side of gaunt -- hollow cheeks prominent below dark under eyes beneath a sparse dusting of greasy hair. Were he not dressed in a rumpled lab coat and equally creased scrubs, Yoongi might have missed him entirely.
Across the room, Hoseok peers at Yoongi over the top of yet another borrowed newspaper -- is this the guy? -- and Yoongi answers with a furtive nod.
He goes over the plan they’d worked out in the car in his head. They’d find the guy -- make sure he was the guy -- and then follow him out of the shop. Catch him just before he got into his car. Shake him up a bit before shaking him down for information.
There’s one thing Yoongi still hasn’t worked out, though.
Just how much he’s going to allow himself to hurt this asshole before sending him on his way. Lee slowly shuffles his way to the front of the line as Yoongi imagines jamming his fist into the man’s stupid fucking face. Imagines doing it over and over again until the piece of shit is unrecognizable.
Yoongi watches Lee order his drink as he kneads at the tender muscles of his shoulder.
Ditching the sling was probably a bad idea -- definitely against doctor’s orders -- but it was a risk he was more than willing to take. He’d downed a couple of painkillers and shoved his shoulder into a brace and decided he could deal with the dull throb just for the night.
No way in hell he was going to confront this scumbag looking like some kid who just fell off his skateboard.
It doesn’t take long for the barista to put together Lee’s drink. He grabs his coffee and Yoongi tenses in anticipation of his next move. But instead of heading for the exit, Lee heads for the bathroom instead.
Yoongi locks eyes with Hoseok across the room and Hoseok raises one brow.
Change of plans?
Yoongi nods.
*****************************
Lee’s coffee sits abandoned atop the sink ledge.
Yoongi and Hoseok slip silently into the bathroom and get right to work. Hoseok blocks the door as Yoongi quietly creeps past the stalls, ducking his head to peer beneath each one. Lee’s scuffed sneakers are the only pair of shoes he spots.
His ears pick up on a faint sound coming from inside the locked stall.
It’s a kind of soft, intermittent rasping. Yoongi concentrates on the noise, isolates it until he comes to the realization that it’s sniffling he’s hearing. He turns to Hoseok and taps his finger against the side of his nose and Hoseok nods his agreement.
Yoongi shakes his head in disgust. Is there a single substance this idiot isn’t addicted to?
It takes a moment for the sniffling to subside. It’s followed by a few seconds of quiet rustling in which Yoongi can picture Lee carefully pocketing whatever’s left of his coke. The noises from behind the brushed steel barrier finally stop and the next thing Yoongi hears is the distinct clink of the latch coming apart.
Lee swings the door wide -- gets one look at what’s waiting for him on the other side -- and nearly jumps out of his skin.
He startles so hard that he almost falls backward into the toilet. But he catches himself, regaining his balance and staring back at Yoongi with wide, worried eyes.
Yoongi stands there and says nothing.
“Excuse me,” Lee mumbles, eyeing him wearily as he tries to slide past. He takes two steps forward then stops in his tracks when he spots Hoseok. Lee swallows thickly, eyes darting back and forth between both men.
“Is there a problem gentlemen?” he croaks.
Yoongi takes a step towards Lee. He shrinks back when Yoongi reaches for his badge, yanking the retractable cord as he pulls it close to examine it. Yoongi runs his thumb over the raised lettering on the laminated card, letting the taut silence linger for dramatic effect.
Then he lets go of the badge without warning, fighting a smile when Lee flinches as it snaps back into place.
“Yes, we have a problem,” Yoongi confirms pleasantly. “And yes, it’s you.”
The little color left in Lee’s face immediately drains out.
“Look, I don’t know who you guys are, but you don’t w-want to mess with me,” he stammers, voice cracking comically halfway through his flimsy threat. “I know people.”
“Oh shit,” Yoongi’s eyes go wide with feigned concern, “You hear that, Jung? This guy knows people.”
“Sounds scary,” Hoseok chuckles.
Lee starts to breathe harder, chest rising and falling faster. Pupils blown with fear and coke.
“Now, here’s the difference between you and us, Dr. Lee,” Yoongi explains calmly. “You know people. But we -- ” he motions to himself and then to Hoseok, “ -- are people . Do you understand what I’m trying to say here?”
Yoongi punctuates his point by brushing the edge of his open leather jacket aside, allowing his pistol to peek out from underneath. Lee’s eyes lock on it as he nods slowly, pulling deep, noisy breaths through his nose.
“Great. Now we don’t have to play the game where you pretend not to know about the bullshit you’ve been pulling over at the hospital, right?”
Lee shakes his head slowly.
“So that means we also don’t have to play the game where you pretend you didn’t send some fucking street goon to rough up a little old lady, either. Right?”
The man’s mouth drops open like his first instinct is to deny that accusation. But he steals another look at Hoseok and shuts it instead.
“And then -- ” Yoongi jabs Lee in the chest with one finger and the man jumps back, “-- you tried to send that same goon after your own resident. But here’s the thing, Doctor Lee. She knows people, too.”
Lee’s body goes rigid. Yoongi watches him process the information with his drug-addled brain, a flare of recognition finally sparking in his dull eyes.
“I saw you at the hospital,” Lee whispers. “You know her.”
“Don’t worry about who I know,” Yoongi shrugs. “Worry about what you’re going to say in your resignation letter.”
He advances on the man again, closing the space between them. Lee tries to back away, but he runs out of room. He tilts against the stall door.
“Resignation letter?” he echoes weakly.
“The one you’re turning in tonight,” Yoongi explains coolly. “Before you get the fuck out of Songdo and then get the fuck out of Seoul.”
Lee sputters for a moment, grasping for his next words.
“Well, where am I supposed to go?” he bleats.
“Do we look like recruiters to you, man?” Hoseok cuts in sharply. “We don’t give a shit where you go -- you just have to go. You sure this guy is a doctor, Min? He seems way too dumb to be a doctor.”
“Nah. This guy’s a junkie pretending to be a doctor,” Yoongi accuses, dropping any pretense of good humor. “Pretending to be a tough guy, too. But all of that ends tonight.”
Yoongi grabs Lee by the chin, jerking his head into place and forcing the trembling man to look him in the eye.
“In ten minutes, you’re going to walk your ass into that hospital. You’re going to tell them you are leaving. You are going to take that piece of shit pharmacist and anyone else who’s involved with you. And then you are never going to step foot in this city again.”
He pauses to enjoy the way Lee’s pupils dilate even wider with fear.
“You’re not too high to understand what I’m saying to you right now, right?”
Lee shakes his head weakly, jaw still pinned in Yoongi’s vice grip.
“Great. Now just one more thing before you go on your merry way,” Yoongi says, voice low with menace. “Give us the name of your street guys.”
Lee panics. “I can’t,” he whines from between compressed cheeks. “They’ll kill me.”
Yoongi grips his face tighter, crushing the man’s jaw and using it to push his body flush against the stall. His fingers and knuckles turn white with the force of his grasp and Lee groans weakly at the pain.
“I will kill you,” Yoongi seethes. “Me. Right fucking now with my bare fucking hands if you don’t give me that name.”
Lee is sweating so profusely that Yoongi wonders briefly if he’s having a heart attack. He’s probably got enough coke in his system for that to be an actual concern. But the pathetic little shit manages to pull himself together long enough to follow directions.
“Kkangpae,” he wheezes.
Yoongi’s iron grip stays in place, even as he turns to Hoseok, even as both men exchange a look. That is something he did not see coming. Perhaps his recent personal issues are family business, after all.
He finally releases Lee’s jaw and the man rears back, breathing hard.
“You have exactly one day to get the fuck out of this city,” Yoongi instructs quietly. “And that is not an offer I’m prepared to make twice.”
Lee licks his dry lips, nodding his head slowly like he’s just come out of a trance. “Okay.”
“Great chat,” Yoongi smiles, patting Lee’s cheek.
Hoseok leaves his post at the door to cross the cramped bathroom and reach for the coffee Lee abandoned minutes ago. Both men watch in silence as he turns it up over the sink, pours it out, and then tosses it in the trash.
He heads back to the door and holds it open.
“Damn Hoseok,” Yoongi murmurs as he brushes past. “That was cold.”
*********************************
YOU
There’s buzzing. Of that, you’re sure.
But in those first few moments that you’re rousing, you can’t be sure if you’re hearing it or dreaming it. You’re disoriented. It’s the second time in as many days you’ve woken up in an unfamiliar bed.
Shafts of sunlight pour through the blinds and you squint at them, trying to get a sense of the time of day. If the amber tinge is any indication, it’s late into the afternoon.
The buzzing sounds again.
You roll to your side to grab your cell phone off the nightstand and blink at a long list of waiting texts.
ko: wake up sleeping beauty [ 11:36 AM ]
ko: i have news [ 11:45 AM ]
ko: big news [ 12:22 PM ]
ko: and gaeran tost-u [ 1:02 PM ]
ko: ready for you to wake up now [ 1:43 PM ]
ko: don’t mind me just gonna bang a few pots and pans [ 2:11 PM ]
Any curiosity over Ko’s big news is overshadowed by the way your heart drops when none of those messages is from Yoongi.
Before you’d left his apartment, he’d asked you to stay. He’d cleared his throat and looked down at his hands and explained that he’d feel better if you weren’t alone until this entire mess was settled. But the way he looked at you in those last few minutes together made you feel like his proposition was about much more than just your protection.
It made you want to say yes.
Never mind that it’s insane to feel so at home in his personal space -- or that coming to that realization might have sent you into a mild panic. In the end, you’d had to say no because you couldn’t bring yourself to leave Ko on her own while this madness played out.
You rub the sleep out of your eyes and fire off two quick texts.
you: i hope you’re okay. please be careful [ 2:33 PM ]
you: up now. be down in five [ 2:34 PM ]
**************************
Ko makes good on her promise of gaeran tost-u.
You’re greeted by the pleasant smell of the sugared egg dish as you walk down the stairs. Ko sits at her kitchen table, eyes shining with excitement, and pushes a plate at you when you slide into the chair across from hers.
“Eat,” she orders sweetly. Your stomach rumbles on cue and you waste no time digging in.
“This is really good,” you declare around a mouthful of bread and eggs. “I might have to live with you forever.”
Ko smiles wide and the expression makes you feel warm from the inside out. The bruising on her face is barely visible now, easily hidden with a little makeup. Her eyes crinkle with happiness as she watches you eat without saying a word.
“Alright,” you sigh, loathe to stop eating even for as long as it takes to speak. “Spill it. You look fit to burst.”
“Thought you’d never ask,” she complains cheerfully. “Dr. Lee is gone. Walked into Songdo last night and walked out forever.”
You gasp halfway through your next bite, sputtering as you try to catch your breath around a mouthful of toasted bread. Ko stands to grab you a glass of water which you gratefully accept.
“Well, don’t die on me now,” she teases, “Because there’s more. Nang left, too. And Tuan and Beom from pathology. All four of them quit without even so much as a notice, Jagi. Isn’t that wild?”
You sip your water slowly and Ko’s eyes flash as she watches you.
“Yoo called me early this morning and said the entire hospital is talking about it. There’s a bunch of crazy theories going around. And here I am, drinking my tea. Thinking about how you took a few sick days and showed up here. Thinking about how healthy and rested you look right now. Isn’t that interesting?”
You nod, jamming the sandwich back in your mouth for an obnoxiously large bite.
“And I can’t help but wonder if there’s some connection between this very convenient development and my very sweet, secretive friend.”
Ko’s mouth twists into a teasing smile as you chew your food absurdly slow.
“That sandwich isn’t going to last forever, Jagi,” she says dryly. She lifts her teacup to her mouth and takes a dainty sip. “And trust me, I have nothing but time.”
She leans back, cup in hand.
“Okay, so I might know something about it,” you admit after a while. “But there’s still a lot I don’t know. And I’m not sure how much of this you want to hear.”
Ko tuts under her breath.
“I want to hear it all. I’ve got quite a few years on you and trust me, very little shocks me anymore. So now you spill it.”
You take another sip of water and clear your throat.
“Okay,” you exhale. “So there’s this guy -- ”
“ -- Oh, I love it when stories start like this,” Ko interrupts. She props her chin up with her hands like you’re telling a bedtime story and you shake your head with a wry smile.
“He’s been kind of… helping me, I guess.”
“Helping you,” Ko echoes. “As in helping you out of your clothes?”
“No,” you deny hotly, cheeks warming. “He’s a friend.”
Ko doesn’t bother to call you out on the weak lie. But her face says what her mouth doesn’t when one skeptical brow raises high.
“Go on.”
“I told him about what was going on at the hospital and he said he could help me,” you explain slowly. “So I’m pretty sure he figured out a way to run off Lee and Nang.”
Ko taps her finger against the side of her teacup.
“So let me see if I have this right,” she muses. “You tell this friend -- who you’ve never once mentioned, by the way -- that you’ve been having this very dangerous trouble at work. And then your friend somehow manages to convince two grown men who’ve worked at Songdo for years to give up their high-paying jobs and up-front access to IV drugs overnight.”
You shift uncomfortably in your chair.
“And just like that -- ” Ko snaps her fingers for emphasis, “ -- they’re gone without so much as a fuss.”
You nod weakly.
“Jagi,” Ko’s voice drops low. “I take it your friend’s not a mailman, is he?”
“No,” you mumble. “Definitely not.”
Ko hums under her breath. She carefully lifts her teacup to drink, eyes trained on you over the rim. Her quiet scrutiny makes you anxious.
“Can I ask you a question?” she asks after a long pause.
“If I said no would that stop you?”
“Not a chance,” Ko laughs. “Would this friend happen to be the mysterious, handsome man who asked for you in the ER a few weeks back?”
Mind like a steel trap, this woman. You should have known Ko would make that connection and fast. There’s no point in denying it, so you don’t.
“Yes,” you whisper thickly. “He is.”
It’s hard to get a read on Ko’s reaction. Over the years, you’ve come to rely on her sweetness and wisdom and warmth. But now, as you stare into her dark eyes and try to interpret her careful expression, you realize there’s something else you need from her.
Her approval.
“Ko, I think I -- ” you pause to choose your words carefully, “ -- I think I might be in really deep with this guy.”
Ko snorts.
“Oh, I think you might be right about that, Jagiya . And if he’s helping you with something like this? Chances are, you’re not alone.”
“Yeah,” you exhale, wringing your hands together beneath the table. “Thing is -- I need you to tell me I’m not making a mistake here.”
The corners of Ko’s mouth lift into a soft expression of surprise.
“Oh, Jagi,” she chides sweetly. “You know I can’t tell you that. I don’t know anything about this man.” She reaches across the table to cover your hand with her own. “But you do. You’re the only one who knows how you feel about him. And you’re the only one who knows if he’s a good man underneath it all.”
Ko squeezes your hand and you turn your head before she can see the tears that threaten in your eyes. The amber sunlight outside her kitchen window is shifting orange now, flares of light reflecting off the glass.
You stare at them and think about Yoongi.
Until now, it’s like you’ve been splitting him into two different men -- the bruised, bloody con artist from the exam room and the quiet, teasing flirt from the coffee shop. Until now, it’s been the only way to reconcile your complicated feelings.
But it's well past time you accepted the truth.
The same Yoongi whose cheeks had pinked when he’d asked you to stay is the same Yoongi you watched beat the shit out of a hired thug. The Yoongi who carries a cross is the Yoongi who carries a gun. They’re two halves of one whole.
And you can’t pine for one and reject the other.
Your cell phone buzzes from the pocket of your pajama pants. You reach for it, relief coursing through you when you spot Yoongi’s name on the screen.
yoongi: one more thing to do before we can talk [ 3:01 PM ]
yoongi: it’s cold outside, be sure to bundle up [ 3:01 PM ]
Yoongi’s random mention of the weather confuses you. You stare at the texts and Ko stares at you, concerned by the baffled expression on your face.
“Is something wrong?”
“No, no,” you insist, shaking your head. “Just, um -- ”
Bundle up. A tingle runs up the length of your spine as realization slowly creeps over you.
“Excuse me for a moment,” you murmur, slipping out of your seat.
Ko watches you dash up the stairs, slack-jawed.
You make a beeline for your borrowed room, throwing open the closet doors to find the coat you’d left hanging there on arrival. The coat you’d worn to and from Yoongi’s. You hurriedly dig into the pockets, fingers immediately making contact with something hard and jagged.
You pull it out.
The shiny silver key in your palm looks like it’s never been used, sharp edges gleaming in the waning sunlight streaming into this room.
You don’t have to guess what it’s for.
You just close your fingers around it and hold it tight.
*****************
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So a scenario (please please please feel free to ignore it if it's not your liking, no pressure on you, I really really appreciate your hardwork and I love your writing thank you so much for all of this amazing fanfics you keep bringing) where f! Mc urges Lucifer to take break from his relentless overworking but Luci refuses and says something harsh which he didn't mean, Mc get's extreamly upset and leaves the house to get fresh air but she got kidnapped which Luci didn't realise till 2-3 days because he put spells on his office door to keep away his brothers and MC's whinning but when he comes out he sees whole house on rampage Because mc was missing and they can't sense anything with pact Because it was fading and Everyone is extremely angry at Luci, Luci realises his mistake and finds his Mc almost half dead where before falling into coma Mc makes Luci realise how much they (his brothers & Mc) all need him to be physically with all of them and Mc ends up in Coma, end it with fluff (wake mc up) please I beg you 😖 I know you love angst but I don't think I can take more angst I cried whole night yesterday after reading your "A question of time", love you and please take care of yourself ~ 💜
House of Stone (Lucifer x GN!MC)
There you were, skipping into his office as you always did, the softest smile gracing your lips as you reached his desk, leaning over it to look at him, but he didn’t look at you. There was no time to play your games, there was no time for anything, not when Lord Diavolo had his desk constantly stacked with paperwork that needed to be completed. He didn’t mind doing it, not before you came along, but now there was the constant pressure of keeping you occupied and satisfied while also trying to complete the never ending work pile. His pride never allowed him to put you at the top of his list of priorities because as much as he cares about you, he needed his Lord's respect, and he owed it to him as well. “Lucifer, you should take a break. You’re working too much, and way too hard. We’re all worried about you.” Your voice broke through his thoughts and his head whipped up to look at you finally. His eyes narrowed, and he found it almost laughable that you’d try to have a say in how much or how little he worked. He scoffed at you, flicking his wrist to shoo you out of his office. “I don’t need your opinion, or your worry, Y/N. If you’d stay out of my office and let me concentrate, maybe I could actually get something done. You think you can do that?”
For once you didn’t put up an argument, you actually backed away from his desk and left his office quietly. He knew that what he had said was out of line, but as always, his pride kept him from going after you to apologize, well, it kept him from apologizing at all. You meant well, but he also had to finish his work, and it’s not like what he said wasn’t entirely true. If everyone would just leave him be for a little longer he could finish what he had to get done and maybe he could actually get some rest, which is what everyone was apparently worried about. The door was quickly put under a spell, no one would come in and no one would get out, and by no one, it meant him. He wouldn’t allow himself to leave until every single sheet of paper on his desk was read and signed off, no matter how time consuming or exhausting it was, he would get it done. Along with what was basically a locking spell, he also soundproofed the room, the only noises he could hear was his own breathing and the sound of pen against paper as he scribbled his name at the bottom of each paper. What he hadn’t heard was the sound of the front door slamming shut and all his brothers begging and pleading for you not to leave, and then the sound of their fists pounding against the door to his office as they tried to tell him that you had left.
How much time had passed since he had snapped at you, since that spell had been placed on the door? He’s not sure, and if it wasn’t for the coffee pot that he had set up in his office, he would have figured out sooner, but the fact that he was able to survive somehow on solely coffee and stale bread while he was working made it quite easy to lose track of the days and how many had passed by. The work on his desk was finally done though, and he could finally leave his office, and he was hoping that the home that he had left to the care of you and his brothers was still standing outside of his office. Long legs and arms stretched out in front of him as he finally pushed his chair away from the desk, gathering up all the papers and preparing them to be taken to Lord Diavolo. “Then I’ll see how Y/N is doing…” He told himself, because deep down, he knew that he had been too harsh. It wasn’t that he didn’t want you or his brothers to worry about him, it felt nice to have people actually care about him for once. His brothers usually cared about themselves, well, most of them did, and you, well… you always cared about him, although he didn’t know why.
As he took the spell off the door, that’s when he first heard it. The commotion of his brothers outside of his office, although they weren’t right outside the door, they were speaking loud enough for him to tell they weren’t all in their own separate rooms, which was strange. His first thought was that someone had unintentionally burned the kitchen down, or maybe they had made a hole in the wall while fake wrestling, and he was entirely prepared to brush it off until he got an adequate amount of sleep, but then he opened the door and saw all of his brothers rushing around the halls, their phones in their hands as they fervently typed out messages, others had their phones up to their ears, growling loudly when they clearly didn’t get an answer. “What is going on?” Every head in the room turned to look at him, all of their eyes were shooting daggers in his directions, and for once, he was the one who didn’t have a clue of what was happening or why everyone seemed so irritated.
“Y/N is gone!” “I don’t know what happened!” “-Just walked out the door, looked like they were crying!” “-Not answering their phone!” “I don’t feel it anymore…” “-Like the connection is fading.” All of his brothers were speaking over each other, but all of their words were directed at him. You had walked out, you had left the house, and he felt this strange sense, a pang of guilt mixed with worry. He was worried about you, as were all of his brothers as well. It looked like none of them had gotten a wink of sleep, not even Belphegor who looked like he was struggling to keep his eyes open just to glare at him. “Will you all be quiet!? Mammon… tell me what’s going on!” All of the tiredness he had felt before had quickly vanished as soon as he heard that you weren’t there, and now the only thing that he wanted to do was make sure you were okay, to get you back home safe. Mammon would know what was going on better than any of his brothers because other than himself, Mammon was the one who kept a close eye on you, he was the one who made sure you stayed out of trouble.
“After leavin’ yer office… Y/N just walked straight out the door. We tried callin’ for them, but they weren’t listenin’. We tried callin their phone too, and textin’, but they ain’t pickin’ up. Now… we can’t feel ‘em anymore… like the pact is fadin’ or something.” It was like everybody in the room froze, because that “or something” wasn’t good, the pact fading wasn’t good. Although he himself hadn’t made a pact with you, he knew that his brothers weren’t lying, because he didn’t need a pact with you to feel a connection, and now that he was out of his spellbound office, he could feel that something was fading, he just didn’t know for sure what it was until his brothers verified it for him.
How long had he actually been locked up in his office? How had he allowed something like this to happen? He knew this was his fault entirely. If he would have just gotten up, satisfied you just enough to make you feel better, pretend that he was getting some sleep… anything but scolding you for caring… this wouldn’t be happening. But then again, his pride won’t ever allow him to admit that he was in the wrong. This was somehow his brother's faults for not stopping you, for not going after you. Why hadn’t they tried to stop you, why didn’t they follow you? They knew well enough that it wasn’t safe for you outside of the house, that you shouldn’t be roaming around the streets of the Devildom by yourself, but they let you go. Maybe this was more of his brother's faults than he thought, but he didn’t have time to argue with them.
“We have to find them. Mammon, Asmo, and Levi, you take the upper side of town, Beel, Belphie and Satan, you take the lower side, I’ll stay in the middle and look around. If any of you find them, you call me immediately and tell me exactly where you are. Now go.” He’s hoping that you hadn’t gone far, that nothing terribly bad has happened to you, although their words of the connection with you fading has him beyond worried, and he’s almost terrified of what he or his brothers will find if they do find you. There’s only one reason why pacts would fade, and that’s a reason that he doesn’t want to dwell on too long. If he starts believing that you’re dead already, he’ll give up, his brothers will give up, and that’s something they can’t risk. As long as there’s some type of feeling… no matter how faint, it means that you’re still alive. You’re somewhere, and they’ll find you, and hopefully it won’t be too late.
The groups dispersed and Lucifer went out on his own, searching everywhere and anywhere for you. Places he never would have stepped foot in, he was right there. He was on edge, and every second that passed just set him further into a panic. “Where…?” Where could you possibly be? None of the brothers had texted him, so they clearly hadn’t found you either, and he was starting to feel hopeless, like he would never find you, and if he or they ever did, you surely wouldn’t be breathing. His brain was fogged with worry, and he couldn’t even begin to think of where you could have ended up, or what could have happened to you. At this point, he was walking through the streets in a daze, he wasn’t even watching where he was going, and that’s when he ended up in a back alley that was almost too dark to navigate. It led to a dead end though, and just as he was about to turn around and walk back out onto the street something caught his eye. A single shoe sticking out from behind a pile of rubbish, and he felt the bile rise in his throat as his blood began to boil. He knew without a doubt that it was you, he knew those shoes, and he knew they were yours, and he immediately ran over, pulling your body up off the ground. “Y/N…”
He could barely hold himself up on his own two feet anymore, just the sight of you like that had made him weak, and he was seeing red. If he hadn’t known any better, upon first look he would have thought that you were dead, but your heart was still beating, although feably. “Just… hold on a little longer… Okay?” Did you even hear him? Your entire body was limp, and even though he knew there was still some life in you, it was fading fast, and you already appeared lifeless, and you weren’t responding to him at all. He had hoped for the best, but no amount of preparing could have gotten him ready for this.
There was no time to rush to the castle, and until he knew just who exactly had done this to you, he didn’t trust anyone in the Devildom except Lord Diavolo, Barbatos, and his brothers. His arms wrapped around you tightly as he zapped you and himself to the castle, standing in the entryway, and he didn’t even know what to do, and he couldn’t find his voice to call out for the butler, so he was more than grateful when the demon walked around the corner and kind of froze when he saw him standing there with you.
He wasn’t the type that asked for help, but in this instance, there was nothing else he could do, and even though he couldn’t voice the word, he was pleading to Barbatos with his eyes to do something, anything to fix you, to make you better. “Right.” Was all the butler said as he rushed over to grab you from his arms, but he wouldn’t allow it. Wherever Barbatos planned on taking you, he would go to. All he needed was for the butler to lead the way, and he would follow. The last thing he wanted was to be away from you again.
Hours, days, weeks passed by, and he never left your bedside. You had been laid up in one of the guest bedrooms of the castle, it had been turned into a makeshift hospital room, the slow, steady beeping of the heart monitor had been the only sign to him and his brothers that you were still alive. Other than that, you were lifeless, a shell of the person that you used to be. “Lucifer, it’s alright if you go back home. Y/N will be fine here, and you’re just making this harder on yourself sitting there and staring at them.” Diavolo’s voice sounded from the doorway of the room, and for once, Lucifer disagreed with him. He deserved all the pain that came along with seeing you like this because it was his fault that you ended up like this in the first place.
“I’m staying here until they wake up. It’s the least I can do.” You were always there for him and he had shooed you away, he had pushed you away, and this is how you ended up because of that. He’ll sit by your bed for another week, for another month, he doesn’t care how long it takes, because when you do wake up he wants to be the one you see first. “Lucifer, I understand… but your brothers need you back at the house. They’re just as upset about this as you are.” As if he didn’t already know that. They weren’t just upset about what happened to you, they were upset with him, as they should be, because he was the reason behind it. That wasn’t the thing that was keeping him from going back though, it was you. You were keeping him from leaving, because he refuses to go back to the house when you’re not there, because as much as his brothers and you need him, he needs you and his brothers just as much.
“Lucifer…” He had fallen asleep, and it happened so scarcely that once his eyes shut, he found it difficult to open them again even if he did feel fully rested… but that voice… it wasn’t Diavolo’s, it wasn’t his brothers, it was weak… soft, almost a whisper. It was you. He sat up straight, his eyes shooting open to look at you, and a sigh of relief escaped him when he realized that it wasn’t just a dream, that he hadn’t heard your voice calling his name in his head. You were awake, and you were saying his name, and Father, it sounded so sweet. “Y/N… I’m…” How does he say he’s sorry? Would you even accept it if he did? Why would you? Why should you? He didn’t expect you to, but he still felt the need to say it. To push his pride aside for once and actually own up to his mistake, because this was the biggest mistake he had ever made.
“I know you’re sorry…” You had said it for him, before him, but it wasn’t enough. He needed you to hear it from his own voice, because this past month as he sat beside your bed wondering if you’d ever wake up again, he realized that he doesn’t just need you, and he doesn’t just care about you. “I’m sorry… I didn’t mean what I said… and I hope that you can forgive me.” Because he loves you, and he never wants to go through the fear of losing you again. He needs you more than you’ll ever need him, and although his pride would never allow him to say it out loud, it’s the truth, and he doesn’t know what he’d do without you.
#obey me#obey me shall we date#om! shall we date#obey me headcanons#obey me imagines#obey me x reader#obey me x mc#obey me! shall we date#obey me scenarios#obey me lucifer x reader#obey me Lucifer x mc#obey me Lucifer#lucifer avatar of pride
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Thought I might share my “doing homework with adhd” tips in case the might help even just one person (because that would make me feel happy).
Who am I to be giving you advice? Good point! I am still terrible at studying and I’m 26 and at University for the millionth time. But I have studied A LOT in my 22 years of schooling with varying degrees of success.
I see a lot of people, especially teenagers or first year university/college students, with ADHD asking for tips on how to study. But if you do a google search most of the websites and advice that comes up can be extremely ableist. So I hope I can help someone!
TIPS TO HELP YOU STUDY WHEN YOU HAVE AN ADHD GREMLIN BRAIN!:
1. Chewing gum!
- This might come across as a weird one, but it has actually really helped me. I use it as a form of stimming to help keep me focused and concentrating. Other forms of stimming can potentially end up being more of a distraction when you actually need to be reading or writing - but they can help if you just need to be listening. Try not to get a bubble gum or fun flavoured one though - as they can end up making your mouth feel dry, lose flavour quickly, and just give your brain way too many sensory things to become distracted with.
2. Buying colour coded stationary!
- New stationary can make me really excited to start studying, but that excitement never lasts long and the act of buying stationary can sometimes become it’s own hobby. That’s not what we are going for here. I really recommend, especially if you are a visual learner like me, to buy colour coded stationary. This means removable page markers, different coloured post it notes, highlighters, sometimes even pens. This way if your mind jumps from one topic to the other, it doesn’t matter. Go with the flow. Forcing your ADHD gremlin brain to focus can be extremely counter intuitive. So pick a colour for each topic, and stick to that system to find organisation among your own chaos!
3. Buy a really cheap, boring year diary with hardly any writing inside.
- Not sure if your school/university has their own diary but they can be perfect for what I am on about. Generally you can find them for really cheap, soft cover, no writing or designs within the dates. Just dates, days, weeks and lines where you can write your homework. This helped me a lot in High School. I wish I had kept doing it in University, but I am good with giving advice, and not so much with taking it. I used to decorate the outside of it however I wanted. Some years I would redecorate the same diary every semester. In the public holidays or holiday days I would colour those lines in with different highlighters to make it look like a rainbow. But every assignment due date, homework, draft, rewrite, form I had to bring back, library book due date, school activity days, ANYTHING to do with school I would write in there with reminds and check lists. Important due dates would be highlighted, general homework and daily to do lists t(o help me not leave my assignments to the last minute) would have a tick box beside them (because ticking tick boxes is free dopamine). Try to not put birthdays or fun things in it. This is a small way to stay on track so it helps you actually stay on track with the big things when you’re home.
4. Big whiteboards stuck on the wall where you can’t avoid it.
- This is not something I had in school, but I so wish I did. I have been using this recently to keep on top of house work (as maintaining your own house is tiring) and my small business or other things I really can’t avoid. If I physically write it down (not just in my phone) it psychologically does help you commit it to memory. Again, physically putting a line through a task you just completed is a hecking great rush of dopamine. But the biggest reason I love my white board, I can’t ignore it. It is stuck to the wall and is never out of sight, out of mind. I can’t put my phone or diary down and then refuse to look at it until I’m past the due date. Again, I’m not a perfect person, there are days where I don’t do anything I have written on the white board. But the great thing is, I don’t have to continuously feel like I failure, as I can wipe it all off the next morning or week and start fresh. I also put important things I have to remember that I’m doing during the week so I don’t forget them.
5. Icky Medication.
- I know not everyone wants to be on medication, and I understand. I am not forcing you to. No matter what your opinions are, you lovely gremlin who is still reading this post, regarding medication, you are valid and I respect you. My personal experience with medication has not been the best. I have been misdiagnosed for a severe chunk of my academic life which has seen me trying to focus and maintain school work under some even worse states then I am unmedicated! However, since receiving my diagnosis and finding the right ADHD medication for me, I have the ability to get so much work done without having to unnecessarily struggle. It’s unfortunately not magic, it will not turn me into a robot that makes me do work and turn out incredible, noble peace prize winning assignments (as much as I wish that were possible). I still have the ability to be a lump, doom scrolling through tumblr, forgetting to eat, and ignoring responsibilities. But it really helps me when I sit down and start that thing that isn’t fun. Yesterday it helped me hyperfocus on cleaning my office which was a terrifying room to be in. So it’s pretty close to magic in my opinion!
6. Accessing Disability Support at your place of learning.
- Not all of you taking the time to read this will have either a) an offical diagnosis or b) a good disability support available to you wherever you are completing your studies. And that is okay. This dot point just won’t be for you right now. But keep it in mind for a time when it might apply to you, as it’s something I never thought I would need, but will never take for granted ever again.
- If you have an offical diagnosis and Disability Support, make an appointment with the disability support adviser. DO IT NOW! Get your psychiatrist to write a diagnosis letter outlining that you have <enter superpower that makes you hilarious here> and that you are receiving <enter x,y,z treatment here> and that you would benefit from receiving <enter what you have always wished you had on the days you can’t make your ADHD gremlin brain do the thing here>. Now these benefits can be, but not limit to: automatic extensions on ALL assignments, extra time on exams, extra breaks to walk around while taking exams, special consideration when marking assignments, my university allows me to take exams in a separate room with only the other students in my subject who also have disability support (occasionally I have taken an exam alone with only a tutor present) so I don’t get distracted, permission to take fidget items into class or exam (I have the option to wear headphones, as long as I can display that they are not connected to anything). Maybe you can come up with some great ones for you with your disability advisor or your psychiatrist.
- The disability advisor will often go through your course outline with you at the start of each semester or year. This is annoying and a great time for disassociating, but can be useful in hindsight because you are made aware of everything that will come up during your class so you are not surprised. Because lets be honest, it is unlikely you are going to look at the course calendar too often.
- Side Note: I make an appointment every semester with my disability support officer for my area of study to make sure I have my special considerations for the year. Now I may go through the whole year without ever using my considerations. However, the fact that I know they are there takes an insane amount of pressure off of myself. If I’m having an insanely screwy loony tune mental health moment, I can email my coordinator my disability plan and say I need an extension due to personal reasons, and WHOOP, there it izzzzz.
7. Dedicated one thing or a few things that have nothing to do with food/alcohol/other substances to reward yourself with for doing the thing!
- This may not work for everyone. It doesn’t always work for me. I used to reward myself with food, but that only reinforced my stimming with overeating and my already bad relationship with food. And I feel as though that would be the same with any other substance that can be linked with addiction. (Addiction is a tough word, cause what aren’t I addicted to, I have ADHD, but hopefully you get what I mean!).
-Now, boring try and not choose this aside, lets think of somethings that work really well as rewards!
- My partner likes to come give me a kiss and a hug when ever they have written and reread a paragraph, you might buy a book when you get a really good mark, you might want to go make a cup of tea and watch an episode of your hyperfixation after studying for <enter a good period of time here>, you might allow yourself to partake in an activity you usually do while procrastinating (but at least this time you know you aren’t putting something off), talk to someone who you know will tell you they are proud of you as they understand the mental struggle you go through to concentrate (if you can’t think of anyone, it is 110% okay if that person are the amazing people on tumblr or the adhd tumblr chats. We will freaking pop a bottle of champagne for you cause we get it!).
- Try and make what ever you choose be something in a different room or away from your working space. Getting out can really calm you down.
8. Don’t be afraid to ask for assistance.
- This is true for anything, but I don’t mean just asking your teacher to give you extra help understanding the task and marking rubric. Many people online, tutors, librarians at your school, past or present students offer assistance rereading and making small edits (they won’t make it magical unfortunately) to your assignments. If you are like me and once you have written or completed the dreaded thing, you can not imagine or force your gremlin brain reread or edit the thing. So it can help to just delegate this to someone else, who hasn’t read it before, so they won’t disassociate or skim read it. They will often notice things you never would have even if you were neurotypical as that is just what happens when you have been working on something for so long.
9. Repetitive music.
- It generally helps if this has no lyrics. Lo-fi is amazing. Classical is alright too if it works for you, but both my partner and I agree that it can really assist you to keep up pace and focus when the beat is a high and repetitive (almost meditative) tempo.
10. Limit your screen space.
- This is a tip completely from my partner @dr-adhd who also has ADHD, is an avid PC gamer and is consistently in a battle with their gremlin brain to focus on completing their PhD. They have discovered that it really helps them to limit their screen space - simply put, work on one screen only. They have done more work more easily when they have their one screen on their laptop to focus on. Whereas their office has multiple screens so they could be playing runescape, watching YouTube, listening to lo-fi and doing work - which never worked (shocking right hahaha).
11. At the risk of sounding like a Mum... Put your phone and other electronics other than the assignment necessary one, away.
- I am a Mum, but to a fluffy puppy dog, so I hate to sound like my Mum when I was in high school, but she was right. Mobiles are the single easiest and biggest distraction in ADHD history. I often, even at coffee shops, have to turn my phone over so that I am not consistently looking at it every time the screen lights up to say the pizza place has sent me a coupon, or a carpet place that has been having a sale since I was born is... still having a sale, or a friend from school wants you to watch this TikTok. Even though you might not want to ignore your friends, because people pleasing, difficulting making/keeping friends and RSD are hecking real things, but they can all wait. Trust me, none of them are urgent. That TikTok will still be funny in an hour or two. And I’m probably completely right when I say that whomever just messaged you, never replies as quickly as you want them too. So I doubt they are going to think twice if you are MIA to finish your thing.
My partner or I might add to this later, but at the moment I already know that I probably wouldn’t read this wall of words if I was the one reading it, so if you are still with me, THANK YOU and I really hope I might have helped you. Sorry for the mound of words, but maybe you can reblog, screen shot, or save this and read a dot point at a time or refer to it when you need. Don’t be afraid to ask questions, I promise what ever it is, I’ve asked the same thing once in my life or something MUCH stupider.
#ADHD#Study tips#actually adhd#autistic#adhd#neurodivergent#adhd study tips#advice#adhdstudytips#studying with adhd#adhd advice#ask adhd#adhd mood#adhd life#adhd vibe#disability support#uni support#school advice
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